The moon broke from the clouds, that was all that saved her. There was the faintest touch of wind in her face and then a flash of white that made her duck more out of instinct than anything else. She felt the faintest brush across the side of her head as a massive shape sped past her. Naomi turned, following it, but before she could catch more than a flashing impression of white wings and long, grasping talons it had vanished.
“Inside!” Gael shouted. Naomi scrambled over the edge, landing beside the door and finding it slightly ajar. She hauled on the edge and the door groaned as it swung wide enough to duck inside. The other three were on her heels but the creature was also on theirs. It gave a low, nearly musical shriek and pulled up short, talons slashing at their backs. Tyver cried out but shook free as he passed the door, his back wet in the light spilling from outside.
The beast's great wings folded back like a bat's as it landed, clawing at the door’s frame and howling. Tyver clutched at the inner handle and roared wordlessly he planted himself and pulled, fighting the creature’s grip. The rest of them helped as best they could, slashing awkwardly at the creature’s claw with their knives until it let go, hissing furiously, and stepped back. The door swung shut with a clang and a crunch as the locks engaged, leaving them in darkness.
Naomi heard Tyver cursing in gutter slang from somewhere to her left, the others panting at her right. There were faint thumps as the creature thrashed against the door. She eyed the frame, watching as it withstood the battering, then stepped forward to peer through the eye slit.
It was dark for a moment before her enhanced eyes adjusted. Then she saw the creature backing away from the door and into the moonlight.
It reminded her of birds, of pictures she’d seen in lessons of old Earth-That-Was. Birds with round faces, broad white wings, and the silent grace of ghosts. This, though, hunched forward like a bat as it crawled awkwardly along the ground, wings folded in arcs of bone and long, delicate scales. The creature’s face split wide, seemingly too wide for the narrow beak as it let out another shrieking call.
And then, for a moment, Naomi could have sworn that the creature’s eyes shivered and dissolved. That for a bare second she saw something small and shining, shadows and light coiling around it like smoke. Then the creature resolved back into solidity, spread its wings, and leapt skyward.
“Did anyone see…”
She turned to her friends and found them all where she’d left them, barely visible in what light managed to come through the slit. They were crouching on the small square of concrete above the stairs leading into the bunker’s depths, looking up at her.
“See what?” Gael asked.
“That thing, it…” She shook her head. “Maybe it’s shock, I don’t know. For a second it looked like a… a projection or something. Like a hologram.”
“I’ve never seen anything like that before,” Wynn said, not looking up from tending Tyver’s back. “Not in life, not in memory. Have any of you?”
“No devil-birds, no ‘grams neither,” Tyver grated. “How bad?”
“It’s ugly, but worse than it looks. Should close up in an hour or two, scar up in a few days. Just keep it clean, Tyver. You were lucky.”
“Stuck in a hole w’naught t’eat, devil-bird outside waitin’? Lucky, sure.” Tyver sighed. “Best shirt. Only shirt. Stupid devil-bird.”
“I don’t think it’s called a devil-bird,” Gael said thoughtfully.
“Have you seen anything like that before, Gael?” Naomi asked, glancing through the slit again. “Remembered anything?”
“No. It’s new for me too. It’s also what happened to their sentry.”
“It’s almost what happened to me!” Naomi said.
“And it might still happen if we want to leave,” Gael said solemnly. “I suggest we call it a sky shark. No shame in being eaten by a sky shark.”
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“T’fishy. Like devil-bird, I.”
“Friends,” Wynn said. “I think we have more immediate things to discuss than what to call our mysterious monster.”
“Like what?” Naomi asked.
Wynn nodded down the stairwell into the bunker’s depths. Far off, barely visible in the gloom, was a light.
It was a heater, glowing orange from behind a pane of glass. The warmth filled the tiny room where they’d found it, little less than a bunk and desk set into the wall. It wasn’t until they looked under the bunk that they found her, shivering outside the dim light.
“Wish we’t a lamp, I.” Tyver said quietly.
“We can arrange that,” Naomi said. “They managed more than the door if they’ve got that thing going. Let me…” She fumbled at the edge of the alcove, grunting with satisfaction as something clicked. Light filled the alcove from a dirty bulb overhead.
