Chapter 3: Rescue or More Peril?

He towered over the drunken raiders like a giant, observing the scene in front of him, his face expressionless. Sharp cheekbones and a strong jaw jutted through bronzed skin, giving him a lethal look. A sharp ridge bisected his bald head, stopping above his nose. His eyes bored into hers, red eyes that terrified her.

The bottom of her stomach dropped out, as though she was falling into an abyss. She tried to free her hand from the raiders' grip, tried to raise it in supplication to the strange being before her. He could be the devil himself, but right now, she'd take help from any source, even a red-eyed devil.

Both her hands were pinned down, away from her body by her attackers. Still, she opened her balled fist, her palm held out in a silent plea.

Time seemed to stop as he looked from her hand to her face.

Please! Please help me!

Natalie infused all the desperation she could into her mute appeal, her eyes pleading.

Please! Her lips moved, but no sound came out.

"Please." She tried again, this time in a desperate whisper that disappeared beneath the grunts of the men assaulting her.

Panicked shouts rang out from the raiders as they belatedly noticed the intruder in their midst, and some of the weight lifted off her. Only her captor remained, too focused on groping her to notice or care about the commotion around him.

Natalie winced against the pain. Even drunk as he was, his grip was too strong for her to break free.

He looked up, startled, when the man next to him fell away screaming, his arm severed, almost to the shoulder.

The stranger advanced, his copper skin glistening in the midday sun. Bloody claws, she hadn't noticed before, extended from the tips of his long fingers.

As her captor stared, frozen with horror, the stranger ripped the guts out of another man with one swipe.

The raiders scrambled for their weapons. When her captor released his grip on her wrists to reach for the shotgun he'd taken from her earlier, Natalie rammed her boot right into his family jewels.

"You bitch," he grunted, curling into a fetal position.

She hastily scooted away from him, but not fast enough. He grabbed her foot and pulled her back then raised his balled fist, ready to strike her again. Before she could even throw her arms over her head in defense, a strange, knife-like object pierced his fist, gleaming in the harsh sunlight. He screamed and fell forward, desperately trying to pull the thing out of his hand.

Momentarily dazed, Natalie glanced around at the screaming, panicked raiders. One man fell to the ground with a high-pitched howl, his gaze glued on the stranger who was gutting another raider.

When the gutted man no longer writhed in agony, the stranger disappeared, only to appear again in the same spot where he'd stood minutes before. Once again, his red gaze trapped her, as though he was looking straight into her. She pushed down her torn dress in a futile attempt to shield herself. She wanted to move, to run, but his heavy gaze weighed her down, pinning her in place.

The screams of the raiders faded to silence and she watched, half-terrified, half-enthralled, as the creature's appearance slowly began to change. His skin rippled, green mixing with copper, giving it a tough, armored look. Fangs lengthened from beneath his full upper lip. And that terrible ferocious gaze bled a deeper crimson.

What would that skin feel like if I touched it?

Every time he moved, muscles rippled under his clothes in a beautiful display of masculinity. She gasped, horrified at herself for finding something so deadly seductive. She broke her gaze away, but couldn't keep her eyes off him for long.

His strong arms hung at his sides, blood dripping from his taloned claws, their quiet menace scarier than a war cry. The copper-green of his skin sparkled, catching rays of sunlight as he killed two more raiders, moving so fast the men didn't even have time to react. Their lifeless bodies fell to the ground in pools of blood, their innards spilling from their torn abdomens.

Natalie scooted back then froze, hoping she hadn't drawn his attention to her, when once again he appeared in the same spot where she'd first seen him. The same stance - feet braced apart, claws held loose at his sides - the same stare.

How does he disappear and reappear like that?

He turned his head with slow, deliberate movements.

Oh, God. Please let him be searching for more raiders.

She cringed when his gaze settled on her again, his stare pinning her still-sprawled figure to the ground with more fear than a horde of raiders.

How did he hold her captive with just a look?

Time seemed to slow. The groans of the raiders as they slowly bled to death faded into a dull hum, like static from the TC, until the only thing she was aware of was the stranger, still standing as though ready for battle.

A few raiders had managed to escape his earlier attacks by hiding behind boulders and trees. Now, in desperation, they opened fire.

He didn't even flinch. Bullets whizzed past him; a few seeming to ricochet off his clothes and copper-green skin.

Still holding her gaze, the crimson-eyed devil flexed his clawed fingers and a large silver sword appeared in his hand as if by magic.

Natalie blinked. He swung the sword in intricate, graceful arcs around his body, as though warming up, his muscles rippled and bulged in an impressive display of strength.

He suddenly roared, the sound echoing off the mountain in a clear challenge to the raiders.

Why is he taunting them, inviting them to attack him?

Natalie wasn't sure who was more foolish. The stranger, brandishing a mere sword against an entire arsenal of weapons, or the raiders, still desperately trying to kill the creature that had easily taken down so many of them.

The red beams of the raiders' illegal laser guns made a dull buzzing sound. She'd heard laser guns were so scarce even the military had trouble outfitting their soldiers with them, so how did the raiders get their hands on these?

Natalie recoiled in disbelief as the beams bounced off the stranger's skin. Though only designed to stun, the beams could still penetrate nearly anything.

What in the world is he made of?

When the stranger took a heavy, silent step forward, two of the raiders tossed their weapons aside and ran for the trees, stumbling down the mountainside. Another poor fool crawled up a tree, his movements frantic and crablike. The others, after failing to get a bead on their attacker, scrambled for heavier artillery.

The devil quickly killed another man with a savage lunge.

Natalie scuttled away, never taking her eyes off the stranger, as she tried to take cover. She'd almost reached the safety of the tree line when he abruptly turned, pinning her with his stare once again.

Keeping his gaze glued on hers, he swung his sword as though it weighed nothing, lopping off two heads with one savage sweep of his blade. One sightless head rolled to a stop between her legs.

Natalie wanted to scream - tried to, but the lump in her throat prevented it. Breathing in short, painfully dry gasps, she scrambled backward. Her palms were scraped raw as she dragged herself away from the carnage in front of her. Her lungs refused to expel the air trapped inside them.

The stranger lopped off another head. She edged farther back, terrified her head would be next.

With clumsy, frantic movements, the raiders managed to get a few shots fired, but none of them appeared to have any affect, and one by one, each raider lost his head.

Her gasping breaths stalled. With no air entering or leaving her lungs, she reached for the inhaler in her pocket, but her hands trembled so much she had trouble gripping it. After a few attempts, she finally managed to bring the pump to her mouth, and forced her locked lungs to inhale a swift puff of medicine.

Inhalers were considered obsolete after asthma injections came on the market years ago. But the injections cost so much she'd never been able to afford it.

Taking the first deep breath she'd had in what felt like hours, she wanted to laugh at the irony. What did an inhaler or an injection even matter when she could lose her head at any moment?

With each new kill, the devil roared ferociously, the eerie sound echoing down the mountainside like a warning to those who'd tried to escape.

I need to get help! She rolled onto her hands and knees. That blasted emergency function better work this time, or I'll haunt those government bastards for the rest of my days!

She gripped the hem of her dress between her teeth, to keep from tripping on it, and crawled toward the tree line. The sparse vegetation didn't offer much in the way of protection but it was far better than the complete exposure of the clearing. Buzzing sounds, screams, groans, and roars continued behind her.

Ducking behind a bush, she looked back at the clearing. Only six raiders were left.