Chapter 32: For the Children

Friday, March 31st, 11:32 PM

Pacific Garden Mall Ruins

Santa Cruz, California

Tracking the humans turned out to be easy.

Most things smelled like ash, or were too subtle to be noteworthy—except the humans, and as they continued, seven unique scents got stronger.

Three reeked of primal fear, four carried odors of aggression and mating, and all stank of urine with a hint of feces.

When the humans came into view, Nino stopped, and the others also halted.

Nino locked eyes with the dogs. [Wait for human shouting, and listen for their big feet. Be careful. Use the cute eyes if you must.]

[We will,] they replied in unison, blinking slowly at her.

Nino returned the gesture.

They’re so friendly, it’s disgusting.

Nino stared at the Labs for a moment. She felt a pang of worry despite herself.

Stay safe, dogs.

Looking at her mate, Nino said, [Hanzo, let’s go.]

She took off again, and Hanzo matched her pace.

[If we sound like young humans, these dumb adults will chase.] Hanzo pointed out.

I like him.

[Yes,] Nino agreed, [we go past them, and then distract. No more speaking until it’s time.]

As expected, Hanzo was silent.

The cats ducked behind the burned ruins of houses and easily outpaced the slow group of humans.

[Help!] Nino cried, doing her best to sound pitiful.

[Is someone there?] Hanzo added. His imitation was almost too good.

“Oh, shi-it!” The man’s high voice sounded happy.

“Little buns for the daycare!” A woman said brightly.

“Shut up and stay with the breeders. Herb and Margaret, with me.” Another man muttered.

“Run! Don’t let them catch—AIEEH!”

“They’re bad people—AAAH!”

Two children yelled warnings. There were a pair of loud smacking sounds, followed by screams of pain.

The woman spoke nicely, “Katie and Elizabeth, no food or water until we get to Scotts Valley. Valerie, you wanna be a stupid little bitch, too?” Her tone made Nino’s fur stand on end.

All three children cried.

Nino heard three humans approaching. She shared a glance with Hanzo.

[I’m over here! Help!] Nino shouted piteously as she and Hanzo sneaked forward to hide behind the next ruined house in the direction the humans were traveling.

“Don’t worry, kids. We’re coming!” The high-voiced man’s tone felt wrong to Nino’s ears.

That one is false. Dangerous.

She laid her ears back, and Hanzo did the same.

He knows. Good.

[Where are you? We can’t see you!] Hanzo cried as they moved to hide behind a larger building.

There was a street up ahead, and Nino knew they’d probably be seen if they continued forward, so she slipped underneath the wreckage, spooking a couple of rodents away.

The impulse to hunt was strong, but Nino resisted. Hanzo’s haunches tightened and he looked like he was about to give chase, so Nino smacked him with no claws.

He bared his teeth and hissed at Nino, but she stared him down and Hanzo seemed to realize his mistake.

Loud footsteps approached, then moved past their location while the humans whispered to one another.

“I heard a fuckin’ cat,” one snickered.

“Probably hiding.” Another started lifting at the large wood-piece that hid Nino and Hanzo.

Nino tensed up to run.

“Who cares about a damned cat?”

There was a sound of skin smacking skin.

“The fuck was that for?” a woman’s voice growled softly.

The wood clattered back to rest above, sheltering the cats.

A man’s voice whispered, “Focus. Find the kids—cats don’t matter.”

“Fine.” The woman sounded angry.

The smell of these humans was awful, especially from close-up. They reeked of unwashed skin, filthy mating, and aggression.

Nino’s nose twitched in disgust.

Humans think they’re stealthy.

That was hilarious. But vicious humans were still terrifying.

The sound of canines growling came just before the woman with the children screamed.

Good dogs.

“Shit. It’s a setup!” one of the men cried.

Human feet pounded away, and Nino locked eyes with Hanzo.

Now, or the dogs will die.

Nino shot out from beneath their hiding place, and she heard Hanzo close behind her.

She gained ground at a rapid pace.

Humans move slowly.

Nino made the left turn to aim toward them, and she had almost reached their massive prey.

Instinct took over. Nino’s thoughts turned to ways she might bring down her quarry.

Neck—too big to bite. No.

Legs—bare near the feet. Stop them from moving. Yes.

Her eyes landed on the smallest of the three.

Weakest first.

Nino caught up with the female human. She reached out her right paw as she passed and scratched as hard as she could, hoping the pain might slow her victim.

To her surprise, Nino’s claws sank deeper through the human’s ankle-flesh than she’d anticipated. Her prey gave a guttural scream and toppled to the ground. Nino heard a bone snap as she lunged at the smaller man while Hanzo attacked the big man’s face as he turned to look.

Brave, Hanzo. Maybe foolish.

The large man screamed, dropping his danger-stick to protect his face, but Hanzo held on with his front feet and bit the human’s nose, raking his hind claws through soft neck-flesh.

