by R. T. Lowe
Her rage startled Felix. Lofton was clearly manipulating him. He knew that. But in his mind, he envisioned the scales of justice with Hamlen on one side and ten thousand people on the other, weighing it down, raising Hamlen above them. Felix watched the real Hamlen talking with his friends, snacking on a handful of something from a paper bag.
“Lofton wants Felix to make it look like a heart attack,” Allison added.
“Oh?” Kayla glanced questioningly at Felix. “You can do that?”
Felix shrugged, his eyes still on Hamlen. The scales of justice, he thought. It wasn’t even close. Hamlen’s life was a speck of dirt compared to ten thousand. He glanced around, trying to estimate the size of the swelling crowd. Were there even that many here? Would he allow so many to die so Hamlen could live?
“I saw Lofton do that once,” Kayla said, her voice strained, as though the memory troubled her conscience. “The deputy mayor came into this restaurant we were at and threatened to expose Lofton’s connection to the ERA. Lofton crushed his heart, killed him dead right on the spot.”
Ten thousand lives, Felix thought, hearing Kayla but not really listening. All I have to do is… is…
“Felix?” Allison said and he blinked as if awakening from a dream. “You okay?”
“You’re not seriously considering killing him, are you?” Kayla stared hard at him.
“I’m not an idiot. I know Lofton’s putting me in an impossible situation. I get that! You think I want to kill a professor?” Felix let out a long breath that misted in the cold. “But… but ten thousand people? I mean…”
“It’s a false choice!” Kayla shouted. “Lofton doesn’t give a shit about ten thousand people. He only cares about one.” She stabbed a finger at his chest. “You! He wants you and he’d kill a million to have you. All that sacrifice bullshit and collective good bullshit is just that—bullshit! He only wants power. Total domination. You can help him achieve it and that’s why he wants you—that’s all he cares about!” She tugged at her lip, frowning. “Look—Hamlen’s already as good as dead. You don’t think Lofton has contingency plans to make sure that next podcast doesn’t happen?”
“You can’t do it!” Allison blurted out.
Felix widened his eyes at her, wondering why she seemed so frantic all of a sudden. “What are you—?”
“I know why he wasn’t at school the past few days,” Allison said, sounding guilty. “You know how Caitlin told us he’d canceled his classes for personal reasons?”
Felix nodded, gesturing impatiently for her to continue.
“He had a baby.” Allison’s eyes misted over and she gave him a faltering smile. “A girl. A baby girl.” She stared down uncomfortably at her feet. “I stalked his Facebook page. There’s pictures—loads of them. She’s, well, she’s cute.”
“Oh,” Felix said quietly. He didn’t know what else to say. He liked babies and figured Allison did too, though he couldn’t recall the subject ever coming up.
“A baby,” Allison repeated and her voice sounded distant. “You can’t take away her daddy. You have no idea what that…” She fell silent and turned away, staring off at the barns and silos on the horizon.
“Listen!” Kayla said sharply. “You want to show Lofton how you feel about being manipulated? Tell him to fuck off!”
“Why do you even care?” Felix threw up his arms. “You said he’s got contingency plans. Someone else will just do it for him. It doesn’t matter what I decide.”
“Then let’s protect him!” Allison shouted, turning back, putting her hands on Felix’s arms.
“Yes!” Kayla shouted, eyes wide with excitement.
“Then the Order’s manipulating us!” Felix fumed, frustrated that he couldn’t seem to avoid this conversation, even on an ice cream farm. “We do that we’re one of you.” He scowled at Kayla. “I’m not gonna kill anyone or protect anyone. I’m not gonna do anything! Not today! Why won’t everyone just leave me the hell alone?”
“I’ve only recently been admitted to the Order, you realize?” Kayla said. “It’s not like I’m the captain of their cheerleading team or anything like that.”
“Maybe it’s… time.” Allison watched Felix warily, as if fearing his reaction.
Felix said nothing. It didn’t feel like time. He wasn’t going to choose a side until he was absolutely certain he was making the decision for himself and that just wasn’t the case right now. So everyone needed to back off.
