Liffguard

Christ, I started this story months ago and I've only just got round to finishing it. Anyway, short story, 1500 words. It follows on from On a darkling plain and Nirvana. At some point I hope to write more stories in this universe and string them into some sort of narrative.




Kiandra was just starting to doze when Imre threw the sheaf of papers into her lap.
“I have a new task for you,” he said. It was strange how rich with amusement his voice always seemed, even when it was clear his purpose was solemn. Kiandra didn’t disturb herself. Imre knew she was listening.
“A venator came here just over a week ago. He largely kept himself to himself until yesterday when he infected that young man there.” Imre nodded down at the documents Kiandra was now looking through.
“Robert Hastings,” she read aloud from the lead page. After scanning her eye over what little information there was, she glanced up at Imre. “Why tell me specifically? Why not just leave him to my regular sweeps?”
“Two reasons. Firstly, he’s strong.”
“How strong?” Kiandra did her best to sound nonchalant though she knew her eyes betrayed her.
“Sixth generation.”
Kiandra swore softly under her breath. Imre didn’t care whether she swore or not but she still felt uncomfortable doing it aloud. It was one of the few vestiges of her childhood.
“I’ve never handled a sixth, Imre.”
He ignored her.
“Secondly, the manner of his creation is somewhat unsettling. It was very public and very,” he said before pausing, “graphic. He killed a child whom I was hoping had some potential. Regardless, his creator is obviously sending us a message. Or rather, he is sending us a challenge.” He paused a second time to allow Kiandra to absorb his words. “I mean to answer that challenge. I will kill the elder. You will kill the younger, this Robert Hastings.”
“I’ve already told you Imre, I’ve never handled a sixth before.” She wasn’t too sure why she was even bothering to make the point. If Imre wanted something done, it tended to get done. He gazed at her with those eyes of his that always seemed halfway between twinkling laughter and stern admonition. They always looked as if they were weighing her up.
“Before tonight is through, you will have.”

*** *** *** *** ***

She had begun to make mental preparations for a hunt that hadn’t come. Imre had explained to her the strange rituals of the venators.
“The young one, Robert, hasn’t been blooded yet,” he had lectured her as she readied herself. His reply was simply an impatient stare.
“He killed the boy, true, but that was in the midst of the transformation. His psyche would have been in the process of breakdown and reassembly. Now, he will be tested to see if the transformation really took. If it did, his mind will be clear for the first time in his life. His focus will be unparalleled. Normally, the test would be a moral one; a loved one perhaps, or an innocent. Not like the child either but rather in the full cold knowledge of exactly what the action entailed.” He halted to ensure Kiandra was paying full attention.
“There’s something different about this one though. Something…dangerous. He seeks to kill you as his test. Instead you will kill him.”
“Where can I find him?” Kiandra had asked.
“You’ll know where he is,” he had replied with the barest hint of a smile playing about his lips, “he’ll be waiting for you.”
Standing amongst the pews of the old church, Kiandra began to let herself wonder if Imre had been wrong for once. She did her best to quash the thought as it arose but it still found its way through the cracks in her resolve. An hour had passed since she had arrived and the mysterious Robert still hadn’t shown himself. She pondered if this could be another of Imre’s cryptic tests. It couldn’t be coincidence that she had been drawn here of all places. The accusing stares of the figures in the stained-glass windows were all too familiar to her. The wind whispered through gaps in the stone walls, seemingly giving voices to the glass faces. Despite the stillness, there was something about the atmosphere that raised Kiandra’s hackles. It seemed only fitting when one of the windows suddenly shattered and a shadowed figure stepped down from the shard-strewn ledge. Kiandra didn’t need to see his face to know that he was Robert.

The newcomer said nothing. Instead he simply launched himself at Kiandra. Sidestepping a murderous punch, she let herself relax. All the worries she had been harbouring for this encounter disappeared. She didn’t suppress them or lock them away, they simply weren’t there any more. Whether she would be strong enough to survive this, she didn’t know. Nor did she care. She smashed aside Robert’s second attack and lost herself completely in the moment.

