torg 01 - Storm Knights (5 page)

"It's almost over Mara," Alec told her excitedly as he burst into the lab. "We destroyed the last bridge. All that's left now is for us to erase the remaining Sims and ."

Mara spun away from her computer screen, turning to face Dr. Kendal. "It might be over here, Alec, but there's something worse booting up. I've found another cosm. And, triple damn, the Sims have found it too."

It did not matter that it was happening an entire universe away. Distance did not diminish the pain she felt with each new death. For, like on Kadandra before it, this impending destruction was her fault.

Tears flowed from Mara's one natural eye, and she wiped them away. But she couldn't wipe away the memories. They continued to flow, along with Mara's tears.

Alder watched the strange procession pass by his hiding spot. He was holed up in a Radio Shack on Third and 58th, trying to work his way over to the West Side. He didn't get far, however, when he had to seek refuge. Now there was a parade of large dinosaurs shambling toward Central Park. Piled high on the back of each giant lizard were bodies. Human bodies. Victims of the lizard men's slaughter.

A crash sounded from further back in the store. Alder pulled his nightstick from its belt loop and moved away from the door. It was dark in the store, the only light was the rainy gray illumination coming through the display window. The officer slipped his flashlight into his other hand and snapped it on. Its strong beam showed him stacks of stereos and televisions, boxes of radio-controlled cars, and racks of cables, wires, and other electronic do-it-yourself paraphernalia. A pile of calculators had fallen across the service counter. Alder slowly swept the area with his light, stopping when glowing eyes met his.

They belonged to a small gray cat with a red collar. It gave Alder a look that said "feed me or take a hike." The officer smiled, relaxing his bunched muscles.

That was when something large smashed into him. Alder went flying into a computer display. His flashlight and nightstick sailed away from him. As the flashlight spun across the floor, it threw odd shadows. Alder saw three forms advancing on him, first as shadows against the window, then as humans in tattered rags when the light spun its beam their way.

There were two men and a woman, and each appeared more brutal than the one before. The larger of the men stepped closer, revealing Cro-Magnon features as the light beam spun around again.

"Cop," the large brute grunted.

"Fun," the woman laughed, flashing crooked, sharp teeth.

Alder decided not to attempt conversation with the group. Instead, he drove his foot into the brute's mid section, then rolled behind a pile of clock radios and quickly got to his feet. The smaller man and the woman approached cautiously, acutely aware of their moaning companion lying on the store floor.

The woman held her hands like claws, again showing her teeth. She laughed, but there was no humor in the sound. Instead, Alder heard the sound of primitive passion, and it reminded him of the scene by the bridge the night before.

"What happened to you?" he asked, trying to make sense of the situation.

"Lanala," the woman laughed, "Baruk Kaah!"

Then the small man leaped, hurdling a display as he reached for Alder's neck. He never made it. A massive scaled arm caught the man in mid leap, then sent him sailing into the far wall. Alder gaped as the lizard man

turned toward him. It held his flashlight in its other hand, playing the beam onto Alder's face.

The woman's roar reminded the officer of the remaining danger, but she was upon him before he could react. Her leap knocked them both to the floor as she attempted to bite and claw him. The officer struggled, but it was all he could do to keep her teeth and nails away from his neck and face. She was strong, he had to admit. Maybe she was on some kind of new drug.

Her left hand broke free of Alder's grip, and she slashed out with dirt-caked fingernails. They dug into his right cheek, drawing deep gashes of red across his face. Then, as quickly as she attacked, she was gone. The officer looked up as the lizard man smashed her with his heavy forearm. She collapsed without so much as a sound of protest.

The first brute appeared to have recovered somewhat, but the fight was out of him. He ran into the street, leaving his companions behind.

Alder and the lizard man regarded each other warily, curiously. The lizard examined the flashlight for a moment, reverently turning it over in its massive claws. Then it extended it to Alder.

The officer tried to get a sense of the creature's intentions, but he had no common experience to judge this by. So he took the light as it was offered, nodding a thank you.

"Tal Tu," the lizard man said. Then it repeated it, thumping its chest.

That must be its name, Alder thought. No, not it.
He,
he guessed.

"Rick Alder," the officer said, thumping his chest just as Tal Tu had. "You saved my life. Thank you."

The gray cat rubbed up against Alder's leg. He bent down and lifted the cat, gently scratching it behind the ears.

"You're not like the others, are you Tal Tu?" Alder asked, not expecting an answer. But Tal Tu provided him with one anyway.

The lizard reached out and petted the cat.

14

The trek through the subway passed for Bryce as a dreamy, detached memory. After leading them down onto the tracks, Coyote had Rat douse the torch. Immediately Bryce missed the fluttering, smoky light. The uniform blackness was unending and quiet. After a failed attempt at small talk by the priest, the three fell silent. So Bryce concentrated on placing one foot in front of the other, on keeping a hand on Coyote's shoulder, on listening to Rat's cracking gum.

Bryce lost track of time. It seemed as though the only reality in the dark tunnels was the pain in his legs and the leather jacket he held to firmly. His mind turned to other things. He listed his experiences of the past two days, the creatures he had seen, reconstructing events as he understood them.

Could these be the Last Days? Certainly there were similarities between what he saw and what John described in the Book of Revelation. But were those lizards some type of demon? Was the Judgment Day at hand?

