[Teal]

Well, if anyone's interested, here's some more...

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Chapter Three

And, as though to prove Drek’s doomsaying, even with the increased patrols, the next night another of the town’s inhabitants was killed. A mud, this time, as horribly mutilated as the medic had been, hung by his arms on a tree on the outskirts of town, his head lolling on a broken neck.
And there, on his temples, were those confusing little burns. Drek could see that Bea had her suspicions about them, but she wouldn’t be drawn, and he didn’t like to push. All he could do was try to keep the peace, and try to keep the townspeople calm.
Which was proving ever harder to do, after the third night and the third death. Three murders in three nights – four, if you counted the elum – and everyone suddenly feared that they’d be next. Mud or slig, it didn’t matter what you were, because you knew he didn’t care who he picked… Drek had tried to be pragmatic – no-one knew he’d even kill again, he said, vainly, maybe it was just a rogue scrab unable to kill anything else, that in its hurry to feed had by some fluke managed to throw his victims into the trees… He managed to keep most of the adults calm, but the youngsters were all jumpy, expecting this unseen, unknown, terrifying creature, this bogeyman, to come get them when they were asleep in bed…
And a lot now flatly refused to go anywhere without an adult with them. Where four days ago they’d been happy to romp around unwatched, and the adults had reasoned they were pretty safe and didn’t worry, the children now refused to even cross the street without an escort – in case it was hiding in the trees somewhere…
Aura and Dren were no different. The little female in particular had suddenly got very clingy, and tended to stick close to Hak, when she could find him.
She was with him that afternoon, perched on his massive shoulder and leaning against him. “I’m scared, Uncle Tank…” she whimpered softly into his ear. “What if he comes t’get us…? Me an’ Dren… how we goin’ t’protect ourselves…?”
Hak raised a hand and patted her, gently. “Aw, c’mon, Aura,” he said, in that deep, brassy rumble. “No one ain’t goin’ ter get you while I’m here.”
“Still scared, though…” she huddled closer. “What if he gets yer?”
Hak rumbled a laugh. “He could try, but that’s as far as he’d get. I’d sit on ‘im.”
That prompted a tired giggle. “Yeah, fat old Tank’d squish ‘im ter a pulp…” she said, nudging snouts.
“Watch who yer callin’ fat, kiddo,” Hak chuckled. “Now, how ‘bout no more o’ that nonsense, huh?”
She drew a breath. “I’ll try,” she said, resolutely, and added, more quietly. “He wouldn’ get me wi’ you here, huh?”
Hak smiled, but didn’t reply, wondering if either of them were right…

