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Devour City
Chapter 34 — Howlers, Pheonix, Traction!

Chapter 34 — Howlers, Pheonix, Traction!

Wheeler

Hey, the Ragers are hunting for you.

Keep your heads up and listen to Cheddar.

They'll know what to do.

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Asher

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“What are we going to do?” Asher pressed against the wall as a shade moved past. It didn’t seem attracted by the racket the howler made, which was the strangest sound Asher had ever heard; like a simultaneous bark, whine, and howl, making him feel both terrified and sad. He wanted to run away to escape a deadly monster, but also forward to help the tortured animal. “We should run, right?”

“We can’t outrun it,” said O’Leary.

“Even the smaller ones can run faster than most humans,” said Green. “You’re all very slow.”

“It’s just sitting in there then, so let’s ignore it and move on?”

Green hopped forward, glancing around the alley's corner. The howl stopped, replaced by more twin whine-barking. “Nope, that’s Princess, one of Cleo’s pack, and she's calling for the hunt.”

"Maybe the others are out of range," said O'Leary.

Howls in the distance answered Princess's call. Asher jumped at the sound. There must be dozens of them; it didn't sound close, but it was still way too close for his comfort.

“Feck! Okay, we can’t let her lead a pack to us,” said O’Leary. He reached up and pulled a twig from his bandoleer. “Wind, right?” He held it out to Green.

“Willow, and yes, that’s for air.” Green's ears flopped as his head bobbed in a nod. "Careful, howlers are loud, the pack isn't that close, we have some time."

“Okay, I got this.” O’Leary stepped into the alley.

"Don't mess around. Air is almost as difficult to control as fire, and you were never very good at the control part."

“Wait, we don’t want to hurt it. Do we?” asked Asher.

"I've got this." O’Leary snapped the willow twig and a light breeze brushed at his clothes and hair. “We don’t have a choice.”

“He’s right, besides out of all the creatures in the Belly howlers can’t cycle or end. They just are.”

“Okay, but if she’s part of a group. Why is she here alone?”

“That’s a great question. I guess they sometimes get separated when hunting? Be careful, something is off about this.”

“Maybe we can scare it off?” Asher stood up and stepped out beside O’Leary. Holding the bat in both hands, he took a fake swing at the howler, adding in his own growl.

Princess snarled, the growl issued deep from within her corporeal body, echoed by her ghostly head. Asher felt it resonate through him, not with dread like what Lady Wraith sent against him in the mindscape. No, this was despair, making him feel like there was no point in any of this. A dirty pink collar hung from around her corporeal neck, much like the one Cheddar wore around their wrist. A few rusted metal tags still dangled from it. She had a home once, a family, like Asher. No, this wasn’t right. She was so small, maybe closer to the ground than Asher’s knee. He caught Green out of the corner of his eye, circling around, but the glowing red eyes of Princess’ ethereal head followed along until one head looked at Green and the other watched Asher and O’Leary.

"You have to feel air, O'Leary. It's not like fire or earth where you can see the energy."

“Feck. Lost it.” O’Leary reached for another willow branch and snapped it. Again, a light breeze pulled at him. "I got this."

Princess charged, her corporeal form sprinting towards O’Leary while her ghostly form lunged at the circling Green.

"O'Leary!" Asher stepped between him and Princess bat raised, but the ghostly side won whatever hidden battle the howler fought and its corporeal body snapped to its ethereal one as the howler leapt for Green. A blast of air clipped Asher, knocking him forward a step and slammed into Princess' flank, causing her to spin, as Green dodged the oncoming fangs.

Asher didn't halt his forward momentum, instead he charged — bat raised.

“Activate the glyphs!” Green streaked by Asher.

Princess, already recovered from the wind blast, spun and counter-charged Asher.

Asher swung as the howler came at him; the inactive bat passed through her ghostly head without resistance, but cracked into the corporeal Princess with a thud, knocking her down with a yelp. What was he doing? She was so small. Momentum broken, Asher kicked out to keep Princess back, but the howler’s ghostly side, unfazed by his attack, leapt at his arm — ethereal jaws gaining substance as they tore into his energy infused flesh; corporeal Princess snapped up to join as physical teeth joined in on the savaging. Princess thrashed in the air, sharp teeth tearing flesh and energy from biceps and knuckles as Asher’s howls of pain joined with those of the reinforcements closing in.

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***

“What was that?” asked a daughter, walking along the street with her father.

“Did you hear that?” said the store owner as he looked out his door. “I think someone’s having a heart attack!”

“Someone’s in trouble! Call the police!” shouted a woman from across the street.

Shades, attracted by Asher’s cries, were coming.

***

Asher swung his arm around, trying to shake Princess free, while the other wailed at her with the bat. Each blow he landed with the mundane weapon caused a yelp from the corporeal Princess, but she just took energy from her ghostly side, healing wounds as both sides doubled down on shredding his arm — he couldn’t think straight, his mind was fear, pain, and howls; even Green felt distant. Then a twin yelp tore from both forms as his bat came down, jaws tore free, and the bat’s glyphs burned a deep indigo — magic activated.

Princess fell from his arm as a blast of air slammed into them, knocking Asher from his feet into a roll and sending Princess flying to his right. Asher threw up his arm to protect his head from the pavement — his roll interrupted by the chain-link fence at the alley’s end. Princess crashed against the garbage bins with a deep metallic thud, whimpering as she tried to stand before, giving up and layig on her belly with a whine.

“Sorry!” O’Leary jogged over to Asher. “Feck, is that, eh? Wait, is that a hand?”

