Emergence (49 page)

I said, “I still don’t see what it has to do with me. He’s down, game over. Then you guys came along.”

“Just watch,” said White, “and learn.”

He panned the view up and to the right, and then zoomed in even more. I saw a car, two heads up in the front seat. The nearest window was down, and the guy was holding a video camera, filming me and the fight. I could only see one of his eyes, but it sure wasn’t normal. It had the same red I’d seen in the eyes of the creep I’d taken down. More zoom, and I could see it wasn’t a glow. The guy’s iris was definitely bright red.

“Someone’s fucked with your feed. That’s just some local jock grabbing footage for his YouTube channel. Besides, I can take care of myself.”

“I can guarantee this footage is not corrupted.”

I rolled my eyes. “All right, well, the Pope shits in the woods, too.”

“I see that I’ll have to give you some time to come to your senses.” He stood up. “Follow me.” He walked to the door and opened it. I followed. He gestured at me to walk back out to the corridor.

“Take the red door,” said White from behind me. “Take note of where we are, as well. You
will
want to find your way back here.”

I ignored him and left through the red door.

FOUR

I stepped out into blazing sunlight. Once my eyes adjusted, I found myself outside in what looked like a run-down warehouse in an abandoned industrial area. Not what I’d expected. It was one hell of a weird-ass place on the inside, so I thought the outside would be some gleaming ultra-modern building. Nope. Plain as a two-dollar whore.

I took a good look, just in case White was right. Grey steel, from top to bottom. Louvered windows, wooden doors that, from the outside, looked weak and flimsy but were likely steel-cored.

I checked my phone. The GPS showed I was in Motor Hills’ Eastside. A rough neighborhood. The industrial area had hundreds of warehouses, busy, abandoned, and everything in between. Nice camouflage. Hidden in plain sight. I made a note of the address, just in case, then turned and made my way toward the nearest bus route.

An hour later I was walking up the path to my front door. I stopped. The door was open; only an inch, but that’s an inch more than it should have been. My senses flared as I checked around for any sign of being watched. Nothing. Nothing I could see, anyway, but whoever the fuck was inside were in for a shock.

I edged up to the door, stood to the side, and eased it open with one hand. If someone decided to shoot first and rob later, I was to the side of where most people would aim. The door lightly tapped into the wall. No-one behind it. I stood for a second, letting my eyes adjust to the dim light. The hall looked normal. Nobody in sight, and nothing disturbed on the bench just inside.

“Hey, mister?”

The voice from behind caught me off guard. I spun and put my back against the side of the small porch, out of the way of attack from inside the house…and from the little girl staring innocently at me.

Nice one, doofus
, I thought. “What the hell? Get outta here, girl. Now.”

“Well, that’s no way to talk to a little girl,” she said, smiling. Curly red hair, blue eyes, and razor sharp teeth.

Little Orphan Annie with real bite.

While I was taking this in something leaped from inside the open doorway and slammed into my side. I managed to stay on my feet as whatever-it-was clawed at my arm and ribs. I spun and slammed into the wall next to my front door, making sure to cushion the impact with my unwanted pal.

Whatever-it-was squealed and fell away from me. My arm hurt, but my ribs were fine. Thank fuck for anti-stab vests. I barely had time to gather my wits when something hit me from the opposite side. I grabbed Little Orphan Annie by her skinny throat and threw her onto the other…kid?

Kids, for fucksake!

They both fell into a wriggling pile. I staggered past them and into the house, slamming and bolting the door with them still on the porch.

What just happened? Attacked by kids? Two little girls with Major League dental issues?

My head spun. I had to be hallucinating. They both looked exactly the fucking same. Like twins. Or more like clones. Damn, my head hurt, and not just from the trauma of today.

As I tried to pull my shit together, I realized the first one to ambush me had come from
inside
the house. That’s when I heard a growl as another small body struck the backs of my knees, taking me down faster than a chainsaw to a tent-pole.

I fell, reacting without any further thought, as I reached down, grabbed the third attacker by both sides of the head and tried to twist it off. I didn’t manage to remove it, but the sound of cracking bones and the sudden limpness convinced me that I’d killed it. I threw it off me and saw it was another young girl, eight or nine years old, dressed as a Girl Guide. She looked exactly the same as the others outside.
Fucking triplets, or some sort of chimeric?

