by Rach Elle
Madge’s mouth formed a perfect circle as she nodded in acceptance of that reasoning.
Rue swallowed the lump in her throat, “Okay, well, I guess I’ll just give it to him tomorrow.” She headed back down the hall toward her team’s office.
“Sink,” Jerry said.
“Float,” Savannah insisted.
“That doesn’t even make sense.”
“Sure it does; look at beach balls.”
“Beach balls are filled with air.”
Rue entered the office and made a B-line for her desk.
“Rue,” Jerry began, “Settle an argument will you? Would an armadillo sink or float?”
Rue couldn’t care less about what the hell sparked that argument between two adults. She needed to get out of here; fast. “Sink,” she said matter-of-factly as she closed down her computer and grabbed her coat. She dropped the red folder on her desk. “Do me a favor; tell Rod I couldn’t find Chase. Tell him I had an emergency and had to go home. Thanks.” She turned and left the office.
46
The sun had set a couple of hours ago. It was nearly ten PM. Sunders put on his fleece hooded jacket before grabbing his keys and wallet. He was just about ready to leave his flat when he remembered the most important piece to this puzzle.
He grabbed a tiny device off of his writing desk and held it in front of his face between his fingertips. He narrowed his eyes until he found the small groove Mason had described and using the very tip of his fingernail, flipped the switch; turning the tracking device on. He then placed the small piece in the inside zippered pocket of his jacket.
Sunders left his flat just as soon as the taxi pulled up to the curb. He locked his front door, climbed into the car, and gave the driver an address; completely oblivious to his audience.
In a side alley sat a motorcycle and its rider; watching Sunders intently from behind her dark helmet. As the taxi pulled away from the curb and headed for its destination, Rue revved her engine and did the same.
47
Bawli sat in his human form in the front seat of a black Mercedes. Alvin sat behind the wheel and Mason was in the backseat, watching his laptop intently; waiting for Sunders’ tracking device to register on the screen. The night air was eerily still as Bawli stared out the windshield toward the back road that stretched parallel in the distance. The Mercedes’ engine was off; had been for some time. They were parked on the side of a dark pathway; far enough away from the road for any set of human eyes to detect them.
Alvin turned toward Bawli; his expression grave. “You don’t have to do this, mate.”
Bawli took a deep breath and spoke without looking away from the road, “I know.”
Alvin scoffed and shook his head, “What are you trying to prove, anyway? This whole thing can go south rather quickly and yet you’re acting like it’s just another walk in the park. At least acknowledge the fact that this is dangerous.”
“If it’ll help our clan survive the war, then it needs to be done; dangerous or not.” He said without emotion.
Bawli could feel his anxiety rising. He just wanted to get this over with. After a few moments of reading Alvin’s face in his periphery, he softened his voice and spoke. “Alright, listen,” he began, “We didn’t come all the way out here without backup. You know Junior, Zeff, Cooper and Tauggle are all perched out of sight; waiting for the signal to jump into action. I’m not alone. I’ll be fine.”
Alvin sat in silence for only a matter of seconds, “You know we’re here too.” He watched as Bawli looked to him and smiled slightly. “We’ve always got your back.” He motioned to Mason in the backseat.
“I know. You haven’t let me down yet.” Bawli returned his gaze to the dark road in the distance.
Alvin crooked a brow, “You still haven’t told me what’s wrong.”
“What do you mean?”
“Oh come on, Bawls,” Alvin moved forward and intersected Bawli’s view. “You’ve been off the last few days. What’s going on?”
“Nothing.”
“Is it Elizabeth? It’s not really a secret how much you fancy her. You can talk to me, you know.”
“It’s not Lizzie,” Bawli cut him off.
“Then what is it?”
Bawli set his jaw, closed his eyes and inhaled a large breath of agitated air. He leaned his head back against the seat, “I had another dream a few nights ago.” He said in a low voice.
“About your redhead?”
