"Try me.” He glanced over his shoulder, eyed a soldier standing nearby. “Private—take a look inside that cave."
Rachel winced. “You really don't want to do that."
"I'll make that decision,” the officer replied. The soldier saluted smartly and trotted to obey.
Amanda, who'd been standing several feet away, held her pistol in two fingers and slowly laid it on the ground at her feet. With her other hand she carefully reached into her jacket and flipped it open. “I'm a fed. Agent Amanda Keening, Homeland Defense, under the authority of the Paranormal Affairs Commission.""
"I don't give a shit,” the man snapped. “I'm Colonel Robert McKenzie, Oregon National Guard. I'm operating under the direct orders of Governor Feldon. I'm here to find out what the hell is going on in this town. Near as we can tell Redburn's a ghost town."
The private returned at a dead run. “Sir! The cave is full of dead civilians."
"Thank you, private.” Col. McKenzie gave them a hard stare. “Well...
Another one of the soldiers stepped forward, a radio unit strapped around his head. “Sir! Bravo Patrol has found three civilians—teenagers, two girls and a boy—and a dog, in a car about a mile away from the site."
"Take them into custody until we can figure out who they are,” the Colonel ordered. “Now ... where were we? Oh, yes. Care to explain yourselves?"
"I don't have to explain myself to you,” Amanda growled at him. “You have no authority over us."
His answering smile bordered on disdainful. “In case you hadn't noticed, I'm the one with all the guns."
"Might makes right? Interesting point of view for a United States military officer,” Amanda observed dryly.
"We stood here and watched you all mow down innocent civilians, Agent Keening. You're not in any position to get snooty with me."
She had to admit he had a point. And any possible explanation she could give him wouldn't mean squat. “I need to call my boss."
"Good for you,” he replied. “I need to call mine, too."
* * * *
Cory shot a disbelieving look at Chase. “We can't leave them like this."
"They'll live,” Chase answered brusquely. “Keening will get a hold of Athena Cross and they'll get this cleared up in no time."
"Several hundred dead civilians with their slugs in them? Yeah, it'll be a walk in the park.” Cory shook his head. “I can't leave now."
"Oh, yes you can.” Chase reached out and thrust his splayed fingers at Cory's face. Cory tried to duck but a wall of blackness flew up and hit him between the eyes.
* * * *
They stood in silence for a few moments as a team went into the caverns at Col. McKenzie command. “That might not be such a good idea,” Rachel murmured, repeating her earlier words. The officer focused a gimlet eye at her and summoned the radio man with a wave of his hand. “Get me the Governor's office."
Well, that cuts it, Amanda thought. If he makes that call, we're screwed all ways. She waited for the perfect opportunity then casually reached out and snagged a passing thread as if waving off a bug. Nevermind that it was too cold for bugs. A quick glance around showed that no one paid it any attention. She let it loop itself around her fingers while she focused her gaze on the radio guy and the brick size transceiver unit clipped to his belt.
She hurled the thread at the device like a javelin, rewarded by a sudden shower of sparks as the radio burst its casing and fell to pieces.
It wasn't quiet. McKenzie whirled. “What the hell?"
"I don't know, sir. It just ... shattered.” The radio operator shifted his glance from his C.O. to the fragments littering the ground.
McKenzie's eyes snapped to Amanda, as if he'd spotted something he just couldn't figure out. She met his gaze squarely, lifting her brows questioningly as if to ask "Can I help you?"
He gave a snort of disgust and turned back toward the cave mouth.
* * * *
The sound of gunfire cascaded from the cave, stirring the assembled soldiers into restlessness. McKenzie swore, low under his breath and took a couple steps forward. The squad came bolting out of the black, firing their M-16s back into the hole.
Something huge hit the canyon wall some twenty five yards to their left with enough force to shake the whole earth beneath their feet. A few of the soldiers fell to their knees, but quickly scrambled back upright.
