World of Darkness - [Time of Judgment 02] - The Last Battle

by Bill Bridges (epub)

  “This is terrible news. The banetenders hold ancient secrets and know where the oldest and most powerful of Wyrm beasts are bound, those that were too powerful to slay. There is a legend of the Five Talons of the Wyrm, the claws broken off in battles by our ancestors. They became monsters and roamed across the land, causing havoc and destruction. One by one, they were trapped and bound, kept hidden in the Earth, watched over by the Uktena. Their secret magics knew how to make the monsters sleep and how to keep the bonds tight. ”

  "Is it true? ” Quiet Storm said. “Is one of the Talons free? ”

  Aurak didn’t answer. He looked down at the scribbles he had drawn in the dirt. “We must call a council, and prepare to fight this monster. ” He walked away from the trailer, heading toward the center of the village. Quiet Storm, her face stricken, ran in the opposite direction to tell her packmates.

  Evan felt alone for the first time since he’d arrived at the sept. They’d made him welcome, and even though they teased him about his heritage, they seemed to genuinely respect him. But now, in the face of this crisis, he was a stranger. He had no packmates to run to.

  He sat down on the dirt and waited.

  They brought Evan strips of deer meat roasted over the fire and called him back with them to the fire pit where many of the tribe were gathered. Wendigo warriors, shamans, lorekeepers and scouts stood or sat, none of them speaking, all of them watching Aurak Moondancer with wary expressions on their faces. The old sept leader stood throwing dust and ashes into the fire, creating odd clouds of mist that seemed to glow. Evan thought he saw pictures in the clouds, but couldn’t be sure.

  Gathered beyond the circle, poking their heads from trailers or tents, the human Kinfolk watched and listened.

  Evan sat down next to Quiet Storm and her pack, and she gave him a brief, guilty smile before turning back to watch Aurak.

  Finally, the old Garou stepped away from the fire, sighing. He sat down on a log, grimacing with arthritic pain. He looked down at the ground and spoke, his voice deep and loud.

  “Bad times have come. A monster runs loose, escaped from the North. It is old, very old. Older Brother has watched it for many ages, keeping it tied up. Now it is loose. It is one of the Talons of the Wyrm. ”

  A growl traveled through the ranks. One warrior stepped forward. Evan recognized him: Painted Claw.

  “The Narlthus? Thar was defeated! "

  Aurak shook his head. “No. It is another. There are five talons. The Narlthus was but one. ”

  Evan thought he remembered that name. It was a Wyrm creature that threatened New York about ten years ago. He didn’t know the full story, but he now seemed to recall mention of the Talons before in reference to the Narlthus.

  Painted Claw said nothing more and stepped back to his place. Evan couldn’t be sure—many of his tribemates had a practiced stoicism—but the warrior looked worried.

  “I know very little of this creature, ’’ Aurak said. “The Talons were captured so long ago—soon after the Three Brothers came to this land. One of the Uktena charged with guarding the Talon lies dying. I will try to learn more from him, but until then we must prepare to hunt this creature, to destroy it before it kills too many people. It will be weak after its long captivity, but it will still test the power of every Garou here. We may not be enough. ”

  "Then let us go now! ” Flint Knife said. “We must find its trail and chase it! "

  Growls of assent came from all quarters. Evan stood up.

  “Wait, ” he said, stepping forward. “The banetender, he said something important. " He looked at Aurak, whose face gave no clue as to what he was thinking. “He said ‘Little Brother must not fight alone. ’ We need allies. "

  “Yes, ” Painted Claw said, stepping forward again. “We should call the Uktena. Perhaps they know how to bind it again. ”

  “He also said no one could bind it again, ” Evan said. “The Uktena aren’t going to be enough. We need the other tribes. Surely among all of them, we can find the power needed to stop this thing. "

  Painted Claw growled in anger. “The other tribes? The Wyrmcomers brought the worst of these things here! They can’t be trusted to stop them. ” He shot a glare at Evan. "We know your history, Heals-the-Past, and how you want the tribes to work as one. It cannot be done. Blood spilled cannot be poured back into the veins. ”

  Evan almost spoke but stopped himself. He was a guest here, and had no desire to create bad blood between himself and one of the sept’s mightiest warriors. There were many in the tribe who did not respect Evan’s mission to heal the rift between Garou tribes, and Painted Claw was clearly one of them. He looked at Quiet Storm to see if she would speak for him. She watched Painted Claw and chewed her lower lip, but said nothing.

