Kyle the Apprentice Warlock

Chapter 47

12:30PM September 13th 2026

Manhattan North International Airport, New York, NY

Jim's legs had almost given out when Camina first set him down. It was Sheer adrenaline alone that kept him standing. The rush. His heart was jackhammering in his chest so loud he was certain that every monster on the island could probably hear it. But that woman didn't make a big deal out of it. She didn't call attention to how green he was at this.

When she realized he wasn't following her over to the edge of the rooftop because he was scared shitless, Camina had just given him a kind, mothering smile and encouraged him to follow her with a nod in the direction that sounds of destruction and horror were coming from. There were screams. So many screams under the sound of crumbling concrete and the screeching of metal tearing apart. Glass crunching.

The screams were quiet compared to the angry roars of the monster.

Camina got down on all fours and crawled to the low wall that lined the edge of the rooftop they were on. Summoning his courage, Jim followed with his camera recording. The gravel and debris bit into his elbows despite the reinforced patches on his jacket. And his armpits chaffed as he tried to keep the camera steady through his crawl. This. Was. Not. Fun.

The midday sun was beating down on his back while rivers of sweat were saturating his shirt. Scorching heat rose up from the tacky tarred roof that he stuck to, just a little bit, with each forward motion. Hot, rich, and volatilely resinous, the scent of tar filled his senses until there was no room for any other sensation during the long tedious crawl toward danger. Or at least he thought it had, until he inched his head slowly up to see over the wall and got smacked in the face by the updraft off the tarmac.

Dry air clogged his throat and left the young journalist gasping for air while trying to stifle his body's autonomic desire to cough. Smothering his mouth against an arm, Jim convulsed with his silent struggle. When his tearing vision cleared after a few blinks, he was staring at a canteen or a water bottle mere inches from his face held in Camina's outstretched hand.

Yep. Now she knows you're an amateur, stupid. The disappointed thought popped into his head. Didn't think to bring anything but my camera gear.

The woman didn't say anything. She wasn't even looking at him. Those eyes of her's were focused on the thing that really mattered. Not some kid wannabe reporter catching his breath, but on the people who genuinely needed her help. Jim took the vessel and drank, quickly. Opening, sipping, and closing the lid took only moment before he placed it back in the waiting hand that closed reflexively around it.

She didn't even have to look to return it to where it belonged as it disappeared smoothly into a clip on her white and gold armor. Feeling less dizzy and back to himself, Jim Thafesh made a second attempt to do the job he was here to do. Taking slow careful breaths, Jim peeked his head up above wall he was behind...

...and wished he had stayed on the plane.

It was huge. The monster looked like it used to be a plane. A big one. It had sprouted small hindlegs, mostly walking on its wings like a wyvern, and the glass of the cockpit window was gone. The behemoth had a jaw that opened wide low on what had been the nose, filled with sharp jagged metal teeth. Eyes were located to either side of that.

The clawed wings were burrowing into one of the terminals across the way from the building they were located on top of. Short sharp retorts from the weapons of security guards rang out. Shooting was futile, but they were trying anyways. Bright flashes from wand thrown spells spilled around the contours of the metal horror.