"When the Trumpets Fall Silent"
Sep. 14th, 2024 04:04 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
dochermes"When the Trumpets Fall Silent"
9/6-9/8/2015
I
For nearly a hundred years, the ten-story stone building on East 38th Street had seen many strange and even bizarre figures walk up to its front door. This pleasant September evening at exactly midnight, it saw yet another one. People stepped aside on the sidewalk not from apprehension but from sympathy, thinking that here was an elderly man afflicted with arthritis.
He would have been six feet tall if he had stood fully upright, but he was bent forward and leaning on a thick wooden cane. A long white coat hanging loosely from his shoulders disguised how powerful that broad body was, how thickly muscled the long arms and short bow legs must be. Clench wore a wide-brimmed slouch hat pulled low. His immense feet wore shoes that had to have been handmade. Ignoring stares, he moved easily up the six steps in front of a door that read "KDF 28" and pressed the bell.
Seconds later, a reserved female voice came through a speaker behind a panel over the door, "Hello there. can we help you?"
"Hello, I'm Clarence Ambrose. Clench?"
"Oh sure. Just a minute."
With buzzes and clicks that suggested multiple alarms and locks being turned off, the massive door swung outward on its own. The man who had called himself Clench stepped into a small vestibule which contained only a bench with a few magazines on it, a wall lamp and a life-sized oil portrait of a middle-aged gnomish man. The tab beneath read, KENNETH DRED 1900-1979.
Laying his cane on the bench, he shrugged off the coat and placed it down as well.
Immediately, Clench dropped to stand with his weight supported on stiff arms with his fists pressed down on the floor. This posture looked entirely reasonable for someone built that way. Simian comparisons were inevitable. The strange man looked as if he would weigh nearer three hundred pounds than two hundred, but he was not fat. His body and limbs seemed solid muscle. He was wearing loose navy blue sweatpants and an equally baggy sweatshirt that was canary yellow with blue side panels His oversized hands and feet were bare. The man had a wide, homely face under a thick thatch of light brown hair but his expression was amiable enough.
As he sighed with relief at not having to stand upright, Clench cocked his head. All around him sounded a deep, nearly subliminal hum. His skin tingled. Was he being X-rayed? Then the inner door swung open toward him and he swung around. Standing in the doorway were two women and a man.
Timothy Limbo he had met a month earlier. A bit under six feet tall and fit looking, the blond young man was wearing a plain white T-shirt, worn out jeans and biker boots. To his left was a dark-haired woman about forty, arms folded across her chest, watching him with a cold appraising gaze.
But it was the other woman that got his full attention. She was tiny, not much over five feet tall and thin, wearing a tight suit of grey shark-hide. Under short bristly white hair, cloudy dark blue eyes glared at him as if she was eager to attack. The woman slapped the flat of a long bone-bladed knife against one palm, which did not make her less threatening.
"Hey there," said Clench hopefully. "Sorry to drop in so late, but someone told me you guys are mostly active late at night and so many lights were on in the windows, so..."
"Oh, I remember YOU," Timothy interrupted. "As soon as we met, you kicked me in the head and kidnapped me!"
"Well, yeah, but let's not live in the past," the apelike man replied. "So, about why I'm here, maybe we can sit down to talk about it."
"I'm Sable, captain of this team," said the dark-haired woman. "Stand down, Jin. i don't think our visitor is any immediate threat."
Reluctantly, scowling all the time, Demrak Jin slid her weapon into a flat ivory sheath across her back. "Whatever you say," she growled.
Sable moved forward a step. "Adrenalin levels in your perspiration and your heartbeat are only slightly elevated. Muscle tension is normal, as are your pupils. I'm sure you didn't come here to attack us."
"You're puttin' me on," Clench said. "How do you know all that?"
"We all have our gifts. All right, come on in and tell us what's on your mind."
Escorted warily by all three KDF members, Clench loped in his unusual way across the front hall, past the wide staircase leading up, through an open door into the conference room. To the right, a desk sat against a wall under a gorgeous hand-painted map of the world as it had been in 1937. A long, brown leather couch sat in the middle of the room, with six simple wooden chairs scattered about. Against the far wall to the left was a chest high bookcase filled with reference books and on its top a coffee pot with accessories and a tray of Danishes. The air was cool and dry, the lighting subdued.
"Have a seat facing the couch," Sable offered. "Mr Ambrose, you should be aware we have no reason to be cordial. I annotated the report that Timothy filed when he got back from his...encounter."
"True, true," Clench replied. "Sorry about all that. You know my family is, well, maybe you could call us mutants. Except instead of stray genes changing naturally, we were changed by our mother's sorcery. She WAS a head witch of Red Sect, after all."
"And..." interrupted Timothy, "She ordered me abducted to stage a fake marriage and wanted me to get her pregnant! And she's seventy years old!"
Clenched waved a broad hairy hand dismissively. "I thought we were past all that."
"What are you TALKING about?! 'Past all that'...?"
"Timothy, stand down," said Sable. "Take a seat. We have to be professional. Mr Ambrose, we'll hear you out."
"Fair enough, fair enough," the visitor said. "Ahem. Anyway, my family left the area recently. Grandma wanted to get a fresh start out West. But I decided to stay here. I've heard an awful lot of wild stories about the Kenneth Dred Foundation. You're knights of Tel Shai. Everyone says you're the greatest heroes the Midnight War had ever seen."
"And...?" asked Sable.
"Look at me, ma'am. You can imagine it's hard for me to get a regular job. When I go to apply anywhere, they all hide in the back. But I do have powers and abilities far beyond those of mortal men--"
"Oh, brother," Tim groaned.
"I looked up records. I'm more than twice as strong as the record-holding weightlifter. I'm nimble and agile as an acrobat or Olympic gymnast. My toes are prehensile enough to tie and untie knots. I have a lot to offer."
"Wait," said Sable, "You're not saying...?"
"You bet, I want to join the KDF."
II.
"This doesn't look like a typical suicide," Agent McGuinn said.
Standing in the doorway next to him, Agent McGuire studied the gruesome scene. Lying on its back horizontally across a double bed was a man's corpse with most of the back of its head scattered. Blood and gore covered half the bedspread. "The late Albert Murdaugh, aged forty-one. Care to elaborate?" she asked.
McGuire was average in height and build, with a bland face under medium brown hair with a few scattered flecks of white in it. It would be hard to give a useful description of him. He lowered his service revolver and returned it to its holster at the left side of his belt beneath the suit jacket. "Good observation. There's a number of immediate obvious items, McGuinn. He's in his boxers and T-shirt, for one thing. His glasses are on the night stand, along with his phone... which is still being charged."
Lynne McGuinn was the same height as her partner, also rather unremarkable in appearance aside from a dark red perm, but she seemed to be in her mid-twenties while he was a rather weathered fifty. "And most indoor suicides tidy everything up first, I believe. They usually put on good clothes and make the site presentable. There's a plate there with a half-eaten sandwich, a crumpled napkin and an empty bottle of seltzer. Okay, go on."
"You notice the bottom drawer of the nightstand is open. He could have reached it from where he is. Almost certainly, that's where his gun was."
"I spotted the gun in the corner over there," McGuinn said. "Looks like a basic Glock. Right now, it seems it was thrown there by reaction to the shot."
McGuire had taken out his cell phone and was taking photos. "What's your opinion, could he have been murdered and everything set up to look like it was suicide?"
"No... no, I don't think so. The way he still had the blanket around his legs, the way nothing was disturbed. I mean, it's possible two strong men could have held him steady and shot him but it seems unlikely. What about a suicide note, McGuire?"
"They're less common every year," he said. "At least, handwritten notes on a piece of paper. Many suicides these days send an email or message someone right before doing the act. I don't want to search for his phone. We're going to turn this over to the local police."
"We are?! Why?"
McGuire's subdued voice held the sorrow of someone reluctantly giving the worst news. "Because we're going to be very busy, McGuinn, this death is only the beginning..."
III.
The four of them stepped into the high-ceiling, well-lit gym. This took up most of the seventh floor of the KDF headquarters building. Lined up facing the windows showing 38th Street were three treadmills. A variety of Nautilus equipment took up most of the floor space. Walled off with a narrow open doorway was a co-ed locker room, three showers and several benches, with a toilet and sink in an enclosed stall.
The right hand side had a sparring area with a floor covered by padded mats; this was also used for practicing the Kumundu Doh Ra form. A rack on that wall displayed a variety of weapons, including Bo staffs, hard rubber knives and replica guns, as well as padded gloves and protective helmets.
Following Sable and Jin, who were flanking Clench, Timothy Limbo grumbled, " I don't know why we're even bothering with this character. He's never going to join, he's one of the bad guys and we should just throw him in a holding cell right this minute."
"Let's not be hasty," Sable said. She was dressed more formally than her teammates, wearing a dark brown pantsuit with a cream-colored blouse. "I'm still not reading any signs of hostility or tension. New members are hard to find and we could stand some new blood. All right, Mr Ambrose...."
"Please call me Clench. When you say, 'Mr Ambrose,' I look around to see who you're talking to."
"Fine. Why don't you treat this as a sort of audition and show us what you can do?"
The apelike man laughed outright. "I love showing off." He dropped down to the hardwood floor and did some pushups on one thumb, then swung his legs up to do a handstand on the other hand. The KDF members made no comment. Clench then jumped up to slam his feet against a bare section of the nearby wall at chest height and used the reaction to fling himself high enough to slap the ceiling with his open palm. He dropped down to the floor lightly as it stepping down off a curb.
"My reflexes are pretty good, also," he said. "I can't quite dodge bullets but I'm very hard to tag with a punch."
"Oh, we'll be sure to test that before we're done," Demrak Jin commented .
On the free weights, Clench demonstrated he could indeed clean and jerk three hundred and eighty pounds with a little effort. He did equally well on leg raises and extensions. On one of the treadmills, he ran full blast at a forty-five degree level for twenty minutes without being out of breath.
In an exceedingly grudging voice, Demrak Jin said, "He has the physical prowess to make a worthy warrior."
Sable glanced over at her. "From a Gelydra, that's the equivalent of wild praise. If Jin is impressed, Clench, that's a good sign."
"Captain!" broke in Tim. "You know I respect your opinion. But honestly, remember what this guy did. And where he comes from. One of the worst cults ever, Red Sect."
"It's okay, Tim, I'm never above questioning," Sable said. "I make plenty of mistakes. But Clench is not being rushed into membership. If we want to admit him, he'd have to be cleared by the Teachers at Tel Shai and some of them are telepaths."
"Yikes," muttered Clench, "Some of my thoughts are not exactly PG-13, ya know?"
Even Sable smiled at that. "Most of the Teachers are a hundred years old. Believe me, you're not going to shock them. They've seen everything."
Clench turned his pleasantly homely face toward Timothy. "I realize I never even apologized to you for what I did."
"Eh. You know now you were wrong," Tim said as he took a deep breath. "Hell. I guess I have to be magnanimous about this. Sure, let's give Clench here a chance as we get to know him better."
"That's all I ask."
IV.
It turned out that Clench not only didn't have anywhere to stay, he only had twenty dollars on him.
"In Manhattan, that'll buy maybe a doorway to sleep in," Tim observed. "I don't have an apartment because of the prices."
"The three of us are on the eleven PM to seven AM shift. It's not called Midnight War for no reason," Sable said. "When you're ready to turn in, Clench, Tim will show you to a guest room on the fifth floor. You can't stay here indefinitely, of course, but while we're considering your application, you might as well be comfortable."
Leaning forward on stiffened arms, Clench exhaled hard. "I'm exhausted, to be honest. Arguing with my family before we left and the bus trip here and all the worrying about my application. If nobody minds, I could go to bed right now."
"Fine. We do have our duties and chores. Tim?"
Timothy nodded and headed out of the gym, glancing over at their visitor to suggest he accompany him. Loping along behind him with his simian gait, Clench looked back in the doorway and said, "Thanks for everything."
The stairway was in the middle of the building, so the upper floors were each made up of a hollow rectangle of individual rooms separated by bookcases. The entire building housed bookcases crammed with the many thousands of rare volumes collected by Kenneth Dred over his long life. A few ornate benches and potted hanging plants brightened up the place.
"I understand this building was originally meant to be a luxury hotel in the late 19th Century," Timothy explained. "It's been mostly rebuilt of course, but these three floors are still individual suites and pretty comfortable."
"Books do furnish a room. I love reading but we could never afford many books," Clench said. "Heck, I'd be happy just staying on this floor and reading until I fell asleep every day. Maybe stopping to eat if I had to."
Timothy Limbo stopped in front of one of the unmarked doors and opened it. "Now, these are guest rooms we keep ready. There's toothpaste, shampoo, all that stuff in the bathroom." They stepped inside and he flicked on the light switch right by his hand. Most of these rooms had an identical layout. There was a queen sized bed over by the windows looking down at Lexington Avenue, a nightstand with three drawers and a lamp. By the head of each bed was a wall intercom. There was a desk with a computer, a dresser with a big mirror on its top and several comfortable chairs. On its wheeled cart was a TV. In the far wall were two doors, one for the closet and one for the bathroom. Some of the members brought in a small couch. Each member added individual touches such as standing lamps, throw rugs, framed photos or posters, etc but these guest quarters were undecorated.
