Ark Chapter One

Allegedly fast paced urban fantasy.

My toes clenched in my boots. I missed my steelies; they were downstairs in Murdoch’s car. Though perfectly safe beneath the more supple leather my toenails itched for the missing protection. It wasn’t the climb up the outside of the warehouse that had left me breathless, it wasn’t the corpse that stared unblinkingly through me, it was the knowledge that I still pulsed with the magic that had altered my shape from rodent to human. If it weren’t so dead then that corpse would have seen me.

That squished my lungs like an obese fist around a chocolate bar.

I tried to slow my breathing. I couldn’t afford to pass out and I needed to clear the fermented decay from my taste buds. Lying still forced my pulse rate to drop a little with each second until I was no longer at risk of seizure. Magic rode too close to the surface, flickering like moths just beneath my skin. My eyeballs tingled sharply with it. I closed them against the magic. Watched the road map of tiny veins traversing my eyelids. Magically enhanced I could see the blood pumping through them. Very slowly the speed of that flow stilled. In truth my eyes merely reverted to their regular green and I could no longer see the detail that held me entranced. They would no longer give me away as other if I were to confront Murdoch waiting at the front door and ask him for my boots.

The thought of Murdoch tipped my heart rate back up to the three hundred mark forcing a shuddering gasp from my lips. My stomach revolted at the wash of death I’d inhaled. Snapping my eyes open I lay still, eye to lidless eye, and exhaled my breath until my lungs flat packed. It wasn’t as though the corpse could hurt me. Not packaged in its shiny cage with bars thicker than my thighs.

Though grotesque it was uniquely compelling. As the vampire killer’s lock pick I was accustomed to bodies. Vampires had a habit of collecting them. This one was different. Not least for the cage that resembled a magician’s stage set. And the smell wasn’t so foul, just beneath the sour rancidity of rotting flesh was something peculiarly sweet. I lay there trying to filter through the layers to sample it more closely.

Get in and get out. That was all I needed to do. Get in, check, now get out.

I shook my head to clear it and very slowly put my palms to floor, shakily pushing up to my knees. The floor was so dusty I left holes in the thick grey felt when I rose. I clapped my palms together twice. The sound was a shockwave snapping the silence. The movement sent a shower of woolly grey dust floating up into the spikes of wintry sunbeams.

My lip curled as I watched a dust bunny flutter and settle onto one clean white canine of the corpse’s lipless smile. It seemed so wrong, so blatantly discourteous that my hand twitched to nudge it away. No need. A blunt ended tongue slipped forward, curled around it, and drew it back between its dry teeth.

Shrieking, I tumbled backwards onto my arse. Heart pounding like an aggravated neighbour. The one blue eye I could see rolled up at me, a hand lifted, weak, pleading.

 “Help.” It sounded more like ‘helk’ through the lipless maw but I translated.

Closing my eyes I looked down. Then I actually had to open them again to see. I really, really didn’t want to. I sat for a moment watching the veins behind my lids; this wasn’t helping to calm the magic. Squeezing my lids more tightly shut at first I winched one open just a crack.

The flesh from the lower half of its jaw was gone. Only tassels of skin hung in shreds below the nose and cheeks. I could actually see the chords of sinew linking the jaw to the skull. There was little or no blood to be seen. Neither on the floor of the cage nor on the body. The left eye, the only one visible, was an unadorned socket and ball, a gash down the edge of the cheekbone travelled to the ruined flesh of the jaw showing the trail of further devastation. The hand that reached through the bars was missing two fingernails. It was both pitiful and revolting.

“Hamster.” It chortled. At least it resembled some kind of wet humorous sound.

Cursing I shoved back from the cage shaking my head in desperate denial. I had been seen. Again that odd sweet scent floated above the latrine/abattoir stench and I blinked trying to focus my shattered concentration. Without eyelids or lips it was impossible to gauge what expression the non-corpse was making.

“You mention the hamster again and I swear you’ll wish you were back in this cage.” I leaned in and made some serious eye contact, ignoring the stomach clenching sight.

The non-corpse shrank back from me as much as it could. An inch at most. It jerked at the sound of Murdoch hammering on the front door. That was the reason I was bullying the half dead guy. Nobody knew about the hamster thing, especially not Murdoch.

Eyeing the dirty blonde hair sparsely covering its scalp I felt like the worst kind of bully. Who the hell picks on dead people? Well, nearly dead people.

I cursed again, heavily and graphically, rubbing my third eye with the heel of my hand. It had seen me.

I had three options. Leave it there and hope that it didn’t ask after the hamster woman when Murdoch entered. I could kill it now and mention the corpse as part of the inventory of the building. Or I could take it to hospital and hope for the best. Number two was the most sensible but I had no weapon hand in the empty warehouse. Without a weapon I’d have to use my hands, if I used my hands I’d have to open the cage.

Sighing I looked around for some means to open the inhumanly small cage. The corpse, or non-corpse, must have been fairly dainty before the lid was slammed down on it. I wasn’t sure that I could fit into those dimensions.

Hanging from a nail in the wall was a key. Somebody had wanted that key to be seen. It hung at thigh level and, unless the regular occupants were dwarves, that was not a handy height for storage.

Something twisted inside of me. The idea of lying in that cage watching that key for who knew how long was sickening; the fact that someone finally arrived and used that key only to kill you was beyond torture. I didn’t doubt that I could kill someone but to do so merely for the sake of keeping my secret? It may have been what Murdoch would do in my place but Murdoch wasn’t always the best yardstick for humanity.

