Chapter 8: Bette Noir

There was no disturbance for the length Balto and Jenna slept, and they woke up early in the morning, heading to town quickly to make sure nothing had happened to the others. They were fine; Abaddon told Balto and Jenna that nothing had even come into the town. “All the bacilli are dead,” said Balto. “There are no base forms of either strain left alive, and I took care of their remains.” “Good,” said Abaddon. “The pathogens in their bodies could have been a threat. What shall you do now?” “That’s just it; I don’t know what to do next. Sorrow didn’t send me a clue yesterday.” “That’s odd. I wish I could help in this matter, but Sorrow did not tell anyone which advance forms he would send until right before they were to leave. He wanted to make sure there was no chance any information could reach you before he intended.” “In that case, I think I’d better stay in town. He may be trying to do something behind my back.”

Sorrow was standing at the foot of the canyon, a new creature waiting beside him. A strep throat advance form ran up to them, holding a clue envelope that it hadn’t dropped. “He’s not at the warehouse,” it said. “I couldn’t smell him there.” “In that case,” said Sorrow, “he must be in town right now. He wouldn’t be stupid enough to go back to that hunting shack.” He leaned down, speaking to the monster next to him. “You must go in and find him, now.” He leered at the beast. “You remember what he did,” he said. “And you hate him for it…” It growled, and looked down, coughing weakly and grindingly, then looked back up, its breath raspy, staring at Sorrow with one eye twitching slightly. “Now go,” said Sorrow. It roared and leaped off the hill, sprinting towards Nome with blistering speed. A tetanus advance form came up to Sorrow. “That one looks angry,” it said. “Who is he? I’ve never seen him before.” “Oh,” said Sorrow, “he knows this place.”

Balto and Jenna were enjoying a lengthy time alone to kiss, something they hadn’t done very much of for the last few days. When they moved apart, Balto stared into Jenna’s beautiful face, and she chuckled lovingly. Suddenly, he heard a humming in his ears, and yellow haze crept into the corners of his vision. It was his virus sense, telling him something was wrong…behind him. He acted like nothing was amiss. “Lie down,” he said to Jenna, in a romantic voice. “What?” she said, grinning. “Trust your man,” he said. Jenna began giggling and lay down. Balto did so as well…and flung his virus arms up, catching the leaping beast in the jaw. It yelled and flew over them, bending its body to land on its feet, carving trenches in the snow as it skidded to a stop. Balto stood up, and Jenna stood and backed away. “Nice try,” Balto said to the creature, taking a few steps towards it. “So which one are you?” It looked at him, an odd smile on its face. “Don’t you remember me?” it said, with a voice that ground like gravel in a blender. Its four-legged mottled beige body was long and sleek, but the bases of its shoulders, neck, and hips looked like out-of-place branches off of the body. Down the length of its back, from shoulders to tail, it was covered with long, limp flagella, which simply hung down its sides. The body ended in a tail, which was flat as a board and long, with peculiar-looking articulated bony ridges on both sides. Its head was somewhat flat, and wider near the neck than the nose and its mouth stretched all the way back along its jaw. Four blood red eyes with strangely slit pupils sat in two pairs on its head, one pair on each side, each buried in a small raised hump of flesh. Balto used his virus vision to try and deduce which strain this was, and he could see that the creature’s heart was beating at incredible speed, even for just having been running. “320 beats per minute?” he thought. Random, quick sparks shot through its brain and nerves, one of which caused the twitching of its eye. Balto wondered why its breath was so grating; that he couldn’t infer from the virus vision, although its throat glowed brightly. “I have been here before,” it said. Balto looked confused. “You’ve never been with Sorrow’s goons.” “You’re right. My statement was phrased badly. My immediate kin have been in this town before.” Balto still didn’t understand, so the monster kept speaking. “Come now, don’t you have a brain to remember with? It was just earlier this winter…” Balto froze, and so did Jenna. The creature continued, looking at Jenna. “There was one little girl…” It held two claws less than an inch apart. “She came this close.” It looked back at Balto. “I am here for that girl, and for the town, but I’m going to take you down first. Yes, that’s right. I am diphtheria.” His voice turned to a vicious growl. “And I remember you.”

