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fredbassettTitle : Entente Cordiale, Part 5 of 7
Author : fredbassett
Fandom : Primeval
Rating : 18
Characters : Stephen/Ryan
Disclaimer : Not mine, no money made, don’t sue.
Word Count : 21,249 overall. This part 4,130.
Spoilers : None
Summary : Ryan whisks Stephen away to an undisclosed location for his birthday weekend, but presents aren’t the only surprises that come Stephen’s way.
A/N : 1) Set in my Stephen/Ryan series which can be found HERE, but can be read as a standalone. 2) Many thanks to![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
lukadreaming who has been cheerleading for this fic for a year and for doing the beta. 3) All the places described in this story do exist, but any resemblance to real people is wholly accidental. 4) Links to previous parts: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4.
Stephen was well aware of the fact that running away from something that looked like a giant chicken on steroids wasn’t exactly the high point of his career as a dinosaur hunter, but the devil was very much in the driving sear at that moment.
With a muttered apology in schoolboy French, Stephen grabbed an elderly man by the shoulders and turned him around, hopefully convincing him that tangling with a black and white-feathered monstrosity wasn’t a good idea.
The man took one look at their pursuer, exclaimed, “Putain de merde!” then handed his walking stick to Stephen and said something else that he didn’t understand. But the offer of the stick was good enough for him.
Ryan had clearly had the same idea on the subject of improvised weapons and had also appropriated a walking stick from someone.
“Prenez les femmes et les enfants à sécurité,” Ryan said to the man who had just handed his stick to Stephen. He pointed to the car park. “Prenez une voiture!”
The man nodded. “J'étais dans l'armée,” he offered in return.
Stephen didn’t need a translation of that phrase. It looked like they’d gained an ally.
He turned just in time to see the giant bird appear in a gap in the tall neatly-trimmed box hedge. Quite what they could do armed with nothing more than a pair of walking sticks wasn’t entirely clear but a poke in the eye with a sharp stick might just slow the creature down.
Brandishing the walking stick like a fencing foil – and feeling mildly ridiculous – Stephen jumped out of the way of another strike from the wicked-looking beak. The bird had a habit of squawking before it struck, which was helpful as tells went, but that appeared to be its only weakness. The bird was inhumanly fast and Stephen only barely escaped the beast laying open his arm to the bone. A second slash of the beak took a good six inches off the bottom of the walking stick.
Ryan dodged to one side and dropped to the ground, taking his weight on one hand and scything both feet at the bird’s legs in the hope of bringing it to the ground. He caught their attacker unawares as both feet slammed hard into the back of its legs. As it stumbled, Stephen jumped forwards, trying to slam the steel-shod end of the blackthorn cane into the bird’s face. He only managed to catch it a glancing blow, but it was enough to confuse the creature and combined with the kick to its legs, the bird stumbled and fell in an inelegant heap of ruffled feathers.
Stephen could hear voices in both French and English calling out and it seemed their friend the former soldier, had started an evacuation, at least of the area around the gardens, but they were still lacking in any means of neutralising Big Bird. Stephen was putting his money on the creature being a gastornis, a huge, flightless bird that had lived during the Paleocene, the epoch that had followed the mass extinction of the dinosaurs at the end of the Cretaceous. Knowing that didn’t help much, but it did point to the fact that there was almost certainly an open anomaly in the vicinity, as he very much doubted that the bird was part of a foie gras breeding programme. But in a region so devoted to the product, they’d better hope the local farmers didn’t set eyes on this visitor.
A high-pitched squawk from behind the hedge attracted the gastornis’ attention and it scrambled to its taloned feet, its quarrel with Stephen and Ryan apparently forgotten, for the moment at least. With an answering, but more deep-throated squawk, the creature barrelled through the rose garden, sending a spray of petals flying into the air.
Ryan leaned on the walking stick he was carried and muttered, “That sounded suspiciously like ‘Yes, dear, mummy’s coming.’”
Stephen pulled a face at his damaged stick. “We need better weapons.”
Ryan glanced in the direction of the chateau. “I have a feeling I know where we can get some.”
Side by side, they sprinted away from the garden, herding some stragglers in front of them. Stephen could hear car engines revving, so it looked liked Ryan’s suggestion was being adopted, at least by some of the visitors. The screech of tyres on the gravelled driveway meant that at least they now had fewer people to worry about.
Stephen wondered what sort of response teams the French had for anomalies and the memory of the green-uniformed soldiers from the previous day sprang to mind. He hoped there was some means of alerting them to the appearance of one of the rips in time. The way into the main chateau was over a bridge spanning the wide, deep dry moat. They ran across it and underneath a massive gatehouse, heading towards an imposing building. Some of the windows in the chateau were open and Stephen could hear the sound of screaming coming from inside the building. Light appeared to be dancing behind one of the windows in the upper floor, sparkling like sun on water.
“Shit!” Ryan exclaimed, spotting the same thing at the same time. “There’s one inside as well.”
“Let’s hope it’s not between us and some weapons,” Stephen said as he hauled open a large wooden door. He waved his hand into the cool interior. “After you.”
Ryan gave a small bow. “Enchanté, monsieur.”
They found themselves at the foot of a wide, wooden staircase. The sound of hurrying footsteps coming towards them down a corridor showed that someone had had the presence of mind to start evacuating the party that had been engaged in a tour of the chateau while the next set of visitors entertained themselves in the ornamental gardens. Visitors of various nationalities – French, English, Dutch and German – judging by the languages Stephen could decipher pushed and jostled each other to get to the door first. It was disorderly, but not yet a total rout, and Stephen was pleased to see that the children in the group were being taken care of.
