Guardians of the Gates - Part 1, The New Breed by Jeff Schanz (best short books to read .TXT) 📕

“We were colleagues at work. Frank was in sales. Global sales. He was very successful. That’s why they stationed him over here. He was just… we were friends.” A little white lie, but it felt better than the things she had thought earlier during their walk.

Sebastian nodded.

She stiffened as something suddenly occurred to her. What if that thing really is a werewolf, and all that other movie nonsense is true, and if someone is bitten they might turn into… oh, my god!

Sebastian sighed. “Easy, Miss. No one’s going to turn into anything.”

Ok, what the hell? And – good, by the way. But, what the hell? Am I talking out loud and didn’t notice?

“No,” he said, “your unfortunate friend – uh, Frank, was it? – is dead for keeps.” Sebastian looked back at the dead werewolf thing and paused for a moment. Though he was preoccupied with the dead creature, it seemed like something else was bothering him. He sighed and said, “And looks like this wolfer isn’t going to disintegrate like he’s supposed to. That complicates things. And I doubt the police will understand what happened, so – we probably need to get moving.”

She nodded, sighed, and hung her head. Her hands went to her sweater pockets and tried to clasp each other through the fabric. In a small voice, entirely to herself, she started rambling. “Great, now I’m running from the police? Some weird thing attacks me, kills my – friend, I get saved by some cowboy ninja, and he tells me I need to get going before the police arrest me.” She nodded again, pinching back the desire to cry. “Sure. Of course, I’ll just go home. I can make some tea, watch the telly, just forget the whole thing. Right? I’ll try some of my new tea and catch up on my shows, just like nothing happened. No one will know. Nothing happened at all. I don’t even know where Frank was tonight. Never saw him. Never saw anything at all. Except… except that everyone knew he was taking me out. He told everyone. Everyone will know. They’ll find him. And they’ll see that he… They’ll think that I… that I was…” Here came the tears. Never looking up, she continued to babble to herself. “Fantastic. Just fantastic. I’m going mad. Mm hmm. I have to go now. Yes, have to get home. I should probably pack. Go somewhere. But I have a presentation tomorrow, I can’t leave. I’ll leave the next day. I’ll say I’m sick and need some time off. Right. I can work remotely, find an island that has wi-fi. But they could find me, couldn’t they? That’s fine, I’ll just say it was a lion. Lions escape from zoos, don’t they? I’ll just stay here and say a lion did it. They’ll believe that, right? Yeah?”

She hadn’t noticed Sebastian approaching her. He placed his hand on her shoulder. It snapped her out of her trance. She wasn’t sure if she was offended or thankful.

“Whoa, Miss,” he said. “I think we’re losin’ ya, here.”

You don’t say?

“You’re just a little – shocked right now,” he said, patronizingly. His eyes stared at her mouth, not her eyes. “It’s ok. Understandable. Not exactly easy stuff to process. I’d buy you a drink but they don’t allow swords in bars.”

More Jokes? Really? Evidently, he noticed and dropped his head and sighed.

“Sorry. Listen – you’ve been through a lot, and you probably need some time to digest it all, so you do need to get home, ok?”

The car. Frank’s driver.

“Frank had a car meeting us at the gate over there,” she said, chin pointing to an area behind Sebastian.

Sebastian cocked an eyebrow.

“I’d guess it’s still there,” said Jillian. “I have no idea what to tell him, if he’d take me home, or… how do I… what am I going to say?”

Sebastian nodded, thinking. “Alright. I got an idea, as long as you promise you won’t freak out if I borrow your friend’s coat.”

She rolled her eyes and was about to tell him she didn’t care when something else caught her attention. “Umm, Sebastian?” She pointed with her eyes to the severed head of the beast. It wasn’t a beast anymore. Still monster-like, but not the same. It was changing. Becoming more human.

“Oh, shit,” said Sebastian, quietly, but Jillian noticed.

Her eyebrows stretched up. This was the freakiest thing she’d ever seen and probably would start going into hysterics any second unless, for some reason, despite the insane thing that was going on now, if this Sebastian person to blew it off and said some nonchalant remark about how it was no big deal, maybe she could keep it together. “All these werewolf guys do that stuff,” he should say. Not, “Oh, shit.”

“Umm, is he supposed to do…,” she started. Come on, say it’s ok. Say it’s fine, let’s get you home.

“Nope,” he said, teeth clenched.

The head had human eyes now. They had lightened to a milky cast with brown irises. The nose was still reptilian, but much shorter, and the ears had shrunk to only human size with a slight point. Its mouth was only half the length it was before, noticeably shrinking at the speed of a snail crawling. Jillian felt sick.

“That,” she stammered, “that, that thing is turning into a, a…” she ran out of breath to finish, then swallowed.

“Uh huh,” said Sebastian. He screwed up his face. “Not good.”

Stay upright. Keep standing, it’s ok, it’s… Jillian’s ankles failed. Her knees had no more stability. She started an uncontrolled lean backward.

“Ohhh boy,” said Sebastian, sliding his hands under her reclined back. “Miss? Miss?”

