The Second Archon War: Interlude 16

Interlude 16: Don’t Go Into the Woods

Though it was late spring, the trees were coated in ice and frost, and the air was full of mist and snow. The Fatui patrol’s heavy boots crunched through drifts of snow as they made their way through the woods. It was a standard formation: A Pyro Agent led them, with an Anemo Boxer, Geo Chanter, Electro Citin Mage, and Hydro Gunner. None of them were parahumans, but all bore delusions. The five-man squad was the match for most Protectorate Cape teams, and was out on patrol along the northern flank of the Imperial Army. 

“Any sign of hostiles?” the Agent, one Ignat Volkov, asked, his voice gruff as he peered between the trees. 

“Nothing,” Dmitry Volnov, the electro mage said, one of his infused insects buzzing about his head. Then he paused. “Wait. They’re picking up some elemental energy. Not ours.”

“Could be a leftover from the Prince, we’re still in his storm,” Ekaterina Morozova, their Geo Channeler, said. 

“Mmm. Maybe,” Dmitry said with a shrug. “Bugs aren’t sure.”

“We’re not out here to go with maybes. We investigate. I’ll scout ahead,” Ignat said, pulling out his knives. He shimmered away to nothing, though his boot steps were still visible in the snow. 

“Finally, some action,” Alexey Nikitin chuckled, checking his gun. “We’ve been out here for an hour and seen nothing.”

“I like boring patrols,” Zlata Rumyantseva said, flexing her massive armored gauntlets. “No one tries to kill us.”

“Yes, but then we don’t get to kill anyone ourselves,” Alexey laughed. “And that is-”

There was the crack of a rifle, and all the fatui instinctively ducked, save for Ekaterina, who erected a geo barrier, slamming her staff down. They all faced in different directions, looking for the threat, as the echoing report was hard to pinpoint in the misty woods. 

“Fuck. They got the Sergeant,” Dmitry spat, pointing ahead of them. A body was now visible in the snow, with a red stain spreading in the snow. 

“Lucky shot,” Zlata growled, she looked about, then raised her fists and formed a wall of anemo. “I’ll get him.” 

She surged forward, taking long strides until she got to Ignat’s body. She knelt, hosting him over one shoulder, keeping one arm up to ward off further shots. She was just beginning back, when a second shot rang out, taking her in the head from an angle not protected by her barrier. She immediately went boneless, and now two corpses lay in the now bloody snow. 

“What the fuck? That’s just an ordinary rifle!” Alexey gasped. “I recognize the sound! That’s just a Mosin–Nagant!”

Gritting her teeth, Ekaterina said, “Relax, as long as we’re in the Geo Barrier, they can’t-”

A third bark, and a bullet took her right in the heart. Her barrier vanished, and she fell to the ground, her empty eyes wide with shock, blood spilling from her lips. 

Alexey and Dmitry both hit the dirt, trying to burrow down into the snow, their eyes wide with panic. 

“Shit, shit, SHIT!” Alexey gasped, holding his gun up and firing a steam of hydro blindly. “What do we do!?”

“My bugs are trying to find them. Hold,” Dmitry said, but his voice was tight. “It’s a sniper.”

“No shit it’s a sniper! They must think they’re the fucking White Death themselves!”

Good guess. 

Alexey flipped over in time to see a ghostly figure, clad in white and glowing faintly blue, point a M/28-30 rifle at his head. There was a sharp report, and Alexey jerked once, the bullet passing through his skull. 

“No! You! You’re dead! You can't be still alive!” Dmitry cried, and flung a sphere of electro at the ghost. Then watched in horror as it passed through the specter harmlessly. 

The White Death cannot die, the ghost said. The spirit’s face was disfigured, the left side contorted by a wound it had taken in life. Where its eyes should have been, only merciless icy pits remained. 

“No, no, please!” Dmitry gasped, and tried to scramble to his feet, stumbling away from the White Death. 

It calmly raised its rifle, then fired. Dmitry dropped, dead from a single bullet. 