Ryan grabbed the arm of a man who was holding a young boy firmly by the hand. “What’s going on?”
If the man was surprised to be addressed in English, it didn’t show.
“Some sort of bloody great big ball of lightning appeared in one of the rooms. It’s giving off a magnetic field and a few people lost cameras and phones, then a huge turkey or something dashed out and bloody nearly took someone’s arm off.” He glanced down at his son, and said, more quietly, “It grabbed a woman and dragged her into the middle of the light. Someone tried to follow, but I don’t know what happened after that. I wanted to get my wife and kids out of there.”
A woman who was presumably his wife had a toddler balanced on one hip. “Geoff, come on!” Her voice was pleading and she clearly didn’t want to be separated from her husband by the press of people sweeping her inexorably towards the doorway.
The man called Geoff shot Ryan and Stephen an apologetic look and hurried after his wife.
The last woman down the stairs was doing her best to stay calm, calling out alternately in French and English, “Please assemble in the car park, this is a fire drill!”
Stephen gave her full marks for trying to stop a panic, but her words weren’t having much effect. He could still hear screaming from down the corridor, so it was obvious that the evacuation had by no means been totally successful.
Ryan stepped out in front of her, and demanded in a parade-ground voice, “Où sont les armes?”
The woman shot him a startled look, but responded to the obvious authority in Ryan’s voice. She pointed to a door, and Stephen could see that her hand was shaking. “Dans la salle... là-bas.”
Another scream, this time a child’s, came from the floor above them, and acting on impulse, Stephen was about to make his way down the corridor as fast as possible, when Ryan grabbed his arm.
“Hart, no, we need weapons, don’t be an idiot.”
Stephen hesitated for a moment, even though he could see the sense in Ryan’s words, it went against the grain to run away from the sound of screaming, not towards it. But his lover was right, they needed more than a couple of walking sticks to mount an effective defence against the gastornis and whatever else the anomalies had just disgorged. He turned and followed Ryan down a set of wide stone steps into a basement room, cool and rather dimly lit. From what he’d seen, the French had a touching faith in the adequacy of 40 watt light bulbs, and this room was no exception. As his eyes adjusted to the gloom, he realised they were surrounded by racks and racks of weapons, all more suited to medieval warfare rather than dealing with prehistoric creatures, but beggars certainly couldn’t be choosers.
He took one look at the huge broadswords designed to be swung two-handed and promptly went in search of something lighter. A basket-hilted rapier of Italian design caught his eye and he took it down from the wall, hefting its weight in his hand to get a feel for the weapon. It was perfectly balanced, as a couple of practice swings quickly proved.
“You need something for distance work as well,” Ryan commented and tossed a long spear over to him.
Stephen caught it in his left hand. Ryan was right. Distance was good, especially when it related to something out of an anomaly. The spear had a long, leaf-shaped blade with a cross-piece just below the head, designed to stop an enraged animal working its way up the shaft to attack the hunter. They’d also become popular weapons of war due to the ease with which the side wings could be used to yank an enemy’s shield out of his hands. He was unlikely to be facing anything with a shield today, but the other function could end up being useful.
He tucked the boar-spear under his arm and carefully pushed the sword through his belt. Ryan did the same with a somewhat heavier-looking blade. His lover was clearly backing weight over finesse on this occasion. He saw Ryan cast a regretful look at a vicious morning star, its three spiked balls dangling from the end of short lengths of chain attached to a sturdy wooden handle, before the soldier shot him a questioning look and, in response to Stephen’s nod, took the stairs up to the ground floor at a run.
Stephen followed, making sure he didn’t end up ignominiously tripping over his sword on the way. The long corridor opened into an impressive room, panelled in wood and hung with enormous floor-to-ceiling tapestries. An imposing dark oak table ran almost the whole length of the room. It looked like the anomaly had opened into the main dining hall in the chateau. A stone fireplace dominated one end of the room or rather it would have done if the anomaly that had opened inside it hadn’t been something of a scene stealer.
The screaming was coming from a boy of about 13, hiding behind a chair and doing his best to fend off a small gastornis with a heavy cast-iron poker he’d obviously snatched up from beside the fireplace. Stephen gave the kid full marks for commonsense and improvisation. Even the screaming seemed to be doing some good, as a combination of the noise and the poker seemed to be keeping one of the enormous flightless birds at bay.
“Time the nasty little fucker went home,” Ryan said quietly.
Stephen nodded. With the spears held in front of them, they advanced in step with each other. The gastornis gave an enraged squawk at something having the temerity to come between it and its prey and took a swipe at the spear. The hardened wood withstood the sharp beak and Stephen’s spear did more than ruffle a few feathers.
The bird jumped back, pain and anger jostling for precedence in its cry.
Ryan took advantage of its confusion and pressed home his own attack. His spear took the gastornis in the chest. Wounded, the bird pulled back, turned and promptly fled into the anomaly, which was exactly what they’d been hoping for.
The boy came out from behind the chair, his eyes wide with amazement.
“Comment vous appelez-vous?” Ryan demanded.
“Kevin, and I’m English,” the boy replied in a broad Black Country accent.
“So are we,” Stephen said. “Nice to meet you, Kevin.”
“I know,” Kevin said, staring at the weapons they were carrying. “I heard you swearing.”
“We do that a lot,” Ryan said. “We’ve been told that the birds dragged someone through that…” He gestured to the anomaly.
Kevin nodded. “A woman wearing a big straw hat.”
Stephen stared around the room. “Where are your parents, Kevin?” What he really wanted to know was what the hell they were playing at leaving their son behind, even in the midst of all the chaos.