Even so, the room made Clench whistle in admiration. "Man! I mean, you saw the shack I grew up in. This looks great!"
"Some of us live here full-time, some stay here when they're on duty," Tim said. "Um, the next shift takes over at seven. We usually meet in the kitchen for breakfast and to fill each other on what's going on. That'd be the best time for you to meet everyone."
"Great, great," Clench repeated. "Be honest, Tim, what do you think my chances are?
Pausing in the doorway on his way out, Timothy shrugged. "I don't know. Hard to say. We're not just a SWAT team or a bunch of paranormal investigators or real no-fooling super-heroes but a little of each at the same time. We only have maybe six or seven full-time members at any time. The job is real demanding. I guess we'll see."
Heading back down to the ground floor, Timothy returned to the office and found Sable and Jin were going over reports. The KDF maintained a network of observers around the world. Many of them had had their lives saved or the lives of loved ones by KDF members and felt a great debt. They watched for any mysterious or possibly supernatural goings-on and told the KDF all about it.
This practice had been started by KDF founder Jeremy Bane, who never accepted financial payback or rewards for what he did. The observers had stayed on with the KDF after Bane had stepped down. Many crucial missions had begun with a single phone call from someone who had seen something odd.
"Not much going on," Sable said as Tim entered. "Midnight War has been slack lately. How's our applicant?"
"He's settled into Guest Room 6. I'm getting used to him. And I did leave a Link next to the staircase. If he passes by it, we'll get an alert."
"Good thinking," said the team captain. "We haven't installed security cameras on the living quarters floors because we don't get enough privacy as it is."
Jin spoke up for the first time. "Megan wants us to wear devices which monitor our locations as well as our vital signs. That motion was strongly voted down." The Gelydra looked back and forth between her two partners. "Is he part gorilla? A hybrid of some kind?"
"No, no," Sable laughed, "I've been examining the Trom sensor scans. He's a modified Human. It looks like he was born that way." Sable held up the printout of stats. "Almost certainly his grandmother used gralic sorcery to mutate him while still in utero."
Demrak Jin was on the couch, going over folders about old missions. Her voice was unusually subdued for her. "Do you think the way he looks made regular people mistreat him?"
"Well, sure," said Tim. "Kids get teased for having freckles or wearing braces. Imagine looking like he does."
"It is the same for my people," Jin admitted. "Gelydrim who are weakly or timid are ridiculed to the point that some go into exile or even end their lives." She shrugged. "It's not something I take pride in."
"Dig into some of these reports," Sable said. "We've still two dozen to go through. Tim, use your judgement to say if anything seems promising."
"Last week, there was that supposed Skinwalker sighting in Arizona," Tim said as he sat down next to Jin and took out his Link. "That turned out to be nothing. I'll check our emails."
The next few hours passed slowly as nothing of interest turned up. Tim made a fresh pot of coffee. Tel Shai knights on the Tagra regimen had such enhanced healing that the caffeine had no effect on them. Their bodies treated it as poison and passed it quickly, but they did enjoy the taste and the subconscious shared experience of having a few cups together.
"Our Julie Williamson in Pocatello, Idaho says there's a lot of missing pets lately," Tim said at one point. "Five dogs and seven cats lost in two weeks. People are throwing a fit and demanding the police do something."
Sable had her laptop open and she found the email. "Hmmm. Could be Midnight War. If nothing more critical comes up, I think we'll have a two person team go out there and poke around." She moved on to another report and her voice became much more somber. "Oh. This one could be bad. I felt a chill just reading about it."
V.
At seven the next morning, Clench hurried down the stairs head-first. Using his arms to basically go on all fours seemed completely natural considering his build. He had showered and shaved in the guest room but was still wearing the only clothes he had brought with him. Reaching the ground floor and jumping upright, the apelike man paused to sniff and then grin with a mouth that seemed to take up the lower third of his face. Bacon!
Turning right, he faced the reception room where he had been the previous night. The wall back to the rear of the hall was all chest-high bookcases broken by a closed door at intervals. None of the doors he had seen so far bore any identifying numbers or signs. Hearing cheerful voices and following the bacon temptation, he headed toward the rear wall where an open door showed a round table under a window.
Stepping out into the hall and smiling at him was a remarkably pretty young woman dressed all in white. Just over five feet tall and just under one hundred pounds, she had shining platinum hair hanging straight to her shoulders. Crystal blue eyes in a perfect little face with an upturned nose and slightly cleft chin seemed completely friendly.
"Hey there," she chirped, giving him a mock salute with two fingers up by her right eyebrow. "I'm Ashley, they call me the Unicorn. And you must be our applicant. Clench, right?"
"My God, you're gorgeous."
"I KNOW, right? Takes a lot of work to look like this."
That made him sputter. "Sorry, sorry, that was kind of a bold thing to say the minute you meet someone. Yes, I'm Clench. Clarence Ambrose, actually."
"We were just about to page you. Come on, we're in the dining room today." She led the way to where the voices and aromas were coming from. They entered a quietly elegant room of dark polished wood and subdued lighting, with an original painting of a rocky coast with crashing waves. A single wide mahogany table ran the length of the dining room, and gathered at the near end were five remarkable people setting out pewter serving trays with golden heaps of scrambled eggs, layers of crisp bacon and buttered wheat toast. Pitchers of cranberry juice and ice water were also on the table, and a coffee pot burbled on a side table.
The night before, Clench had met three of these KDF members. Sable, the captain. Timothy Limbo, who he already knew. And the ominous Gelydra woman, Demrak Jin. Seated at the table watching him were also a slender young woman with tousled black hair and sharp shrewd dark eyes. Next to her sat a strongly built man who seemed at first to be Northern Chinese but the high cheekbones and eagle beaked nose argued against that.
As everyone was passing plates around, Sable said, "This is Megan Salenger, the Trom Girl. And this is Sheng Mo-Yuan, known as Argent."
Sheng scoffed. "My code name never really caught on for some reason. Everyone just calls me Sheng. I have to tell you, Clench, we don't admit new members too often. Aside from the required special powers or skills, it's important that new members will be able to fit in with our team. Our lives depend on trusting each other."
Sitting across from them, Megan Salenger had fallen way behind her teammates because she chewed so thoroughly it seemed she hardly needed to swallow. Taking frequent small sips of ice water slowed her down further. "Mr Clench, you should be aware how dangerous being on this team is. Exactly half of our members have died by violence. I accept the risk that I too may well be killed in the line of duty. You should think about this."
"Ah, yeah..." the apelike man replied. "Well. No risk, no glory!"
She kept that serious, analytical gaze on him. "There is more than physical harm, Mr Clench. We constantly have experiences that would be hopelessly traumatic for most people. Very few can handle the horrors we see." She went back to eating as she saw everyone else was finished. Timothy had brought over the waist-high serving cart in preparation to start gathering everything up but he sat back down again.
"We can come back tonight when Megs is done," said Ashley with her sweetest smile.
"Chewing properly releases important digestive enzymes..." began the Trom Girl.
Sable stepped in. "Our briefing can wait a few minutes. Clench, let me give you some background. Megan here is a Human orphan who was raised by the Trom to be a liaison between our two Races. She's a certified genius in a dozen fields. You could say she's our Science Department officer. Sheng is not actually Chinese. He's from the adjacent realm of Chujir. Sheng has an interesting ability. He can channel gralic force to become either much stronger or much quicker or very hard to harm."
"But only one thing at a time?"
Sounding a bit annoyed, Sheng spoke up. "You'll learn more about us if we work together a bit. Anyway, this sort of cute girl here is Ashley Whitaker. Her mother was the first Unicorn and she brought Ashley up to be a Midnight War explorer."
"Adventure girl and full-time heartbreaker, that's me," said Ashley, jabbing a thumb at her own chest. "I don't have any so-called super-powers myself, you understand. But I own a magic Unicorn horn that can take away anyone else's abilities. And undo spells, lift curses, all that. I've saved the day MANY times."
Sitting a seat away from her nearest teammate, Demrak Jin looked up. Even when relaxed, her wide flat face had a sullen cast to it. "I am a Gelydra! We live underwater. We are natural warriors. A Gelydra is born at the same a shark is born, and we have the spirit of the shark in us."
Timothy Limbo laughed. "Believe her. If you're getting beat up by a dozen big guys, there's no one you'd rather see running up than Jin!"
"Thank you," the Gelydra said, not smiling.
As Timothy started loading the plates and silverware and glasses on to the cart, Megan rose to help him. "I would like to wash everything," she said.
"Thanks, but I'm on KP today," Tim told her.
"True, but I do a more thorough job than anyone else."
Sable raised her voice very slightly, "Those can wait a few minutes. Leave the cart aside, Tim, I want to deal with today's business. Clench, we're bending procedure to let you sit in on this...but consider it part of your tryout."
"Great, I'm eager to pitch in."
"Timothy, Jin and I are not going off official duty, but of course we are still on call for emergencies. I am going to stay here at base and be available after I get a few hours sleep. Jocelyn is expected to be here at three this afternoon." Sable clasped her hands together and leaned forward as everyone gave full attention. "Today, I am going to send three members to began an investigation. It's about Lake Wyamahac upstate. People in the resort and the neighboring town are leaving as quick as they can. They report mass nightmares."
VI.
The dayroom of the ALBANY REPUBLIC was high ceilinged with bright fluorescent lightbars over two facing rows of open-topped cubicles. At ten-thirty that morning, Agents McGuire and McGuinn were escorted into that room filled with quiet buzzes of conversation and pointed toward a specific cubicle. As they stood before the opening of that workplace, a thickset middle-aged woman glanced up from her laptop.
Meyer McGuire held his open wallet close enough for her to examine it. "Meredith Ellis? We're from the FBI. Your editor said we could speak with you for a few minutes."
Pushing her cat's-eye glasses back up on her slightly hooked nose, Ellis took a moment to also check out McGuinn's ID. "First, let's get our standing clear? Is this off the record?"
"No, ma'am. But you will understand that we intend to give away as little information as possible."
"Hah! Sounds like a government agency, all right. I take it you've done some basic research on me? Sorry I can't offer you coffee, it's for staff only these days."
Lynne McGuinn leaned forward, hands on her knees, a basic trick of body language to suggest openness and friendliness. "Actually, I was already familiar with your work, Ms Ellis. You were very critical of the way the local FBI office handled that trafficking ring that crossed state lines. You collected a lot of small details hinting that those agents were benefitting from the sex work."
The journalist smiled, raising one eyebrow. "Offended?"
"No. I'm not saying you were wrong, even though all charges ended up being dropped. I love and respect the Bureau but people are people. After that, though, you concentrated on the paranormal. The unexplained. The just plain weird."
Ellis moved her tired eyes over to McGuire's steady gaze. "And what do you think?"
"You've done some deep digging, ma'am. To be frank and maybe a little concerned,. I think you've stirred up some people and groups that it's not safe to learn about."
The journalist glanced out through the open doorway before almost whispering, "You're from Department 21 Black, right?"
"We're here to gather information, ma'am. What exactly is going on in this area?"
"You mean, the fact that two out of three people have traumatic nightmares that leave them panicking and hyperventilating? Or three unexplained deaths in a single week? Or that all the tourists have been packing up and driving away as if there was an evacuation order? Is that what you're asking about?"
VII.
"Yikes," Unicorn whispered, then added, "The last time we checked something like that out, it was the Black Druids. It started with mass nightmares, but soon people were slicing themselves up and mutilating animals!"
"That case was the worst," Sheng agreed. "I don't mind a close call now and then, but that night...!"
Sable agreed but added, "This may not be related. It could easily be an entirely new phenomenon in the Midnight War. But we need to learn more. Megan and Ashley... I want you two to go up there immediately. Use Megan's Jeep and report everything suspicious you turn up."
The three members shot to their feet and pushed their chairs back but paused as their guest spoke.
"Say, Ms Sable," interrupted Clench, raising a broad hairy hand, "Let me go. I'll help out and it's a good chance to learn how the team functions."
The team leader regarded him for a second. "I was thinking of suggesting just that. I have another assignment for Sheng today or I would send him. But this will allow you to experience a glimpse of the Midnight War. Megan, Ashley, leave immediately."
"We have our travel bags already packed," the Unicorn said, hopping up eagerly. "And I'm sure our Science Nerd has her beloved Jeep all inspected and ready to go. Clench, come with us. We're going to the garage on 40th Street. Captain, we'll report as we go."
"As always, be careful and good luck." Sable watched the two young women trot briskly from the dining room with the apelike Clench right behind them.
Clearing her throat, Demrak Jin could not entirely hide the anger in her voice. "I am not in command, captain, but I must say this stranger should not be trusted so quickly!"