“Jillian,” she said, blinking rapidly, lids working hard to stay open.

“Jillian,” he said. “Hang on, we’re gonna get you home.”

“It’s fine. Right? Fine?”

Sebastian squinted, then relaxed. “Absolutely.”

Jillian was out.

 

 

 

 

Barton Dunby, “Bart” to his friends, reclined in the driver’s seat of the limousine, eyes flitting over the copy of the Daily Mail he had read twice. Frank had told him to park near the eastern gate and wait. Even though Frank warned him, it may take a while to “chip the frost off this ice-princess,” Bart had expected the couple to emerge a long time ago. The usual objects of Frank’s affection commonly returned to the car, lip-locked with Frank, within a half-hour after they had been dropped off, at which time the plan became to head back to Frank’s flat. Once there, Bart was free to leave them both and go to his pub.

Even though Bart had seen plenty of Americans like Frank, Bart didn’t assume they were all that way. He had driven a cab not so long ago and enjoyed conversing with the clients. Most of the Americans were pretty decent, nice tippers, and very exuberant. They were excited about this city, which he found amusing because he’d been here his whole life and was about as bored with it as can be. All there was in London was worn down, overhyped old buildings, cheesy souvenirs, and a whole lot of foreigners, many of which considered themselves to be British. Keep on believin’ it, ya buggers. You’re all about as British as the plastic bobble-headed doll of Prince William made in China, in that shop over there run by Pakistani’s. They can call themselves British, but at least they’ll never be English.

It was all the same anymore. But as long as the Arsenal football club kept their winning streak going, he didn’t care much. Arsenal’s star striker’s ankle was holding up, even after that Man U gorilla tried to take him down yesterday. It was a crime, that’s what it was. The Man U buggers paid that bastard to do nothing more than take down Arsenal’s striker. Going for the ball, my arse.

Bart was about to reread the article about the Man U thuggery when it started raining. He sighed to himself. No problem really, as long as Frank and his lady friend came out soon. A little water on the seats wasn’t an issue, but if they waited too long and got muddy, then he’d have to clean out the footwells, and that would be a pain. But as he figured it, Miss Ice-Princess wasn’t typical of Frank’s usual suspects, and didn’t seem in lock-step with Frank’s ultimate plans, so he doubted they’d be heading back to Frank’s flat anytime soon. More than likely, Bart would be taking her home, then driving Frank home alone. He could’ve warned his client that he was going to strike out, but it wasn’t Bart’s job. He folded up his paper and tried to remember if he had a towel under the seats.

A figure suddenly emerged from the park gate. Very few folks were out mid-week after midnight, so he assumed it was at least one of his duo, even though the rain obscured his vision. Confirming the assumption, they both came toward him. What the …? The girl was being carried in the man’s arms, limp and seemingly unconscious. Bart started to get out to help.

The man was wearing Frank’s coat, but wasn’t Frank. He came over to Bart with quick yet labored steps. Though Jillian was petite, no human was light, and she was starting to slide in the man’s arms. The man bucked and adjusted his grip on her. He had pulled the collar of the coat up to his cheeks and the collar was darkened with something red. Bart had no idea what to think.

“You, driver!” said the man who was most definitely not Frank, and also American, it seemed. “Call the police. Your friends have been attacked in the park by an escaped zoo lion.”

You’re joking. In Regent’s Park?

The man had a bulge on his back pushing Frank’s coat higher than it should be. Probably a backpack full of rapist gear. “She’s fainted, but I think she’s ok,” the strange man said. “I’m going to get her to the hospital. Frank’s probably dead, throat cut. Need the police and an ambulance, now! Hurry!”

The strange man turned and sprinted off in a labored gait across the street with his unconscious load. Bart wasn’t sure whether he should follow the man and save the girl, or run and see if he needed to save his client. Maybe Frank was dead, and maybe it was a ploy. Whatever the case, he would definitely call the police. Lion, my arse.

Bart long ago mastered the art of mobile phone readiness, flicking the phone up and snapping a quick photo of the strange man as he ran away. He caught mostly just the back and side of the man, and at a distance, but it was better than nothing. Pocketing the mobile, Bart flipped the Daily Mail over his head as a makeshift umbrella and ran toward the park gate to find Frank.

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 2

 

 

 

Sebastian’s cumbersome trip back to Jillian’s apartment, hauling her unconscious body while trying not to be seen, was an impressive performance. First, he had to fish around in her purse to find her address and keys. His borrowed motorcycle had been hidden a block away from Regent’s park, and he had managed to drive slowly along residential streets with her body draped around him, both of them remaining upright. The cloth belt from Frank’s coat secured her torso to his, and he steadied her with one arm while he drove with the other. A difficult feat on a motorcycle and he was a little proud of it.

Inside Jillian’s apartment, Sebastian placed her gently down on her couch. Opening a pouch on his belt, he produced a small, metal vile and flipped the top open. He had given her a quick whiff of an opposite kind of vile earlier when he had stopped at a corner and noticed her reviving. It was preferable for her to stay unconscious as long as possible. Her fainting had ended up helped matters as he would’ve eventually had to knock her out