Scion of Atlantis Ch. 06

The Harvesters weren't fools, and didn't come charging right in. Their footsteps came slowly down the hallways to just outside the bedroom. I peeked over the dresser, in time to hear a sharp click and see a boxy, dark object come arcing into the room. "[STOP]!" I screamed, rising on instinct to gesture at it with an open palm. The object seemed to bounce back into the hall as if it had deflected off an invisible surface. I heard a surprised shout, when suddenly there was a flash of bright white light, so powerful that even from around a corner out of the direct line of sight it left a purple-green blur across my vision, and a boom loud enough to shake the entire building.

Trying to blink away the flash, I saw Rosalie suddenly leap through the doorway. Or at least, what looked like Rosalie- it was difficult to tell through the afterimage in my eyes, but it looked to me that her limbs were longer, darker, thicker. I heard her shout, a wordless howl of anger, followed by a dull thud, and a man's scream in turn.

I dashed around the dresser as fast as I could, hands balled into fists, prepared to do something, anything to help her. Another person had put themselves in danger for my benefit, and I couldn't just sit around and wait to see what happened to her. There was a brief mechanical chugging sound, and another roar of defiance, deeper and more unsettling. Before I could round the corner and see what was going on in the hall, though, Rude fell into my view, stumbling back and only staying upright by virtue of grasping the doorjamb, injector gun ready in his other hand. He turned his head to see me, but I was already there, and my fist connected with his jaw with a crunch, the impact sending a bolt of pain up through my arm.

I whipped around the corner, bodychecking the taller man out of my way, just in time to see Elena stabbing her injector into Rosalie's arm. Rosalie was down on the floor, while one of the SWAT troopers knelt on her back, and a second stepped on her one outstretched arm with his gun at rest. And that arm... Rosalie's arm from the elbow down was thick, and dark with hair, her hand a massive taloned paw, her claws flexing desperately at the floor. A third trooper lay at my feet, with his helmet ripped off, and the wall was dark with a spray of what could only be blood.

The standing trooper saw me, and without missing a beat, raised his gun. There was another couple of those heavy metallic chugs, and a flash in the darkness. It was like a pair of fists impacted me, first in the soft part of my belly, knocking the wind out of me, and again against my ribs. I could feel something crack inside me, and the force of the blows sent me reeling. It was only because of Rude I managed to keep my feet.

A powerful arm wrapped around my neck, taking me in a chokehold, and I felt something sharp stab me in the side, followed by a cold stinging pressure. I was held like that, with the trooper's gun trained on me, my body aching, for a handful of gasping, laboured breaths. I could feel my pulse beginning to slow, my vision began to go fuzzy at the edges, and my head swam with dizziness.

The last thing I was aware of was a cold voice, intimately close to my ear, saying "Goodnight, Mr. Campbell."