Banshee Screams

by Clay Griffith

  The sight disturbed Quantrill, not because he'd never seen shape-shifting before, indeed many sykers had that ability. Rather, he was unnerved by the vision of Dr. Lupinz. Quantrill had spent the last, terrible months of his life at the Lupinz Asylum, sent there by his own former commanders who feared and loathed him. The face of Dr. Lupinz was one of bland evil and the last face Quantrill remembered from life.

  The undead general turned away. "Why do you insist on that masquerade?"

  "It is helpful to move in human society as Dr. Lupinz. This facility is useful and a storehouse of resources for me. This appearance keeps the inmates calm. For some reason, they loved the dear Doctor." A large tabby cat leapt onto the desk and slid across Avernus's liver-spotted hand. The animal began to purr loudly.

  Avernus opened a deep drawer in his desk and removed a small, wooden case. He opened the case and removed a flask of inky liquid and a syringe. The newly formed Dr. Lupinz displayed the items, which glinted in the lamp light. "And I enjoy the work here. Now I believe I'll see our patient."

  Avernus was amused by the eruption of Ross's raucous voice at the first sound of the key in the lock. He paused to listen.

  "I've been thinking a long time, my darling. Of the sweet words you never would say."

  He pushed the door open. Two inmates surged in, grabbed Ross's arms, and pinned him down. The Ranger didn't resist. His eyes were closed.

  Avernus strolled in and closed the door behind him. He pulled a syringe-full of black liquid from the pocket of his pristine lab coat. Without fanfare, he jabbed the needle into Ross's arm through the shirt sleeve and pushed down the plunger. He removed the syringe and dropped it back into his pocket.

  Ross didn't seem to notice. "Now alas, must my fond hopes all vanish? For they say you are going away."

  Ross was waltzing, still watching his feet carefully. He was getting better. His partner moved with a supple grace that made his awkward steps all the more noticeable to the man watching.

  The man watching?

  Someone else was there. For the first time since the dance began, someone stood in the shadows observing the dance floor. Don't look at him. Don't take your eyes off your feet. One misstep and something terrible will happen.

  "Then come sit here a while 'ere you leave me. Do not hasten to bid me adieu."

  The violin lost its crispness. The notes drew out longer and lazier.

  Ross's dry throat closed up. It was getting more difficult to sing. He felt feverish. He was having trouble catching his breath.

  "But remember...the Red River Valley."

  The dark figure in the corner shifted, waiting for the song to finish. Ross stepped on his own instep. He stumbled slightly. He gripped his partner's hand tighter. His other hand slipped off her waist. He caught himself with a nervous laugh and kept in step. He bobbed his head, trying to recapture the rhythm. Everything was fine. No need to panic.

  "And the girl that has...loved you so true."

  It was so hot. He needed a breath of air. If he could only step outside for a second, he'd be fine.

  "From this valley...they say...you are going"

  A breath of air. That was all he needed. Then he could return to the dance floor. He blinked the sweat from his eyes. His boots scuffed the floor. The clomping of his footsteps was drowning out the music. He was losing the timing.

  "When you go...may your...darling go too?"

  He had to get some air or he couldn't go on. If he could only find a door. He looked up.

  He caught the eye of Dr. Lupinz standing patiently in the corner. The mouth of the tall man in black turned up in a smile that seemed to take forever to form.

  Ross's heart pounded. He stumbled. His hand fell from his partner's grip. He saw the curve of her hip as he tumbled to the floor. He hit hard on his shoulder. He felt the warm wood beneath his hands and face.

  He twisted his neck and looked up. Darkly framed against the bright lights above he saw a face haloed in red hair.

  It was Debbi.

  A Ranger.

  From Temptation.

  He reached up for her, but his world split open like the smile of Dr. Lupinz.

  Avernus backed away from Ross.

  Breaking a man was easy enough if you have the power. And sometimes power came from knowing how to use the victim against himself. The deeper you took a fantasy, the better the chance that reality would be forced into it. And a little dose of reality was all that was needed to disrupt someone trying to hide in a fantasy.