“I’m here with my godmother, but they don’t let dogs in the chateau, so she stayed outside in the gardens.”
Stephen correctly interpreted the look on Ryan’s face as the soldier hefted the spear in his hand and took a step towards the anomaly. “Ryan, no, we can’t just go charging through there. We need to wait for back-up.”
“And the woman they’ve taken will be dead by then.”
“She might be dead already…” He knew perfectly well that his argument was falling on deaf ears but he had to at least make the attempt to reason with his lover.
“Then it’ll be a short trip,” Ryan countered. “If anything comes through, make sure it doesn’t get the chance to do any damage.”
“I’m coming with you.” Ryan wasn’t the only one capable of being stubborn.
Before his lover had a chance to argue, Stephen stepped up to the anomaly, turning to add, “Stay behind the chair, Kevin, we’ll be back in a few minutes. If any more birds come through, just try to stay out of sight.”
Kevin nodded and gripped his iron poker hard.
From the way the some long iron spoons hanging from hooks around the fireplace were straining towards the anomaly, Stephen presumed that the magnetic field was still strong. He took a deep breath and stepped into the anomaly.
A clear blue sky and gently rolling grasslands with a few scattered trees greeted Stephen’s eyes. He blinked in the light, looking around for any potential threats.
He could see several of the gastornis having what looked like a squabble over a body lying on the ground. The birds seemed to be fighting over their prey, with two of the largest birds unwilling to relinquish their prize. The others, including several of the young birds, circled around, looking for an opportunity to dive in and grab some food.
About 200 metres away, a second anomaly sparked in the light, presumably the one that had opening into the gardens. While he watched, a third anomaly winked into existence, disconcertingly close to another group of gastornis.
Next to him, Ryan swore under his breath. For some reasons, a small cluster of anomalies had been generated. If Connor had been here he would no doubt be itching to collect as much data as possible, but for now all Stephen and Ryan wanted to do was rescue the woman – if she was still alive – and get her back to the 21st century.
Stephen picked up a rock and threw it hard at the flock of gastornis. It struck one of them on the back and caused a loud squawk. The bird turned to one of its companions and lashed out with its beak, sending feathers flying. A moment later, Stephen realised that the squabble they’d been witnessing involved the bird that he’d struck with the boar spear, drawing blood. It seemed that the gastornis didn’t have much of a community spirit as it looked like they’d been attacking the injured bird, as well as the woman.
Ryan grabbed another rock and lobbed it into the middle of the rapidly growing melee. “If we run at them we’ll have the element of surprise on our side.”
“Usual drill?” Stephen asked.
Ryan nodded.
The usual drill meant yelling loudly. It worked. The birds scattered in surprise, stubby wings flapping and feathers puffed up. They reminded Stephen of giant versions of the geese they had seen on their forays out into the French countryside. Peaceful one moment and alarmed and noisy the next, especially if a stranger went too close.
While Ryan stood guard, jabbing his spear at any gastornis that made the mistake of coming too close, Stephen dropped his weapon and knelt on the dusty earth. The woman had curled into a defensive ball but from the quiet whimpering noises he could hear, she was still alive. He rolled her onto her back, not know whether to speak to her in French or English. She uncurled slightly and stared up at him out of terrified eyes set in a dirty, bloodied face.
“What are those things?” she asked.
That answered that question. She was English.
“Genetically modified ostriches,” Stephen lied. “Where are you hurt?”
“My arm and my leg.”
Stephen could see that there was a large tear in one sleeve and blood streaming down her arm. It looked like the gastornis has taken a chunk out of her upper arm. Probably only the adrenaline coursing through her system was stopping the woman breaking down complete.
“Come on, we can’t hang around here.” Stephen took her other arm and hauled her to her feet. Ryan wasn’t likely to be able to keep the irate birds at bay for much longer.
The woman yelled in pain as her legs took her weight. Her left trouser leg was in tatters and it looked like she had several more wounds to her leg. Stephen pulled her good arm around his shoulder and said to Ryan, “Cover me.”
Ryan picked up the spear he’d dropped and with one weapon held in each hand, he kept jabbing at their attackers as Stephen retreated to the anomaly with the injured woman.
By the time they stumbled back into the Great Hall at the chateau, Stephen was barely able to keep her upright. To his relief, Ryan was only seconds behind them. Stephen noticed that his spear point was bloody. It was clear that his retreat to the anomaly hadn’t been without incident.
“One of them wouldn’t take no for an answer,” Ryan said grimly. He looked down at the woman, now crumpled on the floor. “We need to get her out of here. I’m not sure how long the bloody things are going to play nicely and stay put. “What’s your name, madam?”
“Janice,” she gasped. “It hurts and I’m bleeding!”
“We’ll get you to safety, Janice,” Ryan said. His tone was calm and reassuring. “I’m Ryan and this is Stephen.” He glanced around and saw Kevin appearing from behind the chair, still clutching his poke. “And this is Kevin.”
The boy smiled and did his best to appear unafraid.
Stephen was worried about the amount of blood the woman was losing from the gash in her leg. The gastornis hadn’t severed an artery, as if it had, she would have bled out by now, but he needed to stop the blood loss if he could. He pulled his teeshirt over his head and wadded it up into a pad and pressed it against her leg.
“Kevin, I need your belt.”
The boy acted quickly and pulled a leather belt out of the loops in his jeans. Stephen used that to hold the blood-soaked pad in place.
“We need something to carry her on,” Kevin said, demonstrating quick wits. He looked at one of the many tapestries hanging on the walls. “Will that do?”
