Just Some Kid's Mutant Pet Who: Rhiannon & Hanna What: Creature Feature When: Night Where: 206 N. 3rd Street, Las Vegas Rating: Violence, Language
Like any city, Las Vegas wasn’t monolithic. Pop culture painted it as casinos, Elvis impersonators, and wedding chapels, but it was more than the contents of its postcards. Where the strip had high-rise resorts, the arts district had festivals and block parties. Chinatown had world-famous chefs, but downtown had the best pub crawls. A variety of neighborhoods squeezed between the districts and stretched into other zip codes, some lavish, some in economical desperation.
Usually when Rhiannon found something to hunt, it was either in a disadvantaged neighborhood or downtown, where drunk twenty-somethings toddled off their group bikes to pee and got picked off in an alley. It was easy for Rhiannon to blend in on a hunt in Las Vegas. She could still dress and walk the part in the residential areas, just as she’d done in Detroit and Chicago. She was young enough to fit the part downtown, too. If she wore the right clothes, her weapons weren’t noticeable.
Tonight, the streets were damp from a quick August rain. Storms blew out as quickly as they came in the desert, and the dry earth leached the water from the pavement before anything could puddle. Rhiannon stood under an awning where she’d waited out the storm with a few smokers. She pulled up maps on her phone and sent her location to Cian, a message he’d come to recognize as ‘going hunting.’ Tucking her phone away, she turned down N. 3rd Street and resumed her walk.
Hanna had just managed to avoid the there-and-gone rain, her shoes leaving prints as she took up space just inside the store, looking at the sets of espresso cups for sale. It was just past eight, the sky still overcast. She made a note to come back when she wasn’t on recon, so she didn’t have to worry about carrying them home. She was here for something besides shopping right now.
Once the shower had stopped, she stepped back outside as the smokers broke up, headed towards Hogs & Heifers at a casual walk. Lots of foot traffic, and she’d seen more than one Uber on the street. If Garrett had gone to ground close to this> neighborhood, hiding in plain sight would not be an issue.
Still, it was good to get a feel for the environment. The smell of drying rain mixed with the aroma of still-warm asphalt. Even with summer winding down, Vegas was bustling.
An American flag brushed Rhiannon’s left shoulder as she passed the packed saloon and walked beneath the red and white ‘PAWN’ sign at the corner. The pawn shop was the last building before a break in the block. A service driveway led to loading docks and the back of a parking deck. It was dark and the traffic bollards cut off the area to through-traffic, making it an ideal place for people craving a moment of privacy for a call, a hit, a hook-up, or an opportunity to pee without paying.
She headed into it, using the golden rule of going anywhere you weren’t supposed to be: If you walked with authority, people assumed you had it.
Rhiannon slowed down once she was safely away from the main street. The first few vehicles she passed were empty cargo vans and box trucks. The farther she walked, the more the noise from the main street dimmed, and she only heard the whine of HVAC systems and the echoing horn of a car in the parking deck. The air smelled like the oversize dumpsters.
The taser in her jacket’s left pocket was a comforting weight, equalled only by the knowledge of the stun gun she carried in the other. Even though this was only scoping out the territory, the gradual deterioration of the area meant there could be other threats. Under the neon, the city had a layer of grime just like everywhere else.
Hanna edged into a pool of shadow, pretending to look for her phone as she counted the number of silent vehicles. Four, five, six...a seventh just at the end of the alley, which opened out on another street. Not that far from what she’d come to think of as her workshop. It smelled like the garbage hadn’t been picked up in a week. Maybe the sanitation guys were on strike, or threatening to go on strike.
The sound of breaking glass farther down the alley, beyond where the sodium glare of the streetlights could reach, had the hairs on the back of her neck lifting, and she could feel her shoulders pulling back. There were other things, things she hadn’t come across yet. If it was nothing, it could just be a lesson in not freezing up.
The glass had been an empty bottle thrown out of the garbage.
