“C’mon guys… I’m trying to help you out here…”
Nicholas List, lieutenant, US Combined Armed Forces, Death’s Dancer when on mission, had removed his American flag skull mask.
There were a lot of slashers with some variation on the skull facemask or helmet.
The neighborhood militia had guns, wands and fingers pointed his way.
The only reason they hadn’t fired again was the handful of guys down, non-lethally, around his boots. Plus, he had already taken a few shots. They’d torn holes in his clothes, but had bounced off his chestplate and bulletproof skin.
“Look, some of you check the world event page. You’ll find me on your side, not theirs. ‘Nicholas List’.”
He watched a few eyes glaze over.
“What do you want?” a hard-eyed old woman said.
“I’ve heard rumors about Lindsay Taylor, the fat clown at the top of the slashers scoreboard, sending kids messages. I was hoping they could try sharing them with me. I’m looking for the bastard. Could use some clues.”
“It doesn’t work that way. Direct messages can’t be shared. We’ve tried.”
“Then, can I talk to them? Ask some questions?”
A loud pop came from the south, not too far away.
The neighborhood had been pretty quiet since a burst of violence at about the same time Death’s Dancer had sneaked over the makeshift wall.
“Anything they can remember about what’s in the background of his videos.”
“We’ve already tried that. We got nothing except forcing our kids to relive the trauma. If you really want to help then stay out of our neighborhood and keep watch outside. Stop the clown before he can murder us all.”
“Meanwhile he goes elsewhere and murders those people.”
“Either they get fucked or we do.”
Death’s Dancer put his skull mask on.
“Send me a message if he attacks. I can’t promise anything, but I’ll try to make it in time.”
With that he leapt over the houses.
The super jump carried him a few blocks away.
A mutated bird swooped from his blind spot, but he twisted, grabbing it by the neck and snapping it before it could even squawk.
More monsters waited down below.
He scattered them with a feathery missile.
Short spears came out in a flash.
He headed to the rendezvous point, leaving death in his wake.
Hopefully, the eidolon had more luck.
The high end slashers had been killing too many people, gaining too many points.
Every kid that turned up on the kill list was like a blade in the gut.
He had orders, but maybe it was time to reach out to some of the other people going after slashers and protecting the locals. There were a few recognizable names and faces. Some he seemed to vaguely remember from the slavery thing. Some he only knew about through dubious intel scouting reports.
His thoughts turned to the world outside the hazy barrier keeping Vancouver isolated.
No Relentless. No other guy he always struggled to remember. None of the really heavy hitters had made it into the city.
They would’ve acted by now if they had.
Which meant those other world events must’ve been just as bad or worse.
He wondered how, Rico, Lt. Johnny, and the team were doing.
The last communication they left at the dead drop had said that they were going to also turn their hunt to the clown.
“Shit…”
He was getting bad vibes about the fat fuck.
Judging by the slasher’s kill list, he entered a neighborhood or building and killed almost everyone inside.
The survivors didn’t last long.
Either monsters killed them or other slashers did.
Disgusting bunch of vultures.
Back at the neighborhood Death’s Dancer had just left Alcaestus stood with his hands raised.
The towering eidolon gave them his best wandering hero smile.
Bullets littered the road around his sandals.
He waited patiently while a runner went to fetch one of the neighborhood’s leaders.
The fact that he didn’t hear any fighting inside the makeshift walls suggested that the lieutenant had achieved some level of success.
Not much or inconclusive, judging by the fact that he was still standing amidst the rotting carcasses of monsters and spent bullets.
The varying rates of decay indicated that the neighborhood had been under siege since the beginning of the Slashers’ Spree.
The newest corpse were his doing.
Unfortunate that the people didn’t accept his gesture of good will and display of strength.
An old woman appeared on the wall and fixed him with a flinty glare.
He made the proper introduction.
Stated his name.
Why he was there.
He didn’t mention anything about Adras and the other Gods.
Experience had taught him that Earthians didn’t tend to be receptive to such discourse. Rather than be intrigued, they viewed him with suspicion at best and hostility at worse.
“You with that American killer?”
“Yes, loosely, we move apart so as to cover more ground and help more communities like your own. I take it you have accept our offer?”
“No. Sent him packing.”
“Ah… unfortunate. We only want to save lives and slay the evil ones.”
She regarded him.
He had tamped down on the divinity emanating from his body so as to avoid making them think that he was purposefully manipulating them to his side.
No one across the worlds appreciated being manipulated by an outside force.
She regarded the piles of fresh-killed monsters.
“What will it take to get you to protect us?”
“I protect all that are in need. Such is the way of Adras and all his faithful.”