I twisted the key in the lock and turned it with a meaty snick. Grabbing the guy under the arm I yanked. My hand spanned his bicep. There was no meat to him. Beneath my fingers his body trembled like it was electrified.

“Look you have to get up now.” I hissed as Murdoch launched another attack on the door. “We’ll get you to the hospital and get you some food but you have to move.”

If Murdoch could kick the door down then I wouldn’t have been here in the first place. It didn’t mean that he wouldn’t try. I’d been too long already and, apart from the lack of screaming, he had no idea whether I was all right or not. Murdoch wasn’t likely to spend too much time worrying about my welfare but if I were unable to work, due to death or some such malingering, he’d have to find a new doorman.

“No hospital.”

I stared at the ruined face and simply blinked. The guy looked like a walking Halloween decoration. Maybe he was in shock.

“Your funeral.” I snapped at him and tugged his arm.

This time he moved. Slowly, very slowly, unlocking each joint as he stretched and rolled towards me. Yep, must have been in there a long time.

The other half of his face was untouched. Smooth, baby soft skin, the colour of rice pudding draped across the rest of his skull. It almost made his wounds appear worse. He was young, barely in his twenties. His undamaged eye gazed unblinkingly at me, showing me almost as much white at the lidless one. Wow, I’d really scared him. I was trapped between guilt and pride.

“Remember, say nothing.” I growled at him.

Though he was obviously weak he hadn’t needed carrying across the floor or down the stairs. I didn’t understand how he could be so injured and still be upright. We stood at the front door. I fumbled the lock with my left hand, holding the non-corpse against my right side, my elbow in his ribs keeping him propped against the wall. There was more weight to him than appeared. Praying that he would not give me away to Murdoch I tapped the edge of my shades. Reassured that they were in place I plastered a smile onto my face and twisted the lock.

“Enter oh my lord and master.” Having feigned my dignified butler look I screwed up my face at the smell that hit me. “Urgh! What are you Murdoch, a dog s**t magnet? You stink.”

I looked straight into Murdoch’s stake. He held in his hand a sharpened wooden stake level with my nose. I watched it so closely my eyes crossed.

“Get in, get out that’s all you had to do.” Murdoch spoke through gritted teeth. “Where exactly was the subtext in that?”

His eyes darted to the corpse. The stake in his hand twisted fractionally in his direction. “What the f**k are you?”

I waited a beat for that question to end as I expected. With ‘looking at’ or ‘doing’ but it didn’t and my head turned slowly to look at the man next to me. What are you is a very, very different question to what are you looking at. Now was not the best time for me to be thinking that. Ten minutes ago might have been more prudent.

That squared off tongue roamed across those overexposed teeth again and I understood that he’d bitten through it at some point. At least I really hoped that it was he that had done the biting.

Taking a deep breath I swivelled round so that I was fully between Murdoch and the corpse. Man, he was a man, I couldn’t keep calling him a corpse just he because he looked and smelled like one. I wrapped my free hand around the stake so that Murdoch was clear about my position.

“He was locked in a cage Murdoch. Look at him. They locked him in a cage and fed him to the vamp.” My throat choked on my own anger. It itched to have a stranger stand at my back but I gritted my teeth against the prickling unease. There was no point in not killing him if I simply handed him to Murdoch. Murdoch was a stake first and then ask questions kind of guy.

Murdoch is the man the police call in when things get scary. The absence of any official back up today meant we were doing something that they wouldn’t wholly condone. It gave me a little more leverage than usual in this job. I had no illusions that Murdoch wouldn’t help this guy to clear up his corpse/non-corpse status.

Murdoch didn’t take his eyes off the man behind me. Slowly he held up his left hand to show me the ring he wore, like we were nervous dogs to be placated. I knew the ring well, it was a thick silver disk; neither pattern nor detail relieved its bulk. He reached past me until I couldn’t see his fingers anymore. I heard a soft whimper, a hiss, and then the scent of cooking meat drifted to my nose. I swallowed hard. Silver burned weres. That disk was acting like a cigarette lighter on whatever skin Murdoch had touched.

I’d put my back to a werewolf. My body turned so very cold that my blood solidified in my veins. I licked my lips and made a study of the fan of crinkles at the corners of Murdoch’s eyes. He, in turn, didn’t take his eyes of the werewolf zombie behind me.

I watched Murdoch, studying him for some clue, some hint, at what to do. Very slowly I uncurled my fingers from around his stake. All the while I could feel the heat of the creature I had rescued. We were so close that I could feel his pulse against my spine. Or perhaps mine was working hard enough for the two of us.

The sweet scent that hung over the werewolf wafted thickly across my nose. The tiny hairs on the back of my neck stood to attention and made me want to shiver. I didn’t but I really wanted to.

The corpse inched closer still. It swallowed hard. Murdoch’s eyes twitched. Something cold and slick ran up the back of my neck, ending behind my ear. It had licked me. So stunned was I that I wasn’t ready when it lifted me off my feet and thrust me at Murdoch. His grip was gentle but the force was incomparable.

We tangled together, sending us both to the ground. I’d so expected any blow to be deadly that I was too surprised to move when it wasn’t. Murdoch shoved me aside and thrust out his stake. The thing moved so fast that my eyes watered trying to keep up with it. Murdoch had made it limp but if he’d slowed it any then it didn’t show.

Author's Note

It's the one that needs the biggest hook. Does that work?