Robert Crane - Alone

This close to him, I had a revelation. Where a normal person would have fingernails, he had claws. They jutted out an inch or so above the ends of his fingers, black, with a pointed tip that looked sharp. They seemed to extend as I watched them.

I tried to stagger back but he seized my right arm and his claws raked into the skin, shredding through my sleeve. I pulled away and fell down, rolling to my feet and slipping away just in time to avoid a slash. I felt my back bump into the wall and realized he had cornered me. I reached up by instinct and grabbed for a weapon, pulling down a dagger and holding it in front of me as he leaped forward and slammed into me, driving me into the wall.

I opened my eyes and I felt like I’d lost a few seconds. My head spun from the impact. Wolfe was big; I would have bet he weighed well over three hundred pounds. I took a sharp intake of breath and realized he had been laying across me; that he had actually broken through the concrete block of the basement wall by driving my body into it. The powdered dust from the destruction hung in the air like a haze over me as I lolled in some twilight form of consciousness.

I tried to move my arms but failed. There was a long shadow stretching to the ceiling above me and it reached down with a pointed hand and grasped me, once more, around the neck, hauling me into the air. I knew my feet were dangling below me, but I couldn’t feel them. I looked into those black eyes and my view expanded a little, like a camera when it zooms out, and I realized his face was contorted with rage.

“Look what you did to Wolfe, little doll.” He shook me, hanging in the air as I was, and twisted my neck so that my eyes rolled toward his midsection. The knife I had pulled from the wall and stuck out to stop him was buried in his gut and a steady stream of blood had soaked his shirt. I would have smiled, but I wasn’t really in a position to.

His hand wasn’t choking me this time, just dangling me in place. I realized later that I must have been concussed when he smashed me through the wall; had some bones broken, probably my spine as well, because the feeling in my extremities was missing.

“Wolfe is tired of the way you play.” He pulled me closer to him and I felt his nose run along my neck, heard the faint sound of sniffing. “I don’t think you can move now…” The ominous way he said it turned my stomach. “Now Wolfe can play with you his way…without any interruptions—”

Before I could find out what that meant (though I had a disgusting theory) a flash of light seared my eyes and something rocked Wolfe from behind. He dropped me and I fell to my side, curled up. Upon impact, I lay there for a moment, unmoving, then realized I could now feel my arms, my legs and everything else. And they all hurt. Another flash of light lit the room and I sat up, nursing a half dozen cuts and some agonizing pain in my back and neck.

Kurt Hannegan stood at the bottom of the stairs, eyes blazing, what was left of his hair in disarray. In his hands was a shining silver gun unlike any I’d seen before, with a series of three cylindrical barrels that were smoking. “Can you move?”

I nodded, blanching from the pain that filled me.

“Then go!” He jerked a thumb toward the stairs as he pointed the weapon at Wolfe once more and fired. The barrels emitted a beam of pure white and Wolfe’s body shook, pushing him from his side to his back. His nose twitched and his eyes, though glossy, looked at me with inarticulate rage. His hand slid from where it lay to grasp me around the ankle, just barely holding it.

“Little doll…”

I ripped my ankle from his grasp and brought it down hard on his face. Then again. When I lifted my foot, I saw him smiling. He tried to roll to his side but failed.

“GET MOVING!” Hannegan fired twice in rapid succession, his blasts rolling Wolfe to a facedown position.

I staggered over to Zack, whose eyes were shut, his face a bloody mess. “We have to get him out of here,” I said to Kurt.

“Dammit,” I heard Hannegan mutter under his breath. The gun went off twice more when my back was turned and I shot a look back to Wolfe, who was fighting to get back to his feet. “I’m running out of juice for this thing!”

I reached down to Zack and wrapped an arm under his chest and pulled. Lifting him was only marginally more difficult than walking by myself was at this point. Unfortunately, walking by myself was quite the challenge. I made for the staircase, supporting him as I climbed. I heard the gun discharge twice more, then some swearing from Kurt, and heavy footfalls on the stairs behind me as I turned the corner and entered the living room.

I staggered past the sofa, pausing for a beat as I saw two dead Directorate agents in the living room, one with a look of shock on his face, the other missing his head. I stepped over another body on the porch, this one missing at least one arm. Another was splayed out under the tree in the front yard as though he were napping in the snow. I almost slipped at the same spot as last time I left the house, but recovered.

I opened the door to the backseat and threw Zack in, then hobbled to the front just as Kurt cleared the driveway. He slid into the driver’s seat and was already starting the car as he slammed the door. His foot was on the accelerator before it was in gear, causing a loud thump as the car rocked and the tires slipped on the snowy pavement.

I looked back at the house. Wolfe staggered out the front door, clutching his ribs, and broke into a run as we shot down the street.

“He’s gaining on us!” I shouted as I looked back, watching Wolfe streak along behind us, loping on all fours. Like a dog.

Kurt took the corner so fast we slid until the wheels caught and took off again. I heard a screeching noise and turned to see Wolfe dig his claws into the trunk. Little bits of metal flaked off as if they were paper. I looked through the rear window and saw those black eyes staring back at me, the mouth of the demon upturned in a grin. I couldn’t take my eyes off him. He was keeping pace with the car, barely, trying to use his claws to secure a hold to grab on.

Kurt floored it as we shot through another intersection, then turned to get on the freeway. Wolfe’s hands fell free of the trunk, but he kept running behind us, still watching me. He maintained his pace all the way to the top of the onramp, at which point Kurt put the accelerator to the floor and I saw Wolfe’s black eyes recede in the distance as we made our escape.

As the car sped down the interstate, I stole a look at the speedometer. Kurt was doing close to a hundred as I slipped into the back seat and knelt on the floorboard next to Zack. One of my gloved hands held his head while the other wiped the blood from his face. It flowed from his nose, which was broken. The rest of his handsome face seemed unharmed and his eyes fluttered open.

“What happened?” he asked, woozy.

“Wolfe,” I replied.

“Oh. Did we win?”

I heard a snort from Kurt in the front seat. “Do you feel like you won, kid?”

He turned his face to look at the back of Kurt’s head. “I’m still alive, so yeah. Kinda.” His hand crept up to his nose and held it, stemming the bleeding. He sat up, his eyeballs rolling. “What about the other guys?” He looked at Kurt, who made no move but to stiffen and keep focused on the road.

Zack turned to me. His eyes met mine and I had to look away. “I don’t think there were any survivors,” I said, looking down.

“How did we get away?” His voice carried a dreamlike quality.

Kurt harrumphed in the front seat. I shot a glare at him. “Your partner shot Wolfe with some kind of epic blaster weapon that kept him down while I carried you out. Why weren’t all your guys carrying those?”