  Now that Ross was broken, Quantrill could take over to reshape him into whatever form was most useful. The General would never have been able to master someone like Ross. Quantrill was too direct and confrontational. But it was that same singularity of purpose that made him such a good servant.

  Avernus turned to the quiet man huddled in the far corner and nodded. "Good day, Dr. Lupinz." He turned and left the cell with the inmates.

  The quiet man moved his eyes from the door to Ross who lay with his head pressed against the floor. The Ranger's unseeing eyes were wide. His mouth moved and muddled words seeped out.

  Would you leave her behind unprotected? When she loves no other but you?

  Chapter 32

  Debbi closed the door of her room and proceeded down the hall. She had the graveyard shift, which was fine since she couldn't sleep any more anyway. The constant anxiety of deciding what was best for Temptation wore heavy on her. She had begun to second-guess herself and that made her even angrier.

  She needed Ross. He had been gone nearly two weeks with no word. She had sent Stew out to Newcomb's farm in a Stallion to look for him, but he found nothing. They were stretched so thin, with Cass gone and Fitz down and Ngoma recovering, Ross would scream bloody murder if she spared even one Ranger to track him further, if it could even be done. The fact that Stew found no sign of him at Newcomb's farm didn't mean that Ross hadn't been murdered by Reapers and buried out in the wilderness.

  She distracted herself from thoughts of the terrible things that might have happened by thinking that most likely he went to scrounge the necessary equipment to repair the relay station. That's what she would have done.

  Or she could occupy her mind by being mad at him for leaving her in charge.

  She softly cursed Dave Ross. He could've taken her with him instead of Olivares. Was there no other Ranger besides her who could have taken over? She wasn't blind to his grooming her for command. It just seemed to be coming too fast. She wasn't ready.

  Damn him.

  The house was brightly lit. Lanterns and oil lamps were placed on every available space. Debbi began to sweat from the heat. She tied down her holster as Miss Etta appeared.

  "Are you hungry?" the landlady asked, carrying a shotgun as if it was a kitchen utensil.

  "Not really."

  Miss Etta put an arm around Debbi's waist and walked her into the sitting room. She also fingered the Ranger-issue flak jacket with interest. The landlady was wearing close to ten layers of clothing as well as heavy gloves and boots and several scarves tied around her neck.

  "Aren't you hot in all those clothes?" Debbi asked.

  "Yes I am. But I still have all my bones, thank you very much. You should see me when I have to go out; I wear my heaviest cooking pot on my head."

  "Have you seen any more batrats in the house?"

  "No. I boarded up all the holes I could find, no matter how small. And I don't go outside except in daylight and even then I take ol' Bessy with me." Etta patted the shotgun affectionately. She lifted her head. "How are you holding up, dear?"

  "Me?" Debbi snorted with amusement and regarded Etta. "This is my job. The question is, how are you holding up? This isn't quite normal even for Banshee."

  Etta laughed. "Child, I've seen a great deal in my day, both on Earth and on Banshee. Nothing surprises me anymore, not even bone-sucking bats."

  "You're not afraid?"

  "This is a frontier. I don't expect things to be sweetness and light out her
e."

  Debbi loved the old woman's grit. She was a tough old biddy.

  "I wish I had your confidence, Miss Etta."

  "You do, dear. You just don't realize it." She brushed imaginary dust off Debbi's sleeves. "Be careful out there tonight, Debbi. There's something in the wind."

  "How so?"

  Etta lifted her thin shoulders helplessly. "Something just feels different."

  "Wind is wind."

  Etta grew suddenly serious. "Let me tell you about the winds. They carry with them the heart and soul of Banshee. I've seen their breath sweep down from the mountains, carrying energy unlike any Earth winds. They race across the desert sands feeding off the fiery heat, then barrel straight into town and whip through the streets, rattling folks and buildings to their cores. Their message is clear. Danger is coming."

  A chill raced up and down Debbi's spine as the old woman's voice lowered. She had never heard Etta talk this way.

