by Simon Hawke
He’d have to pull one of those interference things or whatever they were called. Snatch her out of there and take her away and sit on her until she got her head straight. But he knew he wouldn’t be able to do it on his own. He’d called in a few favors and got some help. It had cut into his stake a bit, but he wasn’t leaving town without Maria and there was no point in taking halfway measures. He’d gotten half a dozen local gangbangers, all strapped with iron. Brother Talon was about to find out that nobody screwed around with Joey Medina. Nobody.
They had boosted a van from a parking lot in the mall and headed out to Dragon Peak. It was late and the road was practically deserted. Didn’t matter much if anyone remembered the van, anyway. They’d ditch it right after the job.
The boys had wanted to hit the place hard and hit it fast, but Joey told them to cool it. No heavy stuff until they got Maria. He got them all baseball bats and told them to use those to take down anyone who might get in their way, keep things quiet until he found out where Maria was. After that, they could rock ‘n’ roll.
They took the road up to the enclave with the lights out, going slow to make sure they didn’t run into any dragons. The thaumaturgic battery allowed the van to glide a foot or so above the surface of the road without making any noise, so they’d be able to hit them without warning. Joey felt the butt of the 9mm tucked into his waistband and smiled. He was going to enjoy this.
As they rounded a curve, the van suddenly came to a halt, hovering silently. “Damn,” said Ricky, the driver.
“What’s wrong?” asked Rafe, one of the guys in back.
“Dragon on the road,” said Joey from the front passenger seat as he looked through the windshield. In the moonlight, they could make out the bulk of the huge beast in the center of the road. It wasn’t moving; it was just looking at them.
“Jesus, look at that son of a bitch,” said Julio, moving up between the seats to look out the windshield. “Maybe we should back off a bit,” he added nervously.
“Come on, let’s get going,” Rafe said impatiently.
“Can’t,” said Ricky. “That’ lizard’s blockin’ the damn road.”
“Well, run it the hell off, man!”
“Hey, I ain’t about to piss off anything that big,” said Ricky.
“Just drive, man,” Rafe said. “It’ll move.”
“Yeah? And what if it doesn’t?”
“What if it decides we’re dinner?” Julio asked.
“Well, shoot the damn thing,” said Rafe irritably. “I don’t feel like sittin’ here all night.”
“No shooting,” Joey said firmly. “Not until I give the word.”
“Well, is it movin’ or ain’t it?” Rafe asked from the back.
“No, it’s just standin’ there,” said Ricky.
“Well, shit, I ain’t got all fuckin’ night,” said Rafe. They heard the sliding door open.
“Hey, wait a minute, man…” said Mike, sitting with the others in the back.
“Rafe!” said Joey. “Where the hell are you goin’?”
A moment later, they saw Rafe coming around the front of the van, holding a baseball bat. His shaved head gleamed darkly in the moonlight.
“That son of a bitch is crazy,” Julio said.
Joey stuck his head out the side window. “Rafe! Are you nuts? Get back in here!”
Rafe did not reply. Holding the baseball bat before him, he slowly approached the dragon. It watched, flicking its long tongue out, as he came closer.
“Goddamn it, he’s gonna screw up everything!” said Joey, racking the slide on the 9mm and getting out of the van.
The dragon flicked its long tongue out toward Rafe, but the big, muscular black man danced aside and brought the bat down with both hands in a powerful blow against the dragon’s head. There was a loud crack, like a major leaguer connecting for a home run, and the bat splintered. Joey swore and brought the gun up, flicking off the safety, but the dragon gave a loud hiss and staggered, recoiling from the blow, then lumbered off unsteadily into the darkness.
Joey exhaled heavily, slipped the safety back on, and lowered the gun as Rafe discarded the broken bat and returned to the van. “You got some big fucking brass cojones, man,” he said, shaking his head.
“Whatever,” Rafe said. “C’mon, let’s get this show on the road.”