The priest tried to recall specific passages, tried to form the words in his mind. But for once his memory failed him. The words would not come. He tried to pray, but that, too, failed to calm him.

Coyote halted abruptly. Bryce banged into him, unaware of the boy's intentions. Then the youth was gone.

"Coyote!" Bryce called, suddenly very afraid of being left in the dark by himself.

"Cool it, Father," whispered Rat as he grasped Bryce's hand. "We've reached Lexington Avenue and Coyote just wants to check out the station before we keep going."

Lexington Avenue. The first stop in Manhattan on the E and F lines, Bryce thought. He hefted the familiar weight of his mass kit, then leaned against a pillar to wait.

Moments passed. Then Bryce said, "Why are you down here, Rat?"

"Same reason as you, man," he said quietly, keeping his voice low.

"But what about your parents?"

"Don't got none. I mean, we don't got none no more. We're orphans, man. We got only each other, but we take care of ourselves real good."

"We sure do," Coyote said, his voice reaching out of the darkness. "The station's clear, preacher man. We can go on."

"What were you looking for, Coyote?"

"Gangs, lizards, winos ... you name it man, it might be down here."

"Yeah," Rat said, "if you're asleep, they might bite your ass."

Bryce wasn't sure, but he thought he saw Rat smile in the darkness.

Then they moved on.

15

Sergeant Dykstra couldn't get his radio to work. He also couldn't get his jeep to start or his compass to tell him which way was north. In fact, nothing seemed to be working.

"Damn," he said, throwing the compass in anger. "What do we do now?"

Corporal Wilson slammed the jeep's hood and shrugged. "Beats me. You're in charge of this operation."

Yeah, he thought, what a privilege.

They had been on practice maneuvers when the call came through. The two of them had been given a jeep and a radio, then told to range ahead to reconnoiter the land while Alpha Company waited to hook up with

Bravo Company, another National Guard unit from further south. Who were they kidding, anyway? The whole lot of them were nothing but a bunch of weekend warriors from Buffalo and Erie. But until the army could get its act together, it was up to the National Guard to scope out the situation.

"You'd think that they could have found a couple of units closer to New York City," Wilson muttered as he tried the radio again.

"They tried. But they couldn't reach anyone within three hundred miles of the place. No radio, no telephone, no nothing."

"Just like us."

"Yeah. Just like us."

They were going along well, making good time. They wanted to reach Elmira, on the New York-Pennsylvania border, before it got too dark. But just twenty-five miles out or so, everything shut off. They were stuck, and they couldn't even get word back to their unit.

"So what do we do, Sarge?"

"What else can we do? We wait."

16

Kurst was controlled chaos in physical form. Not that he appeared wild — but his eyes hinted of savage sport and his sweat smelled of thick forests. If you watched him long enough, you could detect his primal nature. He wore a compact, powerful body around his wildness. Just under six foot, he was definitely muscular, but not bulky.

He moved with fluid grace, almost lupine in nature. Every silent step appeared to be the one that would set his taunt muscles free, that would send his body springing wildly into the night. But he stayed on track, in control of every movement.

Thick brown hair fell to just above his jaw line. A warm wind blew his hair back, exposing the tapered tips of his ears. His slightly angled eyes glowed in the dim twilight.

He paused briefly, unconcerned with the falling rain. Bending down, he scooped up a handful of mud and sniffed it. A step. Another scoop of mud. Then he was off, sprinting silently into the gathering gloom. hidden behind overgrowth, barely perceptible to pas-shadow that was subtly deeper than the shadows around it. He could hear the change in the wind as it blew across the hollow opening. And he could smell the fear of his quarry, drawing him forward.

Pushing past the overgrowth, the hunter filled the cave mouth. He paused for a moment, reaching out with every sense. The stormer within the cave pulled back, trying to shrink from the hunter's dark form. This world was no different than the countless others, the hunter

filled the cave mouth. He paused for a moment, reaching out with every sense. The stormer within the cave pulled back, trying to shrink from the hunter's dark form. This world was no different than the countless others, the hunter thought. Even those with the power to oppose him and his master were too frightened to fight for their miserable lives. Perhaps that was why the Gaunt Man was destined to succeed in his grand vision.

Was it not the way of every reality that the stronger take what they need from the weaker? Does not the wolf kill the deer for sustenance? Why shouldn't the Gaunt Man take what he needs from these pathetic beings? It was the way of nature — no matter what world you were on.

The hunter entered the small cave. The game was over. He just had to finish his move. Then he could return to the keep.

"Come with me, stormer," Kurst said, using the words of this world that the Gaunt Man had impressed into his mind. "You never had a chance against me. You are the deer, I am the wolf, and the conclusion of our chase was never in doubt."

Perhaps the hunter had grown careless. Perhaps his confidence had blocked out the messages of his senses. Whatever the reason, he barely reacted in time as the stormer slashed out with a long knife. As it was, the sharp blade had cut through his tunic, leaving a long gash across his chest. He could smell his own blood, feel the heat of it as it oozed from the gash. It wasn't deep, and he had endured worse pain, but it had been a long time since a quarry had drawn any of his blood, let alone first blood. Perhaps there was more to these stormers, after all.