It struck again, sending a shower of stone and dust sweeping outward. Another hit and a solid shape emerged from the wall, shedding more stone and earth. A huge saurian head mounted on the end of a long, sinuous neck craned over as massive shoulders broke through the rock face and into the moonlight. Next came a pair of wings, then a monstrous set of haunches and a long, snaking tail.
It spread its wings to shake off the dust, peering at them with eyes the size of manhole covers that seemed to spin like a kaleidoscope. A dusty shape picked its way through the rubble it had left behind, cradling something another human shape in its arms.
"Who's in charge here?” the dragon—what else could it be?—asked the group at large. The voice was masculine and sounded vaguely familiar, discounting the fact that it came out of a throat the size of a sewer pipe.
Eyes nearly as big around as the dragon's, McKenzie took a hesitant step forward. “I'm Colonel McKenzie."
Despite the fact she couldn't stand the bastard she had to give him a lot of credit for standing up to something as large as a greyhound bus.
The dragon cocked its head and regarded McKenzie curiously. “So what's your story, McKenzie?"
"I'm arresting them for the murder of all of those found in those caves."
"No you're not. They're not guilty of murder, Colonel McKenzie. It was self defense."
"So you say."
Oooh. That pissed it off.
The dragon leaned down, turning one eye on the officer and staring him suspiciously. It gave a sniff and hissed—a sound like the venting of a steam engine. “You're hiding something, McKenzie. What is it?"
The officer went ashen. “You can't threaten me."
The dragon grinned, a gesture that might've been friendly on a human face. On a dragon, it wasn't. It looked terrifying. Each shining tooth was as long as Amanda's arm. “I'm not threatening you. But I'm going to tell you what happened in there and you're going to write it out in your report as I relate it to you."
"Out of the question."
The dragon's head whipped forward, teeth scissoring together with a sickening crunch as they separated the upper half of the Colonel's body from the lower half. It chewed a couple of times, then swallowed, blood pouring down its massive jaw. “The one thing we dragons abhor is a stupid human. Who's in charge now?"
A second officer—this one a woman, hair a golden halo around her head—wearing Captain's bars, stepped forward hastily. “That would be me, sir dragon. Captain Suzanne Adair, at your service."
The dragon sighed. “I hope you're not going to argue with me,” it said. “Or, in lieu of that, I sure hope you'll taste better than he did."
"I have no interest in arguing with you, sir.” She shot a glance over at the twitching pair of legs lying on the ground a few feet away and swallowed hard.
"So ... this is what you're going to write in your report.” It settled back on its haunches. “Somehow a cult leader came into possession of an experimental hypnotic gas and began exposing Redburn's citizens to it in small groups. She then had them dig her a fortress out here in the boonies. In a rescue attempt led by Agent Keening and Detective Flynn here, they were set upon by hundreds of what could be called human automatons and were forced to use deadly force to defend themselves and the people they managed to rescue.
"If you need a sample of the gas in question, I can get it to you by the end of the day,” Scorpius added.
* * * *
Rachel shot him a puzzled look, to which he shrugged in response. “I can, actually. The stuff really exists,” he whispered.
::Which begs the qu
estion—how does the dragon know about it?:: She fidgeted a little, watching the dragon out of the corner of her eye. She'd placed the voice. Despite the huge, inhuman throat, it was Bigby's tones she heard. The way of speaking with nearly identical to the Chief's. She wasn't sure what that meant. She wasn't sure she wanted to.
She watched uncomfortably as the huge beast sank down on its haunches and sat there, picking its teeth with M-16 it reached down and plucked handily from a soldier's grasp. “I hate Velcro. Gets stuck between my teeth.
"So, Captain? That story work for you?"
She nodded numbly, looking a little sick. Probably thinking about why it's picking its teeth in the first place.
She found the notion a bit unsettling herself, now that she thought about it. Snapped him up like a hawk on a mouse. Fucking creepy. She shivered. On the other hand ... at least we're not in custody.
The dragon seemed lost in thought for a long moment as it finished gouging out that bit of Velcro from between its chompers. Finally finishing up, it gently returned the weapon to the soldier whom it had come. He took it gingerly, wiping off the dragon drool with a rag.
