Monster Stalker
Page 28
I am the servant of your victims—
I am the Death greater than you—
His home, his hell. She would cut his heart out even if that heart were her own. Nico nearly slipped on spawn and looked down. Spuds with teeth grew out of the bio-matter.
Babies.
The little spawn wriggled, mewling and their mouths gaping. Nico saw their faces in the darkness, enraged, impotent, and weeping. Tears squeezed because—
Because?
The Rocklyn.
Her maker wept.
Nicky, he cried, before erupting into flames.
Nico dropped the lighter fluid can on the baby spawn. She ran back down the tunnel as spawn clawed, and tossed her last flash-bang behind her.
The blast sent flames flying from the exploding fuel can. The mewling spawn erupted into roaring fire that silenced them, but the mature spawn at the mouth of the cave screamed. Nico pulled the pin on a grenade and threw it towards the entrance.
The cave trembled from the explosion and earth rained down. A flying spawn limb smacked Nico in the face. She leapt through the grenade’s smoke, slashing. Soot swirled in the open pit and spawn flailed, the vehicle still smoking and burning bright. Nico sliced through the spawn around her and jumped.
She landed on the rooftop without it collapsing and kept her feet moving before her fireproofed soles melted. She threw her last grenade for the blue light marking the hanging rope. In the thumping flash that illuminated, spawn bodies jumped, popcorn-like, in the air. Nico leapt across the pit.
Claws whipped for her. Nico landed at the blast site with her kukri in hand and began slashing towards the dangling rope.
Jaya Mahakali, she screamed.
Spawn bodies opened up from her blade. Limbs dropped as she whirled and lopped, slicing through everything her furious knife could reach. She saw the rope and jumped high.
Nico grabbed the rope with one hand, and claws raked. A swipe seared her back. Nico’s hand slipped off the rope.
She hit the ground and the spawn inundated. Her knife whipped up, slashing through gnashing jaws. She chopped and chopped, each strike sending reaching claws and limbs flying. But each step she took moved her in an unknown direction. When she saw the blue light again, it bobbed in and out of view from a mass of spawn lunging before it. Nico moved faster and a screaming mouth descended from behind.
She swung around. The air rippled, a sudden displacement from—
Weird energ—
WHOMP
A hole erupted in the mouth, the shot ploughing through and into more spawn. Nico slashed through its body and kept her blade moving.
WHOMP WHOMP
Spawn splattered Nico’s goggles, and she heard the high-pitched—whirl of—
Five air displacements—
Five spawn exploded before her from scatter-shot, splattering her and Bear. One spiralling shot brushed Nico’s side and shoved her, a blow to her ribs. Nico slashed with the motion and advanced, the blue light bobbing near once more. She stuck her kukri behind Bear and leapt high for the wall. Spawn hurled themselves up as she grabbed the rope and held on. The air expanded behind Nico, shoving her into the wall. She smacked her face.
WAMWAM
Flying limbs and broken teeth struck the wall, and Nico looked up.
Shayla stood above in goggles and a graffiti artist’s paint-stained gas mask, the ends of her corduroy coat pushed back as weird matter warped over her body. With hands by her sides and fingers flexed, Shayla opened fire.
WAMWAMWAMWAMWAM
Strafed spawn splattered Nico as she climbed, hand over hand, her soles slipping as the pit’s side became slick with landing bio-matter. But even above the weird matter explosions and the roar of a car fire, the spawn screamed, the sound arcing through the air. Something landed on Nico’s back and sank teeth into her shoulder. She yelled, ripping her lips on the duct tape, and pulled out the kukri. She stabbed at the biting mouth, sticking the blade in herself instead. Claws hooked her legs and dragged her down. Shayla pointed.
The explosion next to Nico’s left ear shattered her eardrum and rattled her teeth and vision. The kukri flipped from her numbed fingers. Shayla reached down and grabbed Nico’s empty hand. She pulled Nico up, made a fist with her free hand, and aimed.
Warping weird matter rippled along Shayla’s arm and exploded, the recoil flaring out her shoulder. The spawn clinging to Nico’s legs burst and fell away. Nico clambered over the pit’s lip with Shayla pulling hard.
