The Gathering

by Michael Timmins

  Kat grimaced. Show time.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Kestrel woke her with some urgency.

  “Shae. Something has happened. It’s time to go.”

  The tone of Kestrel’s voice woke her instantly and she sat up and got out of the bed in seconds.

  “What is it?”

  Kestrel frowned. “Trouble. There are police outside.” She paused and gave a faint smile. “Nothing we can’t handle.”

  Shae was a little uncomfortable with what that statement implied. Yes, she had killed people, and apart from that family, those she had killed had all deserved it. Killing police was an entirely different matter altogether.

  Her hesitation must have been noticed as Kestrel moved up to her and rested her hands on her shoulders. “It’s alright my dear. As I said, I will not make you do anything you don’t want to do.” Her smile was kind and her eyes caring. “You leave them to the rest of us. We were planning on leaving this morning anyway. Just the two of us.”

  Shae cocked her head. “Where are we going?”

  “Remember? I said I had an important task for you, probably the most important of all?”

  Shae nodded. She remembered.

  “We are leaving to do that task. We just need to make it out of here in one piece.”

  Shae smiled. “I’m not worried. There is little they can do to me.”

  Kestrel nodded sadly. “True. But I am not like you. If I get shot. I will die.”

  That was the last thing Shae wanted to happen. “Stick with me. I will protect you.”

  Kestrel smiled at her but did not respond.

  Motioning her out of the room, they joined Blain, Sarah, Gordon and Taylor.

  She scanned around. “Where is Samuel and Joseph?”

  “That’s what I wanted to know,” Blain demanded, his face flush with anger. This had apparently been discussed before she had arrived and not to Blain’s satisfaction.

  “They are taking care of something for me,” was all Kestrel would say.

  She turned to face all of them. “This . . . intervention by the police, steps up our timetable a bit. Blain, you know what you and Taylor need to do. Sarah will go with you, but you must deliver her to me where I told you and when. Gordon, you will accompany them.”

  Both men groaned at the prospect.

  She rounded on them. “You will learn to work together. Enough of this,” she stuttered over the words, trying to find the right ones, “dick measuring.” Her uncomfortable use of the slang word was almost comical to Shae.

  “No point in measurin’.” Blain made an obscene gesture implying his length.

  Kestrel sneered at him but turned to Gordon. She stepped close and put her hand on his chest. “I know this is unpalatable for you.” Her voice, a bare whisper, was clear enough to Shae, and she could imagine the rest of them with their hearing. “You must go along with Blain,” she continued. “Keep him in line and on point, but he is in charge.”

  Gordon made to say something, but Kestrel put a finger to his lips. “You know why this must be the way.” A bit of steel entered her voice. “Don’t make me explain it again.”

  Gordon searched her face for a moment before nodding.

  Blain snickered. “That’s right. I’m in charge.”

  Gordon ignored him.

  Kestrel stepped away from Gordon and faced them all, once again.

  “Right now, however, we need to make it out of the hotel. Most importantly, me and Shae must be allowed to escape relatively unnoticed.”

  Blain appeared about to ask a question, but the cold, hard stare Kestrel gave him, shut him up.

  “When we get downstairs, Blain, Gordon, Taylor and of course, Sarah, I will need you to create as much mayhem as possible. Remember, if you must attack someone, make sure it is lethal. Eventually, they will learn to use those you turn to track you with the bond. It is best if we don’t give them that opportunity just yet.”

  Shae got the impression this last bit seemed a little rehearsed and it seemed like everyone had heard it all before. But why she would repeat her instructions, Shae didn’t understand. Reluctantly, the men nodded.

  Sarah ignored them all.

  Shae felt conflicted about Sarah. Of all the people here, except Kestrel and maybe Taylor, Sarah was the only one to be kind to her. It was clear Sarah was only here because of the bond to Blain and clearly didn’t want to be here. Shae couldn’t imagine the horror of being at Blain’s beck and call, and if there was something Shae could have done to free Sarah, she would have. There wasn’t. At least, not anything Shae could figure out anyway.

