.

Like a small boat on the ocean
Sending big waves into motion
Like how a single word can make a heart open
I might only have one match but I can make an explosion


Chapter 31: Ingenuity


Sherry wasn't sure what she'd been expecting. A wart-covered crone, a stern politician, a risqué comic book villain - but what she got was a pretty woman, maybe a little over thirty, her hair curled and eyes cold. She was dressed to kill, literally, and had an expression that seemed to be permanently wrought from evil.

And she'd thought the Berserkers were bad.

Theo was grinning, the blood dripping from him in spades. "That wasn't so hard, was it?"

Kate snarled, her claws extended and teeth bared.

Sherry shrunk, her flight-or-fight instinct tantalizing her. She just wanted to be able to move. And as Theo ran at Kate, Sherry dug her arms under the Berserker's shoulders and shoved. It was like moving a wall. She was reminded of handstand push-ups, how it was nearly impossible to push herself back up once she was on her head. She strained and strained, pushing beyond her capabilities, until she was nearly crying with effort. Her left arm screamed. It had to be broken. All the pushing she was doing made her feel like she was fracturing it all over again.

A howl came from Kate Argent. There were sounds of fighting — whips, cracks, bangs — but Sherry had her eyes clenched shut, concentrating.

Finally, her torso slid out, and it was relatively easier to extract her feet. She was scraped up all over, a fact she didn't let herself consider. Biting her lip to mitigate the pain, she rose to her feet and snuck around the chamber, dodging blows between Theo and Kate.

She was trying to find out where Kate had come from — an entrance or exit — so she could sneak back to the car and use all the chemicals she'd brought here in case. They were stashed in a duffel in the trunk, but she was fairly certain Theo didn't know they were there. Not that she'd hidden them, but she'd just brought it along and Theo hadn't asked any questions.

Now, she felt her way along the far wall, flummoxed at the lack of doors, until the realization hit her. She looked up, and there was a trap door, an open hole in the stone ceiling. The was no way up but a knotted rope hung about two feet over Sherry's head.

She wanted to groan. Backing up, and taking a running start, she punched her feet into the floor and exploded upward, the same way she used to propel herself into a front flip. She caught the end of the rope and a rip of pain seared up her arm. Her eyes swimming, she pulled her body upwards, her feet dangling below her. Muscles clenched tight, she quickly removed her right hand and replaced it higher on the rope. And she pulled.

Inch by inch, she climbed her way up the rope. As soon as she got high enough, she pulled her feet up, wrapping them around the rope's base and breathing a sigh of relief as she easily pushed herself higher. Once she was fully inside the next room, she swung off the rope and landed, tottering, at the edge of the hole.

Wheezing uneven, gasping gulps, she resisted the urge to collapse on the ground. She brought her hands behind her head, opening her airways, and blinked the tears and sweat out of her eyes.

She was in an alcove that lead to stairs. After retrieving the rope, she climbed them, glad for once that her arms got to rest, and hoped that she wasn't making a mistake leaving Theo. Getting lost would be fatal.

There were little shelves in the winding wall of the staircase that held oil lamps, but they smoldered dimly, like the light of a single match.

The room at the end was like a lab, or a small museum or bunker. There were strange artifacts that seemed supernatural and ancient scattered on clawed-up tables. Potions and formaldehyde jars bubbled eerily. Was there really no way out?

A faint shimmer, like the reflection of light off a sequin, caught her eye. She moved through the room, past tables and cabinets and weapons on racks, and stopped at the far wall, where a ray of light poked through a hole in the disintegrating stone wall. The stone was in flat slabs and blocks, maybe a foot high and a little more wide. She pushed at the blocks. One of them made a grating sound, and she thought that it had budged a millimeter or so.

She picked up a spear from a rack, gingerly touching the crimson-stained metal staff. Grabbing near the blade end, she slammed it into the brick. Grate. She tried again.

Clacking sounds echoed from the stairs. Sherry gasped. Kate.

Thinking quickly, she tied the rope she'd stolen around a support column near the middle of the room.

She went to stand in front of the precarious wall.

Kate appeared. She was fuming, and looked unharmed apart from a three-claw scratch down her shoulder.

"Come and get me," Sherry yelled, in the bravest voice she could muster.