“I meant, just us. We’ll pay you to stick around and do… that.” She spread her arms to encompass the carcass-littered street.
“I cannot. There are many like you that need protection. If you are in grave danger send me a direct message and I will come with all the divine strength of Adras, strongest of the Gods, in my blood.”
“That’s what the American said. No use in begging,” she sighed.
“Do not let fear seep into your hearts. Fear gives you the opportunity to be brave—”
“Save the lectures, young man. We know that. We’ve been brave for over a week. It isn’t bravery we’re running low on.”
“Ah, I understand. Perhaps, I may be able to procure said supplies. Of what are you in need?”
She gave a bitter laugh.
“Everything. But, if you’re legit. Then ammo and mana potions are at the top of the list. Followed by medical stuff. We’re good on water and food.”
The list was the same at the other settlements he had visited.
Experienced fighters understood how quickly ammunition was depleted in a battle.
It was a testament to the Earthians preparedness that they were only running low after a week of nearly round the clock battle.
“I shall do my best to bring you the aid you need. On my name as Adras’ Will.” He banged fist to chest, creating a resounding thud that echoed across the city.
“If you’re for real, then we’d appreciate it.” The old woman’s gaze softened as her shoulder sagged slightly from her stiff-backed stance. “We’ll be sending that message to you and that American if the clown shows up. I can only pray that you’re good for your word.”
“We shall keep it, lest we have already been felled.”
Al would try, but the strongest slashers could work with surprising quickness. Even with his speed and leaping ability. It might take over a minute to arrive. And that could be an eternity for the slasher and their victims.
The eidolon and the soldier met in a gun store a few kilometers away from the neighborhood.
“No luck?” Death’s Dancer said.
“Just as it was for you,” Alcaestus said.
The eidolon had to turn sideways and duck to get inside.
Death’s Dancer had already pulled several boxes of ammunition from the back of the store.
“Figures. Must be something about my face that isn’t trustworthy.”
“And mine.”
“Nah, your face is fine. Big, dumb smile all the time. It’s cause you’re huge… and the lavender skin and purple hair might be a little weird.”
Alcaestus grunted as he went to the back and emerged with more boxes.
They had claimed the store several days ago and were spending their own points to replenish the stock to full each night in preparation.
“You think this’ll buy enough good will to get some cooperation?”
“If not trust, then the desire to remain armed will inspire more.”
“Not much time left though. Just about three weeks left and the closer it gets to the end the worse those murderers are going to be.”
“I’m a hunter. Though of the wild lands, not of cities. Predators are a cautious lot until they are driven to desperation. These slashers are like them in a sense, though their greed will push them take risks greater than even the oldest, hungriest razor cat in the forest.”
“Well, if we get desperate then we can try your bait plan.”
“Your worth in points isn’t that far off from mine, friend.”
“You’re obviously the better target.”
“Agreed. It would simplify things if they would just cooperate and attack me as I walk slowly through the city.”
Death’s Dancer laughed.
“Should’ve made a better show of it rather than crushing the first few morons that tried you. Even the dumber ones are going to be wary now.”
They ferried boxes of ammunition out of the back until the front of the store was full.
It didn’t take them long since both could lift tons with ease the only limiting factor was how many boxes they could fit in their arms and through the door.
“I shall bring what was promised to the neighborhood we just visited,” Al said.
“Cool. I guess I can take few boxes to the one on the way to the dead drop,” Death’s Dancer said. “Then I’m going hunting tonight. You?”
“I shall do the same.”
“Might reach out to those people.”
“A wise decision. They appear to be pursuing the same goals as us. The herd often finds safety in numbers. Perhaps, we should attempt to persuade the weaker settlements to head north to that fort on the river.”
“I don’t know, bro. Everywhere’s basically a death zone. Easy for someone like us, but noncombatants? Women? Kids?”
“They have vehicles. If they don’t have enough, we can bring them more. Then it’s a simple matter of escorting them like guardian dogs.”
“The roadblocks…”
“We both have the strength to break them down quickly.”
“Stopping for even a second could mean death.”
“That is also true.”
“Hence, reaching out. They appear to have a way to transport people from the looks of it.”
“You seek my approval? I’m not opposed. And I hold no command over you.”
Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel.
Death’s Dancer shrugged. “I have orders not to make contact.”
“What do I care for those?”
“If they came from the Eidolon of Sunor?”
“She didn’t speak of them to me. Thus, it’s irrelevant.”
“They didn’t. I was just checking.”
“My orders, if you would call them that, are simple. ‘Do as you will’.”
“I’m jealous.”
Al held up a fist.
“I—”
“I hear monsters approaching.”
