Chronicles of Jonathan Tibbs 1: The Never Hero (51 page)

Jonathan stopped, cutting the thoughts off in his mind. Letting his worry run rampant like this couldn’t be allowed. He’d made every effort to think of all contingencies to avoid the road to doubt.

Whatever the case, Jonathan’s move was stealth. If anyone was going to get the drop, it would be him. As he came up the cement ramp connecting the third floor of the garage to the fourth he hugged the corner, trying to get sight of the creature before engaging with it. He heard nothing; no heavy feet on cement, no guttural grunting or monstrous breathing. The quiet was unsettling. Was the damn Ferox standing perfectly still?

He took a deep breath and poked his head quickly around the corner, and it all became clear.

It wasn’t as Jonathan had imagined it, though he’d momentarily experienced it himself. A red light emanating out of him and surrounding him, thickening and insulating him until a flash of white had returned him to his kitchen table. The pain had been so great that night on the dock. It had stopped him from having awe for the phenomenon now in front of him.

As he approached it, the gate was all fluid and energy. It was nearly as wide as the parking space it hovered over. The outer shell a turbulent liquid, a thick red and black cloud of fluid held in the shape of an orb by forces outside Jonathan’s comprehension. It was a beautiful thing, but only in the manner of beauty that unnatural things can have. Nature, after all, had never expected its laws could be bent to create this thing. Science and technology had manifested it, the power of thought seeming to break the rules of reality.

Why was it here like this though? Why hadn’t it just been as short lived as the one Jonathan had experienced? He stood hypnotized by the light it was giving off and wondered. Perhaps the experience of time inside and outside of the orb was simply different.

The fluid on the surface of the gate was becoming more agitated. Currents of electricity were cracking within and accelerating in their frequency. Jonathan could smell static in the air around him as he neared it. He pulled the knapsack off his back and put the contents at his feet, tucking one of the flares into his back pocket. The sensation in his head was becoming sharper. His grip on Excali-bar tightened on instinct, his body reacting before his conscious mind formed the thought.

Within the sphere a figure had begun to form, a dark shadow within the red. The shape he’d seen so frequently in his nightmares. He eased into a fighting stance.

Wait for the flash.

The moment built
,
arcing electricity coming to a crescendo within the gate. The shape solidified. The white light flashed, threatening to blind him. He clenched his eyes shut as the gateway delivered its trespasser, and swung. Excali-bar moved through air and connected with something solid.

The Ferox crashed into the garage wall and fell down onto a knee, stopping itself from falling face first on the cement floor with one hand. Before it had a chance to know what dimension it was in, a red rubber gas can exploded against the wall behind it, covering the beast with the fluid.

The Ferox’s eyes looked up, aware of the cold liquid running over it, searching for the source.

The sound of a flare igniting would be foreign to the beast, as was the smell of the gas it found coating its body, but the noise helped it to focus on the direction of its attacker.

Challenger?

Jonathan heard his own voice translate, asking the question in his mind over the abhorrent dialect of the Ferox.

He stood ready, the staff held behind him with one hand, the other holding the lit flare.

“Technically,” Jonathan said, tossing the flare into the gasoline, “I’m the defending champion.”

CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

MONDAY | SEPTEMBER 5, 2005 | 4:55 AM

IT
seemed to take the blaze without concern, bringing its arm up to examine the fire now burning away on its skin.

This beast wasn’t what he’d expected. It had the same body, the same black tar chaotically wrapping its exterior, but it didn’t have the face or coloring of Sickens the Fever. This creature’s undertones were a dark green, frog-like beneath the black tar. Its ears were attached to its skull, short ridges running along the sides of its head and down its neck, as though the appendages hadn’t yet freed themselves, hadn’t fully formed. Its face was angrier, its white eyes spaced further apart, darting around its surroundings rapidly, more birdlike than the predatory gaze of the first Ferox. The most noticeable difference was that this one had a tail.

Jonathan didn’t like the sight of the tail. He hadn’t been training to fight something with a fifth limb.

Flames, Challenger?
the beast asked.
My world flows molten.

Its jaws moved, rapidly clicking together as the beast studied him, as though its mouth was only half under its conscious control, like its teeth had a will of their own. Its entire body seemed to be held at bay, as though its instinct to kill was impatient with its mind’s warning for caution. This Ferox was not the controlled, discerning, and comparatively calm nightmare that Jonathan had fought before. This wasn’t what he had prepared for, this thing looked rabid. The fire engulfing the beast only added to its presence, enhancing its demon like qualities and the chaos he saw within its eyes.

The blazing beast took a step away from the cracked garage wall, easing itself into an aggressive stance. He let it pull away from the wall and mimed it movements, drawing it into the open garage. Circling one another, both watching how the other moved, measuring their enemy. Jonathan had wondered if an animal staring down a hunter with a spear knew the spear was deadly or simply focused on the hunter. The Ferox had studied the staff in Jonathan’s hands and its eyes had lingered on the pointed ends. He studied its tail. Like the creatures jaws, it seemed to move outside of its conscious awareness.

Eyes locked, the distance between them shrinking, both waiting for who dared make the first move.

A sharp ringing filled the air. The alarm, followed almost immediately by the downpour of water from the buildings sprinkler system, surprised the Ferox. It pounced at Jonathan on instinct.

He’d waited for the trigger, he spun, sidestepping the beast as it lunged for where he’d been standing. He came around, swinging hard using his momentum to put more power behind the attack. Excali-bar connected hard with the creature’s back, sending it airborne over the garage floor and then rolling over the cement. Its claws dug into the ground trying to halt its motion, but it couldn’t get the traction it needed on the wet floors. Its nails raked the ground, sparks trailing them, as it reoriented itself, turning to face him even as its momentum pulled it away. It came to a halt against a pillar.

