Chapter 110

Chapter 110: 110 The sharp bit of driftwood, no matter how sharp, was no substitute for a proper sword but Bran still raised it against the rabble of attackers. A pity he couldn’t at least strengthen the wood with magic. Beside and a little ahead of him, Misha growled, his tail whipping back and forth and making the men closest to them hesitate. There were six of them, all masked up and wearing heavy clothes that looked like they could take a beating. They also had guns, or at least, oddly colourful plastic replicas of guns. Bran guessed they were 3D printed ones and he regretted never looking into just how effective something like that could be, though he couldn’t really blame himself that much. Magic just seemed like such a better option. "What do you want?" Bran called out to them, not unkindly. He didn’t really think they’d want to negotiate but he wanted to, on the off chance, try to establish to these attackers that they were humans too. Well, that Bran was a human like them and that Misha was a good sort of being too. None of the attackers said anything and instead one, who gave off leader vibes, gave a wave of his hand and the two with guns stepped forward, raising their weapons. Bullets from real guns travelled far faster than Bran or Misha could react, but did 3D printed guns work the same way? "Is that you Adam?" Bran tried. One of them, the guy on the end that wasn’t holding a gun, flinched and Bran’s eyes latched to him. So he was right, this was an attack orchestrated, or at least, triggered by good ol’Adam passing information about their chance meeting along. A man with a gun took another step forward and Misha’s jaw snapped just inches from his fingers setting the guy sprawling backwards in fear and dropping his gun. Before the weapon hit the sand, Bran had already abandoned the bit of driftwood and grabbed the plastic gun, training it on the man on the ground. "Get up!" shouted their leader. He was angry and for good reason. Bran glanced over his new weapon and confirmed that he didn’t know the first thing about firing it but he hefted it like he’d seen action heroes did in the movies and hoped that would be enough. "Sure you don’t want to talk this through?" he asked indicating the leader with the shooty end of the gun. "We don’t talk to traitors!" shouted one of the other masked men. Or perhaps ’boy’ was a better descriptor considering how squeaky his voice still was. "Oh? Traitor to who exactly?" asked Bran. Though there were certain suspicions growing in his mind, why not get it confirmed since he had the opportunity? "To people! To humanity! You and that..." the boy pointed at Misha, "thing are-" Bran took a step forward, bringing the gun to bear on the boy. "The hell did you just say?" Forget confirming theories, Bran was seeing red and he would be making heads roll, regardless if he figured out how to get the gun working. "Th-th..." The boy stuttered and everyone, including the leader took a step back, as the thing drew up behind Bran. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Misha’s jaws open and his sharp teeth flash in the moonlight. Everyone else took this as a threat, yet, strangely, Bran felt it was more like the loong was telling him to calm down. And it wasn’t the first time. For the past few days, Bran’s emotions had been all over the place, likely a result of the seal being removed from him. Interesting just how big of an impact such a thing could have on one’s life. Bran did his best to take a calming breath as inconspicuously as possible and adjusted his grip on the gun. It felt way to light for something that could cause actual damage... A chilling howl rang out. The leader of the attackers pointed at Bran and Misha. "Don’t try to play any tricks. We’re-" A large, wet, slightly stinking mass of flesh slapped down on the sand between the two opposing sides. Bran looked at the squid and its slowly disintegrating eye then at the leader. "This isn’t my trick." Clearly, the guy wouldn’t believe him but it didn’t matter. Before the words were all out of Bran’s mouth, an even larger shadow sailed over his head and landed on top of the squid corpse, coupled with another howl. A hungry howl. Teeth and claws gnashed and tore at the fragile flesh. A beast had arrived to the party. Or had been lured. "Bran!" Bran tried turning to see who was calling him while keeping his gun raised but found it meaningless as Misha had decided to take a mouthful of his shirt and pick him up him, mother cat-like. "Wah!" "Don’t let them get away!" shouted the leader, still somehow believing he had things under control. The member of the attack team with the squeaky voice had already disappeared while two others, notably the other guy with the gun, were quickly backing away from the large, black creature who was getting through its squid meal a little too quickly for comfort. That left two more who were now cowering behind their leader. The beast finished eating and turned its glowing gold eyes on the fresh meat buffet in front of it. "Oh my god!!" There was the clattering of gun fire and Bran managed to twist just enough in Misha’s grip to witness the bullets hit the creature’s hide. And do nothing. The creature gave a roar and decided it was time to chow down. "Bran!" Water sprayed up around him and he instinctively dropped the gun as he tried to keep his head above the water. Misha was trying to carry him into the sea but wasn’t tall enough to keep him afloat. Bran reached for him and he saw the panic in the loong’s eyes as he tried to get a better grip on him without drawing blood. A wave crashed into the pair of them and Bran’s shirt finally ripped, letting him free of Misha’s grip. Bran saw this coming and did his best to keep afloat but it was difficult. Misha disappeared below the waterline and came up under him but Bran’s hands were too clammy to gain purchase and he still had his shoes on. Then hands, humanoid hands, rose out of the water and pushed him back onto the slippery loong back. Bran quickly wrapped his arms around Misha’s neck then looked down in the water to see who had saved him and saw an unexpected but welcome face. -- The survey boat was anchored far enough out from the beach that no casual observer would have been able to spot it, which was good for the kind of stealthy reconnoitering the pair were up to, but not so good if one had to swim there. But swim there the three of them did with both Misha and Tuesday doing most of the heavy lifting when it came to getting Bran there in one, living, piece. Swimming fully clothed was very difficult. On reaching the boat, Misha shimmied out of the water first then reached down his long neck to give Bran something to grab onto to help haul him up, a rather human-like gesture, all things considering. But Bran had other things to think about, like breathing air, and he flopped down on the deck of the boat, face up and gasped. After his breathing calmed down he opened his eyes to find Misha standing over him, concern all over his serpentine face. Bran raised a hand to stroke his jaw. "I’m okay." Misha gave him a quick lick on the cheek in response. "Get a room," said Tuesday from the water. Bran, despite it all, or maybe because of it, burst out laughing, then sat up. "I’ll try. On the beach, was that Helen?" He’d directed his question at Tuesday, still in the water, but it was another voice who answered him. "Good guess. It was, yeah," said Zhan, coming out of the cabin. Bran stared at him. "Who are you?" Zhan, clearly not expecting this, took a moment to react while Misha made a sound that could only be considered laughter. Zhan turned to glare at the loong. "Not as famous as you though, huh, Zhan?" said Tuesday. She had her arms up on the lowered section of the deck by the water but clearly had no intention of getting out. "Zhan...? Oh!" Bran turned back to this new/old acquaintance. "You broke my sword." "Yeah, well..." Zhan muttered. "He also helped Misha find you back at The Unity headquarters," added Tuesday. Bran looked at her with surprise then at Misha, but didn’t get any confirmation from him. The loong was too busy nosing some of the crates that smelt rather distinctly of sea-derived food. "Do you know who those people on the beach were?" Bran asked instead. "We were hoping you could tell us," replied Tuesday. "But... I can make a wild guess."