"Noted," Sable replied. "Megan and Ashley will be watching him closely and be suspicious of every little move he makes. No one is more wary than those two."
VIII.
At a few minute after one that afternoon, the cherry-red Jeep Cherokee rolled into the town of Wyamahac. On the long drive up from Manhattan, nearly all the conversation had been supplied by Unicorn happily chatting away about how amazing her life had been and drawing Clench out about himself.
Behind the wheel, driving as alertly as the pilot of a jet fighter, Megan Salenger noticed that Ashley had given away almost nothing of the KDF's secrets. Nothing substantial about Tel Shai, nothing about their security or their headquarters or about Hawk Island. Yet she had drawn out their guest to divulge nearly his life story. Megan's upbringing by the emotionless Trom had left her with a constant poker face but she allowed herself one of her subdued smiles. Under Ashley's bubbly and blithe surface was a sharp shrewd mind.
In the front passenger seat, the Unicorn was pulling her shining silver hair into a ponytail and fastening it with an elastic Scunci. "Hey, Trom Girl, we desperately need a bathroom break. You're Human. I know you have a bladder like the rest of us."
"Very well," Megan agreed, pulling into a convenient mart and easing up to the gas pumps. "Clench, we are on an expense account during this assignment. If you want food or drink, put it on Ashley's card but save the receipt."
"Oh, that's good news! Thanks." Before getting out, the strange man covered himself again with the oversized coat and slouch hat. Leaning on his cane, he followed Unicorn into the mart as she remarked how her idea of the food groups included salt, sugar, grease and caffeine.
Megan filled the tank on her Jeep, then pulled around to the side to put air in the tires and check everything. From KDF founder Jeremy Bane, she had picked up the habit of frequently cleaning all the windows inside and out. She also always parked facing out to facilitate a quick getaway. Arming the Trom alarms she had installed herself, Megan went in to use the bathroom and wash up.
When she emerged, she found Ashley and Clench sitting on the ground next to her Jeep and digging into a store bag filled with Nachos, candy bars, hard-boiled eggs and trail mix. Unicorn was swigging a bottle of soda and Clench had finished a beer. Seeing Megan, the little blonde pointed an immaculately manicured finger and said, "Disapproval is dripping off your face, Science Nerd."
"Your food intake is your own choice," the Trom Girl said.
"No speeches about empty carbohydrates? No comments about sodium intake?"
"You already know my views, Ashley, and Clench is an adult able to make his own decisions. However," and here Megan put emphasis in her voice, "Please finish before we leave. I do not want crumbs in my vehicle."
Standing up and stretching his long arms up over his head, Clench said, "I've never been so far away from home before. It's a funny feeling."
"Two hundred and eighteen miles from Manhattan," Unicorn told him. She crumbled all the wrappers together into the plastic bag and went over to drop in the trash bin. "Honestly, this is nothing. We go all over. Sometime I should get a world map and X out all the countries I have graced with my presence."
Suddenly both women straightened up and swung around to face the road. Megan's hand went to grasp a small flat device clipped to her belt. Following their gaze, Clench saw a black Chevrolet Suburban pulling into the parking lot and easing toward them.
"It would be better if you say nothing for the moment," Megan told Clench, who nodded.
Emerging from the car were a man and a woman both dressed in neat dark suits complete with white dress shirts and narrow black ties; the woman wore a pleated skirt instead of trousers. They were both nearly the same height at about five feet ten, both trim and fit looking. The man had short, greying brown hair and the woman had a curly red perm, but their faces were unremarkable, almost anonymous.
Facing them, Ashley Whitaker braced her palms against her hips and smirked. "Drat. Agent McGuinn, Agent McGuire. You guys might as well have signs around your necks that say FBI."
"It's no surprise to run into you two again so soon," said the woman. "McGuire and I are here on official investigation and we thought it possible your little organization might also be interested."
Ashley scoffed. "Yeah, yeah. We're here now so you guys might as well go chase bank robbers and counterfeiters. We'll call you if we need you."
The man McGuire had a remarkably somber voice that gave him gravitas. "We represent a official agency of the United States government. You ladies work for an amateur research group. Be smart, don't get in the way and we won't need to charge you with obstruction."
Before the Unicorn could fire off a retort, Megan interrupted quietly, "We have reason to suspect a monumental danger is threatening the people of this area. You know me. Believe me when I suggest that both our teams may be needed to protect human life and safety."
The two agents glanced at each other, then McGuinn reluctantly turned her unfriendly gaze toward where Clench was sitting and watching. "Who's your friend?"
"He's got a bad case of Never You Mind..." began Ashley but she was cut off again.
Megan said, "We will be talking with local inhabitants as we try to learn more about the situation. Mr Ambrose will be helping us. Agent McGuinn, Agent McGuire, I suggest we all proceed at once."
Meyer McGuire shook his head. "Your KDF has done some good work but you are after all amateurs. We're Federal agents. We know things you don't, we have resources you don't."
The Unicorn made a loud scoffing sound.
The woman agent folded her arms across her chest and exhaled. "Fine. Fine. Little blondie, you're not half as airheaded as you play at being. And you, the Trom liaison, you've proven yourself. Don't think we haven't noticed the dozen homicide cases you've solved across the country. So for the moment, let's just say we can stay out of each other's way. McGuire?"
"Fair enough," he agreed. "Miss Salenger, you still have our numbers?"
"Yes. We will be in touch." Megan turned toward her Jeep and chirped open the doors with her key fob. The two FBI agents swung around to get back into their own vehicle and drive off.
Watching the black SUV leave, Clench asked, "So those were FBI? They didn't hold up their wallet with the ID cards."
"Not just FBI, they're from Department 21 Black," Ashley said. "They're a special unit messing around with Midnight War stuff." She grudgingly added, "Sometimes they're useful."
"Let's get going." Megan climbed in behind the steering wheel and put on her mirrored aviator glasses. As soon as Ashley had buckled up in the passenger seat and Clench had lumbered into the back, she started the finely tuned motor up.
"You know," Unicorn said, "Agent Stiff and Agent Stuffy are likely already questioning local doctors and therapists and such about all the nightmares. We're not going to do too well asking everybody the same questions. Especially since not too many have ever heard of the KDF."
Megan pulled out onto the road and headed into town. "We will have to investigate in a different way. I have a plan."
"Hah! I knew it." Ashley turned her head to grin at Clench. "You'll learn that our Trom Girl ALWAYS has a plan."
IX.
After asking questions at two motels, the KDF team stopped at a row of cabins right on the edge of the lake itself. A redwood dock extended out from the shore with canoes tied up along its side, and there was a barbeque firepit which stood cold and unused. As Clench unfolded himself from the back seat, he observed mildly, "No one in sight! Same as the other places. I know it's after Labor Day, but shouldn't this area be packed with tourists?"
"So you might think," agreed Megan Salenger, gazing out over the pristine surface of the lake to where the soft rounded Catskills rose beyond. "There's been almost no traffic. All the houses we passed had absolutely no one in sight. The deep fear which is gripping this area has pressured everyone to leave who can do so."
"I can feel it," Ashley said quietly. "Look, I'm not psychic at all. Our Teachers at Tel Shai gave up on developing any kind of mystic perception in me but I don't care. I can feel SOMETHING! Something is making the hair on my arms stand up and I'm cold. What's the temp, Megs?"
"Eighty-three point five on the Fahrenheit scale," the Trom Girl replied without checking any instrument. "Sixty-seven per cent humidity with no measurable breeze. We should feel uncomfortable but I also seem to be reacting as if it's a chilly early Winter day."
"This is the Midnight War then?" asked Clench.
"Yeah. And it's going to get bad." The Unicorn turned those crystal blue eyes on their guest with unexpected reprove. "Listen, I wanna tell you something. Maybe you see yourself as a hero getting all the applause and acclaim when you catch the bad guy or slay the monster. It's not like that. We're needed most when things are darkest and no one even knows what's at stake. When the cheering stops. When the trumpets fall silent. That's when our work begins."
The apelike man did not respond for a long moment. "Miss Unicorn, I'm not looking for parades or medals, I just want to do what's right. Well, and get a paycheck as well."
"Hang on a second." Ashley opened the rear area of the Jeep and unfastened a white leather cylinder which tapered two feet from a flat end to a point. Rejoining Megan and Clench, she unsnapped the sheath and drew out her Horn. A slim spiral of ivory with a polished sheen, it was capped at the flat end with a silver disc. She carried it carefully in both hands with the needle-sharp point downward.
"This is why I'm called the Unicorn," she told Clench in a voice completely free of her usual impudence. "No one knows how old it is. It belonged to my mother, the first adventurer called Unicorn and now it's mine."
"It's beautiful," breathed Clench, leaning forward on his cane. "I didn't know there were real Unicorns!"
"Oh, yes. The Unicorn is in its way a holy beast. It has a spiritual purity." Ashley touched the cap at the flat end. "This is Ensalir, silver which has been blessed by the immortal Eldanarin themselves. My Horn breaks curses, dispels harmful energy, protects the innocent. When I speak my mantra, the Horn takes away anyone's gralic powers for an hour or so."
Clench pushed back his slouch hat to leave his pleasantly homely face exposed. "I... I guess there's more to you than meets the eye, Miss Unicorn."
Beside him, Megan commented, "Don't let Ashley's mannerisms mislead you. She is a knight of Tel Shai the equal of any other."
"Hell yeah," the Unicorn said with a sudden grin breaking out. "I talk a lot of trash and crack wise but I take our mission seriously. Listen, you guys. The Horn is feeling warm. The Ensalir cap is almost painfully hot to the touch. We're close to something both potent and malicious. There! In the lake."
The three of them stared at the mirror surface of water untouched by the slightest breeze. The air was heavy and clammy. Megan was taking readings on her Link, "I can not detect anything out of the ordinary but that is inconclusive. Midnight War threats do not always register on scientific instruments."
"Brrr," Clench said, turning toward the two women. "You're giving me the creeps big time. I'm actually scared."
"You should be," Unicorn told him.
X.
"Wait! Go back. Turn around."
At the wheel of the black Suburban, McGuire braked hard and made a tight three point turn. "What? What is it?"
"I saw something. There, the house on the right."
At eight-thirty, it was just getting dark that time of year. McGuire slowed by the long gravel driveway and came to a stop. "No lights on in that house, no vehicles in sight."
Lynne McGuinn seldom touched her partner but she grasped his arm now. "Pull in. I think this is important."
"If you say so." The small one-story house of red brick stood in a poorly tended yard of rank brown grass with a single forlorn apple tree drooping nearby. As McGuire turned off the motor, he swung his gaze all around. "Well?"
Already getting out, McGuinn said over one shoulder, "On the tree. Come on!"
In the gloom, Agent McGuire took out his pencil flashlight. It took a few seconds to figure out what he was looking at. Hanging upside down, a freshly skinned cat had been nailed to the apple tree. Blood had barely dried. Around the appalling sight, an oval had been drawn in white paint with esoteric symbols circling its outer rim.
"Those Who Remember," he breathed. "Our department has tangled with them too many times. I'd know that symbol anywhere."
"A Black Magic cult, if I remember right. Some nonsense about freeing evil ancient gods who want to clear the Earth of all life. But," she added, "crazy as they might be, it doesn't matter if they're right or not. All the crimes they commit for their beliefs are real enough."
"There was that Burning Skies incident in the Southwest years ago," McGuire said. "So many files are classified above our level, but..."
Seeing him hesitate, McGuinn stepped back a pace.
"How could you have seen this from the road? In this light?" he asked, turning around to find himself facing the barrel of her service revolver.
As McGuire froze in confusion and alarm, a short stocky man in rough work clothes emerged from around the house. He was carrying a Marlin hunting rifle. Shifting it to one hand, he reached to the agent's waist and tugged the service weapon out.
"I don't understand," McGuire gasped. "Why are you doing this? What's this all about?"
She snorted and gestured toward their car. "Get moving. Art, you drive and I'll keep him covered." Only after handcuffing his wrists behind him did her voice give away less tension. "You fools have no idea how infiltrated the Bureau is by mystic groups. The Preincarnators, Red Sect, the White Web. Those Who Remember is no different. I was helped through the Academy by experts in case I was needed."
By then, they had reached the car and McGire compliantly got into the back seat. "McGuinn....what's going on here? What's your plan?"
That made her laugh out loud. "You won't be alive to see it."
XI.
ANGELINA'S sat at an intersection of two roads, where a dozen Harleys and two Dodge pick-ups sat in the gravel parking lot. Where rowdy laughter might have been expected, non escaped the interior as Megan led Clench and Ashley out into the dusk.
"I can't believe you ate a whole pizza by yourself," the Unicorn was saying.
Clench scoffed. "What can I say, I'm a big boy."
"And a Meat Lover's Pizza at that! Sausage, pepperoni, salami, ostrich for all I know! Megan had two slices, I managed three. Sheesh."
Chirping open the door of her Jeep, the Trom Girl allowed a tinge of weariness into her voice. "I am not satisfied with today's gathering of data."