I am out. She stumbled into Shayla and then held Shayla before herself. She tore off her duct tape and mask, inhaling soot and smoke. I am free.
Screams heightened in Nico’s one ear and a hot scent filled her mouth and nostrils beneath the sharpness of chemical particles.
Rich, uterine—
Nico lunged for Shayla’s throat.
—whoonk—
Nico’s chest burst and blood sprayed. Her left side spun back and she thought: what an odd sound. Like—
A—projec—tile—
MP-1634 stood in the billowing smoke, gun raised.
Nico became dead weight, sound and sense of touch leaving. The tunnel tilted and her vision vanished. She still tasted Shayla’s scent on her tongue.
She wanted to say: thanks for saving Shayla.
She wanted to say: thanks for not shooting Bear.
She landed, her body thundering, and felt herself die again.
***
A sharp ringing intensified in her left ear and pulled Nico awake.
Her eyes remained closed but her face scrunched at the escalating pain. Something cold and hard pressed against the suffering ear and the acute noise lessened. Then the object moved away and someone placed something soft that muffled and adhered: a bandage.
A woman spoke with a New Yorker’s accent, and Nico smelled smoke and Shayla. A case clicked shut near Nico’s tender ear.
Ow. Not so loud.
“Fifteen years old?” the woman remarked. “Her ear will be good as new in an hour.”
“Uhh,” Nico whispered.
“Well, look who’s awake,” the woman said. “Can you tell me your name, young lady who’s waking up?”
“Nico.” She swallowed, her croaking throat dry. “Alexikova. And Bear.”
“Can you tell me where you are right now, Nico?”
“I’m...on some crazy planet...with beautiful women.”
“That sounds about right,” the woman said, and a straw pressed to Nico’s lips; blood. She sucked hard, scrunching the snack pack. Someone caressed her forehead, smelling of peaches and fresh blood.
“Niky, this is medic Bobienski,” Shayla said. “She’s patched yer heart, chest, and back, and pumped a few pints into yer stomach. Yer shoulder has a bad bite in it, love, but the wounds like it are healin’ already.”
“Okay,” Nico said, her voice shaky. She pried open her eyes and saw the night sky. They were outside the tunnel and in the open passageway, the breeze rustling the treetops. Wisps of black smoke rose. She moved her eyes and saw Shayla, cheeks still flushed from the pit’s heat. She no longer wore the goggles and mask. “How is Bear?”
“Mr Bear’s safe and happy, chick, only needin’ a bath.” Shayla held him up; he still sat in his pouch and harness, unharmed. Esche’s choker remained around his neck and Shayla had pushed his goggles up. Bear also looked like he’d been dipped in freshly ground spawn.
“Yay,” Nico said feebly. Bobienski shut another case and Nico winced.
“Didn’t even need the organ-regenerator,” Bobienski said. “That heart will be good as new by tomorrow. Okay, I need my stretcher.” She and Shayla helped Nico to sit up. Nico had been lying on a rolling stretcher, mucked up with her bloodstains and spawn residue. Bobienski and Shayla lifted her off and set her down on the ground.
“Thank ye for comin’, Jane,” Shayla said as the medic expanded the stretcher, then rolled it away with the cases atop it. Shayla turned back to Nico while Jane loaded a medic van.
“Wha-what about you?” Nico said. Bear’s own sullied state soiled Shayla’s coat. Shayla smiled.
“Since my own fight in the pit, chick, I’ve become resistant.” She smoothed Nico’s hair and Nico inhaled through her mouth, tasting Shayla’s blood in the smoke-tinged air. The hatch shut on the medic van. Jane drove away, crunching debris.
Medical bills. She’ll worry about them later.
“I’m sorry I attacked you,” Nico said. “It’s no excuse, your smelling so edible. Please say you would have shot me.”
“Aye, I would’ve shot ye.”
“You’re just saying that because I asked,” Nico complained.
“Attack me again, and I’ll shoot ya,” Shayla said, her oestral-rich scent lifting.
Nico’s fangs emerged.
“Wissht.” Shayla rubbed Nico’s bottom lip, and to Nico’s surprise, her fangs receded. “We need ya walkin’ now for the healing.”
