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“Right, that didn’t work,” Dan stated. He kept pumping in Bartholomew’s gas anyway, just in case. “Plan B.”
He turned to the Coldwater commander. “How much of that sticky ammo do you have?”
“Enough,” the mercenary replied flatly.
“If you can spare some of it for me, I want to try and drop a literal ton of it on Cannibal while he’s stuck inside an enclosed space.”
Abby’s eyes lit up. “That might actually work! Or at least slow him down!”
Dan checked Cannibal’s progress. He had officially crossed beneath the mansion’s boundaries. If he went straight up, he’d be inside one of the kitchens. The foundations were reinforced, but Cannibal was very strong. It wouldn’t hold him forever. Fortunately, he either didn’t know, or didn’t care. He continued his steady pace forward, all but swimming through the dirt.
“So where do you keep it?” Dan pressed. “The armory?”
The Coldwater commander’s helmet obscured most of his face. His lips and chin were barely visible and they were pressed together in a pinched expression.
“The special properties of our ammunition emerge from a chemical reaction,” he said, hesitantly. “Lady Anastasia had it developed for specific use against enemies with high durability and strength. It was never designed to be a standalone substance.”
The commander paused his explanation and removed the magazine from his assault rifle. He racked the slide, caught the ejected round, and showed it to Abby. It looked like a normal bullet, but the tip was an inky black.
“You can’t just remove the liquid,” the commander explained. “It needs to be fired. We don’t just have a barrel of it laying around somewhere.”
“Okay.” Dan tried not to curse. They didn’t have time for this. Cannibal was inching ever closer. “Plan C, then. Abby, get inside that panic room.”
The Summers’ panic room was enormous. Capable of holding up to thirty people in relative comfort, it was essentially an entirely separate house, only underground, with two-foot thick walls surrounding it. Past eighteen inches of metal were another few layers of odd materials that Dan couldn’t begin to identify, some wood, and a great deal of insulation. There was no possible way for anyone inside the panic room to hear what was happening outside of it.
Which made it all the more disturbing when they heard soft scratching through the walls.
Cannibal had found the edge of the panic room. It was impossible for him not to; the structure was simply too large to miss. His tunnel stalled outside the northern wall, where the monstrous Natural was currently running his clawed fingertips across the reinforced surface blocking his path forward. Each gentle caress left a trail of tiny scratches in the metal. Dan’s veil traced them. It was obvious Cannibal wasn’t trying all that hard. He was too busy savoring the moment.
Abby’s extended family was panicking in a sort of controlled fashion. They’d chosen to distract themselves from their impending doom by loudly arguing with each other while the service staff milled nervously beside them. The remaining Coldwater guards had corralled them all near the exit, a simple set of retractable stairs, and were tensely awaiting word from their commander on a plan.
“The walls should hold,” the commander said with admirable steadiness. His head, though, gave away his nerves. It continuously flicked towards the wall, and the quiet scraping sounds beyond it.
Dan shook his head. “I’m not so sure.”
“We only need to stall.”
Dan checked the time on his phone. “For twenty more minutes. I don’t know if we have that long. If Cannibal makes it inside this’ll be a slaughter.”
The scratching grew louder, culminating in a harsh squeal. Dan’s veil felt the outer layer of steel being peeled apart like an onion. They didn’t have many options. He’d long since run out of Bartholomew’s anesthetic. Cannibal had breathed it in like it was oxygen, and seemed little worse for wear. The predatory Natural was moving slowly, but that seemed more out of cruelty than any impediment.
Abby stepped forward with a look of stubborn determination. “I can be bait.”
Both men stared at her.
“That’s silly, dear,” Dan said.
“I cannot risk your life, Ms. Abigail,” the commander agreed.
Abby looked mutinous. “You said it looked like he was after me. Well, there’s an easy way to find out. I’ll leave the safe room and see if he follows. He’s obviously using his power to track us somehow. It’s not like he can use a GPS while he’s digging underground.”
Dan ignored his girlfriend’s terrible plan. He looked up at the ceiling. “Please tell me there are defenses in here.”
“Two turret emplacements,” the commander nodded, pointing them out. “Any more would risk friendly fire incidents, and this is meant to be a sanctuary.”
Dan turned to the corner of the room, where a secondary security console had been placed. One of the guards was monitoring the cameras, but the grounds seemed empty.
“I say we book it,” Dan decided. He checked Cannibal’s progress and winced. Already halfway through, and the man was not in any hurry. “The rest of the mansion seems safe. Your sensors haven’t picked up any other enemies. You’ve got cars. Load up the civilians and drive off.”
