by C. G Harris
"What are you doing? Throw it!"
Alex's voice was a high shriek of panic as she searched for more of the spiked ammunition, but I waited, staring downrange, waiting for the perfect moment. I watched Pogo out of the corner of my eye, then, just when he released a new floating projectile, I turned and launched my spike at him, or rather, his balloon.
The mime stretched his arm out but didn't have the range to protect it. The moment my spikes made impact, they caused a chain reaction. The balloons trailing toward the bar exploded in succession. More importantly, so did the remaining bouquet in Pogo's hands. The confinement of the mime's box contained the detonation just long enough for us to see the gruesome splatter of clown parts on the imaginary walls before they dissolved, and it all fell to the ground in a box shaped shluck of goo. The sight was so gruesome, I had to turn away and hold a hand over my mouth to keep from retching.
"Nooooooo."
A graveled voice came from behind the battlefield. Until now, Gastrith had been content to watch from the sidelines, content to let the Woebegone fight it out for his entertainment, but Pogo's gruesome outburst had hit a chord. He stood up and pointed his staff at me, lowering the jester's head in my direction.
"How dare you defy my will?"
For the first time, I noticed the face on the staff was animated. It looked scared ... no, horrified, as if it were a real person trapped on the head on this Hellion’s staff.
He swung it from side to side, and I realized that was how Gastrith saw. The staff—or rather the jester's head on top of it—acted as his eyes.
"You have taken my prize, and now I will take yours."
His staff swept over to where Alex stood.
"Oh, I don't think so, Big Ugly."
I charged him and launched my Whip Crack at the forearm that held the staff. Whirring blades wrapped around his forearm to grind and rasp at the skin but did not chew through. Not all the way at least. Gastrith reached over and untangled the weapon from his arm, throwing it away like a wayward string. I saw where the blades had bitten into him. He was bleeding ... could bleed, but it was little more than a flesh wound.
Gastrith reached out for Alex, but she would not go down without a fight. "You will make a fine addition to my collection ... once you are broken."
She launched her Song Wraiths, but they just bounced off the Hellion's thick hide. She might as well have thrown toothpicks for all the good they had done. His hand wrapped around Alex's neck, and Gastrith hefted her ten feet in the air as if she weighed nothing. She struggled, beating at his wrists, but to no avail.
"Yes, a nice addition indeed."
Gastrith turned his attention to Hula Harry's as if I weren't even there. "But first, this."
He took a couple of steps toward the bar, passing me without a thought. I decided to remind him. I wrapped my Whip Crack around his neck from behind and pulled as hard as I could. The demon gagged, stumbling backward. He threw Alex against the outside wall of the bar out of surprise, and her head crashed into the heavy, crushed cars. She didn't move after that. She laid limp and still on the ground.
"You bastard! If she's hurt I'm going to tear you—"
I never got to finish my threat. Gastrith simply reached back, plucked me up by my throat, then unwrapped my Whip Crack like a cheap necklace.
"I think I'll send you to The Pools after all. When you return, if you survive long enough to get your memories back, you will know I have your mate. She will be broken by then. She will be mine."
A cruel grin spread across his face as he lifted me higher into the air. "But first, watch me destroy your precious sanctuary."
He raised his staff and drove the butt end at one of the walls. The impact of the blow was far more than it should have been. Gastrith was big, but he wasn't a seventy-foot giant. His staff, however, hit with the power of a C-4 shaped charge, sending crushed cars flying as if they were crumpled paper.
This was it. I'd had a good run, but my mouth had bitten off more than my body could chew. There was no fighting this demon. My best weapon barely scratched him, and he had a car exploding staff with the court jester sight option on top. He would crush me like a grape, and there was nothing I could do to stop him. My only regret was Alex. Why did she have to come? This would have been so much easier had I been alone. Well, maybe not easier ... but at least Alex wouldn't be hurt.
