Zurzay had needs, too, stopping to hunt or drink every few hours. Sometimes, he'd spot an appetizing victim and descend for an opportunistic kill. It was obvious, Diana thought, that this forest and lake-rich area, bereft of human civilization, would be the land of milk and honey for even someone as large and protein-needy as Zurzay. Of course, any solo predator, no matter how skilled, was one injury away from starvation. But the winged-wolf had a pretty unique skill set: the ability to fly combined with the power and agility to kill both small and large animals. Diana observed more than once how large Earth animals, whether they were deer, elk, or domesticated cows, horses, or sheep, were utterly clueless about threats from the air. Wolves or a mountain lion would send any of those animals stampeding in a panic, but a big shadow overhead didn't even make them look up. The large animals had not evolved to be afraid of aerial attack. It was like shooting game in a fish bowl for the incomparable killing machine that was her ride.
Sadly, Diana thought, native animals were the least of their concerns. From the air, still heading southeast, she spotted three non-indigenous animal species. The first was the bear-wolf-like creatures she'd seen pacing Penny the day before now locked in a full-on battle with one or two packs of real wolves. None of the combatants paid any attention to Penny as she paused in the trees to observe them. Seeing them mixing it up with the alien zoo wolves showed vividly – and bloodily – just how much larger and more powerful the visitors were. A mere six of them were smacking down fifteen to twenty wolves like Rottweilers taking down Chihuahuas. More disturbing was how the visiting wolf-creatures – already fifty percent larger, at a minimum – ganged up on individual wolves in rapid succession in what looked to Diana like well-rehearsed martial maneuvers. They highlighted another of Zurzay's advantages – perhaps his greatest advantage: superior intelligence. Survival of the fittest was not going to prove kind to the local fauna, Diana predicted. Not with giant, intelligent bear-wolves, dragons, and flying wolves in the mix.
Later, Diana discovered that even Zurzay deferred to some of the zoo creatures. When a flock of black flying things that Diana couldn't quite make out approached from the north, Zurzay hastily descended into the woods while Diana called to Penny, and they all took up residence under a large ash until the creatures passed over. Diana had the impression of flying manta rays – triangular wings and something that resembled tails. She wished she had a rifle scope or binoculars – and silently made a note to acquire them at the earliest opportunity.
Diana wasn't sure if Zurzay was tiring or pacing himself, but they were covering a lot less ground the second day. More rest stops, more hunts, less eagerness to get back in the air. Penny even started complaining about their slow pace.
Diana wasn't complaining. Her body was already a mess of bruises from bouncing around on his back. His fur might've been soft but his muscles and bones were hard.
They spotted a second cylinder in a broad meadow in the waning hours of the day. Zurzay set them down in a giant oak at one edge of the meadow which extended to a patch of forest a mile or two away. She had the impression it was a fair amount larger than the one on her town's beach, judging by its three openings that appeared similar in size to a single entrance in her town's alien ship.
Penny scampered up like a squirrel to join them in the tree. "Is that an alien ship?"
"Yes." Diana had forgotten the girl had never seen the one on the Lake Winneska beach. "Though this one's bigger than the one in Glenwald."
"I wonder what freak animals came in this one."
"Something tells me we'll probably meet up with them at some point – "
Diana stopped herself as several Nazrene clambered out of one entrance bearing large boxes. Had some of them come from this landing craft or had they just encountered it? What was in the boxes?
Diana placed her rifle's sights on one of them. Several hundred yards away, Diana knew she had next to zero chance of hitting any of them. Even with a scope, that would be a mighty challenge for her. The best she could hope for was maybe hitting one of them and sending the others scattering, losing the element of surprise and perhaps placing the Jensens' lives and their own at risk. As it was, unpacking supplies from the ship/escape pod made her think they had set up a camp in the area.
"Are the Jensens down there, Zurzay?" she asked. The wolf turned its head to regard her questioningly with his orange-gold eyes. "Laurie. Sonja. Donny." She pointed to the woods beyond the meadow. "Down there?"