  As they made their way through the hotel, it was clear the police had done their best to remove as many people from the hotel as they could. Occasionally, sounds could be heard coming from inside one of the suites, but for the most part, it was eerily silent. When the elevator reached the lobby, it was devoid of people. Blue, red, and bright white flittered across the bank of windows at the front of the lobby, informing them the police were entrenched outside.

  She turned to Kestrel, “Why don’t we just sneak out the back?”

  Blain answered. “Because Rat, the police will have the back door covered as well. If we are to have any hope of covering yours and the Lady’s escape, we need to hit them here and hit them hard.”

  Kestrel eyed Blain as if seeing him truly for the first time. She nodded, and Shae took it as acknowledgement Blain was right. Shae frowned. She would have rather Blain been wrong, so Kestrel could have shut him up again. She decided to take a stab at him instead.

  “Thanks . . . pig.”

  He turned to her; his upper lip curled upward in a leering smile. Shae growled under her breath; angry her barb hadn’t cut the way she had hoped.

  Kestrel ignored the exchange and instead, straightened her back, swept her long raven color tresses back, the pieces of crystal she had woven into them clacking together. Once ready, she strode forward as regal as a queen. It was time for the world to meet Kestrel.

  The world wasn’t ready.

  Flanked by Gordon and Blain and followed closely by Taylor, Sarah and herself, Kestrel reached the outside door and strode through it. It was a few hours before dawn and night still held its grip on the city. Not that you could tell from the multitude of lights illuminating the hotel.

  Police cars were placed strategically behind the barriers and where police had once stood idly about waiting for something to happen, they were now lined up behind the cars, handguns pulled and pointed at their group.

  Crowds of people lined the barricades watching what happened. Cellphones were raised above heads, snapping photos and taking videos of something they had no idea they were about to witness. All they knew was the police were here and something was going to happen. Never mind they might be caught in the crossfire. Social media needed their posts.

  Kestrel had pulled up and now stood facing the police like they were her subjects. Shae watched her expectantly, as she had no idea what to expect. Kestrel opened her mouth to speak, but then clapped it shut, teeth snapping together audibly, and Shae saw something had caught Kestrel’s attention, something which had her jaw clenched hard and put fire in her eyes.

  Shae searched the scene for what had caused Kestrel’s anger. After a moment, she thought she figured out what. A woman, no, a teenager, maybe four or five years older than she; hair like bleached wheat, long and flowing framed a soft oval face. She was pretty. She was young. And yet, she moved with a poise she had only seen from Kestrel.

  This was Sylvanis, Shae realized. The sworn enemy of Kestrel.

  There were others with her. A large, burly man, broad of chest and with thick arms. He had brown hair and bushy eyebrows. His face was blocky, and he had an oft broken nose. Beside him was a teenaged boy, tall and lanky, though he was building some bulk. It seemed to not fit him yet, as if he had yet to grow accustomed to it.

  On Sylvanis’ other side was a young woman. She was slight of build, with just enough curves. Sh
e had light tawny colored hair cropped short. Feminine lethality was the best way to describe her. Whereas the older man looked like brute force, she looked like calculated harm.

  Next to her, but a step or two back, was a middle-aged man. He seemed somewhat familiar to her, as if she had seen him recently, though she couldn’t figure out where. It seemed unlikely as she hadn’t been anywhere in a few days.

  The group moved forward, and the police moved the barricades, so they could step through. It wasn’t difficult to figure out who the people next to Sylvanis must be. They were Sylvanis’ Weres.

  “Oh, shit.” She knew what must happen next. Even though she had told Kestrel she wouldn’t fight in her war, it seemed like she wasn’t going to have a choice.

  From some unseen cue, Blain, Taylor and Gordon shifted as one. One second three men stood there, the next, three monsters.

  Terror ripped through the crowd.

  Screams and shouts filled the night air as the throng of people got more than they had bargained for. Some fled, but more, gripped with panic, stayed to see what would happen next. Of course, most of them had seen the footage of what had happened in these streets not long ago. Some of them most likely hadn’t believed what they had seen. They did now.

