Dragon Over Washington (The Third War Of The Bir Nibaru Gods) (44 page)

Ellis joined Thorpe, who was standing over the remains of the creature that were still bubbling as the acidic substances ate their way through the concrete pavement.

“Who is running now, bitch?” Thorpe snarled and turned towards Ellis. “Turns out he was religious after all,” he said and fainted.

***

“Ouch!”

“Stop being such a baby.”

“It hurts,” Thorpe whined. He was sitting near an ambulance while medics bandaged his injured left hand. It burnt as if acid was eating it from the inside. Thorpe looked away, watching the ambulances and the police cars cordoning off the Metro station and keeping the crowds away. Ellis sat next to him. Thorpe thought she looked fabulous in her combat uniform.

Suddenly the medics left Thorpe and moved away. He looked at them in surprise and then hurriedly got up. The Man was suddenly there, looking at his bandages with cold eyes.

“Agent Thorpe, I assume you weren’t hurt too bad.” It wasn’t a question.

“Ah - no, sir, it’s just some -”

“Good. I want you back at HQ. I want you to expand intelligence gathering and to integrate with the new military operations.”

“New military operations?”

“Your little adventure this evening has proven convincing, but next time see to it that less collateral damage is caused. The national security advisor is going to see the President tomorrow morning and has already given us permission to expand operations. We are now officially at war.”

“We? But what about Winder? What if there were more infiltrations of our Division? It’s unsafe. Winder’s team -”

“I already told you once to use your brain, Agent Thorpe. Can you assure me that any other agency has not been infiltrated? Can you point out another agency that has more experience in this matter than us? Can you point out another agency that can deal with this better than us?” Thorpe lowered his eyes under The Man’s gaze. “Agent Winder has served with distinction for more than ten years. We need to find out how and why he chose to betray the agency.” The Man glanced at Ellis and turned away, starting towards his black car.

“So those bureaucratic idiots finally saw the threat these things pose?” Thorpe asked Ellis. The Man turned back to him even though Thorpe talked softly.

“Threat, Agent Thorpe? They saw the videos from the city’s security cameras. They saw the technological advantages that can be gained in genetics, biology, neurology and other fields. They saw future profits, military and financial. Agent Thorpe, can you imagine what this country can do with spies, assassins or Special Forces possessing the abilities Winder had? Can you imagine what our country can do with one hundred soldiers like Winder became?”

Thorpe watched The Man enter his limousine and drive away. Thorpe then looked up. A strange red light crisscrossing the skies started to fade. Thorpe was sure he had never seen such a light before.

“Interesting that he didn’t mention the thing we saw flying over Owego,” Thorpe said.

“There are several things he didn’t mention at the hearing. Anyway, we didn’t get any good video of that thing in Owego,” Ellis said.

“Yeah. It’s like the Radio Blanket. No device worked near it. Probably some kind of EMP effect interfering with the electron flow. Though guns also stopped working; maybe because of interference with cordite combustion. Cars also stopped working, but I think it’s curious my smartphone still functioned -” He saw how she looked at him and shut up.

“He finally called me ,Agent Thorpe. And all it took was a monster to track me all over Washington D.C. and try to eat me,” Thorpe sighed.

“Speaking about tracking,” Ellis said, “how did you know my private cellular number?”

“Ah. Umm -”

Al Jaghbub, Libya.

The taxi approached Al Jaghbub, its left headlight still dead. The driver was leaning back, a cigarette in his mouth, all the windows opened. He whistled softly as the city’s highest minarets became visible, the view marred by skeletons of some of the still-incomplete buildings of the town. The black and white taxi accelerated slightly though the speedometer always showed only ten mph - stuck there since the eighties.

The driver considered, twirling his long moustache around his finger. He glanced at his cheap plastic watch, letting the old Citroen 2CV swerve widely from lane to lane.

“Not too late. I may still find some merchant who wants to go home, or even a tourist,” the driver murmured happily, the cigarette bobbing up and down. The taxi entered the city and turned into Nasr Street, slowing down as the driver looked at the wreckage of several cars pushed to the side of the street. Then the driver started scanning for possible clients.

However, the rounded archways of the houses were empty and the green-and-blue-painted doors were all closed. The driver frowned. There did not seem to be much chance of finding a passenger.

The taxi passed a gas station and the driver stared at the long line of cars waiting before the naked station building with its two diesel pumps. The driver craned his head outside his car’s window to look back. The cars were all deserted, most with open doors. The gas station seemed to be empty as well. The driver started to chew on his cigarette, his eyes darting from side to side.

The taxi passed an old, huge palm tree growing out of the pavement. The tree was burnt, its few remaining meaty leaves still smoking. The town’s houses were dark and the few remaining lights were poor, flickering things. There was absolutely no one walking on the wide pavements. The driver suddenly smiled. Headlights appeared in front of him. Finally, another car! The driver quickly lost his smile. The oncoming car, a white four-wheel-drive vehicle swerved wildly from side to side. The taxi driver’s eyes were wide as he turned his wheel sharply to the right. The vehicle passed him, probably moving faster than sixty mph through the narrow, winding streets.

