Nadya’s Nights: Road to Vengeance
Night One: A Hard Night’s Work
Chapter Two: Alley Encounter
by Indy McDaniel
Copyright © 2009 Indy McDaniel
The blonde Russian continued down the street, smoking her cigarette. The sound of her heavy boots against the brick sidewalk created an echo off the old buildings she passed. Her mind wandered as she walked, turning to the people that had been killed at the botched exchange. She’d known most of them for quite a while before Vlad had let her join up with the crew.
Wolfgang, the leader of the crew, had been in his fifties, but you couldn’t tell it from looking at him. He’d shown Nadya how to tell the difference between different grades of drugs. Not that she ever touched the stuff for personal use and it definitely wasn’t in her job description to make pick ups. Still, it was a nice skill to have in her toolbox.
For being a career criminal, Wolfgang had actually been a pretty nice guy once you got to know him. The others were more or less equally amicable. There were the twins, Roderick and Constantine. Each of them was lanky with greasy black hair and impossible to tell apart just by looking at them. Then, inevitably, Constantine would start spewing out sex jokes and Roderick would do his best to not be noticed.
Ivana – another Russian woman – rounded out the crew. She’d been older than Nadya. In her early thirties. Her red hair had been long and pulled back into a tightly knit braid that traveled down her back. Her voice had a low rasp due to the scar on her neck where her throat had been cut years earlier. Nadya had preferred her dry wit to Constantine’s humor. Ivana had been one of the few people that could actually draw a laugh from her.
Nadya didn’t notice the silent tendril slithering out from the dark, shadowy alleyway she was passing by. The tentacle sensed the movement of the girl’s legs and struck out with blinding speed, lassoing one of her ankles and yanking back. Nadya was caught off guard and before she knew it, was flying through the air. What remained of her cigarette flew from her lips. She slammed down onto the hard ground moments later and felt another sharp tug on her ankle, dragging her a couple more feet into the darkness.
Fear tried to force its way into Nadya’s mind but she forced it right back down. Looking down the length of her body, all she could make out was a tentacle latched around her foot and some mass in the darkness, writhing and coiling. Killing people for Vladimir Belikov, she’d run into more than a few supernatural beings.
Vampires, werewolves, warlocks… they all had their weaknesses. But she’d never come across something like this before. Pulling her leather jacket up, she grasped the handle of the pistol and pulled it free, suddenly thankful for the altercation she’d gotten into in the pub earlier. She aimed at the center of the coiling mass at the back of the alley and fired twice.
A high-pitched, inhuman cry of pain responded, making Nadya’s ears ring. The tentacle coiled around her ankle didn’t loosen and she was tugged further into the alley. Deciding she didn’t want to find out how many bullets it would take to kill this enigmatic monstrosity, and also that she most definitely did not want an up-close look at it, she tilted the aim of the weapon downwards, aiming just above her foot.
Firing the gun a third time, Nadya heard the monster cry out again and this time her foot came away. The tentacle was still wrapped tightly around her, twitching slightly, but a few inches below that, it ended, leaking viscous black fluid. Nadya scrambled to her feet and ran towards the alley’s exit.
She’d just about made it when another tentacle looped around her neck and pulled tight. Nadya felt her airflow choked off as she was yanked backwards. Her ass hit the ground hard, sending a shock of pain running up her spine. She let out a strangled yelp that was cut off completely as the tentacle pulled her deeper into the alley.
Tilting her head back, Nadya could see the thing – whatever it was – drawing closer. Reaching up, she tried to untangle the loop of tentacle from her neck. The surface was slick with a sticky substance that only helped it to keep hold of her. “Fuck your mother!” she choked out in Russian.
The creature, which was now only a few feet away, responded as its coils of tendrils parted and exposed a wide, round mouth. Rows of ivory, shark-like teeth glistened in the moonlight as the thing let out a roar. Flecks of spittle landed against Nadya’s face. She grimaced in disgust and continued to try to get free.
An explosion of fire transformed night into day in the alleyway. Nadya got a brief look at the screaming monster before the tentacle around her throat retracted and she rolled away from the flaming creature. Jumping to her feet, she had her gun leveled on the thing again, watching as it burned. She seriously doubted – whatever the fuck the thing was – that it had a tendency to spontaneously combust just before eating its dinner.
Her suspicions were confirmed as a Molotov cocktail rained down from above, nailing the creature and spraying flaming alcohol all over its writhing form. Looking up, Nadya caught sight of a silhouetted figure standing on the rooftop above.
“Hey!” she yelled in accented English up at the figure.
The creature let out a bellow and Nadya turned back to it in time to dodge a flaming tentacle shooting out at her. Shifting to the right, the tentacle flew past her and landed limply on the ground before pulling back fast. She kept her eye on the thing as it began to pull in on itself, becoming smaller and smaller until it blanked out with a final puff of sulfuric-scented smoke.
Nadya looked back to the rooftop and found that her savior was gone.
Turning, she headed back out of the alley, sliding the gun back into her waistband. What the hell had the thing been? Just some random beastie out looking for a snack? And who the hell wandered around on London rooftops carrying Molotov cocktails?
Lighting up a fresh smoke, Nadya continued on her way. Now she definitely wanted something to drink.
Finding a pub she hadn’t actually caused a scene in, Nadya slipped in and headed for the bathroom. Checking herself in the mirror, she washed off the slime left on her neck by the tendril, splashed some water on her face and then headed back out. Sliding onto one of the vacant stools at the bar, she ordered a pint and some crisps. It wasn’t a proper dinner, but it’d do.
Now she just had to wait for Lonestar’s call and hope that no chumps wanted to pick a fight.
Easier said than done.
