Kill the Wild

by S T Branton

"Because he's a rodent?" she asked.

  "Not a good enough reason for me. Splinter and I go way back. I'll share food with him any time." I reached to scratch his head, and he nuzzled me happily.

  "Brought your clothes." She held up the black duffel bag she brought with her every day.

  It was her concession to my choice of living arrangements. She agreed I could stay in the hotel as long as I didn't smell like the hotel. I thought that was fair. The lingering damp odor was less noticeable after spending hours in the room, but it stood out when it hung out in my clothing fibers.

  After accepting the bag from her, I swapped the clothes inside for the ones I was wearing, then tucked the dirty clothes into the pack so Ally could wash them. It was like a strange drug exchange.

  "So, what's the play? What's on tap for today?"

  I stared at her questioningly. "How do you possibly take the time for this? For me?"

  My best friend laughed. "This is my job. I'm researching, getting ready for the big scoop."

  "What big scoop?" I perched on the edge of the dresser to tie my boots.

  Splinter noticed me getting ready and rushed back to the bag, stuffing his cheeks full of doodles for the road.

  "The online news site I work for has a little clout. They're throwing me a few dollars to investigate. Plenty of folks are on total bullshit assignments, and I convinced the editor that this is worth the wondrously low pay I've been getting," Ally told me.

  I looked back at her in confusion. We’d had this discussion several times already, but the economics of it still seemed weird. "I still don’t really understand.”

  "I told you. I work for an online news site," Ally told me. "It's one of the more high-end ones, which is why I finagled getting paid to traipse around with my best friend going after the bad guys under the guise of writing a story. In fact, I might actually write the story. With your identity properly protected, of course."

  "High-end news site? Like MySpace?"

  Ally laughed and shook her head. "Everything's changed, Slick. MySpace isn't really a thing anymore. Well, it is, but not like you remember. Now, it's mostly a bunch of shitty amateur bands trying to make themselves seem legit."

  I stared at her while blinking a few times. "No more MySpace? But mine was so carefully cultivated."

  "I know. Your intro music game was on point," Ally confirmed. "Things have moved on."

  "But what about my Top Eight?" I felt surprisingly emotional about mourning the end of my high school social media attachments.

  "It might still exist in cyberspace somewhere, but you should let it go. I'll teach you all about the new stuff," Ally promised.

  "You'll always be Top Eight in my heart," I told her.

  She laughed and opened her arms to hug me. "You too, Slick."

  "All right, so you work for an online news site, and they're paying you to investigate what's going on," I recapped.

  "Right. Which means I basically have all the time in the world for this. Everything we do falls under the umbrella of research. I'm getting paid to run around with you, and there's nothing they can do about it because they authorized a story on potential supernatural links to the kidnappings. They can't argue with me pursuing the supernatural angle."

  "No, they can't. Do you make enough money doing that?"

  "Enough. Not a lot. I wouldn't say they pay me well or anything, but it's enough if I live cheaply. That's not too difficult since it's only me."

  "Silver linings."

  "So, I came here to ask you what your plan is for the day."

  "I know. You already did. But I don't really have one. I mean, it's the same basic plan we always have. Figure out how to take Hobbes down. That's kind of my overarching theme at this particular juncture in my life."

  "It's your brand."

  "I don't know what that means."

  "Never mind. But you don't have any particular direction for today?"

  "No."

  "Good. Because all my discretionary time has revealed a lead for us. Something that might have something to do with The Far."

  She sounded delighted, but I was cautious. "What do you mean?"

  Ally perched on the dresser and settled into place. She had yet to sit on any of the soft surfaces of the room. That day might come. I doubted it, but it might.

  “I did some research and found out there’s a shipping company on the north side of town that's cooking their books."

  “And how did you find that out?” It never ceased to amaze me how she stumbled on her leads.

  “Combination of websites, but mostly Reddit.” I opened my mouth, but before I could ask, she shoved one finger in the air and shook her head. “It will be a part of your contemporary internet survival skills seminar.”