I willed her to open her eyes. She just laid there, motionless on the ground. Part of me hoped she was dead. At least Gastrith wouldn't be able to enslave her that way. We would suffer the Gnashing Fields together and come back out scarred, but whole again.
Gastrith raised his staff and prepared to drive it down again. His grip on my throat was unrelenting, and I began to lose consciousness. My eyes fluttered, and the world started to go black, then something else happened.
Not a strike from Gastrith's staff. Something deep and booming. I realized I was now on the ground, and I looked up, rubbing my throat with my hands. I gasped for air, struggling to pull in all I could, then I saw it ... or rather her. Mastema. She swooped in above Gastrith, holding a pair of ancient looking flintlock pistols in her hands. She fired at him again and again, the boom echoing so loudly I had to put my hands over my ears. Gastrith's chest, shoulder, and thigh opened up in a myriad of gruesome injuries. They looked more like outward explosions than bullet wounds, causing him to stagger back with every explosive blast.
As far as I knew, guns didn't work in Hell, so this pair of calamity creations must have been made specially for her.
Mastema didn't have her blindfold, and she darted around Gastrith like a falcon playing with its food. He swept his staff through the air in wild arcs, but it was no use. As if to punctuate her dominance, Mastema drew down on the head at the top of his staff and with a final blow detonated the little jester in a shower of smoke, flame, and splintered wood.
Gastrith screamed, and his hands went to his face as if she had torn his eyes right out of their sockets. As soon as he stopped fighting, Mastema holstered her weapons in a pair of belts strapped to her thighs, then went in for the kill.
The ferocity with which she tore at Gastrith reminded me of a raptor. She slashed and cut at his neck and torso with her claws. He went down hard on his back, and she stood there on his chest, peering around, looking as impassive as a cat. When Gastrith didn't move anymore, she took off, soaring away without glancing in our direction or acknowledging that we were even there. She just abandoned me to pick up the pieces alone.
Chapter Forty-Five
"Hey, can we have another round over here?" Alex waved her hand and shot our Topside bartender a gleeful grin.
"Whoa, what has you in such a good mood? Remember what happened last time we had a few drinks up here? It wasn't pretty."
"We're celebrating. How often do we get to do that? And for doing good deeds."
"I know. I'm surprised you're not all itchy from the experience."
Alex backhanded me in the chest. "I'm not allergic to doing good deeds; it's just detrimental to my career, that's all. A point I've been rethinking quite a bit lately."
I started to ask what she meant by that when the bartender interrupted us with a matched pair of Jack and Cokes. He set them down on the table and swept up the empties.
"You two planning to pay for these this time, or are you going to find another patsy to foot the bill?" His voice grumbled with a distinct mix of admiration and disdain.
I held up a one-hundred-dollar bill followed by a grin.
"This one's all on us today."
The bartender took the cash without another word and headed back to the bar. I tried to act casual, but Alex had turned into a stone staring statue.
"Where did you get that?"
I shrugged. "Cash doesn't have much value in The Nine. You'd be surprised how easy it is to lay your hands on it, if you know who to talk to."
Alex shook her head. "Sometimes you amaze me. Usually it's because you've done something so stupid, but this ... t
his is pretty good."
I let out a laugh. "Easy on the compliments, or you're going to get itchy again. And the cash is nothing.” I pulled a folded napkin out of my pocket and unwrapped it to reveal four white pills.
"What are those?" Her eyes narrowed in suspicion.
I sat back as if to say I couldn't believe she didn't know already.
"These are Excedrin hangover pills on steroids. Two of these, and you'll feel right as rain back in The Nine."
Alex eyed me with more than a little suspicion. "Yeah, right. What's in them?"
I folded the napkin and put the pills in my pocket for safe keeping. "I have no idea, but I'm pretty sure they would get us both arrested if we were caught with them up here. Either way, I swear they work. A friend was nice enough to give me a few, and I thought I'd share them with you."