Balto spoke, fighting back his dread. “I hope you don’t expect to be able to harm anyone here. Not while I’m alive.” “Oh, I will,” said the advance form. “It would have been better for them if you had just let them die earlier, rather than have them suffer by my hand now.” It raised its tail, and it became clear what the bony ridges were. Starting from the bottom, each section of the ridge sprang out to the side, ending as a horizontally pointed spike. At the end of the tail, twin blades, each about twice as long as one spike, sprang out upwards and were pulled to face sideways by some unseen tendons. In mere seconds, the monster’s rather innocuous tail had transformed into a ghastly weapon. Balto extended the virus arms’ teeth, and they growled. “I plucked this town from your jaws before,” he said. “I can do it again.” The beast snarled. “Things are a little different now.” Balto looked up at his virus arms, then back at the advance form. “You’ve got that right.” They walked back and forth slowly, staring into each other’s eyes. Balto now knew why the creature’s heart and brain were behaving so strangely; the diphtheria bacilli were infecting and inflaming them, giving the creature incredible reflexes and speed and massive stamina. Balto decided to even the odds and released a small amount of Ebola into his body. Trails of blood leaked from his eyes, and this clearly disturbed the beast, who knew what Balto was doing. Finally running out of patience, the beast screamed in rage and flung himself at Balto, who deflected a murderous swing of its tail. It landed, and he turned quickly to face it again. “I am Backlash,” it said, “and I’m back for round two!” They began sparring, with the beast using mostly his tail, flailing it like a huge spiked whip. Balto quickly noticed that this enemy was far more skilled than his previous foes, with far faster reactions and excellent control over his attacks. He didn’t notice quite fast enough, though, and three spikes pierced one of his virus arms on a vicious sideways swing, drawing a yell from his lips. However, he was quick to hit back, knocking the creature off balance just enough to get an opening. He striped the monster’s face with the extended teeth of one virus arm, opening several bloody incisions. This didn’t exactly please Backlash, and he redoubled his attack, seizing Balto and raising him up over his head, smashing him into the ground behind him. He turned around, preparing to inflict pain with his tail, but Balto was ready for him, and punched him in the jaw with both virus arms, lifting him off the ground with the force of the blow. The fight raged on, brutal blows landing without effect on the opponent’s guard, transisting fluidly into further attacks. Once, they both attacked at the same time, and their blows smashed together, knocking each combatant away from the other. Balto prepared to attack again, but surprisingly, Backlash held up a foot in a gesture that beckoned for a pause. Balto nodded and sat down, panting, glad of the respite.

Backlash sat in a similar manner, settling onto the snow calmly. He took a deep breath, beige vapor drifting from his leathered throat as he exhaled. “I can hear the coughing,” he said softly, closing his eyes, seeming to savor the thought of a town full of mortally ill children. “You’re vile even for one of them,” Jenna spat, and the beast smiled. “Do you enjoy thinking about that?” Balto asked, his voice conveying his horror and disgust at Backlash’s attitude. The monster opened his eyes and looked at him, shaking his head. “Why are you angry with me? You shouldn’t even be fighting me now. You owe me.” Balto scoffed. “Really? How’s that?” “Think about it, wolf-dog. If it weren’t for me, weren’t for my kin, you would probably still be hearing that every day of your life. Think about you and your precious girl; you may never have been together if not for me. If I hadn’t come here, you’d still be living out on that boat of yours, an outcast, distrusted by humans and despised by dogs. You owe me your whole life.” Balto looked down, trying to hold himself together, emotionally shaken by the memories, bitter as Wormwood, that Backlash’s words summoned to his mind. “I made your life,” Backlash said, smiling wickedly. Then, Balto slowly raised his head again. “No,” he said softly. “I made my life. I had some help, but not from you. Your logic doesn’t make sense. You blame me for killing your kin, but then you say I shouldn’t fight you because it made my life? Is my saving the town a bad thing or a good thing?” Backlash couldn’t answer, and Balto smiled. “I didn’t think you’d be smart enough. By the way, it felt great to watch the kids getting their shots, watching the antitoxin free them from the grasp of your little friends. I bet the carpenter smashed up the coffins with a look of joy on his face. What do you think? After all, you were there…oh, wait, I forgot. Your brothers were all dead and rotting by then.” Balto’s goading was working Backlash into a rage, and he began walking toward him, quivering with fierce anger. “C’mon,” Balto said. “You’re boring me. You’re posing less danger to the town now than your brothers did when they still could.” Backlash roared and leapt across the remaining space between him and Balto, rolling his body to give his tail some speed. Balto put up his virus arms, ready to block the spiked weapon, but it turned out the tail was only a ruse; Backlash lowered it in midair and seized Balto’s neck with his front feet in a fearsome grip, tightening his hold until Balto choked and struggled for air. “DIE!” Backlash yelled. “DIE, YOU SCUM!” Balto had no intention of dying, and Backlash, in his anger, had forgotten that his adversary had both virus arms free, and that he himself had no way to block. Balto wound back and gave Backlash a pile driver punch to the face, sending him flying away. Balto himself flew backwards, unintentionally shoved away by Backlash right before the blow landed. The beast sprawled in the snow and slowly got to his feet, dazed. That feeling flew away rapidly, however, as he saw where he was. He walked down the new street, perpendicular to and slightly smaller than the main street.

