The Purging

Noontide Stampede

CHAPTER 7

An uneasy silence has fallen over the UN assembly room since the departing of its human politicians. Jean Charles has spent the few moments since, organizing a perimeter out of the nearly one hundred wolves and felines of his regent's personal guard. All units reporting in have caught the scent of the approaching jackals, but none can pinpoint exactly where it’s coming from. The local army, as well as a contingent of UN peacekeepers, are dispersing in the area to provide some support. Mounting tension is making even the most seasoned veterans among them jumpy.

Jean turns to Bashina, “There is no reason for you to be present for the battle. You should board your transport and get out of the area highness. If Ahmu is with the invasion force, his primary goal will be getting to you.” Her safety is paramount to him. Every single human in the city meant nothing compared to the life of his queen. Bashina is not to be dissuaded. No one on Earth could hope to change her mind. She hops down from her perch to chastise him.

“I am well aware of the risk involved with remaining here, Jean. Unfortunately, if they do not key upon my scent and focus their efforts on this building, they will turn their immediate attention to the civilians in the area. You know as well as I do what kind of slaughter would follow. A true leader never abandons her subjects in a time of crisis. These people may not know my name, but they fall under the umbrella of my protection nonetheless. I can and will stay right here until I am satisfied the populace has been given ample time to evacuate.” She has always taken her responsibility to her people with the utmost seriousness. The empress is no stranger to conflict. Never in her long life has she ever turned away from danger. Approaching Jean calmly, she touches her palm to the centre of his chest and looks him square in the eyes, “If the mongrel father is here Jean, I need your assurance that you will remain of sound mind. This is about saving as many lives as we can. It is not the staging ground for your own personal revenge. I know better than any other what you have lost to him, and the time for retribution will come, but not today. Delay their advance, occupy their forces, but do lose yourself in the carnage. You're too important to our cause, to me, to waste yourself in a battle we have no hope of winning.”

They are like family. Circumstance have tied them closely together for more than two centuries. Bashina is the closest thing to a mother he’s ever had. The fear of failing his matron terrifies him. He shrinks back from her touch and averts his eyes from her gaze. Stomping angrily away from her, he barks, “Do not ask me to make promises that you know I can't keep. If nothing else, you can use me as an effective distraction to cover your escape. The stink of them is too strong for him to not be here. Were he absent, his followers would not have been able to refrain from attacking already.”

Looking out the window at the main grounds, he intently watches the peacekeepers attempting to disperse the crowd of protestors that have gathered outside the building. On close inspection, he notices several of the protestors covertly drawing syringes from their pockets and injecting themselves in the neck. He yells into his radio, “The protestors, it’s the damn protestors! All units fire at will!” He shoots out the windows and leaps down into the fray, firing wild with both of his assault rifles. Several protestors’ heads shred to ribbons and the crowd scatters. Those that have injected themselves, however, fly into a violent tremor, frothing at the mouth and squealing at a deafening volume. Backs sprout thick fur coats and jagged claws extend from knuckles.

Those in the throes of the psychotic fit pay no mind to Jean’s advance or the crossfire from the peacekeepers and lunge headlong at the nearest soldiers. A collection of fur covered rubber balls bound from victim to victim indiscriminately tearing into flesh with tooth and claw. Numerous peacekeepers acquire minor injuries in just the first few seconds. Realizing the mongrel’s initial goal is to spread their taint, Jean does what he can to keep them off the remainder of the soldiers. Two mongrels dive open mouthed at Jean, only to be intercepted mid flight by a stream of hot lead pouring from his machine guns.