He beat Death’s Dancer to it.
They ran on rough pads and claws that clicked on the road.
“Right, you heard them first, so they’re all yours.”
Al heard the grin behind the mask as Death’s Dancer vanished from even his sight.
Not so from his ears as the man’s steps, though soft for their size, scuffed the cheap carpet.
The eidolon smashed the monsters then headed to make the first of his deliveries.
The Earthians would soon know great thanks that the very servant of a God had deigned to grant them a boon.
----------------------------------------
The cultists had set up their little sacrificial circle in the basement of a firehouse.
They never got to use it because Howard and his team got lucky and caught them bringing the first victims back in the dead of night.
Shits had used the chaos of a free-for-all at an apartment building to sneak in and out with a couple of kids and one baby.
It stuck a bit in Howard’s craw that he was the slowest and least stealthy member of his team.
Fortunately, the cultists were even worse.
They were too excited to bring their victims to notice the five shadows following them through the dark city streets only illuminated by the periodic flashes of light from explosions.
Dancessassin hit first, coming out of tree’s shadow to slice in a whirl of blade and claws right through the middle of the cultist formation.
Black Cat pounced from a rooftop, crushing a cultist before shredding others with his claws like a black-furred blender. The kid had real claws unlike Howard’s glorified finger nails. The hybrid was also stronger, quicker, more agile, better in every physical way really.
Shootystabby flickered in and cut the cultists carrying the kids while Twice Clever Fox ran in with that spinning, flipping, flowing movie martial arts crap, yet somehow came out of the scrum with all three kids in her arms.
The fox-masked woman stepped into the sky to take the kids to the shuttle.
They’d have to wait and see if the kids still had parents to bring them back to.
Just like that, 20 dark robed cultists were done and dusted.
“ID. later.” Howard kicked the door of the firehouse open and swept his semi-auto, sawed-off shotgun across the darkness.
He sniffed.
The iron tang was coming from behind him. All he got from the inside was the scent of old and dusty.
“Stabby, Black Cat, upstairs. Dancessassin, you and me are going down.”
He saw the weird circle in the middle of the basement right away.
It was hard to make out details in the dark despite his natural night vision and the helmet’s enhanced visual modes, so he turned on the lights.
Twin beams opened from the sides of his helmet.
Dancessassin shied away.
Her cloak wasn’t a fan of the light.
“Record.”
He deliberately panned his gaze across the small, shallow pit dug out of the concrete.
“It looks like they used the concrete and rocks from elsewhere to make the pillars. Does this look familiar to you?”
Magic writing always looked like gibberish to him. It wasn’t that he couldn’t understand it because he was ignorant and hadn’t made an effort to learn what symbols meant. It was because they were an ever-shifting array of lines, shapes, squiggles that sometimes resembled letters and pictures.
“Like the other places,” Dancessassin said.
“C’mon, we need to record those cultists faces.”
It was their first lead on the sacrificial circles that the boss had first come across in Tokyo.
“Should’ve taken one alive.”
“Yeah… yeah we should’ve. That’s on me.”
“Next time.”
Howard filmed the dead cultists and took DNA samples before they burned the bodies.
The only notable thing on them was the scarification on their bodies.
A lot of crosses and crosses surrounded by halos or rings of fire.
Some looked to be brand new.
Probably, some sick shit, like, they carved one each time the went out to do ‘God’s’ will or some nonsense.
Fucking sanctimonious bastards. Always using God to excuse getting off on their evil.
He would’ve left them there for the monsters, but he couldn’t risk it. Nor take them all the way to the coroner’s office or one of the morgues to put in a freezer for future investigation. Not with a necromancer roaming around. Best to turn them into ash.
As for the three kids?
Well… they turned out to be the lucky ones in a sense.
They were alive, but their families were dead.
Their home was ablaze as people killed people on the streets while monsters went after all.
Howard did the only thing he could.
He dropped them off in Hayden’s lap.
Then it was back in the shuttle to look for that fucking clown.
“I got something on the message boards,” Wet said. “Neighborhoods in the southeast corner, between a park and the beach. Its a clusterfuck.”
“When ain’t it one of those, eh?” Howard grunted.
“Soldiers fighting soldiers and something about the ‘Commies’?”
“Well… haven’t heard that one in a while.”
“That’s not the clown’s style,” Dayana said. “But, any of the weaker slashers would love to sneak in under the chaos. Or we might find more of that cult.”
“I’m hopeful there are no more of those. Fanatics are the worst opponent for they do not know when they are beaten,” Twice Clever Fox said.
“Marian?” Howard called to the cockpit.
“Yeah, boss?”
