by H. D. Gordon
Running up the side of the building to my left—the one as of yet undamaged by the brute—I did a move straight out of American Ninja Warrior and used the wall to jump atop the dumpster beside it. Less than a heartbeat later the beast slammed into the dumpster like a linebacker, folding the metal in on itself like an accordion.
I bent my knees and sprung forward, my feet leaving the dumpster’s lid only a split second before the beast made impact. Tucking my head, I did a three-sixty in the air, a sort of airborne somersault right over the beast’s shoulders, landing on my feet in a crouch behind the creature.
“I think you better run,” Sam said. “I don’t see how you can stop this thing.”
“Thank you for the vote of confidence, Coach,” I said.
That was all the exchange there was time for, because the beast was already regaining its bearings, and as it turned to face me, anger about its missed attempt to smash me was practically pulsing behind its red-veined eyes.
For the smallest of moments, the sight of its aura distracted me. I’d never seen anything like it, and yet, there was something familiar about it that I just couldn’t put a finger on. What was this thing? Better yet, where had it come from?
These were questions that would have to be pondered in an alternate setting, because the beast was already on the approach again. Seeing that forcing my will upon it was not going to be effective, I reached into the jacket beneath my cape and removed my magical staff, whispering the incantation that made the weapon grow to its full size.
As the beast reached me, it swung out its enormous fist in a swipe that would likely have knocked my head right off my shoulders, but I ducked under this and rolled around to the other side of it again. It stood now in the mouth of the alley, and Sam let me know with a small curse that she did not approve of this move.
Gripping the staff in my hands, I swung out in what I was sure was a swift and effective strike, but the wood of my weapon made impact with the beast’s beefy shoulder as if slamming into a thick, sturdy tree trunk, the reverberation hurting my hands more than it had likely hurt it.
Now a curse came from own mouth.
The beast snatched the end of my staff and whipped its arm to the side, sending my weapon and me sailing through the air. I slammed into the side of a building that was still dropping chunks of construction at intervals, a grunt of pain escaping me in a whoosh of air.
As the beast loomed over me, I tried in a last ditch effort to strike out with a kick, only to have my ankle grabbed and my body whipped around the way a partygoer might whip a wet shirt around his head. This time, I had no idea what I crashed into. I knew only that it was hard, and that I was seeing bursts of stars.
Someone was screaming in my ringing ears, and it took me way too long to realize that it was Sam, and that she was not just screaming, she was crying.
The beast reared up over me, lifting both of its fists above its head, and all I could do was squeeze my eyes shut, because I was in too much pain to move.
CHAPTER 13
Shots rang out, so close and so loud that I thought for a terrified moment that it was the sound of all the bones in my body snapping, of my insides being smashed to mush.
When the beast let out an agonized roar of its own, my eyes flew open and I saw that it must have been shot in the back, because it whipped around in anger and charged away, leaving me in a bloodied heap.
Lifting my head from the concrete with difficulty, I saw that the SWAT team had arrived, and were firing their weapons at the beast in rapid succession. With blurred vision, I watched as the beast plowed right through their forces, kicking the black truck they’d arrived in out of the way with its enormous strength, sending the vehicle careening into another row of police cars and making a spectacular smashing sound.
Pulling myself up—I would wish later that I had shut my eyes just then—I watched in helpless horror as the beast picked up one of the police officers and snapped his body in two like a twig. Screams and shouts and gunfire filled the air, and the aura on the destroyed officer blinked out like a snuffed light.
Bile rushed up my throat and I leaned to the side, my body wracking with wretches. I could hear Sam’s breathing through the earpiece, but my friend had otherwise fallen silent. It was one of those circumstances where there was really nothing to say.
An officer ran into the alley, and I used every bit of strength I possessed to pull myself to my feet, using my staff like a cane for support. With a sigh of serious relief, I saw that it was an officer I knew. The name on his uniform read: CLEARY, and we had encountered each other a couple months ago, when he’d let me go after saving the Grant City District Attorney from being kidnapped, despite the fact that there had been a reward for my apprehension. If I wasn’t mistaken, I was pretty sure that reward was still up for grabs.
