Killian flinched at not only Riker shouting out, but the sound of a gun going off, surprised that it had been an actual gun instead of a laser. He would have kept running when it missed him, but the smell of new blood, and a voice, had him spinning back around.
“Ah shit, Toddles is going to be so pissed.”
Killian’s eyes widened at the person he now saw grappling with Riker. Standing taller than both him and Riker at six foot one, with a slim, muscular build, the Cryptid looked out of place in his white T-shirt, blue jeans, brown cowboy hat, and matching boots.
His white hair had been pulled into a ponytail, and the man’s yellow-amber eyes were shining with the bright wide smile on his face. The newly-arrived Cryptid had the Skinwalker immobilized, holding his right wrist, while tightly gripping Riker’s left hand, likely to stop him from firing—well, firing again.
The muzzle of the Skinwalker’s weapon was pressed into the man’s broad shoulder, and the new Cryptid was sporting a gunshot wound. Blood was rapidly spreading over his white T-shirt. Though based on Riker’s wailing, and the odd angle, it appeared as if the Skinwalker’s left wrist was broken.
As Killian stared at a face he’d only ever seen on a computer screen, he stuttered, “E-Ender?”
Ender glanced backat Killian from underneath his Stetson, not loosening his grip on Riker in the least. “Hello there, Pretty Siren. Fancy meeting you here.”
The man didn’t have time to respond as the horde of children who had directed him here, and who he had told to stay put, chose to enter then and surround the Siren. Little Skya, who had grown so much since he’d last seen her, launched herself at Killian, while she continued to wail loudly.
As heartless as Ender had become in the many years that had passed, the sound of terrified and traumatized children always made his heart ache a bit. Not to mention it pissed him the fuck off.
Ender looked back towards Riker, who was still struggling, glaring at him. “Bit mad about the wrist, ain’t ya? Have to say, I'm a bit pissed off myself,” he finished saying with a hiss, letting his Gorgon side come out to play, as his hair thickened and coiled together into snakes.
Apparently, not having heard Killian call his name earlier, Riker jerked back in horror, barking, “Ah, fuck, not you too!”
Ender roared when the Skinwalker suddenly shoved the gun hard into the bullet wound. Agony seared through his shoulder, and his grip loosened just enough for the bastard to manage to break free and make a run for the far right hallway.
“Get back here!” he yelled, taking off after the Cryptid, just as Cyrus, Severo, and Soren loudly entered through the door next to the hall that Riker had fled down, the two Bureau agents yelling for their loved ones.
What followed quickly after was Soren, his brother’s accent out in full, bellowing, “WHAT IN THE ACTUAL FUCK, ENDER?!”
Ender hesitated for just a moment, before snapping, “I don’t have time for your dramatics!”
“DRAMATICS?! You have a FUCKING HOLE in you!”
“Hasn’t stopped me yet!” he shouted back, even as he entered the hall.
Tracking down Riker, Ender found himself running past his own men and Cyrus’. But then, the hall had likely looped him back to where the trio had probably come from. With the fighting pretty much over, Ender didn’t stop when others called out to him. He just used his own senses, and the dumb, creepyfate urges, to track the man who had turned invisible only a few feet down the hall.
Ender found himself running down a set of stairs into the ship’s port of entry. Which apparently had been where the Bureau had decided to breach the ship. He was just in time to see Riker messing with what Ender would describe as exploding death.
“Ah, shit,” Ender cursed, spinning back around in an instant. He screamed as he ran, “EXPLOSIVES IN THE BREACH POINT!”
He heard people starting to scatter before he saw them, but Ender only managed to repeat his warning three times before the bomb went off. A wave of searing, burning heat hit his back, and Ender screamed as he was sent flying, everything swiftly going dark.
Cold... It was so cold.
“If we don’t get his temperature?—”
Soren?
“Working on it!”
Ender frowned.Why would Cyrus Grimm be working on anything with his brother?
Cold… It’s so?—
Killian triedto be as sympathetic as he could while applying the burn pack to the screaming man's wound, but… Well, he was not known for any sort of bedside manner, and he was more of a fighter than a healer, even if he was out of practice with fighting and pretty well trained in first aid. Killian found it rather hard to feel things for adults he didn't know, especially when he was generally disconnected from many of his emotions—softer emotions, that is.
He glanced around at the chaos still going on around them. Alarms were blaring, but at this point they were just background noise compared to the screams of the injured. The bomb had blown a giant hole in the side of Brick Bond, but the area had been sealed off automatically by the ship's system.
They’d had to pry open the sealed emergency doors to reach the few people who’d gotten caught on the other side of it, to bring them to safety. But the damage was worse than just there at the breach point. Bombs had gone off simultaneously in the core of the trafficker’s ship, and inside Threadless UGA91, which belonged to the Bureau. They had some serious questions for the possibly traitorous idiot who had left his post at the breach point, but they’d have to wait as the man was currently still passed out.
