by H. D. Gordon
“I’m en route,” I confirmed.
“So are several police units. They’re trying to clear the bridge but the traffic is locked. Everyone’s coming into the city for the weekend.” I heard her swallow even through the earpiece. “Those people are trapped. There are hundreds of them.”
“I got this, Sam,” I said, the air ripping in and out of my chest.
“You’re damn right you do… but be careful. Hit it with an arrow and get as many people to safety as possible. If the epinephrine is going to work, it’ll happen within a couple minutes… but a creature that big can do a lot of damage in a couple minutes.
“Yep,” I gritted out. I remembered well the way it had handled me, had smashed apart bricks as if they were nothing more than loose sand.
Another roar tore through the night sky, much louder this time thanks to my closing proximity. More screams followed. Above me, helicopters sliced at the clouds, shining lights on the mayhem taking place on the bridge. These choppers were both police and news crews, and I tried not to let the fact that whatever happened here tonight would likely be nationally televised infiltrate my focus. This was the reason I wore a hood and mask.
Let them film it. Let them see. Maybe they would think twice before they labeled me a menace.
As I drew rapidly closer to the bridge, all the intricacies of its construction came into focus. The Grant City Bridge had been built fifty years ago to offer speedier access to the bayside city from those further inland. Resembling the Golden Gate Bridge of San Francisco, it was a suspension style structure with thick cables anchored by high beams. It ran across the Grant City Bay for a distance of just over two miles. In a single day, as many as four thousand cars made their way over its surface, the tollbooths at either end ever waiting to accept pay.
Now I could see that the cars were at a complete standstill, bumper to bumper… And above them, swinging from the cables like a monkey in the trees was the Blue Beast in all its terrible glory.
I allowed myself one glance into the murky, cold water of the bay, remembering when the Beast had taken me under, how I’d honestly thought I was going to drown, and a shiver raced up my spine.
In the next moment, I was making my way onto the bridge. It was time for the Masked Maiden to put a stop to the Blue Beast, once and for all.
***
Unless you’ve ever been in the midst of a large crowd of people in chaos, it’s impossible to get a real sense of the energy that buzzes through the air, the shift in atmosphere that can make the tiny hairs on the back of your neck stand at attention.
Such was the case as I crossed the Grant City Bridge, fighting against the sea of terrified humans trying to flee in the opposite direction. Women holding the hands of children with tears streaking down their cheeks rushed by me. Men in work boots with wide shoulders and three day’s worth of unkempt beards did the same. Ladies in heels that hindered their speed hobbled past, casting neck-breaking, stolen glances behind them, hoping that the thing they were running from was not on their tails. Gentlemen in business suits and gym shorts, flip-flops and sunglasses, uniforms and t-shirts and ties—all whipping by, leaping over car hoods, hurdling traffic cones and stumbling past those who had tripped and fallen.
Over here was a horde of nuns in their black and whites, spilling out of an old school bus that had been painted sky-blue and off-white, reading Praise the Lord in large letters on the side. Many of them crossed themselves and hiked up their robes while others clutched at their rosaries.
Over there was a tiny yellow dog with a rhinestone encrusted collar that would not stop yapping, its owner apparently having left it to fend for itself.
And in the eyes of all these people—dog included—terror caused by the creature currently smashing cars like soda cans shone bright and universal. Their auras lit up the night sky before me like fireworks as I charged through them.
I came to an older man shoving at the back of a new Ford Explorer with all his might, trying to move it and unable, the face of his terrified granddaughter staring back at him from an adjacent vehicle while she pounded at the glass. Cars had stopped on either side of the Camry she was trapped in, the Explorer blocking the door on one side and a semi-truck blocking the other one, not leaving enough room to open the doors. The trunk of the Camry had been smashed in by a car that had slammed into the rear of it, also allowing for no escape.