"Yeah, it was disappointing," Ashley agreed, getting into the front passenger seat. "People kept starting to spill what they're afraid of and then they change their minds and back away from us."
"Well honestly, I'm impressed by the way you ladies gather information. You don't keep asking questions, you sort of set up that you're open to listening and people begin unloading. Nice technique."
Seeing everyone was strapped in, Megan started up the engine but paused before moving her vehicle. "It is unexpected to see those bikers so cowed and uneasy. Generally they are classified as not easily intimidated."
"You got that right," Ashley put in. "They were acting as if they were waiting for the worst bad news ever. They stared down, they weren't meeting each other's eyes. And when toughened One Percenters like them sit for an hour and barely touch their beer... well, that snaps up a big ol' red flag."
Easing out onto a deserted road to their left, Megan Salenger said, "Every car I have observed today has been heading out of town."
"I'm getting scared," Clench whispered. Both of his new teammates glanced back at him. 'Maybe I shouldn't admit it, a big galoot like me..."
Hearing the shame in his voice, Ashley made her own tones less flippant. "Nothing wrong with that, Clench. We're in the vicinity of one of the worst known monsters ever. Wherever a Sulla Chun manifests, people lose their minds and animals run away as fast as they can. Heck, I've seen earthworms come up out of the ground by the hundreds and have seizures when a Sulla Chun showed up."
The apelike man did not respond. After a minute, Megan said, "We may not show it because of our training and experience, Clench, but both Ashley and I are seriously frightened at this time. My pulse is high, my adrenalin has surged and I find myself over-reacting to any slight movement nearby."
"That does make me feel better," he admitted. "If I'm going to join the team, I better toughen up though."
Ashley was still watching him. "You'd have to be insane or stupid not to be afraid. Being brave is charging ahead anyway. Kind of an important realization in the crunch."
"When the trumpets go silent," Clench said to himself.
After a hushed thoughtful ride, they returned to the lakeside hotel and pulled into the same spot they had left hours ago. As soon as Megan turned off the engine, Clench said, "Wait. What's floating on the water?"
"Fish," answered the Trom Girl. "Thousands of dead fish."
Ashley was out of the Jeep and over by the shore of the lake, quick as a squirrel, the unsheathed Unicorn horn in her hands. She tapped the Ensalir cap on its end with a finger. "It's burning hot! I've never felt it sting like that."
"This is horrible." Clench had left his topcoat and fedora in the Jeep, leaning forward on his stiffened arms like an actual ape. "We shouldn't get too close. What if, I dunno, some noxious gas was released? Methane or Carbon Dioxide...?"
"I am not detecting any harmful contaminants in the air," Megan said. She examined the screen of her Link and turned her head toward her teammates. "But I personally am feeling uncomfortable. There is a feeling of pressure in my head and I am breathing with more effort than normal."
"Scan us, Science Nerd," Ashley urged.
"This is unexpected. Your blood oxygen level is only ninety per cent. Your blood pressure is one hundred and forty-five over one hundred and ten. Heartbeat is one hundred and eleven. These are alarming counts for you, Ashley." She waved the device at Clench. "Your readings are concerning as well. Do you feel unusual symptoms?"
The apelike man had let his head sag but now he drew himself together. "Anxiety attack, maybe? I dunno. I feel very strongly I should run like hell and get away from here. Look. Is that.. a whirlpool?"
The three of them made their way to the end of the dock where an eddy ten feet across. Steam hissed from its maw. As they watched, the mass of dead fish were drawn down into the depths.
"Dayum...." Clench muttered as he stared.
Behind him, he heard Ashley activate her Link. "Sable? Sable, come in."
A friendly male voice sang out from the device. "Hi, Unicorn. This is Tim. Sable rushed our team to Androval. Big Trouble, the Mountain Trolls seem to lost their minds altogether."
"What? Who else is available? Where's Jeremy? Or Sheng?"
Let's see, Jeremy is near Mesa Rojo, Arizona. Skinwalkers. Last we heard from Sheng, e had been digging around the Pelican's gang. What's going on, Ash, you sound a little worked up.."
Swinging over, Megan grabbed the Link in Ashley's hand and pulled it up closer to her mouth. "Trom Girl calling Code Red! Sulla Chun sighting."
"Understood," Tim answered. "Sounding the alert."
Breaking the connection, Megan pushed both her partners back to the far end of the deck. "Unicorn, you and I must get in full field suits. Clench, come with us into the rented room. Hurry!"
Inside, Ashley and Megan quickly stripped off their civilian clothes. Underneath, they were wearing skin-tight leotards of what looked like dark wet silk, leaving only their heads, hands and feet exposed.
"No charge for the show," Unicorn smirked. She and the Trom Girl whipped on their field suits with the smoothness of long practice. All black, the snug pants and mid-calf boots and long-sleeved jersey shirts were followed by the waist-length jackets. A needle-barreled anesthetic dart gun in its belt holster and the Unicorn horn were Ashley's final additions. Megan's suit featured the beam projector device and, between her shoulder blades, the flattened metal disc of the gravity shield.
"Wow, you two are fast!"
"Heh, we get marks on it during our training," Ashley laughed. "A buzzer sounds any time in the night and we have to be suited up in twelve seconds. The first week, I had my jacket on backwards and my boots on the wrong feet."
Megan stepped closer and handed over a small trinket which Clench accepted. "Please listen. This is a protective talisman crafted by the immortal Eldanarin on Elvedal itself. The eight-spoked wheel is a symbol of Tel Shai and only knights of our Order are gifted these."
Clench held it up to the motel room light. On a finely-linked chain was supported a delicate open wheel with eight spokes, crafted of a metal the palest gold imaginable. It brought warmth and comfort, and he felt his hand stop trembling. "Beautiful...."
"Clench, treat this seriously. Wear this around your neck tonight. Hold the wheel in your hand tightly. It is the best protection possible against indescribable danger."
From one side, Ashley added, "Megan describes totaling your car as an inconvenience. When she talks like this, better believe it."
Clench's broad homely face settled into somber lines. "Are you two going to be safe?"
"Nope, being safe is nowhere in the job description." The Unicorn had tied back her gleaming hair into a bun and lowered the helmet down to fasten it airtight with the high collar of her jacket. A clear visor slid down to click into place. "Wouldn't have it any other way."
Having fastened her own helmet, Megan opened the door. All three froze into position as they saw the twilight outside was now lit by a dark lurid red radiance from the lake. A spotlight of deep red illumination shone straight up into the air which had turned humid and oppressive.
"Drat, it didn't look like that a minute ago," Unicorn observed. She and the Trom Girl forced their way outside as if walking against stiff gale force winds. "I'm definitely hearing wailing voices, Megs."
"Visual and auditory hallucinations are a symptom of Sulla Chun appearances," Megan told her. There was clear strain in her voice, something almost unprecedented for her.
Ashley was swatting angrily with the Unicorn horn at empty air. "Dammit. It's like when you glimpse something out of the corner of your eye but it's not there when you turn your head. This sucks big time!"
"I will attempt the photon ram at high intensity," Megan declared, stepping up onto the dock. All the dead fish had long been sucked down into the maelstrom.
"Ack! Something just ran up my leg! No, it's gone. Wait, Megan, lemme try my horn, it's sacred magic from the Eldanarin themselves, when has it ever let us down?"
The little blonde pushed past her best friend to the far edge of the pier where she could have stared down into the boiling red whirlpool. Instinct warned her to turn her head. Ashley raised the Unicorn horn, blessed by the Eldanarin thirty thousand years ago, took a deep unsteady breath and screamed, "With this Horn I remove this power!"
Thunder cracked unbearably close. The Unicorn was lifted up head high off the pier and smashed into Megan so violently that both flew back twenty feet to thump on the ground.
Pinned down under a limp form, Megan thought for one terrifying instant that she had been blinded. No. It was the visor. The controls didn't respond. She unlocked the chin strap manually and yanked the helmet off to take deep shuddering breaths.
As close to panic as she had over come, the Trom Girl clamped down with all her discipline. She saw Ashley's visor was also charred black. If the internal systems were down, it meant her friend wasn't getting any air. Megan got the helmet off and felt immense relief seeing Unicorn gasp and cough.
Steam was rising from both of them. The air was more oppressive than any jungle. Finally satisfied that Ashley was breathing freely, Megan disentangled herself and tried to stand up but fell hard on her face. Her arms and legs were as numb as if they had been severed.
She could not rise. Beside her, a delirious Unicorn was twitching and mumbling, "Get 'em off, get 'em off me!"
The rushing of the whirlpool had deepened to a roar. The shaft of red flame blazed up into the night sky, casting new shadows. Fumbling with her devices, with the controls built into her suit, Megan found that none of the Trom tech functioned. Maybe it was as well that none of the team had arrived, she thought in her daze. Why should they all die?
Then Megan heard a car door slam not three feet from her head.
XII.
A hand seized her damp hair and twisted her head around. Megan glared up into the gleeful face of Agent McGuinn. "I'm glad you're still alive, little girl. You mustn't die yet. Not before the Old One crosses over."
Nearby, a man's voice added, "Blondie here's still among the living, mistress. She don't look too hot, to be honest."
"They only need to survive a few more minutes," McGuinn chuckled. "Once the Old One leaves the Spaces Between Spaces, we can cut their throats to the bone with no problem."
"That still confuses me, ma'am," said the man. "I always thought you summoned demons and devils WITH human sacrifice, and now I find out that's wrong?"
McGuinn let Megan's head fall back to the boards of the dock with a clunk, "Watch your tongue, fool. The Sulla Chun are no mere demons. They are spawn of the Halarin and Halarim. They reigned over this world before the stain of life, when it was only pure molten rock, and they are ready to return."
Hyperventilating in her distress, Megan Salenger finally managed to prop herself up on one elbow. Looming up over her stood Department 21 Black Agent Lynn McGuinn. Next to her was a short man in coveralls. In the deep crimson glow from the whirlpool, their gloating faces shone with sweat.
"Only a few more minutes and Those Who Remember will finally be vindicated!" McGuinn screamed as loud as she possibly could. "This fallen world will be cleansed! It has be worth all the toil and--ArgghKK!"
A powerful hand had seized her by the throat, cutting off her voice and the last thing she knew was being hauled up into the air and flung down into that steaming maelstrom with her fellow cult member right after her. Their wails broke after a split-second as boiling hot water closed over them.
Falling to his hands and knees on the far edge of that dock, Clarence Ambrose stared straight down into the whirlpool and saw what no mortal eye was ever meant to behold.
XII.
Hours later, Megan came back to full awareness to find Unicorn was sitting behind her, holding her up in her arms. The stars were out full force in a clear, crisp sky. "Ashley..?"
"Hi, Science Nerd. Bet you feel like I do, and I feel like I was beaten senseless with baseball bats. Can you sit up?"
"Yes. Ow. What's the situation?"
Unicorn sighed and propped her friend up next to her before answering. "It's a mixed bag, to be honest, one of those bitter victories. The Sulla Chun is gone. Those Who Remember went with them into whatever metaphysical prison where they're kept." She shifted around to make Megan more comfortable. "I can barely walk. I found the other Department 21 Black agent in the trunk of that car. He's alive but completely out of it. I found my Horn, it's not damaged but that's more than I can say for poor Clench."
Struggling up to brace herself with feet wide apart, Megan held onto her partner. "Did... did Clench intervene?"
"Yes. He must have been absolutely terrified at the hallucinations and everything, but I'm sure I saw him throw McGuinn and that farmer into the hole. That was the human sacrifice needed to send the Sulla Chun back. Neither of us were in any shape to do it."
"There he is," Megan said, striding over stiff-legged to drop to her knees next to the great bulk huddled in a ball on the dock. When she touched him, Clench whined and slapped her hands away. Coaxing and whispering in gentle tones got no better response.
He clumsily resisted being turned onto his back and was too strong for them to prevent his curling back up into the fetal position. "His pupils are dilated," Megan observed. "Skin is cold and clammy. I'm taking his pulse at one hundred and twenty. None of my equipment is functional, though."
Ashley had sagged down next to her and was fumbling with one of the magazines for her weapon. "Here. I've got an anesthetic dart. They should still work."
"Yes. Getting his heartbeat and adrenal levels under control will help." Megan jabbed the point into that thick neck. Within a few seconds, Clench slumped down and exhaled. He began breathing normally.
"I think he saw the Sulla Chun at close range," Ashley whispered. "Our Teachers warned us that our brains can't handle that. It's overload. We burn out."
Megan got up on her feet, more confidently. "The Teachers should be able to heal him. Cindy's a telepath. Kerlaw and Ted Wright are Blue Guides. A regimen of Tagra may help."
"Give me a minute, I'll help lug him into our car. Then we need to check on Agent McGuire but 21 Black can take care of him. Clench is our guy." Ashley's voice cracked, "This was his tryout! His big chance. Looks like he may never even know how well he did."
