Erasure and Affirmation (Hypernaturals 11)

Canisters and Suits

I kicked over the chair, Sandy and all, and with one foot firmly squared on the bottom of it I sent it scooting across the floor to the door.

"Vera! Make sure she does not get away!" I yelled. I pivoted to look at the sounds coming up the halls.

Vera grabbed a leg of the chair and dragged the chair / Sandy combination the test of the way to the door scraping across the gleaming floor. The doors did not snap out of the way. Vera cussed and went over and tried to push them open. No luck. She cussed again, more loudly.

"Front doors are locked! Son of a bitch!" Vera yelled, stepped back, and then shot the hell out of the suddenly recalcitrant doors at close range. In a construction oversight, it turned out the glass doors are not bulletproof and fell in enormous jagged chunks to the white floor. Once Vera had a big enough hole, she dragged Sandy by her hair out the new opening (and over the chunks of glass), the chair still attached.

Most of the chair is attached: It is not standing up well to being kicked and dragged with a bound occupant. Why I was worried about Sandy getting away. It would not take much now to break free. In a struggle between Sandy and Vera, I know Vera would take her down hard even without the gun. She may not be a Vampire, but she is trained by them, and she is pissed off at Sandy.

They always warn you about the men in white coats coming after you. This is the men in white environmental gear. To hide their scent and to protect them from whatever the gas is they dropped from the ceiling. It is heavier than air it appears, from a very quick look. A rolling fog bank of gas headed my way.

I do not want them headed out the front door after Vera and her luggage, so I went up the side of the stairs. Hand over hand.

The suited men came into the lobby, and they have dart rifles. Four of them. Even in their suits, now that they are here, I know it is the same four.

They opened 'fire' in my direction if 'fire' is the right term for dart guns.

I considered my situation. They are Sirens. They know what I am. They know I can do Vampire things. My speed and power are nullified by their numbers and weapons. If I still had my gun, this would be over fast. I don't, and now my other advantages are gone too. No way to surprise someone that knows what you can do.

I went into hyper-time as I clambered up the side of the stairs.

Four guys. All trying to shoot me. Even at my particular Vampire speed, I can't break the laws of physics, so I have to watch where they are aiming and not be there when they fire. Times four.

I saw a Dart float up towards me and dodged it. Three more headed to the place that the first dart was trying to corral me to, so I headed the other way.

I have two more weapons. My trusty throwing knives Jessica gave me.

I planned it carefully, and using my upper body strength to launch me upward, I inverted in the air next to the stair railing. It's good to be twice as strong (give or take) as Hafthor Björnsson at moments like this. Even my denser Vampire body is relatively lightweight when compared to my polymer muscle power.

Now I faced them mid-air while feeling in hyper-time like I am floating upward, feet toward the ceiling. I reached back through the jellied air and pulled out my knives. With wrist flicks I sent them downward, and into two of the white-suited figures. I blessed Jessica, Helen, Morgan, and even Denise for the time I have spent over the year's training to defend myself. This moment is the exact moment and reason for all that time, all that sweat, eating all that dirt, and most importantly right now, getting those two blades as a gift from Jessica.

The two men I speared from upside-down in the air cussed, I think. Judging by their faces through the masks, and general gestures of anguish. Also, a good clue is the way the dart guns dropped as they grabbed at the handles sticking out of their suits.