The man gave up trying to move the Explorer and instead tried to punch in the glass of the Camry’s windshield, his head whipping back and forth from the Beast behind him to his trapped granddaughter still stuck in the sandwiched Camry. People raced by without a glance in his direction, their minds tunneled in on escape and self-preservation, as was natural in such a situation.
I ran over to the rear of the Explorer and braced the sole of my boot against its bumper, shoving it forward with my powerful leg and freeing up the doors of the Camry. The man cried out a thank you and went to retrieve his granddaughter, but his voice was already fading in my ears behind me.
My eyes were cast skyward as the Blue Beast swung from one suspension cable to another, causing the entire bridge to shudder and sway under its weight. From where I was standing, it was as though the ground were trembling beneath me, the bridge itself fearing for its safety.
When the Blue Beast came crashing down to land before me, there was a moment when time seemed to stand still as I got to take in the creature up close and under the bright glare of the bridge lights shining down. Black hair stuck out of its head and ran down its back in that strange, never-ending-Mohawk manner. Its limbs were as thick as tree trunks, veins like vines crawling up the surfaces. Its skin was that unnatural indigo, darker around its knuckles and neck.
I saw that blue fur covered its bottom half, like a half man-half bear—a detail I had missed during our previous encounters. As it stood over me, I felt like a flower standing in the shadow of a mighty mountain, the only sunlight that could reach me at the Beast’s mercy.
Its mouth fell open, its jaws going wide enough to swallow a human head whole, and with an enormous intake of air that nearly sucked me forward, the Beast let out a roar that then sent me stumbling back.
I rolled out of the way just in time to avoid being scooped up into its large hands, my attention super focused on the task at hand. My evasion enraged the animal, but I was already on the move, leading it away from the fleeing people, hoping that it would follow.
Of course, it did. I couldn’t be certain, but when its red-streaked eyes had met my own, I could’ve sworn I saw recognition there. Could it be that the Blue Beast was not just a mindless creature, some large and hairy robot controlled by whatever those scientists had done to it? After all, it could have killed me back in the tunnels, but it hadn’t.
I didn’t know the answer to this, whether or not there was a Halfling child trapped within that huge, scary body, but I did know that I couldn’t allow it to hurt any more people. I had to take it down.
Scaling one of the ladders that led up a thick beam, I moved with all the speed my supernatural ability would allow. Once I got to a point I thought was as good as it would get, I swung the bow around off my shoulders, retrieved an arrow, and fired off a shot in one smooth motion.
The Beast was hot on my trail, saw me fire the weapon, and juked to the side a hair’s width before the arrow could hit home. I let out a silent curse as I saw the arrow sail past it and over the edge of the bridge, lost to the waters below. That left me with two more arrows. Two more shots at taking this thing down.
I told myself that I’d faced worse odds, and didn’t bother considering whether that was true.
***
My body flew through the air, the wind rushing out of me in a grunt of agony. I tried to twist, to tuck my head between my shoulders so that I wouldn’t land so painfully, but it was no use. I crashed into the metal railing hard enough to rattle the teeth in my mouth. When I rebounded to the concrete, my vision went black before blinking to white, and I tasted b
lood.
The bridge shook beneath me, a pound-pound-pound that seemed to vibrate in my head as a result of the Beast’s approaching footsteps. I tried to clear my vision, climbing to my feet and ignoring the frantic chatter of Sam in my ear.
I rolled to the side, narrowly escaping being smashed into the pavement by the enormous foot of the Beast. Taking to my feet took more effort than it should have, my knees weak and my muscles screaming. This would make the third time in a little less than two weeks that I’d had the crap kicked out of me, and I could tell that my body would be aching tomorrow in places I hadn’t known could ache.
That was, if I made it to tomorrow.
Apparently seeing that catching me was not as easy as it seemed, the Beast turned on its heels and leapt across to the other side of the bridge, sailing through the air like a blue and hairy Michael Jordan, easily spanning forty feet in a single bound.
