by Ross Buzzell
Doug glances out of his broken window to see Disa’ani slam into the ground. The concrete shatters around him like the glass did and the visceral sound of his impact echoes up the side of the building. He is about to jump when he notices Disa’ani rolling to his side and pulling the weapon from himself as if nothing happened. Doug takes a few steps back as he looks at the roof across the street. He hears Emma yell in the background:
“Doug, don’t go after him by yourself…”
The stone man gets a running head start and leaps as hard as he can from the building with so much force, he feels his body go weightless. He hears Emma scream from behind him.
“Damnit!”
Glancing down, he sees the ground, hundreds of feet below him, as he passes over the fountain in front of the building. He begins to fall, but his trajectory is good. Placing his feet together, he slams into the roof on the far side of the street with a violent jolt to his system. Using his forward momentum, he tucks his body and rolls forward before sliding to a stop. Even though he is in a stone form, his body hurts from the impact. He groans some before forcing himself to his feet.
“I need to find a harder rock if I’m going to do that again,”
he says softly to himself while he locks in on movement across the rooftops as Disa’ani attempts to escape. Doug smirks and takes off in an all-out sprint, turning back into his human form as he does and ignoring the rapidly dissipating pain in his body.
In a matter of moments, Doug realizes that his sprint is far faster than it was earlier in the week, before the energy wave hit him. As he leaps from rooftop to rooftop, following the man in black and yellow armor, the distances he covers with ease are far greater than even world record holders. Even in his human form, he is significantly faster and stronger than he was before the incident. He loses sight of Disa’ani at the base of a water reservoir on top of a building. He comes to a stop. Glancing around, he turns with the ambient street lights and the light of the full moon casting enough luminosity to give Doug a decent view of the world around him. His eyes are narrowed, his hearing sensitive as he keeps himself on high alert for what is sure to be a vicious battle.
“Protolithhhh…. Pppprrrroootolitthhhh.”
He hears Disa’ani’s voice echo over the rooftops in a taunting manner. His enemy can see him. Doug swirls around and scans the rooftops around him while he backs up against the water tower’s base so that Disa cannot flank him. Closing his eyes and tilting his head, Doug listens. He focuses his hearing on anything that could be his target. In the distance, sirens whir, crowds of people speak with one another and there is even a low roar that emanates from the baseball stadium a few blocks away. Then he hears it, the soft whistle of the air being sliced through. Doug’s eyes shoot open, his body shifts back into stone as he turns his body. Disa’ani’s spear glides through the struts of the water tower, aimed directly at Doug’s back, who is able to deflect the weapon with his forearm, which sends it spinning through the air and sliding clumsily across the rooftop.
Disa’ani leaps from his perch and on top of the water tower before dropping down at Doug with his fist drawn back, ready to strike. In the blink of an eye, Doug puts up both of his arms in a cross block, which causes Disa’ani’s fist to hit his forearms, between his wrists. Before Disa’ani’s feet even hit the ground, Doug opens his hands, twists them around, and grabs Disa’ani’s wrist. With a fluid and powerful motion, Doug whips his opponent to the side and slams him face first into the rooftop hard enough the surface gives way slightly. Doug leaps back, putting distance between the two and getting to more solid ground while Disa’ani pulls himself to his feet and dusts himself off.
“Not bad; what is that?”
he asks with an air of being impressed.
“Brazilian street fighting.”
Doug retorts while keeping his eyes locked on his target, but his senses wide open for any trap Disa’ani may have lain, including his spear. Disa shrugs, clearly not knowing what Doug was speaking of, and runs at him. Doug charges the invader as both of them engage once again. Disa’ani is faster, but in his stone form, Doug is stronger, able to break holds Disa puts the adventurer in and even overwhelm Disa’ani’s defenses by punching his forearms so hard that the soldier slides back. They trade blows as fatigue begins to set in to the point where Doug feels like whoever is the last one standing will be the winner from just the slug out.
Disa moves in to strike Doug in the head. Before the blow can land, Doug slams his fist into Disa’ani’s side so hard he becomes airborne slightly. Before he lands back on the ground, Doug leaps into the air and kicks Disa with both his feet right in the chest so hard Disa flies back and slams into the water tower, cracking its support beams. Doug’s mind drifts to the initial sight of this soldier and how he was trying to kill a defenseless girl. This causes anger to flare in him once more. He feels his body shift to a new form of stone. Disa puts his hand out and his spear returns to him.
“What kind of man attacks a defenseless girl?”
Doug growls. Disa’ani begins to chuckle:
“Oh, she was far from defenseless. With the cape and the fabled ring of the gods… She could snuff out all life on this pitiful little planet…”
He snaps his fingers.
“…just like that. If it were up to me, she would be hanging from my spear right now for the whole world to see! As would the other two ladies you came with.”
