The Law of Averages

Book 2: Chapter 99: Retreat

Cannibal soared skyward, carried unwillingly aloft by a tree trunk fired out of Dan’s improvised railgun. The trunk had shattered on Cannibal’s impossibly sturdy frame, but physics had done its grim work. Cannibal had no footing, no leverage, and no real chance to react. He still managed to rip the humungous projectile in half, even as it brought him above the tree line.

Abby’s turret followed Cannibal’s trajectory, thrumming as it pelted the tumbling serial killer with its viscous payload. It also completely spoiled Dan’s follow up plan, which was to teleport directly beside Cannibal and attempt to launch him into fucking orbit. The storm of bullets put paid to that idea. Dan couldn’t risk getting himself shot; he knew that what acted like paintballs to Cannibal could very well shred his own unenhanced body, and the turret was by no means perfectly accurate.

Instead, Dan blinked well below his falling foe. He looked up, lining up a shot. Cannibal spun wildly through the air, his body covered in black tar, almost completely devoid of senses. He still managed to dodge the log that Dan fired at him, some sixth sense telling the monster to twist out of the way. The vicious Natural hurled what was left of Dan’s first projectile like a spear, planting the broken log into the ground nearby with earthshaking force.

Dan blinked away on instinct, cursing. That had been an incredibly accurate throw, given its originator was blind, deaf, and airborne. Cannibal could not be underestimated; he was insanely lethal, and they didn’t have Gregoir around to tank. Dan absently ripped another tree into t-space as Cannibal’s distant form slammed back into the ground. Bird’s erupted from the woods, cawing in protest. Trees swayed and buckled, and a blood-curling howl echoed through the woods.

“I think he’s angry,” Dan said flatly. His veil snapped out in every direction, scouting for Cannibal’s return.

It found Coldwater guards.

They poured into the meadow, drawn to the wail of the siren. Nearly a dozen men, armed to the teeth and ready for combat. Dan almost slumped in relief as they moved forward in formation to stand between Abby and Cannibal’s last location. Three peeled away, moving to escort Abby to safety.

“We need to move, ma’am,” one said firmly, and Abby was in no mood to argue. They pulled her away, and she motioned Dan to follow.

“Right behind you, dear,” he said, eyes staring into the woods. His veil extended across the forest floor, searching for Cannibal. He found no traces, but the shaking canopy quickly told him why. Cannibal was leaping from branch to branch, and approaching swiftly.

Cannibal burst into the clearing, still covered in tar. He’d barely taken the time to clear his own vision, and his face was twisted into a feral snarl. The Natural seemed briefly caught off-guard by the forced arrayed against him, blurry eyes squinting for his previous prey. The senses he so relied upon were badly impaired, and his surprise cost him.

“Bring him down!” the Coldwater leader bellowed, and his men complied. Dan felt like he’d stepped into a thunderstorm as the clearing was filled with noise. The turret droned and the assault rifles thundered and Cannibal’s howls were drowned by black pitch. The Natural’s pale, lanky body vanished beneath a flood of sticky oil and he staggered upon landing, as his feet lost traction.

Whatever substance Anastasia cooked up was working tremendously well. It stank like death and was completely opaque, blocking out Cannibal’s sight and smell. It clung like taffy, but its outer surface was almost frictionless, obstructing his hearing and movements. Anastasia hadn’t slacked on countermeasures, and for a moment Dan thought Cannibal would be overwhelmed.

FEARTERRORPANICFLEE!

Something dark and oppressive ripped its way across the clearing. It struck Dan’s mind like a sledgehammer, sending him reeling. His heart screamed into overdrive, and his fight or flight reflex took over completely. He dropped into t-space—

And instantly felt relief. His Navigator drank his fears away, and he breathed in the cold not-air. Dan had felt Cannibal’s fear aura before, but it had never been so focused. It had just been a passive thing, draped across the motel like a heavy blanket. It had been like being stared at by a predator. Being stalked. Hunted. Dan hadn’t even been sure that Cannibal was aware of it.

There was no doubt about that now.

He returned to the clearing, mind fresh. He took a quick accounting of his allies: every Coldwater guard was staggered at the least. Two were out cold, curled into a fetal position. The commander had managed to stay upright, his gun weakly trained in Cannibal’s direction but unable to draw a bead. The beast himself unhinged his jaws and ran his razor teeth along his own limbs. Black tar was scraped clean and devoured in moments, and he turned his baleful attention on the disoriented soldiers.

