It wants me to go first? Surprise rolled through her. Was it being thoughtful in letting her go first? Hardly seemed likely.
She considered a possibility that struck her with an even stronger surprise. Proof by demonstration? Was it possible the thing wanted her to demonstrate the safety of her procedure?
"Okay," she said. "Whatever you're thinking, I'll go first."
She washed and dried the wound on the top of her hand. It was deeper than she'd suspected – down to the bone but thankfully no further. She supposed she should be grateful for that. The surgical glue should work. She applied a line of it in the shallow wound and squeezed it shut in two phases, holding the skin together each time for an estimated three minutes and then applying a thin sealer layer over the wound for good measure. The resulting thin mottled-red line didn't look half-bad. She held the back of her hand up to the wolf-creature. Its orange eyes regarded it unblinkingly. After a moment, it spread its wounded right wing.
Diana slid the chair into position. She knew the antiseptic burned a bit, but the wolf gave no sign of pain as she washed in and around the edges of the wound. She applied the glue in three stages across the inner edge of the ten-inch slice through what she guessed was nearly three-quarters of an inch of dense, leathery tissue. From the front she could only close about half of the wound. The wolf showed no suspicion when she made a circular motion to it and walked around the partly extended wing to complete the repair.
It occurred to her that she might've substituted a deadly poison for the antiseptic or maybe injected one into the creature under the guise of treatment – though she couldn't think of anything off-hand in a hospital that would kill the wolf fast enough for it not to kill her – but Diana was surprised how much she recoiled at that thought of harming this magnificent, sentient creature. She hadn't even been aware she thought of him as magnificent. More importantly, she saw the possibility of making a friend, possibly even an ally. God knew she could use both right about now.
Diana finished her final squeezing of the wolf's tough, grey-black flesh, and returned to face him and inspect her handiwork. The wound was completely closed and looked good. Maybe she should've been a vet? She smiled to herself. She wondered why the wolf had been so amenable to being treated. More evidence, she thought, of it having had some form of relationship with people or something people-like.
It was the first time Diana had consciously considered that these creatures weren't from Earth. Logically, that seemed probable, if not certain. First, the landing craft had descended soundlessly, without any sign of propulsion. Second, the things that had emerged from the ship could only have come from some mad scientists' lab, employing genetic manipulation beyond anything she'd ever heard of – or the creatures were from another world.
Third, no agency or foreign government in her universe would conduct an operation like this. This was far too bizarre even for her former employer. What would be that point? Maybe some experiment involving toxins sprayed around a small town – the CIA had done that more than a few times – but followed by dropping large numbers of mutant animals? No fucking way.
Diana swallowed down a couple of amoxicillin capsules sans water. The wolf pointed to the bottle as she stuffed it back into her jeans. She shook her head and made one of his dismissive gestures.
"No," she said. "I have no idea how your immune system would react. It could be toxic for you."
The winged-wolf appeared to accept that with equanimity. Diana motioned for him to follow her out of the hospital. The aroma of rotting flesh was starting to feel like a noose around her neck.
Outside, she breathed in the relatively fresh air and faced her hirsute companion. Now what? The wolf returned her gaze as though meditating on the same question.
On an impulse, Diana pointed to herself and said, "Diana. That's my name. Di...an...a."
The wolf stared at her with his large, unblinking golden-orange eyes. She couldn't tell if he didn't understand or was considering his answer. Just when Laurie was about to assume he wouldn't respond, he parted his dark lips and issued a low growl that sounded like a small engine revving up and down ending in a vowel-like sound. Zurrzaay.
"Zurzay?"
The winged-wolf blinked at her. Was that a yes? Despite having clear negative gestures, the creature hadn't done anything that she could identify as the equivalent of a human affirmation or agreement. Maybe he was a glass-half-empty rather than a glass-half-full kind of creature?
"Well..." Diana made a helpless gesture and backed away from the creature. "I guess that's it. I need to get back to what I was doing – tracking down survivors."