He took one look at me, in my mask and suit and broken condition, and let out a curse. “You better get out of here,” he said.
The sound of a motorcycle cut through the conversation, and relief flooded me as Thomas swung into the alley on his bike. With all that was taking place just around the corner, I didn’t wonder at the fact that Cleary was the only one who’d wandered over. The beast was the focus of the force.
Without removing his helmet, Thomas helped me onto the back of his bike and gunned the engine as if preparing to run over Officer Cleary should he try to stop our escape.
“He’s cool,” I told Thomas, wrapping my hands about his waist and resting my head against his strong back. I was having trouble holding myself upright. The way the beast had whipped my body around like a ragdoll was really taking its toll. If I were human, this abuse likely would have killed me.
The radio on Cleary’s shoulder crackled and a frantic voice said, “We’ve lost sight of the beast. All units, be on the lookout. I repeat, we’ve lost sight of the beast.”
“Go,” said Cleary, waving his hand at us.
Thomas revved the engine and carried us away. We escaped, but so had the beast.
***
“Holy cannoli,” I mumbled, gritting my teeth against the pain pulsing through my body. Thomas eased me down onto the floor of the warehouse, where Sam and Matt had set up a makeshift bed with blankets and jackets.
Sam fluttered over me like a mother hen. “I told you to run!” she said.
I nodded, closing my eyes and letting my head rest back against the ground. “Yeah, I heard ya, Sammy.”
Sam snorted, and I knew without having to look that she was throwing up her hands. “Well, you sure as crap didn’t listen.”
“You okay?” Matt asked.
I laughed without humor, and even that hurt. “I’ve been better,” I said.
“What the hell was that thing?” asked Thomas, who was also hovering.
Though I knew it was stupid, I was still displeased with him for not attending my lacrosse game earlier this evening. I shook my head, lifting my hands a bit in a Who knows? gesture. “Never seen anything like it,” I said.
“How is that possible?” asked Sam, pressing some painkillers into my hand and handing me a bottle of water. “Didn’t the Brokers teach you about all the supernatural creatures? I thought you guys kept files on that kind of stuff.”
“We do… or they do, and I did learn about all kinds of creatures, but again, I’ve never seen anything like what I saw tonight. It was almost… unnatural.”
“Almost?” said Matt, and he shuddered. He’d obviously been watching my live video feed along with Sam. “That poor officer… He broke him in half like a Kit Kat.”
“Jesus, Matt,” Thomas said.
I waved a hand. Though I didn’t appreciate the reminder, I knew that Matt rambled when he was upset and scared, that it was his way of dealing with things. My way included crawling into dark holes and wallowing in depression. We all had our ticks.
“You need a doctor,” Sam said.
I didn’t disagree, but Sam knew as well as I did that I couldn’t just go to a hospital. Al
l they’d have to do is take my temperature, or Gods forbid, my blood, and they would know I wasn’t human.
Strong arms went underneath me, and I groaned as Thomas lifted me into the air. I was too weak to struggle against this, but my eyes flew open. “What are you doing?” I said. “Put me down. It hurts.”
Thomas ignored this. “She’s right. You need a doctor.”
I shifted in his arms but he held fast. “Yeah, maybe, but if I go to the hospital I’m likely to end up in a secret lab somewhere. Not gonna happen. So put me down and let me rest.”
Thomas ignored this as well, carrying me over to Matt and meeting his eyes. “Drive us,” he said.
Matt had just gotten a car last month, having obtained his driver’s license. It was just an old faded beater, and many times the subway or the sidewalks were a faster route when considering parking, but like all groups of teenagers, whoever gets wheels and permission first suddenly becomes the caddy for the whole party.
Matt looked from Thomas to me, and back again. “Umm,” he said.