An uncomfortable silence followed.
“I almost forgot!” Kayla burst out excitedly, breaking the long quiet, and clearing the tension in the air. “I have something for you.”
“For me?” Allison said.
Kayla nodded, shrugged off her backpack and unzipped it. “I got permission to give this to you.” She reached in and came out with a cylindrical length of metal, silver and glinting in the sun and about the length of a nightstick. Smiling, she handed it to Allison. “I’ve found you the perfect weapon.”
Allison held out a tentative hand and took it in her fingers, nearly dropping it. “Whoa! It’s heavier than it looks.”
“Most of the weight is on this end.” Kayla tapped it. “It’s twice as thick as the other side. You’re supposed to hold the skinny part, and I think there’s some little grooves there for your fingers.”
Allison had already slipped her fingers into the notches and was turning her wrist back and forth, getting used to the weight. She slashed down and it made a whooshing sound as it cut through the air. Allison grinned like a kid on her birthday. “I love it. It feels so… solid, like it could smash just about anything.”
Kayla smiled. “It can. It’s supposed to be unbreakable, but I couldn’t tell you what it’s made of. Jalen would”—she caught herself—“this Drestianite I used to know. He wasn’t half bad and he was totally into comic books. If you asked him, he’d probably say it’s adamantium or something super geeky like that.”
“What’s this?” Allison ran her thumb over a tiny depression near the handle.
“The coolest part.” Kayla beamed, stepping back. “Press it.”
Allison flexed her thumb. There was a soft click, and then a ball of six-inch spikes flared out from the heavy end like a balloon inflating with helium. The metal nightstick had become a mace.
Allison gawked at it in amazement, giving it a couple of test swings.
Kayla smiled approvingly. “Didn’t I tell you it was the perfect weapon for you? Those spikey things will retract when you put pressure on that little spot there. But other than that, I’ve no idea how it works. Malone would tell you it’s a one-of-a-kind and the finest example of precision engineering he’s ever seen, but it could operate on batteries for all I know.”
“Malone?” Allison asked, swinging it back and forth.
“It was his wife’s,” Kayla said.
“And he let me have it?” Allison looked surprised.
“That’s why I had to check with him. I knew it had a lot of sentimental value, but he didn’t even think about it. I asked him and he just said ‘yes.’”
Allison touched the spikes with her fingertips, delicately, testing their sharpness. “Why would he do that?”
“He likes you,” Kayla said simply. “And he likes you being alive. You have a better shot of surviving with that war hammer thingy than your fists.” She raised a finger as if a thought had come to mind. “He did want me to tell you that it’s a bludgeoning instrument and not a slicing instrument if that means anything to you.”
Allison slid her thumb along the handle and the spikes disappeared. “Very, very cool,” Allison whispered, smiling. Then her mouth curled downward and her brows knitted together in confusion. “Where do I keep it?” Felix understood her quandary. It was only slightly shorter than her arm so she couldn’t exactly tuck it into her waistband.
“I have a solution for that,” Kayla said brightly. She reached again into her backpack and tossed her something Felix thought was a tank top. Allison held it by a
strap, examining it. “It’s kind of like a sports bra,” Kayla explained, “but there’s a little loopy thing in back that you can slide that death dealing device into so you can conceal it. Pretty cool, right?”
“Pretty cool,” Allison agreed.
“Very cool.” Felix liked the idea of Allison having a weapon to defend herself. Everyone else seemed to have one, after all. “Just another reason not to piss you off,” he added with a grin.
“You haven’t pissed me off in ages,” Allison said. “No—wait a minute! You were moping around about something and I had to set you straight. When was that, three or four days ago?”
“Yesterday,” Felix said with a straight face. “But I think I have some pretty legit reasons to—”
Someone screamed. Then a chorus of screams rang out. Felix tensed. The voices sounded panicked, different than the boisterous shouts and hoots of applause when one of the bands finished a set. The banjos abruptly cut out in a discordant screech and the speakers hissed and popped with feedback. A groundswell of confusion rippled over the crowd and the band’s lead singer shouted into the microphone, “Holy Jesus, what the hell is that thing?”
