SALLY

As we entered the service corridor, someone laughed. I held up a clenched fist.

“Who’s that?”  Moe asked as we paused.

I gave the universal sign for silence and signaled for Moe to wait here for me as I reconnoitered.   

≈≈≈

“What is so damn funny?”

“You are.”

“Why? Cause I think this cage must be something?” A slim man dressed entirely in faded black was asking the question.

“Yeah, how d'ya know it’s nice since ya can’t see it?” A small man in tattered pants, a patched, gray pea jacket, and black watch cap replied. 

“I can feel it can’t I,” he patted the invisible object as he walked. “What I wouldn’t do for a stealthed cage.”             

“Yeah, an where would you go? Take out one o’ them fancy ladies ya meet on the street?”

“Shut up ya troll. I never hafta pay for it. Sides, once Flaherty figures out how to get in, maybe he’ll let me take the cage out for a spin as a reward.”

“Sure he will.” 

The tall thin man backed up. “How’s it done?” I mean, I’m standing right up close to the car and I can’t see it. “Might have walked right on by without noticing.”

“Yeah, kind of wish I would have just walked by. Damn near broke a rib running into the hood. I think it was the hood.” The short man patted the car. “The car feels small, how d’ya think it got down here?  Through the tunnels?”

“Naw ya idjiot.  There’s a ramp leading up to the street that way. Flaherty said the buses came in that way decades ago.”

“Yeah, yeah, I remember, but ain’t it mostly collapsed?”

“There’s a small gap at the top, enough to squeeze through if yer a good driver like me.” 

≈≈≈

“Why didn’t ya tell me yer vehicle is stealthed? Ain’t that illegal?”

Moe had startled a month of life out of me. He was light on his feet when he wanted to be. I pointed at my head. “I didn’t remember it was stealthed. Although it explains the ridiculous parking location. And I told you to stay put while I scouted. Now hide the buckle. Those two might stop arguing long enough to notice the glow.” And just why did I have a stealthed car?

Moe untucked his shirt dimming the glow considerably. “All that hand frippery don’t mean a dang thing to me, Mystery Man. An it’s a good thing I didn’t wait. If Flaherty’s on his way to look at yer vehicle we gotta get outta here, double-time fast.”

“It isn’t frippery, its code, so we can talk without… oh, never mind.  You see where the little guy is? Head that way, he’s on the passenger side of the vehicle.  As I approach, I’ll order the doors open, you slide in. I can take the tall one out if he resists. We’ll be long gone before Flaherty shows.”

“That’s your plan?  We just walk out like we're taking a stroll.”

“You have a better idea?” 

“Nope, been out of those for a while now.”

I resisted the urge to laugh before exiting the corridor. “Gentleman.” 

Our appearance caught both men off guard.   

“What the hell? Where’d you come from?” The tall man dressed in black asked waving an ancient .38 Special my way.

His companion had a revolver I didn’t recognize. From its condition, I surmised it would take off his hand if he tried to shoot.      

“Ya better piss off pretty boy if ya know what’s good for you,” the short man’s threat might have carried more weight had he not bumped into the car while rounding it. He grunted. “Hey I knows ya don’t I? Yer that doc. The one from Junk City, that fixes people up. Whatcha doing down here?” 

The recognition had relieved some of their tension. 

“Came down to take care of this guy,” Moe thumbed at me.

“He pay ya with his clothes?” Troll asked chuckling.

“Moe patted his chest. Yep, fair trade fer sure.”

“Yeah, well, yer both going to have to move along, cause this place is out of bounds,” the tall man said. “So if yer knows what’s good for ya, turn around an head on back up to the main concourse and go out that way.” 

“What’s wrong with the exit up ahead?” I asked approaching.   

“Is that you Moe? You son of a Gerlang!” A deep resonating voice bounced off the walls.  A large man, in a long, black, flowing overcoat draped over broad square shoulders emerged from the dark shadows of a corridor.  The near-sighted short guy rushed to usher Flaherty around the car safely. 

“I warned you to never to come back into my territory again, Doc.” 

“Flaherty. Yer looking healthy. Looks like ya owe me big for the great advice,” Moe said.

Flaherty guffawed. 

He had the look of a man who’d seen and won a lot of fights.  His chin was square. His teeth were prominent, beneath a permanently split lip. His brow was bushy, with hooded lids over coal black eyes. He shed his overcoat, tossing it to the short man. The gray shirt beneath was taught, straining across a muscled chest and thick arms.

I wasn’t worried about him or his now overconfident men. The woman emerging from the shadowed corridor, on the other hand, was setting off all kinds of alarms. Her long lean frame was draped in swathes of floor-length olive and gray fabric. Her heels clicked. Or more accurately, they scratched against the tiled floor.                  