They got back into the van and continued up the road to the enclave without further incident. The gates were closed, but they weren’t locked. Joey got out and opened them, then stood aside as the van went through. They parked in the courtyard and got out, carrying their baseball bats, except for Rafe, who had broken his. He pulled out his old Mac-10 and slapped a clip in.
“Remember, keep it cool until I find Maria,” Joey said.
The place looked deserted, but it was late and everyone was probably in bed. The first thing they did phone lines; then they spread out and headed for the residence buildings. The first one they came to, everybody was asleep. That was what Joey had figured on. He’d planned on waking up a couple of them and scaring them shitless, making them tell him where Maria was, then tapping them out and getting her before turning the boys loose on the place to teach Brother Talon a lesson. The only trouble was, they couldn’t wake anyone up.
“C’mon, get up!” said Rafe, shaking one of the sleepers hard. It was a guy of about nineteen. Rafe lifted him right off the bed, shaking him like a rag doll, but there was no response. It was the same with the next two. Rafe shook them and slapped them, but they would not wake up no matter what he did.
“What the hell is wrong with these people?” Mike asked, perplexed. “They keep ‘em all drugged up or something?”
“I dunno,” said Joey with a frown. “I didn’t count on this.”
“Well, if they’re all like this, it’ll make things a hell of a lot easier,” said Esteban, one of the other toughs. “We’ll just find your chick and carry her back to the van, then trash the place and split.”
“I don’t like this,” Julio said. “It’s fuckin’ creepy, man.”
“They’ve got ‘em all doped up, that’s all,” said Rafe. “Probably put it in their food or somethin’.”
And then they heard the chanting.
“What the hell is that?” said Julio, glancing around with alarm. He was getting jumpy.
Esteban moved to the window. “Hey, check this out,” he said.
Joey came up beside him and the others crowded around. A line of figures in hooded black robes was moving across the courtyard from the buildings on the opposite side. They were headed toward the mission. As they walked, others similarly dressed moved up to join them, coming from the other buildings. Joey recognized Maria among them. Even in the robe, he knew it was her. He’d know that walk anywhere.
“What the hell is this?” asked Ricky. “Midnight mass?”
“Yeah, well, it’s after midnight,” Mike said, peering out the window. “This looks like some kinda cult shit to me.”
“It figures,” said Tony, Ricky’s older brother. “They dope everybody else up so no one’s awake to see them do their thing.”
“This could be interesting,” said Rafe.
“I told you, man, this is fuckin’ creepy,” Julio said. “I don’t like this.”
The robed figures were moving into the mission.
“Come on,” said Joey. “Let’s go.”
“What do you mean, let’s go?” asked Julio.
“We’re goin’ in there,” said Joey. “This makes it easy. We get ‘em all in the same place.”
“Oh, jeez, man, I don’t know,” said Julio uneasily.
“What the hell are you afraid of?” asked Mike. “You’ve got a piece.”
“Yeah, but that’s a church, man.”
“This don’t look like no church service I’ve ever seen,” Joey replied. “And I ain’t payin’ you for wussing out on me. You in on this or not?”
“Yeah, okay, okay, I’m in,” said Julio reluctantly.
They wai
ted until the last of the robed figures disappeared into the mission, then went outside and ran across the courtyard. But when they got into the mission, it was dark and empty.
“What the hell?” said Ricky, looking around. “Where’d they all go?”
“There’s a door open over there,” said Mike.
They went to the side door and entered the small walled courtyard between the mission and the house. Joey led the way. “They must’ve gone inside there,” he said. The others took their guns out.
They went through the door into the house. “What the fuck?” said Joey. There was a big hole in the center of the floor, with stairs leading down. They could see torchlight flickering in the passageway.
“Oh, that’s it, man,” Julio said, shaking his head. “I ain’t goin’ down there. Forget about it.”
“Fine, stay here, you pussy,” Joey said. “But you ain’t gettin’ a fuckin’ dime for this job.”