“Idiot! May you drive only camels in heat from this day onward!” the driver yelled as he watched the vehicle disappear in his rearview mirror. The taxi slowed and the driver looked anxiously out, searching for any sign of human activity. He had stopped whistling a long time ago.

The driver craned his head up, looking at the top of the lamp posts lining the street. There were birds on them, sitting quietly, not a feather rustling. The driver swallowed. He saw crows, seagulls and other birds he could not recognize, all of them just standing and watching him, turning their heads slowly to watch his taxi pass. The driver blinked and tried to look closer. Were the birds’ eyes fuming? The driver closed his taxi’s windows. It made him feel just a little bit safer.

The driver’s head jerked backwards. A single howl from somewhere behind the taxi tore the evening. The driver’s moustache quivered. He thought it might be a dog’s howl, but he had never heard a dog howl like that. There was hunger in that howl, more hunger than anything the driver had thought possible.

The driver tried to calm his breathing. His taxi had slowed to a crawl and the driver felt his moustache with a trembling hand. He had slept in Tubruq in his brother’s house for the last several days, driving a wealthy businessman around. Apparently bad things had happened in Al Jaghbub during that time. So, even though his brother’s wife didn’t really like him, he decided he would head back to Tubruq. The driver smiled. Yes, he would stay in Tubruq for a few more days.

The driver glanced at his rearview mirror and his mouth dropped open. The road behind him was filled with dogs, all running towards him, their mouths wide open, yet silent. Some of the dogs were mongrels, others were large wolfhounds and Labradors. They were all running for his taxi, fangs showing, legs pumping, eyes fixed on him. The driver started sweating even though the night was cool. It wasn’t natural for dogs to be this silent.

The driver tore his gaze from his rearview mirror, gasped and turned the wheel sharply. A single crow stood on the middle of the road in front of him, looking straight at him, not rustling a feather even as the taxi drove straight to it. The driver cringed, expecting a soft impact as the taxi hit the crow, but there was nothing, the taxi continued advancing steadily. The driver relaxed. He saw the pack of weird dogs receding in his rearview mirror. He was approaching Al Jaghbub’s exit and he suddenly remembered his cigarette, forgotten in the corner of his mouth. He took a deep breath, inhaling the cigarette’s smoke, and started smiling.

Suddenly, he hit the brakes, and the old Citroen skidded on the worn asphalt before coming to a stop. The crow had just climbed onto the taxi’s hood and was now striding across it towards the driver’s compartment, its claws leaving deep, smoking imprints in the taxi’s black and white metal hood. The crow used its opened wings for balance, but the driver only looked at the crow’s eyes, deep pits emitting yellow smoke.

The driver grimaced. He straightened the wheel, put the car in first gear and blasted out of there, but the crow kept advancing, its wings flapping once or twice to help it keep its balance.

Something else grabbed the driver’s attention. He tore his eyes off the crow, opened the window, put his head outside and looked up. One of the two-story buildings seemed to be sporting a strange gargoyle, much taller than a man. Bronze metal talons dug into the beige, brick house, wings were folded on its back and a long neck supported a hideously cruel vulture-like head with a sharp beak. The cigarette fell from the driver’s mouth as the monstrous head moved, proving it was no statue. A baleful, yellow gaze was directed at him and the beak opened.

The cigarette fell into the driver’s lap, but he didn’t notice. He opened his mouth to scream and yanked his head back in. He pushed hard down on the gas pedal and made the old car accelerate as fast as it was able to. A flash of light, too yellow to be lightning, blinded him for a moment. Yet, it was as if a yellow lightning bolt had hit the city a few blocks ahead of him.

The driver shook his head clear and screamed again as something passed over the car, something with long wings, bronze armor and huge curved talons. The car was heading right towards a building. The driver turned the wheel savagely and pressed the brakes. The car swerved, teetered on the edge of its wheels for an instant and then flipped over, falling on its back. Everything was swallowed by a great darkness.

Loud, metallic crunching woke the driver up. He groaned once, laying on the roof of his upside-down cab, his head pounding and his right arm blazing with pain. His eyes refused to focus and he blinked repeatedly, trying to clear them. Something was dripping from his nose, something warm. It touched his forehead and continued down towards his hand. There was a coppery taste in his mouth. He wiped his face with his hand and saw it covered with blood. The driver looked outside and froze. The dogs he had seen earlier were now chewing up the car, chomping through plastic, metal and glass. He saw a dog tear one tire off, bite through its tough rubber till the air escaped with a hiss. The dogs didn’t make a sound. Their eyes vented yellow smoke.

“Psst!”

The driver glanced sideways. A door in one of the houses had opened fractionally and a hand beckoned the driver urgently. The driver breathed in, opened the door of the car, and grunted as he shambled out. He looked behind him once and saw a dog looking straight at him. The dog had opened its jaws wider than anything the driver has ever seen before and a long, black, three-tipped tongue snaked out.

The driver lurched into the house and fell on the floor. The door was slammed behind him and he was grabbed and hoisted up.

“In Allah’s name! We must hurry!” A voice whispered urgently in the driver’s ear.