A patched heart. She rose shakily with Shayla’s help. The still organ within felt like a burst grapefruit, mashed back together, and Nico rubbed at the tender, new skin on her chest. It itched. She was surprised to still be alive; 1634 had decided to only partially destroy her heart. When she looked down at her bared, white chest she saw how Bobienski had slashed her clothes. Her cardigan and shirt hung open, ruined.
“This was my only outfit,” Nico exclaimed.
“It’s a bonnie look when not manky, and oh, ye’ve sweet breasts,” Shayla said, grinning. Nico gaped and crossed her arms over her chest. Then she realised—
She pulled her shirt remnants aside. Bobienski’s patching had obliterated the I and L in the word KILL carved over her heart. Below, where her abdomen started, her maker had cut the word FOR, and right at her belly button, the word ME. One more word lay far below her skirt’s waistband, unseen and incised across her mons pubis: NICKY. She looked up and saw Shayla’s eyes, filled with tears. Shayla wiped at the ones that fell, frustrated.
“I telt myself I wouldn’t do this tae ye,” Shayla said in self-admonishment. She smiled. “Ye’re beautiful, Niky. Marks and all. Never have I seen a girl so brave and true. Ye’re pure magic.”
Nico’s own eyes stung.
“Oh. Ow. That hurt!” she said as a tear fell. “Can we hug when I’m clean?”
“Aye, and more. Let’s get ye washed.” Shayla took Nico’s hand, her other holding Bear, and they walked together, Nico’s stride unsteady.
“You haven’t asked—why—what happened at the hostel. And then this,” Nico said. “You should be mad.”
“Aye, I was mad. If not for the Makepeace, I wouldn’t have reached the pit in time, and I suspected ya of an intention I should wring yer ear for,” Shayla said with force, and Nico put her hand to her bandaged ear in alarm. “But we’ve plenty of time now for ye tae gie me yer whole tale, love,” Shayla added softly.
“Thank you,” Nico whispered. No one else was present in the open passageway except for tiny creatures in the weeds and debris, their eyes shining. Even the furtive graffiti artists were absent. The night sky, full of stars, was evident beyond the city lights on the street level above. A winged creature flew across, its body like a lion's.
Shayla’s Id ring chimed and Shayla summoned a small interface. She read, brow knitted, then tapped a brief message.
“Oh no, are you in trouble?” Nico exclaimed as Shayla deactivated her interface.
“I’m in trouble?” Shayla said in mild surprise. “No, chick, it was Lucy’s, asking if I were okay. They telt me about the fight. My uniform advertised the diner durin’ the Slaughter Spawn broadcast,” she added, wry. “Now they’ve more customers than they can handle.”
“I made you leave work...fight in your waitress uniform! You look beautiful in it, but it’s just not—I think I ruined your gunslinger reputation,” Nico bemoaned, and Shayla laughed, low. She pointed at the monumental Shyla O’Fey graffiti on the concrete wall. Its paints glowed in the dark, and the gold leaf glimmered. Shayla’s face softened.
“No one’s supposed to know I fought in the pit, love.”
Nico’s insides warmed from a sudden realisation and she squeezed Shayla’s hand, wishing her own hand wasn’t so cold and undead.
You earned a monument for the sister you love and mourn, and...and maybe for the creature she is. Nico felt her repairing heart might re-burst at the thought.
“You should have shot me. I’m glad I only wanted to eat you and not mur—” Nico stopped walking.
“Niky?” Shayla said.
“I di—I didn’t want to murd—a ha-ha-ha,” Nico said, the sound hurting her, but elation bloomed, leaving her mouth as painful joy. She no longer wanted to murder. Those she loved were in no danger.
“Ha-ha-ha,” Nico cried, the sound echoing against the sides of the passageway, and she held her aching chest, her repairing heart bleeding.
***
“Niky?” Shayla repeated with gentle concern. Nico had ceased her strange laughter, but she still held her heart with both hands, unable to fathom her good fortune.
My demons have fled.
“I—I’m okay.” Nico resumed walking, Shayla watching beside her. “It’s such an odd feeling, being free. I’ll—you’ll understand when I tell you everything.”
“I’ll be listening, chick.”
“What happened to MP-1634?”