Xar was working late, as usual, trying to keep his mind off things. It was one of those stifling hot days, and even the air conditioner the last raid team had staggered back with – he hadn’t liked to ask how they’d got hold of it – was struggling to keep the surgery cool.
So when he went out and asked the duty nurse to make sure they remembered to get some gob swauzes in for the next day and got a blank look, he decided it was finally time to turn in.
Outside was at last getting cool; dusk had painted the landscape in a dull monochrome, and a fine mist was falling, stealing the heat out of the air. He shrugged his jacket off and leaned back against the cool outer wall of the building, closed his aching eyes and let the chill air take some of the heat out of his skin. He felt sticky, uncomfortable, nearly two days worth of grime on his face, and wanted to go home and sleep, but had to wait for the night patrol to get there, to escort him back. He was content to wait – it was far nicer out here than indoors, where it was still stickily uncomfortable.
But… abruptly, something disturbed him. He stood up straight, nerves suddenly alert for action, for some reason… “Someone there?” he asked, anxiously.
No answer.
He felt the eyes, though, burning into him like hot coals. “Please…” he back closer to the doorway. “C’mon, quit playin’ games, if there’s someone there then show yerself…!”
Still nothing.
Come on, Foggy, his sensible side chided. You’re over-reacting – there’s no-one out there, it’s just your imagination playing tricks.
That’s it, that’s all it was. A trick. His mind, playing tricks. That was all… Xar swallowed, thickly, concentrated on trying to get his heartbeat back to normal.
A thin, high, insane little giggle echoed from somewhere in the trees nearby.
Xar almost leaped out of his skin, staggered backward. “Whosat?” he demanded, shrilly, hands flat against the cold wall and looking for the door.
The giggle again, from the other side, this time. “Who…?” it enquired, thinly.
Breath coming in gasps, Xar realised with a sense of horror that he’d somehow missed the doorway, that it was the other way, closer to that… that creature… “Leavemealone,” he whined, faintly, wondering if Esk had had to suffer this torment before it killed him and strung him up… no… No! No, mustn’t think that, he wasn’t going to get you, he wasn’t, the door was here…
The voice giggled, softly, a sharp, nasal sound right next to his ear. “I scare you, slig…?” it asked, in that thin, insane voice, as the head medic gave a sobbing, panicked yelp of fear and leaped away as though stung.
“Who are yer?” he demanded, breath coming in short, panicked gasps, struggling to see the doorway. “Show yerself!”
There was that giggle again, from ahead and to one side. “Would seeing me make you fear me less, slig…?” the voice asked, tauntingly.
He jumped, backing away from the sound, shaking his head. “Leave me alone…” he whined. “Please, fer Odd’s sake, leave me along… I ain’t done nothin’ ter yer…”
“I’m hun-gry,” the voice said, in a singsong manner, right next to his ear, and before he could lurch away something dealt an excruciating blow to the back of his head, pitching him forward with a cry of panic.
Damnit, where was Night Patrol, he wondered, desperately, kicking out and trying to flip himself upright again, and then abruptly remembered his best weapon – his voice. “Help!” Xar howled at the top of his lungs, like the Foghorn he was nicknamed after. “HEEELP!!”
His unseen assailant gave a snarl of fury, as though sensing his prey would give him the slip, and gave him another of those smart clouts around the head; Xar’s wail for help turned into a startled choke of pain, and he staggered, blindly, nearly fell. Senses swimming, he could hear the night patrol approaching at a run at his cry, but sensed it was too late even as he tried in vain to fend off his unseen attacker.
There was the sudden touch of ice at his temples…
…and a blistering, tearing sensation tore into his mind, like savage nails ripping at his consciousness; he gave a tortured scream as his world exploded into black and violet stars.
And then there was nothing.

Damn those guards, he thought, watching from a distance as they yelled for help and carried the insensate head medic away. He hadn’t managed to completely consume that one, there was still something of an essence left in its mind, but no matter. It wouldn’t be telling anyone what happened…
He giggled, softly, and rippled that dark fire over his limbs, the dark fire that made him all but invisible, let him waltz about and feed on who he chose. Perhaps he ought to go for one of those bigger ones, next time – maybe even try for that great mountain of a soldier – their Lifeglow would keep him going for a long time, make him stronger, for when The Time came…
He licked the droplets of blood from his fingertips, and giggled.

The medic gestured. “I don’ know what’s wrong wi’ him,” he said, sadly, watching as the readings tracked steadily across the screen. “He should be awake. There’s no reason fer ‘im ter still be like this, but…” he spread his hands, hopelessly. “He is.”
Bea nodded, tiredly. “I’m sure you’re doing all you can do,” she said, gently, gazing down on Xar’s calm, placid features and watching the slow in-out sigh of his breathing.
The medic hung his head, as though his helplessness was a shame, weighing his shoulders down. “We’re meant t’be good doctors here,” he said, softly. “An’ we don’ even know what’s wrong wi’ ‘im, Boss lady…!”
“It isn’t your fault,” she tried to reassure him. “And I think there’s more at work here than someone with a grudge.”
Drek, who’d been silent until now, opposite her, dragged himself up through the murk of his sorrow. “What d’yer mean, Bea…?”
She shook her head. “I’m not sure myself, Drek…” she replied, softly. “And I don’t want to say anything until I’m sure.”
“Y’can trust me, can’t yer?”
She looked up at him, across Xar’s still form, and held his gaze for a second. Then looked away, again, sadly – it was all the answer he needed. His shoulders slumped; but then, he should have expected it, shouldn’t he? Everyone was a suspect, and anyone could be the one they were looking for – even her. It pained him to imagine it, but even dear old Bea could be the killer, as unimaginable as it sounded – but then, he knew the old mud was much more powerful than she’d ever let on, just by the way the visiting shamans treated her.
But it still hurt, to have the finger of suspicion pointed at you, to know you couldn’t be trusted just in case. “I understand,” he replied, faintly.
“Oh Drek…” she rounded the end of the bed. “Please, don’t be like that, you know you’re the one person I wish I could trust… but…” she spread her paws.
He nodded. “Yeah, I know. Y’can’t trust no-one…”
“Uh, Boss lady…?” the medic spoke up again, weakly. “D’yer know how we c’n wake ‘im up…?”
Bea sighed, softly, and gave her head a tired shake. “Until I know what’s going on, there’s not a lot I can do.”
The medic nodded. “So he’ll jus’… stay like this?”
She met his gaze, could see the sorrow there; it was the second of their brothers this pack would lose. “Can you keep him alive like this?”
A nod. “Pretty sure we can, anyway… y’think he’ll wake up, then?” there was a painful hope in his voice.
She summoned a tired, wan smile up from somewhere. “I think he will, eventually. I’m not sure when – I fear it could even take months – but I have a feeling in my old bones that he’ll be all right, in the end.”
The medic managed a lopsided smile. “Y’think?”
She gave him what she hoped was a reassuring smile. “Yes, I think.”
Yet in her heart, she didn’t think so, not really. Xar would likely remain this way until he died; she could see the tiny burns on his temples, and knew in her heart who the killer was. But finding him was the problem.