“Take us there.”
“On it.”
The shuttle lurched as the thrusters fired once then shut off.
Float stones meant it didn’t need its engines on to stay in the sky.
They reached the war zone in a few minutes.
----------------------------------------
Kat and Songbird found the first dead body about 15 minutes after the last person they had rescued from the apartment building had stepped off the ramp down to Hayden’s park fort.
The latter was doing one last walk-through of the cargo area they had put the people in for the short flight for any stragglers or stowaways while the former watched her back.
Blood dripped out of a storage locker down to the metal floor.
The body tumbled out as Songbird opened the locker.
A moment of shocked silence came over them.
“Checking files.” Songbird said. “Got a match. Travis Brunson. We just picked him up. I don’t understand.”
Kat spoke urgently into the general channel.
“This is Ranger Sword Weeb. Emergency alert. Dead body discovered in Cargo Bay 1. Sending image.”
“This is your captain. Lockdown protocols are in effect. All rangers to their stations. Full kit. Buddy system in effect. Squads begin sweep for intruders.”
The captain’s voice swept over the comms without hesitation.
“Songbird, Sword Weeb,” the captain said to the two of them. “Get out of there and watch the doors until one of the squads reaches you. Fall back to the nearest station if the threat presents itself.”
“Yes, sir!”
They exited the cargo bay cautiously.
Kat moved her katana from her back to her waist. The magnetic locking system made it easy. She kept her carbine at the ready.
The corridor meant they only had two avenues of approach to worry about.
“Back to back?” Songbird had her pistol in her hands and a short blade at her belt.
“Sounds good.”
Kat’s heart hammered in her chest as she kept one eye on the small map in the corner of her HUD tracking the ID. tags of the other rangers as they made their way to her position.
Combat with monsters was one thing, but this was with what had to be a high level slasher if they were able to get on board undetected.
On the other side of the ship in the fully-equipped gourmet kitchen Sous-chef Brianna held the emergency shotgun in sweaty hands. She had cause to regret signing up all to speed up her progress to a full chef.
Cook Terrence, not Terry, stood at her back with his personal pistol. Like the vast majority of people they had basic combat training and had even spent a good amount of time on the walls shooting at monsters.
However, not all combat situations were equal.
As the few non-ranger crew on the skyship lockdown protocols for them meant staying in their quarters and locking the doors or staying where they were and locking the doors.
The kitchen had two doors.
One out the back to the service tunnel leading to the cargo bays and one at the front to the mess hall.
She peeked through the window to remind herself that they weren’t alone.
Rangers F-light— she refused to say his full name after she had learned what it referred to— and Diamond Hands. Two men, one as young as her and one as old as her grandfather.
“There should be rangers watching the back door,” Terrence hissed.
It was high stress, life or death situations that reminded her how young he really was.
“The door is solid metal with multiple deadbolts. Plus, there are cameras everywhere. Anything tries it we’ll know right away. Then the rangers can go take care of it.”
“Um, sure, just, uh, maybe you could face that way since you’ve got the bigger gun, er, chef… please?”
Brianna gave the teen a curt nod.
The ranger squad sweeping the starboard side of the skyship found a pair of dead bodies.
Ranger Morningstar’s eyes went cold.
His first thought was of his sister.
Luzi was adopted and annoying… then again so was he to be honest… regardless he took a moment to check on her and was relieved to see that she was still where she was at one of the port gunner’s stations with other rangers.
He switched to a channel just for command staff and the squad sweeping the port side.
“Two KIA. Bullet through the eye.” He checked their equipment. Most importantly, their comms gear hadn’t been taken. “Comms not compromised.”
Ranger Strut and Ranger Mango hadn’t been on duty so they weren’t in full kit.
They were armed, but their guns and clubs were still in their holsters.
“The shot detectors didn’t pick up anything,” Ranger Jurassic, the bridge security officer, said.
“Review the tapes, sir. This is weird slasher bullcrap.”
“Will do. Continue your sweep sergeant.”
“What about Strut and Mango?”
“I’ve got a camera on them. We’ll grab them after you neutralize the threat.”
“Understood, continuing sweep.”
The port side squad passed the gunner’s station after confirming everything was green on the inside through hand signals through the window.
Luzi went back to the others to fill them in.
The rangers went back to their jobs. Just because lockdown protocols were on didn’t mean they didn’t need to man the weapons just in case they were needed.
Luzi and Victor had just about finished their shift when the lockdown had forced them to stay. Since they were superfluous that meant they got to watch the door.
“Your brother’s fine. We’re only in yellow alert,” Victor said.
“I know—”
The siren suddenly blared as red lights flashed briefly.