For a moment, the forest was still, save for the buzzing of the electro infused bugs, now released from Dmitry’s control. The ghost scanned the woods, then faded into the mist. There were no bullet casings left behind, no lead found in or near the bodies of the slain. The White Death left no trace, save for the corpses it left in its wake. 

More Fatui patrols vanished, and many fatui officers were found dead from a single gunshot wound. Multiple times, The Witch or the Thief hunted down and banished the specter, only for it to reform hours or days later. This was not Simo Häyhä. That man had died in 2001, earlier than he did in Earth Aleph, where he passed six months later in 2002. This was the Spirit of Finland, the spirit of resistance. The memories and rage of a nation, given form. 

Ghosts now walked blood-stained battlefields. And they were hungry. 

“Goooood morning, boyos! It’s another fan-tastic summer day in good ole Finland! Who’s up for a walk in the woods? Maybe we’ll earn a merit badge for being such good scouts!” 

Sighing, Carlo looked up from his coffee as the freckle-faced ray of sunshine known as Shamrock strolled into the mess tent, a wide grin on her face. How the hell she was so peppy at 0300 in the damn morning baffled him. Still, it was hard to stay grouchy at her. “Buenos dias, Katie.” 

“It is a good day to die,” Gregor the Snail grumbled. Unlike the rather pretty Katie “Shamrock” O’Brian, Gregor the Snail was a hideous man. He had translucent skin that was encrusted with bits of shell like a bad case of acne, and was morbidly obese to boot. He could also secrete a number of chemicals from his body, from adhesives, to acids, to even a flame retardant foam. He was also incredibly durable, and nearly immune to all blunt force trauma. Depending on the chemicals he produced, he could even resist some elemental reactions. 

“I disagree, Mr. Worf! Ain’t no day that’s a good day to die, because livin’ is just too much fun!” Katie laughed, taking a seat to Gregor’s life. She nudged the giant bug monster to the other side of her. “And how are you doing today, Roach?” 

The response was clicking mandibles, and then an awkward thumbs up from Roach. The man, or well, thing really, didn’t talk much, mostly because he didn’t have a mouth that could replicate human speech. It was a bit odd to see what amounted to an enormous cockroach eating scrambled eggs and hashbrowns with a fork like the rest of them, but it did seem appropriate. He might look like a bug, but Roach was a solid and reliable teammate, who had saved Carlo’s ass with his odd sensory abilities more than once. 

“Hey, Carlo. What’s the weather today?” Katie asked brightly. 

“Hmm, let me see,” Carlo made a show of peering through the mess tent flap to the blackness behind. “Well, looks like shit again. Mostly cloudy with a chance of Fatui. And pray there is no Harbinger in the forecast.”

“A sentiment we can all agree with, Pavo. But alas, it’s time to rumble with the Ruskies again!” 

“Mornin’ LT!” Katie said brightly as the last member of their squad joined them. 

“No need to be so formal,” their leader said with a smile, setting her mouse-eared helmet down on the table. “It might be cheesy, but I consider you guys family! Just call me MP, or Mina. Just don’t call me late for dinner!” 

The most senior member of the squad, Lieutenant Mina “Mouse Protector” Fieldman, was an old school cape, so old school that she’d been one of the original Wards way back in ‘94.  She was only a couple of years older than Carlo, but she’d had her powers for over a decade, while he’d gotten his less than a month ago. He’d barely finished training before being shipped off to Finland to fight the Tsaritsa. 

Even an old-school cape, or perhaps especially an old-school cape, was unprepared for the sort of war the Protectorate found itself embroiled in. This wasn’t heroes and villains clashing in the streets, or bank robberies and drug deals. This was a vicious, bloody, and brutal campaign of conquest, fought between people wielding powers that mortals were not meant to have. 

“We should respect the chain of command, yeah?” Gregor said in his gurgly voice. He had an odd accent, somewhat reminiscent of what the locals sounded like, actually, but he was a Protectorate cape from the Case 53 Program, the same as Roach and Shamrock. That was the designation for capes who as a result of their trigger event, suffered some sort of memory loss. Shamrock was an edge case: most 53s were horrifically disfigured with their biology dramatically altered. 