Ignoring the fact that the wall hangings were probably worth a king’s ransom, Stephen nodded. Kevin hauled one of the smaller ones off the wall and laid it on the floor while Stephen and Ryan did their best to manoeuvre the injured woman onto it. Stephen could see now that she had multiple injures all over her body, not just on her arms and legs.
Ryan handed his spear to Kevin and took up the front corners of the makeshift stretcher and Stephen was just about to get into position at the rear when a loud screech told him that one of the gastornis had decided to follow them through the anomaly.
“The floors are level,” Stephen said. “Drag her out while I run interference.”
The look on Ryan’s face told him he wasn’t happy with that suggestion, but there was no time for an argument. He started to tow the woman out of the room, turning the tapestry into a makeshift travois, with Kevin following behind, his poker abandoned in favour of Ryan’s spear.
“Shut the door!” Stephen called as they made their way out of the room. “I don’t want this thing getting past me and coming after you.”
The gastornis lunged at him. Stephen jabbed at it with the spear and then side-stepped, manoeuvring around an ornate chair. The huge oak table was now at his back and on impulse, Stephen jumped up onto it, taking advantage of his the extra height to enable him to thrust down at the bird. But the gastornis was agile and fast. It evaded his thrusts and sprang up onto the end of the table, its sharp claws tapping on the wood as it stalked towards Stephen along the polished oak. He lunged at it with the spear, hoping that the attack would unbalance his opponent.
His hopes were doomed to crash and burn and the bird side-stepped neatly and closed its beak around the shaft of the spear. With one shake of its powerful head, the gastornis succeeded in wrenching the weapon out of Stephen’s hand and throwing it to the floor.
It lunged again.
Stephen jumped up, catching hold of the large, ornate chandelier, hoisting his legs up out of the way of the bird’s attack. He bunched up his legs and used his weight to swing the chandelier back and then forwards. The creature looked up, wanting to know where its quarry had gone. At that moment, Stephen kicked out with both feet, swinging towards the irate gastornis. He caught it in the head and bowled the bird over, send it crashing to the floor.
The sound of clapping came from the doorway.
Stephen dropped lightly back onto the oak table.
“You make a most convincing Errol Flynn, Dr Hart.” Capitaine Etienne Lafarge stood in the doorway with a weapon that Stephen didn’t recognise held to his shoulder, pointing at the gastornis. “My grandmother would love to meet you, I’m sure. I would, however, advise caution. She has been married seven times already.”
The gastornis got back to its feet and stared up at Stephen malevolently. It lunged and he jumped up again, grabbing at the chandelier for a second time and hoping that the ornate plasterwork on the ceiling would continue to bear his weight.
A crackle in the air like static electricity cut over the sound of the bird’s battle cry and the animal jumped as though a charge had gone through it, its limbs shaking like a giant puppet master was tugging on its strings. The French special forces captain lowered his weapon and stared dispassionately as the gastornis twitched violently and then collapsed in a pile of feathers.
“Might I suggest we take this opportunity to leave?” Lafarge said in his almost accentless English.
“What the hell is that?” Stephen said, staring at the bulky black rifle in the man’s hands.
The Frenchman smiled. “There will be time for explanations later, I promise. In the meantime, please gather your weapons. We still have civilians to evacuate and I am sure it is too much to hope for that you and Captain Ryan will join them.” The man’s smile became somewhat wolfish. “Our friend over there will not awaken for some time, and when he does, making sport of civilians will not be the foremost thought in whatever passes for his brain. Come, let us go a-hunting together.”
Lafarge stood aside to allow Stephen through the door.
Even up close, Stephen didn’t recognise the weapon the man was carrying, but he was itching for a better look.
It looked very much like the ARC was not the only organisation with experience of dealing with the anomalies.
Author : fredbassett
Fandom : Primeval
Rating : 18
Characters : Stephen/Ryan
Disclaimer : Not mine, no money made, don’t sue.
Word Count : 21,249 overall. This part 4,130.
Spoilers : None
Summary : Ryan whisks Stephen away to an undisclosed location for his birthday weekend, but presents aren’t the only surprises that come Stephen’s way.
A/N : 1) Set in my Stephen/Ryan series which can be found HERE, but can be read as a standalone. 2) Many thanks to
lukadreaming who has been cheerleading for this fic for a year and for doing the beta. 3) All the places described in this story do exist, but any resemblance to real people is wholly accidental. 4) Links to previous parts: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4.Stephen was well aware of the fact that running away from something that looked like a giant chicken on steroids wasn’t exactly the high point of his career as a dinosaur hunter, but the devil was very much in the driving sear at that moment.
With a muttered apology in schoolboy French, Stephen grabbed an elderly man by the shoulders and turned him around, hopefully convincing him that tangling with a black and white-feathered monstrosity wasn’t a good idea.
The man took one look at their pursuer, exclaimed, “Putain de merde!” then handed his walking stick to Stephen and said something else that he didn’t understand. But the offer of the stick was good enough for him.
Ryan had clearly had the same idea on the subject of improvised weapons and had also appropriated a walking stick from someone.
“Prenez les femmes et les enfants à sécurité,” Ryan said to the man who had just handed his stick to Stephen. He pointed to the car park. “Prenez une voiture!”
The man nodded. “J'étais dans l'armée,” he offered in return.
Stephen didn’t need a translation of that phrase. It looked like they’d gained an ally.
He turned just in time to see the giant bird appear in a gap in the tall neatly-trimmed box hedge. Quite what they could do armed with nothing more than a pair of walking sticks wasn’t entirely clear but a poke in the eye with a sharp stick might just slow the creature down.