Zurzay made a wavy, uncertain motion with one hand. An eerily human gesture, Diana thought.
"I'll bet they are," said Penny. "They're the pack we've been following, even if there are some new ones."
"I was thinking the same thing."
"So what do we do now? Go back and tell Mr. Jensen?"
The girl's tone suggested some skepticism on that point. When Diana didn't reply right away, Penny added: "But by the time we get back there, the apes could be gone. Mr. Jensen couldn't travel nearly as fast as we have, especially with his broken arm."
"Do you have an alternative suggestion?"
"I was thinking maybe we could sneak up on them at night and free them."
Diana let out a weary breath. Of course, Supergirl would be thinking something like that. "I don't see how that could possibly work, Penny."
"Then what would?"
"We need more people."
"We have some extra guns. You have one in your pack, plus our two pistols. That would make five of us – plus Zurzay!"
Diana released a soft snort and gave the girl a weak smile. "You've been thinking about this, haven't you?"
"What else do I have to do while running all day?" The girl grinned at her.
"Well, we don't know what state Laurie, Donny, and their mother are in. It can't be easy on them traveling at this pace. I don't even know how they're doing it. The baboons must be carrying them."
"But if they were in okay shape?"
"The logistics of getting our extra weapons to them or even sneaking up on those things..." Diana shook her head. "And, bottom line, there's still thirty of them. We just don't have the numbers."
"Then how are we ever going to rescue them? Even with Dan and Myth, we wouldn't have the numbers, right?"
Diana allowed herself an inner sigh. The girl had a point. Unless they chanced upon more survivors who were willing to sign on to their cause, a "coalition of the willing," their odds of rescuing the Jensens sucked.
For not the first time, Diana questioned her role and her motivations in this dubious mission. The Nazrene was their mutual enemy, true, but was saving the Jensens her fight? Did risking her life for them make sense? She knew that if she bowed out, that would pretty much guarantee Dan and his alien cohort's failure in any rescue attempt and likely Dan's death since he was the kind of man who would never give up as long as he breathed. And it did make sense for their tiny band of local survivors to stick together. But how much sense did it make for a winged-wolf and a superhuman pre-pubescent girl to put their lives on the line?
"I don't know," she said. "My only thought was to track them down. I haven't planned anything beyond that."
Penny fell into a pensive silence. Diana turned from her, satisfied with simply breathing and letting her thoughts drift in the moment as she watched the Nazrene carry boxes from the landing craft.
"I could run back and tell Dan and Myth," Penny said. "And guide them back here."
Diana sat up a little straighter to frown at her.
"You and Zurzay are getting tired," the girl said reasonably. "You must've stopped to rest ten times today. You'll be even more tired going all the way back and then returning here."
Diana offered her a reluctant nod. "That's true."
As much as Diana cherished the idea of turning back and putting distance between her and the accursed baboons, she knew the girl was right about their fatigue. In fact, she didn't know the half of it. Diana thought that if she closed her eyes now she might sleep a week. How would she
handle flying both ways? How would Zurzay handle it? It had to be exhausting carting her extra weight around all day. And once she got back to her home could she even make herself do this again?
"You're okay with running back by yourself?" Diana asked. "You know how dangerous it is out here, even for you."
"I already have been running by myself, really, and so far nothing's attacked me. And if something does..." She tapped her rifle and pistol. "And I can travel faster without waiting for you guys. No offense."
Diana nodded reluctantly again. She couldn't see any good solutions – no strategy that didn't involve grave risk and dubious elements, given that they were going to persist in attempting to rescue the Jensens.
"All right," she said. "If you feel okay about doing this, it's probably not the worst option. We'll stick around here, keep an eye on the Nazrene camp as much as possible. Hopefully catch our breaths a bit."
"Okay," said Penny, a note of sadness in her voice. "Guess I'll go, then."
