Adapt (I)
Chapter Forty Nine

SCARLET

Two shots ring out. Trent and I slam into the wall and drop to the ground instinctually. My dagger, that I had left on the ground in the room with the girls, now appears in my hand.

“They found him.” Trent says. I don’t point out how obvious that is. Instead, I butt-shuffle my way to the corner to peer down the hallway.

Four therians are hovering around the entry to the room. The glow of their eyes illuminates the darkened space. One of them has green eyes, two have yellow, and one white. I watch them, gauging their strengths and trying to figure out what sort each of them are. I feel Trent trying to press around to see as well. I shove him back. I am already putting our position at risk. I don’t need Trent’s head giving us away.

Other than with Boe, I have never taken down more than two Therians at a time. Granted, I have Trent with me, but I have yet to really see if he is a help or a hinderance. I hope that I am right, and that he is going to be valuable, but I also hope that my focus won’t be split trying to protect him.

Then I have a plan. I try my best to mouth it to Trent. He seems to catch the majority of it, and nods. We stand, backs still to the wall. Trent inches in front of me, then together we jump out from our cover.

Trent fires off four quick rounds. For a fraction of a second, I am impressed with Trent’s marksmanship. He hits one of them in the chest, sending it straight to the ground. He hits another in the head. the last two bullets find their marks on a shoulder and a thigh. Not as good as the first two shots, but I will take it. I duck out from behind Trent and lunge at the one with the shot leg. His glowing yellow eyes pin me, and I see the claws growing from his fingertips. His pupils turn to cat-like slits, and I realize that I am dealing with some sort of feline therian. That suits me just fine. I don’t bother with pleasantries. Instead, I lead with my dagger, aiming for his throat. He grabs at my neck, claws nicking my skin. I ram my knee up into his thigh, where he had been shot. The therian gives a guttural groan of pain, giving me just enough time drive my dagger into his throat. The yellow glow fades with his growl as I whirl around, ready for the next one.

By the time I turn around, the green-eyed therian with a shot in his shoulder, is upon me. He has his fist pulled back, lining up for a punch. Without much thought, I slam my foot down on his, breaking his focus. He still throws his punch, but it no longer has much force. I twist and push my elbow into his gut, sending him off balance. He is forced to steady himself from his inevitable fall. I use that time to knock one of his feet out from under him, sending him back, onto the floor. Without any more ceremony, I fall on the therian, driving my dagger into his chest.

My breath comes hard as I watch the light drain from his eyes. The lime green irises shrink down to reveal aqua blue eyes. For a moment I am mesmerized by the change.

“Scarlet.” Trent scolds. I look up and he gestures sharply, with his gun pointed to the ground, telling me that I need to hurry up.

I get up, pulling my dagger out of the chest of the therian, ignoring the pang of guilt balling in my gut. I wipe the blade off on my pants then get behind Trent.

We enter. The sound of struggle rings out in the room, amplified by the concrete floors and stainless-steel furnishings. From behind Trent, I can see that Boe is defending the girls from four therians. When one with auburn hair charges at him, I surge forward only to have Trent’s arm block me. I shoot him a furious glare, but the expression on Trent’s face tells me keep quiet and follow him. I look back over to Boe, who uses a push kick to turn the therians momentum against him, sending the therian flying into one of the stainless-steel tables. The tables legs screech on the concrete floor, making my teeth ache.

Trent moves forward, using the sound as cover. I realize that Trent is trying to use the small advantage of surprise. I follow him as we head in a direction that will put us adjected to Boe.

Another one of them takes his turn with Boe, trying for a punch instead of lunge. Boe grabs the therian by the arm, then shifts and twists. Boe now has the therian’s arm pinned behind him, using him as a shield. The therian spits a slew of insults at Boe in a voice that is rough with pain. Boe smiles.

The therian that Boe had sent into the benches comes back for another round. His features morph and canine characteristics form. His ears point and his mouth fills with sharp teeth. Boe throws the therian in his arms at the canine. They both hurtle across the room, knocking over more benches and shelves.

The next therian smiles at Boe. If the snarling teeth dog man had me worried, the therian approaching Boe now has me scared. His smile reveals coned teeth. His skin shudders and shimmers as the smooth human skin turns to raised lumps and takes on a green-brown hue.

I clamp my jaw shut to stop myself from gasping. I had only seen one therian like this before. Her adaption would be best described as an alligator. She was damn near impossible to kill, and her jaw had such bone crushing strength that I had been put out of commission for more than a week to heal. I had only narrowly escaped victorious. My fist tightens around the hilt of my dagger, the need to help Boe urging my feet toward the fight.

Trent pulls me down to the ground. I give him another rueful glare as we crouch behind one the of the shelves. Can’t he see that Boe needs our help? I hadn’t questioned him before, recognizing the advantage of surprise, but now Boe needs our help. I don’t doubt Boe’s prowess as a fighter, but if I can stop him from getting hurt, shouldn’t I try?

As if to punctuate my point, I hear the unmistakable whooshing sound of all of air being knocked from Boe’s lungs. I know it is his because I have winded him in training before. I look over to see two therians attacking him from both sides. Worry and anger boils in my body as I watch him take blow after blow. But it doesn’t take long for me to see that for every blow Boe takes, he gives it back three-fold. His elbows drive into their throats. The tip of his blade bites deeply into their flesh. Inside, I am torn by my need to go and protect him and my awe of watching him fight uninhibitedly. His expression is set in steely determination as he blocks the majority of their blows, transitioning into counter blows as if it is some kind of deadly dance. The violent and sharp movements have an unexpected grace that melts into my core, in the same way that molten lava cuts paths in the ground.

Then a gunshot deafens me. I turn to see Trent standing over the fourth therian I had not been keeping an eye on. sᴇaʀᴄh thᴇ (ꜰind)ɴʘvel.nᴇt website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

The two therians fighting Boe stop to look at what Trent has just done, which is put a bullet through the head of their colleague. Boe uses this advantage to bury his dagger into the dog-therian’s throat. The glowing blue eyes fade. Boe withdraws the dagger and before the body hits the floor, he turns to the reptilian therian behind him. Unfortunately, Boe isn’t quick enough. The lumbering, green scaled man throws a power punch into Boe’s gut, sending Boe into the tiled wall. Before Boe can take in a breath, the therian begins to throw his fists into Boe’s face.

In a few bounds I cross the distance and throw a kick into the back of the therian’s knees. He wanes, but finishes his attack on Boe, making Boe slump to the floor. The monster turns his now glowing yellow eyes on me, giving me a half smile. He throws a few punches at me. I dodge and block, stepping back as he gains on me. The blows come so fast I have no time to retaliate. No matter, Trent had trained me for the exact scenario. In the next set of blows, I duck and weave, getting up into the Therian’s personal space. Trent had taught me about the rings of combat. This therian has clearly trained for throwing punches to keep someone at a distance. I had no such aversion to getting up close and personal. Knowing that my opponent wouldn’t take kindly to my closeness, I use this to my advantage. I ram my elbow into his throat, my knee into his crotch, then use my free hand to bury my dagger into his chest.

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