He saw the house.

He stared. “Could it be?” he said quietly, closing his eyes, thinking deeply for a moment. An image came into his head, a small girl, excited by a present she had just received, a miniature dogsled.

“I love these runners! I love this brush bow! I love this sled!”

He smiled, turning his head and looking at the door of the house. “Oh, yes…oh, yes…” he breathed. He turned his head absently back toward the main street, having heard a noise, just in time to see a virus arm pound into his face. He screamed and flew into the air, somersaulting, hitting the snow hard and tumbling through it. Balto turned and sprinted up the front of the building next to the house that held Backlash’s interest, pushing himself off when he neared the top. Backlash came to rest on his back, looking up through eyes fuzzy with pain. Ten feet above him, Balto plummeted like a meteor, virus arms aimed for his chest. He rolled out of the way, and Balto smashed into the ground, engulfed in a white shower of snow. Backlash got back to his feet, looking at the house, and then at Balto and Jenna. He moved his gaze to Jenna’s eyes. “She caught it here, didn’t she?” he said, a mix of reverie and delight in his face. He turned and faced the door. “Now, the threat returns.” “NO!” Jenna screamed desperately. “BALTO, STOP HIM!” Balto dove between Backlash and the door, putting up his virus arms, and Backlash began spewing diphtheria bacilli from his mouth, a stream of contagion that Balto found difficult to block even with his practice on the mountain. Still, although it was difficult, he succeeded, and when he was sure Backlash wasn’t getting anywhere, he used the same trick he had before, cleansing up the stream of bacteria. When the flames reached Backlash’s mouth, there was an explosion, and he was hurled into the air. After doing an awkward midair backflip, he landed on his feet facing a wall on the opposite side of the street. He ran a step or two up the wall, and Balto did the same on his side. The two foes flew towards each other, upside down, punching each other in midair. Backlash spun around and crashed into a wall, but Balto landed safely. As the beast stood up, Balto noticed that his eyes were glowing, and suddenly Backlash charged, drawing on power gained from diphtheria bacilli inside him, making himself faster and stronger. He jumped over one of Balto’s swings and ducked under the other, grabbing Balto and tossing him up over his back. As he flew almost straight up, Balto grabbed onto a roof and stopped his flight, hurling himself downward and cannoning into Backlash, who took longer to get up this time. He coughed and spluttered, and Balto cocked his head. “What’s the matter? Need to strangle yourself to be quick?” He looked at his virus arms. “Too bad I don’t.”

