Paranormals (Book 2): We Are Not Alone (42 page)

“No!” Shining Star snapped.

After a moment, Larr closed out with, “
Stand strong, Callin. You are the Shining Star.
”

As the Grand Lord tucked his communicator into his belt, Vortex asked, “What’s a ‘sigh-torum’?”

“Cytorem,” Shining Star replied, a bit curt. “There’s no literal translation. Your closest idiom would be ‘trial by fire.’ Let’s go.” The latter was clearly a command, and the Grand Lord strode toward the flames with authority, his silver cape flaring out behind him.

The others followed.

When they’d gotten fifty yards closer, the west end of the compound teetered on the verge of collapsing in on itself ... but rather than caving in, the roof bulged outward. A moment later, one of the eaves split and flew apart, sending burning shrapnel sailing into the night sky. Then the wall below that section burst, and three figures emerged — they were mostly in silhouette against the flames, but Powerhouse still recognized one of them instantly.

“It’s them!” he yelled, his stride increasing. “
That’s
the walrus-thing that killed Pendler. If you guys see him do this,” he imitated the alien’s arm motion from right before its gravity attack, “duck, back up, fly away — whatever it takes, don’t let it get you!”

As they all sped up to keep alongside Powerhouse, the three figures grew more distinct. It wasn’t a pretty sight.

The most humanoid-looking one was also the reason for the roof’s breaking apart — it was, standing about twice Powerhouse’s height. Its naked skin read like stone in the firelight, and three glowing white eyes, one above the other two, peered from beneath a ridged skull that made Vortex think of a Klingon from
extremely tall
Star Trek—
no, scratch that, this was more elaborate; it looked more like an armored ankylosaur had crawled onto its head and latched on. The whole package reminded him of a triclops, something from the old Dynamation adventure movies — an alien, courtesy of Ray Harryhausen, complete with a G-rated lack of genitalia.

Alongside the quasi-humanoid triclops, the bulky one rang true to Powerhouse’s comparison to an elephant seal or walrus with a lamprey’s face, but it was the third one in particular that made Vortex’s skin crawl as it scuttled through the broken picture window. As with the others, it wasn’t an exact equivalent to anything on Earth, but if it did have a counterpart, Vortex likened it to a five-and-a-half foot long
wasp
— it had the reddish-black, chitinous-like exoskeleton, the segmented limbs (eight instead of six, but who was counting?), the bulbous eyes over a puckered little mouth, the gossamer wings, and worst of all, a glistening stinger at the end of its back section. Its body wasn’t as crisply broken into head-thorax-abdomen, nor did it have any antennae that Vortex could see, but the similarities were strong enough to make him feel almost ill. He had always hated Earthbound wasps, and he was sure this appalling thing would be visiting his nightmares for years to come.

“Okay, how about we keep it simple:” he said aloud, trying to sound cavalier as he pointed at each one, “ ‘Triclops,’ ‘walrus,’ and ‘ugly ass wasp’?”

“Works for me,” Shockwave agreed in disgust. “Jesus ...”

The wasp alien released a sharp, shrill buzz. The other two instantly zeroed in on the approaching humans and their Taalu companion. The walrus rumbled and spat, pointing a flipper-like hand at Powerhouse; the titanic triclops flexed its arms, and slender blades, with the same stone-look as its skin, slid from the outside of its wrists, extending until they were easily five feet in length.

“Grand Lord,” Takayasu asked as he drew his V9, “any final suggestions?”

Shining Star’s reply was even more terse than before. “The same as Larr’s: Don’t hold back.”

“Didn’t plan to,” Shockwave spat, and he put on a burst of speed that moved him ahead of the others.

The triclops alien pointed a wrist-blade at Shining Star. “
Blee nok, Taalu! Ceptol tem—
!”

“Whatever, dumbass!” Shockwave yelled back.

Coming to an abrupt halt, Shockwave dug his feet into the dirt, jammed both fists forward, and cut loose with a double kinetic wave. The air rippled as the twin shockwaves closed the distance to the aliens — the waves broke over them and slammed into the blazing building behind them, sending more flaming debris scattering. The attack toppled the triclops, and sent the wasp tumbling head-over-abdomen, but the walrus held its ground, barely.