From where it stood its tail seemed agitated. The smoke from the now extinguished blaze wafted off its skin. The water flowing around it caught its attention, and it seemed to falter, hesitate. He’d hoped for this, the downpour of water foreign, possibly something that could evoke fear in a species that couldn’t swim and came from a planet without rain.

“My world is covered in oceans,” Jonathan said.

His enemy seemed to inspect him anew, its head bobbing as it looked at him with one eye, then angled its head to take him in with the other.

Its impatience won out, it dropped to all fours and charged him. Jonathan moved out of its attack as it neared, dropping into a shoulder roll and coming up ready with point of the staff between them. The Ferox whirled, coming to a halt in front of the point.

It was the calm before the storm.

He swung and the beast reacted, leaning back to let the blow sail past. The claws reached for him as he moved but found only air. He retreated, parrying the attacks with his staff as the beast reached for him. Neither stood still, movement was life, each maneuvering for a damaging blow. At times the Ferox seemed to move more like a lizard, and he felt he was fighting a wingless dragon. Blows were landed, but not solid enough to do real damage.

Overzealous, Jonathan brought Excali-bar around and down hard. Missing the creature and striking the cement with a loud ringing clang, the bar puncturing a jagged hole in the cement. It had been a mistake, he’d left himself open.

He had to roll backward, retreating through the pooling water on the garage floor, keeping his grip on Excali-bar, to avoid the beast’s claws, but it was still on him. He brought the staff up to help defend as the Ferox rammed him with its forward momentum, disrupting his guard and leaving him open for a backhand punch that caught him hard across the chest. The fist jerked him off his feet and sent him into the wall of the garage facing the street.

He landed on his feet and ignored the sharp pain. It had been close, but not fatal. He had to be more careful. Still, it wasn’t lost on him that he’d taken the hit without getting the urge to wet his pants.

You have a plan, follow it, move the fight now.

Sure that the beast would pursue him, Jonathan gripped excali-bar and turned, throwing himself through the opening in the garage wall and free falling four stories down to the street. The air was cold as it swept up past him in his soaked clothes. He landed hard, the sidewalk cracking beneath him, but his legs could take it. He didn’t need to look; he could sense it following him as he leaped forward.

He adapted quickly to being able to leap great distances. The strength in his core allowed him to adjust for his lack of gymnastics skill. The months of martial arts training and gym work combined with the power surging through his body and gave him grace. The ability to absorb so much force on his legs and push off allowed him to keep moving despite obstacles. He could pounce off the side of a building mid-leap if need be.

He knew where he was headed, the closest spot he’d scouted. He didn’t bother looking back, he could feel the thing chasing him, could hear vehicles flipped out of the creature’s path when it was impeded, but he needed to make sure it stayed close, that it didn’t start thinking it was being led into a trap.

Keep it pissed off.

He allowed the Ferox to close the distance between them. When he could see his destination through the city skyline he made his move, coming to a stop after he felt the Ferox was already in mid-leap and headed straight for his back. When the instinct in his mind screamed that the Ferox was about to crash into him, he turned swinging Excali-bar like a baseball bat.

It caught the beast full-force in the abdomen. He felt the blow vibrate down the shaft of the bar into his hands, heard the concussion of the hit in his eardrums. Its body shot away from him like a missile, crashing through the wall of a brick apartment building across the street from him.

His eyes widened at the hole in the building, bricks still falling loose. He knew it had felt that one.

Still, the sheer destruction they were capable of was frightening. If things got out of hand, they could level buildings. He strapped the staff back into the harness and waited for his adversary to show his face at the mouth of the hole.

It reminded him of waiting for Sickens the Fever to come out of the overturned semi. The fear he’d felt that night threatening to seep into this moment, and he fought it down in his mind. He couldn’t allow what had happened to him before force its way in on this.

The boy who got his ass kicked three months ago is not here right now, Jonathan.

Finally, that ugly face emerged from within darkness. Jonathan gave it a moment to take a good long look at him. The Ferox was angry, but it wasn’t about to make another mistake. He could see its eager bloodthirsty impulse struggling with the caution that warned that its opponent was cunning.

Jonathan raised one hand and pointed into the sky. The creature’s eyes followed to where his finger indicated.

“We fight there,” Jonathan said, letting his eyes linger. He refused to show the beast any of the fear he held at bay.

He could see it understood. It wasn’t going to take a time out and stroll down the street with him, but it knew that Jonathan was choosing their arena.

“How bad do you want my life, trespasser?” Jonathan asked.

If it had wanted him dead before, he could see the beast wanted it twofold now. Jonathan turned, leaping in the direction he had indicated. With his hands completely free his balance and maneuverability was all the more efficient, in no time he was a block away, the Ferox in pursuit.

The construction site came into view. Jonathan had never been inside, only observed it through the fences. It was deserted for the night, and he leaped the barbed wire without pause. The construction of the skyscraper’s skeleton was nearly complete, forty floors, 500 feet, of steel and rebar-reinforced concrete floors.

It has to be enough.

He’d chosen the site because the arrangement of the adjacent buildings made it possible to leapfrog to the top. He didn’t want to have to scale the walls with the Ferox on his heels but he would if it came to it. He was trusting in his imagination; there hadn’t been any way to test how well getting up this building was going to go in his mere human state.

He ran, and launched himself as high as he could. Safety lights were on in the structure, illuminating each floor but he had no idea what level he was going to be able reach as the wind rushed passed him.

He realized he was going to touch down between floors and used his hands to thrust his trajectory upward, pulling his feet up with the momentum and rolling onto the cement.