Brandishing the walking stick like a fencing foil – and feeling mildly ridiculous – Stephen jumped out of the way of another strike from the wicked-looking beak. The bird had a habit of squawking before it struck, which was helpful as tells went, but that appeared to be its only weakness. The bird was inhumanly fast and Stephen only barely escaped the beast laying open his arm to the bone. A second slash of the beak took a good six inches off the bottom of the walking stick.
Ryan dodged to one side and dropped to the ground, taking his weight on one hand and scything both feet at the bird’s legs in the hope of bringing it to the ground. He caught their attacker unawares as both feet slammed hard into the back of its legs. As it stumbled, Stephen jumped forwards, trying to slam the steel-shod end of the blackthorn cane into the bird’s face. He only managed to catch it a glancing blow, but it was enough to confuse the creature and combined with the kick to its legs, the bird stumbled and fell in an inelegant heap of ruffled feathers.
Stephen could hear voices in both French and English calling out and it seemed their friend the former soldier, had started an evacuation, at least of the area around the gardens, but they were still lacking in any means of neutralising Big Bird. Stephen was putting his money on the creature being a gastornis, a huge, flightless bird that had lived during the Paleocene, the epoch that had followed the mass extinction of the dinosaurs at the end of the Cretaceous. Knowing that didn’t help much, but it did point to the fact that there was almost certainly an open anomaly in the vicinity, as he very much doubted that the bird was part of a foie gras breeding programme. But in a region so devoted to the product, they’d better hope the local farmers didn’t set eyes on this visitor.
A high-pitched squawk from behind the hedge attracted the gastornis’ attention and it scrambled to its taloned feet, its quarrel with Stephen and Ryan apparently forgotten, for the moment at least. With an answering, but more deep-throated squawk, the creature barrelled through the rose garden, sending a spray of petals flying into the air.
Ryan leaned on the walking stick he was carried and muttered, “That sounded suspiciously like ‘Yes, dear, mummy’s coming.’”
Stephen pulled a face at his damaged stick. “We need better weapons.”
Ryan glanced in the direction of the chateau. “I have a feeling I know where we can get some.”
Side by side, they sprinted away from the garden, herding some stragglers in front of them. Stephen could hear car engines revving, so it looked liked Ryan’s suggestion was being adopted, at least by some of the visitors. The screech of tyres on the gravelled driveway meant that at least they now had fewer people to worry about.
Stephen wondered what sort of response teams the French had for anomalies and the memory of the green-uniformed soldiers from the previous day sprang to mind. He hoped there was some means of alerting them to the appearance of one of the rips in time. The way into the main chateau was over a bridge spanning the wide, deep dry moat. They ran across it and underneath a massive gatehouse, heading towards an imposing building. Some of the windows in the chateau were open and Stephen could hear the sound of screaming coming from inside the building. Light appeared to be dancing behind one of the windows in the upper floor, sparkling like sun on water.
“Shit!” Ryan exclaimed, spotting the same thing at the same time. “There’s one inside as well.”
“Let’s hope it’s not between us and some weapons,” Stephen said as he hauled open a large wooden door. He waved his hand into the cool interior. “After you.”
Ryan gave a small bow. “Enchanté, monsieur.”
They found themselves at the foot of a wide, wooden staircase. The sound of hurrying footsteps coming towards them down a corridor showed that someone had had the presence of mind to start evacuating the party that had been engaged in a tour of the chateau while the next set of visitors entertained themselves in the ornamental gardens. Visitors of various nationalities – French, English, Dutch and German – judging by the languages Stephen could decipher pushed and jostled each other to get to the door first. It was disorderly, but not yet a total rout, and Stephen was pleased to see that the children in the group were being taken care of.
Ryan grabbed the arm of a man who was holding a young boy firmly by the hand. “What’s going on?”
If the man was surprised to be addressed in English, it didn’t show.
“Some sort of bloody great big ball of lightning appeared in one of the rooms. It’s giving off a magnetic field and a few people lost cameras and phones, then a huge turkey or something dashed out and bloody nearly took someone’s arm off.” He glanced down at his son, and said, more quietly, “It grabbed a woman and dragged her into the middle of the light. Someone tried to follow, but I don’t know what happened after that. I wanted to get my wife and kids out of there.”
A woman who was presumably his wife had a toddler balanced on one hip. “Geoff, come on!” Her voice was pleading and she clearly didn’t want to be separated from her husband by the press of people sweeping her inexorably towards the doorway.
The man called Geoff shot Ryan and Stephen an apologetic look and hurried after his wife.
The last woman down the stairs was doing her best to stay calm, calling out alternately in French and English, “Please assemble in the car park, this is a fire drill!”
Stephen gave her full marks for trying to stop a panic, but her words weren’t having much effect. He could still hear screaming from down the corridor, so it was obvious that the evacuation had by no means been totally successful.
Ryan stepped out in front of her, and demanded in a parade-ground voice, “Où sont les armes?”
The woman shot him a startled look, but responded to the obvious authority in Ryan’s voice. She pointed to a door, and Stephen could see that her hand was shaking. “Dans la salle... là-bas.”
Another scream, this time a child’s, came from the floor above them, and acting on impulse, Stephen was about to make his way down the corridor as fast as possible, when Ryan grabbed his arm.
“Hart, no, we need weapons, don’t be an idiot.”
Stephen hesitated for a moment, even though he could see the sense in Ryan’s words, it went against the grain to run away from the sound of screaming, not towards it. But his lover was right, they needed more than a couple of walking sticks to mount an effective defence against the gastornis and whatever else the anomalies had just disgorged. He turned and followed Ryan down a set of wide stone steps into a basement room, cool and rather dimly lit. From what he’d seen, the French had a touching faith in the adequacy of 40 watt light bulbs, and this room was no exception. As his eyes adjusted to the gloom, he realised they were surrounded by racks and racks of weapons, all more suited to medieval warfare rather than dealing with prehistoric creatures, but beggars certainly couldn’t be choosers.