Felix saw a food truck flipping over and over and people scattering to get out of its way. It flattened tents and carts and crashed to a shuddering stop, wobbling on its side. A man with a long beard popped up from the serving window and glanced around, dazed. He looked up and his jaw lowered as if he was screaming though no sound could be heard over the blaring of the truck’s horn. Then he was plucked from the window and swung high in the air, his feet kicking and pointing to the sky, his head inside the mouth of a creature so strange Felix’s mind couldn’t assimilate what his eyes were seeing. Its snout and jaws were crocodilian and its long serpentine neck and tail were dragon-like, as was the body attached to them. The legs, however, were the legs of a spider—if a spider stood as tall as a house. It gave its head a furious shake and the man was shorn in two at the waist, his lower extremities sailing over a group of revelers scampering for safety. It swallowed down the torso and scurried after the crowd, trampling stands and display tables. A woman threw herself under a food truck and the creature slipped its head under the chassis and flipped it over. The woman, now exposed, stumbled to her feet, running for a tent. The creature’s head snapped down and she disappeared in its mouth like a worm swallowed up in a bird’s beak.
It leaped atop the food truck and the tires exploded, crushed under its weight. Rotating itself gracefully on legs as thick as trees, it raised its head, arching its neck like a swan, and from its sides emerged wings that cast a deep shadow across the fairgrounds. Felix gaped, feeling his mouth fall open. The truck seemed tiny by comparison, and its wings, like the rest of it, were unnaturally black, as though they had been dyed the color of eternal night. Remembering Hamlen, he searched for him among the thousands who had taken off across the fields of unharvested hay, desperately trying to reach the cars in the parking lots beyond the barns and outbuildings. The monster flapped its wings and let out a roar that chilled the blood in Felix’s veins then it hopped off the truck and gave chase to the fleeing spectators. It was unnaturally fast, its legs chewing up huge chunks of trampled grass, moving silently, like water flowing downhill.
Fixing his stare on the moving target, Felix raised his hand and concentrated on the base of its skull, cutting into its flesh. The monster lurched and skidded to an awkward halt, rearing up, bellowing thunder, bending its head around toward its body, searching for the source of the deepening wound. Felix ripped into its flesh and sawed through the bones. It raised its wings and beat them down, creating a stormy wind that overturned carts and garbage cans, the scattered refuse swirling around it. Its legs began to lift off the ground—it was attempting to fly away. Felix slashed through the tendons, the bones and the remaining flesh. Its head fell, tumbling down lazily, thumping to the ground, a pool of blood as black as oil spreading around it. It stood there, headless, all eight legs planted firmly, the blood shooting from its severed neck, then it slumped, the legs on one side collapsed and its body tipped in the same direction, finally crashing down, its forked tail thrashing.
There was a moment of stunned silence and then Kayla began cursing. “That fucking asshole!” Felix knew who she was referring to. Only one man could be responsible for this.
“Holy shit,” Felix muttered vaguely. “That thing’s ugly. And big. Really big.”
Kayla patted him on the shoulder. “Slightly more impressive than moving a tennis ball.”
“Felix!” Allison hissed, grabbing his arm and wheeling him around. She pointed up at the sky and shouted, “Look!”
Fighter jets? Felix thought, staring at the dark objects. There were two, coming in low and straight for them.
Kayla shielded her eyes from the sun, squinting. “Bombers?” she said uncertainly. “I don’t see any missiles.” She lowered her eyes, taking in the crowd, many of whom had now stopped and were staring up at the sky. “Felix,” she said urgently, “I can’t watch him do this again. Not to all these people. Not again.” She pointed up. “Take them out! You have to—”
The wings on one of the planes rose up and then down, arching during its ascent.
“Deathheads,” Allison whispered. “That’s what that Numbered One called them. Those aren’t planes.”
