Blind Rage - Chapter 5

Saturday, July 19, 1997, 7:52 pm

San Antonio, Texas

Mark Grissom stepped onto the elevator, and the four agents who got on with him looked down to avoid his gaze. With everyone swamped and closing cases unsolved, most had to assume that the state supervisor was coming in to crack some heads.

But all Mark really needed was to charm one maverick supervisor and get his rogue agents under control. Mark had plenty of options at his disposal, but unlike the other elites, he preferred to use his natural talents instead of brute strength or political power.

The doors of the elevator clunked shut, and Mark smiled at the tune on the speakers, an instrumental version of Soft Cell’s Tainted Love.

He laughed, causing an agent to look up. Pointing to the speaker, he said, “It’s a good song. Fitting.”

The agent shook his head. “Sorry?”

Mark sang, “Sometimes I feel I’ve got to...”

When he paused, the agent grinned and nodded, getting the joke. “Run away.”

Mark started to hum the tune, and then everyone in the car was humming too. The speed of the elevator car crawled to a snail’s pace, and the speaker’s volume rose.

Looking back on the brief interlude, each agent would later tell themselves that they hummed the song to suck up to the boss. They wouldn’t notice the slowness of the ride, nor the odd way that the music had caused them to start swaying when it got louder.

But the truth was, Mark had cast a charm spell, compelling the agents into humming with the music. He didn’t know many magic spells, but the few he did know were useful for persuading people to see things his way.

Unfortunately, the spells he knew all required humming or singing. Mark had always felt awkward singing, but he had learned that under the right circumstances, and with the right songs, he could get a whole room of people humming and swaying in time with him.

Which was interesting, but not really useful by itself. But the other fascinating part of the spell was, once people were humming and singing, they passed a raw magical energy to him, and then he could feed that energy back into his charm spells. So if he told a room full of people to jump, they would laugh, and then ask how high.

Encouraged by the simple charm, the agents hummed, sending energy to Mark. He gathered the small individual charges in preparation for his next spell. The charm wouldn’t need much energy, but if Wagner proved to be uncooperative, Mark wanted some extra energy stored up. Then he could cast a charm on Wagner without having to hum first.

After all, it was always good to have a backup plan.

***

Saturday, 8:01 pm

Despite Mark’s assurance, Wagner’s nerves were shot when the district supervisor walked into his office. He was in his early fifties, but Mark looked to be closer to his late thirties. His short brown crest of hair was mixed randomly with grey strands, and there were faint creases around his dark hazel eyes.

Mark was also an imposing looking man, built tall and stocky. But it was not his size that made him intimidating to Wagner.

Only six months before, Wagner’s office had been bugged by moles working in the branch office. Wagner had been tipped off about the first bug, allowing him to flush a mole out of hiding, Derrick Kurtz.

But Derrick had said that he was a low-level cog just before he’d been shot by another agent. So Wagner had a hunch that there was another bug listening to him. For his own safety, he had to act like he didn’t know it.

In the following months Wagner had become suspicious of his superiors, and Mark was one of his prime suspects. Mark signed off on every report sent to his office, and he was one of the few people to ask for updates on the statuses of Gavin and Stephanie. Mark knew who the agents were watching, but he never spoke about Jobe or Wendy.

Still Wagner suspected that he was meant to keep the vigilantes quiet, and his mistake had been in letting Gavin and the berserker head out on an assignment.

Putting on a strained smile, Wagner rose from his desk and waved to a seat. “Can I get you anything?”

“No, I ate on the flight here.” Mark unbuttoned his tailored grey jacket and sat down. He folded his hands in his lap, offering Wagner a sympathetic look. “I’m sure you’re busy. Every branch office is, and has been for the last two years now. It’s a pandemic out there, and we don’t have anything to do with it.”

Wagner frowned. “We?”

Mark’s face tensed in a look of disapproval. “Please, don’t play stupid, Wagner. Let’s start this relationship off on the right foot, all right?”

Wagner nodded. “All right, so Damien isn’t involved in most of these murders.”

Mark relaxed, sitting back in his seat. “No, but we can’t release the information that we have on the real perpetrators. I wonder, can you guess who they are?”

“Daemons,” Wagner said.

“Very good,” Mark said. “We won’t need to dance around each other or play word games. You’ve been trying in vain to keep Jobe and Wendy’s locations secret. We’ve let that slide. However, the call you received this afternoon threw us for a loop. That person on the phone wasn’t Jobe, so I wonder who else you’re hiding.”

