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The Samhain Gate

8/3/2009

The dragons did not immediately attack.

Iris straightened up from the crouch she’d immediately shrunk into. The room was absolutely dark, but she couldn’t hear anything moving. With some trepidation, she hit the switch on the flashlight. If those things had forgotten about her, the light would certainly remind them. She panned the light around the edge of the ceiling. The dragons were once again roosted on the molding. They move irritably to avoid the light as she panned it around the room, but none of them bothered to fly down and do anything about it. Iris tried to control her breathing. As long as they were up there, they weren’t attacking her. The problem was that she couldn’t kill them either.

Stupid Mina, why did she have to go and get herself hurt? With two people working the lights they might be able to herd them back into a single spot. Iris felt a pang of guilt; Mina wouldn’t have gotten hurt if she hadn’t gotten mixed up in this insanity. She should have knocked the other woman out and forced her to go somewhere safe. The relief at having someone, anyone else to help her had overridden her concern for Mina’s safety.

Iris shook her head. This wasn’t the time for internal monologues or philosophical debates. She needed to get these things within range so she could kill them. She tried the flashlight again, focusing on a single section of the ceiling. The dragons moved away from the light, but without another light they would just go around and around the ceiling.

Turning her attention away from the ceiling—the dragons didn’t seem very interested in her—Iris looked around the rest of the room, looking for anything else that might be useful. The bag of Molotov cocktails was still where Mina had dropped it. Burning down the place might not be the best option, but it would probably be effective. The alcohol didn’t produce much light, but there was plenty of other flammable stuff in the room. The dragons were within reach of her axes now, but they were sticking close to the wall, not exposing their vulnerable bellies. If she could get them moving and get them distracted enough so they weren’t attacking her, she might be able to get some good throws in. It wasn’t a fantastic plan, but it was the only one she had.

She lit up the first bottle, the flame wavering with her breath. Iris realized she was breathing hard, her stomach knotted up. This was a stupid idea. She was going to get herself killed. Maybe she was going to get Mina or someone else killed. She let the flashlight hang from her shoulder and pulled an axe from her ear. It might be a stupid idea, but it was all she had. Distantly, she watched the bottle leap from her hand towards the ceiling. As it left her hand Iris’ mind snapped into focus. It was done, now she had to make it work. She snatched up another bottle and lit the fuse, throwing it under a tipped over screen. There was some sort of rotted-looking cobwebbly decoration hanging from the screen, it caught fire immediately. It was across the room, but Iris could feel the heat as the flames grew. They were bright orange, blinding her as she turned back to pile to grab another bottle. There were only four left. She needed to make them count.

The dragons were starting to react. The first bottle made them move as it hit the wall, and they were staying away from the other flames. There was still plenty of empty dark wall for them to land on. Iris picked another screen that looked as though it might burn and chunked the flaming bottle. She grabbed another bottle; when she looked back the screen was also burning, illuminating the other corner of the room. Only three more bottles. The dragons were agitated now, flying around the ceiling. Two more bottles and the separate fires began to converge, creating a solid wall of flame around Iris. The high ceiling of the ballroom funneled the smoke upwards, giving her space to breath. She glanced behind her; making sure the path to the door was still open. One bottle left and a fire that was way beyond stopping. The fire alarm began to go off. Amid the cacophony of the shrieking alarm and the sound of burning, snapping material, the sprinkler system began dousing the room and everything in it. Iris frowned; this was something she hadn’t planned on. She needed to act fast, before the sprinklers put out the fire.

The dragons didn’t seem to mind the water, but they were still flying around, trying to avoid the light and the flames. Iris set down the last bottle under a table, trying to keep the fuse dry, and pulled down her second axe. Time to go to work.

As long as the dragons were flying above her they were exposing their bellies. Taking careful aim, Iris threw her axe at the first one she saw. It saw the axe coming at the last minute and tried to move out of the way. The tip of the blade hooked the thin scales on the animal and tore it open as the weapon circled back into Iris’ hand. A mess of innards dropped out of the wound. The dragon shrieked, flapped a couple more times and dropped like a brick. A faint glimmer in the firelight made Iris investigate the corpse. It was half in the fire and the dragon was still jerking a little. Ignoring the movements Iris pulled three small stones from the mess and shoved them into her bag.

She turned. With the fire behind her the dragons wouldn’t attack, but it was scorching her exposed back and arms. She couldn’t stand there for long. Looking around the room, Iris realized the only space still cleared was the path to the door. The dragons clustered into the dark, safe space. She narrowed her eyes at them. They were between her and her way out. Not smart. They were clustered on the ground, not exposing their vulnerable spots. She needed to make them move.

The last Molotov cocktail was still under the table. Putting one axe back in her ear, Iris snatched it up and lit it using the flames behind her. The dragons scattered as it hit the floor in front of the door. There was no space for them to land anymore. Iris was standing in the only clear area. They ignored her in their frantic efforts to get away from the flames and Iris was able to pick them off, first in the air, then simply swinging at them as they came in close to her to land. They weren’t interested in her. They didn’t seem to notice she was there. Their only focus was getting out of the light and heat that was all around them.