“The Makepeace? Oh, once she saw you were patched up, love, she left.”
“She?” Nico said. “She?”
“Aye,” Shayla said, smiling. “Couldn’t ya tell?”
“Not with such a...a big codpiece. Are the Makepeace okay with me?” Especially when I became primal and wanted to bite you.
“Since she’s not here, chick, I think they’ve concluded yer case.”
“I hope so,” Nico said, and her regenerating heart felt lighter.
“Ye haven’t asked me yet how ye did in the pit,” Shayla then said. “Lucy’s telt me the results.”
“Oh?” Nico said, picking her way over debris. “But I cheated at the game. I used a burning car and grenades. And you came and saved me.” She took Shayla’s hand and held it in both of hers. “Thank you.” I will thank you with so much sex.
“Aye, but ye went into their tunnel, chick, and no fighter dares tae do that. That makes up for burning up half the spawn before ye jumped in. But ye were in their lair fer nearly three minutes,” Shayla added with severity.
“Sorry,” Nico said meekly.
“Ye were ruled as havin’ won, for ye stayed in the pit, six minutes. Dae ye want tae know how much ye made on yer fight?” Shayla asked, her tone casual.
“My—? Oh, I didn’t bet.”
“I thought so! Ya bad girl, Niky, ya had no intention of comin’ back out!”
“I thought I had time to tell you my story?” Nico squeaked.
“Aye, ye do.” Shayla rubbed Nico’s forehead with her thumb. “Ya ough’ tae be spanked.”
“Heh,” Nico said. She’d like that. They walked past the Cyrillic graffiti.
“Tell me what it says, Niky.”
“Strashnaya mest' i medved’. It means, ‘Fearful vengeance and bear’. People gave me the name on Old Earth, when I was after something.” She hung her head. “Killing everything.”
“Did ye find it?” Shayla asked, her tone soft.
“Yes. I saw it in the tunnel.”
Nico recalled the little mouths, shrieking.
“I saw his face,” she said. “His pitiful, awful face. And that face wasn’t me.”
***
The plaza of the ugly, roaring fountain was empty, devoid of life except for the stir of litter by the night breeze. Shayla helped Nico out of her oxfords and ruined stockings and took the bandages from Nico’s ear and shoulder. Nico stepped into the shallow pool. She waded to
the pouring spout of a fountain’s head.
“Is it okay to put evil muck in the fountain’s water?” she’d asked Shayla earlier.
“Aye, the fountain’s called Purity,” Shayla had assured. “It cleanses everything.”
Nico’s slashed shirt and cardigan slipped off her shoulders, and she pulled the rest down, the remnants hanging from her wrists and skirt’s waistband. She stepped beneath pounding, freezing water and held her arms out, palms up, to reveal the messages incised on her forearms. The plaza’s lone lights wavered through the sheets of sharp water that might cut away the intentions carved into her flesh—drown the words forced so long ago into her mind and body.
Obliterate me.
Nico emptied, and wings and gold rushed in.
Shayla was washing Bear in the shallow pool, dipping him with a reverence that seemed a baptism, when Nico finally stepped out from beneath the pouring water. Shayla squeezed Bear, the water falling clear, and sat him down by Nico’s shoes. She rose and took off her corduroy coat, then held it open for Nico.
A warm coat—warmed by true body heat. Woodsy peach and bergamot beneath chemical smoke hugged Nico as Shayla knelt and unbuttoned Nico’s cuffs, and if Shayla noticed and read the raised scars on Nico’s forearms, she chose to make no mention. Shayla removed the slashed clothing. Nico did not shiver; she was an undead thing—cold and with a heart unbeating—but gladness stirred within, a radiance of gratitude, as she looked down at Shayla’s shining hair.
Your Prince Charming, huh? Delores had said.
Shayla rose and hugged Nico tightly.
***
Nico had put her arms into the coat’s long sleeves and was wiggling out of her wet skirt at Shayla’s insistence when Dorothy chimed from the harness’s pocket.
Shayla buttoned Nico up, then sat down with her by the shallow pool, wringing out Nico’s skirt while Nico checked the caller’s identity. She blanked out holo viewing. She wasn’t ready to look Heloise in the eye.