“For God sake,” Thomas said. “I know someone who can help. Are you going to drive us or do I have to take the keys from you?”
Matt swallowed while Sam stood anxiously nearby. “Point the way,” he said.
***
“I swear to Glob that if I get seized by the government because these quacks think I’m a genetic freak, I’m going to kick your butt, Thomas.”
Thomas gave the male equivalent of an eye roll, closing them and letting out a sigh. “This won’t take long,” he said, addressing Matt. “You can wait in the lot back here, and we’ll be back out in a moment.”
Matt nodded, his brown, curly hair swaying, but Sam shook her head. “Uh, I think we should come in, too.”
Another sigh. Thomas pinched the bridge of his nose. “The more of us that go in, the more attention we’ll draw. Stay here and keep Matt company.” When he saw that Sam was about to object, he added, “Please.”
I shifted, the pain in my body having not eased in the least. If my nerve endings had anything to say about it, it might actually be good that we’d come to the hospital, because they were practically crying out in agony.
But if nothing else, I was a stoic little thing when it came to dealing with physical torment. My mother used to tell me pain tolerance was a gift given to women, because physical strength had been given to the men, and there was bound to be some correlation between the two. This enduring ability had been a harsh balancing of the scales. It was why women gave birth and men writhed in pain when dealing with a mid-grade fever.
“He’s right,” I said. “Just wait out here, guys. I’ll be back. I trust Thomas.”
Somehow, this seemed like a really intimate thing to announce, but I was too busy listening to the pain receptors in my brain to care. So that was the last of the protests as Thomas lifted me into his arms again and carried me in through the rear entrance of the hospital, where likely only the doctors and staff made their entrances.
Automatic doors slid open in a smooth glide, cool air and the smell of antiseptic rushing out to greet us. There was a small lobby and a reception area, behind which an old woman with beehive hair and glasses sat reading a newspaper.
She stood from her seat upon seeing us. “Excuse me, this is—”
She was cut short when Rosemary, Thomas’s sister, exited an adjacent room and hurried over to us. “It’s okay, Muriel,” Rosemary told the old lady. “They’re with me.”
With suspicion on her brow, Muriel reclaimed her seat with the swiftness of a suspicious geriatric.
I don’t know if it was the screaming of my body, or if the beast had knocked a few screws loose in my mind, but I was having trouble keeping up with things.
“Bring her in here,” Rosemary told Thomas, and I was carried into one of the patient rooms, where Thomas placed me atop the crisp white sheets of the hospital bed.
A small groan escaped me as even this caused a jolt of fresh pain to shoot through my midsection. “You’re a doctor?” I asked, squinting up at Rosemary in the harsh light. She smiled and I thought she looked like an angel with her lovely face and clean white coat.
“So it would seem… and what happened to you, Aria?” she asked, eyeing my condition as she pulled gloves over her hands.
“I… uh… got hurt,” I answered like a true genius.
Rosemary gently moved my neck, prodding and examining me, flashing her little doctor flashlight into my eyes. “Mmm,” was all she said to this.
“You should see the other guy,” I joked, but neither of them laughed, so then I just shut up as Rosemary conducted her doctoring, feeling somehow like a foolish child.
“You’ve broken some ribs,” she told me. “And that’s just what I know from looking at you. From the size of that bump on your head, and the severity of these lacerations, that could be the least of your troubles. I’m going to have someone take you down to get X-rays.”
I went to get up and blow this popsicle stand but Thomas put his hand on my chest—not in an intimate way, but that didn’t mean I wasn’t acutely aware of it—and held me in place. “You can’t tell anyone we’re here, Rosemary,” he said.
Rosemary’s perfect brow quirked and she tilted her head. She was clearly not a woman who went unspoken, and I realized I respected that as a trait. “What the hell is going on here?” she asked.
Thomas and I were silent for a long moment as we exchanged looks.
He said, “I just want you to make sure she doesn’t have a concussion or internal bleeding or anything like that.”