She rose, probably planning to simply drop to the ground. Diana reached out and touched her shoulder. The girl gave her such a hopeful, longing, heart-melting look. What sociopath could give someone a look like that?
"I want to thank you," said Diana. "Thank you for saving my life and for sticking with me."
Penny lowered her head for a long moment. "You're welcome," she said in a small voice. "Goodbye, Diana. Please don't die."
"I'll try my best not to. Good luck."
"Yeah. You, too."
The girl took a casual hop off the limb and dropped. Diana's heart lurched – and then the girl had landed twenty feet below, not even losing her balance, and gave her a brief wave before bouncing off into the woods. Don't worry about her, Diana told herself. Worry about yourself.
Zurzay joined her in watching the girl jog away before focusing on Diana with his unreadable gaze.
"It's just you and me for now, Zurzay," she said.
The wolf rumbled something that sounded like "Iaannnaa." So he knows my name.
She settled back against the trunk of the tree. Man, this was going to be a long night.
DAN WOKE to an insect's buzz. He raised a hand, expecting a hornet or horsefly – too loud for a mere mosquito – but saw nothing flying near him or the chair. Then he glanced from where he was draped out on the living room couch to the nearest window.
A fairy-creature had its face pressed against the glass. Oh, shit. He searched the room for the nearest weapon. His pistol hung in a belt draped over the club chair he'd spent most of the day in yesterday.
Yesterday. He blinked hard and took in a sharp breath, trying to jumpstart his brain and body. A lightning bolt of pain crackled up from his forearm and thundered in his head while his right knee performed a smaller fireworks display. He bit off a groan, sliding the Glock out of its holster and focusing on staying steady on his feet. None of the house doors were open, he was sure of that. How about a window? Could they open a door? And was Myth still flopped out on the recliner?
He'd nodded off on the couch after forcing down some water and canned chicken soup, along with more antibiotics and codeine. His stomach had knotted up to the point where he'd nearly lost everything, but the hardest thing to digest by far was that he was lounging around here while his wife, daughter, and son were being dragged off to who the hell knew where. And not a damn thing he could do about it, except lie here nursing his wounds and wait for Diana to report back.
Tip-tap. Dan glanced up. Tip-tip-tap-tap. It was like heavy rain slapping the roof. Jesus, the damn things are on the roof. They often kept their second story windows open in summer. It was summer now, wasn't it? The first of June? He wasn't sure. He also wasn't sure what time it was. Felt like morning, but without electric clocks, computers, and cell phones...well, he hadn't quite learned to read the sun that precisely yet.
A noise like something slapping the floor filtered down from the second floor. He had an image of a window screen hitting the hardwood floor, maybe in Donny or Laurie's bedroom. A clattering on the ceiling directly over his head and a symphony of hornet-buzzing confirmed that the house had been breached. He looked around the room, locating his M&P and pistol belt in a far corner.
Dan crawled off the couch and hobbled over to it, strapping on his weapon belt and holstering his pistol. He switched out the used rifle and handgun clips with fresh clips from the belt. Man, it was about to get loud in here again. He should've sprung for those tactical, battery-operated earplugs. But this was small-town America. When the hell would he ever need to go tactical – ever need anything besides his standard earplugs? Funny that he was worried about hearing loss when things were now in his house that would try to eat him.
Dan entered the living room. Myth was stirring in the chair. Or he assumed it was Myth because she now looked like Marjorie with broader shoulders and more masculine features. Dan thought he recognized a little of the crazed sociology professor from Minden in her face. Myth's eyes opened and she blinked up at him.
"What...?"
"We have company," Dan said, moving to the base of the stairs. "If you can rouse yourself, now would be a good time."
Some buzzing and light rapping on the hallway floor signaled their exit from the bedrooms. Here we go. Dan raised the rifle to his shoulder, his left forearm throbbing. It could've been worse. The Nazrene could've broken his shoulder instead of his forearm, or his right arm instead of his left. And the fairies could've attacked quietly instead of so thoughtfully giving him a heads-up. Not the brightest bulbs in the zoo creature patch, he guessed.