The wolf stared at her.
"Goodbye, Zurzay," she said. "Good luck."
The creature didn't move as she jogged across the parking lot and street to replenish her weapons at Orchard Hardware. But when she reached the front door, the wolf was in the air, rising with a desultory flapping of its huge wings.
THE WALK home seemed anticlimactic, with Laurie seeing no further sign of the winged-wolf, dragon, or any other exotic creature. A half-mile out, she spotted a cloud of smoke rising over their property, and for a heart-constricting moment suspected the worst – but then detected the enticing odor of grilled meat. She knew what to expect before she arrived: they were cooking their thawing meat. She also knew he'd be pissed at her for taking off on her own.
When she approached the house, both predictions were quickly confirmed. They had their two gas grills and one rusty old charcoal grill going in the side-yard, her mom and dad chopping up meat while Donny ferried cooked and fresh meat to and from the chopping table.
It was nice in a guilty kind of way to see her family's faces light up with relief as she strolled up – until her dad's eyes narrowed into his most stern stare and her mom's mouth squeezed into a thin but trembling scowl. Donny was shaking his head, his knowing grin predicting a parental beat-down.
As far as her brother or parents knew, she realized, there was a power outage and something dangerous had been sprayed into the air. It was scary, but not end-of-the-world scary. Laurie, who'd been eager to share what she'd seen for most of her jog home, suddenly hated the fact that she'd have to destroy whatever positive illusions they had left.
"Thank God," her mom said, marching over to meet her with a bone-crushing hug. "We were worried sick about you."
"I'm sorry, Mom...Dad. I thought I'd be back before you even woke up."
"You went to town," her father stated. "We saw your bike was missing."
"Yes."
"Where is your bike?" Donny asked.
"Back on the road a ways. It got kind of messed up."
"That's not your rifle, is it?" Her dad's gaze focused on the AR-15.
"No. I picked it up at Orchard Hardware."
"Why?"
"Because of the creatures..." She grimaced as her family stared at her.
"What creatures?" her mom asked. "What did you see in town?"
"There were a lot of dead people – mostly in the hospital," Laurie said. "A couple girls had been eaten on the sidewalk."
"Eaten?" Dan asked.
"That's the weirdest part of it, Dad. Something landed on the beach just outside town. Some kind of ship. It looks like a big submarine. It was carrying animals – but animals not like anything we've ever seen before. A wolf that can fly. A dragon. Things that look like fairies..."
Her family was staring at her with fearful eyes. She had the feeling that their fear was not about the animals but about her state of mind.
"You're being serious?" her dad asked.
"Yes! Why would I joke about something like that?"
"Are you feeling okay?" Sonja touched her forehead. "When was the last time you drank any water?"
"Dehydration can lead to hallucinations," said Donny.
"No hallucinations," said Laurie. "I wish they were."
"You almost died, yesterday, honey," said her mom. "We all did. The strain of riding into town, of dealing with all thi
s..."
"Not hallucinating. Sorry."
"The people went to the hospital when they starting feeling sick," said her father. "That makes sense."
"But" – Sonja held her hands up to him – "flying wolves? Dragons? Fairies?"
"I know how it sounds, Mom. But I'm telling the truth."
"I know you believe it's the truth, honey."
"Okay," said her dad, drawing Laurie into his arms, unstrapping the AR from her shoulders. "Let's sit you down and get some water and food in you." He popped the rifle's clip, sniffed the ejection port. "You've fired a few rounds?"
"Yes. At the dragon."
"Donny, get your sister some water." Dan sat his daughter down at the picnic bench. "Okay, tell us everything that happened. From the beginning."
As she described the bodies on the sidewalk and inside the hospital, her dad hung his head and her mom slumped against him. "Oh, God," she whispered. They perked up a little when Laurie described entering the cylinder/ship.