They ran, the driver and his rescuer. The driver heard the door behind splinter and break as the dogs’ jaws sheared into it, biting through the heavy wooden frame with ease. They ran: going down stairs, moving through a darkened cellar, stumbling over discarded bottles and crates. The driver glanced once to the side and saw rats sitting on their haunches, staring at them as glowing yellow fumes poured from empty eye sockets. The rats swiveled their heads to follow them as they passed. The driver shivered and stopped looking sideways. They ran up some stairs, entering another building and then climbed some more.

Finally, they ran out onto a roof and the driver fell there, holding his right arm, blood soaking through his fingers.

“I thank you! What are those things? What happened to the animals? What happened to the -”

The driver’s rescuer shushed him up with a sharp motion of his hand. He was a tall man, wearing a worn robe and a dirty turban. The man paid the driver no attention, and just kept looking at the skies.

“I came from Tubruq this evening. What happened to the city? Is this some sort of plague? We must -”

The powerful sound of beating wings silenced the driver. He whimpered once and tried to scrabble back as the large gargoyle he had seen earlier now landed on the roof. Its great, feathered wings beat once before they were folded on the creature’s back. The thing flexed great bronze talons and walked across the roof towards them, its long sharp beak closed, its bronze armor reflecting the chaotic red and yellow lights in the skies. Yellow, sulfurous streams jetted from the creature’s eyes, almost suffocating the driver with their toxic smell.

“This is the seventh man I give you!” The man who rescued the driver ran towards the creature and fell down before it, spreading his hands on the roof. “I have paid the price. I did what was required of me. Take him and spare me! I will bring you more if you spare me.” The man’s turban fell from his head, but he didn’t move, just kept groveling at the creature’s clawed feet.

The driver, too shocked to move, watched as the creature moved closer to him. An armored arm lifted him up in the air, sharp talons holding him like mechanical clamps. The driver started thrashing, trying to free himself, but he felt like a powerless child. The creature’s head snaked closer, carried on its long vulture-like neck; demonic, smoldering yellow eyes stared into the driver’s terrified ones.

The creature’s beak started opening. The driver froze. The beak kept opening, gaping wider and wider. The driver began to struggle again when he felt his own mouth being opened by an invisible force. The creature and the driver faced each other for a moment, the driver thrashing, limbs flailing, spittle spraying from his mouth, legs kicking, body convulsing. The driver was feeling the worst pain he had ever felt in his life. A light appeared in his chest, so powerful it shone through it. The light rose up, finally leaving the driver’s mouth, shedding brilliant illumination all around it and bearing a strange image of the driver’s features, black eyes and mouth gaping in astonishment. The dazzling orb of light surged forward towards the creature’s mouth, but a clawed hand caught the orb and held it throbbing on its bronze armored palm. The driver’s eyes on the light were terrified, darting all around it; his mouth, floating inside the ball of light, was screaming silently.

The driver’s body hung limp, like a puppet whose strings have been cut.

“This is the one Sin-Shar-Ishkun wants.” The demonic vulture’s voice was high and powerful, filled with throbbing power and toxic undertones. “You have done well. You will be spared. For now.”

The man bowed down again, his head touching the roof’s old tar coating. The creature regarded the tall man who kept his head low. A long black tongue snaked out and licked the creature’s beak, passing tenderly over its sharp edge.

“The legion needs those who want to survive, to prosper. Continue to provide us with meat. Do well. Immortality awaits thee,” the demon finished with a whispered hiss.

The demonic vulture crouched and leapt into the air, its great wings opening with a thud. The creature held the driver’s limp body in one hand and the glowing ball of light with the driver’s terrified features in the other.

The tall man slowly raised his sweat-drenched face, looking into the torn skies, a fierce smile on his face.

The creature landed in front of a mansion in the north part of the town and entered the large alabaster building. It took the driver’s body down stairs leading to a deep cellar, into a large room beneath the ground. There something waited for the driver, holding up a claw dripping with acidic sulfur.

***

The taxi driver’s body rose up above the mansion, held aloft by a hurricane of yellow force. His hands were thrust to the side, his legs spread wide open, his head lolling down. The new cuneiform-script tattoo that covered his entire chest still smoked. Yellow fumes of sulfur started entering the driver’s body, going through his eyes, nose and mouth, and even through his skin. His body started bubbling and shaking, and then it started to expand. Three pairs of great-feathered wings grew on his back. On his hands and feet grew long curving talons, black and shiny. His head became elongated, growing a strong, wide beak, becoming a huge raptor’s head. The few last remaining white hairs that he had fell out. The driver’s long, well-kept moustache fought fiercely, but finally it dropped off as well, fluttering on its way down. The driver’s limbs lengthened, became thinner, and were covered with a black skin.

The skies above Al Jaghbub boiled, jagged yellow lines crisscrossing the expanse above the town. Thunder rolled across the desert, making the town huddle beneath the fires running above it. A brief image of a place of red winds, rivers of flame and floating black iron rocks appeared, all circling a huge bronze citadel that had been standing stalwart for thousand of years.