Alex picked up her glass and smiled. "In that case, here's to doing good deeds."
We both took a drink and sat back in our chairs.
"How long do you think it will take to rebuild Hula Harry's?"
I shrugged. "He has lots of help. Zoe had half the Freshborns in The Nine working for him. I'll bet he'll be up and running in a few weeks. Plus, word's out that a couple of demon fighting Judas Agents like to frequent the place. I hear business is already beating down his door to hang out with the cool kids.”
"Are you going to fess up on how you beat that guy?" Alex gave me a shove with her elbow. "I have a bet with Dan that says Gastrith tripped and fell on his own staff."
Alex had woken after the fight to see Gastrith limping away with his chest ripped out, and the only Woebegone left standing had been me. Too bad Mastema hadn't finished the job. Maybe it was against Hellion code. Maim, not murder, or something like that. Either way, I doubted we would be seeing Gastrith anytime in the near future. At least I hoped not. If I saw any clown again, it'd be too soon.
"Maybe he just got tired of punching my face."
Alex laughed at that.
"Doubtful. I mean who would get tired of that?"
That even made me laugh, but I settled down a little faster than she did.
"What's wrong with you?" Alex gave me poke. "This is supposed to be a celebration, remember? Why do you look so glum all of a sudden?"
"Just thinking of the trouble I've dragged you into lately. Simeon, Jake, Dan and his bar, Zoe."
Alex put a finger in my face and leaned in close at that last one. "I still owe you for leaving me at Dan's when you went after Zoe. I haven't forgotten about that. Partners don't leave each other behind."
I looked down at the table. "I know. The risk was so high, though. I didn't want you to get caught with the shield generator, or worse, be linked to what had happened to the Wax Worx." I lowered my voice even though no one around would know what I was talking about. "Word is they're looking pretty hard for whoever's responsible for that one."
Alex reached up and grabbed my ear lobe and pulled it toward her, making me wince and just about fall out of my chair.
"Get this straight." She spoke directly into my ear like a microphone. "If I want to take the risk, it is my choice, not yours. If you ever leave me like that again, I will tear off both your ears and feed them to my goldfish."
She let go, and I sat back up again, rubbing my ear. "All right, all right. No more partner ditching, but only if you promise to leave my ears out of it from now on."
"Fine, no pinching, twisting, pulling, or nibbling."
My eyes went up to her, and I stuttered like an idiot. "Wait...nib..."
Alex grinned in satisfaction and took a drink of her Jack and Coke. "Besides, that other stuff has me just as curious as you. I may not want to admit it, but I want to know what Simeon's up to as much as you do. Jake too for that matter. And Zoe is my friend as well. I want to know she's all right."
My eyebrows went up in astonishment.
"What? This whole train thing put a few things in perspective for me. Like maybe there are things more important than my comfy bed at the Agency."
"Okay, stop." I put my hand on Alex's head and felt for a fever. "Someone call an ambulance. My partner's been poisoned." I raised my voice and looked around the bar in a panic. "Someone poisoned my partner with a conscience."
Alex slapped my arm. "Shut up. All I'm saying is, maybe I've been riding you a little too hard. I could lighten up a little."
I smiled. "You've seen what kind of trouble I get into on my own? Don't you dare."
Alex laughed again, then we sat there just enjoying each other's presence for a moment.
"I'm glad you're all right," I said, finally breaking the silence between us. "I mean in that fight, I was worried you were gone. I'm glad you're okay."
Alex shouldered me and grinned. "Thanks. If it means anything, I'm glad you're not dead too."
I snorted out a laugh then sipped my drink. When I put it down, Alex had her eyes glued on something across the room. Her mouth was half open, and she had her palms pressed hard against the table.
I spun, looking for the trouble that had her so spooked, but all I saw were a few innocuous patrons, and a big screen television ... Then the scene changed, and I saw what had Alex so worked up.