After a few minutes Iris realized that there were no more dragons flying around and there was a heap of bodies around her, higher than her ankles. She knew she needed to get out of here. Despite the sprinklers, the fires were still burning and the air was getting thick with smoke. She took a moment to pick through the bodies, looking for the stones that some of them had in their gut. She wasn’t leaving here without her trophies.

Iris straightened up after a few minutes and almost fell back over. The smoke was too thick to breathe through, and the night’s exertions were finally taking their toll. Every muscle in her body was shutting down. The door was blocked by a wall of flame. The doors themselves were metal and Iris hoped the fire wouldn’t spread to the rest of the building. Over the hideous noise of the fire alarm she thought she could hear sirens. Maybe the fire department would get here before it burned down the rest of the building.

She needed to get through to the doors. If she ran she could probably make it. Iris didn’t think she had enough energy left to run. She looked at the floor; the fire was encroaching on her feet, but not on the fresh corpses of the dragons. She picked one up by the neck and threw it into the fire. With a wet sizzle the fire under it died out. Not bothering to question her good luck, or the weirdness of her situation, Iris tossed the rest of the bodies until there was a path towards the door. There were still a few feet from the last body to the door, but there wasn’t anything else she could do. Lurching towards the door, sliding on the bodies under her feet, Iris leaped the last few feet, slammed into the door and tumbled into the next room. She managed to crawl back towards the door and kick it shut.

For a moment Iris couldn’t do anything but lie on the floor and stare at the ceiling. The air felt deliciously cool after the inferno in the other room. She forced herself to her hands and knees. Mina wasn’t where Iris had left her. She hoped the other woman had finally taken her advice and gotten someplace safe. Iris needed to do the same. There was smoke seeping through the doors and she had no idea if the fire was contained or if firemen would get there in time. She tried to force herself to her feet, but couldn’t. She began crawling towards the chairs. She needed to get to the kitchen and lock herself in somewhere. There was a sea of bodies between here and there and Iris had no interest is crawling through them on her hands and knees. She put her axes back in her ears and used the chair to pull herself up.

Okay, she could do this. It wasn’t far. Iris managed to stagger out of the student center and into the cafeteria. The tables gave her enough support to get into the kitchen.

“Mina?” Her voice was weak, parched from the smoke. Iris didn’t bother calling out again. As long as she’d managed to stop the bleeding, Mina would be fine. There was a mopping station in the corner, with a drain and a hose. The thought of getting the blood and grit off her skin was too much to resist. Iris managed to drag herself to the corner and turn on the water. She pulled off her helmet, sized it down and put it away, and lay under the spray. The water cut channels through the filth on her skin. She wasn’t even able to turn the water off before oblivion claimed her.

* * *

Someone shaking her awake made Iris lash out with an axe that wasn’t in her hand. She connected with the side of someone’s face.

“Dammit lady!”

Iris forced her gummed eyes open. A young man in an police uniform was squatting next to her, a hand to his face.

Iris shook her head, trying to wake up. Her entire body throbbed with the soreness she’d come to expect. Someone had turned off the water, but Iris was still lying in a puddle. Her skin was soaked and clammy.

“Sorry.” Her throat was raw from the smoke.

“It’s all right. You have a heck of a backswing. Can you stand up?”

“I hope so. What the hell happened?”

“We’re trying to find out. Come with me, Miss. We have a trauma center set up. We’ll look after you.”

Iris took the outstretched hand and leaned on the young man gratefully. She hated the way her body betrayed her after using the Aesir-given powers. The fact that she’d been sleeping crumpled up on the floor probably hadn’t done her any good, either. Her stomach rumbled.

“Is there any food? I’m starving.”

“There’s a center set up for survivors. We’ll get you checked out and interviewed then you can get something to eat.”

They didn’t have far to go. There was a flurry of activity in the cafeteria, with EMT’s, doctors, nurses, and police along with more survivors than Iris had expected. She wondered what they’d done with the bodies. Someone was even making use of the kitchen. The smell of coffee and bacon was almost more than she could stand.

“Here, sit here.” He pulled out a chair for her, “Someone will be along in a minute to check you out.” Iris could see him eyeing the gashes on her arms, and she put a hand to her face. There was a cut below one eye. It burned, but the bleeding had stopped. Iris had never thought of herself as particularly pretty, but it those things had disfigured her she was going to—to. There actually wasn’t much she could do at this point, considering she’d already killed them all. Still, she wished someone had a mirror so she could see how bad the damage was.

“Hi,” Iris turned to see a middle-aged woman dressed in blue scrubs with severely tied-back hair sitting down next to her, “I’m Amy. Let’s get you cleaned up.”

She opened up a kit and began cleaning up Iris’ arms and wrapping them in gauze.

“Are you hurt anywhere else?”

Iris shook her head, “No. I got lucky.”

“You certainly did. You’re not even bleeding anymore. That’s odd. Everyone else has been having a terrible time getting the bleeding to stop.”

“What happened?” Iris wanted to know the official version so she could come up with a story to match it.

