Page 12 of Doom

Doom nodded in concession, though his taunting smile revealed he wasn’t fooled one bit. Still, he spared me further embarrassment. While helping me into the van, he asked for directions then settled on his bike. Stran came rolling in at dizzying speed and stopped next to Doom.

“Let’s go,” Doom said.

I nodded and followed him. His hoverbike could clearly go way faster, but I appreciated his measured pace. While the van remained road-worthy, its little accident this morning had done some damage that made it harder to control, not to mention all the debris littering the streets from the riots.

Luckily, six miles in, we still hadn’t encountered any Kryptids. Doom frequently checked his armband, probably keeping an eye on his long-range scanner. Suddenly, he signaled for me to turn right, in the opposite direction from our destination. Confused, I followed while Stran dashed ahead. I watched the Creckel roll into the empty parking lot in front of Our Mother of Mercy church. Doom parked his hoverbike near the entrance, and I parked next to him.

“What’s going on?” I asked, hopping out of the van.

“My scanner detects nearly one hundred humans within but no Kryptid presence. This is a disaster waiting to happen,” Doom said.

He tested the doors but found them all locked. Pulling a pencil-shaped device from his belt, he pressed the tip against the keyhole of one of the doors. In seconds, I heard the clicking sound of the door unlocking.

“It might be best for me to go in first,” I suggested. “Your normal appearance may not be scary like your battle form, but it will still freak people out.”

Doom hesitated. “You make a valid point, but what if they start shooting first?”

I chewed my bottom lip, not relishing the real possibility they might do just that, under the circumstances.

“Here,” Doom said, detaching a narrow ring from his bracer and attaching it to my wrist.

He had me hold my arm up in front of my body and ran his finger along the shiny edge of the ring. I squealed in surprise as a large energy shield appeared before me. It weighed nothing and hummed lightly.

“This number at the top right corner indicates the integrity of the shield,” Doom said, pointing at it. “If it ever drops below thirty, get behind cover as the next few hits to it might make it collapse.”

“Okay,” I said, my mouth going dry and my pulse spiking.

“I’m going to open the door slightly,” Doom said, his palm resting on the heavy door. “Remain hidden behind the wall, and call out to them first.”

I nodded and swallowed hard, bracing for what might come next.

“Hello!” I shouted into the opening, my shoulder pressed against the wide doorframe. “I come in peace. My name is Victoria. I’m a medical doctor. My friend and I are here to help. May I come in?”

Silence greeted my words. I didn’t know if they hadn’t heard me or were playing dead. Just as I was about to call out again, a voice reached us from inside.

“We are armed. We don’t want any trouble. Come in peacefully, and no one needs to get hurt.”

The voice belonged to an older man. Despite his firm tone, I could hear the underlying fear. I looked at the shield and then back at Doom. Reading my intention, he shook his head at me in warning.

“Agreed, I’m coming in alone, so that you can see I’m not a threat.”

Running my finger over the bracelet the same way Doom had done, I deactivated the shield. He held my wrist to keep me from going in, a stern look in his eyes.

“Trust me,” my lips said soundlessly.

I caressed his cheek in a reassuring gesture and pulled my wrist from his grasp. The genuine concern in his eyes, his almost palpable worry for me—combined with his ability to trust me—touched me far more deeply than I could express. We barely knew each other, and yet, a deep bond had already formed.

I slowly stepped into the church, my arms spread, my fingers splayed. “I’m just passing through and trying to help where I can. Are you in need of medical assistance?”

The greeting party consisted of four men and one woman, all in their late sixties, early seventies. They lowered their weapons, clearly relieved by my casual appearance. My black leggings and dark grey t-shirt couldn’t have been further from my normal flowy, colorful attire. But, these days, discretion and blending with the environment were the key to survival.

“Yeah. Some people downstairs could use some help,” said a man with a smattering of brown hair amidst a sea of grey. His thick, fluffy, grey mustache looked almost cartoony. “My name’s Simon. You said you had a friend?” he asked, looking over my shoulder.

My heart skipped a beat. I had hoped to transition into that after having earned their trust a bit more.

“Yes. He saved my life a few hours ago. The bugs have invaded Sacred Heart Hospital and the surrounding streets,” I explained, hoping to soften them up to hear what would come next. “One of the Kryptids was just about to inject me with the things they’ve been mentioning on the radio when my friend and his brothers showed up.”

“He’s outside with his brothers?” one of the other males exclaimed, his hands tightening on his shotgun.

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