9/14/2024
9/6-9/8/2015
I
For nearly a hundred years, the ten-story stone building on East 38th Street had seen many strange and even bizarre figures walk up to its front door. This pleasant September evening at exactly midnight, it saw yet another one. People stepped aside on the sidewalk not from apprehension but from sympathy, thinking that here was an elderly man afflicted with arthritis.
He would have been six feet tall if he had stood fully upright, but he was bent forward and leaning on a thick wooden cane. A long white coat hanging loosely from his shoulders disguised how powerful that broad body was, how thickly muscled the long arms and short bow legs must be. Clench wore a wide-brimmed slouch hat pulled low. His immense feet wore shoes that had to have been handmade. Ignoring stares, he moved easily up the six steps in front of a door that read "KDF 28" and pressed the bell.
Seconds later, a reserved female voice came through a speaker behind a panel over the door, "Hello there. can we help you?"
"Hello, I'm Clarence Ambrose. Clench?"
"Oh sure. Just a minute."
With buzzes and clicks that suggested multiple alarms and locks being turned off, the massive door swung outward on its own. The man who had called himself Clench stepped into a small vestibule which contained only a bench with a few magazines on it, a wall lamp and a life-sized oil portrait of a middle-aged gnomish man. The tab beneath read, KENNETH DRED 1900-1979.
Laying his cane on the bench, he shrugged off the coat and placed it down as well.
Immediately, Clench dropped to stand with his weight supported on stiff arms with his fists pressed down on the floor. This posture looked entirely reasonable for someone built that way. Simian comparisons were inevitable. The strange man looked as if he would weigh nearer three hundred pounds than two hundred, but he was not fat. His body and limbs seemed solid muscle. He was wearing loose navy blue sweatpants and an equally baggy sweatshirt that was canary yellow with blue side panels His oversized hands and feet were bare. The man had a wide, homely face under a thick thatch of light brown hair but his expression was amiable enough.
As he sighed with relief at not having to stand upright, Clench cocked his head. All around him sounded a deep, nearly subliminal hum. His skin tingled. Was he being X-rayed? Then the inner door swung open toward him and he swung around. Standing in the doorway were two women and a man.
Timothy Limbo he had met a month earlier. A bit under six feet tall and fit looking, the blond young man was wearing a plain white T-shirt, worn out jeans and biker boots. To his left was a dark-haired woman about forty, arms folded across her chest, watching him with a cold appraising gaze.
But it was the other woman that got his full attention. She was tiny, not much over five feet tall and thin, wearing a tight suit of grey shark-hide. Under short bristly white hair, cloudy dark blue eyes glared at him as if she was eager to attack. The woman slapped the flat of a long bone-bladed knife against one palm, which did not make her less threatening.
"Hey there," said Clench hopefully. "Sorry to drop in so late, but someone told me you guys are mostly active late at night and so many lights were on in the windows, so..."
"Oh, I remember YOU," Timothy interrupted. "As soon as we met, you kicked me in the head and kidnapped me!"
"Well, yeah, but let's not live in the past," the apelike man replied. "So, about why I'm here, maybe we can sit down to talk about it."
"I'm Sable, captain of this team," said the dark-haired woman. "Stand down, Jin. i don't think our visitor is any immediate threat."
Reluctantly, scowling all the time, Demrak Jin slid her weapon into a flat ivory sheath across her back. "Whatever you say," she growled.
Sable moved forward a step. "Adrenalin levels in your perspiration and your heartbeat are only slightly elevated. Muscle tension is normal, as are your pupils. I'm sure you didn't come here to attack us."
"You're puttin' me on," Clench said. "How do you know all that?"
"We all have our gifts. All right, come on in and tell us what's on your mind."
Escorted warily by all three KDF members, Clench loped in his unusual way across the front hall, past the wide staircase leading up, through an open door into the conference room. To the right, a desk sat against a wall under a gorgeous hand-painted map of the world as it had been in 1937. A long, brown leather couch sat in the middle of the room, with six simple wooden chairs scattered about. Against the far wall to the left was a chest high bookcase filled with reference books and on its top a coffee pot with accessories and a tray of Danishes. The air was cool and dry, the lighting subdued.
"Have a seat facing the couch," Sable offered. "Mr Ambrose, you should be aware we have no reason to be cordial. I annotated the report that Timothy filed when he got back from his...encounter."
"True, true," Clench replied. "Sorry about all that. You know my family is, well, maybe you could call us mutants. Except instead of stray genes changing naturally, we were changed by our mother's sorcery. She WAS a head witch of Red Sect, after all."
"And..." interrupted Timothy, "She ordered me abducted to stage a fake marriage and wanted me to get her pregnant! And she's seventy years old!"
Clenched waved a broad hairy hand dismissively. "I thought we were past all that."
"What are you TALKING about?! 'Past all that'...?"
"Timothy, stand down," said Sable. "Take a seat. We have to be professional. Mr Ambrose, we'll hear you out."
"Fair enough, fair enough," the visitor said. "Ahem. Anyway, my family left the area recently. Grandma wanted to get a fresh start out West. But I decided to stay here. I've heard an awful lot of wild stories about the Kenneth Dred Foundation. You're knights of Tel Shai. Everyone says you're the greatest heroes the Midnight War had ever seen."
"And...?" asked Sable.
"Look at me, ma'am. You can imagine it's hard for me to get a regular job. When I go to apply anywhere, they all hide in the back. But I do have powers and abilities far beyond those of mortal men--"
"Oh, brother," Tim groaned.
"I looked up records. I'm more than twice as strong as the record-holding weightlifter. I'm nimble and agile as an acrobat or Olympic gymnast. My toes are prehensile enough to tie and untie knots. I have a lot to offer."
"Wait," said Sable, "You're not saying...?"
"You bet, I want to join the KDF."
II.
"This doesn't look like a typical suicide," Agent McGuinn said.
Standing in the doorway next to him, Agent McGuire studied the gruesome scene. Lying on its back horizontally across a double bed was a man's corpse with most of the back of its head scattered. Blood and gore covered half the bedspread. "The late Albert Murdaugh, aged forty-one. Care to elaborate?" she asked.
McGuire was average in height and build, with a bland face under medium brown hair with a few scattered flecks of white in it. It would be hard to give a useful description of him. He lowered his service revolver and returned it to its holster at the left side of his belt beneath the suit jacket. "Good observation. There's a number of immediate obvious items, McGuinn. He's in his boxers and T-shirt, for one thing. His glasses are on the night stand, along with his phone... which is still being charged."
Lynne McGuinn was the same height as her partner, also rather unremarkable in appearance aside from a dark red perm, but she seemed to be in her mid-twenties while he was a rather weathered fifty. "And most indoor suicides tidy everything up first, I believe. They usually put on good clothes and make the site presentable. There's a plate there with a half-eaten sandwich, a crumpled napkin and an empty bottle of seltzer. Okay, go on."
"You notice the bottom drawer of the nightstand is open. He could have reached it from where he is. Almost certainly, that's where his gun was."
"I spotted the gun in the corner over there," McGuinn said. "Looks like a basic Glock. Right now, it seems it was thrown there by reaction to the shot."
McGuire had taken out his cell phone and was taking photos. "What's your opinion, could he have been murdered and everything set up to look like it was suicide?"
"No... no, I don't think so. The way he still had the blanket around his legs, the way nothing was disturbed. I mean, it's possible two strong men could have held him steady and shot him but it seems unlikely. What about a suicide note, McGuire?"
"They're less common every year," he said. "At least, handwritten notes on a piece of paper. Many suicides these days send an email or message someone right before doing the act. I don't want to search for his phone. We're going to turn this over to the local police."
"We are?! Why?"
McGuire's subdued voice held the sorrow of someone reluctantly giving the worst news. "Because we're going to be very busy, McGuinn, this death is only the beginning..."
III.
The four of them stepped into the high-ceiling, well-lit gym. This took up most of the seventh floor of the KDF headquarters building. Lined up facing the windows showing 38th Street were three treadmills. A variety of Nautilus equipment took up most of the floor space. Walled off with a narrow open doorway was a co-ed locker room, three showers and several benches, with a toilet and sink in an enclosed stall.
The right hand side had a sparring area with a floor covered by padded mats; this was also used for practicing the Kumundu Doh Ra form. A rack on that wall displayed a variety of weapons, including Bo staffs, hard rubber knives and replica guns, as well as padded gloves and protective helmets.
Following Sable and Jin, who were flanking Clench, Timothy Limbo grumbled, " I don't know why we're even bothering with this character. He's never going to join, he's one of the bad guys and we should just throw him in a holding cell right this minute."
"Let's not be hasty," Sable said. She was dressed more formally than her teammates, wearing a dark brown pantsuit with a cream-colored blouse. "I'm still not reading any signs of hostility or tension. New members are hard to find and we could stand some new blood. All right, Mr Ambrose...."
"Please call me Clench. When you say, 'Mr Ambrose,' I look around to see who you're talking to."
"Fine. Why don't you treat this as a sort of audition and show us what you can do?"
The apelike man laughed outright. "I love showing off." He dropped down to the hardwood floor and did some pushups on one thumb, then swung his legs up to do a handstand on the other hand. The KDF members made no comment. Clench then jumped up to slam his feet against a bare section of the nearby wall at chest height and used the reaction to fling himself high enough to slap the ceiling with his open palm. He dropped down to the floor lightly as it stepping down off a curb.
"My reflexes are pretty good, also," he said. "I can't quite dodge bullets but I'm very hard to tag with a punch."
"Oh, we'll be sure to test that before we're done," Demrak Jin commented .
On the free weights, Clench demonstrated he could indeed clean and jerk three hundred and eighty pounds with a little effort. He did equally well on leg raises and extensions. On one of the treadmills, he ran full blast at a forty-five degree level for twenty minutes without being out of breath.
In an exceedingly grudging voice, Demrak Jin said, "He has the physical prowess to make a worthy warrior."
Sable glanced over at her. "From a Gelydra, that's the equivalent of wild praise. If Jin is impressed, Clench, that's a good sign."
"Captain!" broke in Tim. "You know I respect your opinion. But honestly, remember what this guy did. And where he comes from. One of the worst cults ever, Red Sect."
"It's okay, Tim, I'm never above questioning," Sable said. "I make plenty of mistakes. But Clench is not being rushed into membership. If we want to admit him, he'd have to be cleared by the Teachers at Tel Shai and some of them are telepaths."
"Yikes," muttered Clench, "Some of my thoughts are not exactly PG-13, ya know?"
Even Sable smiled at that. "Most of the Teachers are a hundred years old. Believe me, you're not going to shock them. They've seen everything."
Clench turned his pleasantly homely face toward Timothy. "I realize I never even apologized to you for what I did."
"Eh. You know now you were wrong," Tim said as he took a deep breath. "Hell. I guess I have to be magnanimous about this. Sure, let's give Clench here a chance as we get to know him better."
"That's all I ask."
IV.
It turned out that Clench not only didn't have anywhere to stay, he only had twenty dollars on him.
"In Manhattan, that'll buy maybe a doorway to sleep in," Tim observed. "I don't have an apartment because of the prices."
"The three of us are on the eleven PM to seven AM shift. It's not called Midnight War for no reason," Sable said. "When you're ready to turn in, Clench, Tim will show you to a guest room on the fifth floor. You can't stay here indefinitely, of course, but while we're considering your application, you might as well be comfortable."
Leaning forward on stiffened arms, Clench exhaled hard. "I'm exhausted, to be honest. Arguing with my family before we left and the bus trip here and all the worrying about my application. If nobody minds, I could go to bed right now."
"Fine. We do have our duties and chores. Tim?"
Timothy nodded and headed out of the gym, glancing over at their visitor to suggest he accompany him. Loping along behind him with his simian gait, Clench looked back in the doorway and said, "Thanks for everything."
The stairway was in the middle of the building, so the upper floors were each made up of a hollow rectangle of individual rooms separated by bookcases. The entire building housed bookcases crammed with the many thousands of rare volumes collected by Kenneth Dred over his long life. A few ornate benches and potted hanging plants brightened up the place.
"I understand this building was originally meant to be a luxury hotel in the late 19th Century," Timothy explained. "It's been mostly rebuilt of course, but these three floors are still individual suites and pretty comfortable."
"Books do furnish a room. I love reading but we could never afford many books," Clench said. "Heck, I'd be happy just staying on this floor and reading until I fell asleep every day. Maybe stopping to eat if I had to."
Timothy Limbo stopped in front of one of the unmarked doors and opened it. "Now, these are guest rooms we keep ready. There's toothpaste, shampoo, all that stuff in the bathroom." They stepped inside and he flicked on the light switch right by his hand. Most of these rooms had an identical layout. There was a queen sized bed over by the windows looking down at Lexington Avenue, a nightstand with three drawers and a lamp. By the head of each bed was a wall intercom. There was a desk with a computer, a dresser with a big mirror on its top and several comfortable chairs. On its wheeled cart was a TV. In the far wall were two doors, one for the closet and one for the bathroom. Some of the members brought in a small couch. Each member added individual touches such as standing lamps, throw rugs, framed photos or posters, etc but these guest quarters were undecorated.