I threw up in my mouth a little. I could handle killing, sure, but
kids
, for Christ’s sake.

The door shuddered behind me. The pair outside obviously wanted in on the action.

“I don’t want any fucking cookies, all right?” I yelled, suppressing a giggle at the same time. I was going insane. If I started laughing, I wouldn’t stop until they closed the door on the padded cell.

I turned and ran into the lounge, stepping over the body in the hall. It lay on its back, mouth open in a grimace.
Fuck
. A little girl. With jagged teeth. Like the ones outside my door. Fucking monsters. Fucking chimerics. Likely the shape-shifting kind.

“Yoo-hoo, mister! Come play with us,” one of the things crooned through the door. “We’re bored. We want to play.”

“Yeah, I’m kind of busy now,” I yelled while I grabbed the Glock 17 I kept locked and loaded under my couch’s cushions. “Go play somewhere else, you little freaks!”

“We’re waiting for youuuuu…” the voice called back. “Dornasian sent us to play, and he’ll be very angry if we don’t.”

Dornasian
? I thought.
What the fuck is a Dornasian?
I checked the mag and chamber of my emergency pistol. I’m pretty fucking sure this classified as one.

The door slammed open.

“Here we coooome… ready or not.” Giggles. Then silence. No footsteps. No movement. I racked the slide on the Glock, checking again that I had a round ready to go. I moved to the other side of the couch, putting it between me and the door.

“Where aaaare you?” More giggling, then silence.

I squatted down behind the couch, pistol ready. If I made it out of here without being killed by a multitude of Little Orphan Annies, I had some hard fucking questions for Mr. White.

The house rocked as something exploded in the hall, followed by screams. It almost covered the scratching sound that came from behind me.
Shit!
I swung around to stare at another kid. Or the same one. It was hard to tell the difference.

She smiled and stepped forward. I grimaced as I shot her in the face.

Guess who won?

From the hallway I heard barked commands, loud stomping, more screams that sounded Girl Guide-ish. Shots in three-round bursts. I stayed behind the couch. I’d be stupid to step out, or even reveal where I was, until whatever the fuck was happening happened. Sounded like assault rifles out there, and a Glock was no match for that level of firepower.

“Clear!” I heard someone yell. “Stoner. You here?”

I assumed it was one of White’s goons.

“Yeah. Here.” I grabbed a cushion and threw it to hit the door, worried that if I made a sudden appearance I’d end up riddled with rounds. I heard more boots on the hardwood floor and the door slammed open, showing Dumb in full combat gear aiming an assault rifle in my direction.

I raised my hands, sure that there were at least a couple more guys stacked up beside the door, ready to clear the room if it came to it. The Glock dangled loose from my trigger finger in the guard. Dumb moved into the room and stepped to the right, rifle still ready just in case. Good training. Behind him, Dumber came in, dressed and equipped the same. They were followed by another two guys I hadn’t seen before. I watched as they looked at the girl behind me.

“Dead?” asked Dumb.

“As a doornail,” I replied, “unless they can come back to life from having their head blown off.”

“You should be ready to talk to White now. Am I right?” Dumb asked, his eyes never leaving the small body on the floor.

“Yeah.” I looked past them to the blackened walls and burned carpets, to the other three small bodies lying on the floor. “What about them?”

“We have someone coming to clean up,” said Dumber. “Don’t worry about it.”

“Fine. Let’s get the hell out of here.”

FIVE

Half an hour later I was in the same office in the same warehouse in the same half-desolate industrial area. White sat across the desk from me, and his two soldiers were, as far as I knew, outside the door. After their rescue, I felt sort of bad keeping them filed in my head as Dumb and Dumber anymore, though on the way back they weren’t forthcoming with names. Anyway, it was just like this morning, but now I was ready to hear White out.

“So, these things are after me now?” I asked.

“You saw too much,” said White. “They tend to clean up after themselves when it comes to public knowledge.”

“What the fuck am I involved in?”