The first fairy appeared at the top of the stairs. Boom! The fairy fell forward, caught in the chest in mid-jump. Dan fell back as the others sprang into the air and buzzed toward him. Dan fired as fast as he could pull the trigger. At least some of his rounds were blowing through the lead fairies and impacting the ones behind them.
Six or seven dropped, but one made it through, latching onto his chest. Dan dropped his rifle in order to interpose his right forearm between his throat and the creature's snapping fangs – but there was no protection from its erect stinger, which plunged into his abdomen. A fiery sensation in his belly turned in seconds into a dead, Novocain-numbness. His legs gave out and he flopped on his back. He wanted to reach for his Glock, but the creature had his right forearm locked in its jaws. The thing actually seemed to be grinning at him. His entire life resolved into a singular desire to wipe that grin from its sharply featured face.
Dan started to squeeze his left forearm past the fairy's clinging body, but the makeshift cast made it doubly difficult to push through, though he was no longer feeling any pain. In fact, he wasn't feeling much of anything. Not even anger or sadness. He gazed into the creature's red and black insect's eyes and felt calm acceptance.
The fairy's head blew apart. Dan blinked as blood and flesh splattered into his eyes. The roar of the pistol in Myth's hand registered an instant later, a booming afterthought. The fairy was dragged off him, and Myth was bending close with her new Adderall boy-Marjorie Wilson face and grey-green eyes full of concern.
Then her/his face slipped away into the now-familiar darkening mist.
DIANA'S BLADDER was a fiery time bomb counting down to its last seconds before detonation. She'd spent the night in the tree within a giant nest Zurzay had weaved together earlier in the day, alternating between restless sleep and unpleasant wakefulness. As morning approached, her dreams devolved into seeking out restrooms that were always occupied or consisted of open stalls in the middle of a busy plaza.
Diana woke up knowing she would never make it down the tree in time. She crawled to the edge of the "nest" – an intricate mesh of small and large limbs Zurzay had tied together and covered with several layers of leaves – and tugging down her jeans christened the branches below with an early morning golden shower. She was grateful Zurzay had flown off somewhere, probably hunting. It was strange how she'd started thinking of him more and more as a fellow person, and was feeling the self-con
sciousness about her personal hygiene that went along with that.
A wooden spear flashed by, striking an overhead limb before bouncing into the nest. For one stunned moment, Diana imagined the tree had taken exception to her outpouring – before a much more frightening truth dawned.
She rolled back into the nest, yanking up her pants as another spear smacked into the trunk near where her exposed butt had just been. Diana scooped up her rifle and peered over the edge of the nest. Dark simian shapes moved in the foliage and behind the trees below. Of course. Either they spotted her from the meadow or during a morning hunt.
One stepped into view to unleash a spear. Diana popped him in the chest and the spear slipped from his fingers as he fell back. Angry grunts and growls that sounded a bit like words and phrases bounced back and forth in the brush. Diana's rifle tracked the sounds and glimpses of furry bodies, but they weren't making themselves easy targets. She shifted around to view the meadow. Nazrene were pouring out of the woods on the far side of the clearing, racing toward her. Shit. She swung her M&P around and took aim, but the creatures were nowhere near being in range. Worse, they veered to her left, on course for the woods a half-mile south of her. So they knew where she was and roughly how far to stay away. Great.
Meanwhile, things were heating up below. Literally – as one baboon-creature scuttled to the base of her tree with what looked like a flame in his hand, leaping back before Diana could sight in on him. The flame flared up briefly before fizzling out. Ha. If they thought they could burn down a tree with a match or whatever they would be sadly disappointed.
The small satisfaction she took from that vanished when the creatures began lobbing large rocks and heavy chunks of wood at her. It didn't require magic glasses to read the writing on the wall. They'd surround the tree and drive her out one way or the other. Her weapons would only delay the inevitable.
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