As far as Carlo could tell, Shamrock was a perfectly ordinary woman, albeit one you did not want to play cards with. She had what the egg heads called a “probability alteration field” and everyone else called super luck. The most unlikely of events always seemed to happen around Shamrock, though that could be a double-edged sword since that meant good and bad things. 

In contrast, Carlo was a result of the PATRIOT program, the Parahuman Augmentation and Tactical Response through Induced Organic Transmutation. That was a fancy way of saying he’d been shot up with a vial at a Protectorate medical facility that had created an artificial trigger event. The powers he’d gotten were top shelf: Standard Alexandria Package, though not nearly so potent as hers. He could lift up to one and a half tons and fly at speeds of up to 150mph, which was rather impressive, but put him as a middle-rank Parahuman. He only had Brute and Mover powers, no Thinker or Blaster rating that could have helped him stand out. 

“We’re not really the military,” Carlo said with a shrug. “If the Lieutenant wants us to call her Mina, well, I’m just following orders, no?” 

“Exactly, thank you, Carlo,” Mina said with a wink at him. Then she sobered. “We’ve got a real wingdinger today though, folks. We’re going to have to stick our whiskers way out in the cold for this one.” 

Taking out a topographic map of the area, Mina unrolled it on the table as the others moved aside their breakfast trays. It showed the surrounding area, north east of Porvoo. They were getting close to Helsinki, with everything the Protectorate and Knights could do only slowing down the inexorable assault of what seemed like endless waves of Fatui, backed by three Harbingers. 

“Something’s got the Fatui spooked, and it’s not us,” Mouse Protector said, tracing a line north of the road. “The chatter we’re picking up says that their patrols are disappearing, and they’re blaming something called ‘The White Death.’” 

“I heard about that,” Carlo commented. “We sure old Simo is dead? Didn’t come out of the nursing home to bag a few more Russians?” 

Mina shook her head. “He is, but his rifle is missing. Could be someone stole it, but word from command is that they had it locked up tight, and it just up and disappeared. A few of our patrols claim to have seen a spectral figure stalking the woods. The groups they’ve sent to look for it have turned up empty. So they’re hoping we’ll get lucky.”

“Aw shucks, do you mean little old me?” Katie said, batting her eyes at Mina.

The Lieutenant, however, nodded soberly. “We do. We’re hoping whatever you do to probability will work in our favor, and we’ll track down this supposed ghost. At the very least, if they have Simo’s rifle, the Finns want it, badly. That thing is storied enough to be scary. Especially since it’s claimed to have killed 500 Russians.” 

Unconsciously, Carlo’s hand went to the Model 1860 Heavy Cavalry Saber at his hip. It had been first wielded by Lieutenant Ezra J. Harlan, an officer in the 6th Pennsylvania Cavalry. Ezra had taken part in several battles in the Civil War before dying at the Battle of Gettysburg, his weapon was recovered and sent to his family. His grandson, Corporal Jerom T Harlan, used it in the Spanish-American War as a member of the famous Rough Riders, and it had been used again by Major Matthew E Harlan in the trenches of World War 1, before being donated to the Gettysburg Museum of History after Major Matthew died without a son of the Spanish Flu.

From there, the Protectorate had picked up the blade, along with every other weapon of historical significance large or small in the entire country. Carlo had been issued the weapon by a historian who had drilled into him the historical significance of the weapon and its various wielders. Sometimes, when he used the weapon in battle, Carlo could feel the spirits of the various wielders. It sent goosebumps down his spine and made him wonder if his brother Diego had the right of things with the shrine he maintained to the Our Lady of Zapopan. Even if she had spectacularly failed to save Guadalajara from the Behemoth. 

“A stroll in the woods just like Katie asked for. Should be a balmy summer day,” Carlo said in chipper tones. 

“If this is the summer, I’d hate to see the winter,” Gregor muttered, and Roach clacked his mandibles, a sign that he agreed with what was said. 