People there screamed and tried to keep on in their frantic escape, but the Beast snatched up an elderly lady, turned its red-streaked eyes to me for a tick, and then tossed the lady over the side of the bridge as though she was nothing more than a child’s plaything.
“This is chaos,” I heard Sam mumble, and told myself to thank her later for that valuable insight.
I rushed over to the edge where the Beast had tossed the lady… and let out a sigh of relief when I saw her cradled in the arms of a soldier wearing black and gray camo and a black mask that concealed his face. I recognized Thomas’s aura the way I recognized my own reflection in the mirror. He was suspended from a cable that was connected to a helicopter, and he set the lady down safely on the catwalk of the bridge and disconnected himself from the line.
“About time,” I told him.
His team began to flood in from both ends of the bridge, which were still jammed up with fleeing people. The local GCPD had finally arrived, and were blocking off the scene.
“You move a bit faster than us,” Thomas said.
I tapped the crossbow and arrows on my shoulder. “I need to get a shot. You think you and your boys can distract it?”
Thomas gave a single nod. “Try and be quick, little Halfling,” he told me, and then he flashed some hand signals and his men began to form a perimeter around the Beast.
That turned out to be a mistake. The Beast was only getting more agitated. It batted at the choppers in the air, roared into the night sky, and swiped out at the approaching team. Two of Thomas’s men got scooped up and flipped over the edge and into the dark waters below.
I tried not to let this mayhem distract me, and instead climbed up one of the beams again, looking for my vantage point. I wasn’t sure what the Beast’s death toll was, but it needed to end here. The creature had hurt enough people, and whether or not there was an innocent child trapped inside its big blue body, it had to be stopped.
Taking a deep breath, I held to the beam with my strong legs, swung the crossbow around to the front of me, loaded up an arrow, and fired off a shot.
To my dismay, the Beast snatched up Thomas and leapt over the side of the bridge.
But the arrow was sticking out of its hindquarters.
CHAPTER 40
I followed after the Beast without a moment’s hesitation, my already hammering heart leaping up into my throat and threatening to choke me.
It’s funny how much you care about someone gets slammed to the forefront of your mind when you see them in danger, how your true feelings can overwhelm and catch you off guard.
Such was the case as I watched the Beast disappear over the side of the bridge. As I raced over and leaned out to get a look at the waters below, I was sure the Beast was going to take Thomas under as it had done to me.
But the waters below remained undisturbed, and I stood in confused shock before my genius friend spoke in my ear. Sam was watching the whole scene through the camera on my suit.
“Underneath,” she said. “It must be underneath.”
I was already swinging my legs over the railing, lowering myself to the underbelly of the bridge. Sure enough, the Beast was there, and Thomas was clutched in its large hands.
“How long until it works?” I asked Sam, my voice coming out strange, almost as if it were not my own.
“I’m not sure,” she answered, the apology evident in her tone.
The underside of the Grant City Bridge was a maze of support beams, construction access points, and thick bolts and cables. The Beast waited among these as if this was its home and I was a special guest invited over for dinner.
As I looked closer, I could see that its skin was starting to change, rippling blue to white to black and back again. In its aura I could see a certain fear that evoked sympathy despite the circumstances.
“It’s working,” Sam said. “Aria, buy some time.”
If not for the blood pounding in my ears, I might have laughed. “Sure thing, Coach,” I gritted out.
Though I’m not afraid of heights—Fae kind are born with wings and make homes in the tallest of trees, so genetically, comfort with elevation is in my nature—but one thing I’m not particularly keen on is large bodies of water, so I told myself not to look down as I balanced on the beam beneath the bridge, the black water below just waiting to break my fall.
I considered firing off my last epinephrine arrow, but instead left the crossbow in its place on my back. I took a step toward where the Beast was perched with Thomas gripped in its hand like a damsel in distress, and the Beast let out a roar that shook the structure like thunder.