“Boats,” Abby interrupted with a scowl. “The bridge is destroyed, remember? We have to take a boat off the island.”
“Car, boat, just be elsewhere.” Dan felt as Cannibal hit the first layer of unidentifiable materials and stopped cold. The foul creature tapped a sharp claw against the surface, leaving it unmarred.
“It’s entirely possible that there are enemies waiting outside the mansion grounds,” the commander noted gravely. “I cannot guarantee the safety of your family, Ms. Abigail. I’ve lost many of my men.”
Abby turned towards her family. They’d checked out of the conversation entirely. Her brother was shouting at one of her many cousins about something completely irrelevant to the current situation. Her face twisted unpleasantly, and she made the call.
“Get them out of here.”
“You too,” Dan added. Abby started to protest but he cut her off. “If Cannibal changes directions, we’ll know who he’s tracking and we can plan around it. If he doesn’t change directions, then he’s hunting someone else, or finding his way with some other kind of hoodoo.”
“What about you?” she demanded.
“I can teleport,” Dan pointed out. “I’ll hit him hard, then join you.”
Cannibal drew back his arm and thrust it forward. His claws gouged a six inch hole through the panic room’s first layer of not-steel. The noise was like a car accident happening inside the room. Everyone present flinched, and the arguing Summers went silent as the grave. Steel bent and warped and screeched as Cannibal widened the hole. Six more inches of meta-material remained, then there would be nothing but wood and sheetrock between Cannibal and the shelter.
“We’re out of time,” the commander said. He shouldered his weapon and shouted to his men, “Get the civilians loaded up! Go!”
While the soldiers went about their business, Dan turned his mind to t-space. Two logs fell through the void at blistering speeds. It wasn’t enough. Not nearly. Cannibal had shrugged off the last two hits without even blinking. They’d acted more as an inconvenience than a threat.
Faster, Dan urged. Faster. He’d never have a better opportunity. Cannibal was in an enclosed space, not expecting an attack. He couldn’t miss. He just needed to make it count. Faster, he demanded. Go faster! Damn the consequences!
He threw away his fear. They were on an island, on a large and isolated piece of private property. The civilians were leaving, as was Abby. Dan would be alone with Cannibal. He didn’t have to care one whit about collateral damage. He could hit as hard as he wanted. He just needed to go faster.
The room had emptied. He stood by the edge of the stairs, as Abby hugged him tight. Cannibal’s sharp claws tore through another layer of the panic room. Whatever super-metals Anastasia had commissioned were holding well against the Natural’s strength, but it wouldn’t last forever.
“Don’t die,” Abby ordered, and kissed him hard. The commander led her away, giving Dan a nod.
“Meet us at the harbor,” the mercenary said. “We won’t be able to wait for long.”
“I’ll beat you there,” Dan replied, and then they were gone.
Dan followed their progress out. His veil clung to Abby’s shoe as she took a final step into the waiting car. Then he was alone in the panic room with only Cannibal for company. The serial killer hadn’t changed course, he still moved relentlessly forward, burrowing through the room’s layers of safety one by one.
“I can feel you inside there.”
The raspy voice came from directly behind Dan, and only his veil actively brushing against Cannibal kept him from screaming and leaping into the Gap. It didn’t stop his skin from crawling, nor the violent tremors that raced down his spine. Adrenaline trickled in, spiking Dan’s heart rate.
“Won’t you run with the rest?” Cannibal asked as he scratch, scratch, scratched at the walls. “Won’t you die beside the the ones you love?”
Dan breathed in and out. His heart hammered in his chest and his blood rushed through his limbs. A log hurtled through t-space at a significant fraction of c. How much time had passed? Seconds or minutes? Was Abby far enough away?
“Won’t you give me a hunt worth remembering?” the voice drawled in a sibilant whisper.
Dan walked forward, his boots tapping against the tile floor. He came face to face with the nightmare creature, separated by a foot of sheetrock and three inches of super-material. His veil felt every inch of the vile thing, caked in dirt as it was. Dan felt the fear draping over him, wrapping around his heart like a vice.
“Are you worthy prey?!” Cannibal snarled, striking forward. There was a sound like a ringing gong, and the walls shook.
Dan closed his eyes. He stretched out his veil. It layered itself against the wall between Cannibal and Dan. It pooled across the space the vicious Natural occupied, it filled the tunnel he’d created. It aimed at the slithering serial killer, opened the gate to t-space, and released its deadly payload.
Dan vanished as the island shook.