“Hey, c’mon, somebody’s got to watch the van, don’t they?” Julio protested.
“All right,” said Joey, reconsidering. “You get half what we agreed. But you better be waitin’ for us when we get back or I’ll find you and waste your sorry ass.”
“That’s if I don’t find you first,” said Rafe.
“Okay, I get the picture,” Julio said.
“Right, let’s go,” said Joey.
Julio watched them disappear down the stairs, then he was left alone. He hefted the big semiautomatic pistol in his hand and checked the safety. He looked around nervously. The house seemed deserted. He couldn’t hear the chanting anymore. He didn’t know which bothered him worse, the chanting or the silence.
He went over to the front window and looked out. From where he stood, he could easily see the van parked in the courtyard. No one was around. Still, he didn’t like it. It was one thing to snatch a chick out of some rehab center and then shoot up the place a little, but nobody had told him this was some kind of religious cult on a preserve for dragons. If he’d known that, he wouldn’t have gone for it. The money wasn’t that good.
Things were liable to get out of hand. Joey was really wired and that Rafe was just plain crazy. Sure as shit people were going to wind up getting killed. It was going to be messy. It was one thing to off somebody on the street every now and then, but to waste a bunch of people in a church, cult or no cult, the cops were going to be all over this one. Man, I shouldn’t’ve gone in on this, thought Julio as he watched out the window, glancing nervously around the deserted courtyard. Bunch of people lyin’ around, all doped up to the gills, guys in hooded black robes chanting weird shit, desecrating a church… this was a bad deal all around.
He tucked the pistol into the waistband of his jeans and lit up a cigarette. He didn’t like having to wait up here all alone, but he’d liked the idea of going down that hole even less. He didn’t want to know what the hell they did down there. Some kind of Satanic shit, you could bet on that. Probably wouldn’t be a bad idea if Joey and the others wasted the whole bunch. Maybe they would. Boy, wouldn’t that be something? Then he could talk about the time he’d been in on this job that took out a whole Satanic cult. But things were going to be pretty hot around town for a while after that. Maybe the thing to do was take the money, skip across the border for a while, and just chill. Of course, now he wasn’t going to get as much, because Joey was pissed he didn’t go down there with the others. Still, could’ve been worse. He might’ve been cut out altogether. But there was no way he was going down that hole. He turned around and froze, the cigarette dropping from his lips.
The hole in the floor was gone.
He blinked and shook his head. “Son of a bitch—”
Slowly, he walked over to where the hole had been in the center of the floor. Only now there was no hole. There was no sign of a door or anything. Tentatively, he felt the area where the hole had been with his foot. Julio swore softly in Spanish and got down on his hands and knees, feeling the ceramic tiles. Solid. No cracks or anything. He swore again.
Magic.
He swallowed hard and quickly crossed himself. This put a whole new slant on things. Joey never said anything about magic being involved. If they were going up against adepts… From somewhere under the floor, Julio suddenly heard the muffled, distant sounds of gunfire. Just a couple of shots and what sounded like a brief burst from Rafe’s Mac-10, then nothing. He put his ear down against the floor and listened. For a moment or two, he couldn’t hear a thing. And then, just barely audible, he heard it.
The chanting.
“Fuck this…” he said, scrambling to his feet and pulling out his gun. He flicked off the safety and ran to the door, looked around, then dashed across the small walled courtyard back into the church. No sign of anybody. He ran through the church and went outside, turning this way and that, swinging his gun around to cover all directions. He made it to the van, got in, slammed the door, and turned the key. Screw this, he thought, I’m getting the hell outta here.
The van lifted off the ground and he slammed it into drive. He didn’t even bother stopping to open the gates. He just crashed right through them. The van slewed sideways, but Julio got it straight and accelerated down the road, his high beams on, taking the curves as fast as he dared. The battery would only power the van up to about fifty miles per hour, but the curves were sharp and Julio had to watch his speed. He was halfway down the winding mountain road when he saw them up ahead, in the glare of his lights. Four dragons, standing in the center of the road, like cattle, blocking it. And several more moving up behind them.