Deathheads, Felix thought, watching them, heart pumping fast with excitement. With their legs tucked under them and the wings rigid, they looked just like jets. They were growing larger, and their trajectory, from what Felix could tell, put them right in the center of the crowd.
“Fire?” Allison suggested. “Can you blow torch those things?”
Felix grunted and raised his hand, creating a curtain of flames that appeared in the sky, enveloping the creatures, hiding them from view. Then they burst through the wall of fire, beating their wings with a sudden urgency, gray smoke trailing behind them.
“They’re get—” Kayla started.
“I got them,” Felix replied confidently. The creatures were too big and powerful to bring down with just sheets of fire. He watched them closely, focusing on the pattern of their flight. They were still pounding their wings, but flying crookedly now, zigzagging as if they realized something on the ground was trying to force them down. Felix trained his eyes on their stomachs and exploded fireballs of scorching flame, spreading it across their bodies, crawling it up their necks and along their tails. They beat their wings rapidly and tried to change course, but Felix had them in his crosshairs and was making the fire hotter, stripping the flesh from their bones. The head on one of the creatures sank low as if its neck could no longer support the weight and it tilted on its side and dropped, falling from the sky like a burning comet, striking the ground with a thunderous boom. The remaining Deathhead straightened its wings and banked hard to its left, aiming for the crowd. Felix felt for it with his mind and clutched it in a mental grip, stalling its descent while increasing the intensity of the flames, incinerating it, and then letting it go when he thought it had to be dead. It dropped straight down, belly up, wings curled around it. Those on the ground watched and pointed, some cheering when it landed in a hay field in a cloud of dust.
Felix twisted his head, searching the sky.
“I don’t see any more,” Allison said, eyes trained up and looking all around.
“Me either.” Felix’s pulse had already returned to normal. “I think that was it.”
“Even more impressive,” Kayla said. “Good job.”
Many in the crowd began to return to the fairgrounds, sifting through the wreckage near the stages, looking to aid the wounded. Sirens sounded in the distance and curls of dust kicked up in the dirt lots as the first responders started to arrive.
“I see Hamlen!” Allison pointed.
Felix found him and his group standing around talking and pointing at where the creatures had fallen. Several others had descended on the first monster he’d killed, their cell phones out, taking video and photos, posi
ng alongside the head.
“This wasn’t for Hamlen,” Kayla said, disgusted. “This is all about fear. This is Lofton reminding everyone they should be scared and that only the New Government can protect them.”
“Hamlen being here was a coincidence?” Felix asked skeptically.
“I think so.” Kayla shrugged. “But it’s hard to say with Lofton. You have to remember, Lofton doesn’t just kill people—he kills people for a purpose. To send a message.”
“Nice work, Restrainer.” Allison nudged him jokingly with her elbow. “You didn’t even threaten the earth’s orbit this time.” She smiled at him. “You’re making progress.”
He laughed.
Kayla watched him for a moment and her expression changed. “So that’s what the Belus looks like in action. I wish everyone could have seen that. It would give them so much hope.”
Hope? Felix thought, mumbling something and looking down, embarrassed by the compliment—and the fact that it wasn’t true.
Kayla smiled apologetically, realizing she’d made him feel awkward. “Sorry, I, I just never imagined the Belus was someone who’d come along in my lifetime. I never even pictured what he’d look like, but”—she smiled at him teasingly—“I guess you’ll do.” She turned serious once more. “Can you imagine what those things would have done if you weren’t here?”
Felix looked out at the crowd. There were a number of injured among them and he knew that at least two had died. A man was on his knees sobbing into his hands while someone put a blanket around his shoulders. Watching the anguished man, it didn’t feel like such a victory any more.
“You just saved all those people,” Kayla said to him, “and that’s awesome and everything, but what you need to remember is that Lofton would have killed them all. Mr. Chosen One was willing to sacrifice a few thousand folks out enjoying a little food and music for no other reason than to scare people. When you’re trying to decide whose side you’re on just remember those people down there.” Her eyes moved to the crowd. “Remember them.”