by C. E. Martin
Suddenly, her heart skipped a beat, and Decklaa stopped licking her oversized lips—she had seen something. Past the professional gambler enjoying the view. Past the check-in counter. Something at the end of the terminal, three waiting areas down. A shape.
Decklaa picked up a magazine from the table beside her and held it up, in front of her face. She was sure her potential playmate was confused, but she didn't need the distraction. She let her eyes glaze over and reached out with the other senses at her disposal. The ones that hadn't come with this body.
There it was. Definitely not human.
It hovered above the floor, several feet up. Even with her sixth sense straining, she could barely make it out. A nearly invisible form, shimmering and drifting around the terminal slowly, ghost-like.
But this was no spectre. It was both alive and not alive at the same time. Something about it seemed vaguely familiar to her. Decklaa concentrated, going through the thousands of years of memories she had accumulated in her long lifetime.
She felt her cheeks blush and her throat dry up when it came to her. She put down the magazine, and looked around the terminal. Everyone else appeared human. Nothing was out of the ordinary. The astral form flitting about the airport was alone.
Decklaa shifted her concentration back to her flesh and blood eyes and smiled at the combover man. He had a strange look on his face—he'd clearly seen her eyes rolled up into her head as she concentrated on the astral plane.
Decklaa adjusted her breasts and stood slowly. The human projecting themselves outside their body had to be looking for her. And that meant the soldier in black couldn’t be far behind. She needed to leave. She needed some cover. Combover would do just fine.
She knew how to play the game—she'd been toying with humans for centuries. She walked over to the man and leaned down, so he could see down the sequin dress.
"Let's go get naked," she said in a whisper.
Combover's eyes got big and he swallowed nervously. The gambler in him was screaming about something being too good to be true, but he was used to taking risks. He quickly stood up, nearly headbutting Decklaa as he did so.
"Leo," he said. "My name's Leo."
"The lion," Decklaa said, stroking the collar of her fur coat. She moved beside Leo and slipped an arm in his. "I bet you're a real beast."
***
In the back of an FBI surveillance van, Mark Kenslir frowned. "You're sure?"
Superimposed in the tactical goggles, Gloria's face was almost as stern. "Positive. She's made Lily."
"Who's Lily?" Kenji asked, watching the feed on a monitor in the van. Kenslir had taken Kenji's tactical module and connected it to the van, turning it into a remote command center linked to the Detachment's main command center in Miami.
"Ghost Walker," Kenslir said. "Have her keep her distance."
Kenslir tapped the short blonde agent in the back of the van on one shoulder. "You got her?"
"Fur coat?" Pam Keegan asked, watching the monitors she had tied into the airport's security cameras. "Yep. We should be able to track her anywhere she goes now."
"You," Kenslir said to Kenji. "Stay here. Do not leave this van. And keep an eye on what's happening."
Kenji nodded. "You're going in?"
"I don't have much choice. We can’t let her get away carrying those contaminants."
***
Leo couldn't believe his luck. Women like this normally couldn't be found outside Vegas. But here she was, sitting in the St. Louis airport, waiting for the right guy to come along. What a great way to end the weekend.
Come back to town, see his sister and her family, then fly back to Vegas to place his bets on the big games. And hook up with a real looker on the way. Oh, yes, Leo was very thankful for what he was about to receive.
If they could just find somewhere private.
The leggy brunette was leading Leo through the airport, all but dragging him along as her eyes flitted back and forth. He guessed she was looking for a VIP lounge. At this time of night, on a holiday weekend, it might just be empty.
Leo hoped so.
"What's your name, honey?" Leo asked as they continued on. He glanced back over his shoulder briefly. Did they just pass a lounge?
"Call me mother," Decklaa said.
Leo smiled devilishly. Oh, yes, he'd found a real wild one. He briefly considered asking if this was going to cost him—but he really didn't care. It'd been at least four days since his last hooker. He was overdue.
Decklaa paused, looking back over her shoulder. There was no sign of the astral projection she had seen. Nor was there any sign of the soldier in black. Although she guessed he probably would have changed his clothes by now, the same as she-
No—there he was. Flanked by four airport security guards, walking right toward her. Not good.
"Leo," Decklaa, said, turning to her companion.
"Yes—momma?" Leo grinned back, his gold fillings catching the light.
"I need you to hold something for momma."
Leo looked down at Mother's chest. "Oh, yeah—anything."
Decklaa grabbed Leo and pulled him in close, planting her lips on his. Her tongue snaked into his mouth. Leo grabbed her buttocks with one hand and a breast with the other.
The gambler squeezed Decklaa with surprising strength for such an elderly man. Then his squeeze intensified and he tried to pull away from her. But she was far stronger than the feeble gambler. She held tightly onto him as her tongue continued to swell in size and length, extending down the back of his throat, headed for his stomach.
Mark Kenslir held up his hand for the men with him to stop. "Get these people out of here. Now."
"Yes, sir," one guard said. He wasn't sure what the big deal about the gambler and the hooker was, but when the FBI and Homeland Security came around, you did what they said. He and his men spread out, to round up the people in the terminal and get them out.