He took one look at the huge broadswords designed to be swung two-handed and promptly went in search of something lighter. A basket-hilted rapier of Italian design caught his eye and he took it down from the wall, hefting its weight in his hand to get a feel for the weapon. It was perfectly balanced, as a couple of practice swings quickly proved.
“You need something for distance work as well,” Ryan commented and tossed a long spear over to him.
Stephen caught it in his left hand. Ryan was right. Distance was good, especially when it related to something out of an anomaly. The spear had a long, leaf-shaped blade with a cross-piece just below the head, designed to stop an enraged animal working its way up the shaft to attack the hunter. They’d also become popular weapons of war due to the ease with which the side wings could be used to yank an enemy’s shield out of his hands. He was unlikely to be facing anything with a shield today, but the other function could end up being useful.
He tucked the boar-spear under his arm and carefully pushed the sword through his belt. Ryan did the same with a somewhat heavier-looking blade. His lover was clearly backing weight over finesse on this occasion. He saw Ryan cast a regretful look at a vicious morning star, its three spiked balls dangling from the end of short lengths of chain attached to a sturdy wooden handle, before the soldier shot him a questioning look and, in response to Stephen’s nod, took the stairs up to the ground floor at a run.
Stephen followed, making sure he didn’t end up ignominiously tripping over his sword on the way. The long corridor opened into an impressive room, panelled in wood and hung with enormous floor-to-ceiling tapestries. An imposing dark oak table ran almost the whole length of the room. It looked like the anomaly had opened into the main dining hall in the chateau. A stone fireplace dominated one end of the room or rather it would have done if the anomaly that had opened inside it hadn’t been something of a scene stealer.
The screaming was coming from a boy of about 13, hiding behind a chair and doing his best to fend off a small gastornis with a heavy cast-iron poker he’d obviously snatched up from beside the fireplace. Stephen gave the kid full marks for commonsense and improvisation. Even the screaming seemed to be doing some good, as a combination of the noise and the poker seemed to be keeping one of the enormous flightless birds at bay.
“Time the nasty little fucker went home,” Ryan said quietly.
Stephen nodded. With the spears held in front of them, they advanced in step with each other. The gastornis gave an enraged squawk at something having the temerity to come between it and its prey and took a swipe at the spear. The hardened wood withstood the sharp beak and Stephen’s spear did more than ruffle a few feathers.
The bird jumped back, pain and anger jostling for precedence in its cry.
Ryan took advantage of its confusion and pressed home his own attack. His spear took the gastornis in the chest. Wounded, the bird pulled back, turned and promptly fled into the anomaly, which was exactly what they’d been hoping for.
The boy came out from behind the chair, his eyes wide with amazement.
“Comment vous appelez-vous?” Ryan demanded.
“Kevin, and I’m English,” the boy replied in a broad Black Country accent.
“So are we,” Stephen said. “Nice to meet you, Kevin.”
“I know,” Kevin said, staring at the weapons they were carrying. “I heard you swearing.”
“We do that a lot,” Ryan said. “We’ve been told that the birds dragged someone through that…” He gestured to the anomaly.
Kevin nodded. “A woman wearing a big straw hat.”
Stephen stared around the room. “Where are your parents, Kevin?” What he really wanted to know was what the hell they were playing at leaving their son behind, even in the midst of all the chaos.
“I’m here with my godmother, but they don’t let dogs in the chateau, so she stayed outside in the gardens.”
Stephen correctly interpreted the look on Ryan’s face as the soldier hefted the spear in his hand and took a step towards the anomaly. “Ryan, no, we can’t just go charging through there. We need to wait for back-up.”
“And the woman they’ve taken will be dead by then.”
“She might be dead already…” He knew perfectly well that his argument was falling on deaf ears but he had to at least make the attempt to reason with his lover.
“Then it’ll be a short trip,” Ryan countered. “If anything comes through, make sure it doesn’t get the chance to do any damage.”
“I’m coming with you.” Ryan wasn’t the only one capable of being stubborn.
Before his lover had a chance to argue, Stephen stepped up to the anomaly, turning to add, “Stay behind the chair, Kevin, we’ll be back in a few minutes. If any more birds come through, just try to stay out of sight.”
Kevin nodded and gripped his iron poker hard.
From the way the some long iron spoons hanging from hooks around the fireplace were straining towards the anomaly, Stephen presumed that the magnetic field was still strong. He took a deep breath and stepped into the anomaly.
A clear blue sky and gently rolling grasslands with a few scattered trees greeted Stephen’s eyes. He blinked in the light, looking around for any potential threats.
He could see several of the gastornis having what looked like a squabble over a body lying on the ground. The birds seemed to be fighting over their prey, with two of the largest birds unwilling to relinquish their prize. The others, including several of the young birds, circled around, looking for an opportunity to dive in and grab some food.
About 200 metres away, a second anomaly sparked in the light, presumably the one that had opening into the gardens. While he watched, a third anomaly winked into existence, disconcertingly close to another group of gastornis.
Next to him, Ryan swore under his breath. For some reasons, a small cluster of anomalies had been generated. If Connor had been here he would no doubt be itching to collect as much data as possible, but for now all Stephen and Ryan wanted to do was rescue the woman – if she was still alive – and get her back to the 21st century.