He knows how to push Doug’s buttons, the same way to push Konner’s: threaten innocents. Menacingly, two stalagmites form from each of Doug’s forearms as he keeps a level head and uses the rage within him to fuel his sense of inner peace that he forces himself to feel.
“Them I am going to have to send you and whomever you work for to hell where you belong.”
Disa’ani lets off another laugh; this time, it is more taunting and a little more insane.
“Someone takes themselves way too seriously.”
The laughing strikes a nerve with Doug, but he keeps his cool as he charges Disa’ani as to not make any mistakes. Disa’ani jabs at Doug with his spear; Doug dodges left and evades it. Now being inside the strike zone of Disa’s weapon with its head behind his own, Doug slams the right protruding stone into Disa’ani’s ribs. This causes his grip on his weapon to weaken. With his body rotated, Doug reaches back and is able to grab the weapon, drawing it behind his neck, and with a powerful jerk, he yanks the weapon from Disa’ani. Doug spins the spear through the air and with a single arm baseball swing slams Disa’ani in the side of the head with his own weapon.
Disa falls to the ground but manages to right himself fast enough to punch Doug in the chest hard enough for the stone man to stagger back, dropping the spear in the process. Doug catches himself and charges Disa’ani, who is still low on the ground. Doug drops to the ground in a baseball slide and swings the protrusion from his arm at the alien invader. Disa shoves himself off the ground, putting his arms out to their sides as he dodges the attack by moving over it. Disa spins in midair and lands on his back. Doug slides to a stop and looks back at the soldier, who has a wicked smile on his face and is holding two fingers in Doug’s direction.
“Tag… You’re it!”
His voice is smug and that is when Doug feels it, a sharp pain in his side. Even in his stone form where leaping hundreds of feet caused a mild discomfort, this hurt. Doug looks down to see Disa’ani’s spear, tip first against his side. The sensation of shattered bone and deep bruising grips Doug’s side. He grabs the spear and rips it from himself, throwing it to the ground. He turns and sprints away from his opponent. Each breath feels like a sledge hammer slamming into his ribs from within. Getting to the edge of the building, he leaps off the side and tries to make it over an alleyway but misses.
He slams into the side of the elevated building and falls three stories to the ground below. The impact doesn’t hurt nearly as much as the shock to his injury does. He gives out a primal groan of pain as he pushes off of the ground. Throbb
ing sensations course through his body. Growing up, he broke his arm and this feels easily three times worse. Gradually, he lifts his shirt as he gazes upon his grey stone skin; a crack is against his side where the impact occurred. Gradually, his body reverts back to his human form. As it does, the wound is a disgusting black and deep red bruise with the edges a sickly yellow, but his skin is not broken. Doug drops his shirt and leaves the dank alleyway, his left arm wrapped around his body, holding the sensitive injury.
He stumbles from the mouth of the alley and begins to make his way up the street. This late at night, it is littered with addicts, beggars, or gang members, none of which he would want to get involved with right now. Doug stays away from the buildings themselves and closer to the street, keeping under the lights as best as possible. He walks the few blocks back to the apartment complex. As he approaches, two police cars pull away and drive down Fourth Street. Danielle stands outside; her clothes are different. Clearly, she has raided the apartment. She watches as the police drive away as Doug gets closer to her. She turns to go back into the building; a black and white kimono cardigan is drawn tightly around her shoulders as the gentle breeze causes her hair to dance in its force. The moment her eyes meet Doug’s, they widen. He can see concern and almost fear fill them before she rushes to his side.
“Herregud!”
she shouts before looping his left arm over her neck, helping Doug stand. The help is much appreciated but the stretching of her aiding him causes pain to shoot down his side, causing him to groan in pain.
“What the hell happened to you, Doug?”
He laughs a little bit as they begin to walk towards the building.
“I almost had him; he was just a little bit faster.”
They enter the complex and make their way to the elevators. Danielle presses the button to call the box to the ground floor. Doug looks up at the floor numbers and notices that they all go the opposite direction.
“Seriously?”
he exclaims before grunting in pain.
“How badly are you hurt?”
Danielle asks. Doug watches as she slides out from under his arm and moves to his injured side. She lifts his shirt and pauses for a moment, distracted more by his physique than the injury to him.
“I think I may have a few broken ribs,”
he responds. She shakes her head and finishes lifting his shirt. Doug gets a glimpse of his side; the black part of the bruise is now dark red and most of the red has begun to turn to a sickly yellow.
“But the bruise is healing quickly,”
he adds. The elevator dings and they both walk in; Danielle drops his shirt as they do.
“Ten minutes ago, it was completely black.”
Danielle presses the button for the top floor as Doug leans against the cold metal of the elevator, closing his eyes as his side throbs in pain, but the sensation has greatly decreased in the past ten minutes.