"All right, all right," Kenslir said, walking forward, his hand resting on the butt of the OA-93 strapped to his leg. "Play time's over."
Decklaa finally broke off her long kiss, pulling away from Leo, her long tongue coming up and out of his mouth as it retracted into her body. The old gambler collapsed to the ground at her feet, in shock.
"You again," Decklaa said, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand.
"Trade up?" Kenslir asked.
"You like this one?" Decklaa asked, shrugging off her fur coat. She ran her hands down the sides of her new body, over her breasts and hips. "It's very experienced."
"I'll give you a chance," Kenslir said. "Come along quietly and maybe we'll let you live."
Decklaa threw her head back and laughed. "We?"
"I'm not alone," Kenslir said, and nodded to the left.
Decklaa glanced over, toward the floor-to-ceiling windows of the terminal. Beyond them, she could see two military helicopters coming in, long ropes attached to their underbellies, men clinging to the ropes. More soldiers.
"Well, neither am I," Decklaa said.
On the floor beside her, Leo began to convulse. His body trembled and shook ferociously.
"One zombie? Really?" Kenslir asked.
"Look again, soldier boy," Decklaa said.
Kenslir leaned a bit to the right, looking past the elemental. He could see that all down the length of the terminal building, people were collapsing to the floor, shaking and spasming.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
The combover zombie was surprisingly fast, leaping to his feet and charging Kenslir in the blink of an eye. But 5.56mm bullets were faster.
The OA-93 spat out a stream of rounds that ripped into the zombie, tearing his legs to shreds and sending him toppling forward. Kenslir adjusted his aim and fired another short burst into the monster's head, exploding it and ending the combover once and for all.
Then the elemental was on him.
If she really was an elemental, she'd been around a long time—long enough to pick up quite a few skills. Like m
artial arts.
A flying sidekick carried the sequined monster right at Kenslir, one of her pointed heels aimed for his face. Had he been a man of normal flesh and blood, Kenslir likely would have felt that spiked heel pierce his brain. Instead, he reacted just as quickly as the elemental, throwing up his left arm and deflecting the kick.
The woman crashed into Kenslir, but didn't knock him down. She spun in place as she landed, her mouth opening and a tentacle shooting out. Again, he reacted swiftly and blocked it with his OA-93.
The tentacle wrapped around the submachine gun, and with a toss of her head, Decklaa ripped it free from Kenslir's grip and threw it away from them.
Kenslir slammed his forehead into Decklaa's, smashing her face and knocking her back two steps. Blood flew from a shattered nose and the elemental felt a ringing in her head.
Kenslir pressed his attack, spinning and letting out his own sidekick. It caught Decklaa just under her body's augmented breasts, breaking ribs and sending her crashing backwards. She quickly recovered, rolling and leaping up.
She wiped the blood running out of her nose with the back of her hand, then kicked off her heels. "You're not entirely human—are you?"
"And you hit like a girl," Kenslir said, charging forward.
Decklaa dodged to the side as the Colonel led with a fist. She spun around in place, slamming an elbow into the Colonel's side. It felt like hitting a brick wall. Then Kenslir launched his left fist into the small of her back, shattering several vertebrae. She was knocked off her feet and skidded across the polished floor of the airport.
But she was no longer alone. The many passengers in the airport were fully transformed now, and rushed to surround their mother. Six charged Kenslir, grabbing at him, jaws opening and closing as they sought to bite him.
Kenslir's fists swept around and one knee struck out. The six infected broke and crumpled like cardboard, flung off in all directions.
Decklaa was back on her feet now. Her fingernails extended and she raked them down each thigh, cutting long slits in the constrictive, sequined dress and the skin of her legs. The garment had been too confining, but now she could move in it.
She charged forward again, the split skin of her legs rapidly healing as she slammed into Kenslir, head ducked, leading with her shoulder—like a football player.
The raven-haired elemental caught Kenslir by surprise and he actually felt himself knocked off his feet. He crashed against the glass of the terminal, which buckled under the impact. As he started to fall backwards, he grabbed two handfuls of the elemental’s long hair and hoped it wasn't a wig.
Kenslir and Decklaa toppled backwards out of the window, falling twenty feet to the tarmac. As they fell, seven gray figures sprang upwards, carried by superhuman muscles now turned to stone. They crashed through the glass of the terminal windows, landing lightly and opening fire. Their M60s, fired from the hip, swept through the terminal, felling the scores of infected bunched up, ready to jump out after Kenslir and the elemental controlling them.
***
This was not good. Kenji was gripping the seat of his chair in the surveillance van with white knuckles. He could feel his heart racing. They'd messed up again. The elemental had infected everyone in the airport.
"What the hell is going on in there?" the busty FBI agent in the van asked. She was looking from one monitor to another in a panic.
The noise from the radios being monitored and all the flashing screens was too much for Kenji. He couldn't concentrate. He had to leave—both the van and this awful present. He reached for the door of the van.
"Hold it!" Pam Keegan said, grabbing his sleeve.
"I've got to get out of here," Kenji said. "I have to go back—we have to try this again."
"No," Keegan said, reaching under her jacket. "The Colonel told you not to leave the van."