It missed the hunter by an inch when she crept by. The duck and resulting, “Shiit!” had startled the creature out the opposite side of the dumpster.
Rhiannon eased around the perimeter of a car and tried to get an idea of what was on the other side. It crouched low, but she could see flashes of it through the windows and hear its clicking feet on the asphalt. It was dark, leathery, reptilian. It hissed, and then a low, chittering noise like a gecko’s echoed off the side of the buildings.
“What the fuck are you?” she murmured. Okay. Maybe it was just an enormous lizard… Weird, but harmless. Her circuit took her nearer to the dumpster and the unmistakable smear of blood on the side of it. Maybe not.
Ch-ch-ch-ch-ch.....
There was a dirty brick wall behind the nearest dumpster, and Hanna registered the sound even as she saw the poor light reflecting on brown shards of glass. She edged closer, back aligned firmly with the solid surface before the car came into view. An older model, a Chrysler or Buick, big and blocky.
When the thing’s head became visible through the window, she deliberately took her hand out of her pocket. Scales, not fur. But anything that big was not harmless. She peered into the gloom, trying to get a better look and thinking seriously about investing in heavier firepower.
Rhiannon eased up to the window of the dumpster. With one eye on the huddling mass on the other side of the car, she darted a quick look inside. On the top of a mound of trash bags, she saw an upturned hand and forearm. Going as slow as she could, the hunter reached into the box and put her fingers around that wrist, thinking to check the pulse.
The whole limb slipped towards her.
“That’s not attached,” she whispered. “Fuck.”
Rhiannon pulled a gun from its holster, disengaged the safety, and quickened her steps around the car. Her muzzle was pointed to the ground. When she reached the same side of the car as the creature, it scurried around the front fender. That’s when Rhiannon saw the other woman with her back against the wall. “Look out!”
How many handbags would that make?
It was a nonsense thought, there and gone before Hanna could really register she’d had it, and the claws on the thing’s left...hand, she supposed, scraped across the metal fender of the car with a sound that made her teeth hurt. It hissed again when it saw her, its pupils huge in golden depths to make up for the lack of light.
She went for the taser, because she didn’t want to get close enough for the stun gun. Presuming the electrodes could pierce the scaled skin, though scales were better than plates. Her heart rate had sped up, but her hands were steady. Fifty thousand volts ought to be good for something.
The hiss turned into a shriek that echoed off of the close-together walls as she found her target, and the lizard-thing drew back and then up, the thin wires still attached. Bipedal. Of course.
Rhiannon flinched. Of all the things she thought the woman might do -- freeze, scream, run -- tasing it never crossed her mind. The pop-buzz of the weapon could be heard over the chiller on top of the building. And then it was up on two legs, as if coming to attention, and it was tall. She had seen a creature rise like that before. It was never a good sign.
“Oh great.”
Rhiannon maneuvered to the left to get the woman out of her line of sight and fired three times on a creature that now looked more humanoid than animal, but it was mid-pivot, and it was fast. The first bullet grazed its head. The second went into a spine sail, spraying yellow-green gunk. Rhiannon didn’t have time to notice where the third one went. It had gotten low and lurched at her, reptilian mass colliding with the hunter’s lower body. She stumbled backwards.
At five-eight without shoes, Hanna had to look up when the creature straightened its posture, and the taser clattered to the concrete, dangling by the electrodes. She would have had to wait for a recharge, anyway. The other brunette collided with her, and she skidded into the dumpster, banging her shoulder against the metal.
The lizard’s head darted in her direction, and greenish blood spattered on her jacket sleeve. At such close quarters, she couldn’t get to her other pocket, but her right hand shot out and caught the thing on the snout. A punch driven by adrenaline, and she took advantage of the momentary distraction to scuttle past the stranger and a little farther down the alley. Towards the vans.
She might have been running on the equivalent of a caffeine rush, but even she knew a makeshift weapon would help.