  "Just watch yourself." Miss Etta's face fell back into its tender expression.

  "I will. Don't worry. I have no intention of getting my bones sucked out." She kissed Etta on her wrinkled cheek and then rose, allowing the mantel of command to fall back on her shoulders. "I have to go now."

  Etta curled her arms around her shotgun. "You listen to what the winds tell you, dear. They know."

  Debbi nodded.

  Etta raised an eyebrow. "Now pardon me while I go hunt a certain cat who tore my drapes all to shreds. Bone-sucking bats or not, there's no call to exhibit poor manners in the face of adversity."

  Fighting a laugh and wishing McDuff a secure hiding spot, Debbi lifted a torch from the bucket of sand just inside the door and lit it. It flared to life. She cautiously eased herself outside, stomping out onto the porch, making noise to drive the more hesitant batrats away. She lifted the torch to illuminate the underside of the roof of the porch. Five of the creatures squealed and took to wing, fluttering out into the night.

  It was just nearing midnight and the town was quiet. No one walked the torch-lit streets but Debbi. Despite the late hour, every house was illuminated brightly, casting muted light outside. Debbi was grateful for the burning torch held firmly in her grasp. The high-pitched cries of the batrats echoed close to her ear and then faded away into the night. She couldn't help but imagine that it was the fluttering of their wings that caused the breeze ruffling her hair.

  Desperately trying not to think of what skittered just beyond the glow of her torch, she walked on into the night. The street was strewn with vehicles and gear that people had abandoned when the batrats first came. Few had the courage to go out and retrieve it afterward. Larger things, like a speeder bike and an open-air truck, had to be moved to the side to make way for Ranger vehicles. Other smaller things, like brooms and various tools, were left where they lay. Few people wanted to die with a broom in their hand.

  She walked past a wagon loaded with someone's furniture and belongings. The gory stains where a family's remains puddled were still visible on the ground. The poor souls were caught in the midst of fleeing Temptation's plagues, no doubt. Debbi turned away sadly, not really wanting to know their story.

  The hot wind was stifling and afforded no relief as it rushed noisily through the side street. Debbi's skin was damp and grimy despite the fact that she had washed up this afternoon. She was sweating under her stifling helmet. The wind carried flecks of sand that struck her bare face and neck. It felt like a thousand tiny needles. She rubbed her neck vigorously to ease the prickly sensation.

  A metal barrel tipped over suddenly and Debbi jumped, swinging her weapon to bear on it. All she saw through the smoky haze of her torch was a rat scurrying away along the edge of the wall. She let out a sigh and tried to ease her rattling nerves.

  She was edgy. Etta was right. There was something different tonight. There was an eerie silence. The wind slowed to a moaning breath.

  Ten minutes passed and she realized she hadn't seen or heard a batrat. Perhaps they had left Temptation and moved on to an easier and more plentiful food source. It didn't seem likely, not the way Temptation's luck was running lately. Debbi's skin prickled even more at that thought. What else could happen?

  Her breath quickened and her gut tightened as the stiffening wind changed direction. It carried something odd; a smell that brought back every ounce of fear that Debbi had tried to forget these past months. The stench of death filled her nostrils and made her gag. It curdled the air around her. Her hand rose instinctively to cover her nose and mouth.

  She cast quick panicked looks in all directions, but she saw nothing. Her rational mind reminded her that there were numerous dead bodies lying fresh or undiscovered in the streets and houses of Temptation. Naturally, that smell hung heavy in the air. It meant nothing.

  Walk on, she told herself firmly. Don't give in to the fear.

  Her gun remained locked in her hand, her finger tightening against the trigger guard. She reached up to engage the comlink in her helmet to inform Miller to send a clean-up crew out this way before the sun rose.

  But she never made it.

  A dark shape towered over her, hunched and hairy, a grin of teeth gleaming just outside the torch's glow. A long, loose-limbed arm struck at her.

  The helmet was ripped from her head and sent crashing through the window of the dark building beside her. She crashed into the metal wall just under it. The night air around her suddenly teemed with bright stars not of Heaven's making.