  Aurak spoke next. “This thing was here before we came. It is that old. We trapped it with the help of Middle Brother, but he is now gone. Heals-the-Past speaks wisely. ”

  “But the other tribes are far away in New York! ” Painted Claw said. “Even if we could spare the time, they would refuse to come such a distance! It is foolish to wait for them. ”

  “And yet, ” Aurak said, “we should wait. Evan will go to the South, to summon help, and return in three days’ time with an army. This will show us the true merit of the other tribes. We will be a force unseen in the North for ages. ”

  Painted Claw bowed his head, accepting Aurak’s decision, although clearly not happy about it. “I will gather a war party. It leaves in three days... with or without aid from the South. ” He glanced at Evan with suspicion and skepticism, and then left the circle.

  Evan looked down at Quiet Storm, who tried to smile for him but didn't seem to have the power. Aurak stood and motioned Evan to him as the rest of the Garou turned to leave. The council was closed. Now was the time to prepare for the hunt.

  Evan joined the old man as they walked from the circle to a nearby grove, where Lame Paw, the Gatekeeper, lived in his old tent. They waited for Lame Paw to return, for he had been at the circle like the others and had stopped to speak to his packmates. Aurak looked Evan in the eyes, an uncommon thing among his tribe. He patted the young man’s shoulder lightly.

  “You must show Painted Claw and his band that they are wrong. The other tribes must come. Cries-at-Sundown did not speak lightly. I fear it was prophecy, not advice. Bring the others to our aid, Heals-the-Past. ” “I will, ” Evan said. “Don’t worry. Even they wouldn’t be so hard-headed as to refuse. If this thing isn’t stopped here, it will come for the other tribes next. ”

  Aurak nodded. Lame Paw arrived, shrugging his shoulders. He set about the ritual for opening a moon bridge. He knew the destination, the same from which Evan had come: Central Park in New York City. The Sept of the Green.

  When the silvery radiance unfolded in the small glade, Evan stepped through the portal without a word. He had learned over the years that his tribemates, like many Native Americans, were far less verbally demonstrative than the average American. The value of silence was well recognized and words, when they came, were carefully weighed. Even those spoken in passion by warriors such as Painted Claw were spoken from the heart.

  But there were no words worth speaking now. It was a time for action.

  The factory stank of death and chemicals. Mari Cabrah wrinkled her nose and tried not to breathe the stench. Her eyes darted about to catch a glimpse of any enemies who might still lurk in the seemingly abandoned industrial warehouse on the New Jersey shore. Her ears perked up at what sounded like people talking in next room. Mari crouched down, her thickly muscled, oliveskinned body moving smoothly, making no noise in her green fatigues and Chinese martial arts slippers. She crept slowly and carefully to the edge of the large docking warehouse and edged her head partway around the comer to get a glimpse.

  Three men—clearly factory workers, judging by their overalls with the Tao Chemicals logo—stood around an open drum, dipping their hands into it and bringing up handfuls of greenish sludge. They eagerly dev
oured the foul liquid, moaning with pleasure as they slurped it down, as if they were connoisseurs at a caviar-tasting contest. Mari looked closer and saw the scabrous warts on their hands, arms and necks. As they opened their mouths to swallow the gunk, she saw the barbs on their oversized tongues.

  She had been right: fomori. The factory had once been crawling with them. But now, on the day she and the Silver River Pack had arrived to clean it out, it was practically abandoned; only these three workers remained. Her rising rage almost caused her to jump forward and take them out immediately, but she knew they had information she needed. She’d have to make sure they couldn't escape before confronting them.

  Mari crept quietly back into the room from which she had come and from there back down the long hallway to the front offices. She stepped into a room full of filing cabinets and desks. The plant bosses had disappeared quickly, so quickly they didn’t care what incriminating evidence they left behind.

  Julia Spencer, a well-dressed woman in her mid- to late twenties, looked up from a desk where she was going through a computer’s data files. “Find anything? ” she asked Mari in her curt British accent.