“We’ll venture out of our hole, take a peak, and hope the cats don’t pounce on us. Maybe we’ll get the cheese while we’re at it,” Mina said, and crammed her helmet on her head. “Alrighty folks, let’s scamper on out!”

Outside the tent, the air was a frigid -2°F, despite being nearly May. The sky was overcast, and snow drifted down glowing with an unnatural light. The entire Scandinavian peninsula had been covered in a great blizzard upon the decree of the Princess. Apparently, she had something called a “gnosis” that allowed her broad-scale weather control nearly on the level of her mother. 

Carlo lifted into the sky, putting a finger to his radio. “Mic check. Can you read me?”

“Loud and clear, Carl! Have fun!” Katie said brightly. 

“Copy, Pavo,” Mina said, and the others echoed her. 

The “Pavo” made Carlo grin. As an old school cape, Mina had insisted that they all get cape names, despite the fact that more and more that wasn’t how the Protectorate operated. Carlo didn’t even wear a mask, instead having a see-through visor on his helmet just to keep the wind and snow out of his face as he flew. 

He stayed above the squad as they ventured out into the woods, avoiding roads and open fields. Even this close to the NATO lines, you never knew when you stumbled across the Fatui. Burned out buildings, shattered tree stumps, and broken vehicles showed where clashes had taken place, though the bodies had been mostly removed. The Protectorate zealously grabbed any Fatui corpses they could, especially if they had an intact Delusion. Carlo hadn’t earned one himself, though Mina had an Anemo one. She had to use is sparingly, as they apparently drained your life force. 

A price worth paying in Carlo’s opinion. Dying at the age of 40 instead of 80 sounded appealing when Carlo could very easily end up dead at 21 from a Fatui’s ambush if he didn’t use every scrap of power he had. 

After two hours, they hadn’t seen any sign of the Fatui, which Carlo largely attributed to Shamrock’s luck. With the horrible weather, however, that didn’t mean their enemies weren’t close by. Carlo had to keep low, no more than a few meters above the trees, as the constant mists and darkness meant he couldn’t see very far. 

He was just scouting ahead when he came to what looked like a very recent battlefield. Several trees had been knocked down, and there were corpses surrounded by fresh blood in the snow. 

“Contact!” he hissed into his radio. “Looks like an entire fatui patrol, dead. And something knocked down a bunch of trees.”

“Hold position!” Mina ordered. “Roach, Shamrock, move up ahead. Snail, stick with me. Ears and whiskers up, people!” 

Carlo ducked down behind a treetop, and kept his eyes open for movement. He didn’t see anything moving, but studied the battlefield carefully. The snow had been churned up, along with the earth, and there were a great many prints from what looked like a horse all around. Indeed, the bodies now that Carlo studied them more closely seemed to have been trampled to death in most cases, though one seemed to have been driven through a tree, as the fatuus has been impaled on the branches of a now knocked-down pine. 

The rest of the squad moved up, and Carlo dropped down beside Mina, who was crouched behind a tree. 

“Anything?” she whispered to him, and he silently shook his head. 

Mina nibbled on her thumb for a moment, then slowly stood. “Alright, we move forward and fan out. Roach, see if you can figure out what did this.”

The bug monster scrambled forward on all six limbs, antennae waving over the fallen bodies while the rest of the squad advanced to the other side of the clearing.

“Hey, LT! Look here,” Shamrock called, and Mina went over to investigate while Carlo flew back up to scan for whatever had done this above them. He could just barely make out their hushed voices on the wind. 

“Tracks go off that way. Not real subtle, whatever did this was big, and angry,” Katie said. 

Mina bent to study the trampled ground, then nodded. “What do you think, moose, maybe?”

“I’m no hunter, but the tracks seem a bit big for a moose. And there’s an awful lot of them. Plus…do you really think one moose could take out a whole fatui patrol? I know one messed up a couple of our guys last week, but they were just regular GI Joes, not capes.”

“Yeah, something about this doesn’t seem right… OK, people, huddle up! “

Carlo dropped down as Gregor and Roach huddled around Mina, though Carlo kept an eye out for more fatui, or whatever had done this. 