Simeon Scott spoke to a reporter on the screen. He was, of course, in the hijacked body of Ryan Rokuda, now sole owner and president of MiRACL, The Micro-Robotic Advanced Cure Leaders company. There was no sound, but the caption under his name read: Unprecedented inoculation trials granted through legislature.
"Sir," I shouted at the bartender. "Can you turn that up for a moment?"
He grabbed a remote from behind the counter in time for us the hear the tail end of the report.
"... is a revolution in medical technology, and we want to be able to share it with everyone," Simeon was saying. "With the airborne inoculation program, our nanites can be transmitted from person to person everywhere, inoculating the world population without the need to go to a doctor or clinic. Our nanites can be shared on a bus, at a restaurant, to our families in our own homes. We have all but wiped out cancer and now diabetes. They have even cured me of autism. Given enough time and development, there is nothing our nanites cannot cure within the human body. They should be shared the way we have fluoride in our water or oxygen in the air. With the approval of the airborne inoculation program, we are one step closer to making that a reality. It's only a control group for now, of course, but soon everyone in the world will benefit from the medical miracles we manufacture."
The camera switched back to a visibly stunned interviewer.
"What about those who might not want to be inoculated? Shouldn't people have a choice?"
The camera changed back to Simeon again and closed in on his bright, smiling face.
"Of course. We will always have protocols in place to protect the rights of those who wish to remain ..."
Simeon stopped talking, and his face fell slack for a moment, then he began to look around as if he were lost. The reporter tried to follow his manic movements with her microphone, then when she couldn't, she pulled back to speak herself.
"Mr. Rokuda, are you all right?"
She thrust the handheld microphone at Simeon again, and he seemed to focus on the camera as if noticing it for the first time. He stepped into it, moving much too close, causing his face to get big and go out of focus.
"He's lying. Simeon is a liar." His voice was loud, and there were muffled sounds of a struggle as the cameraman tried to wrestle his lens free of desperate hands. "Please help me. I'm Ryan. Simeon has my glasses, and I can't see. I can't see, and I can't get out."
Thanks for Reading!
Did you love Artful Evil? Join the C.G. Harris Legion to receive book intel, useless trivia, special giveaways, plus you’ll learn about Hula Harry and get his Drink of the Week. https://www.cgharris.net/legion-sign-up-page
* * *
Not quite ready to leave, The Nine? If you haven’t read book one, The Nine, or New Dominion, now is the perfect time.
New Series by
C.G. Harris
* * *
Now on Audio!
Available on all audiobook platforms
The Judas Files are also available on audio read by award-winning narrator, MacLeod Andrews.
* * *
https://www.cgharris.net/audiobooks-cgharris
* * *
Here’s what listeners are saying:
“The book are a perfect blend of gritty thriller, heartwarming hidden hero, and dry humor. The narrator Andrews does an amazing job of bringing the characters and story to life.”
* * *
“Well worth the purchase! Fantastic stories by C.G. Harris, stellar narration by MacLeod Andrews.”
* * *
“If you are a fan of the Dresden Files type of hero who is equal parts sassy, lovable, and punchable, then you will love Gabe. I was utterly enthralled by this envisioning of hell and the creatures who reside there. I had never imagined the underworld in this way, but it makes perfect sense. The side characters show growth and charm throughout the story, and left me wanting more. The audiobook narrator did a fantastic job with the voices and emotion throughout the story. I highly recommend this!”
About the Author
C.G. Harris is an award winning science-fiction and fantasy author from Colorado who draws inspiration from favorites, Jim Butcher, Richard Kadrey and Brandon Sanderson. For nearly a decade, Harris has escaped the humdrum of the real world by creating fictional characters and made-up realities. When not writing, Harris enjoys sipping scotch while watching the twisted humor of Drunk History. Seeing our past through the bottom of a whisky glass is more entertaining than reading a dusty textbook