Your Job Bites!

Chapter 16 Meanwhile back in the Congo

Unkhabami paced slowly through the underbrush. The mist had receded leaving a damp layer of moisture on the leaves. Her spotted coat twitched when water droplets landed on her from the foliage she disturbed as she passed. The trip home from the United States had been exhausting. She hated flying. She was a were-cat. Cats did not belong in the sky.

'Tourists and airports,' she growled to herself.

She never should have left her jungle. Weeks ago she had awoken in the middle of the night with a burning need. Prophecy was like that. It waited for no one. Sweating and panting she had answered the call. She had entered into the trance that would allow her to peek into the Universe and see what was coming.

Her visions had almost killed her.

The rage and violence that burned and seethed in the not so distant future had terrified her. War was coming. Not just a war of men, but one of Demons. She remembered the curling serpent from her dream. It had consumed the world. Devouring it in darkness. Her pelt shivered and twitched just remembering the things she had seen. Except for one thing. Her visions had shown two fragile spots of hope. Whitney Martindale.

Whitney was the point on which so much turned. Unkhabami sniffed and laid her ears back. Her prediction that Whitney would would be the spark that sent them all to disaster had come to pass. The two enemies had finally come together. The decent into darkness was starting. She had tried to warn Madraeus but he didn't listen. Now there was no way to stop the war that was coming. Blood and violence.

Unkhabami shivered again.

She stepped up to the edge of the forest and ran her eyes over the tiny group of buildings that comprised her village. The waning sunlight of sunset made the small clearing glow in a cozy golden light. She had been gone for only a couple of weeks but it seemed like a lifetime. She was glad to be home. A quiet purr rumbled from her throat as she started to step from the shadows.

Suddenly she froze with one paw in mid-air. Awareness shivered down her spine. Her eyes dilated. Something was wrong.

The village was dead quiet. There was no sound of children playing. No sound of men and women talking or laughing. No chickens or pigs scampered between the huts. Not a single thing moved.

Cautiously Unkhabami stepped forward. She crossed the open space between the trees and the huts quickly finding cover against the closest building. She froze and listened again. Her eyes scanned every shadow. Finally she moved again following the rough mud wall of the hut. When she came to the door she quickly ducked past the blanket hanging across the door.

The hut was empty. The sparse furnishings had been shattered. Her nostrils flared. It smelled of Death.

Unkhabami's heart thumped faster. She spun back to the door. Carefully she nosed the blanket aside. The warm light from sun was fading. The temperature was beginning to drop. But it was more than just the sun stealing the warmth, something was coming.

Quickly Unkhabami dashed from hut to hut trying to find any of her villagers. Hut after hut was empty. She had been their Priestess for nearly one hundred years. She knew every piece and part of every life. She had protected them, laughed with them, cried with them, attended their births and deaths. And now they were gone. Every hut told the same story: destruction and death.

Terror and desperations pushed her to run faster through the village. She was so frantic to find someone alive that she almost missed the tiny whimper coming from her own hut. She froze wondering if she had heard correctly.

The temperature was descending with the sun. The tendrils of the coming evil brushed against her pelt making it twitch again. She backed away from them. Her hut was just to her left. She darted toward it. Dashing through the door she changed as she entered.

As soon as she had become human a small body slammed into her. She staggered back a step as her arms wrapped around the child clinging to her hips.

"Child! What has happened?" She rattled off in Swahili.

"Demon!" The child shook in terror.

"Demon?" Unkhabami tried to untangle the child enough that she could see her face.

"Where is your mother? Your father?"

The child only sobbed and held on to her tighter. Unkhabami looked around the hut. Two or three other faces stared at her from the shadows. It would make sense that they would hide in her hut. It was protected more than any other place in the village. She had placed warding spells the keep the village safe from the things she dealt with inside the hut, but the protection would have kept out evil as well.

Suddenly something outside screeched. Piercing and chilling, like claws raking a blackboard. Goosebumps raced across Unkhabami's skin. It wasn't from any animal that lived in the jungle. The child froze staring toward the flimsy blanket hanging across the door of the hut. Her eyes were bulging white with terror.

Unkhabami physically walked the child backward across the room then pried her arms from around her hips. She pushed her down behind a pile of books beside another child. Immediately they clung to one another. Unkhabami put a finger to her lips and mined for them to be quiet and stay where they were. The last of the sunlight leaking around the blanket covering the door winked out.

The thing outside screeched again making her jump. It was closer. She could hear its thumping foot steps and a dragging sound as if it were dragging its feet between steps.

Thump. Drag. Thump. Thump. Drag. Thump.

What was it? She cast about, her eyes searching for something she could use against a Demon if thats what it was. Without details she didn't know the right weapon. She had to find out what it was.

Unkhabami shifted to leopard and stalked cautiously toward the door. She tried to gather information without giving away her presence. She sniffed. She listened. The stench of evil and decay burned her nose. Fear followed the scent into her mind. She shook her head trying to clear it. She backed away from the doorway.

Ghoul!

Thump. Drag. Thump.

If there was one there were more. A bite from a Ghoul would fester and kill its victim only to rise again as a second Ghoul. She swiveled her head to the children hiding behind her. The villagers! Unkhabami started to tremble. She couldn't fight the men and women she had loved.

Thump. Drag. Thump. There were more. It sounded like at least five no maybe seven.

The sounds were coming from all around the hut now. They were surrounded. The night echoed with their screeching. The children ducked their heads and cowered against the ground. Her eyes roamed the thick mud walls willing them to hold until dawn. The sun would drive the Ghouls away. Suddenly the walls reverberated with scratching and pounding. They were trying to get through the walls!

They would never make it until dawn. She was going to have to fight. She couldn't fight them in leopard form. Their bite carried disease and certain death. She would have to fight as a woman.