“Ha!” Shockwave cried in jubilation. “These guys ain’t so—”

The triclops didn’t bother standing as it drove its wrist-blades into the ground. The earth between the groups rose up like an ocean wave.

“—oh, shit!” was Mark’s less-than-triumphant summation.

The soil-tsunami smashed into them. Shining Star and Shockwave took to the air, but Shockwave wasn’t fast enough and he spun out of control. Vortex and Takayasu hunkered down for all the good it would do them, but Powerhouse stepped in front and punched the tsunami as it hit. The dirt and grass were too soft to split apart at the blow, but much of the tsunami’s momentum was interrupted — instead of breaking their bones, Vortex and Takayasu found themselves flailing about in loose earth to avoid a smothering burial.

PCA

As a thick cloud of dust stole his allies from view, with shafts of dizzying firelight dancing throughout, Shining Star forced himself to focus on the enemy. Radiating intense silver energy around his body, the Grand Lord dove into the Noctoponm’s midst. He barreled into the “walrus,” knocking the blubbery creature to the ground. Pressing his advantage, he placed a booted foot upon its torso and extended a hand toward its face.

No holding back, just as he promised Larr.

An energy bolt burst from Shining Star’s fingers, frying the creature’s—

But the destructive beam did not find its intended target. The instant Shining Star fired, a sharp pain spiked into his lower back, spoiling his aim as he burned a divot into the ground. He twisted at the waist, lashing behind him with a fist, but found no target; the insectoid clung to his back, its stinger worming into him as it tried to penetrate his skin. Thrashing about in an attempt to shake the creature loose, Shining Star felt the stinger’s point of contact burning.

Then the tall one, the “triclops,” loomed through the dust over him, its stony blades at the ready. He could meet this new attack on its own terms, even with the wasp on him, if only he could steal a moment to focus, to free his cape ...

The wasp’s stinger thrust harder than ever, the walrus clambered to its feet, and the triclops drew back a massive blade to slice through his neck.

Roaring his defiance, Shining Star demonstrated the reason for his appellation. His silver envelope re-energized and expanded from his body. The triclops bellowed and turned away, a hand over its three eyes; the walrus squalled in pain.

But while Shining Star expected the wasp to take the worst of the damage, he was shocked to instead feel a counter energy spasm right back at him. Thankfully, it separated him from the wasp’s eight-legged clutches—

His reprieve was cut short as he felt his body crushing under oppressive weight. He was forced to the ground, grateful that he no longer needed to breathe as he once did. But his bones, his joints ...!

The walrus advanced upon him, its flabby lips churning.

“I don’t think so!”

This time it was Powerhouse who emerged from the fire-lit dust. He threw his entire body into a punch across the walrus’ fang-filled mouth. But the walrus actually held its own this time — the ground cracked and sank under its feet as it increased its own weight, and when Powerhouse struck it again, the creature’s fat body barely quaked.

Powerhouse grabbed at its plump neck, intending to hold its head steady as he delivered what he hoped would be a knockout blow right between its eye orbs.

With a coughing spew, the walrus spat acid straight into Powerhouse’s face. The human cried out and stumbled back, his mask sizzling away as he groped at his eyes.

Shining Star tried desperately to stand ...

PCA

Vortex and Takayasu arose from the loose earth in time to hear Powerhouse’s outcry. They could tell the general direction of the fight, thanks to the dominant glow of the compound fire, but otherwise the dust blocked their vision.

“Can you see anything?” Takayasu asked him, rooting around in the turned soil until he found his V9.

After a second of experimentation, Vortex shook his head. “No, the fire’s overwhelming my infrared. And how do we know these aliens give off body heat, anyway?”

“Good point.” Takayasu wiped a hand across his dirty face, spitting grit to the ground.

Vortex looked down at the Lieutenant’s sidearm. “You might want something with more stopping power for this fight.” He added in a lighter tone, “Do you still have that paint gun?”

Takayasu smirked. “Don’t be a smartass. I get enough of that from Mark— whoa, speaking of!”

Both men instinctively ducked as Shockwave sailed overhead a mere ten feet off the ground.

Back to business, Vortex said, “Come on ...”