Stephen picked up a rock and threw it hard at the flock of gastornis. It struck one of them on the back and caused a loud squawk. The bird turned to one of its companions and lashed out with its beak, sending feathers flying. A moment later, Stephen realised that the squabble they’d been witnessing involved the bird that he’d struck with the boar spear, drawing blood. It seemed that the gastornis didn’t have much of a community spirit as it looked like they’d been attacking the injured bird, as well as the woman.
Ryan grabbed another rock and lobbed it into the middle of the rapidly growing melee. “If we run at them we’ll have the element of surprise on our side.”
“Usual drill?” Stephen asked.
Ryan nodded.
The usual drill meant yelling loudly. It worked. The birds scattered in surprise, stubby wings flapping and feathers puffed up. They reminded Stephen of giant versions of the geese they had seen on their forays out into the French countryside. Peaceful one moment and alarmed and noisy the next, especially if a stranger went too close.
While Ryan stood guard, jabbing his spear at any gastornis that made the mistake of coming too close, Stephen dropped his weapon and knelt on the dusty earth. The woman had curled into a defensive ball but from the quiet whimpering noises he could hear, she was still alive. He rolled her onto her back, not know whether to speak to her in French or English. She uncurled slightly and stared up at him out of terrified eyes set in a dirty, bloodied face.
“What are those things?” she asked.
That answered that question. She was English.
“Genetically modified ostriches,” Stephen lied. “Where are you hurt?”
“My arm and my leg.”
Stephen could see that there was a large tear in one sleeve and blood streaming down her arm. It looked like the gastornis has taken a chunk out of her upper arm. Probably only the adrenaline coursing through her system was stopping the woman breaking down complete.
“Come on, we can’t hang around here.” Stephen took her other arm and hauled her to her feet. Ryan wasn’t likely to be able to keep the irate birds at bay for much longer.
The woman yelled in pain as her legs took her weight. Her left trouser leg was in tatters and it looked like she had several more wounds to her leg. Stephen pulled her good arm around his shoulder and said to Ryan, “Cover me.”
Ryan picked up the spear he’d dropped and with one weapon held in each hand, he kept jabbing at their attackers as Stephen retreated to the anomaly with the injured woman.
By the time they stumbled back into the Great Hall at the chateau, Stephen was barely able to keep her upright. To his relief, Ryan was only seconds behind them. Stephen noticed that his spear point was bloody. It was clear that his retreat to the anomaly hadn’t been without incident.
“One of them wouldn’t take no for an answer,” Ryan said grimly. He looked down at the woman, now crumpled on the floor. “We need to get her out of here. I’m not sure how long the bloody things are going to play nicely and stay put. “What’s your name, madam?”
“Janice,” she gasped. “It hurts and I’m bleeding!”
“We’ll get you to safety, Janice,” Ryan said. His tone was calm and reassuring. “I’m Ryan and this is Stephen.” He glanced around and saw Kevin appearing from behind the chair, still clutching his poke. “And this is Kevin.”
The boy smiled and did his best to appear unafraid.
Stephen was worried about the amount of blood the woman was losing from the gash in her leg. The gastornis hadn’t severed an artery, as if it had, she would have bled out by now, but he needed to stop the blood loss if he could. He pulled his teeshirt over his head and wadded it up into a pad and pressed it against her leg.
“Kevin, I need your belt.”
The boy acted quickly and pulled a leather belt out of the loops in his jeans. Stephen used that to hold the blood-soaked pad in place.
“We need something to carry her on,” Kevin said, demonstrating quick wits. He looked at one of the many tapestries hanging on the walls. “Will that do?”
Ignoring the fact that the wall hangings were probably worth a king’s ransom, Stephen nodded. Kevin hauled one of the smaller ones off the wall and laid it on the floor while Stephen and Ryan did their best to manoeuvre the injured woman onto it. Stephen could see now that she had multiple injures all over her body, not just on her arms and legs.
Ryan handed his spear to Kevin and took up the front corners of the makeshift stretcher and Stephen was just about to get into position at the rear when a loud screech told him that one of the gastornis had decided to follow them through the anomaly.
“The floors are level,” Stephen said. “Drag her out while I run interference.”
The look on Ryan’s face told him he wasn’t happy with that suggestion, but there was no time for an argument. He started to tow the woman out of the room, turning the tapestry into a makeshift travois, with Kevin following behind, his poker abandoned in favour of Ryan’s spear.
“Shut the door!” Stephen called as they made their way out of the room. “I don’t want this thing getting past me and coming after you.”
The gastornis lunged at him. Stephen jabbed at it with the spear and then side-stepped, manoeuvring around an ornate chair. The huge oak table was now at his back and on impulse, Stephen jumped up onto it, taking advantage of his the extra height to enable him to thrust down at the bird. But the gastornis was agile and fast. It evaded his thrusts and sprang up onto the end of the table, its sharp claws tapping on the wood as it stalked towards Stephen along the polished oak. He lunged at it with the spear, hoping that the attack would unbalance his opponent.
His hopes were doomed to crash and burn and the bird side-stepped neatly and closed its beak around the shaft of the spear. With one shake of its powerful head, the gastornis succeeded in wrenching the weapon out of Stephen’s hand and throwing it to the floor.
It lunged again.
Stephen jumped up, catching hold of the large, ornate chandelier, hoisting his legs up out of the way of the bird’s attack. He bunched up his legs and used his weight to swing the chandelier back and then forwards. The creature looked up, wanting to know where its quarry had gone. At that moment, Stephen kicked out with both feet, swinging towards the irate gastornis. He caught it in the head and bowled the bird over, send it crashing to the floor.
The sound of clapping came from the doorway.
Stephen dropped lightly back onto the oak table.