The stranger was about Tyver’s size, maybe a little smaller, but in considerably worse shape. They had curled into a ball with their back to the hallway, the slashes across their back stark in the wash of light. The friends exchanged a look as they took in the injuries, a series of slashes that looked as though someone had simply pressed an edge against the skin until it broke. Mingled in were wider, deeper injuries, bizarre wounds that looked like nothing so much as bites from a bladed flower. Wordlessly Gael and Tyver moved to keep watch on the hall, back to back and blades drawn as the other two tended the stranger.
“How do we help her?” Naomi whispered. “All we have is our knives. Everything else is back where we stashed it, past your sky shark.”
“She’s got her bag, check there,” Gael said over his shoulder. Naomi looked, found the bag and pulled it open.
It was filled to bursting with everything they didn’t need at the moment. Coils of wire, odd pieces of metal, tools and cases and cans. It wasn’t until they upended the bag on the desk that they finally found water and a small bundle of metweave.
“If we can boil the metweave in some water to be sure it’s clean, that should do for a bandage.” Wynn said.
Naomi matter-of-factly reached for the heater, flipped a catch and set it face up on the desk, forming a small stove.
“That’s clever,” Wynn whispered approvingly as he began cutting the metweave into strips. “No wonder Ezek wants this place. It’s a little too convenient for a proving ground, kind of undermines the whole thing.”
Naomi took the biggest can and filled it with water before setting it on the stove. “I think the idea was competition, force us to fight over shelter.”
“Charming.”
“Shush, topper!” Tyver hissed. “T’loud!”
“If there was another monster in here it would have got her already.” Naomi said.
“It got the rest,” Gael said quietly. They turned to face him and he nodded down the hallway.
The bodies were too shredded to easily recognize as human, studs glinting from scraps of skin the only sign they belonged to initiates. Swathes of flesh were missing outright, stripped free by those same petalled jaws.
“Glory,” Wynn said in a pale voice, his hand fumbling the knife. The edge slipped against the ball of his hand and he hissed, dropping the weapon with an echoing clang.
A burbling rasp came from the shadows among the corpses and something uncoiled from among them, glistening wetly. It was a writhing, boneless loop of muscle and serrated chitin, blending almost perfectly with the remains of its victims. The fist-sized whorl of glittering edges that formed the monster’s face rose to chest height and spread wide, a scarlet and pink fan of hissing horror.
Tyver had been carrying Ezek’s knife as a trophy, so it wasn’t entirely foolish to throw it. The blade tumbled through the air and cut a shallow divot in the creature’s flesh. It drew back with a snarl but by then the little thief was already on it, his second blade stabbing at the snakelike form. It writhed aside and began to lash toward him, only to run full onto Gael’s thrust. His blade sank into the thing and he tore the weapon out with brutal force, only to glance in astonished wonder at the bloodless steel in his hand.
The thing ducked and wound itself between their feet, throwing them to the ground. It sprang on Gael with a chittering yowl and Gael screamed in pain as the coils tightened, chitinous blades tearing into him. Naomi and Wynn were on it by that point, but…
But something tumbled past them. A crazed thatch of wires and solder and a single, blinking red light. it landed almost comically on Gael, looking like an industrial tumbleweed. The moment it was in arm’s reach of the snakelike thing the creature began to shriek, the tone no longer that of an animal but of harsh, grating feedback. It’s shape flickered in and out of focus, a shining ball floating beneath the flexing, bladed face. Naomi slammed her knife into the ball without thinking. It didn’t shatter so much as dissolve, coming apart in a spatter of light and eerie, liquid metal that vanished before their eyes.
They all turned to see the wounded initiate, a look of defiance and cold fury on their little face. They’d crawled from under the bunk and propped themselves up on one elbow, the other arm stretched in the throw that had saved Gael’s life. The initiate blinked at them, smiling blearily. “Kaya, daughter of the Iberris Frontier. Pleasure to…
She slumped back into unconsciousness.
Tyver blinked at her, then back at his friends. “Want that one t’join, I. No arguin’.”
Gael groaned and sat up, wincing as he poked at the cuts the thing had left him. “Fair enough.”