Rhiannon coughed. That impact knocked the wind out of her. At first, she was pinned between the dumpster, Hanna, and the lizard-man, but when Hanna squeezed out and punched it, it gave her wiggle room and a split-second of distraction. Rhiannon slipped out and gave the creature a hard shove. It teetered to the right. While it was off balance, she kicked its legs out. It crashed down on its side, mouth open, tongue flicking, a row of small but razor-sharp teeth on display.
She put her gun in its holster and went for the fixed-blade knife. “Alright, asshole. Let’s try this instead.” She dropped to the ground fast, trying to wrestle the creature in place long enough to stab it, on an angle, up from the bottom of its mouth into the roof, right between the eyes. Like a toothpick in a club sandwich. Claws shredded the outer layer of her clothes as Rhiannon struggled to stay upright.
Out of the three vans that were parked closest to the building, one was unlocked, and Hanna opened the back doors to find a jumbled collection of tools. Remodeling project, probably, fixing the place up to look less crappy. Saws, screwdrivers, hammers of various sizes. A longer handle caught her eye, close to the back, and she grabbed for it, the sound of snarls and the other woman’s voice loud in her ears.
Fire axe.
The blade scraped the concrete as Hanna pulled it free, dislodging several items out of the van and onto the pavement. Whoever’s vehicle this was, they didn’t stash their work implements correctly. Her eyes had adjusted to the bad light by now, and she headed back in the direction of the struggle. The thing was down, and she weighed up her chances of making a clean shot without hitting the other woman.
The axe blade bit into the lizard’s left thigh, and there was another high-pitched squeal as she tried to get out of reach of its clawed feet while hanging on to the handle.
An arc of yellow-green goop sprayed Rhiannon’s hair and neck. She looked up from the hack job she was doing with the knife to see an axe-wielding brunette beside her. “Holy shit...!” The hunter doubled down on getting the knife up into the creature’s head, but it was stubborn and kept thrashing left and right. A long tongue flickered around the blade as the tip breached the roof of its mouth. “Go for the stomach!” She used her weight to roll it onto its back and shift out of the way.
There was a wet noise as Hanna pulled the ax free, and when she swung it a second time she put her shoulders into it. The blade buried itself in the creature’s bread basket, and it let out a shriek that turned into a gurgle. More gunk splattered onto the concrete as it swayed drunkenly, then relaxed onto its back. It lay there, narrow chest heaving, and Hanna’s heartbeat had spiked so much she could feel the blood in her ears. “Christ almighty…”
Rhiannon pulled her leg off the creature’s chest and sat beside it on the ground. Her side felt like sandpaper rubbing in an open wound. She pulled her shirt up and saw that the claws had gotten through and left a couple of deep scratches. Great. She grabbed her knife and yanked it out of the dying thing’s mouth.
The woman was still holding the axe. Rhiannon wiped gunk off her forehead. “Where the hell did you come from?” A knee was braced against the asphalt as she got to her feet and cleaned off the knife.
“Chicago.” It escaped from her mouth on a sharp breath, and she wiped the back of her hand across her mouth as she let go of the axe handle with the other. Green blood was turning into a puddle, and she looked at a spatter of it on her left boot before deciding it would probably wash off. Probably. She hoped.The taser was half-concealed by the lizard’s dead body, wires in a tangle.
“Some eight year old must have flushed him down the crapper, and he just...got bigger. A lot bigger.”
Rhiannon pressed her lips together. Really? A child’s lizard went down the toilet and emerged over six feet tall with human features? The hunter schooled her facial features into something she hoped was reassuring. “I’m sure that’s what happened,” she agreed. “Or maybe he escaped the exotic animals exhibit at the zoo.” Meanwhile, this thing’s yellow-green blood was dripping out of her ear canal. Civilians killed her.
She put her knife in its sheath and rubbed her ear against her sleeve.
“It’s fine, you can go. I’ll call the authorities.” Rhiannon propped her phone between her clean ear and shoulder and reached for the axe, an offer for the woman to drop the weapon and walk away. Put it behind her.