“You make a most convincing Errol Flynn, Dr Hart.” Capitaine Etienne Lafarge stood in the doorway with a weapon that Stephen didn’t recognise held to his shoulder, pointing at the gastornis. “My grandmother would love to meet you, I’m sure. I would, however, advise caution. She has been married seven times already.”
The gastornis got back to its feet and stared up at Stephen malevolently. It lunged and he jumped up again, grabbing at the chandelier for a second time and hoping that the ornate plasterwork on the ceiling would continue to bear his weight.
A crackle in the air like static electricity cut over the sound of the bird’s battle cry and the animal jumped as though a charge had gone through it, its limbs shaking like a giant puppet master was tugging on its strings. The French special forces captain lowered his weapon and stared dispassionately as the gastornis twitched violently and then collapsed in a pile of feathers.
“Might I suggest we take this opportunity to leave?” Lafarge said in his almost accentless English.
“What the hell is that?” Stephen said, staring at the bulky black rifle in the man’s hands.
The Frenchman smiled. “There will be time for explanations later, I promise. In the meantime, please gather your weapons. We still have civilians to evacuate and I am sure it is too much to hope for that you and Captain Ryan will join them.” The man’s smile became somewhat wolfish. “Our friend over there will not awaken for some time, and when he does, making sport of civilians will not be the foremost thought in whatever passes for his brain. Come, let us go a-hunting together.”
Lafarge stood aside to allow Stephen through the door.
Even up close, Stephen didn’t recognise the weapon the man was carrying, but he was itching for a better look.
It looked very much like the ARC was not the only organisation with experience of dealing with the anomalies.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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Date: 2012-09-12 07:01 pm (UTC)And yes, Capitaine Lafarge, it's entirely too much to hope Stephen and Ryan will make like good little boys and evacuate with the rest of the civilians, lol!
I would NOT like to be the guy getting the bill for damages on this jaunt, that's for sure!
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Date: 2012-09-13 07:57 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-09-12 07:05 pm (UTC)Phew that the woman survived the attack.
A cluster of anomalies!
Stephen as Errol Flynn *swoons*
And a French team!
Awesome!
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Date: 2012-09-13 07:58 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-09-12 07:36 pm (UTC)*from erotic excitement and bated breath*
Fantastic!
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Date: 2012-09-13 07:59 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-09-12 07:54 pm (UTC)Brilliant chapter.
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Date: 2012-09-13 07:59 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-09-12 08:42 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-09-13 07:59 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-09-12 09:09 pm (UTC)The chateau is best setting ever for an anomaly - all those amazing weapons!
The action was brilliant and I'm loving the supporting cast, particularly Etienne, Kevin and the old codger with the walking stick!
Totally loving every word of this story!
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Date: 2012-09-13 08:00 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-09-12 09:44 pm (UTC)So, what is Lafarge doing with an EMD?
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Date: 2012-09-13 08:00 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-09-12 09:44 pm (UTC)Loved the arrival of Capitaine Lafarge, although I rather doubt the boys will evauate ;) EMP?
*purrs*
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Date: 2012-09-13 08:01 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-09-12 10:49 pm (UTC)Eeeek, what happened to the dog??
Yay for Kevin and LOL re the tapestry. Lafarge's PR can deal with the damages. Old-fashioned weapons rule.
Loved Stephen doing his action heroics in style (and bare chested) and LOL at Lafarge's comment re his grandmother!
no subject
Date: 2012-09-13 08:01 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-09-12 11:02 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-09-13 08:01 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-09-12 11:04 pm (UTC)Stephen swinging from a chandelier oh my it's warm in here....
If Lester has to pay for that tapestry, he is not going to be pleased at all! *grins at thought*
“Genetically modified ostriches,” Stephen lied. “Where are you hurt?”
Good answer, quick change of subject. Smooth.
“Putain de merde!” *snorfle* Yep, I think that's the perfect phrase to describe the situation...
The "usual drill meant yelling very loudly."
LOL.
But only two more parts? *sniffles*
no subject
Date: 2012-09-13 08:02 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-09-12 11:13 pm (UTC)Wonderful descriptions!!
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Date: 2012-09-13 08:02 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-09-12 11:20 pm (UTC)black camo pants and slinky jeans......
"Stephen jumped up, catching hold of the large, ornate chandelier, hoisting his legs up out of the way of the bird’s attack. He bunched up his legs and used his weight to swing the chandelier back and then forwards."
That arse......*thud*
no subject
Date: 2012-09-13 08:03 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-09-13 01:52 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-09-13 08:03 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-09-13 02:09 am (UTC)fabulous dialogue and fabulous action - and I'm already falling for Capitaine Etienne
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Date: 2012-09-13 08:03 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-09-13 07:36 pm (UTC)Just what I was thinking! *g* Had to be done, though!
Terror birds are always good value in a story! :)
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Date: 2012-09-13 07:39 pm (UTC)I do like terror birds.
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Date: 2012-09-14 04:18 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-09-14 08:08 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-09-14 07:18 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-09-14 07:43 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-09-15 02:49 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-09-16 04:33 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-09-16 04:59 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-09-19 07:22 pm (UTC)Of course Ryan wanted to go through tht anomaly to save the woman. I love my hero boys! The kid, Kevin, was also pretty amazing ^_^
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Date: 2012-09-19 10:31 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-09-22 10:25 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-09-22 12:06 pm (UTC)*g* Technically, Matt might have already appeared. He was in the possible prequel with Ryan that I posted for the relevant fest.
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Date: 2012-09-23 09:20 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-09-22 10:53 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-09-23 07:15 am (UTC)