"You say dirt was inside?" Sonja asked. "It sounds like some kind of cargo ship."
"I think that is exactly what it is." Laurie took a breath before adding, "And the cargo was those animals."
Her family viewed her with knotted brows.
"Could you describe them in more detail?" Dan asked.
"The wolf had large, leathery, bat-wings. About the size of a big black bear, I guess, with lots of claws and teeth. The dragon was kind of a scaled-down dragon, bigger than the wolf. It was trying to kill the wolf at one point, which is why I shot at it."
"You were trying to protect this flying wolf?" Her mom's brow grew even knottier. "Why?"
"I don't know. I guess I didn't want to see it killed, for some reason." Laurie decided to skip over the part about the dragon dropping farm equipment on her. "The fairies...they look like girls – girl-insects, more like – with transparent wings. But they have teeth and claws, so they are probably dangerous, too. And something that looked like an old woman with a sucker-shaped mouth feeding on a dead body in the hospital..." Laurie ended with a helpless shrug.
Her mom patted her shoulder. "Of course, we believe you, honey. This is all just..." She shook her head. "It must have been terrible for you. You shouldn't have been alone."
"To be clear," her father stated with a soft growl, "from now on, you are never to go anywhere without letting us know. Until we sort this out, none of us are going anywhere alone. Are we clear on that?"
Laurie lowered her head. "Yes, Dad."
"So," said her brother in a musing tone, "something knocks out our power, poisons the air, killing everyone around here – maybe everyone everywhere – and then drops a bunch of alien animals in giant cargo containers?"
"I guess so," said Laurie.
"Has to be the strangest alien invasion I ever heard."
Their father shook his head. "None of it makes a damn bit of sense."
"I know. Another thing is that some of them – the wolf and the dragon, anyway – seemed a lot more intelligent than normal animals."
"Could they be the aliens?" asked her brother. "I mean, the aliens responsible for this? Maybe they just look like animals?"
"I don't think so. They're not the ones responsible for all this, I'm sure of that. The things that did this, that were flying those ships we saw spraying stuff, are the ones who did it."
"An advanced alien civilization takes down our power grid, even our batteries, sprays something lethal in the air, and then drops animals on us..." Donny was scratching his round chin. "Logically, doesn't that imply that the first two things were preparation for the third? Like they're clearing away things that could hurt the animals?"
"Why?" Sonja asked.
"To make it safe for them?" Donny shrugged.
"I meant, why here?"
"Maybe because it's a suitable environment...except for, well...us – the people?"
"If that's true..." Dan's face seemed to absorb some of the gray color from the rising columns of smoke. "It wouldn't work if they just took down people in a small area."
"No," said Sonja. "I can't accept that. This can't be about protecting a few animals!"
"Maybe it's more than a few," said Donny.
Chapter 4
DIANA WATCHED THE SMOKE racing north over the horizon. It might be natural or human-made. Could be from a fire burning within a few miles, or it might have blown in from twenty or thirty miles away. The wind wasn't making it easy to tell.
When she considered heading for the smoke she realized how bone-tired she was. Not surprising, considering she'd been prepped for surgery and had marched miles with minimal sustenance and time for her body to recover. She was forty-one, not twenty-three. And who knew what Penny Larsen might do if Diana delayed her return too much. Not that she was feeling especially maternal to the girl, but she felt an obligation to look after her. Dick would've expected no less, under the circumstances.
But when she approached her home, Diana saw there would be no rest for the weary. What was unfolding on the multi-angled roof of her house and the surrounding trees appeared to be a frenzied game of tag, with a dozen fairy-creature pursuers and one desperate Penny Larsen tagged as "you're it."