It worked its jaw a little, and then turned a whirling eye on Rachel. And winked. Then he craned his head back around to gaze at Captain Adair. “The detective there is wondering why you gave in so easy. None of us take you as a pushover."
Adair looked taken aback for a second, then nodded curtly. “Simple enough. First, I don't want to end up like the Colonel there. But all that aside, I happen to believe—unlike a lot of people—that you folks—” she shot a measuring glance at Amanda when she said that “—at the PAC are our only chance of figuring out the weird shit that's been going on in the world lately."
Amanda offered up a quick nod of her own and took a few steps closer. She dug into her jacket pocket and came out with a small token. She pressed it into Captain Adair's hand. The woman took it and lifted it up to peer at it, a confused expression curving across her face. “What's this?"
"That's a Shea Industries credit chit. On it you'll find a number inscribed. Give that number to every single soldier out here and they're entitled to one free service from Shea Industries or the PAC. Doesn't matter what it is. A job, a free lawyer, protection against the mob—you name it. Anyone who calls that number and identifies him or her self is entitled to whatever service he or she needs. One time only.
"This only holds true if they don't wag their tongues. If they go to the press and tell a different version of events than the official line, they get nothing. Their names will be recorded and we'll know if they blow it.
"You explain to your troops, Captain. Make it clear exactly how this is going to work. Some news babe might offer them a million bucks to tell their side of things. But if they go for it, they end up on the wrong list. They don't want to be on the wrong list."
She said this in low tones that didn't carry farther than a few feet. Except, of course, to the dragon and vampires, who, on a good day, could hear an ant taking a whiz at a hundred feet. The soldiers heard nothing, as she intended. It would be up to Adair to explain it all.
It wasn't as though the PAC or Shea Industries made a habit of threatening people—or harming them if they didn't go along with things—but sometimes one had to use whatever leverage one could get. The carrot and the stick, even if the stick was mostly bluff. But only mostly. The only problem we'd have is if one of them has a sudden attack of conscience and doesn't quite buy the story the dragon gave up.
::I can help with that,:: Scorpius's mental voice intruded into her thoughts. ::I can project a certain amount of certainty into their minds—make it easier for them to believe the story.::
::Do it then,:: she answered back. ::If you're sure you can.::
::Pretty sure. It's similar to what Veronica could do. On a far less ... dangerous ... scale.::
"That was clear enough,” Adair said, after a moment. “You've got a deal."
"Good. Those teenagers—bring them here. They're ours. And have your men set up camp and secure the perimeter until I give further orders."
Adair nodded again. “Yes, ma'am."
* * * *
Late the next morning Rachel walked out onto her front porch and wasn't particularly surprised to see Bigby sitting there, a cup of coffee steaming in his hand, Amanda and Ben leaning against the porch rail with cups of their own.
Bigby glanced up at her, read the expression on her face, and tried out a small smile. “Good morning, Flynn."
"What's so good about it?” she growled, almost out of reflex. She felt like hell.
"The bitch is dead, the National Guard has the place under wraps, and most of us are still alive,” Bigby replied. His huge eyes rested on her for a long moment. “You're bothered that I ate that Colonel, aren't you?"
"Yeah, he was an asshole, but...” How is it you're actually a dragon, Bigby? How could you keep that secret, and how long have you been keeping it?
"We dragons learned a long time ago that we neither think nor talk as fast as humans do. You will win an argument with us every time. We're smarter than you, but it takes us longer to process things sometimes. Once someone has been eaten, they don't argue much."
His flippant words belied his serious tone. He meant every word of it, as odd as it sounded. “It doesn't make me a cannibal, Rachel. You're only a cannibal if you eat your own kind. I'm just a fucking big carnivore."
Okay. I'll buy that. “But what were you doing here in the first place? Shit, Bigby, you're a dragon! It's one thing to believe in vampires and werewolves and magic, I guess ... but dragons? Christ on a stick. How is that even possible?"