"Look, I have to go," Kenji said. "I need some peace and quiet. I can’t end this vision in here with all that going on."
Pam pulled out a taser and aimed it at Kenji. "Don't."
Kenji considered, but opened the door anyway. "I have to."
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
The fight was not going well for Decklaa. She could ignore the sandpaper-like texture of the concrete, skinning up her feet, knees and elbows when she was knocked down. She could even repair the bone-crushing punches and kicks from the soldier in black. But not for much longer.
The soldier was beating her to a pulp.
Decklaa slashed with elongated fingernails, kicked and punched with her own inhuman strength. The soldier was unstoppable though. His dense flesh and tough bones resisted most of her attacks. And when she did manage to break something, the soldier pressed on, oblivious to the injuries. He was as inhuman as she was.
The soldier was swinging her by her hair now, spinning her around in an arc. He released her and she sailed through the air, crashing into a baggage cart and knocking it over. That broke several ribs.
Decklaa climbed to her feet— she wasn't as quick now as she’d been when they'd started their fight. Her stolen body was covered in cuts and bruises—she only had the energy and time to heal the most major of injuries. Her dress was in tatters, a sequined rag that left one augmented breast exposed. She looked like she'd been run over by a truck.
Kenslir leaped at her, clearing twenty feet of tarmac in a single bound. The elemental tried to twist out of the way, but she wasn't quick enough. A military boot caught her in the shoulder and bone crunched and splintered as she was spun in place and sent sprawling to the ground.
Decklaa landed on all fours, knees and palms scraping painfully on the rough concrete, then the Colonel was on her again. He landed on her back and looped an arm under her chin, placing her in some kind of choke hold.
She had to get out of here.
Decklaa tried to liquefy herself, but the instant her skin started to dissolve, green light flared. Where Kenslir's sleeves were torn and ripped from their fight, his skin could touch hers. And the touch of his skin burned like a white-hot brand on her liquefied body.
Decklaa screamed in agony and reverted to flesh form.
That was his secret—the soldier's. He was somehow able to cancel out her powers. If she kept a natural form, she was safe, but the instant she tried to turn into something else, his touch cancelled out the control she had over her own molecules. It was like pouring herself into a fire—a fire that burned a bright green.
Decklaa bucked and kicked, trying to get Kenslir off her. She managed to rise to one knee, despite his superhuman strength. Then she drove a hand behind her—right into the Colonel's groin.
He was a man after all, Decklaa discovered. She squeezed as hard as she could, her sharp nails puncturing first fabric then flesh. Kenslir grunted in pain, releasing his grip around the elemental's neck.
Decklaa twisted around, maintaining her grip on his privates. She could feel warm blood running down her fingers from where they had mangled flesh. "So, you are a real boy."
Kenslir answered by driving his fist into Decklaa's jaw. Her jawbone splintered and teeth exploded from her mouth as her head swung violently around. She released her grip and staggered backwards, vision blurring for a moment. The blow had nearly knocked her unconscious.
Decklaa sensed something then—behind her. She turned in place and started running, back toward the terminal. Her vision cleared as she ran and she felt a thrill and a relief. Her infected were spilling from the broken windows of the terminal now. Some were being shot as they fell, others before they could jump. But there were too many for the soldiers inside the terminal to stop. Their machine guns and some weird blue-white light flashed and flickered, but they could not keep the undead from escaping. And running to their mother.
Decklaa smiled as she ran. This was what she needed. This body wasn't strong enough to beat the soldier. But with enough bio-mass, she could make one that was.
The thought was almost knocked from her head as she was tackled from behind. Not only was the soldi
er stronger than her, he was faster.
Kenslir smashed into Decklaa and drove her into the pavement. They rolled and twisted on the ground, the elemental a clawing, biting, kicking ball of sequined fury, desperately trying to break free.
Covered in her own blood and sweat, half-naked, she was slippery, and finally managed to break free. Kenslir grabbed at her, catching a trailing edge of sequined fabric. Decklaa twisted against the fabric, tearing free from it, leaving only a shred of the cheap dress in his hand.
She stretched out her hand, her fingers lengthening into miniature tentacles as she resumed running toward her creations. She collided against the lead undead servant, and they collapsed into a heap on the tarmac. Two more quickly leapt onto the pile.
Colonel Kenslir ran up and grabbed at the first zombie, ripping it free—most of it. Pulled by the ankle, only the zombie's leg came free—the hip joint a gooey stringy mass. The elemental and her minions were merging—melting together.
Several more charged over, diving head first into the blob of flesh and bone.
Kenslir began to back away.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
ONE DAY BEFORE INFECTION (4th Attempt)
When the darts of the taser hit him, it was far more painful than Kenji would have ever guessed. Being tased that was something that had not yet happened to him in all the many futures he'd experienced.
Of course, he'd seen the effects on TV and in movies. He thought he knew what to expect. But like so many things, the reality was just too different to really imagine.
If he got to do this over, Kenji knew he would avoid being tasered again. It was an experience he did not enjoy in the least, despite its non-lethality. However, luck smiled on him as it always did in his visions, and the incredible pain of the taser actually helped his cause. It knocked him out.