Diana had no idea how long this deadly game had been going on, but to this point three of the "fairies" were out of commission – two lying on the metal roof, one crumpled on the ground – and as Diana watched, Penny demonstrated how that had likely happened: dodging one fairy's lunge, she darted under its clawing hands and delivered a resounding punch to the creature's abdomen. The fairy flopped face-first on the roof and lay still. Diana would've thought that some hint of Penny's lethality would've sunk in for the creatures, but they appeared entranced by the dancing girl as a trout might be by a jiggling lure – so close, so within reach, just one clawed grasp away and they would have a feast just like the two girls on the sidewalk in town.
Only when Diana had moved within seventy yards of the house – close enough for her less than marksman skills to have a reasonable chance against the swift-moving, fluttering fairies – did she spot the group of baboon-creatures slouching in the shadows of the ash trees on the south end of her yard, bouncing and slapping their palms on the grass as if applauding the spectacle and possibly urging the fairies on. Or perhaps letting the winged creatures do the hard work of bringing down the speedy human.
The baboons spotted her at about the same time, and withdrew into the trees. Diana kneeled, bracing her elbow on one knee, and sought out one of the elves furthest from the girl. Crack! A fairy fell. Crack! One came up limping – and then crumbled from a follow-up shot.
Now the elves spotted her and were buzzing off her roof into the cover of the surrounding trees. She and Dean had actually once discussed clearing away some of the trees around the house to reduce cover for would-be spies or snipers, but had eventually laughed off the absurdity of that. Now, hearing the elfin creatures whizzing by through the woods on either side of her, she wished they'd reconsidered.
Diana didn't see the fairy-creature until it was almost on her. She swung the butt of her rifle at its head, but the thing closed too fast, its jaws clamping onto her left shoulder while its erect stinger penetrated her hip with a brief white-hot pain that melted instantly into numbness. The fairy dug its claws into her sides, thrusting against her – pumping more poison into me? Diana dropped her rifle and punched the creature in the face – a short blow that didn't have a lot on it, but it made the creature pause long enough for her to draw her Glock and shove it into the fairy's gaping mouth before pulling the trigger.
The creature dropped from her, but another fairy latched onto her from behind, delivering another molten injection into her lower back while teeth sank into the back of her neck. She twisted her right arm behind her back and jammed her pistol into her attacker's side before pulling the trigger. The creature released its hold and staggered away. Diana's legs gave out, dumping her on her side.
A pair of baboon-creatures loomed above her. She
raised her pistol with a shaky hand. A sharp kick sent the Glock flying and made her left hand and arm numb down to the elbow. She was startled by a small blond figure darting in to snatch up the pistol. Penny? It didn't quite register until the girl opened fire. One baboon dropped to its knees while the other swooped in with a looping kick that the girl dodged. More shots and her second attacker collapsed. Sadly, another simian-creature struck from behind, planting her face-down in the grass with one large foot on her back.
As the fairy stinger-induced numbness spread on a warm tide up her back, Diana resigned herself to her bizarre fate. Killed by alien animals of unknown origin. Not an epitaph she could ever have dreamed up in a billion years.
A shadow blocked the sun. A sound like a sail snapping in the wind. She craned her head to look up. The baboon-creatures paused to look up as well. Diana saw fear fly across their faces.
She blinked once – and the wolf-creature, Zurzay, was in their midst, wings whirling, like a matador swirling his cape. But this matador's cape had dozens of razor-sharp claws which severed reaching arms and ripped open the chests and stomachs of the baboon-creatures charging in. One simian that made it through was met by a talon-spiked hand around its throat. While the baboon squirmed in Zurzay's grip, the winged wolf inserted its free hand into the creature's chest and ripped downward, opening his hapless opponent from sternum to groin before flinging its writhing body after the retreating circle of baboons.
Penny surprised Diana again by pushing to her knees and scooping up the Glock to aim at the wolf.
"No!" Diana's cry was little more than a ragged whisper, but it made the girl pause. "On our side!"
Penny lowered the pistol, her scowl still suspicious. "How do you know it?"
"Long story."
Then the numbness that had been spreading through Diana's body arrived at her head and carried her off into warm darkness.
ZooFall Page 7