  Sarah hadn’t changed, and neither had Shae. She wasn’t supposed to be a part of this. Kestrel and she would flee. That was the plan. Though, now Sylvanis was here, who knew what would happen? She watched as Sylvanis turned to one of the men behind her, the one Shae somehow recognized, and said something.

  The man reached into his coat, pulled out a gun and aimed it at Kestrel, and fired.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Simon stood next to his father and though he had power beyond anything these cops could handle, he still was afraid. A shiver had started at his upper arms and had migrated into his chest and to his lower jaw. It was all he could do to keep his teeth from clacking together and letting everyone realize how frightened of this scenario he was.

  It had been one thing to arrive on the scene at Sylvanis’ house and wade into the fight. That had happened with no planning and little thought to what would happen. He had plenty of time to think about what was about to happen here.

  The Werecroc had shifted and Simon was all too familiar with that visage. He and Jason had fought that monster and while they had been able to deal with it, at least enough for it to retreat from them, he didn’t look forward to facing off with it again.

  The Wereboars were a new element, but he had seen the video as well. He had seen how merciless the True had been to Kat, Sarah and Clint. What he had subsequently done to those police officers had been . . . disturbing, to say the least. He hoped his father capable of dealing with him, because he didn’t think any of the rest of them were.

  The woman, Kestrel, had noticed them and she did not look happy. The scene sat frozen. There was two Wereboars and a Werecroc on the steps of the hotel. Kestrel, in all her beautiful fury, seemed uncertain as to what to do next. The woman, Sarah and the girl, who seemed a few years younger than he, had yet to change. Both appeared unhappy about being there.

  Now, there were three Weres that had made it clear they were in this fight. Three of them for the three of us. Of course, they had Sylvanis, but she would be negated by Kestrel, he imagined. There were two dozen Chicago police officers arrayed behind them who, hopefully, would only shoot at the enemy and not at just any Were.

  They stood there, as if waiting for some signal as to what should happen next. Sylvanis turned slightly and spoke back to Ben.

  “Ben, could you please take out your gun, and shoot that woman?” Her voice was devoid of feeling, as if she had merely asked him to hang up his coat after stepping in out of the rain.

  The shiver returned, but this time it wasn’t out of fear. Simon was reminded, though Sylvanis looked young – she wasn’t. She had already lived a life. Had commanded armies, sent soldiers to die, had sent soldiers to kill.

  Ben Charles reached into his coat and pulled out his gun, quickly pointed it at Kestrel, and fired.

  It seemed to be the signal everyone had been waiting for.

  The moment Ben’s gun went off, the world went from being frozen to flooring the gas after dousing the engine with nitrous oxide.

  As the bullet left the gun, the girl who had been standing next to Kestrel flew into motion. Throwing herself in front of Kestrel, her body shifted as she flew. Brownish fur covered her body, nose and mouth extruded forward to make her face pointy, rat-like. A pink, ringed tail flowed instantly from the girl’s backside.

  The bullet entered her left shoulder and blood spurted from the wound. The impact pitched her slightly, but she righted herself instantly. She now stood equal in height to Kestrel and blocked her completely. Which was good news for Kestrel, as the rest of the cops opened fire as well.

  Still, Simon and the rest of them didn’t shift or move.

  As the Weres were riddled with bullets, they all staggered back as bullet after bullet entered their bodies. Kestrel, as vulnerable as she was, wisely kept herself behind the rat girl. Sarah was bent, down on one knee. Her arm held out before her bowed head. Bullets had torn the arm apart. Chunks of flesh were hanging loose, held on by a strip of skin here, a band of muscle there.

  Blood rained down from the limb, but she had managed to protect her head, at least somewhat. Still, Simon could see pale white patches where bullets had careened off her skull, exposing the bone. In other places there were dark patches where the bullet had shattered the skull plate and entered the brain.

