Sarwat Chadda - Dark Goddess

Jesus, this is insane. Billi fought to control her breathing, and to hold the pistol steady; the light was jumping all over the place. Panic rose up in her chest. Vasilisa could be behind any one of these doors, and if Billi didn’t find her now, she might never get the chance again. She peered down the corridor and made out four doors. The stairs continued upward.

Search or keep climbing?

Adoor ahead of her creaked open.

Billi booted it hard, and there was a yelp and a thud as someone fell backward. She pointed her light through the open door, and a werewolf leaped to its feet. Billi fired, but the beast was already gone, and all she shot was a curtained window. She heard screaming from one of the rooms in the apartment. A child’s scream.

“Vasilisa?” Billi shouted. Oh my God, she’s in here. She’s here!

Clawed feet scuttled across the tiled floor, and the werewolf darted in and out of sight. There had to be interconnecting doors. She should go back, wait for the others.

But Vasilisa. She was so close. Billi couldn’t risk leaving her. She took another step into the apartment.

The smell of damp heat permeated the air. A girl’s dress lay steaming on the radiator. The small spotlight from Billi’s flashlight showed her peeling wallpaper, spots of mold and flaking paint on the doors. The furniture looked like it had been collected from a Dumpster, a patchy sofa with threadbare seats and half-untangled wicker chairs. She checked the light switch. Nothing. The Bogatyrs must have cut the electricity.

Billi squinted, trying to penetrate the darkness ahead. The flashlight was nearly useless; the beam was so narrow that it lit only a hand’s width of space.

Billi could hear a child’s sniffling coming from somewhere ahead. Vasilisa was so close. Billi wanted to run toward the sound, but had to fight to keep herself focused on the job at hand. Her search was almost over. But almost wasn’t good enough.

A floorboard creaked next to her, and Billi spun, but a thick forearm crashed across hers, and her pistol flew away. The bestial roar was by her ear, and hot, offal-scented breath hissed across her face as she grabbed the black snout to stop it from tearing out her throat. Her fingers dug deep into the werewolf’s muzzle as she held it away, and the long fangs snapped only inches from her face. It lifted her high up against the wall, its claws slashing at her body armor while she kneed it in the stomach. But even as it cried out, it pushed its head steadily closer to her. Billi’s arms quivered, and hot spittle dripped on her cheek. She had her kukri, but needed to let go with one hand to grab it. The monster hissed; Billi couldn’t resist its primordial strength for much longer and it knew it.

So close. So close. Vasilisa was on the other side of that door, and Billi had to save her. Her teeth locked into a feral snarl and she dragged up every ounce of strength she had, burying her nails into the fleshy snout, grinding them in. The beast flinched as she drew blood, but it wasn’t going to let its prize escape. She felt its body stiffen as it focused all of its power on tearing out her throat.

“No,” Billi whispered. It couldn’t end like this. But it would. Her arms ached and she couldn’t hold it back anymore. She buckled under the relentless force, and the werewolf growled as it shook itself free of Billi’s grip. It opened its jaws and…

Screamed. The knife went in through its jaw and slammed it shut as the blade buried itself in its upper palette. Blood frothed through its blacklips, and a snort of red foam burst from its nostrils. Ivan wrapped his arm around the monster’s neck and twisted his knife deeper. The werewolf tried clawing at him, but Ivan bent it backward, almost lifting the huge creature off its feet, so its attacks were wild and weak. Ivan pulled the knife out and plunged it back in. The werewolf’s scream rose into a high-pitched wail, then it went slack. Ivan stood and slowly released the body. The werewolf slid to the floor, its body shedding fur second by second. Bill stumbled across the room and snatched up her pistol. Then she turned back to the monster.

It was gone. In its place lay a young woman. Her body was stone-white except for the scarf of crimson blood that ran from her jaw and down her chest. Ivan stood over her, panting hard. Then he straightened up and slowly wiped the sweat off his forehead, dragging his hand over his short dark bristles, leaving them spiky with blood. The red fingerprints left a long trail over his face.

“You are a fool, coming in here alone like this,” he said. “But now we are even, da?”

Still trying to catch her breath, Billi looked up into Ivan’s serious gray eyes and nodded. She would have been dead without him.

Achild’s whimper suddenly pulled Billi away from her thoughts.

Vasilisa. Billi jumped to her feet. “Vasilisa?” She went to the far door. There was a clown painted on it. Billi twisted the handle and heard a cry from inside. Locked. Ivan came up beside her. He hoisted the gun up and smashed the brass knob off with the butt.

The bedroom was basic but clean. A chest of drawers stood in the corner, and next to it, under the window, was a child’s bed, the quilt patchy and faded. Someone huddled beneath it.

Oh thank God. She’d made it. It had been worth it. Billi moved forward and gently pulled the cover away.

“Vasilisa, I’m here.” She could take her back; it would all be okay. Billi’s eyes blurred, and the pistol light wouldn’t lie straight. The cover fell from the child’s face.

The girl sobbed, clutching a clown doll. Her blond hair was bristly and unkempt, much like the woman’s who lay dead in the corridor. Her eyes were light brown; her teeth an even row of ivory needle points. She growled.

No. It wasn’t Vasilisa.

“Stand aside,” ordered Yuri. Billi spun around as he raised his gun, and she jumped in front of him. The smallest squeeze of the trigger and Billi’s guts would be decorating the wall. At this range, her body armor would be as useful as tissue paper.

“Polenitsy,” he insisted.

“It doesn’t matter.” Billi turned her back to him and looked at the girl, her heart tripping with fear. She put the Glock on the table and held out her hand. “Come with me.”

The girl didn’t understand what Billi was saying, but she looked at her hand, then reached out. Her fingers were thin and cold, but her grip fierce. She stepped off the bed, and Billi held her close. She may not have found Vasilisa, but she wasn’t going to be responsible for this girl’s death.

Yuri blocked the doorway. He raised his pistol and Billi blinked as the red laser spot rose to the center of her forehead. She looked at the Glock on the table. It was only a foot away, but it may as well have been on the other side of the planet.

I’ll never reach it.

Ivan took a step in front of Yuri.

“ Polozhi pistolet,” he said.

Yuri didn’t lower his weapon. “ Nu ona zhe oboroten.”

“ Ya skazal, polozhi pistolet!” Ivan pulled out his own pistol and pointed it at Yuri.

Any second now this is going all Tarantino. Maybe I could just sneak out while they’re busy.

Yuri scowled. Sweat formed on his forehead. Billi held her breath, her hand slowly moved toward her Glock, just in case.

“ Chort!” shouted Yuri, dropping his pistol to his side. Ivan lowered his weapon, but never took his eyes off the Bogatyr. “Now what?”

“Get her out of here,” Billi’s hands were still shaking. That had been too bloody close. She picked up the pistol and shoved it back in her pocket. She came to the door and Yuri stepped aside, tapping his pistol against his leg impatiently. She looked down the corridor. No one. “Well, are you going to help or what?”