“That was Jobe,” Wagner said. “It’s just a different part of his mind.”

“The berserker?” Mark asked. He smiled when Wagner stiffened in his seat. “I told you to relax. I’m here to propose a deal, and I think you’re going to find the terms easy to agree to.”

Wagner sat back, trying to adopt a relaxed look even though his insides were jittery.

Mark said, “You can let Jobe and Gavin go on this investigation, but you have to send copies of Gavin’s real reports to my office before you shred and burn them.”

“Is there anything I get for this?”

“Gavin and Jobe can both file their expenses through the office, and we’ll play with the numbers to keep the bean counters happy. You can sleep soundly knowing that we have no plans to kill you, your agents, or your ‘consultants.’ And, should they succeed in capturing the unknown animal that attacked Gavin, we’ll make arrangements to house it somewhere isolated.”

Wagner kept himself composed, a testament to his skills because he was fighting the mother of all moral battles in the span of expected silence.

Mark gave him time to think, but he watched Wagner with keen interest. He was trying to get a reading, and yet Wagner was even able to mask his emotions to a certain degree.

For the time being, they were adversaries, but Mark hoped that Wagner could be recruited.

Wagner didn’t need long to come to a decision. Whether he played along or not, Mark’s people would still be watching him. He felt swamped by the cases piling up in his office, and the problems that Gavin and Jobe had were just added weight in the pile.

Mark was offering him a life line. He had no choice, and Mark was making his offer with perfect timing.

Wagner asked, “What happens after this case?”

“If they survive, we’ll pass you a new case. You can tell them that you noticed it, and you can lie however you prefer. In fact, it’s probably better if they don’t know they’re working for us.”

“So you’ll use them?”

“Yes, but the cases they work will be legitimate.” Mark shrugged. “The alternative is, we can release Gavin and Stephanie from our services, and I imagine they would still like to take advantage of their positions of authority.”

“Gavin may. I don’t know where Stephanie and Wendy are. Stephanie hasn’t filed a report, and so far as I know, she isn’t investigating anything. They went into hiding to avoid Damien.”

Mark studied Wagner’s face, then nodded. “We lost track of them after they returned to Vegas. Some of our informants believe that Wendy may have been working with the local police, but curiously, no one anywhere on the chain of command will confirm those rumors.”

Waving his hand in a dismissive gesture, Mark said, “If Wendy reports back to you, you can be assured that we will find a case for her to work on too.”

“Are you trying to keep them busy?” Wagner asked.

Mark laughed, and it sounded genuine enough. “Wagner, we’re all busy these days.” He sighed and gave a nod. “All right, let’s see if you’re willing to make this relationship work. What attacked Gavin?”

“A werebear-orc, from Lissand.” Wagner watched the smile slide off of Mark’s face, and he liked it more than he cared to admit. “It was brought here by an elf.”

“A-an elf?” Mark stammered.

“Yes, a black elf.”

The color drained from Mark’s face, and he was silent for a long time.

When he could compose himself, he rose from his seat, buttoning his coat. “All right, thank you for your cooperation. I’m sure you want to go home and rest, so I’ll be on my way to begin making arrangements for...for the orc.”

He turned to walk to the door, shaking his head.

Wagner asked, “Mark, before you leave, will you tell me why that was bad news?”

“Up until now, the only problems we had were all coming from hell.”

“Heil,” Wagner said.

Mark smiled faintly. “You understand more than we’d given you credit for.”

Wagner looked away from Mark, nodding at a stray thought. “I think I see the problem now. Creatures coming in from Lissand are a whole new batch of problems.”

“Yes, and we’ve got our hands full dealing with the daemons.”

“That’s an apt choice of words, Mark,” Wagner said. He was surprised by the look of shame on Mark’s face. “Don’t tell me you feel bad over it.”

“I don’t have anything to do with the daemons, Wagner.” Mark moved to sit down on the edge of the desk. “That’s not my area of magical expertise.”

“Elemental mage?”

Mark’s laugh was soft and soundless, but the look of admiration in his eyes was obvious. “No, none of the elites are that good. I’m...I work with charms. Damien is the one who cavorts with daemons. I think he’s a summoner.”

“Yeah, I know he’s the one who raised Annul, but you helped steer the investigation away from your superiors.” Wagner held up his hand when Mark began to object. “There’s not a damned thing I can do about it now that Damien is the president, and you know I’m just hiding out in this office to keep from having another sniper take a shot at me.”

