There was blood in his mouth, in his nose. He blinked. Pain flooded Lih’s skull and his right leg. He was busted. The pain speared into him so sharply he couldn’t move. Vision began to go—
—out.
The light died. Lih cursed, and flicked at his flashlight. He was sure the battery had been a fresh one, but it was dead. Lih sat back and took a moment to look up. He was tired. He took a deep breath. Blind pain and tension had put a tiny tic in the corner of his left eye and a tremble in his hands. Furthermore, he had blacked out for a second. At least he hoped it was no more than a few seconds.
He glanced up at the ceiling, a blankness against the yellowy dark. There was still a kind of light. It twinkled through the windows. Amber, dull. Just enough to pick out the landscape of no-man’s land; just burst pipes and wreckage.
Lih’s heart began to race even faster. Fumbling with muddy, gloved fists, he felt his leg again. Something had smacked into it hard when he fell. The impact tore muscles in Lih’s right leg. Bleeding, but he could still move freely.
This was a joke. Not a fun one. Somewhere, some god or similar higher being, possibly one seated upon a shiny throne, was having a laugh at Viktor Lih's expense. Ordinarily, he'd like to believe, he had a refined appreciation of good irony, but the special irony of this particular situation was simply making Lih curse and swear. He wasn't hit anywhere; he had just fallen on his own.
Then that special god had started laughing. What faced him now was a grueling backwards retreat in the dark as he was having to break out and run, after all. He wasn't looking forward to it. He missed having Costa with him. Word was Costa had joined the domovoi after recovering from the bite wound. Costa had a great rep for rescuing people. What would he do?
The thought stopped him. Costa. Lih felt a terrible ache. Where was he? What was he doing, right now? Was he even alive?
How stupid was this, scampering through the darkness and smoke with a gun in your hand, when some things really mattered?
Costa…
… would have considered this situation carefully and decided what action needed to be taken. It reminded him, painfully, of the night Costa saved his skin. Lih had never made that connection before. He made a point of not thinking about that incident unless he had to.
“Fine,” he said.
He was. He was fine. He was officer Viktor Lih, CCD domovoi, the youngest cop who’d ever made that cut. He wasn’t about to f— it all up now. It didn’t matter what he felt about Costa, or Alex or Dorian.
He’d chosen to be a cop, and worked to get the badge. He was a serious, thoughtful officer, determined, just like the other officers, to prove to the Captain and Dorian that they’d made a good choice of promotions. Where he lacked experience, it was in calm judgment. He was all too aware of the fact he had nothing of his senior's charisma. He’d never be popular the way Costa was.
Lih concentrated. He was sweating hard, more scared than he dared admit. He’d fought monsters before, and had killed before, but this was his first time without a partner in an active operation. Once upon a time, going-it-alone had made some kind of tactical sense. But pride was an anchor he didn’t need. Not right now.
So he’d decided the best way to help Boda was to call for help. He needed to go to his car parked outside Boda's, and make sure the patrol radio wouldn’t suddenly blare into life and give him away. He could rig the car signals for dispatch headphones only. It was a smart move, the sort of thing that a prideful cop might have overlooked, but Lih had played nice with the technicians and knew about those things.
He levered his lean frame up. The smoke and darkness closed in on all sides. The darkness seemed solid, vicing him in. There was no sign of Boda or the rest of the attackers. Lih hobbled along, leaning heavily on the walls. His leg hurt. He knew he’d pushed himself too hard, and the pain was beginning to erode the sense of relief that blacking out hard briefly provided. His wounds were wet and raw, and moving made them worse.
He reached a short flight of steps and lowered himself carefully down onto them. Just sit for a minute, he thought, just a moment. His colorless skin was pale and clammy and sweat streaked his forehead. He breathed heavily. He had no wish for any of Boda’s attackers to see him. Even the thought was too terrifying.
And the house was bigger than Lih had first thought. Tall. Thick walls, what was left of them. He stumbled almost blind through the mess of debris. He’d never get near his patrol car without the attackers noticing him... And what would calling for help achieve? There was no part for police to play. Not unless the attackers left. Were they likely to leave? What margin could one man with a handgun achieve? All he could do to live was bide his time until he was faced with his kind of fight. And if he died, why care about the details?
Don’t know why, don’t know what. He needed to go to the car. Wanted to know what’s going on. Without expecting to, he found himself oddly concerned for the welfare of Boda. That concern had surprised him to an extend he found dismaying. He questioned his focus even as he moved on.
Just… something, Lih knew, even if it scared the living daylight out of him, he had to do. This was going to be hard. Something big was waiting for him. Old and hard and cunning, like a wily beast ready to pounce.