Hanzo kicked powerfully and slipped through the human’s grasp when the hands snatched at him. The high-voiced man cried out in surprise, bringing his short danger-stick up toward Hanzo.

Nino leaped, caught the man’s arm, and bit deep into fingers. The bones were thick and stronger than she was used to, but her sharp teeth sank in. She felt the human’s arm rising, and released it, turning as quickly as she could to meet the other hand that streaked toward her.

It was too late.

A harsh bludgeoning sensation rocked Nino as the fist impacted her skull, knocking her away while the human’s danger-stick fell to the ground. But she remained conscious, furious at having been harmed.

Her head hurt, but Nino turned and pounced again while the man screamed at his injured hand. Following Hanzo’s example, she aimed for his face and neck. Two quick rakes with her hind claws tore the neck open, and this time she leaped away before dangerous hands could strike her.

The female human near the children stopped screaming, and Nino heard many small human feet retreating along with the dogs.

Good. The dogs made it.

There was a terrible, thunderous noise. Nino was struck numb as her entire back-half fell to the ground and stopped responding. She knew she’d been injured, and her throat uttered a pitiful wail.

I don’t want to die.

Hanzo gave a savage feline war-cry, and scrambled toward the female human Nino had taken down first.

Yes, kill the bad she-human.

Another horrific bang made Hanzo’s angry voice fall silent.

No!

Rotten, wicked human. But her leg is broken. She can’t hunt.

“Fucking cats! Fuck!” the woman screamed, reeking of fear and fury.

A third loud noise made Nino’s consciousness wink out.

---

“They’re not very organized, but there’s a fuck-ton of hostiles down there,” Joe said, looking through his spotter’s scope from beside the wreckage of the Casablanca Inn. “I count at least eighty.”

Beside him, Mike watched the traitors through his rifle’s scope. Rihelah and Michael stood back with rifles and sidearms of their own to guard against attacks from behind.

“The Dungeon wasn’t lying. I’ve counted more than a hundred targets.” Mike sighed.

“Looks like we’re gonna need her help after all,” Joe admitted.

Mike glanced at Joe and shrugged. “Whatever it takes.”

“Whatever it takes.” Joe echoed him.

They waited in silence for the Dungeon to make her move.

---

<Hanzo has been slain. Respawn in 1 hour.>

NO! Those bastards! Hanzo was just a kitty! He—

<Nino has been slain. Respawn in 1 hour.>

[NOT MY NINO! I’ll erase every one of those kidnapping, murdering pricks! They better not hurt my girls!]

Siobhán said nothing, but her eyes were sad and she hugged Nita against her chest.

My residents were upset that my pets had to face danger, but they understood and agreed without argument that those children had to be saved.

Having lost Nino and Hanzo temporarily, the human in me balked at the idea of sending my handsome gull minions as a distraction, for fear they might be harmed or killed.

But instinct won that argument. No matter how I looked at it, minions possessed no will of their own, save for the desire to protect and serve my Dungeon. They were expendable tools that got a fresh, clean start at life each time they were slain.

If only my residents couldn’t remember their trauma…

Since magic was real, I hoped maybe there was some way to help ease or heal that kind of thing.

I can’t waste time pondering such things right now.

There were a lot of wicked people at the Beach Boardwalk who had to be culled before they murdered any more innocents who couldn’t revive.

Two of my Sentinel gulls soared high above the haphazard crowd of armed humans at the Boardwalk while I pondered the best way to attack.

Youthful voices swore quietly near one of my minion exits, on the sand beneath a deck that hadn’t burned, beside the ruins of the Pirate Ship ride.

My curiosity earned me the dubious sight of a couple getting frisky on a blanket—at the exact moment the man was lining himself up to enter the woman.

With a sigh, I scanned the rest of the area, passing my perception around between the exits I’d made to get a better grasp of the situation.

Most of the humans were likely inside Coconut Grove, if the sound of a cheering crowd and an energetic speaker were any indication.

The voice was deep and authoritative, with a slight accent.

“…at’s why we have to act now while we have the chance. We have been chosen by fate. This is our time. A time of reckoning. A time of change. It is our duty to eliminate all who oppose a better future. The One World Order has granted us this incredible opportunity. An opportunity to stand against oppression—against tyranny—against the great evils that were the superpowers of this world. Their tyranny is over! Together with our brothers and sisters across the world, we are crushing those evils beneath our boots, and we…”

And I didn’t care to hear any more of that man’s words.

The whole situation made me see red.

Chosen by fate, my ass. They’re just a bunch of terrorists who abduct kids and murder innocent people.

Near the shore on the Boardwalk side of the charred Santa Cruz Wharf stood a line of eight steel barrels with various metal grates above the fires that burned inside them. A young man with metal tongs checked and adjusted the numerous fish they were cooking.

Six people were fishing from the wharf near the shore, while one young woman carried a bucket between those catching the fish and the one doing the cooking.

This group was far from the main area, and most were unarmed. My instinct suggested this was the place to strike first, and I listened.