“Right, I’m thinking we got an enlightened beast on our hands,” Mina said. “Or, potentially, something really nasty wandered all the way over from the Storm Range. That seems suspect, but we’ve been hearing stories of real monsters over there,” Mina said, her voice low but firm. “Either way, we need to track it and see what it is. If it’s an uplifted animal, we need to recruit it. There’s only a handful on record, but they’re all dangerously powerful, from that Kitsune and her Tanuki in Japan, to Ziz the Owl who threw down with the Prince and lived. So if it’s a potential ally, we need to find it.”

“And if it is a nasty beast, we need to kill it. Joy,” Gregor sighed. 

“Eh, if it stays in Fatui territory we leave it the hell alone because it’s solving our problems for us. But let’s just hope it’s a nice fluffy moose friend,” Mina said with a smile. 

“Your optimism does you credit, Mina, but I think perhaps we should plan for Gregor’s monster,” Carlo said with an answering grimace. 

“True enough! Alright, let’s keep on alert so we can make it back to our hole in one piece,” Mina ordered. 

They fanned out and followed the tracks for half a mile before they came to a frozen lake. The tracks ended there, though there was some broken ice that indicated whatever it was had gone out onto the ice. 

“What do we do?” Carlo asked, grimacing at the clear air over the lake. There was no cover, and if the Fatui were watching, he’d be a sitting, well, peacock. 

“Hmm. I don’t like this. Smells like a mousetrap,” Mina said, rubbing the tip of her nose and grimacing. “Ok. Here’s what we do: Shamrock, Snail, Roach: you take the eastern side. Pavo, you’re with me on the Western bank. We meet up at the northern edge. It’s only about a mile long on my map, and half a mile wide. Keep in radio contact.” 

“Copy,” Carlo agreed and dropped down into the snow by Mina’s side as the others moved off. Something in the chill air was making the hairs on the back of his neck stand up, and Carlo unsheathed his sword. 

“Your whiskers twitching too?” Mina asked quietly as they began to creep through the trees at the edge of the lake. 

“Something like that,” Carlo agreed, noting that Mina had unslung her sword and shield, which was emblazoned with a stylized mouse with bristling whiskers. 

“You know, I never asked, but why didn’t they give you a historic blade?” Carlo whispered as they moved. 

Mina grinned and held up her sword. “They told me I’ve used this one so much that it’s started to collect memories, and that I’m popular enough that people have started to believe it’s something special! It’s actually a replica of Martin the Warrior’s sword.”

“Martin the Warrior?” Carlo frowned, the name was unfamiliar. “What war did he fight in?” 

Mina blushed quite prettily, looking embarrassed. She was rather cute, in, well, a mousy sort of way. Normally not the sort of girl Carlo looked at twice, but he was growing fond of his Lieutenant. Endless mouse puns and all. 

“Um, he didn’t. It’s from my favorite novel, Redwall. Martin was the legendary protector of Redwall Abbey and a great Warrior Mouse. He’s, well, he’s sort of who I named myself after. That’s him on my shield. That’s why my sword says  ‘AM THAT IS.’”

“Really? And here, I took you for a Disney lover,” Carlo chuckled. 

“Oh, I did love Disney too! Bet you can’t guess my favorite movie!”

“The Great Mouse Detective?” 

“Close. The Rescuers. I- WOAH!” 

Both froze as they stepped into a clearing, where what Carlo had first taken to be a clump of trees turned towards them. It was shaped like a moose, but far, far larger, closer to the size of an elephant. The antlers were so big they could have cradled a small car, though they looked to be grown from wood rather than horn. The thing's head was a bare skull, with glowing red eyes. The body was made from what looked like bark, and it had six legs, spindly and ending in stumps of wood. 

“What the fuck,” Carlo breathed. 

The monster stomped its hooves, then charged, snorting out a billow of black smoke as it did so. 

