Obsidian Butterfly

A voice yelled from up the slope. "I don't see them."

There was a long piece of bleached wood on the floor of the wash. I picked it up and hit him twice, hard. He finally slumped on the ground and didn't move. I didn't have time to check for a pulse. The wash stretched straight for about a hundred yards before brush filled the end of it. There was a place in the bank that had washed away more than the rest. It was like a shallow cave. I had a split second to decide which way to go. I took the knife sheath out of my back pocket, and threw it knife and all as far as I could towards the brush. I went for the cave, scrambling on feet and hands like a monkey, keeping low. I was in the cooler shade of the depression when I heard the men coming down the slope.

"I don't see them," the first man said.

"They went this way," a woman's voice. Could there be two female bad guys, I didn't think so. Did that mean that there was one less gun up with Edward and the others? I let the thought go. I had my own problems.

Rocks cascaded down over the overhang like a dry waterfall. At least one of them was coming down directly on top of me. Would the ceiling of the little cave hold the weight? I was already regretting hiding. But the wash stretched open and straight for too far. I'd have never made it to the place where it emptied and there was brush. I just wasn't that fast today. If they thought I'd gone that way and didn't see me, then it would be a good plan. If they turned and spotted me, it was a bad plan. I heard them coming, but the man's voice was right above me. It made me jump. He had to be standing just to the right of the roof. "Jesus, there's Russell." He jumped into the wash and started ru

The woman was more cautious, sliding down into the wash, searching up and down the wash. She was so close, I could have reached out and touched the leg of her jeans. My heart was thundering in my throat, but I'd stopped breathing. I was holding my breath, willing her to go to the men, to walk away, and not look back.

"He's alive," the man said. Then he was up and moving towards the sheath I'd thrown. "She went this way." He went for the brush.

The woman walked towards him.

He was already at the brush, pushing into it.

"Maury, dammit, don't go in there." She had to jog to have any chance of catching him. She didn't look back to see me crouched in the hole. When her broad back vanished into the brush, and I heard the man curse, I crawled out of the hole and started up the slope on all fours. If the woman and Maury came out now, I would be caught like a black speck on a white sheet of paper. But they didn't come, and I made the top of the slope down from where I'd first entered, crawling on my belly to lie under the sage bushes that edged Edward's front yard.

Something slithered off to my right, and it wasn't human. A snake. A snake had slithered away deeper into the bushes. Shit. Thank you, dear God, that it left. One more problem and I was out of solutions. Of course, now every noise seemed to be reptilian, and crawling on my belly through the thick bushes, the smell of sage thick in the hot air was a little slice of nightmare. I kept waiting to hear that dry rattle that would tell me I'd used up all my luck. Every twig that brushed my leg seemed to have scales. The only thing that kept me from screaming was the knowledge that someone would probably shoot me before they knew it was me.

By the time I crawled to the very edge of the bushes one painful inch at a time, I was sweating and it was only partially from heat. The sweat stung on my back, and I knew that some of the thicker trickles were blood and not sweat. I could see the yard through the last screen of sage. Things had not improved.

The woman and the new man, Maury, had left the yard, but three others had taken their places. They had the men on their knees. Olaf had his hands laced on his bald head. Bernardo had his one good hand on his head, and his cast raised as high as he could. Edward was the closest to me. Newt was so close I could have put the knife into his foot. Harold was talking into a cell phone. He was waving one hand and had the rifle slung over one arm. He put the phone away from his mouth, and said, "He says search the house."

"What for?" one of the new men said, he had dark hair and a revolver.

"For an artifact, something the girl used against the monster."

"What kind of artifact?" the dark man asked.

"Just do it," Harold said.

Dark hair grumbled, but he motioned and the two men left to go into the open door of the house. Edward must have unlocked it for them. What the hell had been happening while I was crawling through the bushes?

The three men went into the house. Harold was still talking on the phone. That left just Newt with his.45, and he wasn't even pointing it at anyone's head. It would never get better than this. Any second now the others would come back up the wash or out of the house. I'd have liked to have at least gotten to my knees and plunged the knife into a vital area, but the bushes were too thick. I'd never push to my knees without making all kinds of noise.

If I fired a gun, I'd alert all the others. Shit. I had two knives. I had one idea. I slipped the blade out of my right arm sheath, making sure my left hand had a good grip. Newt's foot was still so temptingly close. I took the invitation, I stabbed the right-hand knife into the foot opposite from his gun. I felt the blade sink into the ground underneath his shoe, as he screamed. I was on my knees behind him, as he tried to twist and bring the gun on me, but he had the gun pointed for someone standing on his left side, and I wasn't there. I plunged the other knife up into his pants, into the front of his pants, my hand between his legs, and I missed. I didn't hit flesh. Fuck. I twitched the blade to the side and felt him, but he wasn't cut. But he was very, very still.

I hissed, "Don't move."

He didn't move. He stayed like some kind of awkward statue.

Harold started walking towards us. "What's wrong, Newt?"

Newt swallowed, and said, "N — nothing. Thought I saw a snake."

I whispered, "Good boy, Newt. If you want to keep the family jewels intact, very quietly hand me your gun." He let the.45 fall into my hand. I was close enough to whisper to Edward, "What do you want me to do?"

"Call Harold over."

"You heard him, Newt," I said.

The man never argued. "Hey, Harold, can you come over here a second?"

Harold sighed, snapping the cell phone shut. "What is it now, Newt?" He was almost even with Edward when he noticed that Newt's gun was gone. I was still hidden behind the larger man's body; even the blade was hidden in the cloth of his pants. "What the hell?"

Bernardo pulled one of the gold chopsticks out of his hair, and it was a blade that ended in Harold's arm. Edward hit him in the gut, doubled him over, and disarmed him. He stood over him with the rifle. Olaf and Bernardo were on their feet. I don't know what the plan would have been next because we heard the sirens. Police sirens.

"Did you call the cops, Harold?" Edward asked.

"Don't be an ass," Harold said.

"Anita," Edward said.

"I didn't call them. I've still got a.45 pointed at you, Newt. Don't get cute." But I withdrew the blade very carefully and stood up. I kept his gun pointed at his back, but I was begi

The three guys came out of the house with their guns in plain sight. They looked to Harold, saw him on the ground, and Edward had the rifle to his shoulder and was sighting down the barrel at them. Their eyes flicked to the cops coming at a fast pace, and back to Edward. They threw their guns down and laced their fingers on their heads without being told. I doubted it was the first time they'd had to do it.