Last Stand of Dead Men

He looked up at her. “Call me a flaming drongo.”

She laughed. “No I will not.”

“Ah, go on. Please?”

She sighed. “I don’t know the rules and neither do you, yeh flamin’ drongo.”

He bit his lip. “I love it when you call me that.”

“You’re so weird.”

She started to straighten up, but he took hold of her arm and pulled her down on top of him. She laughed and squirmed until she was lying across his lap, and then she said, “I love you.”

Fletcher nodded. “Yup.”

“Yup?”

“Hmm?”

She sat up, turned to him. “I say I love you and you say yup?”

“Uh,” he said, “you just … took me by surprise. That’s all. I wasn’t expecting it. This isn’t something I expected. This is kind of … y’know? A big deal, is what I’m saying. It’s a big deal.”

“I love you, Fletcher.”

“Yes, excellent, and to you I say … wow. That’s really great. I’m a lucky, lucky guy.”

Myra stood. “Oh, God.”

“Now, Myra …”

She shook her head. “It’s fine. You don’t have to … I’m not asking you to say it back to me, I’m just saying it because I’m feeling it and sometimes when you feel something you have to say it so … I’ll go check on the muffins.”

She hurried into the kitchen and Fletcher stood. “Myra, wait, come on.”

The doorbell rang.

“Could you get that?” Myra called.

“Don’t be upset with me. I’m in shock right now, that’s all. I don’t know what I’m—”

The doorbell again.

“Fletch, please, just answer the door.”

Cursing himself for his stupidity, Fletcher went to the door and pulled it open. A pretty girl stood there, brown hair tied back, wearing jeans and a leather jacket. Behind her stood a Maori in a ripped T-shirt and with a tattoo on the left side of his grinning face.

“Kia ora, bro,” said Tane Aiavao.

Hayley Skirmish pushed past Fletcher, into the apartment. Immediately she began snooping around. Tane came in after her, shutting the door behind him.

“Don’t worry about her,” he said. “She’s just doing her I have no social graces thing. How’ve you been? You’re looking good. Are those muffins I smell?”

There was a scream from the kitchen and Myra came running out, Hayley walking behind her, gun in hand.

In the blink of an eye Fletcher was standing between them. “Put it down, Hayley.”

“She’s got a gun!” Myra screeched.

Hayley almost looked bored. “I walked into the kitchen to find your girlfriend brandishing a weapon.”

Fletcher turned to Myra. “Weapon?”

“A spatula!” Myra cried. “It was a spatula!”

“In the hands of a trained killer,” said Hayley, “a spatula can be deadly.”

“Or a really bad chef,” chortled Tane, but everyone ignored him.

Myra clung to Fletcher’s arm. “Who are these people? Are these magic people? You said you weren’t going to bring magic people over here.”

“I didn’t,” Fletcher said, trying to calm her down. “I don’t know what they’re doing here, but I’m sure they’ll tell us. Myra, the girl with the gun is Hayley. The big guy is Tane.”

“Pleased to finally meet you,” Tane said, smiling. “It’s weird, we’ve been spying on you for so long it feels like we already know you.”

Myra’s eyes widened. “You’ve been spying on me?”

“Yeah,” said Tane, then he looked worried. “But not in a creepy way. Tell her, Hayley.”

“The way he spied on you was a little creepy,” Hayley said, “but we were just doing our job. We were assigned to act as your invisible bodyguards in case all this war business got out of hand.”

Fletcher frowned. “So what’s happened?”

“It got out of hand.”

“We’ve been told to bring you both to the Sanctuary,” said Tane. “As the last Teleporter, Fletcher here could be a target and, if he’s a target, then you’re a target.”

Myra’s mouth dropped open. “Someone wants to kill me?”

“Maybe. Or maybe they’ll try to kidnap you and use you as bait. We don’t know. We only know what our Sanctuaries told us. Or rather, what Hayley’s Sanctuary told her. The Sanctuary in New Zealand has gone all quiet.”

“They might be plotting against us,” Hayley said to Fletcher. “We might not be able to trust Tane. We should hit him until he loses consciousness.”

Tane sighed. “Any excuse …”

“How long will we be gone?” Fletcher asked. “Myra has college and a job, and I … Myra has college.”

“We’ll sort all that stuff out when we get to the Sanctuary,” said Hayley. “Grand Mage Karrik said we should waste no time, so … Ready to teleport?”

Myra blinked back tears. All things considered, she was handling this pretty well. “But I have to pack,” she said quietly.

“No time,” said Hayley.

“We’ll wait,” said Tane, giving Myra a smile.

Myra hurried into the bedroom, and Hayley glared at Tane. “You’re just delaying to give yourself more time to strike.”

“I’m not going to strike,” he responded. “I’m way too scared of you.”

She glowered. “Secure the door.”

He frowned. “How?”

Fletcher left them to their squabbling and went into the kitchen. He turned the oven off and took the muffins out. They weren’t done yet. With a heavy heart, he dumped them in the bin.

He took his phone from his pocket and stood there, leaning against the worktable, looking at it. Finally, he dialled, and held it to his ear.

“Hi,” Valkyrie said when she picked up. “You’ve heard, then.”

“Hayley and Tane have just come over,” he said. “Karrik wants us taken in. Sounds like protective custody or something. Myra, too.”

“Makes sense. Everyone’s going nuts.”

“So there is definitely a war, then?”

“Apparently so. You’d probably be better off with us, to be honest. I mean, it wouldn’t be safer, in fact, it’d be a thousand times more dangerous, but you’d be of a lot more use here than there. I mean, that’s if you wanted to get involved, like.”