“No, about something else; it disturbed me; that’s all. I’m just praying it won’t come true.”
“But your dreams have never actually come true, have they? I mean, you see a head of hair and a week later it shows up, but a full-fledged dream? That’s not typical, right?”
Slowly, Bawli shook his head.
“See?” Alvin nudged his friend in the arm, “Nothing to worry about then.”
Bawli was about to agree just for agreement’s sake when Mason spoke up from the backseat, “He’s here.”
Bawli narrowed his eyes on the road in the distance while Alvin pulled out a pair of night vision goggles. They both watched as Sunders Harper appeared; alone.
“Looks like its show time,” Bawli said as he stepped out of the Mercedes and shifted.
Sunders stood in the middle of a deserted street. The tar beneath him had pot holes and cracks with weeds growing through them. Off in the distance he could just barely make out an old abandoned tunnel that used to be the main access into the city; before they built the motorway, that is. Now this stretch of land was neglected, forgotten, and unlit; exactly what they needed.
“Sonny,” Bill’s voice called from behind. Sunders turned around to see Bill approaching on foot. He looked exasperated as he huffed and puffed in the chilled night air. “Mind telling me what is so important that I had to park a kilometer away and walk the rest?”
“I couldn’t take any chances of you being followed.”
Bill looked around as if to say it was an unnecessary precaution.
Sunders’ ears perked at the sound of someone in a nearby brush. “Trust me Bill,” he smiled, “It’ll be worth your while.”
On cue, a figure began to emerge from the shadows. Bill stopped short at the sound. His eyes widened as a large, deformed dinosaur-like foot stepped into the moonlight. The figure continued moving forward, revealing its size and monstrous physique one meter of flesh at a time. Within seconds the gargoyle was fully exposed; his wings wrapped around his broad shoulders like a cloak and his long, floppy ears bounced gently in the wind.
“Good Lord, Sonny,” Bill breathed, “Is that really a…”
“Aye, that it is, Bill,” Sunders beamed proudly, “It’s a real gargoyle; in the flesh.”
Bawli took a step forward and Bill stumbled back. Sunders held up his hands as if to catch him even though they were too far apart. “It’s alright Bill,” Sunders tried to calm him down, “He won’t hurt you.” He looked to the gargoyle, “Will you Bawli?”
Bawli slightly bowed his head, “You have my word.”
“Blimey,” Bill gasped, “he can talk?”
“Aye,” Sunders’ expression fell grave, “they’re not the savages you and I once thought they were.” As his manager and the shifter approached each other; forming an intimate triangle among the three of them, he continued to speak, “They’re rather civilized and are of no danger to society. They have no interest in hurting anyone.”
Bill squint his eyes through the darkness at the large gargoyle before him. “How many of you are there?” He asked.
Bawli’s expression remained stoic, “Not nearly enough.”
“There are very few of them left in the world,” Sunders continued. “If they were widely recognized they’d be considered an endangered species. That’s why we can’t have the Protectors involved any longer. They kill first and ask questions later. I’ve seen their tactics firsthand and I know they can’t be trusted. How are we to learn from these creatures if they’re all dead?”
Bill held up his hand to silence his subordinate, “Save the theatrics Sonny, I’m well aware of the gross misconduct that division likes to practice.”
“Then call them off,” Bawli cut in. “Tell them the investigation is over and they are no longer needed here.”
Bill crooked a brow, “What makes either of you think I have that kind of pull?”
“Please Bill,” Sunders pleaded, “I know you can make this happen.”
Bill placed his hands on his hips and tried desperately to wrap his brain around what was being asked of him. After a moment of nothing but the wind rustling through the trees, he opened his mouth to speak, “I suppose I…”
A small thud echoed in the night air followed by the sound of an incoming missile. Before the three of them could register what was happening, a cable with a ball at each end soared through the air; one end attaching itself to Bawli’s bare skin while the other rapidly released more cable and using momentum, wrapped itself tightly around the gargoyle. Bawli’s arms were instantly pinned at his sides and his legs were strapped together making it impossible to run. His eyes flashed red as he lost his balance and fell to the ground; trying desperately to break the impenetrable cable.