Rosemary blinked as if she weren’t hearing him right. “You bring her in here, looking like some behemoth beat the crap out of her, and you’re worried about someone knowing she’s here? What the hell is the matter with you, Tommy? Tell me what’s going on, because the things I’m thinking in my head have got to be worse than the truth.”
I stared up at the hospital ceiling and assessed my body silently, deciding having a doctor on our side wasn’t the worst of ideas, especially since the beast would likely be back, and this was surely not the last time I’d end up bloodied and bruised. What had Raven said to me? Oh yes. The games have only just begun.
So we told Rosemary Reid what she wanted to know.
CHAPTER 14
“She absorbed that remarkably well,” I said as I finally settled into my own bed, my body already on the mend. Whatever drug Rosemary had given me was working wonders, and I felt more like I was floating on a cloud rather than resting on a mattress.
It had to be past two in the morning, and I was supposed to be at the flower shop by nine am. After all the flakiness a few months ago, I didn’t want to have to call out on Rose. It was a good thing I healed faster than a human. In fact, I’m not sure Thomas’s sister would have been so quick to accept the truth of my origins if she didn’t get to see the healing firsthand. She told me I was lucky I was whatever I was, that the injuries sustained would’ve killed a human.
“Rosemary has always had an open, brilliant mind,” Thomas said quietly, pulling the blanket up and tucking it under my neck as he sat on the bed beside me.
“I like the way you talk about her,” I said, my voice a little goofy with my high, my eyelids heavy. “I can see the love pulse through your aura when you do. It’s beautiful.”
Thomas stared down at me with his striking hazel eyes, silent and reflective. Then, he said, “You’re beautiful,” as if the words had just escaped him, sneaking past his lips of their own accord.
Even with the amount of dope in my system, there was no way this wouldn’t make me perk up and take notice. “Thank you,” I said, and my voice came out a whisper. He’d been so distant with me as of late, and it had been affecting me more than I cared to admit.
“I’m sorry I missed your game,” he said. “I bet you did great.”
Now it was becoming impossible to keep my eyes from closing. I was sinking into my bed like a melting marshmallow. I let out a little laugh t
hat I wasn’t sure I even heard. “No… I did terrible, actually, so I’m glad you didn’t come. Made a bit of a fool out of myself.”
My words were trailing off, something dark and silent tugging at me.
“Nonsense,” Thomas said, and I thought I felt his lips press a kiss against my forehead, though I couldn’t be sure.
I also couldn’t be sure that I didn’t imagine it, but right before I slipped into the blissful oblivion of dreamland, I thought I heard him say, “Rest now, beautiful girl, so you can save the world another day.”
***
“Dear God! What happened to you?” Rose exclaimed when I walked—or I guess more hobbled—through the flower shop door that following Saturday morning.
I made my way around the counter and hung my jacket and bag up on my designated hook. “There was a troll in the dungeon,” I joked, but either Rose had never read Harry Potter, or I was the only one finding myself funny. I chose to believe the former.
“Did you encounter the Blue Beast?” she asked. “Did that thing do this to you?”
If my head had whipped around any faster it might have popped off. “How do you know about the blue beast?”
Rose snorted and slapped the morning paper down on the counter before me. There, on the front page, the headline read: BLUE BEAST ATTACKS GRANT CITY!
“It’s all over the news,” Rose said. “People are freaking out.”
I took a closer look at the paper and read the name of the reporter who’d written the piece, forcing myself not to roll my eyes when I saw the name Gail Golden.
“Well, with articles like this it’s no wonder they’re freaking out. I swear, reporters nowadays have no sense of propriety.”
“Aria, what happened to you?” Rose repeated.
“I had my first lacrosse game last night, and I got hit right in the head with a stick,” I lied. I looked a hundred times better than I had one moon ago, and this sounded believable to me.
Rose nodded at my legs. “And the limp?”
“I sprained my ankle going to score.”
Sighing, Rose gave up. “Okay. Are you alright to work, or do you want the day off?”