Chapter Four

Hak was out on patrol. It was well past midnight, and the stormy sky above made the night even inkier and oppressive than normal, but Hak didn’t mind, not overly much. He was the only one out on patrol alone, these days; most of the patrol teams were pairs or more, but he’d reasoned he was big enough to be pretty much safe, and Drek had reluctantly agreed with him. Both the old slig and Bea had advised caution, though, so Hak had ensured he didn’t stray far into the trees; but then, he guessed he wouldn’t have done so anyway.
The heavy sky spoke of a storm brewing, and Hak could smell the richness of damp earth blowing in on the wind from the east. He guessed they’d have the mother of all thunderstorms late the next afternoon, which was good, in a way – it would keep everyone indoors, in the dry, and out of reach (he hoped) of the whoeveritwas.
He strode onward, scouring the shadows for anything that might be suspect, when he felt eyes on the back of his neck. He paused, straightened, and scented the air, thoughtfully, but couldn’t smell anything.
“Hello…?” he enquired.
There was no answer, but then he’d have been very surprised if there had been. He went on, more cautiously, now, listening intently, trying in vain to see into the shadowed dark and catch a glimpse of what he’d sensed…

He watched, silently, as the massive brute cast about for the scent he’d never find, and silently giggled to himself. While it was almost blind in the velvet dark, he saw things by their Lifeglows – as though they were translucent beings filled with a vibrant purplish light – and the stronger the glow the stronger its owner. The elum he’d first preyed on had been a sullen, dirty purple; the medic, too, had been a dingy mauve, although it had burned a far brighter violet when he’d impaled it on that tree branch before sucking the pathetic life out of it…
But this… this living mountain of a soldier… who somehow knew he was there but couldn’t quite put his finger on where… it glowed a savagely bright purple-white. Such raw power… It was enticing, he had to very nearly restrain himself from chasing after it and attacking it there and then…
He flitted after it in the shadows, hungrily. The power he’d get from this Lifeglow would sustain and strengthen him more than the energy from four of this soldier’s rather pathetic little worker cousins…