The turret saved their lives, utterly oblivious to Cannibal’s predatory gaze. It dutifully peppered the serial killer with more tar rounds, forcing the man to dodge away. He darted in a circle, heading in Abby’s direction. Dan immediately headed that off with a log that split the forest in half. Cannibal was forced to backpedal or be catapulted off the property. He ducked behind a tree, letting the turret rip into the trunk as he vanished from view.

“I knew you smelled familiar!” the monster’s harsh, hungry voice cried out from places unseen. “You smell like a Summers!”

Dan’s veil found the creature scuttling along the forest floor at alarming speeds. He moved on all fours, all but hugging the ground. He moved like a spider, or maybe a lizard, with a wide, low stance and lightning fast movements. He was throwing his voice somehow; he was nowhere near where Dan had expected, but he was quickly closing the gap. The soldiers were only just regaining their senses, and the two on the ground were not stirring.

At least Cannibal had given up on Abby for now. Dan knew Cannibal could hear anything he would say, so he simply pointed in the man’s direction and sent another log screaming through the undergrowth. It won him a frustrated snarl, as Cannibal reoriented himself. Dan absently snapped up another tree, checking the reserves of his veil. Every piece of ammo he carried drained his capacity, and even with all of his recent growth he was running out of space. Three mid-sized tree trunks appeared to be his limit.

“You need a net,” Dan said, “or a really big chain.”

“We need to slow him down first,” came the commander’s grim reply.

He wasn’t wrong, but they couldn’t stall forever. There needed to be a step two. The mansion was next to the ocean. There was a port nearby, and some truly massive ships parked there. Also fishing trawlers and nets. It gave Dan all kinds of ideas.

Cannibal stopped moving and Dan’s veil danced over what was left of the man’s clothing, attempting to puzzle out the creature’s plan. Wood snapped and splintered, and another wave of TERRORPANICRUNAWAY washed over the clearing. Dan flickered in place, clearing his mind, and his veil watched as an entire tree was uprooted. Instinctively, he attempted to drag it into t-space, only to realize he didn’t have the capacity.

Cannibal heaved, and the tree soared lazily out of the forest towards the clearing. The soldiers were no less affected by Cannibal’s aura, but were far more prepared. They kept their focus and unleashed their upgrades at the incoming projectile. The clearing misted over as the humidity tripled in a matter of moments. Each soldier moved in uniform, working together to empower their abilities. Water sprang into existence, forming a sharp crescent that slammed against the flying tree and exploded. There was a brief shower of rain, bark, and branches, and Cannibal was upon them once more.

The fog condensed into a stream as the commander thrust a fist at the charging predator. Each of his conscious subordinates echoed the motion, giving strength to the attack, but they faced a true Natural with decades of power growth. The wave crashed against Cannibal, not even breaking his stride. The turret whined and more tar bullets sprayed across the Natural’s pale frame. He held out a hand over his face, staying low the ground as he was peppered. He skittered forward on three limbs, always keeping one between himself and the turret. His profile was so low and quick that he managed to intercept most of the fire with a single forearm.

Cannibal closed the distance in moments and the turret stopped shooting, apparently programmed to avoid friendly fire. One soldier was immediately disemboweled, thrown aside with a careless swat from the monstrous predator. Another was leapt on, his throat unceremoniously torn out as Cannibal rode him to the ground. The remaining soldiers dumped automatic fire into the serial killer, but he dragged the soldier’s dying form between himself and the dangerous ammunition. His advance was stopped for all of a single second.

Dan used that second to punt him away with a log from below. His veil pooled beneath the stationary Cannibal and released its payload. Cannibal seemed to expect it, twisting to the side the very instant the log appeared, but it was impossible to dodge something that close and that large. Cannibal was clipped with enough force to bring down a building. He was flung sideways and upwards, howling curses from blood-soaked jaws all the while.

The commander’s radio crackled, “Primary is secure! I repeat, primary is secure!”

“Fall back!” the commander ordered immediately. The soldiers didn’t hide their eagerness at the order. They retreated at a dead run, barely taking the time to drag along their insensate comrades, and leaving the dead behind entirely. They didn’t spare a word of thanks for Dan as they sprinted for the mansion.

Well. Fair enough. He could teleport.

Cannibal’s form dipped below the canopy, and the ground quavered at the impact. He wouldn’t be happy to be denied his prey. He’d be back, and they’d be out of luck. Abby was inside, but not safe. Dan didn’t believe that the Summers’ mansion, for all its vaunted defenses, could hold out against a truly determined Cannibal. He had minutes at most to figure out something capable of handling an enraged nigh-immortal monster.

Dan willed his way back to the mansion and its small garrison of well-armed mercenaries. He hoped they had a really good plan.