Apocalypse: Every Woman I Invest In Makes Me Stronger

The Horned-Scale Beast threw its head back and roared.

The sound hit the Museum like a shove. It was not only loud. Something rode under it, a pulse that struck the mind as hard as the ears. Every pane of glass left in the building rattled at once. Display cases trembled. Loose shards danced on the floors. Metal frames groaned.

Above the shattered dome, the Tiger King lifted its head. Amber eyes narrowed to slits. For several seconds neither beast moved. Then a flash of crimson burned across the tiger’s pupils. Angry. Done being challenged.

It lowered its body. Muscle bunched under scarred black fur. Then it launched.

What was left of the glass under its paws shattered. The Tiger King dropped through the opening and crashed onto the sixth floor hard enough to crack the marble. Cracks raced out in every direction. Dust exploded through the painting gallery and swallowed it. Two amber eyes opened inside the cloud. It stepped forward. Dust in the mane. Loose strands of fur. Jaws open, long curved fangs. A low growl rolled through the gallery, and the pressure off its body was suffocating even through the Survival Space.

Not an ordinary mutant. Quasi-King. And it was finished waiting.

The Horned-Scale Beast answered from the frame. The neck wound had already closed most of the way. Fresh black scales grew over the damaged flesh and caught the moonlight like wet metal. Its tail snapped through the air.

Whoosh.

The tiger caught the sweep with a foreleg.

Boom.

The shock threw display cases across the room. Glass hit the walls. Paintings tore out of their frames. Bronze pieces rolled and clanged over the cracked floor. The two monsters pushed. Neither gave an inch. Then the tiger twisted and shoved the beast back. Claws gouged the marble. It recovered at once. The tail split. Black bone spurs shot at the tiger’s belly.

The tiger twisted aside. Most of the spikes bounced off the fur. One got through the outer layer and drew a thin line of blood. That was enough. It lunged. Jaws clamped the hind leg.

Crunch.

The beast screamed. The tiger tore its head sideways and ripped scales free with a chunk of flesh. Black blood hit the floor. Gold from the tiger’s cut mixed with it and ran down the broken stairs.

The fight moved. Then the fifth floor disappeared under them. Both bodies crashed through the ceiling.

Boom.

Ethan watched from inside the Space as the battle dropped through the Museum a floor at a time. Sixth. Fifth. Fourth. Each impact sounded like an earthquake. Walls came down. Cases burst. Marble pillars cracked. The worst of it was the people still inside. Some were crushed under debris. Some went under the beasts’ feet. A few made side rooms. Most never got the chance.

By the time the two monsters reached the first floor, the building was already coming apart. The Horned-Scale Beast slammed in. The tiger twisted. Their momentum carried them straight through the western wall. The wall went in a thunderous collapse. Both beasts rolled across the plaza, tearing pavement, and finally separated.

Neither stayed down. The tiger rose first. The beast a heartbeat later. They charged again.

Ethan felt the seal change with the beast’s energy. Sometimes weaker. Sometimes stronger. Never gone. Teleportation stayed trapped behind it. He still could not lock the Anchor in the air-raid shelter.

Outside, the plaza had become a second war. Hundreds of mutant bats filled the sky, one black mass, swarming eight mutated peacocks. The peacocks spread their tails. Red beams shot from the feathers. One beam tore the swarm and dropped several bats. The swarm closed again. Claws in wings. Fangs in feathers. Blue and black drifted like confetti at a funeral. Mutant wolves joined, leaping through the mess and snapping whenever they found an opening.

Howls. Screeches. Wingbeats. The shrill cries of things already dying. Under all of it, the two monsters in the plaza.

Farther out, Golden Snub-nosed Monkeys had hit the native mutants. Stones and broken metal. A goat charged with its horns down. A monkey leaped aside and slammed steel into the skull. Another goat rammed a monkey and sent it tumbling. A python had two monkeys wrapped. A larger one rushed in and bit the exposed neck. The python twisted. The monkey did not let go. The knot of them rolled through dust and blood.

They were not fighting at random. The natives were defending ground. Tiger King, bats, monkeys: invaders. Anything that did not belong could die.

Ethan stared at the screen. ”They’re too busy fighting.” His face hardened. ”This is our chance.”

Elena understood. ”What are you planning?”

”I’m going outside.” He pointed at the screen. ”If the seal is slipping because of that fight, I need to know whether teleportation works.”

”No.” She grabbed his arm. ”That’s too dangerous. There are animals everywhere.”

He did not pull away. He looked at the oxygen count. ”The diesel won’t last forever.”

She went quiet.

”The fuel we’re burning for air is about six days.” His eyes stayed on the screen. ”We have to get out before then. Otherwise it doesn’t matter if the monsters kill us. We’ll suffocate in here.”

Aria stepped forward. ”I’ll go with you. I can put vines between you and them.”

”No.”

”Why?”

”I need to move fast.” He looked at the women around him. ”If this goes wrong, you staying here is the place I come back to.”

She frowned. ”I’m not helpless.”

”I know. That’s why I need you here.”

She opened her mouth. Stopped.

He took a breath. ”I’ll come back.” He did not know if that was true. There was no point saying otherwise.

He closed his eyes. Space rippled. His body left the Survival Space.

The smell hit him the moment he was outside. Blood. Rot. Burned flesh. Animal musk, thick enough to turn his stomach. He breathed through his mouth. The plaza was barely a plaza. Broken stone. Concrete. Bodies. Blood in the cracks of the pavement. He kept to the Museum wall. Every instinct said do not stand in the open.

He moved toward the collapsed western entrance and reached for the Anchor.

There. Faint. The moment he tried to lock it, something pushed back. An invisible wall inside space itself. He tried again. Nothing. The coordinates were there. He could feel them. He could not trigger the jump.

”Still blocked.” Barely a whisper.

He would have to get farther from the Museum. He crouched, ready to sprint the gap in the wall.

Then something struck his mind. Not his body. A shock inside the skull. His vision went black. His knees buckled. He caught the wall and, for half a second, heard nothing.

Sight came back. A streetlight stood on the eastern side of the plaza. Something was crouched on top of it. A Golden Snub-nosed Monkey. This one held a rifle. Crimson eyes fixed on him. The mouth had twisted into a smile.

Ethan’s hand found the sword. That monkey. The one with the mental attack.