Sunders dropped to the ground and tried to help Bawli while Bill; stunned and frightened, turned to run away; his strides were cut short by an approaching figure.
“Not so fast, Bill,” Wade said. He sauntered forward with his broken arm in a sling and a pistol in the other hand. Bill’s eyes darted from left to right to see three others emerging from the shadows. He slowly backed away toward Sunders and the fallen gargoyle.
The three all whipped their heads toward the right to see an oncoming black truck. It skidded to a stop in front of them. Another Protector jumped out of the separate, front cab and they all quickly got to work.
“I told you, mate,” Alvin said as he looked at Mason in the backseat, “I haven’t been using your computer.”
Mason dead panned from the screen to his friend, “You know deleting your browser history doesn’t actually delete your browser history, right?”
Alvin sat in silence for a moment, unblinking and unmoving. Finally he opened his mouth to confess when a loud roar sounded in the distance. He snapped to attention and grabbed his goggles. The night vision blurred for a half second before flashing into a focused image of Protectors throwing Bawli into the back of a windowless, armored truck. Sunders and Bill followed him, tied at their wrists with rope and threatened with guns pointed at the backs of their skulls. “Fuck!” Alvin exclaimed. As Mason frantically asked for an explanation Alvin grabbed his two-way radio. He held down the button as he cried, “We need help down here!”
Immediately his call was answered by Cooper, “What’s going on?”
“Protector ambush,” he checked his goggles again, “Four of them; they’re shoving Bawli and the Finders into the back of a black truck.”
“We’re on our way.”
The Protectors closed two of themselves in the back of the truck with their hostages while the other two climbed into the front. The truck took off. Alvin threw down his goggles and started up the engine.
“What are you doing?” Mason asked.
“We’re not going to lose them,” Alvin said as he popped the car in drive and headed straight for the large patch of brush that lay between their path and the deserted road.
The Mercedes clunked, bounced and ricocheted as it hit every single rock, bush and grazed every tree; but Alvin wouldn’t slow.
“We can follow the Finder on GPS!” Mason called as he held tightly onto his laptop.
“We’re not letting Bawli out of our sight!”
The Mercedes finally reached the road and screeched as its tires tried to grab onto the sudden paved terrain. Alvin lifted his radio again, “They’re heading east toward the tunnel!”
“We’re almost there,” Cooper responded.
Alvin cinched his fingers around the wheel as the truck ahead came into view. The vehicle entered the tunnel without its headlights on, allowing its black exterior to blend into the shadows immediately. “We’ve lost visual,” Alvin said into the radio, “they’ll be coming out the other side of the tube in about thirty seconds.”
The static of the radio scratched once before Cooper’s voice answered, “We’ll cut them off.”
“Uh,” Mason said nervously as they approached the dark tunnel. “Maybe you should turn your lights on.”
Alvin shook his head, “We can’t let them know we’re on to them.”
“You don’t know what you’re doing, Wade,” Sunders said urgently.
The sound of the uneven terrain beneath them clunked throughout the armored compartment of the truck. Bawli sat propped upright in the back corner; still tied with thick cable. Both Sunders and Bill sat on a steel bench with their wrists tied together with rope; staring at Wade and the other Protector, Ramon, in front of them. Wade, of course, had a smug smile on his stupid face as his sling supported a broken arm – a result of the last time he’d tried to pull this shit.
Sunders stared at him with hard eyes, “Let us go now and no one will get hurt.”
Wade laughed, “Oh,” he began in his low, Irish accent, “Someone’s gonna get hurt alright; but it’s not gonna be me.”