  "Okay. What does that mean for us?"

  "It's unclear what they're shipping. The contents of their crates are...ambiguous."

  "How ambiguous?"

  "Enough to raise red flags."

  I drew in a breath as the realization settled over me.

  "Farside artifacts."

  She nodded. "Maybe. It's not like we haven't seen that before."

  My thoughts went back to the warehouse the day we met Archie. The Harbingers there were shipping artifacts. It was possible they were doing the same thing here. I stood and scooped Splinter into my hand.

  "It's worth a look. Let's go."

  Chapter Seven

  “Where the hell did you go?” Ally asked as I climbed over the top of the ladder and back onto the rooftop. Since I was carrying a drink carrier, three bags, two apples, and a giant-sized bag of potato chips, I wasn’t pleased with her attitude. But I let it pass. Ally got hangry often.

  “I got you burgers.” I waved the bag and walked toward her.

  “Well, okay. No pickles, right?” she asked.

  “I thought you liked pickles?”

  “I do. I love them. But I’m trying a new non-green diet. Latest trend.”

  “But burgers are fine?” I was perplexed.

  “Mmm-hmm,” she agreed through a mouth full of hamburger, followed quickly by three fries at a time and a gulp of her soda.

  “I think you missed something somewhere in that diet.” I sat on the blanket we’d laid out for ourselves.

  “What did you get?” Ally was now stuffing fries into her face by the fist-load.

  “Tacos,” we said in unison.

  “Yup.” I pulled out several of the silver foil-wrapped joyous meals of the gods.

  We sat in silence for a few minutes, quietly munching away on what was our second meal of the day up here. Thus far, it had been boring as hell. Stakeouts weren’t nearly as sexy as they seemed in the movies, although the fast food wrappers usually seen in the cop car were accurate, at least. Our now increasing pile of trash, currently being dug through by Splinter, sat on the edge of our blanket.

  We had laid out the blanket near the edge of the roof, covering the hard concrete with the thinnest layer of soft cotton to save our knees a little. Our vantage point atop a nearby empty office building in the industrial area gave us a direct line of sight down to the warehouse. The cars came in from one direction and headed out another, but both went right by our building, and it gave us a good chance to see inside each one.

  At first, it was almost like a picnic. We brought up drinks and sandwiches and mostly chatted while we kept a loose eye on the building across from us. The warehouse was a hive of activity, but it all seemed quite normal for a warehouse in this part of town. None of the packages seen going in or out looked suspicious, and I relegated myself to waiting around until dark.

  That was when the shenanigans, if any, were likely to begin. Ally brought breakfast, so I volunteered to get the early dinner. After skipping lunch, and with Ally’s infamous grumpiness if she had to sit still too long and also had to skip meals, I was more than willing to stretch my legs and make my way to the burger shack and the taco stand a few streets over. The likelihood I would miss anything was low, and
besides, I wanted to get to that taco truck myself.

  “So, how many trucks have you seen since I left?” I asked.

  “I lost count.” Ally suppressed a burp. She smiled sheepishly in the way she always had, although between us girls, I could out-burp any man walking on God’s green Earth and she knew it. “Like, twenty, I’d say, but it’s been regular. Every couple of minutes a crew goes out, checks the load, signs a paper, hands it to the driver, and off they go. Nothing abnormal.”

  That’s what worried me. Something wasn’t right about this place, but nothing seemed odd when it was examined. My watch said it was almost five, which meant they should be gearing up for a shift change soon. Maybe that would liven things up.

  As dark fell, Ally got restless and started pacing on the roof. When the streetlights came on and the sun set over the horizon, I checked my watch again. Nine-thirty. If the night shift was up to something, they’d be doing it soon. This was getting dumb.

  Finally, as my watch hit eleven-fifteen, a truck pulled up to the warehouse. It had been mostly silent since about six, with workers leaving and a bunch of vehicles arriving to be loaded but none leaving or arriving since around seven. The streetlights burned a bright yellow, but the light was dim by the time it reached the ground and it was difficult to see much of anything. But what I saw got me excited. The driver of the new truck was a Farsider.