Back on the bridge Jurassic reviewed the video.
It didn’t make sense.
Mango and Strut had come across a civilian.
There was a conversation.
The civilian calmly raised a silenced pistol and shot the rangers.
They hadn’t reacted at all.
Plus, even a silenced pistol should’ve been picked up by the shot detectors.
Which, it had when he checked the log.
The alert was right there.
He had been sitting at his station at the time. He should’ve noticed.
Ranger Morningstar was right.
Slasher bullshit!
He told the captain, who hit the red alert.
“This is the captain speaking. Threat identified. Likely slasher. Small, slight man in a gray, three-piece business suit. Armed with a silenced pistol. Do not interact. Do not apprehend. Kill on sight. I repeat kill on sight.” Captain Molds shut the channel to address her bridge. “Damn it! I’m looking at a picture of him and I can’t bring myself to give a more detailed description.”
“The spell detectors didn’t go off, so it’s probably a Skill. Mental influence or compulsion?” Jurassic said.
“Take us up to max altitude. Tell Hayden we can’t provide overwatch until this is resolved. I want everyone on the cameras looking for this shit. Patch Mrs. Cruces into everything. Ask her if Threnosh tech can do anything about this. And have everyone get in full kit if they can.”
The slasher could shoot a ranger in full armor all day with his little pistol.
Gob and Lee were in the mess with six other rangers when the initial alarm went out.
They were off duty so they headed for their quarters.
The red alert had them reconsider their destination.
A quick discussion sent them to the armory seeing as how the distance was about the same as to their quarters and they’d feel much better about being in a closed environment with a slasher when they had full armor and better weapons than their sidearms.
They ran into him in the corridor.
A small, slight man in a gray suit.
They couldn’t pick up anything about his face aside from the round-rimmed glasses and a smile like a best friend’s.
The captain’s orders had been clear.
Yet, guns stayed in their holsters, hands off their weapons.
“Hi, excuse me, I seem to be lost,” the man said shyly.
The captain’s orders. The red alert. That there shouldn’t have been random men roaming the skyship.
Facts fled their thoughts.
“I’m hoping you can point me in the direction of the, um, bridge… that’s what it’s called right? Where you control this magnificent ship from? It is truly amazing! Like walking in a movie! I’d love to hear more about it while you take me there.”
He had walked right up to them.
“Yeah, it’s pretty cool. We’ll take you to the bridge, but there’s a lockdown,” Lee said.
The rangers made room for the man so that they could keep him safe in the middle of their formation.
It wouldn’t do to expose one of their best friends, a civilian to possible danger.
Gob ended up in the front of the formation listening to their friend’s soothing voice.
“So, friend, how does this lockdown work?”
“Pretty standard. Doors are locked and they don’t open them,” Lee said.
“Not even for you?”
“Nope. Not unless it’s some kind of crazy emergency like there was a monster on us.”
“I noticed that not all doors have windows… does the bridge’s?”
“Yeah, but the blast plates will probably be down.”
“Ah… unfortunate that.”
Gob heard a pop.
He and Ranger Byte turned.
Lee was slumped against the corridor wall.
The pistol in their best friend’s hand smoked.
They made no move to draw their own weapons.
“I’m going to find another way. Thank you fine young men and women for the brief escort. The information you shared may be useful.”
Such a gentleman, their best friend was.
The glasses glinted in the light as he leisurely took aim and placed a round in Ranger Shy Girl’s eye.
Then another in Ranger Pox’s.
“I appear to be down to my last round. Your guns wouldn’t happen to be in 9mm?”
“Sorry.” Gob felt bad for letting his best friend down by having a Glock chambered in .45 cal.
Ranger Byte shook his head as well.
“Oh well… maybe the next ones.”
Their gentleman best friend drew a thin dagger, drawing a lazy line across Byte’s neck.
“You, my friend, aren’t worth much, but points are points. Imagine how many I’ll get when I turn this magnificent flying ship’s weapons on them.”
Gob felt the sting. Followed by hot liquid pouring down his chest.
“You really shouldn’t have taken my victims from me.”
His body went limp.
Black crept around the edges of his vision.
The cold metal floor pressed on his cheek.
Clarity jolted him.
The gentleman wasn’t a friend!
What the hell!
He clamped a hand around his throat.
A Skill kept him alive longer than he should’ve.
He rolled over, couldn’t talk, so he hit the panic button on his ear piece.
Vision grew blurry as he saw the slasher walking down the corridor.
Small, slight man in a gray business suit.
He felt for his Glock.
Drew it, aimed with a shaking arm and squeezed the trigger just as his vision finally went black.