"A long time ago an immortal named Loki created us to fight a war he expected to happen any time. It didn't."
"It's going to happen soon,” Amanda put in.
Bigby waved his hand dismissively, slopping coffee on his shoe. “Too late for us dragons to be of any use. If there are any more than a handful of us left, I'd be surprised. Wish I could find a female, though. Being in human form so long was a bit ... difficult. I almost forgot who—and what—I was.
"A few thousand years ago Loki stumbled upon something he didn't trust himself with—didn't trust himself, or any of the other immortals. But not something he could leave lying around anywhere. As it turned out, we dragons are immune to its influence. Don't ask me why—I doubt even Loki knows.
"So he gave it to me to guard. Them, actually. They're a pair.” He shook his head disgustedly. “I failed. After three thousand years, I lost the damn things. Gavin Chase snuck right in and stole them away. That fucking easily.
"That's where Cory is, by the way. Chase figured out how to use them well enough to take them into the ethereal plane and walk right by you while you were dealing with Veronica's meat puppets. I don't know what he wants with Cory."
He put his head between his legs and groaned. “Sorry, Rachel. I couldn't stop him from taking your boy. The transformation from human to dragon form takes a while. I realized he'd burst through the seal into the chamber where I had the damned things as I was changing. At that point it was too late. I sent Tooms, but he wasn't fast enough."
"Where'd he take Cory?"
"My guess is northward,” Amanda interjected. “Whatever he's into is centered there. He was teaching at the Academy until his wife and kid disappeared. What do you want to bet it's all connected?"
"Probably.” Bigby nodded.
"Well, what are we waiting for?” Ben pushed himself off the rail and stared down at him. “Let's go after them."
"Uh-uh,” Bigby said. “Not yet. Amanda's going to be heading home here pretty soon. She can keep her ears and eyes open and keep us informed. For the next few years, Ben, you're going to be under Scorpius's tutelage. He thinks you need discipline. He's right. You aren't leaving our sight until we think you can keep your head on straight—which means not losing control completely when you shift ... without getting high."
"Shit. Not you, too."
"Yeah. Me,
too. It's a crutch, kid. And the last thing you need is one of those."
"Scorpius said he was sticking around?” Rachel asked.
"Yeah. He seemed pretty adamant about it. He's leaving the corps and taking Ben under his wing. Somehow I don't think that's all he has in mind,” he added with a grin.
Rachel was mortified to realize she was blushing. Was it that obvious?
"I need to get on the road,” Amanda said. “I need to make a full report in person."
"It's your call,” Rachel told her. “You can't fly out of Redburn Airport right now, you know."
"No, really? Amazing how an airport without any people to run it is the next best thing to useless."
* * * *
As soon as she said it, she regretted it. She couldn't speak for Rachel, but her own dreams had been filled with nightmare images of what had happened in that cave. She'd awakened half a dozen times, on the verge of tears.
Reminding everyone that those citizens of Redburn who hadn't been smart enough to flee early were now lying dead in the caverns from bullet wounds fired from their weapons. Veronica had killed some, but they had, in their attempt to escape the frenzied mob, gunned down roughly a quarter of the town's population. Using sarcasm to deflect her own guilt wasn't productive when it simply sent it bouncing back to others who shared that guilt.
Rachel's face went stony. “You get enough sleep to make the drive?"
Amanda nodded. Can't wait to see my back now, can you, Rachel? She nodded. “I'm ready to go."
She dodged back inside long enough to pick up her overnight case, and then left them all standing on the porch as she climbed into her car. She lifted her hand in a half-hearted wave and pulled away.
They watched her leave. As soon as she was out of sight, Rachel turned around and walked back into the house. Ben moved to follow her but Bigby reached out and stopped him as he passed. “They're carrying a heavy burden, kid. Let her work through it in her own time."
"Whatever you say.” He turned around, trotted down the stairs, and stood in the yard, staring the direction Amanda had gone.
Of Man and Monster Page 24