Reflexively, Carlo grabbed Mina around the waist and shot up into the air, out of the demon moose’s path. It barreled right through two trees, a bugling cry that sounded like a damned soul echoing from the skull. Carlo shot up to above the trees, Mina clinging to him tightly, eyes wide with terror. The two watched, hovering above the beast as it stomped and circled. Thankfully, it didn’t look up, and Carlo decided it was time to be anywhere else. 

He flew back the way they’d come, speeding along, pressing Mina close to him. She was trembling, and he didn’t think it was the icy wind. Hell, he was shivering. Whatever that thing was, it was completely terrifying. 

“Squad, retreat,” Mina said, her voice quavering more than a little. “Fall back beyond the battleground, double time!  We have a…a demon moose on our hands.”

“Demon moose?” Katie’s voice asked. Then she squawked. “Greg! What are you-”

“Boss says fall back, demon moose. We fall back,” Gregor’s voice said stoically. 

“Put me down! I can walk!”

“I am putting you down when we are retreated. Roach, keep up.”

Carlo found Gregor, who was carrying Katie in both arms as he barreled through the woods. For a fat guy, he really could move when he wanted to. Roach was scuttling along beside him, antennae waving frantically. 

Gregor did not set Katie down when they got to the battlefield, and Carlo didn’t put Mina down either. She didn’t ask to be set down, so he simply kept flying above Gregor, making for the base camp as quickly as they could. They made excellent time, and thankfully didn’t encounter any Fatui along the way. 

The demon moose had probably killed them all, anyway. 

When they arrived back at camp, Carlo hovered above the entrance, holding Mina, who still had her arms wrapped about him. 

“You can put me down now, you know,” she said, but she was pressing herself against him and didn’t sound terribly urgent. 

“I could,” he allowed. He stayed hovering though, and Mina didn’t seem to mind. “LT…have you ever seen anything like that thing?”

Mina swallowed and nodded. “Once. I fought an abomination made by Pater. Before she defected, when she was called Bonesaw. It was…it was a lot like that thing.”

“I see,” Karlo said. He shuddered. “I do not think I will sleep well tonight.”

“Me neither. But I’ve got to make my report. So…put me down. For now.”

Carlo complied, and Mina walked over to Gregor, who was doubled over and panting, with Katie rubbing his back. “Good work. Go get some hot cheese and some bunk time. Who knows when the next battle will be.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Katie agreed. She looked over at Carlo, her brow furrowed. “What was that…demon moose?”

“It was…well it was a demon moose monster thing,” Mina said, putting her hands on her head like a pair of antlers. “You know. Grrrr.”

“It had no face, just a skull, and seemed to have been grown from wood, and had six legs. There was a body in the snow where we found it, and it had blood on its teeth. I think it was eating one of its victims,” Carlo said. 

Katie turned green, and Roach waved his antenna in a disconcerting fashion. Gregor looked like that was exactly what he had expected. 

“Demon moose. Boss is smart. We run,” Gregor wheezed. He managed to straighten and salute. “Good mission. No one died.”

“No one died,” Mina said with a shaky laugh. She turned to Carlo. “Maybe you’d better come and help me make that report. You noticed a lot more than I did.”

“Of course,” he agreed. 

They reported to an exhausted Finnish Colonel and a Favonian Captain along with Legend. The Colonel nodded and said, “Hiiden hirvi.” 

“That is?” Legend asked. 

The colonel considered, then shrugged. “Demon moose.”

“And they’re just real now?” Carlo asked, feeling a bit sick. 

The Finn shrugged again. “It lures hunters to the underworld. If it kills Fatui, I see no reason to hunt it.”

“Right…” Mina said, looking as sick as Carlo felt. 

“Good work, Lieutenant. You and your squad get some rest. The Fatui are preparing a major offensive to take Helsinki, and we need to push them back. Maybe this…demon moose…will help buy us some time,” Legend told them. “Dismissed.”

“Yes, sir, General,” Mina said, and saluted crisply. Carlo copied the gesture, then followed her out of the command tent, and all the way back to her own tent. 

“Um, this is my tent, so…good night,” Mina said, turning and blushing up at Carlo. 