First, a distraction.

My Sentinel gulls dove toward the flaming barrels. Each snatched a sizzling fish in their beaks right in front of the cook before dropping them in the ocean, eliciting cries of outrage from the humans below.

The cook dashed into the water to retrieve the pilfered fish.

During the commotion, thirty Devilflies I’d sent across the bay divided into teams that targeted the humans and set about wrapping them up.

Eight voices cried out in surprise, some flailing to swat at my Devilflies while they looked around in confusion. The cook toppled forward into the surf after his arms were tied up, and he struggled to right himself. A Devilfly dipped to bite the back of his neck.

The shouting turned to anger, frustration, and then horror as most of the restrained and bewildered humans bled from lacerated hands and arms. Cries became screams when they were bitten on their faces, necks, and ears.

People who’d been eating further up the beach bellowed out an alarm, and a group of three rushed toward the wharf. I had my thirty Devilflies intercept, subdue, and envenomate them.

Those minions ascended to hang alongside the roof as they awaited my next command.

After a few seconds, the screams from the trio who’d just been waylaid caught the crowd’s attention, and they poured onto the beach in huge numbers.

With sharp beaks, my Sentinel gulls snipped away at tender ear-flesh among the stricken fishermen, who screamed in agonized terror atop the wharf.

The voice that riled up the crowd spoke loudly. “Go, my brothers and sisters! Find whoever dares to attack us at the wharf, and kill them. For a better future!”

“For a better future!” The crowd echoed him as they charged.

My Twilight crickets arrived at the Casablanca Inn via two exits I’d made, and fanned out across the wreckage, headed for the Boardwalk.

One of my Dire widows emerged from the exit beside the frisky couple, still going hot and heavy in missionary despite the cacophony surrounding them. My Widow leaned daintily forward to sink her sharp fangs into the top of the woman’s bare right foot, then repositioned and nipped the outside of the man’s left calf before skittering away across the sand to reach the Boardwalk above.

Each victim grunted and kicked about a little, but they kept screwing while blood oozed from the tiny punctures in their skin.

Huh. I guess the distraction of sex and not knowing what’s caused the irritation might be why they didn’t react much to being bitten.

Black Widow bites are known to be relatively painless compared with something like a bee sting—until the potent neurotoxic venom takes effect to cause terrible flu-like symptoms and joint pains.

My remaining eight Dire Widows emerged from hidden tunnels shortly after the amorous couple had been doomed, and all nine of them infiltrated the wreckage of the Boardwalk, seeking out hiding places near the Coconut Grove to await my command.

That’s when the shooting began.

From my minion exits at Casablanca, I heard Mike’s rifle every couple of seconds—the almost-steaedy rhythm of his shots only disrupted when he reloaded.

My ten remaining Devilflies arrived from an aborted gathering mission to the mountains, and I sent them skyward to guard against anyone trying to reach my four residents who were on-site.

Once the crowd rushing toward the wharf seemed to realize they were being shot, they panicked until some worked out where it was coming from.

“Shooter!” one of them shrieked as he pointed in Mike’s direction. Eighteen traitors charged at the Casablanca Inn’s ruins, while the rest continued to flee in terror.

The Dungeon in me watched a particular group with gleeful anticipation—the ones who’d panicked. All forty of my Devilflies raced to respond.

The traitors rushing at Mike and Joe fired blindly ahead with rifles, pistols, and shotguns. The bullets struck uselessly against the low hillside, with none coming close enough to harm the marines.

In contrast to their wasted attacks, I noticed that each time Mike fired a shot, someone collapsed to the sand. And it was always the person in front.

As my Devilflies caught up with those who fled, they wrapped the lower halves of their legs. Victims crashed forward, dropping their weapons to claw in panicked confusion at the silk restraining their movement. Fingers were sliced by the thin, tough strands of silk, and sand entered many paper-cut-like wounds while the Devilflies raced to immobilize others.

One tall, flailing man caught a Devilfly and crushed it to paste in his hands, receiving a fingertip full of venom for his trouble.

Morale failed the group charging at the Casablanca before they’d made it halfway across the beach—which wasn’t surprising since Mike had already sent ten of them to the ground.

Devilflies intercepted the remaining eight as they fled toward Coconut Grove, brushed the tips of their abdomens against clothing to attach silk, then raced around them.

Eight frantic faces met with cold sand.

The couple beneath the Boardwalk lay writhing beside one another with feverish eyes as the venom coursed through their bodies. Their mouths were agape with silent screams, as the moisture of their terminal union collected sand in embarrassing places.

“Fuck!” Mike shouted.

Joe and Mike backed away from their sniping position to take cover. A hand glowed against Mike’s shoulder, and the ragged wound through Mike’s right hand closed.

Mike’s rifle was left behind. The rear portion of its barrel and other parts above the trigger were badly damaged, like it had been struck hard from the side.

---

Minions: 100/100

Residents: 10/10

Denizens: 38934

Traps: 1/5