In an ear-splitting roar, Kate pounced. Her face was dappled with jaguar spots, and her teeth looked sharper and yellower the closer they came and — Sherry ducked in the nick of time, and Kate slammed into the wall like a battering iron. The stone bricks scattered, but Kate scrabbled at the floor at the last second.

There was a crater in the wall now that went through to the other side, where settling dust swirled in the dry air. It sweltered, and the heat diffused into the temple's cool interior. Over the edge, Sherry thought she was maybe three stories up. The walls were sloped, almost like a pyramid, and were stepped with blocks of stone.

Kate's claws dug into the cracked stone floor, her veins popping with fury as she pulled herself upward.

Absently, Sherry wondered what had happened to Theo.

Then she remembered the rope, still tied to a post, and hastily pulled the knotted end from the haphazard pile on the floor. Kate was still pulling her legs over the edge. With a running leap, and ignoring the desperate screams of her consciousness, Sherry plunged out into the open air.

She fell for what felt like ages, and she scrabbled with the rope so that her feet were planted on the knot and her body wrapped so as not to put too much strain on her left arm.

Still, it hurt. Her body jerked as the rope reached its full length, and she slammed against the sloped wall of the temple. The hard corners dug into her back and hips and shoulders and rubbed raw lines where skin met stone. The contents of her bag punched into her spine, the rope strap slipping off one shoulder.

She looked up, certain that Kate would slash the rope or come after her at any moment. Swallowing, although she was so dehydrated that there wasn't much left to swallow, she reluctantly looked down. There was at least fifteen feet below her. Jumping would ruin her legs, so she had no choice but to climb. She unraveled her chafed feet and ankles from the rope, setting them carefully on the inch or so of exposed ledge. She let go of one hand, grabbing another dusty ledge above her head. Her fingers nearly slipped from sweat, and her palm burned — she hadn't noticed the rope burn before. She replaced the other hand and clung to the ledge, stomach roiling and nerves unwilling to let her body move.

She'd always liked climbing walls before — at least, she liked the ones in padded gyms with automatic belays and big round knobs for easy grips. She'd never once climbed down a wall or gone actually rock climbing before, although her mother had always wanted to take her someday. Someday. Sherry gritted her teeth, resolved to get her mother from prison. She couldn't leave her there, not while they still had lifetimes of unfinished promises and experiences.

Her finger muscles burned. Her sneakers balanced on millimeters of rounded toe. She moved her feet down a ledge, followed with her hands. A foot at a time, every muscle and nerve screeching, she made her way down the wall. And then, finally close enough to the ground to jump, Sherry leaped.

Her feet hit the ground with a jolt that zapped up to her knees, and she pushed off so quickly in the direction of the parked car that she nearly face-planted. The sand beneath her feet slowed her sprint, and she careened dangerously around the abundant foliage of cacti, tumble weeds, and Joshua trees.

The car was forever away, and her legs were all tingly with lack of oxygen by the time she leaned over on her knees, dizzy. The car was unlocked, just in case they had to drive away quickly, but the deathly heat of the metal exterior now was as much as a lock itself. Her head pounded.

She wondered why Kate hadn't followed her, down, expecting the worst. Was there another, easier way down? Was she finishing off Theo? Was Sherry already as good as dead?

She pulled up her shirt, wrapping her battered fingers inside the fabric and tried again to touch the car. It was still hot, but at least it was bearable. Grimacing, she reached her fingers into the handle and pulled open the trunk. Her duffel was there, slightly warm, but still the only thing that hadn't yet been damaged by the day's activities.

She sorted through the bottles and cans. What would be most effective against a Chimera? As soon as she thought it, she knew. She picked up the biggest container, the heated metal urn that held deadly liquid nitrogen in its belly. Liquid nitrogen was generally used for instant freezing, like in industrial factories and to make astronaut ice cream. It could turn any living or dead object into fragile ice in less than an instant. And if Kate was also made of cells, it would work against her.

Sherry emptied out her backpack and stuffed the urn inside. It barely fit — she had to do a lot of tugging and stretching to get it in — and it was nearly impossible to carry around. the strings of the backpack cut into her shoulders, the roundness of the container bouncing awkwardly off her back.

