Officer Cuthbert hadn’t had a good day. It had started out well enough, heading to the station to meet with his partner and hop in the patrol cruiser. The first sign of things going wrong was when the supervisor had assigned them to foot patrol in Orlando International Airport. Foot patrols were always annoying, people constantly bothered you about minor things that really didn’t need police attention. Some lady complaining her drink was too cold, or claiming the price of airport food was somehow illegal.

It wasn’t all bad, of course, plenty of kids would rush up and excitedly ask them about all kinds of things, giving the two of them the chance to play the cool police officers for a bit. Oddly it had gotten better over the last couple years, since the portal things started appearing people were more accepting of having armed officers walking around in public, overshadowing the previous scandals that had dominated the news. But while the public was more welcoming in general, new policies were worrying. Officers were always to patrol in pairs, and when patrolling critical areas like airports they were required to bring their patrol rifles. In theory they also had to have the special ‘anti-creature’ rounds loaded, but after two years only a few made it to individual police stations. Most, apparently, were being sent to the national guard and military.

As such, when the power shut off and creatures started appearing he was glad to have carried his rifle and magazine of AC rounds for the last few hours.

Unfortunately one magazine was all he had, and it was barely enough to take down one of the strange creatures that emerged from a swirling ball of light. Cuthbert and his partner had been in one of the disconnected wings of the airport, and the creatures appeared right in the walkway leading back to the main terminal. They, along with a couple airport security who’d also been armed, had been forced to retreat into a corner of the gates along with several hundred people.

The AC rounds were a disappointment, barely seeming to harm the first creature to appear, but after seeing what normal rounds did he found himself wishing he had more AC bullets.

And, of course, he was in the one place where even the masses of Florida men behind him weren’t armed. Meaning it was down to him, his partner, and the two surviving airport security. They’d managed to push back the two initial creatures, though not before his partner was injured and several civilians were killed. Any thought of trying to make it to the tramline leading to the main terminal was quashed by the grisly sounds echoing through the halls. From fading screams to a wet tearing and crunching that he was trying really hard to not imagine the source of, they weren’t escaping that way. And going out onto the taxiway wasn’t any better, packs of the creatures appearing from swirling masses of light and wandering between the wrecks of aircraft they’d torn though.

All he could do was hide, women struggled to keep their kids silent while men grabbed anything they could that might be useful as a weapon. His partner was struggling to clear a jam in his sidearm without making any noise when everyone heard the clicking of a creature’s claws on the tiled floor.

Peering out from behind the overturned table, Cuthbert saw one of the creatures prowling in their direction, pausing to sniff and mess with each store it passed. The head, rear legs and body of the monster was cat like, if a cat was the size of a small car, massive eyes with vertical pupils scanned the area with a bestial intelligence while large triangular ears swiveled back and forth. The creature’s front legs most remind him of a sloth, overly long with massive fixed claws that he’d seen tear apart metal. While everything else was covered in a thin layer of whitish fur, the creature’s tail transitioned to large overlapping scales of a slightly darker color. Towards the tip of the tail the scales bunched up, sticking more outward than laying flush with the tail. More than once he’d seen the creatures snap their tails forward, launching a handful of those scales like clusters of thrown knives.

Looking across the hall at his partner, they made eye contact as the monster slowly came closer to where they hid, it was only a matter of time until they were found. They had to fight, but any gunfire would assuredly bring more of those creatures running. The only other choice was for one person to stand and distract the creature, he could see his partner pleading for him to take that role, but he was hoping his partner would do so. His partner nodded to his injured leg as if to argue that he wouldn’t be able to lead the creature far. He replied by glancing at the creature, expressing disbelief that anyone could outrun that thing for long.

A deep growl broke their silent argument, it was too late, they’d been found. Peeking out the creature was growling as it approached the gates where so many people were hiding. Gritting his teeth and saying a prayer, Cuthbert leaned out from cover, leveled his rifle on the creature and began firing. His partner and the airport security quickly followed suit, but they could have been throwing rocks for all the effect the weapons had. Still it gave the creature pause as it shook off the annoying pinpricks, a couple spots of red appearing in its white coat, not nearly enough to kill.

By the time the last of his ammo was gone the thing seemed more confused and angry than hurt, wondering what had been striking it.

This was it, he figured, I did my best but these things just wouldn’t die. No matter what he did, he was dead. He thought he’d be afraid, but after over two hours of hiding he was out of fear, all that remained was acceptance. He’d always laughed at stories of men who chose to die fighting against impossible odds, if you couldn’t win then why not simply lay down and take it. But now that he found himself in such a situation where death was bearing down on him he found himself feeling differently. He didn’t want to die laying down, he wanted to be able to claim he did his best, right up until the end. He knew it didn’t really matter, but perhaps that was the point, if it didn’t matter if he gave up or fought, then he wanted to go out fighting.