“I’m...I’m fine.” Because now that the adrenaline was starting to wear off, Hanna could feel herself getting centered again. She didn’t know if she was ‘fine’ or not, but what she wasn’t was panicked. Not fully, not the way she had been the first time. The haft of the axe protruded from the lizard’s stomach like a sundial, and she pulled it free to drop it on the concrete with a clatter.
“I need that back.” She crouched down and started to remove the thoroughly tangled wires of the taser from the scaly flesh. Remembering what Brian had said in his text, that some climbed trees but some lost their grip. She wasn’t the girl in a horror movie who screamed and then passed out, and if she was going to do what she’d come here to do, she had to stand up. Her breathing gradually leveled out as she worked the electrodes loose.
“I really thought the shock would drop him. Worked the last time.”
“On what?” Rhiannon wondered.
She put up an index finger as a familiar voice picked up the line. “He-- Yes, it’s me again. No, I’m in Vegas. North 3rd Street, in the alley behind the country western bar. One body in a dumpster, one… I dunno, lizard-thing.” The hunter’s eyes took in the woman as she retrieved her taser. “Just me,” she lied. “Alright.”
Rhiannon disconnected the call.
“You know that wasn’t the cops, right?” Rhiannon put her phone in her hip pocket. The particulars of the ‘waste collection’ service used by a lot of hunters wouldn’t be shared. “Just so you know, we’ve got maybe five minutes before you’re seen,” she said. It depended on the location of the nearest van.
“Yeah, I got that. “ Hanna started to untangle the wires, the movement of her hands absent. She would have to mark this area as ‘questionable’ once she was back home. Have a beer and finish decompressing, maybe drink something stronger.
“You’re bleeding. You hurt bad?” Because she could see the cuts now, shallow wounds beneath the ripped fabric of the other woman’s shirt. Five minutes, maybe less.
Rhiannon shook her head. “If you can’t see bone or intestines, it’s not that bad.” She went over to the big dead thing, hooked her hands under its arms, and dragged it out of view behind the dumpster, in case anyone came outside to dump a bag of garbage. She eyed the other woman as she came back into the glow of light affixed to the side of the building. Maybe she was a new hunter. Not bloodline, but one who was getting into it after a traumatic experience. Fiance killed by a bloodthirsty stranded motorist, that kind of thing. That was usually how it went.
She searched the ground and her pockets to make sure she hadn’t dropped any identification. Phone, keys, wallet, weapons, all on board. “I don’t know where you got that axe, but if your prints are in the system, you might want to wipe whatever you touched. The people I called are good, but you never know.”
“Yeah, uh…” Her prints were not in the system, at least not with the police, but she didn’t want anybody tracking her back to her apartment. Hanna pulled a black bandanna out of her back pocket and picked up the axe, used the cloth to give the haft a good going over. There was a greenish smear on the blade, and she carried it back to the van, tossed it in with the other tools. Left everything else, but closed the door with the bandanna wrapped around her right hand. In this neighborhood, thefts were probably common.
She was entirely steady when she returned, stood in a bit of patchy light coming in from the street. The taser went back into her jacket pocket. She felt like she should say something, she just didn’t know what that might be. “Safe trip home, huh?”
Rhiannon gaped at her, thinking about the absurdity of the remark, but it was an absurd situation. They’d just been wrestling what amounted to an alligator-person. She burst into laughter. “Yeah… I’ll do that.” She faltered, wondered if she should engage the woman to figure out who the hell she was, but decided it might be smarter to let this one go. “You, too.”
The hunter headed out towards the parking garage.
Hanna rolled her eyes at herself, because good Christ, ‘safe trip home’? She watched the other woman out of sight, wondered if they’d cross paths again. If she was going to keep this up, probably.
She went the other way, back into the fuller light and towards the more crowded street. She’d have to be better prepared in the future. Much better.