Mark nodded and got up from the desk to back toward the door. “That was a military operation brought in by Derrick, and that bypassed my office. I don’t work that way, Wagner.”

“So who set up the car bomb?”

Mark sighed, shaking his head. “Not my office. But if you can just play along with a simple request to obey the law and share evidence, you have my word that there won’t be more snipers.” He opened the door and smirked at Wagner. “For what it’s worth, I hope Jobe and Gavin both survive.”

Ironically, both men thought the same thing as Mark shut the door: Well, that went easier than I thought it would.

***

Saturday, 4:07 pm

Boerne, Texas

Gavin parked in the hospital garage and leaned over to pull his jacket from the narrow bench that served as a “back seat” in the Mustang. He pulled on the jacket and checked his pocket for his badge wallet before he shut the door.

Turning around, he almost ran into Erick. His voice barked in an unbidden yelp and he jumped back to flatten himself against the car. He relaxed once he recognized the elf. Straightening up, he cast a dirty look at the berserker when he snickered.

“Apologies,” Erick said.

“How did you get here?” Gavin asked.

Erick pointed at the back of the car, and said, “I ride in shadow.”

Gavin sighed, turning to smirk at the berserker. “This is like watching E.T. all over again.”

“I must have missed that one.” Walking around the car, the berserker shook his head. “Erick, you can’t come inside with us. You look—”

“I ride in shadow,” Erick said. “Gavin, open coat?”

Gavin opened his jacket, and the elf stepped close to him, moving his hand around Gavin’s waist.

Gavin thought, If he kisses me, I’m knocking him out.

Erick blurred, and then he vanished. At the same instant, Gavin felt something slide across the small of his back, rustling around his side with a disconcertingly light touch. He shuddered and drew up his leg, tensing his arms while he made a cringing expression.

“That looked really gay,” the berserker said.

“Oh good,” Gavin said. “It wasn’t just me.”

The berserker thankfully let the topic go, but he looked away every time Gavin glanced at him during the walk to the hospital entrance. He hid his smirk, but he was not so successful at hiding his amused snorts.

The berserker let Gavin handle the task of dealing with the staff, and within minutes a nurse arrived in the lobby to escort them to the deputy’s room.

On the ride in the elevator, Gavin noticed the berserker shaking. His eyes were glassy and too bright under the florescent lights. His breathing was shallow, and when his gaze moved to Gavin, he clenched his jaw.

“One flaw in the plan,” he growled through his teeth, causing the nurse to look at him with instant anxiety.

Gavin stepped between the nurse and the berserker, speaking in a low voice. “Take deep breaths, and let me do all the talking.”

The berserker gritted his teeth, his molars gnashing. He folded his arms over his chest, looking like a spoiled child who’d been denied a piece of candy.

“Is he all right?” the nurse asked.

“Yeah, he’s just having a bad day.” Gavin looked up at the elevator light and tapped his foot. It seemed the building had the world’s slowest elevator. He opened another button on his shirt and pulled back the fabric to fan his chest.

“Are you all right?” the nurse asked.

“Hmm?” Gavin asked, turning his head to look at the nurse. “Oh, yes, I’m just feeling hot. Is the AC broken?”

The berserker sighed, and Gavin asked, “What?”

“Two flaws in the plan.”

Gavin didn’t need to ask what the second flaw was. He was panting, and the elevator felt too hot. But judging from the nurse, it probably wasn’t the elevator.

He was getting close to someone else with the curse.

He thought, kinfolk call out to each other.

The nurse was getting nervous, and she edged closer to the elevator door, not wanting to be near either man. When the door opened, she walked faster to put plenty of space between herself and them.

“He’s in there,” she said, taking several steps back as they went to the door. She wouldn’t be following them inside.

George Brahms sat up in bed, his wrists strapped to the side rails. His dark brown face was slick with sweat, and he was panting hard.

Gavin shut the door, trying to find his voice. He raised his badge and said, “I’m Gavin Lebowitz. This is Jobe McKenzie. He’s working with me as a—”

Gavin never saw the punch coming, because the berserker was standing just behind him and to his left. The hit connected on the side of his jaw, and Gavin was slammed into the wall, dazed instantly.

***

The berserker watched Gavin slide down the wall, taking a step to grab the deputy and pull him out of the bed.

His attention moved to the window, where he could hear something pounding on the glass. The blinds were down, and he saw nothing.

He veered around the bed, gripping the cord to yank the blinds up. The berserker snarled, but his scowl didn’t match the confusion in his eyes while he watched Jobe pound on the window.