Drawing his baton and taser Cuthbert stood, snapping the baton open with a flick of his wrist. The creature’s growling got louder as its eyes focused on him. Much to his surprise, Cuthbert felt someone step up along side him, glancing over to see his partner.

“Thanks,” Cuthbert said.

“Don’t,” the other man replied, “I just don’t think you should die alone.”

Cuthbert simply smiled, raised his baton and prepared to charge. Sensing his intent the cat-creature coiled up on its haunches, bearing its foot long teeth that were still stained by the blood of the last person it killed.

He started to push off when many things happened all at once, the glass to his right shattered as something shot through it, a wooden pole seemed to sprout from the shoulder of the creature, a man in metal armor appeared out of thin air, grabbed the pole, pulling it free to reveal a foot long blade that had been buried in the flesh of the thing. With cat like reflexes the creature jumped and spun, lashing out with its too long arm and the massive, curved claws cut through the air where the man had been standing. But now, somehow, he was behind the creature and, in a single spin of his spear, cut off the creature’s tail. Two more lightning fast swipes severed its arms like he was butchering it before a final thrust punctured its skull.

\-\-\-\-\-

Orlan took a breath, pulling his spear free of the beast’s brain and flicking it clean as he looked over at the two officers.

“You two would make good mages,” he remarked with a grin, they simply blinked at him, “you need first aid?”

This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author's consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.

“Uh, n-no,” the injured officer replied, “plenty of aid kits around.”

“Great, my girls are going to clear the tarmac south of here,” Orlan continued as dozens of eyes peeked out from their hiding spots, “as soon as you see an opening, run for it. If you can make it over the highway you should be safe, national guard has been setting up there. Got it?”

The officers simply nodded at him, he gave them another grin before turning and running deeper into the airport.

“The creatures resemble Clawed Jungle Lions, but with an artic fur for some reason,” Nallia’s voice said in his mind, “most of them are tier two, but we’ve seen several that have broken through into tier three.”

“Odd to see such a familiar beast from a rift,” Orlan replied, rounding the corner to find a couple more of the beasts feasting on what was, fortunately, unrecognizable as a human. They were a bit smaller than the first he’d fought, and this time when he threw his spear he hit one in the neck, killing it instantly. The second didn’t last much longer as he took it down in a couple swings.

“It was always suspected that the Clawed Jungle Lions were monsters, not natural animals, due to a lack of related species,” Nallia spoke, “this simply confirms it.”

“The Naturalist Guild will be thrilled,” Orlan replied over the telepathic channel in a dry tone, “there’s a group of people in the southern end of this building, can you clear a path for them to run to the national guard?”

“Shouldn’t be too hard,” Lailra replied, “most of us landed a bit short of where you are but we’ll catch up soon.”

“Be careful, Lord,” Nallia added, “my spells are picking up something odd closer to the rift.”

“An alpha?” Orlan asked, already dashing down another hall.

“Perhaps, hard to tell, these beasts are rather hard to pick up with magic, especially at long range,” she explained, “could be a pack of tier three beasts, or a few tier four who have a shrouding ability.”

“I can handle a couple tier four long armed cats.”

“Please, don’t,” Lailra pleaded, “we’ve no easy way back to the island, meaning we can’t rely on getting back for magical healing.”

“I’ll be careful,” Orlan promised, jumping over a crushed counter of a coffee shop and driving his spear into the back of the beast that was too busy rummaging around to notice him. Probably the coffee grounds overwhelming its nose, he figured, not turning down the opening.

“For survivors, I’m seeing only a few scattered individuals across the main airport,” Nallia continued, “there are a few groups in the separate buildings, but you probably ran into the largest group.”

“Should we assist the, you called them National Guard?” Pela asked suddenly over the telepathic channel, “their guns are drawing in a lot of the beasts.”

“Lailra,” Orlan ordered, “take two others with you to hold the line, we’re going to use the National Guard as the anvil to our hammer.”

“Can’t have them breaking,” Lailra agreed, “then Pela and Nallia, with me.”

“The rest of you, form teams of two or three and sweep the outlying buildings for survivors, avoid large groups of beasts if you can, eliminate or draw away those you can’t,” Orlan continued, “once we’ve got as many out as we can we’ll group up and go after that alpha.”

“Yes, Lord Orlan,” came a chorus of mental replies.

\-\-\-\-\-

“Don’t focus too many guns on one target!” Lieutenant Leewald shouted to be heard over the roar of multiple fifty caliber machine guns. The heavy, anti-material rounds were enough to drive the creatures back, but didn’t seem able to kill them, or at least not quickly. The idea of a living creature that found fifty cal only painful, but not lethal, was hard to imagine, but he supposed he didn’t have to imagine any more.