The gargoyles and Tauggle soared through the air as quickly as they could. They had the tunnel in their sights. Simultaneously, they adjusted the angle of their wings and began to dive toward the ground. A black truck suddenly emerged from the tunnel and Tauggle disappeared.
A Protector sat in the driver’s seat of a black, armored truck, constantly gazing upward to see if any aerial attacks were on the agenda. Nothing appeared to be coming for him though. He returned his eyes to the road in front of him. “Shit!” He gasped violently. A pale, thin man with long white hair suddenly appeared in the middle of road. The Protector crimped the wheel to the right and slammed on the brakes, causing the truck to lose its grip on the pavement and tip too far to recover. The Protector held on to whatever he could find as the truck fell onto its side and skidded to a stop.
Zeff landed on the side of the front compartment of the truck and reached through the broken glass in the door. He latched onto the lapel of the Protector and pulled him out of the wreckage. The Protector’s eyes dizzily opened and barely had time to register the gargoyle in front of him before Zeff head butted the fucker; knocking him out cold and throwing him off to the side like discarded rubbish.
Junior and Cooper landed as Zeff jumped off of the truck and Tauggle casually strolled toward their circle. The four of them closed in on the back of the vehicle and the locked armored doors; hearing the rustling of the hostages inside.
The Mercedes drove into the tunnel with the only light emanating from the computer screen in Mason’s lap.
The radio broke silence, “We stopped the truck; we’ve got them,” Cooper announced.
Alvin smiled and eased onto the brake. He reached for the switch to turn on his headlights…
“Wait,” Mason creased his brow, “This doesn’t make any sense; they turned around.”
“What?” Alvin looked at his friend in the rearview mirror.
Mason continued to stare at his computer, “According to this they should be passing us right about… now.”
Suddenly, out of the shadows, a black armored truck sped past the Mercedes; jarring the two boys. Without hesitation, Alvin crimped the wheel and made a U-turn. “Cooper said they took care of it!” He exclaimed as he hit the gas and picked up speed.
“They must have taken out the wrong truck!”
Realization hit Alvin like a ton of bricks. He scrambled to pick up his radio and bring it to his lips.
“Vin said there were four Protectors,” Cooper said, “The rest of them must be in there.”
Junior reached the locked armored doors, “Then get ready to fight.” He latched onto the steel lock and prepared to break it off just as a static, scratchy voice called over Cooper’s
radio. Alvin was trying to say something. Cooper picked up the radio and answered, “You’re breaking up; come again?”
Junior broke the lock and flung the doors open to the sound of clicking. The three gargoyles were suddenly staring down a sea of shotguns and pistols as well as the eyes of over half a dozen Protectors.
Alvin’s voice called over the radio again, this time clear as a bell, “It’s a decoy!”
The Mercedes sped through the tunnel, trying to catch up to the truck. Finally, the mouth of the tube came into view and the moonlit sky provided enough light to actually see by.
Alvin yelled into the radio, alerting the shifters of Bawli’s new location, but no one answered.
“Shit!” He cursed as he threw his radio onto the passenger seat.
“Do you think it was an ambush?” Mason called.
“I think it’s pretty bloody obvious!”
“Then what the hell are we doing? We can’t fight off four Protectors!”
“Well someone’s got to!”
Just before they reached the mouth of the tunnel they heard a loud revving engine coming from up above. Suddenly, an object appeared in the sky; a black motorcycle and its cyclist drove off of the top of the tunnel and flew through the air, landing just in front of the Mercedes. The bike’s engine revved again as it pulled upward onto its back tire for only a second before exploding forward at a neck breaking speed.
“Who’s that?” Alvin shouted.
“I have no idea!” Mason answered.
“Are they on our side?”
“I know just as much as you do!”
“Well that’s not bloody helpful!”
The cyclist closed in on the truck, retrieved a handgun from the top of her combat boot and shot the lock of the armored truck three times with pinpoint accuracy. The lock broke apart and the two doors flew open, revealing the hostages and their kidnappers inside.