Now, all she had to do was find Kate. Which... was easier said than done. She debated going through the front entrance again or going back the way she came. She decided on the latter, not because she was even considering climbing back up, but because in all likeliness, Kate was still up there. And she could just as easily jump down.

Sherry set off toward the back wall, pulling her backpack off her shoulders temporarily. She walked, conserving her energy, backpack of liquid nitrogen nestled in her arms. When she arrived, she looked up to see the rope still dangling there, circling listlessly in the breeze.

"HEY!" Sherry bellowed, as loud as she could be. "Come get me, Kate Argent!"

A mane of curled caramel hair appeared near the top. "And why should I?" Her voice was human, like it was when she'd first announced her presence. The absence of the demented growl nearly shook Sherry's concentration.

"You can't kill me from up there!"

"If I wanted to kill you, kid, I would have done it already." Her voice projected easily, the aftertaste of acid still pervading her words.

"Come down and prove it!" she hollered, blood pounding in her ears. She was surprised Kate wasn't planning on killing her, but the stupidity of her own apparent death wish scared her to hell and back.

"Listen, kid," Kate said. "I'm letting you live. Didn't your mother teach you manners?"

At any other time, Sherry would have fumed. Now, she was so filled with fear and primal energy that she had no room for any other emotion left. "What's one more kill to a murderer with a list as long as yours?" she taunted, although the way it came out she probably sounded more like a kitten than a bully.

She kept thinking Kate would snap and slash out her throat on the spot before she even had time to blink. But what Kate really seemed to be doing was rolling her eyes, although Sherry couldn't be certain from the distance. "Well, you asked for it," Kate replied, dropping instantly from the ledge down three stories to the ground. She landed cleanly, like a cat from a tree. Which she was, in a sense, at a larger scale. She held out a hand, flicking out her retractable cat's claws. Her eyes flashed green and purple spots spread out over her sharp cheekbones, over her forehead and nose and chin as her face contorted into a vestigial growl.

Kate slithered closer. Sherry uncapped the nitrogen. Cool fog tickled at her fingers.

Sickly green eyes leered down at her, as if taunting her to run away. "Not scared to die, huh?"

Forcing herself to breathe normally, she readied the container. "Only because I know I won't." A lie, but she didn't let herself think otherwise. She swung the canister.

Clear liquid, obscured by trailing fog, splashed into the air, coating Kate before she could think to dodge. It covered her from head to toe, freezing her hair stiff and crystallizing the mottled purple pattern that infected her face. She was a statue in a split second.

Panicking, Sherry dove behind Kate, slowing the werejaguar's fall by pushing against her still-soft back. A hard landing would have shattered her.

There was still some nitrogen left in the canister, but Sherry screwed it up and set it aside for future use. Now, to find Theo.

She wasn't sure how to enter back inside, but she figured climbing up a steep wall was better than falling through a floor again to land in a now-empty pit where a pool used to be.

She dug her fingers into the niches between stone, her sneakers pushing precariously on surfaces too narrow to tiptoe on, much less stand. Going down was easy; gravity was in her favor, and if she fell, at least she'd end up at her destination. Now, she had to pull herself up with only strength from her fingertips, and she was exhausted before she'd even gone up two feet. But she wasn't as scared — the worst was over, and all she had to do was find Theo. When she reached the rope, she latched on happily and shimmied up.

The room was as she'd left it, but for a smashed table in the corner. Theo wasn't here, so she untied the rope and brought it back to the trapdoor. This time, she tied it higher up on the rope so that it hung lower over the floor, making it easier for her trip back up. She hurried down the hall, into the open chamber, and found Theo leaning against a wall, wrapping strips of shirt around bloody gashes in his side.

"Oh my god," she squeaked, and rushed over to look at him.

He blinked in surprise, obviously dizzy with blood loss. "You're okay?!"

"Well, yeah," she said, thinking that her minor cuts, bruises, and broken arm paled in comparison to his state. "I froze her with liquid nitrogen."

"Oh," he said, sounding both disbelieving and disappointed. Disappointed that she'd won? But he explained, "I wish I'd thought of that."

"Next time," she said, firmly. "And there will be one, because I'm getting you out." She reached over with an open hand. "Now."


A/N: Thank you guys for reading! These last two chapters were a venture for me because action isn't usually my style. So let me know what you thought, if you think I could improve or if you liked it :)

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