Balto leapt over Backlash’s head, punching him even before he could turn around. By the time he did, Balto was ready, and they engaged in another brawl, composed almost entirely of attempted punches, but Backlash fell behind as Balto swung the virus arms in a mind-numbing blur, finally overcoming Backlash’s extra speed, smashing him in the face several times and ending with a mighty blow that knocked him into the wall. Balto came up to him, grabbed him, and went to punch again, but the advance form was just fast enough to dodge this one. Without hesitation, he yelled and twisted his body, kicking Balto with both of his hind legs, sending him crashing into a pile of boards across the street. The monster walked up to him and grabbed him, raising his spiked tail for a killing blow. “Not terribly much of a fight for Ebola, eh?” he said. He tilted his tail back, and suddenly, pain shot through it. He screamed as Jenna, who was biting onto the very end of the tail so she wouldn’t be hit by the spikes, hauled him backward. “No, Jenna!” Balto shouted quickly. “Let him go! Let him go!” Backlash looked back at Jenna and shook his head. “He’s right. That’s a no-no.” Flexing his tail muscles, he yanked Jenna towards him and kicked her away, sending her slamming into a brick wall, and she fell to the snow, stunned. Balto screamed in fury, throwing a punch at Backlash. The beast blocked it with one foot and punched Balto in the face, knocking his head against the beams. He picked up a board and smashed Balto in the face with it so hard the wood shattered, finishing the battle with a straight punch to the nose, nearly knocking Balto unconscious. Backlash looked back and forth at the pair, breathing rapidly and clutching his throat, gagging, recovering after a few seconds. He smiled, looking back at the house. “This will be a far better revenge,” he said, opening the front door and walking in. He went upstairs, negotiating the halls slowly and silently until he found what he was looking for: a small bedroom with an open door. Inside, a little girl slept peacefully on a bed. Backlash grinned.

“Hello, Rosy.”

He walked into the room, laughing under his breath and whispering wickedly. “You almost escaped it. But not quite.” He put his front legs on the bed. “Now, I’ll give it to you so badly they’ll never cure you.” He opened his mouth, bacilli-laden saliva coating his teeth, preparing to bite…
Balto wrapped one of his virus arms around Backlash’s head, preventing him from biting or making noise. With the other, he broke the monster’s back. His tail went limp, along with his back legs, and he squirmed and emitted muffled screams. “Did you honestly think I would let you get away with that?” said Balto. He walked out of the room with Backlash just as Rosy woke up. “Jenna?” she said. Jenna was standing at the door, and went in hurriedly to see if Rosy was okay. “Hi, girl,” Rosy whispered, petting her. Jenna licked her face, relieved to see that she was alright, then went outside as Rosy fell back asleep. Outside, Balto had set the monster down, and it lay there, gasping for breath and seizing from the pain. “So…what now?” Backlash said. “Don’t tell me, I already know. You’re one of those filthy do-gooders. You would never kill a helpless opponent.” Balto had no pity in his face. “You just tried to,” he said, gesturing with his head toward Rosy’s house. “But I’m not going to kill you.” He leaned into Backlash’s face. “I’m going to let what you are kill you.” He pulled Backlash’s head back, and lightly punched the neck. Backlash went to speak, but as he inhaled, there was a wet sucking sound…and then, no breath, no speech. Backlash put a foot on his throat, opening and closing his mouth. He fell to the ground, writhing, unable to get air. “What did you do?” asked Jenna. “Diphtheria causes a tough membrane to form in the throat of its victims,” Balto replied. “I moved it.” Backlash choked and spasmed only a few more seconds, and finally died. Jenna was breathing hard and trembling, and Balto comforted her. “It…it almost killed Rosy,” Jenna gasped. “Don’t worry, Jenna,” said Balto, “she’s okay. She’ll be alright.” He looked at Backlash and spat on him. “Maybe this’ll teach Sorrow to be more careful.”

The next morning, Sorrow and his henchmen waited for Backlash’s return. Sorrow personally couldn’t wait to hear the story. When a staph advance form called his name, he at first thought Backlash had arrived, but he realized that the tone of its voice was not a pleased one. He went out the door, where everyone was congregating, and looked up. Backlash was strung up on a pole right outside, hanging by his tail. Sorrow walked up to him as other advance forms studied the body. “There are so few wounds,” one said. “How did he die?” Sorrow had identified the cause instantly. “Clever boy,” he said, angrily. He reached into Backlash’s throat and yanked out the membrane. The air in Backlash’s lungs escaped, and blood flowed from his now-shredded throat. “This,” Sorrow said, crushing the membrane, forcing diphtheria-laden fluid to spurt out. He flung it down on the ground and looked skyward, screaming with frustration and rage. He turned to the gathered advance forms. “BRING ME HIS HEAD!”