Fighting Robert was like fighting a flock of birds. Kiandra struck as quickly as her focus would allow but he just flowed out of the way before turning on her with renewed energy. She sent a flurry of punches towards his throat and face but each one was swatted away. Taking advantage of Kiandra’s own momentum, Robert stepped to the left and planted his shin into her midsection with a thundering kick. She felt the air go out of her as her body doubled-up in mid air. Robert moved naturally into position behind her and brought both hands down hard onto her skull. White lights exploded in Kiandra’s vision with the impact and she found her knees buckling to the floor. Without missing a beat, Robert spun her round. Holding tight to the back of her head, his knee slammed into her jaw again and again. With the final strike he let go and Kiandra’s body flew backwards in a graceful arc with the force of the blow.

Robert never spoke. Even now, as Kiandra lay broken before him, he didn’t gloat. Instead, he simply reached inside his jacket and pulled out a gun. He pointed it at Kiandra and pulled the trigger. That done, he turned and walked away.

Kiandra didn’t think. She didn’t have time to. As the muzzle flash briefly illuminated the room, she focused. The air grew close around her. It became warm and sticky, almost like jelly. She could feel it rubbing against the bullet; slowing it down, stealing its energy. When the red-hot globule of lead struck her in the chest, shards of bone flew from the wound along with a spray of blood. Several of her ribs shattered but the bullet did not penetrate. Spent, Kiandra blacked out.

*** *** *** *** ***

When she finally awoke Kiandra had no idea how long she had been unconscious. It was light outside, so she knew it must have been several hours at a minimum, though it could have been days. She tried to move but her vision exploded with coloured lights and a sharp, paralysing pain shot through her head. She would have cried out if her chest hadn’t felt like it was full of broken glass. Even in her younger, more reckless days, Kiandra had never experienced pain like this. Every breath felt like a knife thrust, every blink was a hammer to the face. She tried to move again, slowly this time, but the agony was too much. She let herself slump back down to the ground.

After allowing a few brief tears, Kiandra calmed herself. Keeping her breathing slow and shallow so as not to stress her broken ribs, she began to softly recite one of Imre’s mantras.
“All things are impossible until they are not,” she whispered. “All things are possible unless they are not.”
Clearly, she couldn’t move under her own strength. Not yet anyway. “How can I get up?” she thought. “How?”

The idea came to Kiandra slowly. She knew she should be dead but that somehow the bullet that should have killed her merely shattered her ribcage. The details escaped her. All she knew as that, at the moment of reckoning, all thoughts had fled from her. All concerns and emotions had vanished leaving nothing but her focus. Her power of will had acted purely as it needed to act, unchained by conscious decision or irrational instinct. The air itself had followed her guidance and worked to slow the oncoming bullet. A question remained though. Could she do it again?

Repeating the effect was difficult. Without the power of the moment, Kiandra was left with nothing but her thoughts. Every attempt to exorcise her own mind met the same block, an image of Imre staring at her with disappointed amusement. Frustrated, she swore. She wished she hadn’t as the agony in her chest intensified. Coughing and hacking up blood, Kiandra did her best to stifle a scream. For a few seconds, she lost herself totally in the pain. In that moment, Kiandra knew her salvation.

She took a moment to brace herself. There was an almost imperceptible slump as she relaxed and accepted what had to be done. With a deep, affirming breath, Kiandra pushed herself off the ground and screamed.

The pain that engulfed her mind was like nothing she could have imagined. It was a furious storm that cleansed her of her thoughts. With nothing to focus on but the pain, Kiandra let herself go. Without conscious thought, she simply let her will do what it had to do. Even as her knees began to buckle the air seemed to solidify around her shattered body. She stood tall and placing one trembling foot in front of the other, walked out of the church.

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