He smiled at her. He’d always been good with women. Very good, in fact. He knew how to make them smile, make them laugh. Charm them. “It is your tent. I think you said you wouldn’t get much sleep tonight.”

“No, I…probably won’t,” Mina said with a shudder.

Carlo stepped in closer, putting a hand to Mina’s chin. Her breath caught, and he leaned in, kissing her gently. “I will not either. Perhaps we could not sleep together.”

She groaned softly, putting a hand to his chest. “Carlo…”

“Mina,” he whispered and nibbled at her ear.

“Carlo!”

He paused, the note in her voice a clear rejection. “Something wrong?”

“You’re…in my chain of command,” Mina said, gently stepping back. “I…I would like to spend the night, but…look. Maybe after all this is over. But not now. It wouldn’t be right.”

“Pah. The chain of command? That doesn’t matter. We’re all just soldiers, and the night is cold.”

“It matters to me, Carlo. So…no. Not tonight. But…maybe someday. I like you, a lot, actually. But…not when you’re under my command. That would make things…hard.”

Carlo felt a surge of irritation at that. He never liked rejection, especially not from a pretty woman. But he bowed his head and nodded. “Of course, Lieutenant.”

“Mina. Please. Just Mina,” she said. Then, biting her lip, she stepped in quickly, and pecked Carlo on the cheek. “Thank you, Carlo. For saving my life tonight.”

“Any time, Mina. Buenos noches, mi amor.”

“Good night, handsome.”

Then, Mina went into her tent alone. Carlo stood in the cold for a moment, then shrugged and went back to the tent he shared with Gregor and Roach. He was just about to go in when he heard a moan and gasp, then a grunt, along with some wet slapping noises. He looked around and found Roach beckoning to him. He went over, and the bug man handed him a steaming cup.

“Katie and Gregor?” he asked incredulously. 

Roach waved his arms in an approximation of a shrug. 

“Huh. Who’d have thought that ugly bastard would get laid before me,” Carlo mused. 

Roach tilted his head to one side and flexed his mandibles, which Carlo took for a question. 

“The Lieutenant is quite pretty, don’t you think? But, alas, she has a strong moral compass. Won’t sleep with a subordinate,” Carlo said with a chuckle. 

Roach’s antenna waved a positive, and Carlo shrugged, sipping the drink before it cooled. It turned out to be rather sweet hot chocolate. Not something he normally favored, but it was nice in the chill air. 

After about 15 minutes, Katie poked her head out of the tent. “We’re finished and I’m decent. Thanks for waiting, boys.”

Carlo nodded, and he and Roach went into the tent. Gregor was sitting up, dressed only in his boxers and looking embarrassed. “This is not causing problems, yes?”

“Good for you, man,” Carlo said, and offered a fist to Gregor, who bumped it. 

“I know, I know, he’s way out of my league, but how could a girl resist this handsome lug?” Katie said, laying down atop Gregor and wrapping them both in a blanket. She hesitated, then asked, “Seriously, we’re cool?”

“Just put a sock on the door when you want to get busy, and we’re fine. I can understand not wanting to sleep alone,” Carlo told them, then stripped out of his clothes and hastily changed, not caring if Katie saw. They were a team, and why should he care if the people who he depended on for his very life saw his bare ass? 

After that, he wrapped himself in his blanket and lay on his cot. Despite what he’d said, he did manage to fall asleep, even if his dreams were haunted by a demonic moose. What was the world coming to? Where had that…hiden..hervaz or whatever come from? Diego might have known. He liked old stories like that. 

I should write him, Carlo thought before he drifted off. 

He never did, though. Grudges ran deep in the hearts of men. 

And when they did, their demons arose from their ancestral memories to express that anger. Finland was merely the first place the Leylines began to run rampant. It would not be the last. 

Author’s Note:

Originally, the leader of Carlo’s Squad was going to be Faultline. However, Faultline at this point is probably still a teenager and hasn’t triggered yet. Thus, it’s time for fan favorite Mouse Protector to step in! 

…let’s just hope she manages to keep far, far away from Pater. 

Anyway, if you’re wondering…

Demon moose.