  The others didn’t fare any better as the sheer volume of ammunition being used, perforated their bodies. Holes sprouted everywhere over the creatures, puncturing abdomens, cheekbones, legs, and shattering kneecaps. If they had been anyone else, they would have died long ago. But Simon could already see signs of healing. The Boar seemed adapt at manipulating his healing, as bullet holes were closing almost as fast as they opened.

  Sylvanis, mumbled something in some language Simon had never heard before. As she spoke, the ground beneath his feet began writhing.

  Roots!

  A webbing of roots spread out in a layer around the ground in which they stood. Twisted, gnarled things, like grotesque, misshapen snakes, spread out from Sylvanis. Simon had no idea what she was doing. Moments later, it became clear.

  “Talamh bris a-mach!” A shout from Kestrel.

  The ground bolted upwards all around them. People were launched skyward with chunks of pavement and concrete, a twisted geyser of flesh, rocks and debris. Vehicles were thrown into the air as well. Over three thousand-pound missiles lifted from the ground as if they weighed nothing. As Simon watched, people, vehicles and other items which had been unfortunate enough to have been in the vicinity of the spell – fell. Then sickening thuds of bodies collided with concrete, most of whom had been knocked unconscious from either the force of the upheaval, blunt force trauma from pieces of the road, or from the pain of having their bodies shredded from flying debris.

  They were followed closely by a rain of vehicles and shattered pieces of concrete, crushing many of them. Bile rose in Simon’s stomach as bodies were summarily demolished by falling metal. A police car landed trunk down and it hung motionless vertically for what seemed like an eternity before canting and landing on its roof. It rocked for a moment before settling.

  Cracks spiderwebbed underneath them, and Simon braced himself for fear he would also be thrown upward, as the ground underneath their group attempted the same upheaval. The network of roots, which Simon had not understood before, revealed their purpose as they held to the concrete and pavement preventing it from shooting into the night sky. Sylvanis had thwarted Kestrel’s spell. Simon glanced at her in time to see a sly smile play across her lips. She knew Kestrel all too well, it would seem.

  Unfortunately, the roots had spread too slowly. Cops had been thrown into the air along with police vehicles. Simon glanced back to where Kestrel stood with her Weres. The momentary respit
e from the barrage of bullets had given them time to recover. Wounds closed in seconds. Dozens of bullets clinked to the ground as they were pushed from reconstructed muscle and skin. As quickly as the flesh had been destroyed, it healed.

  The Boars and the Croc were on the move. But not at them.

  The crowd who still lingered around the barricades had flinched back from the earlier eruption and were only now giving thanks it had missed them. Their words of thanks quickly turned to screams of terror as the monsters bore down on them. The two Boars went right, and the Croc went left.

  “This is it guys,” Kat stated. “After this, everyone will know who we are. There is no going back.”

  His father rolled his shoulders and the move was accentuated by him shifting to his bear form. “People are about to die, Kat.”

  Kat gave Hank a sidelong glance and smiled. “Just wanted to make sure everyone was on the same page.” She shifted. Simon followed suit.

  “Hank?” Kat started to stalk forward.

  “Yeah?” He turned his head to regard her.

  She met his eyes for a moment before turning back towards the awaiting fight. “Fuck that Boar up for me, please.”

  Hank growled his accent, shifting. “I got the big one. Sim, can you handle the smaller one?” Hank studied his son questioningly.

  Anticipating how things were going to go down, Simon already moved to intercept the slightly smaller of the Boars, allowing his actions to answer his father’s question.

  “I’ll take the Croc,” Kat said confidently. “I hope,” Simon heard her mutter less self-assuredly as she moved off to deal with the enormous lizard.

  The corner of Blain’s maw curled up in a semblance of a smile as he barreled towards the crowd of onlookers. This was what he enjoyed. Spreading terror and fear. He caught Taylor out of the corner of his eye charging a different part of the crowd. Reluctant as Taylor might be, he still did what needed to be done. He would do what needed to be done, because he feared what Blain would do to him if he didn’t. As close to indestructible as they may be, they still could feel pain.