Even so, the room made Clench whistle in admiration. "Man! I mean, you saw the shack I grew up in. This looks great!"
"Some of us live here full-time, some stay here when they're on duty," Tim said. "Um, the next shift takes over at seven. We usually meet in the kitchen for breakfast and to fill each other on what's going on. That'd be the best time for you to meet everyone."
"Great, great," Clench repeated. "Be honest, Tim, what do you think my chances are?
Pausing in the doorway on his way out, Timothy shrugged. "I don't know. Hard to say. We're not just a SWAT team or a bunch of paranormal investigators or real no-fooling super-heroes but a little of each at the same time. We only have maybe six or seven full-time members at any time. The job is real demanding. I guess we'll see."
Heading back down to the ground floor, Timothy returned to the office and found Sable and Jin were going over reports. The KDF maintained a network of observers around the world. Many of them had had their lives saved or the lives of loved ones by KDF members and felt a great debt. They watched for any mysterious or possibly supernatural goings-on and told the KDF all about it.
This practice had been started by KDF founder Jeremy Bane, who never accepted financial payback or rewards for what he did. The observers had stayed on with the KDF after Bane had stepped down. Many crucial missions had begun with a single phone call from someone who had seen something odd.
"Not much going on," Sable said as Tim entered. "Midnight War has been slack lately. How's our applicant?"
"He's settled into Guest Room 6. I'm getting used to him. And I did leave a Link next to the staircase. If he passes by it, we'll get an alert."
"Good thinking," said the team captain. "We haven't installed security cameras on the living quarters floors because we don't get enough privacy as it is."
Jin spoke up for the first time. "Megan wants us to wear devices which monitor our locations as well as our vital signs. That motion was strongly voted down." The Gelydra looked back and forth between her two partners. "Is he part gorilla? A hybrid of some kind?"
"No, no," Sable laughed, "I've been examining the Trom sensor scans. He's a modified Human. It looks like he was born that way." Sable held up the printout of stats. "Almost certainly his grandmother used gralic sorcery to mutate him while still in utero."
Demrak Jin was on the couch, going over folders about old missions. Her voice was unusually subdued for her. "Do you think the way he looks made regular people mistreat him?"
"Well, sure," said Tim. "Kids get teased for having freckles or wearing braces. Imagine looking like he does."
"It is the same for my people," Jin admitted. "Gelydrim who are weakly or timid are ridiculed to the point that some go into exile or even end their lives." She shrugged. "It's not something I take pride in."
"Dig into some of these reports," Sable said. "We've still two dozen to go through. Tim, use your judgement to say if anything seems promising."
"Last week, there was that supposed Skinwalker sighting in Arizona," Tim said as he sat down next to Jin and took out his Link. "That turned out to be nothing. I'll check our emails."
The next few hours passed slowly as nothing of interest turned up. Tim made a fresh pot of coffee. Tel Shai knights on the Tagra regimen had such enhanced healing that the caffeine had no effect on them. Their bodies treated it as poison and passed it quickly, but they did enjoy the taste and the subconscious shared experience of having a few cups together.
"Our Julie Williamson in Pocatello, Idaho says there's a lot of missing pets lately," Tim said at one point. "Five dogs and seven cats lost in two weeks. People are throwing a fit and demanding the police do something."
Sable had her laptop open and she found the email. "Hmmm. Could be Midnight War. If nothing more critical comes up, I think we'll have a two person team go out there and poke around." She moved on to another report and her voice became much more somber. "Oh. This one could be bad. I felt a chill just reading about it."
V.
At seven the next morning, Clench hurried down the stairs head-first. Using his arms to basically go on all fours seemed completely natural considering his build. He had showered and shaved in the guest room but was still wearing the only clothes he had brought with him. Reaching the ground floor and jumping upright, the apelike man paused to sniff and then grin with a mouth that seemed to take up the lower third of his face. Bacon!
Turning right, he faced the reception room where he had been the previous night. The wall back to the rear of the hall was all chest-high bookcases broken by a closed door at intervals. None of the doors he had seen so far bore any identifying numbers or signs. Hearing cheerful voices and following the bacon temptation, he headed toward the rear wall where an open door showed a round table under a window.
Stepping out into the hall and smiling at him was a remarkably pretty young woman dressed all in white. Just over five feet tall and just under one hundred pounds, she had shining platinum hair hanging straight to her shoulders. Crystal blue eyes in a perfect little face with an upturned nose and slightly cleft chin seemed completely friendly.
"Hey there," she chirped, giving him a mock salute with two fingers up by her right eyebrow. "I'm Ashley, they call me the Unicorn. And you must be our applicant. Clench, right?"
"My God, you're gorgeous."
"I KNOW, right? Takes a lot of work to look like this."
That made him sputter. "Sorry, sorry, that was kind of a bold thing to say the minute you meet someone. Yes, I'm Clench. Clarence Ambrose, actually."
"We were just about to page you. Come on, we're in the dining room today." She led the way to where the voices and aromas were coming from. They entered a quietly elegant room of dark polished wood and subdued lighting, with an original painting of a rocky coast with crashing waves. A single wide mahogany table ran the length of the dining room, and gathered at the near end were five remarkable people setting out pewter serving trays with golden heaps of scrambled eggs, layers of crisp bacon and buttered wheat toast. Pitchers of cranberry juice and ice water were also on the table, and a coffee pot burbled on a side table.
The night before, Clench had met three of these KDF members. Sable, the captain. Timothy Limbo, who he already knew. And the ominous Gelydra woman, Demrak Jin. Seated at the table watching him were also a slender young woman with tousled black hair and sharp shrewd dark eyes. Next to her sat a strongly built man who seemed at first to be Northern Chinese but the high cheekbones and eagle beaked nose argued against that.
As everyone was passing plates around, Sable said, "This is Megan Salenger, the Trom Girl. And this is Sheng Mo-Yuan, known as Argent."
Sheng scoffed. "My code name never really caught on for some reason. Everyone just calls me Sheng. I have to tell you, Clench, we don't admit new members too often. Aside from the required special powers or skills, it's important that new members will be able to fit in with our team. Our lives depend on trusting each other."
Sitting across from them, Megan Salenger had fallen way behind her teammates because she chewed so thoroughly it seemed she hardly needed to swallow. Taking frequent small sips of ice water slowed her down further. "Mr Clench, you should be aware how dangerous being on this team is. Exactly half of our members have died by violence. I accept the risk that I too may well be killed in the line of duty. You should think about this."
"Ah, yeah..." the apelike man replied. "Well. No risk, no glory!"
She kept that serious, analytical gaze on him. "There is more than physical harm, Mr Clench. We constantly have experiences that would be hopelessly traumatic for most people. Very few can handle the horrors we see." She went back to eating as she saw everyone else was finished. Timothy had brought over the waist-high serving cart in preparation to start gathering everything up but he sat back down again.
"We can come back tonight when Megs is done," said Ashley with her sweetest smile.
"Chewing properly releases important digestive enzymes..." began the Trom Girl.
Sable stepped in. "Our briefing can wait a few minutes. Clench, let me give you some background. Megan here is a Human orphan who was raised by the Trom to be a liaison between our two Races. She's a certified genius in a dozen fields. You could say she's our Science Department officer. Sheng is not actually Chinese. He's from the adjacent realm of Chujir. Sheng has an interesting ability. He can channel gralic force to become either much stronger or much quicker or very hard to harm."
"But only one thing at a time?"
Sounding a bit annoyed, Sheng spoke up. "You'll learn more about us if we work together a bit. Anyway, this sort of cute girl here is Ashley Whitaker. Her mother was the first Unicorn and she brought Ashley up to be a Midnight War explorer."
"Adventure girl and full-time heartbreaker, that's me," said Ashley, jabbing a thumb at her own chest. "I don't have any so-called super-powers myself, you understand. But I own a magic Unicorn horn that can take away anyone else's abilities. And undo spells, lift curses, all that. I've saved the day MANY times."
Sitting a seat away from her nearest teammate, Demrak Jin looked up. Even when relaxed, her wide flat face had a sullen cast to it. "I am a Gelydra! We live underwater. We are natural warriors. A Gelydra is born at the same a shark is born, and we have the spirit of the shark in us."
Timothy Limbo laughed. "Believe her. If you're getting beat up by a dozen big guys, there's no one you'd rather see running up than Jin!"
"Thank you," the Gelydra said, not smiling.
As Timothy started loading the plates and silverware and glasses on to the cart, Megan rose to help him. "I would like to wash everything," she said.
"Thanks, but I'm on KP today," Tim told her.
"True, but I do a more thorough job than anyone else."
Sable raised her voice very slightly, "Those can wait a few minutes. Leave the cart aside, Tim, I want to deal with today's business. Clench, we're bending procedure to let you sit in on this...but consider it part of your tryout."
"Great, I'm eager to pitch in."
"Timothy, Jin and I are not going off official duty, but of course we are still on call for emergencies. I am going to stay here at base and be available after I get a few hours sleep. Jocelyn is expected to be here at three this afternoon." Sable clasped her hands together and leaned forward as everyone gave full attention. "Today, I am going to send three members to began an investigation. It's about Lake Wyamahac upstate. People in the resort and the neighboring town are leaving as quick as they can. They report mass nightmares."
VI.
The dayroom of the ALBANY REPUBLIC was high ceilinged with bright fluorescent lightbars over two facing rows of open-topped cubicles. At ten-thirty that morning, Agents McGuire and McGuinn were escorted into that room filled with quiet buzzes of conversation and pointed toward a specific cubicle. As they stood before the opening of that workplace, a thickset middle-aged woman glanced up from her laptop.
Meyer McGuire held his open wallet close enough for her to examine it. "Meredith Ellis? We're from the FBI. Your editor said we could speak with you for a few minutes."
Pushing her cat's-eye glasses back up on her slightly hooked nose, Ellis took a moment to also check out McGuinn's ID. "First, let's get our standing clear? Is this off the record?"
"No, ma'am. But you will understand that we intend to give away as little information as possible."
"Hah! Sounds like a government agency, all right. I take it you've done some basic research on me? Sorry I can't offer you coffee, it's for staff only these days."
Lynne McGuinn leaned forward, hands on her knees, a basic trick of body language to suggest openness and friendliness. "Actually, I was already familiar with your work, Ms Ellis. You were very critical of the way the local FBI office handled that trafficking ring that crossed state lines. You collected a lot of small details hinting that those agents were benefitting from the sex work."
The journalist smiled, raising one eyebrow. "Offended?"
"No. I'm not saying you were wrong, even though all charges ended up being dropped. I love and respect the Bureau but people are people. After that, though, you concentrated on the paranormal. The unexplained. The just plain weird."
Ellis moved her tired eyes over to McGuire's steady gaze. "And what do you think?"
"You've done some deep digging, ma'am. To be frank and maybe a little concerned,. I think you've stirred up some people and groups that it's not safe to learn about."
The journalist glanced out through the open doorway before almost whispering, "You're from Department 21 Black, right?"
"We're here to gather information, ma'am. What exactly is going on in this area?"
"You mean, the fact that two out of three people have traumatic nightmares that leave them panicking and hyperventilating? Or three unexplained deaths in a single week? Or that all the tourists have been packing up and driving away as if there was an evacuation order? Is that what you're asking about?"
VII.
"Yikes," Unicorn whispered, then added, "The last time we checked something like that out, it was the Black Druids. It started with mass nightmares, but soon people were slicing themselves up and mutilating animals!"
"That case was the worst," Sheng agreed. "I don't mind a close call now and then, but that night...!"
Sable agreed but added, "This may not be related. It could easily be an entirely new phenomenon in the Midnight War. But we need to learn more. Megan and Ashley... I want you two to go up there immediately. Use Megan's Jeep and report everything suspicious you turn up."
The three members shot to their feet and pushed their chairs back but paused as their guest spoke.
"Say, Ms Sable," interrupted Clench, raising a broad hairy hand, "Let me go. I'll help out and it's a good chance to learn how the team functions."
The team leader regarded him for a second. "I was thinking of suggesting just that. I have another assignment for Sheng today or I would send him. But this will allow you to experience a glimpse of the Midnight War. Megan, Ashley, leave immediately."
"We have our travel bags already packed," the Unicorn said, hopping up eagerly. "And I'm sure our Science Nerd has her beloved Jeep all inspected and ready to go. Clench, come with us. We're going to the garage on 40th Street. Captain, we'll report as we go."
"As always, be careful and good luck." Sable watched the two young women trot briskly from the dining room with the apelike Clench right behind them.
Clearing her throat, Demrak Jin could not entirely hide the anger in her voice. "I am not in command, captain, but I must say this stranger should not be trusted so quickly!"
"Noted," Sable replied. "Megan and Ashley will be watching him closely and be suspicious of every little move he makes. No one is more wary than those two."
VIII.