There was a thin, insane giggle from somewhere behind him.
Hak gave a start and span almost full circle, as though stung. “Who’s there?” he demanded.
“Who…?” asked the voice; thin, somewhat reedy, but nasal, too – impossible to tell what it was, could have been a slig but could equally have been a mud or something else. A giggle. “I scare you?”
Hak frowned. “Nope. Where are yer?”
The voice spoke again, this time from behind him again. “I don’t scare you? Better fix that…”
Hak kept still, listening as the thin voice tracked round him, weaving closer and then further away, in and out, maddeningly. “So yer the one that’s been killin’ th’residents…”
Another giggle. “Oh so very tasty, they were, too. I’m hungry, you know.”
Hak sensed it was approaching him. “I guessed. Y’know, we could help yer find food, if yer that desperate…”
“Oh, but it’s not food,” it demurred, weaving around again, but inching closer. “It’s something from the spirit that I take…” and another giggle, thin and maddening. “You would satisfy my hunger for some time, my tall friend.”
“I’m sure,” Hak tensed. “But yer not getting’ th’chance t’find out.”
As he’d suspected there would be, there was a touch of ice at his shoulders – his nerves were already taut, so that lightest of touches was like touching a hair trigger. He exploded into movement, and in one smooth, powerful movement, backhanded his unseen assailant cleanly away.
There was a low, annoyed hiss from the other side of the square. "Ooh, I'll get yer next time, fatty..." the voice promised, in a snarl so low and hateful it sent a chill up Hak’s spine, and next instant he caught the fleetingest glimpse of a shadowwy figure darting away, gone in seconds, too fast to see its species.
He stared in the direction it’d gone, then lifted his muzzle skyward and gave the low, thunderous boom Patrol had agreed on as a panic call.
Pru and one of her Razors were there in half a minute. “Tank! Wassup?” she demanded, urgently.
He gave her a concerned look. “I jus’ got attacked.”
Her eyes widened. “But yer-”
“Alive? Yeah, I gave it a smack round the chops an’ it ran off,” he was already headed over in the direction he’d seen it flee, swinging his massive head back and forth, questing for the scent he knew should be there and unable to smell anything but the sun-scorched earth.
“Yer hit it?” Pru sounded impressed.
“Yeah,” he turned, stared at her. “It ran off this way, an’ I can’t smell nothin’.”
“Yer sure?” Pru was casting about as well now, head low. “Mebbe it was further over…”
“Naw, it was here, I tell yer…” he insisted. “It ran down between th’buildings here.”
The Razor lifted his head. “Can’t smell nothin’, Boss lady,” he said; he looked like a younger version of Hak, smaller and with a thinner voice, but with the same almost ponderous air and very deliberate manner. “Mebbe we best split up, cover more ground that way.”
She shook her head. “Don’t yer even think it, Sker’,” she said, sternly. “He won’t have gone far, I’m guessin’ – whatchoo reckon, Tank?”
“I’m reckonin’ the same thing, lady,” Hak was already halfway down the narrow alleyway, baffled at the lack of scent. He knew it had been here, dammit…
Pru padded after him. “I don’ get it. Surely there should be some scent?”
Hak nodded, tiredly. “Naw, I don’ get it neither. I reckon Bea’s right, there’s somethin’ weird goin’ on-”
His words suddenly cut short at the hideous, blood-curdling scream from behind. They both span as one, to see Sker crumple to a silent heap on the grass, and a shadowed figure flit away into the night. A few sparkles of black fire danced through the grass and faded away like dying fireflies.
“Right under our Odd-damned noses…” Hak croaked, looking stunned.
Pru just looked shellshocked.
And, as if to rub salt into the still raw wound of losing a pack-mate, there came that thin, insane giggle skittering over the night air, sharp as shards of glass from a shattered glass.

He watched from the shadows again, watched as the two large Patrol Guards gathered up the fallen form of their late comrade, and smiled, silently. His shoulder ached from where the stupid brute had struck him, but already that was fading, as the life he’d stolen strengthened and nourished his twisted mind.
He nursed his shoulder with one hand, and hissed softly through his teeth, annoyed that he hadn’t managed to steal the larger one’s essence, but no matter, he’d get it in the end, by Odd, no question about that… He licked his fingertips, more by habit now than anything, and silentlylaughed into the darkness. He’d got that damned noisy stupid little medic, just as he’d sworn to himself that he would, and he’d get this one too, just see if he didn’t…