Asher groaned in pain. He had no clue what O’Leary saw, but panic ripped through his mind. A hand? His hand? No, it was in too much agony to be gone, right? Asher let his weight roll him on to his back off the fence, twisting his neck as he saw his torn hand. Still there, though, it looked more like hamburger and he couldn’t move his fingers, but he watched as it knit back together — it was healing. He needed to get up. Head leading, Asher tried to sit up, but a sharp pain seared through him and he cried out. “Fuck! Think you got some ribs, O’Leary. Help me up.”

He reached down and Asher clenched teeth, locking down his pain as O’Leary helped him up. A human hand laid where they first saw Princess, a make shift chew-toy to occupy the little howler. “It’s an ambush! The hand kept her here. We pulled the shades in.”

“It’s not about the shades.” Green hopped to the alley’s entrance.

“Uh, she’s getting back up,” O’Leary pointed.

There were a half-dozen Shades moving around the alley now, looking for others injured in whatever fiction they believe happened, while another five stood around as a sixth gave CPR to the seventh laying on the ground; one searcher was getting close to Princess.

“Stop that shade,” said Green, keeping one eye on the street and another on Asher in the dead-end alley.

O’Leary snapped another willow twig, cursing as the magic slipped from his grasp. “Fecking wind!”

Ghostly Princess lunged at the nearest shade, teeth latched on to its calf, and the shade didn’t break. It convulsed, its form shrinking into the howler. Princess was feeding on it! As it absorbed the energy, the corporeal Princess stood, sinking her teeth in beside her ghostly set.

If this was an ambush, they had no more time. Asher charged forward as she finished feeding and the shade disappeared — Princess snarled, but Asher cut it short with a swing of the bat with his good hand; glyphs flared as the wood connected, slapping the howler into the pavement. O’Leary sent another wind blast into her, spinning Princess into a vertical support bar of the chain-link fence. Asher closed the distance in three steps, hammering the bat into her again — Princess rolled on to her side with a yelp, belly exposed, shook, and went still.

The bat fell from his fingers. What had he done? Asher burst into tears. “Why? I hated doing that!” he shouted. “I hate this place!” He crumpled to the ground, the still howler on his right beside the fence, the large garbage bin to his left.

“Asher, the shades. Eat, quickly. This isn’t over.”

Asher saw O’Leary’s mouth chewing as he did his best to dodge the shades in the alley’s entrance. An ambulance had arrived, parked on the sidewalk beside the alley, and adding another dozen or more shades coming to see what was happening. They were all at the alley’s mouth, the hunter’s theater in full swing trapping them. Asher wasn’t sure they could avoid the shades if they wanted to exit the alley and, with Princess down, shades pressed up against the fence, surrounding them.

Green hopped around shades, doing his best to watch the street. “Car! O’Leary, watch....”

A blue pickup squealed its tires as it whipped into a donut at the alley’s entrance, fishtailing its box through the opening. O’Leary dove forward, but the truck clipped him as it plowed through shades — he let out a pain-filled ‘grah!’ as the truck knocked him sideways to the ground. Shades broke as the truck connected, wheels peeled against the pavement as the truck avoided the parked ambulance by a maybe an inch and roared away with dozens of broken shades in pursuit.

“Ragers!” Green hopped towards them.

Asher ran for O’Leary across the mostly clear alley. “You, okay? What was that? Did they just save us?”

“No, they didn’t,” said Green. “They just cleared the field.”

"Wheeler's text, he said Ragers were hunting us."

O’Leary tried to push to his feet, but cried out in pain and fell back. The bone of his right leg poked out below his knee.

His cry of pain pushed all thoughts of the Ragers from Asher's mind. "Shit, what can I do?"

“You need to straighten it and push it back in,” said Green.

Asher moved down to his leg as O’Leary reached into his hoodie pouch and pulled out a handful of Red Vines.

“I’ve been better. This sucks.” O’Leary said through clenched teeth wrapped. “Feck, I don’t miss this — do it.”

All Asher knew was that bones went on the inside; O’Leary let out a scream at his first attempt.

“You need to pull and push, like putting a battery in.”

“Really?”

“It’s worth a try.”

Asher did. The bone slide back in, guided by the healing tissue, and as it did, the healing seemed to speed up as O’Leary downed Red Vines in twos and threes.

“Better, thanks. Did you say, Ragers?”

“I did,” said Green.

Asher took out a protein shake and downed it before grabbing a granola bar. “How long until you can stand?”

“Soon. We need to leave here, cause if this was a trap and Ragers just pied-pipered shades away, the others won’t be far behind.”

"Good news is they probably want us Bellyside rather than cycled, so that's a positive," said Green.

"Makes sense, probably why they cleared out most of the shades," agreed Asher.

"Still a few around, though." O'Leary pointed at the few paramedics, spectators, and the heart-attack victim, who seemed to make a full recovery. "Heads on a swivel, boys."

An old yellow Firebird, black bird spread across the hood, parked at the alley's entrance with an effortless glide. A blue jeep complete with off-road tires, bush bumper, and winch, but without doors or roof rolled in on the Firebird's right, while a red mustang wrapped in decal flame and red-lit undercarriage purred like a sleeping dragon on its left. Together, they were three prongs of a trident, ready to thrust from their primary escape route.

“Maybe they can help,” said Asher.

“No, buddy," said O'Leary, his eyes locked on the driver of the Firebird. “You were right. This is definitely an ambush.”

"Looks like we get a round two," said Green.