At a few minute after one that afternoon, the cherry-red Jeep Cherokee rolled into the town of Wyamahac. On the long drive up from Manhattan, nearly all the conversation had been supplied by Unicorn happily chatting away about how amazing her life had been and drawing Clench out about himself.
Behind the wheel, driving as alertly as the pilot of a jet fighter, Megan Salenger noticed that Ashley had given away almost nothing of the KDF's secrets. Nothing substantial about Tel Shai, nothing about their security or their headquarters or about Hawk Island. Yet she had drawn out their guest to divulge nearly his life story. Megan's upbringing by the emotionless Trom had left her with a constant poker face but she allowed herself one of her subdued smiles. Under Ashley's bubbly and blithe surface was a sharp shrewd mind.
In the front passenger seat, the Unicorn was pulling her shining silver hair into a ponytail and fastening it with an elastic Scunci. "Hey, Trom Girl, we desperately need a bathroom break. You're Human. I know you have a bladder like the rest of us."
"Very well," Megan agreed, pulling into a convenient mart and easing up to the gas pumps. "Clench, we are on an expense account during this assignment. If you want food or drink, put it on Ashley's card but save the receipt."
"Oh, that's good news! Thanks." Before getting out, the strange man covered himself again with the oversized coat and slouch hat. Leaning on his cane, he followed Unicorn into the mart as she remarked how her idea of the food groups included salt, sugar, grease and caffeine.
Megan filled the tank on her Jeep, then pulled around to the side to put air in the tires and check everything. From KDF founder Jeremy Bane, she had picked up the habit of frequently cleaning all the windows inside and out. She also always parked facing out to facilitate a quick getaway. Arming the Trom alarms she had installed herself, Megan went in to use the bathroom and wash up.
When she emerged, she found Ashley and Clench sitting on the ground next to her Jeep and digging into a store bag filled with Nachos, candy bars, hard-boiled eggs and trail mix. Unicorn was swigging a bottle of soda and Clench had finished a beer. Seeing Megan, the little blonde pointed an immaculately manicured finger and said, "Disapproval is dripping off your face, Science Nerd."
"Your food intake is your own choice," the Trom Girl said.
"No speeches about empty carbohydrates? No comments about sodium intake?"
"You already know my views, Ashley, and Clench is an adult able to make his own decisions. However," and here Megan put emphasis in her voice, "Please finish before we leave. I do not want crumbs in my vehicle."
Standing up and stretching his long arms up over his head, Clench said, "I've never been so far away from home before. It's a funny feeling."
"Two hundred and eighteen miles from Manhattan," Unicorn told him. She crumbled all the wrappers together into the plastic bag and went over to drop in the trash bin. "Honestly, this is nothing. We go all over. Sometime I should get a world map and X out all the countries I have graced with my presence."
Suddenly both women straightened up and swung around to face the road. Megan's hand went to grasp a small flat device clipped to her belt. Following their gaze, Clench saw a black Chevrolet Suburban pulling into the parking lot and easing toward them.
"It would be better if you say nothing for the moment," Megan told Clench, who nodded.
Emerging from the car were a man and a woman both dressed in neat dark suits complete with white dress shirts and narrow black ties; the woman wore a pleated skirt instead of trousers. They were both nearly the same height at about five feet ten, both trim and fit looking. The man had short, greying brown hair and the woman had a curly red perm, but their faces were unremarkable, almost anonymous.
Facing them, Ashley Whitaker braced her palms against her hips and smirked. "Drat. Agent McGuinn, Agent McGuire. You guys might as well have signs around your necks that say FBI."
"It's no surprise to run into you two again so soon," said the woman. "McGuire and I are here on official investigation and we thought it possible your little organization might also be interested."
Ashley scoffed. "Yeah, yeah. We're here now so you guys might as well go chase bank robbers and counterfeiters. We'll call you if we need you."
The man McGuire had a remarkably somber voice that gave him gravitas. "We represent a official agency of the United States government. You ladies work for an amateur research group. Be smart, don't get in the way and we won't need to charge you with obstruction."
Before the Unicorn could fire off a retort, Megan interrupted quietly, "We have reason to suspect a monumental danger is threatening the people of this area. You know me. Believe me when I suggest that both our teams may be needed to protect human life and safety."
The two agents glanced at each other, then McGuinn reluctantly turned her unfriendly gaze toward where Clench was sitting and watching. "Who's your friend?"
"He's got a bad case of Never You Mind..." began Ashley but she was cut off again.
Megan said, "We will be talking with local inhabitants as we try to learn more about the situation. Mr Ambrose will be helping us. Agent McGuinn, Agent McGuire, I suggest we all proceed at once."
Meyer McGuire shook his head. "Your KDF has done some good work but you are after all amateurs. We're Federal agents. We know things you don't, we have resources you don't."
The Unicorn made a loud scoffing sound.
The woman agent folded her arms across her chest and exhaled. "Fine. Fine. Little blondie, you're not half as airheaded as you play at being. And you, the Trom liaison, you've proven yourself. Don't think we haven't noticed the dozen homicide cases you've solved across the country. So for the moment, let's just say we can stay out of each other's way. McGuire?"
"Fair enough," he agreed. "Miss Salenger, you still have our numbers?"
"Yes. We will be in touch." Megan turned toward her Jeep and chirped open the doors with her key fob. The two FBI agents swung around to get back into their own vehicle and drive off.
Watching the black SUV leave, Clench asked, "So those were FBI? They didn't hold up their wallet with the ID cards."
"Not just FBI, they're from Department 21 Black," Ashley said. "They're a special unit messing around with Midnight War stuff." She grudgingly added, "Sometimes they're useful."
"Let's get going." Megan climbed in behind the steering wheel and put on her mirrored aviator glasses. As soon as Ashley had buckled up in the passenger seat and Clench had lumbered into the back, she started the finely tuned motor up.
"You know," Unicorn said, "Agent Stiff and Agent Stuffy are likely already questioning local doctors and therapists and such about all the nightmares. We're not going to do too well asking everybody the same questions. Especially since not too many have ever heard of the KDF."
Megan pulled out onto the road and headed into town. "We will have to investigate in a different way. I have a plan."
"Hah! I knew it." Ashley turned her head to grin at Clench. "You'll learn that our Trom Girl ALWAYS has a plan."
IX.
After asking questions at two motels, the KDF team stopped at a row of cabins right on the edge of the lake itself. A redwood dock extended out from the shore with canoes tied up along its side, and there was a barbeque firepit which stood cold and unused. As Clench unfolded himself from the back seat, he observed mildly, "No one in sight! Same as the other places. I know it's after Labor Day, but shouldn't this area be packed with tourists?"
"So you might think," agreed Megan Salenger, gazing out over the pristine surface of the lake to where the soft rounded Catskills rose beyond. "There's been almost no traffic. All the houses we passed had absolutely no one in sight. The deep fear which is gripping this area has pressured everyone to leave who can do so."
"I can feel it," Ashley said quietly. "Look, I'm not psychic at all. Our Teachers at Tel Shai gave up on developing any kind of mystic perception in me but I don't care. I can feel SOMETHING! Something is making the hair on my arms stand up and I'm cold. What's the temp, Megs?"
"Eighty-three point five on the Fahrenheit scale," the Trom Girl replied without checking any instrument. "Sixty-seven per cent humidity with no measurable breeze. We should feel uncomfortable but I also seem to be reacting as if it's a chilly early Winter day."
"This is the Midnight War then?" asked Clench.
"Yeah. And it's going to get bad." The Unicorn turned those crystal blue eyes on their guest with unexpected reprove. "Listen, I wanna tell you something. Maybe you see yourself as a hero getting all the applause and acclaim when you catch the bad guy or slay the monster. It's not like that. We're needed most when things are darkest and no one even knows what's at stake. When the cheering stops. When the trumpets fall silent. That's when our work begins."
The apelike man did not respond for a long moment. "Miss Unicorn, I'm not looking for parades or medals, I just want to do what's right. Well, and get a paycheck as well."
"Hang on a second." Ashley opened the rear area of the Jeep and unfastened a white leather cylinder which tapered two feet from a flat end to a point. Rejoining Megan and Clench, she unsnapped the sheath and drew out her Horn. A slim spiral of ivory with a polished sheen, it was capped at the flat end with a silver disc. She carried it carefully in both hands with the needle-sharp point downward.
"This is why I'm called the Unicorn," she told Clench in a voice completely free of her usual impudence. "No one knows how old it is. It belonged to my mother, the first adventurer called Unicorn and now it's mine."
"It's beautiful," breathed Clench, leaning forward on his cane. "I didn't know there were real Unicorns!"
"Oh, yes. The Unicorn is in its way a holy beast. It has a spiritual purity." Ashley touched the cap at the flat end. "This is Ensalir, silver which has been blessed by the immortal Eldanarin themselves. My Horn breaks curses, dispels harmful energy, protects the innocent. When I speak my mantra, the Horn takes away anyone's gralic powers for an hour or so."
Clench pushed back his slouch hat to leave his pleasantly homely face exposed. "I... I guess there's more to you than meets the eye, Miss Unicorn."
Beside him, Megan commented, "Don't let Ashley's mannerisms mislead you. She is a knight of Tel Shai the equal of any other."
"Hell yeah," the Unicorn said with a sudden grin breaking out. "I talk a lot of trash and crack wise but I take our mission seriously. Listen, you guys. The Horn is feeling warm. The Ensalir cap is almost painfully hot to the touch. We're close to something both potent and malicious. There! In the lake."
The three of them stared at the mirror surface of water untouched by the slightest breeze. The air was heavy and clammy. Megan was taking readings on her Link, "I can not detect anything out of the ordinary but that is inconclusive. Midnight War threats do not always register on scientific instruments."
"Brrr," Clench said, turning toward the two women. "You're giving me the creeps big time. I'm actually scared."
"You should be," Unicorn told him.
X.
"Wait! Go back. Turn around."
At the wheel of the black Suburban, McGuire braked hard and made a tight three point turn. "What? What is it?"
"I saw something. There, the house on the right."
At eight-thirty, it was just getting dark that time of year. McGuire slowed by the long gravel driveway and came to a stop. "No lights on in that house, no vehicles in sight."
Lynne McGuinn seldom touched her partner but she grasped his arm now. "Pull in. I think this is important."
"If you say so." The small one-story house of red brick stood in a poorly tended yard of rank brown grass with a single forlorn apple tree drooping nearby. As McGuire turned off the motor, he swung his gaze all around. "Well?"
Already getting out, McGuinn said over one shoulder, "On the tree. Come on!"
In the gloom, Agent McGuire took out his pencil flashlight. It took a few seconds to figure out what he was looking at. Hanging upside down, a freshly skinned cat had been nailed to the apple tree. Blood had barely dried. Around the appalling sight, an oval had been drawn in white paint with esoteric symbols circling its outer rim.
"Those Who Remember," he breathed. "Our department has tangled with them too many times. I'd know that symbol anywhere."
"A Black Magic cult, if I remember right. Some nonsense about freeing evil ancient gods who want to clear the Earth of all life. But," she added, "crazy as they might be, it doesn't matter if they're right or not. All the crimes they commit for their beliefs are real enough."
"There was that Burning Skies incident in the Southwest years ago," McGuire said. "So many files are classified above our level, but..."
Seeing him hesitate, McGuinn stepped back a pace.
"How could you have seen this from the road? In this light?" he asked, turning around to find himself facing the barrel of her service revolver.
As McGuire froze in confusion and alarm, a short stocky man in rough work clothes emerged from around the house. He was carrying a Marlin hunting rifle. Shifting it to one hand, he reached to the agent's waist and tugged the service weapon out.
"I don't understand," McGuire gasped. "Why are you doing this? What's this all about?"
She snorted and gestured toward their car. "Get moving. Art, you drive and I'll keep him covered." Only after handcuffing his wrists behind him did her voice give away less tension. "You fools have no idea how infiltrated the Bureau is by mystic groups. The Preincarnators, Red Sect, the White Web. Those Who Remember is no different. I was helped through the Academy by experts in case I was needed."
By then, they had reached the car and McGire compliantly got into the back seat. "McGuinn....what's going on here? What's your plan?"
That made her laugh out loud. "You won't be alive to see it."
XI.
ANGELINA'S sat at an intersection of two roads, where a dozen Harleys and two Dodge pick-ups sat in the gravel parking lot. Where rowdy laughter might have been expected, non escaped the interior as Megan led Clench and Ashley out into the dusk.
"I can't believe you ate a whole pizza by yourself," the Unicorn was saying.
Clench scoffed. "What can I say, I'm a big boy."
"And a Meat Lover's Pizza at that! Sausage, pepperoni, salami, ostrich for all I know! Megan had two slices, I managed three. Sheesh."
Chirping open the door of her Jeep, the Trom Girl allowed a tinge of weariness into her voice. "I am not satisfied with today's gathering of data."
"Yeah, it was disappointing," Ashley agreed, getting into the front passenger seat. "People kept starting to spill what they're afraid of and then they change their minds and back away from us."