He'd been briefed on ‘anti creature tactics’ repeatedly over the last couple years, ever since the things started appearing. Every time another portal opened the analysts would alter those tactics, requiring more briefings and more training. He’d listened to the briefings, and done the training, but in the back of his mind he hadn’t actually expected to see a giant cat shrug off rounds from what was considered a light anti-tank bullet. Perhaps ‘shrug off’ was a bit overstating it, they yelped in pain and dove behind rocks or into ditches, often emerging with a modest wound, but they weren’t reduced to bloody chunks like the bullet should have.

The chainguns of the Bradelys were better, but it still took a good moment of directed fire to ensure a creature would stay down, and those things chewed through ammo. And it didn’t help that some of the creatures seemed even tougher for some reason, treating the chainguns like the rest of them treated the fifties.

“LT,” a voice drew his attention, “some of the men reported seeing a figure, well, flying through the air and crashing into the southern terminal.”

“What?” Leewald asked.

“Said it looked like superman or something,” the private shrugged, “we’ve also got a group of people running this direction from the East.”

“More survivors?”

“No… they’re running fast… faster than people should run. And, apparently, they’re killing the creatures,” the man said, looking over his shoulder for a moment, “do you think it’s that protector guy?”

“Isn’t he way out near Bermuda or something?”

“Our Lord found a way to make it here,” a woman’s voice responded and, in a burst of flames, the most beautiful woman Leewald had ever seen appeared next to him. She wore a long red dress that was covered strategically in finely engraved metal plates, somehow managing to straddle the line between evening dress and armor. Arching one of her eyebrows at him she asked, “are you in charge here?”

“Lieutenant Leewald, ma’am,” the LT nodded.

“Lieutenant? You don’t look like navy,” she remarked, looking him over before shaking her head, “as I was saying, Lord Orlan managed to arrive in time to assist, I’m here to reinforce your position. From now on your main goal is to provide a secure point for survivors to escape to.”

“With all due respect,” Leewald said, shaking off her beauty and sudden appearance, “we don’t take orders from… whatever it is you are.”

Just as he was about to continue a wave of translucent green vines rose up in front of the national guard line, diving forward over the ground. Dozens of the creatures were swept up in the tide, thorns from the almost ghostly vines dug into their flesh, and wherever blood was drawn the flesh and skin would begin to rot away.

“A secure fallback point? You got it,” Leewald corrected himself, turning to the private, “tell everyone to dig in, I want an aid station and space for survivors set up.”

“Sir,” the private nodded, finally tearing his eyes away from the woman and running off to relay the orders. Leewald turned back just in time to see the woman rising into the air, standing on a cloud of flames and smoke, a lance of fire made solid shooting out to impale one of the few creatures that escaped the vines. Shaking his head he grabbed his radio to issue more orders.

\-\-\-\-\-

“My lord,” Nallia’s voice came suddenly nearly an hour later, “that anomaly I sensed is on the move.”

“Shit,” Orlan swore aloud before asking on the telepathic channel, “where is it heading?”

“Right for you,” she answered, “and quickly, you’ve got a minute or two, tops.”

“I’m going outside,” Orlan said as he ran towards the nearest large glass window, stepping through space and reappearing in the air beyond it, falling towards the tarmac a story below him, “can anyone make it here?”

“We’ve got our hands full protecting the army,” Lailra spoke up.

“No one can make it to you before it arrives,” Nallia added.

“I don’t see anything behind me,” Orlan said as his feet hit the ground and he continued running, putting distance between himself and the gates.

“It’s in the building you just left, still on your tail.”

Cursing under his breath Orlan ran, his feet leaving imprints in the solid concrete as he picked up speed. Seconds later he heard a loud crash behind him, glancing back he saw at least five creatures that, while similar looking to the rest of the beasts they’d fought, were each half again as large.

“Not an alpha, a pack of stronger beasts,” Orlan said as the beasts sprinted after him, “looks like they’re easily tier four, I’m not going to be able to outrun them.”

As he spoke he skid to a halt, spinning his spear and entering a defensive stance to prepare for their arrival.

“My lord! Back!” Nallia’s voice shouted in his mind, and Orlan replied without hesitation, jumping backwards five feet. Just as he did he felt and saw something tear through where he’d just been, striking the ground a good forty feet away in an explosion of dust and rock.

“The hell,” Orlan asked, glancing in the direction the attack had come from for a moment, not seeing anything before he was forced to return his gaze to the oncoming beasts.

“Aira is on her way, should be with you in five minutes,” Lailra said in his mind, “hold out until then.”

“I think someone is taking shots at me,” Orlan replied, “southwest of my position, a sniper.”

“There was mana in that attack,” Nallia agreed, “I could barely sense it though.”

“Great,” Orlan grumbled, ducking as the first of the stronger beasts swiped at him, lifting his spear to cut the underside of the long, sloth like arm, barely managing to draw blood before he had to step aside to avoid another attack from a different beast. At least in this melee, the sniper would have a hard time getting a shot, he though dryly to himself as he fought.