“Hell on Earth, Stoner. Hell on Earth.” White folded his hands together in front of his face. “You are now part of the enlightened few. Most in your position are dead. You, however, seem a little harder to kill, which is why I need to ask you a few questions and then perhaps make you a job offer.”

“I’ve got a job, thanks, and I’ll be happy to answer your questions if you do me the courtesy of answering mine.”

“As to the questions, no problem,” said White. “As to your job, I’m afraid they no longer require your services.”

“What d’ya mean ‘no long require my services’?”

“Exactly that,” said White. He reached for his remote, flicking the screen on to a news bulletin. It was a live shot, some reporter on a familiar street; the smoldering ruin in the background was my house.

…the cause of the fire is unknown. At present there are no further statements, but we have been told, off the record, that the owner of the house is deceased, a victim of the blaze. We will update as more information becomes available.

“What?” I went to stand. “I’m not fucking dead.”

White motioned me back down. “Let me explain.”

“This better be good,” I said. “My insurance is lapsed, and I need to make a few calls.”

“It will all be taken care of, Mister Stoner.”

“Yeah, your goon squad told me it would be cleaned up.” I didn’t feel so bad again. “Look at my fucking house!”

“The house is immaterial,” said White. “You have moved beyond your past life anyway.” He opened a drawer and pulled out a bottle of single malt and two shot glasses. “Drink?”

“My whole fucking life is burning down, so I might as fucking well,” I said, unable to believe the luck I’d had today.

“Your body, or at least one matching your physical description, will be identified from the fire. The girls, for want of a better word, are gone, no sign left for anyone to find. You will cease to exist. Your estate, what there is of it, will pass over to your sister in Cleveland, including the fast-tracked insurance payment on your house. As far as the rest of the world is concerned, you will never be heard from again.” White stood and switched off the screen. “For you, the only place left is with us. It’s lucky we want your skills.”

“And what skills are those, pray tell?” I needed time to think about all this, but it didn’t seem I had any.

White smiled. “I know about your background, your service with the military.” He poured two shots of whisky and passed one to me. “To be specific, we know you served with the Australian Special Air Service Regiment for seven years. Combat missions and deep cover operations in the Middle East, in Africa, and in Asia.”

No bluffing this guy. He knew too much about me. “And?” I took a sip of the whisky. It was good. The burn was hardly noticeable. “I don’t remember ever fighting chimerics. Certainly not some rogue group.”

“True, Mister Stoner. Most people who fight these things don’t survive. The few who do are labelled as suffering extreme PTSD. Most end up dead, even if they survive the initial battle. You saw for yourself that these creatures tend to clean up after themselves.” White let his drink sit untouched. “You know, the government has been cracking down lately, with public opinion being what it is, all chimerics have to be registered, monitored, segregated, if necessary. No-one trusts them. No-one likes the fact they have these abilities.”

“Yeah,” I said. “I’m aware of the situation. I think the vast majority are suffering because of the actions of the few, but I sorta sympathize. Some of these fuckers are vastly powerful.” I finished my glass in one swallow and reached for the bottle. White nudged it toward me. I refilled and drank again. Whisky warmth seeped out from my gut. “First up, tell me how these things are organised. And what the hell is a Dornasian?”

“The world you live in, Mister Stoner, holds many things that aren’t supposed to be, yet they
are
.” He reached over and pulled the bottle back.

“I wasn’t finished.”

He slid the bottle back into the drawer. “I think you need to stay clear-headed for this discussion, Mister Stoner.”

I sighed. “Just get on with it.” Then I settled back into the chair and listened.

Twenty minutes later, I was more informed, yet if I hadn’t seen things with my own eyes, I would have thought him some mental asylum escapee instead of, as he’d said, someone in charge of an agency tasked with defending humanity from the things that creep in the dark. Ever since chimerics had become accepted as public knowledge, the government had done its best to convince the public they weren’t in any true danger. But people
had
worried. Bias had built, anti-chimeric associations had flourished, and there had been some damned terrible things done in the name of ‘protecting humanity from the freaks’. It was, I always thought, only a matter of time before chimerics banded together and fought back.