I held my hands out before me, putting every bit of Halfling influence I possessed into my voice. “Easy there, buddy,” I said. “Just take it easy.”
Its skin continued to ripple in those unnatural colors and its head whipped back and forth, ropes of saliva hanging from its jaws, as if it were in some sort of agony. Again, I felt bad for the creature… and a certain rage toward those responsible for creating it.
“Get out of here,” Thomas gritted out, as if that were even a possibility.
I kept my hands out in front of me, still not looking down, but careful where I placed my feet as I took a slow step forward. “Easy,” I repeated, halting in my tracks as the Beast flung Thomas away, his large body striking a beam with a terrible thud that would definitely be felt in the morning.
To his credit, Thomas didn’t fall, but instead hugged the beam and maintained his balance, but I could see from his aura that this had been a feat.
The arrow must have angered the Beast, because it slammed its huge body into one of the crucial points that supported the bridge and the entire structure gave a shudder that sent a shiver racing up my spine.
When it did it again, and again, and bits of dust began to rain down on my head, Sam spoke the obvious.
“It’s trying to bring down the whole bridge!” she practically yelled in my ear. “Aria, there are still at least a couple hundred people on top. You’ve got to stop it.”
“Yeah, doing my best,” I muttered.
“Help!” said a familiar voice, crying out in pure terror. “Please, help!”
My mind was racing so fast I couldn’t pinpoint how I knew the voice, so I turned on my heel, and my heart dropped.
There, tied to the beams like witches about to be burned at the stake, was Raven and Andrea.
Raven was on the far right, and Andrea was on the opposite side. In between them hung a little sign that twisted in the night wind. The sign read: THE HALFLING OR THE HUMAN, YOU DECIDE.
I’d hardly even processed the words when the beam beneath my feet shook and broke free of its bearings, my body lurching toward the waters below.
***
I’m pretty sure that if anyone had been watching, I would’ve looked almost comical flailing about and trying to maintain my balance. My stomach shot up into my throat and my arms pin-wheeled. I groped out for something to steady me and somehow managed to maintain my feet.
“Help!” Andrea screamed again, and this was followed by a similar cry from Rav
en.
It was crazy, because I didn’t even like either of these chicks, but just like that, the task of saving them seemed of monumental importance. If this bridge went down and they were still attached to it, there would be nothing I could do to save them from drowning in the bay, and the bright, terrified flux of their auras told me they both knew this.
The Beast slammed its changing body into another important pillar, and the bridge gave a groan that sounded almost painful.
“The bridge is going to come down, Aria,” Sam said, and I could tell from the hitch in her voice that she was crying.
In that moment, so many things passed through my mind, almost like a montage of pictures and instants, memories and emotions. I saw the terror in the eyes of Andrea, the acceptance in those of Raven. I looked over at where Thomas was still gripping the beam he was on, trying so hard to gain his feet and be useful, and I thought of all the time we’d spent together in the past half-year, of our rooftop chats and meals, of the rare smiles I could sometimes get out of him with my silly antics.
I thought of Sam, and how much faith she’d always had in me from the moment we’d met. And Matt, with his enthusiasm for the cause. I thought of my days working in the flower shop, of the prospect of graduating high school and making choices for myself regarding the direction of my life. I thought about the mundane times, when I’d sat in class, hung out with my friends, went on dates with Caleb.
It wasn’t like my life flashed before my eyes or anything, it was just a sort of whirl of all the things that had happened to me recently, of all the small moments that added up to something bigger.
When the bridge shook again, more screams and cries filling my ears, I knew what I had to do. I couldn’t let the structure come down. Too much would be lost, and enough had been lost already.
I watched the Beast with a sort of detachment, as though I were viewing a movie rather than facing it all in real life. When it moved to a spot where another support beam was, gathering itself to slam into it again, its body shifting and strange skin rippling, I saw my opening, and took it.