“Now some like guns,” Flaherty said approaching Moe slowly. “Not me. No siree. I like knives. They’re the ideal weapon. Easy to carry and conceal. Always ready. Never needing to be reloaded or recharged. And this knife is perfection itself. Well-balanced.” Light shimmered off the silver blade he spun in his large right hand. “Hell it’s so sharp, I didn’t even know the previous owner had cut me until after I’d snatched it from him and planted it into his black heart. I swear I heard the metal sing as it nicked his ribs on the way in. Now, that was a good fight.” 

I was fairly certain Flaherty was mad. 

 “And who might you be?”  Flaherty asked tapping the blade in the palm of his hand. 

“He’s my nephew.”

“I asked him, Moe.” Flaherty pointed the blade at me.

“John Doe,” I replied keeping an eye on the woman who had slowed but was still headed our way.   

“Funny, guy. Why you staring at my Missus? You hoping to get yerself a piece of my woman too, just like Moe here.”   

“Flaherty I never touched yer Missus, never so much as got near her, an ya know it. Sally, tell yer husband I never went near ya.”

“How’s it ya know my Missus’ name then Moe?”     

Flaherty’s men were smiling. Sally was to my right. Letting her get behind me was something I needed to avoid at all costs.     

“Ya told me her name when I was helping ya,” Moe replied. “And I don’t mess with another man’s wife. I ain’t that kinda man.”

“Now, put the knife away,” Moe said shuffling toward me. “We don’t want no trouble. An you don’t want none either. The P.E.A. is crawling all over the place. They could come down here any minute lookin for that cage ya almost tripped over.”

Flaherty’s head cocked to one side. “You’ve a smart mouth for a stupid man. And how d’ya know about my cage?”

“Overheard them two, now we’re jus gonna leave here nice and peace like.”

Sally growled, a deep feral noise.

“No ya ain’t.” Flaherty lunged.

Acting on instinct I shoved Moe out of the way deflecting Flaherty’s thrust. Using the momentum I spun grasping Flaherty’s thick arm for leverage, slammed into him and tossed. Flaherty flew over my shoulder. His head hit the tiles hard. He was out cold and bleeding.  

Sally screeched and charged. The sound was mind numbing. I waited. Her ribs crunched beneath my front kick. The forced exhalation of foul breath made me shudder. Her long hideous hair was completing its arc. I sidestepped quickly as she staggered away.  I picked up Flaherty’s knife and waited knowing it wasn’t over. Sally’s back was to me. She straightened up tossed her oily coils back and turned slowly revealing her monstrous canine face with its jutting jaw. Moe and Flaherty’s men gasped.

 Sally growled, baring sharp, yellow teeth. She circled. I echoed her steps, waiting for her second frontal attack. I didn’t have to wait long. She charged me, claws outstretched. I had reach on my side. I slashed and spun. My roundhouse connected forcefully. She fell on all fours. Her wrists pulsing with blue blood.  She threw her head back and keened. The sharp, shrill wail was an icepick into the brain. Paralytic to anyone who hadn’t heard it before. Resist, resist, resist, she’s hurt, bleeding hard, resist, my brain screamed as my head ached and my body slowed.  Moe and Flaherty’s henchmen rolled on the floor in agony as they tried to shut out the noise by cupping their ears. 

The keening stopped as the bitch turned to look at me. She cocked her head in confusion. Her feral brain unable to process the fact that I was still upright. She rose slowly. The loss of blood and broken ribs taking their toll. I backed away gaining distance as her round soulless eyes continued to appraised me as she licked her leathery lips.   

I shifted the blade. Flaherty was right. The knife was exceptionally well balanced. I preferred a Ka-Bar.  But this would stop her just fine if I timed it right. I’d just need to gain speed the moment she charged.  I backed up, gaining distance. She charged, I sprinted at her giving it all I had just as she hit air going for my throat. I rode my knees beneath her thrusting the knife up and into her lacerating flesh like butter as she sailed over me. I rolled away narrowly avoiding being trapped beneath her as she hit the floor sliding and skidding on blood and viscera. She struggled, managing to flip over exposing her gaping abdomen. The air reeked of something fetid, vile, and decaying. She gasped for breath, tongue lolling as her purple hair writhed, feeding on her own blood.     

Moe and Flaherty’s men rose slowly. Gaping at the sight of the monster on the floor. 

“What is that thing?” Moe finally asked.

Flaherty’s men were too stunned to speak. 