“I do,” he said quickly, “and you’re right. But I can’t leave Myra on her own surrounded by sorcerers. She’s only met you and a few others. She hasn’t met the weird ones yet. I’m afraid she’d freak out if I wasn’t there.”

“Yeah, fair enough.”

“She said she loves me.”

“Sorry?”

“Myra. She said she loves me.”

“What did you say?”

“I said yup.”

“Smooth.”

“We’ve only been going out six months. I mean, I didn’t expect … you know.”

“Right.”

“So what do you think I should do?”

“I’m not sure,” Valkyrie said. “Maybe get your priorities straight?”

He smiled. “You are a great help.”

He could practically see her nodding. “Best ex-girlfriend ever. Have to go now. Things are happening.”

“Aren’t they always? Stay safe.”

“You too.” He hung up, and went out to the living room.

Tane was flicking through the TV channels. “Hayley’s helping Myra pack,” he said without looking up. “Or that’s what she claims. She’s probably in there threatening her.”

“That sounds more like Hayley,” Fletcher agreed. He sat on the armrest. “So what side do you come down on? Australia’s a Cradle of Magic so everyone expects it to side with Ireland, but what about New Zealand?”

“You got me,” Tane said with a shrug. “We’re on the same page as the Aussies on a lot of things, but this is different. This is about world safety. And let’s face it, the Grand Mages of New Zealand and Australia do not get along.”

“So I’ve heard. But do you think your Sanctuary would side with the Supreme Council just because of a personal disagreement?”

“Stupider things have happened.”

There was a knock on the door.

“Expecting anyone?” Tane asked, getting to his feet.

“No,” said Fletcher, “but then I wasn’t expecting you, either. Hold on.”

Fletcher teleported outside and down the corridor, looking back up to the apartment door. A man stood there, waiting for the door to open.

“One man,” Fletcher said as he teleported back beside the sofa, “no visible weapons. Looks normal.”

“That’s the best way for an assassin to look,” Tane said. “I’ll get Hayley, she’ll know what to do. You keep your eye on the door.”

Tane hurried towards Myra’s bedroom. The man knocked again, then rang the doorbell. Fletcher teleported to the storage locker he rented in New Jersey, grabbed the baseball bat from the rack of weapons, and teleported back to the apartment. He held it in a two-handed grip, ready to swing. Then he turned, looking at the window behind him. A guy knocking on the door could be the distraction, allowing the second assassin to abseil down from the roof and crash through the glass, throwing ninja stars and grenades and things.

A brown envelope slid under the door.

Fletcher crouched, teleported to the door, grabbed the envelope, and teleported back. It was addressed to Myra. It looked like an electricity bill. He turned it over. Scrawled on this side was Delivered to us by mistake!

He crept to the door, pressed his eye to the peephole, just in time to see Myra’s neighbour shuffling back to his own apartment.

“Who was it?” Myra asked, walking up beside him.

“Mr Sakamoto,” he said, smiling, “who really isn’t all that scary once you see how slow he moves. Ready to go?”

Myra said something and his body snapped away from the door and he fell, convulsing. Pain seized his mind. His legs kicked. His arms curled, fingers clutching at nothing, his muscles contracting with each spasm that shot through him. He tried to tell her to run, but his jaw was locked, his tendons straining against his skin. Run. Run. Why wasn’t she running? She was kneeling over him, speaking, but he couldn’t make out the words. Then she stood, put something on the hall table and stepped over him, heading for the kitchen.

The thing on the hall table. He could see the edge of it. It was black plastic or metal, with two little silver points. A taser.

He tried to teleport. Of course he couldn’t. No one could use magic, not with that much residual electricity running through them. He gave a grunt that sounded like a gag, and heaved himself on to his stomach. He started crawling. He could hear her now. He could hear the rattle of cutlery as she searched for something.

He crawled for the bedroom.

He heard her curse. She’d found the muffins in the bin. She was not happy.

He crawled faster.

He got to the bedroom. Tane Aiavao lay face down on the carpet, a knife lodged in his skull. Hayley Skirmish sat against the far wall, her throat cut.

Fletcher nudged the door shut, swung himself round to place his feet against it, and he lay back and tried to regain control of his body.

The handle turned, and Myra pushed and Fletcher pushed back.

“This is silly,” she said from the other side. “Fletcher, you’re delaying the inevitable. Come on. Open up.”

He would have come up with a witty retort, but it was at that moment he realised his bladder had loosened.

“I-I’ve w-wet myself,” he said through chattering teeth.

“That’s normal,” Myra told him. “You’re lucky that’s all you did. It’s nothing to be ashamed of.”

“Why’re you … why …”

The door shuddered violently. “Why am I doing this?” she said. “Because I’ve been paid to do it. It’s my job.”

Fletcher’s teeth were chattering so hard he bit his tongue and tasted blood. “You s-said you … loved me.”

“Yeah,” she answered, “and you didn’t say it back, you creep!”

She started kicking the door. He could hear it splintering from the other side.

“S-sorry,” he called. “I … I l-love you, too.”

She laughed. “Bit late, yeh flamin’ drongo.”

That wasn’t nearly as cute as it once was.

Fletcher’s fingers opened and closed. His whole body ached and buzzed, but it was slowly coming back under his control. He looked around for something, a weapon, and reached out for Tane’s wrist, started pulling his body closer.

Myra was really making a racket with all that kicking. “You’re annoying me now,” she said. “You hear me, Fletch? Now I’m annoyed. Let me in. Let me in right now.”

When Tane’s body was close enough, Fletcher’s hand curled round the handle of the knife. He tried pulling it free, but it was lodged deep in the skull.

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