  “Yeah, ” Mari said. “Three fomori. ”

  Two heads poked out from behind the rows of file cabinets. One was a wolf, the other a Chicano girl.

  “Say what? ” the Chicano said. She wore oversized baggy pants and a tight muscle shirt. “There’re still some of those bastards here? ”

  The wolf growled and padded over to stand by Mari, looking up at her, obviously waiting for some sort of order or call to action.

  “Where’s John North Wind’s Son? ” Mari said. "I want to surround these guys before they know we’re here. I need someone quiet. ”

  “I’ll get him, ” the Chicano girl said, running into the next room and down a hall. A few minutes later, she came back with two men, one a Native American, the other a shy white guy with a knit hat pulled down low over his ears. “So, let’s go, ” she said.

  “Okay, ” Mari said, “here’s what I want to do: Big Sis, ” she pointed to the Chicano girl, “you come with me to cover the main exit. John and Storm-Eye, " she looked at the Native American and the wolf, “you creep around back to cover the docks. That’s where they’ll try to run when they see we’ve blocked the exit. Julia and Cries Havoc, ” she looked at the shy young man, “I want you two in the Umbra, in case these guys have some way of stepping sideways. Everybody got it? ”

  They all nodded.

  “Good. Let’s go. ”

  Mari headed back down the hall and into the packing room foyer, Big Sis following close behind. John and Storm Eye went the other way, heading for the side exits that would take them to the docks. Julia and Cries Havoc stayed in the room, each shifting from material reality to spiritual substance, beyond the Gauntlet and far from the reach of mundane senses.

  As Mari and Big Sis approached the dock room, they heard an argument among the fomori.

  “Hey, you fuck! ” one of them yelled. “Who says you get the last bite? I’m the supervisor here! ”

  “Screw you, ” another one replied. “You wear the suit, but I’m older and more experienced. I get the prime pick. ”

  “The fuck you do, ” the third said. “You may be able to grow a barbed tail and two more arms, but that don’t impress us. That barbed-tail shit don’t mean nothing to armored skin! ”

  Mari and Big Sis poked their heads around the corner and saw each man taking off his jumpsuit, each displaying some freakish, mutated feature. The last one to speak did indeed have armored skin, thick folds of carapace that had appeared like rolls of fat underneath his jumpsuit. Another one was now completely naked, with a long, whitish tail jutting from his buttocks, a cluster of sharp barbs on its swaying end. He had four arms; the two extras extended from his ribs.

  The third fomor laughed, pointing at the tailed one. “Thinks he can take us both, huh? ” he said, sharing a smile with the armored one. He unzipped his suit and revealed a slick, slimy layer of gelatin that coated his skin. He rolled some off into his palm, balled it like a snowball, and raised it back, ready to hurl it.

  Big Sis moved forward, but Mari held out her hand, halting her. She shook her head, still watching the fomori.

  The slimy one threw his ball at the tailed one, who barely dodged it. It slammed into the wall behind him with incredible force and immediately burned a hole into it, its acidic sizzle crackling and echoing through the empty dock room. The tailed one leapt forward, grabbing Slimy with all four arms. Three of the arms couldn’t grip the slippery surface, but one latched onto the guy’s wrist and held tight, at which point the tail lashed over his head onto Slimy’s back. The barbs broke skin and the victim screamed in pain.

  “Okay! Okay, goddamn it! Fucking poison! Hurts like a bitch! Let go! ”

  The tailed one released his prey and the guy fell in a heap, clenching his jaw and shutting his eyes tight, pounding the floor with his fists to distract himself from the pain.

  The armored fomor looked at his felled comrade and shrugged his shoulders, clearly telling the tailed one that he wanted no part in the drama.

  Mari stepped forward, clucking her tongue loudly. The two standing fomori spun around, surprised. The one on the floor spat through gritted teeth.

