Amber

3 - White Dust

And thank God for magical jewellery. Broken bones? Not for long. Concussion? Shake it off. Internal bleeding? More like sparkly healing.

Still hurt like hell though. From a medical standpoint, pain was supposed to give context. She reckoned she had a little too much context. Hello brain, provide me with a status report. Ah yes, brain, the situation is not normal, not normal at all. We're code black-and-blue. Damage control is crap, very crap. Crappier than a wardrobe malfunction on prom night.

But at least she was healing. If she wasn't, then she could say for certain that she would be in deep trouble, because that meant the Trinket was on the verge of breaking apart. And no Trinket meant no Amber whatsoever.

Leaving the aisles, she smacked her head repeatedly as her vision began to gradually clear. The man at the counter was dourly bent over a newspaper and doing the crosswords, completely ambivalent to the state of the now trashed store. The Cattle were always like that. "Eleven letters," he mumbled to himself as he tapped the end of his pencil against his cheek. "A painful and uncomfortable experience."

"Adolescence," Amber croaked as she hurried past him. She materialised her chain whip and heard the sound of the metal ball thunking onto the floor and grounding itself against the tiles as she dragged it along.

The store owner paused for a moment. "Catastrophe." Sounds of metal crumpling outside. The ground quaked and puffs of dust fell from the ceiling.

The store doors slid open as Amber hobbled out. A scene of carnage greeted her: overturned vehicles, scattered bodies, a ripped out fire hydrant and a water sprout. The Cattle had finally got a pair of synapses between them and legged for cover.

The Demon fell back hard against a van with a roar, the vehicle tilting as it leaned up against it for balance. It darted aside. Silver spears plunged into the passenger door in multiple succession, the ends of their gleaming shafts faintly quivering from the sheer force of their owner's throw.

Another Hunter had joined the fray. Amber glimpsed her out of the corner of her eye as together they bounded after the Demon. Same age as her. Hoodie with the hood pulled down. Redhead. Ponytail. Leather shorts. Fur-trimmed boots.  Mischievous green eyes.

It nettled Amber that she had to work with another Hunter, sharing the prey. It spoiled the kill.

Yet in the end, the help was the help.

"Having trouble?" The other girl called out as she flung another spear.

"Not at all!" Amber launched herself at the Demon as the polearm caught it through the side. With the chain whip, she pummelled it in the chest, the blows each landing with a sickening thud and crunch as bone shattered beneath weighted metal. The Demon leapt back from her, retreating to where the road continued through an intersection. As it landed, the other Hunter nailed it in both knees, forcing it to fall forward on threes, one hand grasping it's most certainly fractured sternum.

Dark ichor pooled beneath the creature as the two Hunters approached it warily. It glanced between them both, eyes glazed as the pain of its trauma overloaded its nervous system. A roar rumbled low in its throat, before breaking into a whimper as its body experienced another wrack of overwhelming agony.

"You want to?" The redhead Hunter asked, not taking her own eyes off their quarry.

Amber looked into the Demon's eyes, and it looked back into hers. "No." She lowered her weapon. "You can do it."

The redhead Hunter shrugged.

The Demon's eyes widened as the spear's point emerged from its back with a spurt of ichor. It sighed deeply, as if almost disappointed, and then its body crumbled away into white dust which began to swirl in the air, coalescing into the shape of a globe. It glowed as bright as glitter and floated as softly as snow. It wafted from side to side and bounced up and down with a force of its own, its movement eager, like a child eager to play a game.

In the backdrop of the scene of destruction and property damage, there was something poignant in the sight.

"50-50?" The redhead asked aloud.

"50-50." Amber took out her Trinket as the redhead took out hers, which was a necklace too. They held them up in the air, and as if pulled by some sort of vacuum, the globe split into two aerial streams with each one flying towards one of the Trinkets. As Amber watched, the white dust sank into the lines of her gem, and gradually, she could see the dullness in the colour begin to ebb away as the hue brightened.

But only slightly.

Amber dematerialised her weapon. She held up her hand to her face and looked down at her palm. A beat passed, and then blood-red numbers flickered into existence over the whorls, loops and arches of the skin.

158: 22: 32

A hundred and fifty-nine hours left, rounded up.

"So." Amber felt the other Hunter's hand clap her on the shoulder. "I was in the neighbourhood. Hope you didn't mind me dropping in when I did."

Amber looked at her, squeezing her hand so that the other Hunter couldn't see the timer. "It's no problem, Max. Thanks for the gesture."

"Anytime." Max threw an arm around Amber, leaning close. "How've things been?"

"Hectic." Amber looked up at the black sky, searching for more pages.

Max followed her gaze. "Want to tag along?" She asked conversationally. "I could use the company."

"Maybe some other time."

"If the two of you are done." Salem landed on top of a nearby SUV and looked down at both Hunters with disapproval. Amber liked to think he often does it because it makes him taller. "Amber," he said. "We've got what we came for. I suggest we head back home for a break now."

"I don't need you to tell me that," Amber retorted. She shrugged off Max's hand, turned and stomped away, muttering something foul under her breath as she replaced the Trinket around her neck.

Max glanced at the back of the departing Amber and before switching her gaze to a bemused Salem. "Is this a bad time?"

"Sort of." Salem flickered his tail towards the opposite direction of the one Amber was taking. "Home's the other way, Amber."

"I knew that." The Hunter turned around and stomped back to them. "Look, it's not you or anything like that," she said to Max. "I'm just in the middle of something. Something big."

Max shrugged. "Something big, eh? I understand." She beamed and snapped her fingers. "How about I just walk with you for a bit while I keep hunting? Just to make sure you get home in one piece, seeing as how your Trinket's in sore shape."

Amber narrowed her eyes. "That won't be necessary."

"Actually," Salem interjected. "I think that sounds like a great idea."

"Perfect!" Max exclaimed. "That settles it. You've been outvoted."

There was a loud, metallic groan behind them. The three turned as one and watched as a streetlight fell forward with a deafening crash, setting off more car alarms.

Then they went home.