Breach of Peace (The Lawful Times #0.5)(24)

As the figure approached, Khlid saw a white mask under its capacious hood. The mask’s mouth formed a rictus grin with blood-red lips.

“Oh, and threatening one of the Chosen. The police certainly are getting bold. Your man, Rollins, I believe it was. He was much more compliant.”

Smits lowered his rifle. “Inspector, what is this?”

Samuel kept his aim true.

“My dear inspector, if you believe I have done wrong, come put that cord on me yourself.” The Chosen raised its hands, palms turned to the ceiling. It wore gauntlets with long black claws.

No one moved.

“Is there a problem, Inspector?” The soft voice poisoned the air.

Khlid was frozen. This was one of the Anointed—a Chosen. A human made into a demigod by God. This was not some corrupt M.O.D. operation. The Seventh had overstepped their power and stormed through a warehouse, murdering operatives working in full compliance with Imperial Will. With the Almighty’s will.

Samuel had reached the same conclusion. He lowered his rifle, placed it onto the floor, and got down to one knee. “No, Chosen.”

“Unfortunately, I think there is.”

Khlid knew it was coming. A tear traversed her eyelash. She fired her rifle, but too late. Her round pierced a barrel where the Chosen had stood. Black fluid sprayed out.

The Chosen were as fast as the stories claimed. The black-clawed figure was on Samuel in a blur. Khlid could not track precisely what happened, but in one instant, it lifted Samuel high above its head, and in the next, it rammed those claws through his chest. The bloody black claws protruded from Sam’s back, writhing like tentacles, fawning over each other, relishing the gore.

Samuel immediately went limp. He made no sound.

Khlid’s husband was dead.

Khlid didn't scream or buckle. She drew her pistol and opened fire. Chest, leg, and stomach. All three shots landed before the thing hurled her husband's body at her. Samuel’s limp corpse crashed into Khlid and sent her over the back of the wagon.

Gunshots and screams filled the air as the remaining of the Seventh died.

Khlid hurt all over. Chapman’s painkiller was clearly still working—without it, she would hardly have been able to move from the number of bruises and fractures. Instead, she simply clung to the body on top of her. Sam. Sam, I love you. Please don’t leave me. She kissed his face and pulled him even tighter. “We were stupid, Sam. We shouldn’t have come.”

Dozens more shots rang out as Khlid clutched Samuel to her chest. She stroked his face, wiping the blood away, and kissed him softly.

Sam, you are my heart.

The last screaming voice was extinguished.

The sound of heavy boots approached. The wagon she had retreated behind was tossed to the side as a child would an unwanted toy. The grinning white mask stared down at her. Khlid noticed gray eyes within.

“Love is a beautiful thing. Is it not, Inspector?”

Khlid closed her eyes and buried her face in Sam’s neck. She tensed for what was to come. She hoped it would be quick.

Instead of the sounds of her own flesh being torn to pieces, a guttural growl vibrated in the air. Khlid opened her eyes and looked up. The Chosen’s eyes were wide. It turned.

Behind the Chosen among the dead, stood Chapman—what had once been Chapman. Grotesque edges of bone protruded from his body. Fangs several inches long hung from his mouth. His skin had been pulled tight over corded muscle. He had become a walking nightmare.

The beast that was Chapman lunged at Khlid’s attacker.

The Chosen nearly fell on top of Khlid as Chapman’s jaws seized its throat. She heard claws tearing flesh. The Chosen screamed.

Chapman hurt a Chosen. Disbelief pierced her grief and shock.

The two stumbled away from her as the Chosen tried desperately to fend off the feral creature.

Khlid rolled to her knees and elbows. Her many injuries began to ring more loudly through what remained of the medicine Chapman had given her. She looked into Samuel’s still-open eyes. They were blank. The soul of her husband was gone. “Please, Almighty, forgive me.” She pushed herself to her feet, and began limping for the exit.

The sounds of the fight changed behind her—a scream of pain with tinges of Chapman’s voice.

She was close to the front door. It had been blasted open, now barely hanging on its hinges. Rainwater poured in from the streets. The downpour outside was like a solid wall.

Khlid reached the exit and spared one look back. She immediately wished she hadn’t. A loud, wet, ripping sound filled the air, followed by an unnatural death rattle. The agonized sound an animal makes as it is brutalized by a predator, mixed with demonic growling and unmistakably human wails.

A final snap. Now all Khlid could hear was the pounding of the rain outside.

“I am coming, little rabbit. Run as fast as you can.”





6





The Flight





Khlid smashed into the saloon door she had spotted through the rain and fell face-first into the brightly lit room. Several women screamed in surprise, and the sounds of pistols drawn immediately replaced the boisterous atmosphere the battered inspector had collapsed into. A piano player slammed his knees into his instrument as he leapt from the keys for his rifle. In the sudden, tense stillness, the only sound was of the rain blowing in behind her through the now broken door.