“Your body must heal at a similar rate as Konner’s. We still need to get ice on that, but you should be right as rain in about twenty-four hours.”
Doug’s jaw almost drops. He heals quickly now? The wonders of this transformation fascinate him.
“Konner heals this quickly too?”
Danielle laughs and shakes her head.
“No, I said similar. Konner is unique. His body could heal that wound in a matter of minutes thanks to exposure of an unknown creature he fought in his teens. But before that, yes.”
Chapter: 12
An Emissary’s Point of View
Konner flies past the window, leaving Danielle and Emma alone in the apartment. Danielle takes long, purposeful strides over to the exit made by Disa’ani and peers out. People look up, some on their phones, others taking pictures. She bites her lower lip and shakes her head before turning and walking back towards the bedroom. There are a few boxes labeled “clothes,” which she tears into. Emma’s footsteps echo into the room behind her while Danielle sorts through the clothing.
“What are you doing?”
Emma’s voice has a hint of bewilderment into it. Danielle grabs a pair of jeans and checks the tag. The size fits hers perfectly. Grabbing a kimono cardigan, she stands up and begins to undress in front of Emma quickly; she only has a few minutes at the most.
“That commotion is likely to bring the police and if they come up here and see the damage, we could all be in big trouble. Especially with the girl not here…”
Danielle throws her dress clothes onto the bed and climbs into the borrowed clothes as if she were late for work. In just moments, she has donned the new clothing. The blue jeans fit perfectly; the grey shirt is a little tight across her chest, but the kimono that drapes over her shoulders makes the outfit look more deliberate.
“… so what I’m going to do is meet the police down there and try to divert them so they do not come up here.”
A look of confusion takes over Emma’s face as the sounds of sirens begin to fill the air.
“How are you going to manage that?”
she asks. Danielle grabs a pair of sandals from the box and slides them on her feet. To her surprise, they fit somewhat comfortably. She feels over her pants; the protruding rectangle of her phone is familiar to her touch and she pulls it out before tapping the application to open the internet.
“I’m not sure yet, but I have over twenty stories to figure it out. But just in case, you may want to leave the apartment in case I am not convincing.”
Danielle begins to move towards the door. She hears Emma’s shoes clicking against the wooden floor behind her.
“And where am I supposed to go?”
Danielle opens the apartment door and looks at the broken door jamb. She’ll figure something out for that.
“Go into the stairwell. There is no fire, so there won’t be a reason to search there. I’ll come and knock on the door when it is safe to come out.”
Emma nods in agreement.
“Good idea.”
Both women leave the apartment. Danielle closes the door behind them. As she turns to go to the elevators, Emma walks past them and enters a door that is marked ‘stairs.” Danielle presses the cold elevator call button, and immediately, the doors ding open. She looks down at her phone as she enters the elevator and types into the search engine “what is the largest kind of bird near me?” After a few seconds of loading, a picture of two different vultures pop-up. She clicks on either one as the elevator car continues to descend slowly down the length of the building. She compares the two and decides on the larger one for her story. She exits the elevator and walks towards the main entrance of the building, where the lobby attendant is standing, staring at the shattered glass and the cracked cement.
“Did you see that?”
he asks in bewilderment. Danielle turns to him and shakes her head.
“See what?”
she responds.
“A man fell from the building and shook it off like it was nothing!”
The lobby attendant looks over at Danielle. She can see the curiosity and concern in the man’s eyes, and she shakes her head and laughs lightly.
“That was just a coincidence; we are shooting an independent film and got our hands on some rigging. I’m sorry for any inconvenience. I will be sure to get it all cleaned up.”
She places her hand on the man’s shoulder; she can feel the latent Boronian genes within him and tells them to calm down. That moment, the man visibly relaxes.
“Alright, alright, alright, you kids just be careful now.”
She flashes him a smile as she goes to leave the building.
“We will.”
Danielle puts her hand on the cold glass of the door and gives it a push. The cooling air from the hot day blows into her face, sending some of her hair back over her shoulder. She approaches the shattered glass on the ground; people are standing all around murmuring to each other. A cop car pulls up to the complex, lights flashing, and they approach the crowd to ask what happened. In the blink of an eye, th
ey are swarmed with everyone hysterically yelling out what they had seen and one teenager showing the video on their phone. As one officer tries to maintain order and get everyone to calm down so they can hear all the witnesses’ stories, the other officer walks up to Danielle, who is looking at the shattered glass on the concrete.
“Do you live here, ma’am?”
The officer’s voice is soft, as if she is trying to convey a peaceful tone.
“I do not, officer, but I am staying with a friend.”
“Well, we got a report about a jumper from this address. People are saying that he hit the ground, got up, and ran away like nothing happened. Do you know anything about this?”
Danielle fights the urge to smirk as she crafts the cover-up in her mind before looking up to bring the officer’s gaze to the shattered glass.