"Well honestly, I'm impressed by the way you ladies gather information. You don't keep asking questions, you sort of set up that you're open to listening and people begin unloading. Nice technique."
Seeing everyone was strapped in, Megan started up the engine but paused before moving her vehicle. "It is unexpected to see those bikers so cowed and uneasy. Generally they are classified as not easily intimidated."
"You got that right," Ashley put in. "They were acting as if they were waiting for the worst bad news ever. They stared down, they weren't meeting each other's eyes. And when toughened One Percenters like them sit for an hour and barely touch their beer... well, that snaps up a big ol' red flag."
Easing out onto a deserted road to their left, Megan Salenger said, "Every car I have observed today has been heading out of town."
"I'm getting scared," Clench whispered. Both of his new teammates glanced back at him. 'Maybe I shouldn't admit it, a big galoot like me..."
Hearing the shame in his voice, Ashley made her own tones less flippant. "Nothing wrong with that, Clench. We're in the vicinity of one of the worst known monsters ever. Wherever a Sulla Chun manifests, people lose their minds and animals run away as fast as they can. Heck, I've seen earthworms come up out of the ground by the hundreds and have seizures when a Sulla Chun showed up."
The apelike man did not respond. After a minute, Megan said, "We may not show it because of our training and experience, Clench, but both Ashley and I are seriously frightened at this time. My pulse is high, my adrenalin has surged and I find myself over-reacting to any slight movement nearby."
"That does make me feel better," he admitted. "If I'm going to join the team, I better toughen up though."
Ashley was still watching him. "You'd have to be insane or stupid not to be afraid. Being brave is charging ahead anyway. Kind of an important realization in the crunch."
"When the trumpets go silent," Clench said to himself.
After a hushed thoughtful ride, they returned to the lakeside hotel and pulled into the same spot they had left hours ago. As soon as Megan turned off the engine, Clench said, "Wait. What's floating on the water?"
"Fish," answered the Trom Girl. "Thousands of dead fish."
Ashley was out of the Jeep and over by the shore of the lake, quick as a squirrel, the unsheathed Unicorn horn in her hands. She tapped the Ensalir cap on its end with a finger. "It's burning hot! I've never felt it sting like that."
"This is horrible." Clench had left his topcoat and fedora in the Jeep, leaning forward on his stiffened arms like an actual ape. "We shouldn't get too close. What if, I dunno, some noxious gas was released? Methane or Carbon Dioxide...?"
"I am not detecting any harmful contaminants in the air," Megan said. She examined the screen of her Link and turned her head toward her teammates. "But I personally am feeling uncomfortable. There is a feeling of pressure in my head and I am breathing with more effort than normal."
"Scan us, Science Nerd," Ashley urged.
"This is unexpected. Your blood oxygen level is only ninety per cent. Your blood pressure is one hundred and forty-five over one hundred and ten. Heartbeat is one hundred and eleven. These are alarming counts for you, Ashley." She waved the device at Clench. "Your readings are concerning as well. Do you feel unusual symptoms?"
The apelike man had let his head sag but now he drew himself together. "Anxiety attack, maybe? I dunno. I feel very strongly I should run like hell and get away from here. Look. Is that.. a whirlpool?"
The three of them made their way to the end of the dock where an eddy ten feet across. Steam hissed from its maw. As they watched, the mass of dead fish were drawn down into the depths.
"Dayum...." Clench muttered as he stared.
Behind him, he heard Ashley activate her Link. "Sable? Sable, come in."
A friendly male voice sang out from the device. "Hi, Unicorn. This is Tim. Sable rushed our team to Androval. Big Trouble, the Mountain Trolls seem to lost their minds altogether."
"What? Who else is available? Where's Jeremy? Or Sheng?"
Let's see, Jeremy is near Mesa Rojo, Arizona. Skinwalkers. Last we heard from Sheng, e had been digging around the Pelican's gang. What's going on, Ash, you sound a little worked up.."
Swinging over, Megan grabbed the Link in Ashley's hand and pulled it up closer to her mouth. "Trom Girl calling Code Red! Sulla Chun sighting."
"Understood," Tim answered. "Sounding the alert."
Breaking the connection, Megan pushed both her partners back to the far end of the deck. "Unicorn, you and I must get in full field suits. Clench, come with us into the rented room. Hurry!"
Inside, Ashley and Megan quickly stripped off their civilian clothes. Underneath, they were wearing skin-tight leotards of what looked like dark wet silk, leaving only their heads, hands and feet exposed.
"No charge for the show," Unicorn smirked. She and the Trom Girl whipped on their field suits with the smoothness of long practice. All black, the snug pants and mid-calf boots and long-sleeved jersey shirts were followed by the waist-length jackets. A needle-barreled anesthetic dart gun in its belt holster and the Unicorn horn were Ashley's final additions. Megan's suit featured the beam projector device and, between her shoulder blades, the flattened metal disc of the gravity shield.
"Wow, you two are fast!"
"Heh, we get marks on it during our training," Ashley laughed. "A buzzer sounds any time in the night and we have to be suited up in twelve seconds. The first week, I had my jacket on backwards and my boots on the wrong feet."
Megan stepped closer and handed over a small trinket which Clench accepted. "Please listen. This is a protective talisman crafted by the immortal Eldanarin on Elvedal itself. The eight-spoked wheel is a symbol of Tel Shai and only knights of our Order are gifted these."
Clench held it up to the motel room light. On a finely-linked chain was supported a delicate open wheel with eight spokes, crafted of a metal the palest gold imaginable. It brought warmth and comfort, and he felt his hand stop trembling. "Beautiful...."
"Clench, treat this seriously. Wear this around your neck tonight. Hold the wheel in your hand tightly. It is the best protection possible against indescribable danger."
From one side, Ashley added, "Megan describes totaling your car as an inconvenience. When she talks like this, better believe it."
Clench's broad homely face settled into somber lines. "Are you two going to be safe?"
"Nope, being safe is nowhere in the job description." The Unicorn had tied back her gleaming hair into a bun and lowered the helmet down to fasten it airtight with the high collar of her jacket. A clear visor slid down to click into place. "Wouldn't have it any other way."
Having fastened her own helmet, Megan opened the door. All three froze into position as they saw the twilight outside was now lit by a dark lurid red radiance from the lake. A spotlight of deep red illumination shone straight up into the air which had turned humid and oppressive.
"Drat, it didn't look like that a minute ago," Unicorn observed. She and the Trom Girl forced their way outside as if walking against stiff gale force winds. "I'm definitely hearing wailing voices, Megs."
"Visual and auditory hallucinations are a symptom of Sulla Chun appearances," Megan told her. There was clear strain in her voice, something almost unprecedented for her.
Ashley was swatting angrily with the Unicorn horn at empty air. "Dammit. It's like when you glimpse something out of the corner of your eye but it's not there when you turn your head. This sucks big time!"
"I will attempt the photon ram at high intensity," Megan declared, stepping up onto the dock. All the dead fish had long been sucked down into the maelstrom.
"Ack! Something just ran up my leg! No, it's gone. Wait, Megan, lemme try my horn, it's sacred magic from the Eldanarin themselves, when has it ever let us down?"
The little blonde pushed past her best friend to the far edge of the pier where she could have stared down into the boiling red whirlpool. Instinct warned her to turn her head. Ashley raised the Unicorn horn, blessed by the Eldanarin thirty thousand years ago, took a deep unsteady breath and screamed, "With this Horn I remove this power!"
Thunder cracked unbearably close. The Unicorn was lifted up head high off the pier and smashed into Megan so violently that both flew back twenty feet to thump on the ground.
Pinned down under a limp form, Megan thought for one terrifying instant that she had been blinded. No. It was the visor. The controls didn't respond. She unlocked the chin strap manually and yanked the helmet off to take deep shuddering breaths.
As close to panic as she had over come, the Trom Girl clamped down with all her discipline. She saw Ashley's visor was also charred black. If the internal systems were down, it meant her friend wasn't getting any air. Megan got the helmet off and felt immense relief seeing Unicorn gasp and cough.
Steam was rising from both of them. The air was more oppressive than any jungle. Finally satisfied that Ashley was breathing freely, Megan disentangled herself and tried to stand up but fell hard on her face. Her arms and legs were as numb as if they had been severed.
She could not rise. Beside her, a delirious Unicorn was twitching and mumbling, "Get 'em off, get 'em off me!"
The rushing of the whirlpool had deepened to a roar. The shaft of red flame blazed up into the night sky, casting new shadows. Fumbling with her devices, with the controls built into her suit, Megan found that none of the Trom tech functioned. Maybe it was as well that none of the team had arrived, she thought in her daze. Why should they all die?
Then Megan heard a car door slam not three feet from her head.
XII.
A hand seized her damp hair and twisted her head around. Megan glared up into the gleeful face of Agent McGuinn. "I'm glad you're still alive, little girl. You mustn't die yet. Not before the Old One crosses over."
Nearby, a man's voice added, "Blondie here's still among the living, mistress. She don't look too hot, to be honest."
"They only need to survive a few more minutes," McGuinn chuckled. "Once the Old One leaves the Spaces Between Spaces, we can cut their throats to the bone with no problem."
"That still confuses me, ma'am," said the man. "I always thought you summoned demons and devils WITH human sacrifice, and now I find out that's wrong?"
McGuinn let Megan's head fall back to the boards of the dock with a clunk, "Watch your tongue, fool. The Sulla Chun are no mere demons. They are spawn of the Halarin and Halarim. They reigned over this world before the stain of life, when it was only pure molten rock, and they are ready to return."
Hyperventilating in her distress, Megan Salenger finally managed to prop herself up on one elbow. Looming up over her stood Department 21 Black Agent Lynn McGuinn. Next to her was a short man in coveralls. In the deep crimson glow from the whirlpool, their gloating faces shone with sweat.
"Only a few more minutes and Those Who Remember will finally be vindicated!" McGuinn screamed as loud as she possibly could. "This fallen world will be cleansed! It has be worth all the toil and--ArgghKK!"
A powerful hand had seized her by the throat, cutting off her voice and the last thing she knew was being hauled up into the air and flung down into that steaming maelstrom with her fellow cult member right after her. Their wails broke after a split-second as boiling hot water closed over them.
Falling to his hands and knees on the far edge of that dock, Clarence Ambrose stared straight down into the whirlpool and saw what no mortal eye was ever meant to behold.
XII.
Hours later, Megan came back to full awareness to find Unicorn was sitting behind her, holding her up in her arms. The stars were out full force in a clear, crisp sky. "Ashley..?"
"Hi, Science Nerd. Bet you feel like I do, and I feel like I was beaten senseless with baseball bats. Can you sit up?"
"Yes. Ow. What's the situation?"
Unicorn sighed and propped her friend up next to her before answering. "It's a mixed bag, to be honest, one of those bitter victories. The Sulla Chun is gone. Those Who Remember went with them into whatever metaphysical prison where they're kept." She shifted around to make Megan more comfortable. "I can barely walk. I found the other Department 21 Black agent in the trunk of that car. He's alive but completely out of it. I found my Horn, it's not damaged but that's more than I can say for poor Clench."
Struggling up to brace herself with feet wide apart, Megan held onto her partner. "Did... did Clench intervene?"
"Yes. He must have been absolutely terrified at the hallucinations and everything, but I'm sure I saw him throw McGuinn and that farmer into the hole. That was the human sacrifice needed to send the Sulla Chun back. Neither of us were in any shape to do it."
"There he is," Megan said, striding over stiff-legged to drop to her knees next to the great bulk huddled in a ball on the dock. When she touched him, Clench whined and slapped her hands away. Coaxing and whispering in gentle tones got no better response.
He clumsily resisted being turned onto his back and was too strong for them to prevent his curling back up into the fetal position. "His pupils are dilated," Megan observed. "Skin is cold and clammy. I'm taking his pulse at one hundred and twenty. None of my equipment is functional, though."
Ashley had sagged down next to her and was fumbling with one of the magazines for her weapon. "Here. I've got an anesthetic dart. They should still work."
"Yes. Getting his heartbeat and adrenal levels under control will help." Megan jabbed the point into that thick neck. Within a few seconds, Clench slumped down and exhaled. He began breathing normally.
"I think he saw the Sulla Chun at close range," Ashley whispered. "Our Teachers warned us that our brains can't handle that. It's overload. We burn out."
Megan got up on her feet, more confidently. "The Teachers should be able to heal him. Cindy's a telepath. Kerlaw and Ted Wright are Blue Guides. A regimen of Tagra may help."
"Give me a minute, I'll help lug him into our car. Then we need to check on Agent McGuire but 21 Black can take care of him. Clench is our guy." Ashley's voice cracked, "This was his tryout! His big chance. Looks like he may never even know how well he did."
9/14/2024
no subject
Date: 2024-09-14 08:16 pm (UTC)You'd think the author could just decide and declare with no problem, but it's not like that (for me at least). When I try to write something that doesn't feel right, it simply will not form. And, many times, a character will seem to defy me and veer the plot off into a direction I wasn't planning.
What a weird hobby.