  “Dissension in the ranks? ” Mari said. Big Sis walked in behind her, shifting into battle form. As impressive as her hulking, wolfish form was, Mari, still in human form, seemed more threatening. “Maybe we can give you something to unite against. Or maybe we can beat the shit out of you, after you tell us where the hell your bosses went... "

  The two fomori turned and ran, leaping through the open dock port and onto the dock planks below. Wolf howls erupted to their left and right, and Mari and Big Sis could hear them yell in surprise and anguish. The third fomor, trying to rise but still wracked by pain, started to cry.

  “Please, ” he said, holding up his palms as if to show he had no weapons, gobs of acidic slime still dripping from his skin. “Please, I don't want to die. I just worked here, that’s all. I didn’t asked to be changed into a... a monster. "

  “But you sure enjoyed it anyway, ” Mari said, towering over his kneeling form. “You seem to have adjusted to eating Wyrm toxins, even fighting for leftovers. I’ll tell you what: I’ll make it quick and painless if you tell me what I need to know. ”

  The fomor began whimpering. Big Sis came up behind him.

  “Fuck this! " she said, looking at Mari. “Let’s string out his guts real slow and paint the walls with his blood! ”

  “No! ” the fomor cried. “I’ll tell you! The owners, they just left. They did what they planned and then said the heat was getting too hot. They didn’t show up yesterday. We were the only ones who came in today, hoping we’d still have our jobs. You don’t understand: I don’t like eating that shit—1 have to, or I’ll die. They addicted us to it. ”

  “You said they had a plan, ” Mari said. “What was it? "

  “Oh, that. They infested the New York sewer system with a bunch of pig things. Sludge spirits or something. Sent them out yesterday, in barrels on a tugboat. "

  “Tugboat? ” Big Sis said. “Like the one that sank yesterday? ”

  "Exactly the one that sank yesterday. That’s how they were released, where no one could see them. ”

  “Shit, ” Mari said. “How many? ”

  The fomor looked confused.

  “How many things are loose?! ” Mari said, pulling back her fist.

  “Thirteen! That's all! I swear it! ”

  Terrible animal growls and screams erupted outside. The slimy fomor covered his face, shuddering.

  “Please... just do it, ” he said.

  Mari nodded to Big Sis, whose claws cleanly sliced the fomor’s head off with one swipe. The stump sprayed whitish-gray goo in a ten-foot high torrent for a few seconds, but then lost pressure, dribbling to a slow ooze. The body thudded to the floor, unmoving.

  "I hate fomori! ” Big Sis said.
“Gross motherfuckers! ”

  “They were once normal men, ” Mari said, walking to the open door to peer outside.

  “Yeah, no better, ” Big Sis said, following Mari.

  John and Storm-Eye stood over the bodies of the two fomori, kicking them to make sure they were dead. The one with the barbed tail had three of John’s arrows sticking from him; the fatal shaft jutted from his eye. The armored one apparently had no armor on his legs— an eye-level attack for Storm-Eye. Mari could see the terrible jaw marks on his calves.

  “Let’s drag them in here and bum the bodies, ” Mari said. “Then we’ve got to get to New York. ”

  “And do what? ” Big Sis said, a look of disgust on her face. “Crawl through a bunch of sewers looking for pig monsters? ”

  “No. We’re going to warn Mother Larissa and let your fellow Bone Gnawers take care of it. Leave the sewer work to the children of the Rat totem. ”

  • • •

  Traffic was a bitch, but it always was. Julia’s SUV finally pulled over to the curb by an entrance into Central Park. Mari opened her door and leapt out before the car came to a complete stop.

  “Mari! ” Julia said. “Hold up a moment. I can’t park here. I’ll let you off, along with anyone else who doesn’t want to help me find parking, ” she said, looking coldly at her packmates in the backseat, “and meet you at the caern. Okay? ”

  “I have to get to Larissa pronto, ” Mari said. “See you in a few! ” She slammed the door and turned to leave.

  “Wait! ” Cries Havoc said, climbing out of the back passenger-side door. “I’m coming with you. ”

  Mari stopped and waited, clearly impatient, for him to close the door and join her. She had been a trying passenger the whole trip over the bridge. Too much waiting and too little action. As soon as he reached her, she headed off into the park with a power walk that had him jogging to keep up.

  Julia pulled away from the curb and drove off into the thick stream of cars. The others stayed with her, probably fed up with Maris griping about slow traffic and glad to be rid of her for a while.