PCA

Powerhouse stayed on his feet, but his eyes were swollen almost shut. He was afraid to swing around blindly — what if he hit one of his friends? He hated the idea, but his best bet might be to wait for the aliens to come to him, then grab whatever he could and squeeze the hell out of—

A strong buzzing warned him at the last second, but even as he threw himself to one side, the wasp struck. It collided with him from the right, its stinger jamming into his lower-back, twisting and digging right over his kidney.

“Get the hell off me!” He jammed an elbow at the insectoid. His arm connected with its armored torso, and while he did not hear the
crack!
he had hoped for, it did release a buzzing whine as it tumbled away from him.

A thud sounded from behind him, and before he could lash out, he heard Shockwave bellow, “Guys! Hit the dirt!” Powerhouse didn’t know what Mark had in mind, but he dropped, praying he could steal a moment for his burning eyes to recuperate.

PCA

Spreading his arms outward, his palms open with fingers splayed, Shockwave turned in a slow circle, firing off a widespread kinetic wave at the lowest level he could manage. As he had hoped, a great deal of the loose dust wafted away, clearing the area around them. Shockwave tried to take a quick headcount, but before he got beyond Powerhouse, hunkered down and rubbing furiously at his swollen eyes, the big-ass triclops leaped right at him, its huge wrist-blades a second away from spearing straight through him.

Shit!
Shockwave jerked both hands upward and his waves twisted the triclops’ blades skyward. The three-eyed freak yelled something at him, but Mark was already on his next attack, a flat-handed shoving motion that slapped his next shockwave where the sternum would be on a human. He had intended an in-your-face attack — the alien’s height was throwing him off — but it brought the bruiser’s charge to an abrupt halt.

Maybe I should get some lift,
he thought,
trim our height difference a bit.

Firing off a quick prayer to the gods of fine shockwave control, he sent part of his focus down to his bare feet.

In that moment, the triclops yelled at him again and drove its blades back into the ground.

Damn it!
The last thing they needed was another dirt-tsunami.

The earth was already rising around the triclops’ blades, and Shockwave acted on instinct. He had just started sending waves through his soles, so he switched from giving himself lift to sending the shockwaves, not
against
the ground, but
into
the ground, conducting them through the soil itself.

And damned if it didn’t work! The growing mound of earth around the alien’s blades was smashed by Shockwave’s counterattack; instead of a tidal wave turned against its enemies, the ground bucked like an angry bull, cycloning upward right underneath the triclops. Most of it splayed to either side of its wrist-blades, but a good amount struck it in the torso and armored head. The triclops straightened to its full height, tottering and spewing dirt.

“Take that, asshole,” Shockwave said with great pleasure as he drew back a fist, the air around his knuckles already rippling — this one was going straight where the alien’s balls should be; if he was lucky, their anatomies would be similar enough to make it worthwhile.

It didn’t go as planned.

Shockwave was stepping forward to ram his primed fist home when the triclops’ ribcage rippled, and two new arms emerged underneath the existing pair. The fact that they lacked their own wrist-blades was all that saved Shockwave’s life as one arm knocked his fist aside, sending the kinetic wave harmlessly into the night sky, while the other struck him across the face. And while the new arms were far less meaty than the first two, the force with which that stony hand connected knocked him into the air, crashing back to earth several yards away.

Shockwave was unconscious before his feet left the ground. He literally never knew what hit him.

PCA

Powerhouse’s stinging eyes had recovered enough to witness Shockwave’s collapse. Growling the kind of swear words that would’ve made Mark proud, he moved in on the now-six-limbed triclops — the Noctoponm’s randomized powers were really starting to piss him off! The large alien whirled on him faster than he was ready for, and he only had time to throw up a forearm to block the oncoming wrist-blade. The blade connected with enough power for him to feel it and to knock his stride off kilter — the edge failed to penetrate his skin, much to the triclops’ obvious vexation, but it didn’t break the blade off as he had hoped, either. Ducking under the triclops’ next swing, Powerhouse stepped in and punched it in the hip, knocking it halfway around. He followed this with a good old fashioned kick to the ass, but as with Shockwave, the triclops’ great height ruined his aim — his foot met with the back of its thigh, but that was better than nothing. The alien went down on all fours (all sixes), and Powerhouse hustled forward to punt the bastard to the moon.