Ready to kill.
Viktor Lih
—out.
The light died. Lih cursed, and flicked at his flashlight. He was sure the battery had been a fresh one, but it was dead. Lih sat back and took a moment to look up. He was tired. He took a deep breath. Blind pain and tension had put a tiny tic in the corner of his left eye and a tremble in his hands. Furthermore, he had blacked out for a second. At least he hoped it was no more than a few seconds.
He glanced up at the ceiling, a blankness against the yellowy dark. There was still a kind of light. It twinkled through the windows. Amber, dull. Just enough to pick out the landscape of no-man’s land; just burst pipes and wreckage.
Lih’s heart began to race even faster. Fumbling with muddy, gloved fists, he felt his leg again. Something had smacked into it hard when he fell. The impact tore muscles in Lih’s right leg. Bleeding, but he could still move freely.
This was a joke. Not a fun one. Somewhere, some god or similar higher being, possibly one seated upon a shiny throne, was having a laugh at Viktor Lih's expense. Ordinarily, he'd like to believe, he had a refined appreciation of good irony, but the special irony of this particular situation was simply making Lih curse and swear. He wasn't hit anywhere; he had just fallen on his own.
Then that special god had started laughing. What faced him now was a grueling backwards retreat in the dark as he was having to break out and run, after all. He wasn't looking forward to it. He missed having Costa with him. Word was Costa had joined the domovoi after recovering from the bite wound. Costa had a great rep for rescuing people. What would he do?
The thought stopped him. Costa. Lih felt a terrible ache. Where was he? What was he doing, right now? Was he even alive?
How stupid was this, scampering through the darkness and smoke with a gun in your hand, when some things really mattered?
Costa…
… would have considered this situation carefully and decided what action needed to be taken. It reminded him, painfully, of the night Costa saved his skin. Lih had never made that connection before. He made a point of not thinking about that incident unless he had to.
“Fine,” he said.
He was. He was fine. He was officer Viktor Lih, CCD domovoi, the youngest cop who’d ever made that cut. He wasn’t about to f— it all up now. It didn’t matter what he felt about Costa, or Alex or Dorian.
He’d chosen to be a cop, and worked to get the badge. He was a serious, thoughtful officer, determined, just like the other officers, to prove to the Captain and Dorian that they’d made a good choice of promotions. Where he lacked experience, it was in calm judgment. He was all too aware of the fact he had nothing of his senior's charisma. He’d never be popular the way Costa was.
Lih concentrated. He was sweating hard, more scared than he dared admit. He’d fought monsters before, and had killed before, but this was his first time without a partner in an active operation. Once upon a time, going-it-alone had made some kind of tactical sense. But pride was an anchor he didn’t need. Not right now.
So he’d decided the best way to help Boda was to call for help. He needed to go to his car parked outside Boda's, and make sure the patrol radio wouldn’t suddenly blare into life and give him away. He could rig the car signals for dispatch headphones only. It was a smart move, the sort of thing that a prideful cop might have overlooked, but Lih had played nice with the technicians and knew about those things.
He levered his lean frame up. The smoke and darkness closed in on all sides. The darkness seemed solid, vicing him in. There was no sign of Boda or the rest of the attackers. Lih hobbled along, leaning heavily on the walls. His leg hurt. He knew he’d pushed himself too hard, and the pain was beginning to erode the sense of relief that blacking out hard briefly provided. His wounds were wet and raw, and moving made them worse.
He reached a short flight of steps and lowered himself carefully down onto them. Just sit for a minute, he thought, just a moment. His colorless skin was pale and clammy and sweat streaked his forehead. He breathed heavily. He had no wish for any of Boda’s attackers to see him. Even the thought was too terrifying.
And the house was bigger than Lih had first thought. Tall. Thick walls, what was left of them. He stumbled almost blind through the mess of debris. He’d never get near his patrol car without the attackers noticing him... And what would calling for help achieve? There was no part for police to play. Not unless the attackers left. Were they likely to leave? What margin could one man with a handgun achieve? All he could do to live was bide his time until he was faced with his kind of fight. And if he died, why care about the details?
Don’t know why, don’t know what. He needed to go to the car. Wanted to know what’s going on. Without expecting to, he found himself oddly concerned for the welfare of Boda. That concern had surprised him to an extend he found dismaying. He questioned his focus even as he moved on.
Just… something, Lih knew, even if it scared the living daylight out of him, he had to do. This was going to be hard. Something big was waiting for him. Old and hard and cunning, like a wily beast ready to pounce.
Ready to kill.
Viktor Lih