It wasn’t the reflection. The berserker could see his reflection on the inner surface of the glass, and Jobe was outside, on the other side of the window.

“You’re not real!” the berserker shouted. “Get back in my head where you belong, Jobe!”

Jobe stopped pounding on the glass. “You’ve got to calm down! The only place this will lead is to death row.”

“This is my job, all right?” the berserker said. The door opened, and he spun to glare at the nurse who came in.

George shouted, “Get out, and call the police!”

The berserker started toward George, and Jobe punched the glass, shouting, “No! Damn it, think of Wendy, you selfish piece of shit!”

The berserker stopped, clenching his fists. He turned his head slowly toward the window. “I don’t feel a thing for her.”

“Fucking liar!” Jobe growled. “Fine, then think of my dad. Think of what he said. If you want to fight for justice, that’s fine.” Jobe shook his head so fast it almost blurred. He pointed to Gavin’s reflection as the agent began to move sluggishly to get to his feet. “That isn’t justice. It’s just you acting out of animal instinct.”

“What the hell, Jobe?” Gavin put his hand on the wall to support himself. His other hand rose to rub his jaw while he glowered at the berserker. “Do you remember talking to me about not making a scene this morning?”

Jobe pointed at Gavin again. “That’s your friend now. Your only friend! I don’t care if he’s cursed. You apologize to him, and you act like a fucking human being for once!”

The berserker gritted his teeth, turning away from the window to scowl at Gavin. “I...I’m sorry. You’re both cursed, and I’m having trouble keeping my temper in check.”

Rubbing the side of his jaw with one hand, Gavin used the other to wave toward the bathroom. “Why don’t you go splash some water on your face and chill out, all right?”

The berserker nodded, moving around the bed. As he passed Gavin, the urge to lash out tensed his body, but  Jobe thumped the window, and he suppressed the temptation.

Once he made it to the bathroom, Jobe was standing in the bathroom mirror, behind his reflection.

The berserker glowered at the mirror. “How are you overcoming the medication to do this?”

“I didn’t,” Jobe said. “With your metabolism running this fast, you burned through the pills.”

The berserker nodded. “So that’s the third flaw in my plan.” He sighed, cringing as he looked back toward the door. “I think the cops are coming.”

“Yes, and Gavin knows that. It’s why he’s sent you in here. If you stay put and let him do all the talking, this will blow over. Then you get back to the car and take another pill.”

The berserker nodded, moving to sit down in the middle of the floor. “I guess I should thank you. At least one of us was thinking with a clear head.”

Jobe snorted. “Obviously, if I’m talking to you through a mirror, neither one of us is clear-headed.” He pushed the reflection out of the way. “Fuck it. If we’re crazy, why not go all the way?” He slammed the side of his fist on the glass twice. “Knock, knock.”

Jobe punched the glass again, and a hairline fracture ran up the middle of the mirror.

The berserker looked up at the sound, his face filling with shock when he also felt the thumps in his hand. “What are you doing?”

Laughing, Jobe said, “You were supposed to say, ‘who’s there?’”

The berserker flinched when Jobe drew back and punched the glass. Pain exploded across the berserker’s hand, a hot flash from a broken pinky knuckle and a dislocated ring finger. He looked down at his hand, finding the skin purple.

His voice dropped to a hoarse whisper. “What are you doing?”

“I’m busting out.” Jobe punched the glass again, and a spider web of cracks formed on the surface, obscuring the image.

Clutching his throbbing hand, the berserker got to his feet.

His eyes were wide with disbelief as Jobe punched the mirror again, and the pane blew out in an expanding bowl shape. The berserker was so stunned that he couldn’t think to raise his hands and shield his face from the glass.

Jobe flew through the shards, slamming his fist into the berserker’s open mouth. The rest of his body blurred, flowing in a slim column of indistinct colors as he forced himself into the berserker’s mouth and down his throat.

***

Gavin rubbed his jaw, listening to the berserker mumble in the bathroom. Part of him still wanted to be annoyed, but by being hit, Gavin was forced out of his agitated state. He wasn’t panting anymore, and though he was still too warm, he didn’t feel nearly as edgy.

The berserker had done him a favor by knocking sense into him.

Gavin turned to offer George an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry about him. It’s one of the downsides to working with a nutcase. You never know when he’s going to snap.”

George shook his head. “Then you should get a new partner.”

Gavin laughed, dropping his hand from the wall before he walked to stand beside the bed. “He’s not my partner. I’m supposed to be his handler, and we’ve been asked to talk to you off the record.”