  He wore a disguise, but it was easy to tell he wasn’t human, at least for me. A weird shuffle to his step indicated he either suffered from a terrible knee injury or hid a tail or something in his pants leg. Since he kept licking his lips with a tongue that would impress Gene Simmons, I was betting on the latter. I kicked Ally’s shoes, but she didn’t move. I tried again and got a grunt. She had fallen asleep again, the second time tonight. I kicked her shoe one last time.

  “What, what?” She sat up and rubbed her eyes.

  “Wake up, sleepybones. We got ourselves a Farsider. I need you to keep a lookout and wait here while I scope it out.”

  “Fine.” She yawned and sipped her undoubtedly hot and stale soda. She grimaced and sat up fully, then placed her elbows on the roof of the building and looked down at the warehouse. “I can barely see anything,” she said to my back as I walked to the ladder.

  “Good.” I hopped on. “Maybe they won’t see me, either.”

  I looked down at the locket out of habit again, ensuring that it was fully charged. If I got my ass kicked by whatever was in that warehouse, the rune inside the locket would refill my energy and then some. I would be incredibly powerful for a short burst, but then it would zap out of me. It had come in handy before, and I needed to make sure I could use it again any time I did something where I might be outnumbered.

  I slid down the rungs and onto the street and took off for the warehouse. It was surprising how dark it seemed despite the light of the streetlamps. As I stood in the shadows, I felt like I might be invisible in the darkness. I found my way to the back of the building and spotted where a door stood cracked open. While sneaking my way closer, I noticed that it seemed empty and there were no lights on. I slid my way inside and crept behind some boxes until I felt like I was about halfway into the spacious room.

  Suddenly, there was light everywhere. I spun around to gain my bearings and noticed that I was in a large room, surrounded by crates, and much to my dismay, about a dozen Philosophers. They made their way toward me in the ‘sort of hurrying, but too cool to run’ way that Guild Agents tended to use when they felt like they had you trapped. Which, currently, they did.

  Shit.

  Bentham and Thrash came from behind them. Thrash held Ally, one hand over her mouth, and Bentham looked like she had stepped in the world’s largest turd. Ally looked like she might be in pain, and I stepped toward her.

  Bentham held up her hand to stop me. “No, Slick. Not one more step.”

  “Let her go.” My eyes bored holes into Thrash.

  “You’re becoming predictable, Slick,” Bentham continued, undeterred. “I barely put any thought into this little ruse, and yet, here you are. We waited for you to come down and into the warehouse for hours. For a moment, I thought you had us figured out. It’s almost a shame you didn’t. I thought higher of your intelligence, and Thrash was itching for a chase. I simply wanted you contained in the warehouse so you couldn’t cause us more trouble.”

  “It’s not as much fun when you don’t know we’re coming.” Thrash snickered. “I like it when I can smell fear.”

  “No one else likes that they can smell you,” I retorted. Thrash bared his teeth and seemed to shift Ally around, causing her to moan in pain. I winced.

  “Your sarcasm isn’t doing your friend any favors, Slick.”

  I shifted my focus to Bentham. “Let her go, and I won’t have to use this.” I touched the locket and held it in front of me. Bentham scoffed and looked at Thrash, who shook his head.

  “I’m not scared by a silly compass. You might have tricked me last time, Slick, but this time, I got you.”

  This was going to suck. I had no choice, though. Bentham brought this on herself. The locket was fully charged, but I was way outnumbered. This locket had slowly given me extra strength for years, but I needed more. It was literally the only shot I had at taking them all down, at least for long enough to escape, but I had to destroy it to use all the energy it held, rendering it useless afterward.

  The thought of using all the power Solon gave me and relinquishing the locket I’d worn around my neck for so long gave me pause, but I had to push through. There was no other way. This is what he would have wanted.