Drek arrived at the council building early next day; Hak met him at the main doorway, looking harried.
“Y’hear what happened?” he asked, solemnly.
“I heard,” Drek replied, with a nod. “I’m sorry, Hak…”
He nodded, following the smaller slig inside the building. “Pru’s getting’ over it, I think, but she’ll be off Patrol fer a night or two.”
Drek pushed the door of the main chamber open, to find them already in session, flinging ideas around and arguing with each other. “Aw, frack, can’t they do anythin’ right wi’out me here?” he groaned, walking tiredly round the massive table and to his seat, listening to the other councillors verbally sparring.
Ben was standing up against the table, leaning forward across it and nearly touching snouts with Arrik, who looked similarly infuriated. “Just cause you can’t find him, there’s no need to take it out on me!”
Arrik was all but standing on the table. “Yeah, well I don’ see yer findin’ ‘im, neither!” he barked.
“Not through want of trying!”
“Excuse me,” Drek tried, vainly. “Can we have a little decorum, here?”
“How about that crossbreed thing?” Ben and Arrik carried their argument on regardless. “I notice he vanished rather quickly a while ago!”
Arrik gave him a condescending look. “Don’ be such a twat, we’d have smelt him,” he spat.
Drek cleared his throat. “Aw, fer Odd’s sake yer lot, can’t we get on wi’ what we’re here for…?”
“What did you call me?” Ben ignored him.
“A twat,” Arrik replied. “’Cause that’s what yer are.”
“Why you…” Ben had his hands balled into fists.
Hak glanced down at his Alpha – Drek had his head resting in his hands, having given up trying to make himself heard, and by now most of the other councillors had joined the verbal melee – and so decided to lend a hand. Literally. He leaned forward over Drek’s shoulder and crashed a massive fist into the stone tabletop.
Everything on the table suddenly jumped; argument forgotten, a circle of wide-eyed faces swung to face him. Hak straightened up and gave a low rumble of approval. “I think,” he said. “That th’boss tol’ yer ter shut up.”
Drek managed a smile. “Thanks, Hak,” he said, mildly. “Now, gents… if we can discuss this like councillors an’ not fight like slogs we might get a lot more done, agreed?”
“Uh…” for once, Ben was the first to back down. “Yeah, I guess we just, uh… over-reacted, a little.”
Arrik nodded, already sagging back into his chair. “That’s an understatement if ever I heard one,” he said, faintly. “Sorry, Drek.”
Drek nodded, tiredly. “Yeah yeah, let’s jus’ all get on, shall we…?”

Hak’s storm showed up right on time, just as council was calling it a day. There was an earsplitting boom and lightning stabbed down, shattering one lonely tree into flaming fragments, but the bits didn’t burn for long. The first heavy drops of rain plopped down from the laden sky barely seconds later, sending the last couple of the town’s inhabitants still outside scurrying for cover, and then it was as though a dam had burst somewhere.
Hak lounged against the doorframe of the council building, arms folded, the post sagging slightly with his weight, and watched the rain fall in heavy curtains outside. “One thing’s fer sure,” he rumbled, like a stray thundercloud, hearing Drek mooch up behind. “Our li’l Pain-in-the-Ass ain’t goin’ t’be goin’ out in this tonight.”
Drek leaned back against the other side of the doorframe, and lit a cigarette.
Things must be worrying him something chronic, Hak mused. I ain’t seen him smoke in months.
“Hope yer right,” Drek said, at length, exhaling a cloud of blue and watching the wind tear it to ribbons.
The silence was uncomfortable. “Reckon we’ll catch ‘im soon?” Hak tried, vainly.
Drek shrugged, and heaved an exhausted sigh. “Bea reckons we’re getting’ close,” he said, softly. “But she ain’t tellin’ no-one anythin’.”
“Yer worried it’s her?”
“Kind of, I guess. I don’ see how it can be, really, but that ain’t helpin’ my heart.”
Wisely, Hak decided to change the subject. “Glad it’s rainin’.”
“Why?”
“Well, who’s goin’ t’want t’be out in this lot?” he gestured with one massive hand. “It’d nearly drive yer into the ground, I bet.”
Drek nodded, managed a watery smile and flicked ash into the rain. “An’ it’ll wash ev’ryone’s scents away,” he mused. “Give us somethin’ of a clean sheet t’work wi’. Just best make sure we keep ev’ryone indoors until th’search teams have been out.”
Hak grimaced. “Y’do realise how early we’d have ter get up t’do that, don’tcher, Boss?”
Drek chuckled, dryly. “I’m sure you’ll cope.”
Hak just rumbled inarticulately with disgust.

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