“I’m not allowed to say.” Amy’s eyes flicked nervously around the room and for the first time Iris noticed the men in gray suits intermingled with the police and medics. “As soon as I’ve got you cleaned up they’ll want to interview you.” She turned her attention back to Iris’ wounds. She carefully cleaned the scratch under Iris’ eye.

“You’re very lucky. You won’t even need stitches. Do you have any allergies?”

“No. How bad is it?”

“Not bad. You’ll have a scar, but nothing worse than a beauty mark.” She bandaged it and turned back to her kit. “I’m going to give you a broad-spectrum antibiotic and you should be all fixed up. Are you sure you’re not hurt anywhere else? No broken bones?”

“I’m sure.”

Amy tapped the syringe, “Give me your arm.” She slid the needle into Iris’ arm with practiced ease, “You might want to think about buying some lottery tickets.”

“Why’s that?” She rubbed her arm where the needle had gone in.

“Out of everyone I’ve seen today, you’re the one in the best shape. I’d call that lucky.” She stood up, “Wait here and they’ll be along to interview you.”

Iris thanked her and leaned back in the chair. It wasn’t a comfortable chair and it didn’t help her sore muscles. She closed her eyes and tried to think of a convincing story.

“Miss?”

Iris forced her eyes open and looked at the suited man in front of her, “If you’ll come with me?”

Her body didn’t want to cooperate, but Iris managed to walk the distance to a screened-off area. The chairs in there weren’t any more comfortable.

The man sat down across from her and pulled out a recorder, “I just need to ask you a few questions.”

Iris had to smile; the situation was oddly reminiscent to when she’d first met Jason. This government bozo wasn’t nearly so cute, however, and she wasn’t in a mood to oblige.

“Look, I’m really hungry. I’ve had sort of a crappy night. Can I get some food first?”

“This won’t take long. Humor me. Your name?”

“Iris Morgan.”

“Your address and phone number?” She sighed, but gave over the information. “Are you a student here?”

“No.”

“What were you doing on campus?”

“There was a party. A friend of mine invited me.” Iris sat up, “Mina, do you know if she’s all right?”

“Who?”

“Mina Lawson. She’s about my height, reddish hair, wearing a skimpy cat costume. We…got separated.”

“Wait. I’ll check on it.” He stood up and stepped out from the screen, then returned a few minutes later and sat back down.

“She’s been sent to the hospital. She lost a lot of blood, but was in stable condition.”

Iris let her breath out; at least Mina was alive.

“I’ll give you the number to the hospital when we’re done here.” Iris nodded; he was buying her cooperation and she knew it.

“Good. Now, please tell me, in your own words, what happened last night.”

“Well,” Iris bit her lip, trying to think of a story that might match what other people were saying. “Everything was going fine, when this guy ran out of the haunted house screaming. He was bleeding all over the place. Everyone thought it was a joke.”

“But it wasn’t?”

“No. Someone called the police, and the lights went out. I’m not sure why. Some woman went to get a flashlight and I went with her.”

“Where did she go?”

“Some office. I’m not exactly sure. I don’t know my way around this campus. Something attacked her. It flew, but I didn’t get a good look at it.” Iris tried to put some horror in her voice, “It killed her.”

“What did you do?”

“I ran. I ran back to the rest of the group.” She bowed her head, hiding her jaded eyes. It was horrific, but Iris had seen too much death lately to elicit the same reaction as an ordinary person would.

“Everyone was dead. And there were more of those things. They attacked me. I ran. I locked myself in the kitchen and stayed there until the police found me.”

“That’s all?” He sounded disappointed. Iris guessed her story was close enough to everyone else’s to pass inspection.

“That’s all.”

“Thank you.” He pulled out a card and jotted down a number on the back, “That’s the number to the hospital your friend is at. The one on the front is mine. Give me a call if you remember anything else. If we need to talk to you again we’ll be in touch. If anyone tries to stop you going out show them the card so they’ll know you’ve been interviewed.”

Iris hobbled back out into the main room and stopped, looking around at the scene. At first glance it looked chaotic, but there was order. Everything was being done quickly and efficiently. With a lurch in her stomach, Iris realized she was looking for Jason. She really expected to see him, wearing his hat, sitting and drinking coffee somewhere. The thought that he might not be here, that he might be back in that room with the rest of the bodies made her sick to her stomach. The food didn’t smell good anymore and Iris couldn’t stand to be in this building any longer. She wanted to go home, take a proper shower and spend the next hour wondering if it was proper to call a recent ex-boyfriend after a life-threatening experience. She knew that the police or EMT’s could probably tell her if he was alive or not, but Iris didn’t think she was ready to know. She just wanted to go home and put herself together before facing any more shocks.

The whole building was cordoned off, with a crowd of onlookers surrounding the barricades. A reporter tried to stop her as she left, but Iris wasn’t in the mood; she flipped the woman the bird without stopping.

It took all of Iris’ remaining energy to drag herself up the stairs to her apartment. She stopped short at the figure standing in front of her door, “You.”

“Iris, you’re alive.”

She loved the way her name sounded when he said it. He’d lost his hat and there were a couple of bloody tears in his shirt, but to Iris he was the best looking man she’d ever seen.

“Jason, what are you doing here?”

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