George said, “You want to talk about the sasquatch that attacked me.”

“It wasn’t a sasquatch.” Gavin pointed to the leather restraints. “Why did they cuff you?”

“They said I was crazed when I came in. I saw it differently. I thought I was reacting perfectly natural after seeing someone get their head popped by Bigfoot.” George wagged his arm to shake the leather cuff. “As you can see, they won the debate.”

Gavin started to agree, but shivered when a cold breeze rippled over his lower back.

George’s eyes went wide as Erick rose from behind the agent. “Where the hell were you hiding him?”

Gavin chuckled. “Under my jacket, and get your mind out of the gutter.”

“I wasn’t—” George grinned and nodded. “Yeah, okay, but he looks like that’s where he came from.”

Erick smirked. “You make racial joke? That seem wrong...coming from brown man.” He waved down the deputy’s sputtering objection. “No talk. No time for talk.”

George snorted. “Aw, perfect, and he’s a dang foreigner.”

“Yeah, he’s an elf,” Gavin said. “He’s come all the way from another plane of existence.”

Gavin folded his arms over his chest, his smile dropping. “I should remind you that my last name is Lebowitz, so if you’ve got any good Jew jokes, maybe we should get them out of the way now?”

George coughed and shook his head while his smile vanished. “No, I don’t believe I  know any Jew jokes.” He pointed toward the bathroom. “Your nutcase friend mentioned a curse.”

“Yes, the creature you call a sasquatch is really an orc,” Gavin said.

“An orc,” George repeated. He nodded. “And what, pray tell, is the difference between an orc and a sasquatch?”

Gavin started to shake his head, and Erick spoke up. “Sasquatch shorter, and have much more hairiness. Sasquatch no eat meat, and orc no eat vegetation. Also, orc have foul temper, and sasquatch have...much amorous? Will mount anything...very dangerous amorous.”

George opened his mouth, closed it, and then nodded. “All right, thank you. I did not know that.” He smiled at Gavin. “The curse?”

“Werekin,” Gavin said. “This is Erick, by the way.”

“Charmed,” George said, waving for Gavin to continue. “Werekin? Like werewolves?”

Gavin shook his head, glancing at Erick. “The way he explained this to me, we’re going to transform into the animal we most closely identify with. The orc is a werebear, but we might become wolves, or some other kind of creature.”

“Cool,” George said, chuckling at Gavin’s incredulous reaction. “Well, it is. I was worried about being cursed to die or something like that, but if I’m going to transform into a border collie, it might not be so bad.”

Gavin had a dozen rude comments come to mind, but he instead chose to laugh at the one sarcastic thought that joined them. “George, I’m guessing one thing you’re looking forward to is licking your own balls?”

George guffawed and nodded. “My dogs seem to like it. If it’s good enough for them, it’s good enough for me.”

Erick sighed and pointed at the bathroom. “I sit with berserker. You less funny than him.”

“And you need Engrish lessons,” George shot back.

No sooner had the elf shut the bathroom door when four uniformed officers ran into the room with guns drawn. Gavin held out his badge, waving for the men to put away their weapons. “It’s okay, guys, we sorted out the problem.”

One of the officers nodded to George as he holstered his pistol. “We got a call that some nutcase went crazy in here.”

“The nutcase is fine, and I just overreacted,” George said. “His buddy is chilling out in the bathroom, but we weren’t in danger. Sorry guys, but I had the nurse call you for nothing.”

The officer blew out a long breath to relax himself before he laughed. “Hey, better safe than sorry, right, George?”

George glanced at Gavin and shook his head. “No, I think we’ll still end up being sorry.”

***

While George got dressed, Gavin went to the bathroom door and knocked. “Did you calm down yet?” He opened the door and found Jobe sitting on the floor with his back propped against the wall.

It was the physical change that made the switch obvious. Jobe’s skin was pale again, and his arms no longer strained the sleeves of his black T-shirt. The berserker’s constant scowl was gone, and Jobe wore a slack, despondent pout.

Taking a step into the bathroom, Gavin asked, “Hey, are you okay?”

“I think that would depend on your definition of okay.”

“Jobe?” Gavin knelt down, frowning as he looked Jobe in the eye. This wasn’t the slurring voice of the drugged husk, nor the animal growl of the berserker. “What happened to the berserker?”

“He’s in here.” Jobe pointed at the side of his head. “He’s chatting with the rest of us now.”

“Us?”