  “You seem to like me being predictable so you can do your job, isn’t that right?” Bentham nodded and opened her mouth to say something, but I interrupted her. “You’ll hate this, then.”

  I crushed the locket in my hand and destroyed the rune inside. My eyes welled with tears as power immediately surged into my palm, through my wrist, and into my veins. It pulsed through my body, filling me with an incredible sense of dominion over everything in my sight. Thoughts of Solon filled my mind, and I felt like I could do anything and bend reality to what I wanted it to be. And right now, I wanted to kick some ass.

  Bentham’s eyes grew wide as she backed up a step. Thrash’s jaw went slack, and Ally tried to scream. Pure energy in light form shot from my body in all directions, and I went stiff with it. It poured out of my eyes and mouth and fingers. Anything in its way got zapped, flying backward and away from the light. It stopped bursting from me as suddenly as it came and instead hovered around the edge of me like a yellow aura that sizzled and cracked.

  Philosophers came at me, but it was like fighting people who were underwater. I moved faster, hit harder, and took almost no damage. Time was slow but increasing in speed, getting me back to real-time. I knew it was only my perception of it while my body moved much faster than it should, but it felt like I moved normally and everyone else had hit the slo-mo button.

  When I had incapacitated everyone else, I turned to Thrash. He tossed Ally to the floor and charged at me. His huge fist flew toward me but time still hadn’t returned to full speed yet, so I ducked it easily, then jumped into an uppercut that sent him across the room like a cartoon. He crashed into several boxes and laid there unconscious. Bentham charged then. I ducked her, flipped her over my back, then kicked her in the middle of hers. She stumbled to the floor and turned, but met my knee in her jaw. She was out, and time had returned to normal speed.

  I was slowing and knew that soon I would be exhausted. We needed to get out of here as fast as possible. I grabbed Ally and took off for the door, but I stole one look back as we crossed the threshold. Pieces of the rune that had been in the locket were strewn all over the floor. I’d shoved the rest of it in my pocket as I fought, but seeing those pieces there made me want to run back and get them. To gather up every speck of the rune Solon had given me. But I couldn’t. I had to get myself and Ally to safety. I turned my head and looked out over the street. We were a
lone.

  Good. Time to move.

  Chapter Eight

  Archie wasn't having any deep and meaningful conversations with the furniture in his lab when I got Ally back to it. That was a good thing. I wasn’t in the mood to deal with any other elements of his lab exploding. I'd had my fill of nonsense and was seething when I got her down the stairs and to the cot set up against the wall.

  That little bed had seen a lot in the last couple of months. Any time any of us sustained injuries while out pursuing Hobbes and the Harbingers, this was where we ended up. Fortunately, most of those injuries were minor and required only a little patching up to manage.

  That was the case now. It was Ally's turn to stretch out across the cot and let us check her over for damage. She was a little beat up, nothing too severe, but that didn't temper how I felt. I was pissed. It infuriated me to see her hurt because she was doing everything she could to help me. Being in that position at all only made it worse. It shouldn't have unfolded like that. We should have been able to go to the warehouse and find out more about it without an ambush.

  Bentham was too good. She knew too much and was nipping right at our heels.

  “I’m sorry, Slick,” Ally said. “Two traps in two days. I guess I’m not very good as a researcher.”

  “Shut up.” I laughed. “Without your help, I have nothing. Except maybe dancing around in the middle of downtown, hoping Hobbes shows up to fight before the Philosophers Guild gets me. We’re all learning on the go here.”

  “Yeah, but you’re the one always paying for it.”

  “You don’t get to say that while you’re bleeding.”

  "It's fine. Only a few bumps and scratches. Nothing like the stuff you've been through. I'll be fine. I have to pick up some of your street cred at some point, don't I?"

  She was teasing and laughing to make me feel better, but it wasn't working. I finished cleaning another scrape across her arm and smoothed an adhesive gauze pad over it.

  "It's not fine. Maybe I’m too reckless."