  Her addled mind yelled at her to move. Rise up and take a shot. Damn it, move!

  Her fingers reflexively pulled the trigger as a deeper darkness filled her vision. The weapon was on automatic and a rush of explosive bullets poured out; she thumbed the black needle attachment and fired those too.

  Debbi pushed herself to her feet using the wall to brace her back. She sensed rather than saw something swing at her from the shadows to her left so she dove right, rolling through soft garbage and coming to her feet. Sparks rained down to inflame the strewn papers as a massive claw ripped through the fabricated metal where she had just stood. An angry snarl of failure rent the air behind her as she ran back the way she had come.

  She thought of the miners ripped in half and ran faster. The Thing had finally come for her. She had almost forgotten the fear. It had waited to test her when she least expected it. Fear was insidious that way.

  Her head pounded, but she ignored the pain. It just added to the headache she had carried since the worhul hunt. She forced her weary brain to think. This street was residential; she had to lead this monster away. Headquarters was her best bet, somewhere with help. She wasn't going to kill this thing on her own. She needed heavy ordnance to take it down. She knew that for a fact.

  The scrape of claws tearing into wood was the first thing she heard when the beast leaped from a roof and landed a few feet in front of her. She skidded in the dirt and then used her momentum to veer toward the abandoned speeder she had passed earlier.

  Praying that they had left the security key inside, she pulled it upright. She fumbled for it in the darkness and shouted with relief when she found it. The engine flared to life and she saw the monster throw back its head and shriek as it realized its prey was trying to escape. It leaped forward as Debbi spun the bike around and sailed in the other direction, kicking up a spray of dirt and dust. Sharp nails raked her flak jacket. She felt burning pain across her back.

  She gunned the engine and surged forward, hearing the creature scrambling on her heels. She knew she could outpace it now that she had the speeder; she had done it once before.

  The thing suddenly appeared in front of her as it rebounded off the side of a building. It rose up on its hinged legs. Its wide mouth opened in a roar and Debbi felt its spittle hit her face.

  With a cry, she jerked the speeder aside and slipped into an alley, dodging crates and debris at a fanatical pace. She no longer wondered why the creature was here. The reasons were too numerous: Temptation's newest plague; it was drawn by the c
arnage; it was destiny. She didn't care any longer. One thing was clear; one of them wouldn't get away from this fight alive.

  She turned left and sped beside a stone wall. With a flash of inspiration, she realized where she was. Behind the wall lay the ruins of St. Calixtus. It was big and it was empty. Debbi felt just the smallest shard of hope grow larger within her. If she could reach it, it might offer her a chance for survival.

  A large crate fell abruptly from the sky and shattered in front of her, obviously lobbed there by the creature she was leaving behind. She had to swerve and she slammed up against the hard stone wall. The speeder and her left knee took the brunt. She shouted in pain and jerked the vehicle back again.

  The gates of the churchyard loomed before her. She pulled out her Dragoon and shot at the chain. The gate sprang open with a crash. She roared into the churchyard.

  Debbi glanced behind her and saw the thing stalk through the gate. Its massive head turned toward her and a howl shattered the air. She desperately tried to think of what she was going to do now that she was here. Her sidearm had already proven useless against this thing. She had to buy some time.

  Only one idea came to mind, and she put it into play before she changed her mind. She hit the brakes and spun the vehicle around to face the beast. They stared at each other from across the churchyard, the wild eye of desperation and the cold eye of death. The creature stretched out its long legs and came on, long-clawed hands digging into the ground to gain thrust. Debbi gritted her teeth and leaned hard on the throttle. The speeder bike took off straight at the monster.

  The ground swept swiftly past. The monster was suddenly in front of her. She popped up the speeder's nose so that it was at a forty-five degree angle, shutting down the hover jets so it wouldn't slow its momentum. The bike hit a mound of dirt left over from the worhul and suddenly it was airborne.

  Debbi threw herself off. She landed hard on ground, at the last second remembering her training, and rolled. The bike careened into the creature and knocked it to the ground.