Jobe nodded. “There’s me, the reflection, the berserker, and about a half dozen nameless voices, not including other people’s thoughts. The berserker burned through my normal dosage, so he’s forced to share space with the rest of us for now. I’m going to dose up when I get back to the car, and I think he’s going to get control again.”

“Do you want me to pass him a message?” Gavin asked.

“There’s no need.” Jobe set his hand on the floor to push himself up and onto his feet. “He can hear me, and I’ve already made my point. I don’t expect him to behave much better, but I don’t think he’ll attack you again.”

George nodded to Jobe as he stepped out of the bathroom. “You’re all white now, so does that mean you’re all right?”

“No, but I think I can fake it,” Jobe said.

“Where’s Erick?”

“Hiding under my armpit.” Jobe snorted as he read George’s thoughts. “It’s funny that you should think a joke about riding bitch. That’s where you’re going, and we’ve got a Mustang.”

The smile fell from George’s mouth before he gasped, “Bastard.”

Jobe turned to grin at Gavin. “I think he’s got me confused with the other guy.”

***

Saturday, 8:39 pm

San Antonio, Texas

Gavin pulled the Mustang over on the shoulder of the highway. Getting out of the car, he glanced around as he shut the door.

George got out on the passenger side, groaning as both of his knees popped.

Walking around the car, Gavin pointed to the broken barbed wire fence. “That’s where the bear broke through the fence. The portal was just over the highway, maybe eight or nine feet in the air when it opened. We struck the bear with our car, and I think that’s why it didn’t tear both of us apart. It was still dazed, and so it was moving slow.”

The berserker shuddered as Erick slipped out from under his shirt.

He ignored Gavin’s laughter as he waved to the point of his initial landing in the field. “I’m going to have to disagree with Gavin’s assessment. The orc had probably shaken off the impact on its own. With the werekin curse healing it faster, we were seeing the animal at top speed.”

“Yes, you right,” Erick agreed. “Orc...” Erick searched for a word but couldn’t find it. He groaned out a frustrated slur in sidhe, and then he said, “I need Darryl. He has psychic things.”

“Psychic abilities,” the berserker said. “Why would that help now?”

“Darryl know English. Darryl can—” Erick tapped his finger against his forehead, groaning while he searched for a word. “Darryl can send things in. I understand better with him help.”

The berserker nodded. “All right, so go talk to your friend, and then maybe we can understand you.”

Shaking his head, Erick muttered, “No.”

“Why not?”

Erick had to struggle for an answer, and for many minutes, he stared at the berserker with a petulant frown.

In the silence George leaned over to mutter to Gavin, “Do you deal with mind readers often?”

Gavin pointed at the berserker. “All the time.”

George glanced at the berserker, who sighed and said, “That is the most typically male number you could possibly think of. If you’re going to test me, at least think of something less obvious.”

George shook his head. “No, I’m satisfied now.”

Gavin said, “If it’s any comfort, you’ll start blocking him out soon. It’s one of the few perks of the curse.”

“Oh, good,” George said. He returned his attention to the elf and asked, “So what’s the kid’s problem?”

Erick glared at George. “I no kid! I seventy-six years old, and know more than...”

George snorted. “Yeah, you’re a kid all right.”

“Stow it,” the berserker said. He leaned over to look Erick in the eye. “Why can’t you go back to Lissand?”

“I commit crime, coming to Earth with orc. I go back, I suffer punishment.”

The berserker nodded, his glare hardening. “Let me explain something. You’ve been following us to get our help, but you don’t understand that Gavin is an agent of law enforcement. You confessed to releasing a deadly wild animal not indigenous to the area, and that’s a crime. So it seems to me, you’re facing a prison sentence either way.”

Erick started to sputter, but the berserker talked over his objections. “If you returned to Lissand, you could plead our case, and maybe get us some extra collars to keep our new furball population in check. I’m sure that might convince your people not to lock you up. But if you stay here, what good are you to us?”

Erick’s tiny mouth drew tight into a downward sloping bow. “If I go, you swear keep orc alive...even if I can’t return with more collars.”

The berserker nodded. “I’ll do my best.”

“It take me much time to get back,” Erick said. “I no explain now. I try when come back, know English gooder.”

Erick stepped away from the car and raised his hand above his head. Jobe and Gavin both dropped their heads, expecting the flash of light.

George didn’t, and he grunted as he dropped to his knees and rubbed his eyes. When he could see again, both Gavin and the berserker were watching him with thoughtful expressions.

Feeling nervous, he asked, “What?”

The berserker asked, “How do you feel about the nickname ‘orc bait?’”