“A Ferleen,” I answered. “Vampires of the deep. She doesn’t have hair. Those coils are a colony of tiny bloodsuckers. As they draw blood, they release an opioid. The victim is euphoric throughout the feeding. Ferleen will kill the first time but they prefer to toy with their victims. Preying on the same person for month’s even years. Eventually, the opioid will either kill the host or drive him or her mad. At that point the Ferleen will kill and move on.”

There was silence as we watched the feelers engorge, turning a dark purple as they sated on the Ferleen’s own blood.   

“Never really got a look at her before, she… she… always… stuck to the shadows,” Flaherty’s short squat man’s voice quivered. “Would I know if she… ah… you know… fed off… off… me?

 I shook my head. 

“She’s a bitch, a nightmare cross between a woman and a dog, how’s that even possible?” the tall one asked.   

Moe shuddered, “Cerberus is real after all. And she owned a man.” 

Both were right. Ferleens were a monstrous chimeric bipedal dog. A feral nightmare covered with coarse and wiry, black and tan fur.

“Are there more of them around?”  The troll asked.

“Possible. Was Flaherty ever off planet?” 

“Naw, he ain’t never been anywhere, not even to the moon,” he replied.

“Then she was brought here by someone else and he or she is dead.”

“So they ain’t gonna invade us?” The troll asked.

“No, Ferleen are resourceful but still more canine than human.”

“How do ya know it’s a she and are ya sure she’s dead,” the tall one asked nudging her leg with his foot. 

“You’re free to check, but I’m certain she’s female. Just don’t go anywhere near the feelers. They’re still able to attach and gorge off you for days until the Ferleen’s body begins to decay,” a gruesome image of an injured man being bled alive as he lay next to a dead Ferleen made me shudder. It was a memory best forgotten. “Believe me if she wasn’t dead, she’d get up again. We need to incinerate the body.”

“Burn it. Yer out of your mind? Smells like hell already, I’m outta here,” the tall man turned on his heels and sprinted toward the exit.   

The troll glanced at a groaning Flaherty, “I think I’m going to be sick,” he bolted after tall and thin.   

“Flaherty’s gonna have one heck of a headache from the concussion when he wakes,” Moe said as he examined Flaherty. “But he’ll be fine.” He rose. “Ya know it takes a lot of heat to incinerate a body, can’t we just leave her?” 

“No. Absolutely not. Babe, uncloak.” I grabbed Flaherty by the arms and started dragging him. “Moe, get inside the car and wait for me. “ I hauled the moaning, king of cutthroats down the corridor and out the door and across the concourse toward an exit.

Moe was examining Sally’s undercarriage when I returned. It wasn’t pretty.

“Definitely a female but not exactly…uh…right…how does-”

“I don’t want to speculate.”

“Sure, sure. Can’t help but be curious though.”

I ordered Babe to release the trunk and retrieved several fuel cells. After dropping them next to Sally I released a carefully hidden compartment within the trunk and withdrew my prized Walther PPK. Moe gapped at the gun while buckling up next to me. “Babe, activate cloak, open window and prepare to navigate.”

As my window lowered, I shot a cube. It exploded as I accelerated. Flames roiled along the ceiling igniting the adjacent fuel cells like hellish dominos as we shot up the sloped ramp chased by a fireball. Moe yelped as Babe took to the air and we exited the narrow gap at 180 degrees framed by jagged rubble. Flames and smoke belched from the entrance like a dragon with dyspepsia. Seconds later, screaming sirens and blue and red strobes were headed our way. I banked avoiding collision.     

“We’re gonna get run into,” Moe yelled as cruisers shot by. 

“Not a chance. But Captain Draypace’s night just got longer,” I replied.  “Babe, take me home.”

Moe was silent for a few moments. “So you remember everything now?”

“No, it’s Swiss cheese up there. But I’m on the mend I guess.”

Moe was silent for a moment. “Ya know Mystery Man there’s a whole lot more to you than I imagined. I guess Recon Team Six was off planet. Not ta mention well trained.”

I nodded. “I only wish I remembered, although there are some memories like of the Ferleen back there that could stay lost forever.”

“How were ya able to resist that howling?”

I shook my head. The cobwebs were so very thick. “Must be less paralytic if you’ve heard it often. I can’t tell you more than that.”

“Un huh,” Moe stared at me. “For the record, I’m never coming down here again.”

“Probably for the best.”

We banked.

“Why do you call yer car ‘Babe’?” He asked reaching for something on the back seat.

“No idea. Although, I know where I live.” I tapped some keys on the display screen. “It’s Twenty-One B Blaker St.”

“Is yer name listed?”

“No.” 

“Maybe it’s on this,” Moe flipped a small catalogue over to the back page. 

“Is it?” 

“Yep, great name too.”

“What is it?”

“Current Occupant.” 

I groaned.