“Shit!” Julio gritted his teeth and swerved off the road.
The van lurched as it plunged into the brush, unable to levitate more than about two feet above the ground. The thaumaturgic battery still had plenty of charge left in it, but it wasn’t powerful enough to lift the van any higher. He heard the thumping on the undercarriage as the van plowed over the scrub brush and cactus, snapping off the brittle paddles of the prickly pear and breaking through the fragile cholla, but the van rocked and pitched as it ran over the tougher creosote bushes and young mesquite trees and rocks. Julio struggled for control as he tried to avoid the larger, multiple-trunked palo verde trees and the big mesquites. The van went sideways and smashed against a tree, rebounding and going sideways the other way as Julio tried desperately to straighten it out. The ground was steep and he was losing all control as the vehicle plunged down the side of the mountain, crashing through ocotillo plants and getting thoroughly banged up. He struck a glancing blow to a large saguaro cactus and the plant toppled in one direction while the van rolled in the other, striking the ground hard and caving the roof in, rolling over and over until it finally came to a halt against a stand of gnarled mesquite trees.
Julio wasn’t wearing a seat belt and he got thrown around inside the van, striking the windshield with his head and getting bounced around as the vehicle rolled over and over. When it finally came to rest on its side, Julio was still conscious, but stunned and groggy. He tasted blood and felt it running down his face. He could feel no pain yet, but he knew he’d been hurt. The windshield was smashed and the van looked like a crumpled beer can.
He managed to drag himself out through the passenger side door, which was sprung and hanging open. The headlights were still on, sending the beams out at a crazy angle. Julio coughed and spat out blood. His chest hurt. He’d probably broken a few ribs.
Gotta get outta here, he thought. Get down to the highway, try to hitch a ride into town. There wasn’t going to be much traffic on the road this time of night. And Tucson was a good sixty miles away. How far was he from the highway? It was dark and, though the moon provided some light, he couldn’t see the road he had gone off of and couldn’t get his bearings.
Then he heard something moving toward him through the brush. Something big. Shit, he thought, the dragons. He tried to put weight on his leg and felt a sharp stab of pain go through it. He swore. It wasn’t broken, but it was cut up and he saw the dark dampness
on his torn jeans from the blood. It looked pretty bad. He was starting to feel the pain now. Which way was the goddamn road?
He figured he couldn’t go wrong if he headed downhill. The highway had to be down there somewhere. Hobbling painfully, he started down Ihe slope, picking his way through the scrub brush. He stumbled and felt a sharp pain in his arm as he brushed up against a cholla cactus. Its segmented branches broke off at the slightest touch and were covered with a profusion of sharp spines. Several of the four-inch-long, sausagelike branches had detached and stuck to him. Instinctively, he tried to brush them away and got one stuck in his hand. Cursing and wincing with pain, he shook it off, but now he could hear heavy, thumping footsteps behind him, twigs snapping, and loud hisses punctuated by the snapping of large jaws. He reached for his gun. It wasn’t there.
It must have fallen out back in the van. He couldn’t go back for it now. There was no time to look for a weapon. He had to get the hell out of there. Ignoring the pain, he half limped, half stumbled down the slope, watching for cactus as best he could, but sticking himself a dozen times before he had covered twenty yards. The damn stuff grew all over the place. And behind him, the footsteps kept on coming. It sounded as if there were at least two or three of them. And they were after him. How fast could they move?
The ground was gradually starting to level off. The highway couldn’t be much farther. Whimpering with pain, Julio redoubled his efforts, trying to put some distance between himself and the creatures behind him. He stumbled and fell, bruising himself and scratching his face on some yucca leaves, dragged himself to his feet, and kept on going. Where the hell was the damned road?
And then he stopped suddenly, and his stomach tightened up with fear. The fucking wall. He had forgotten about the wall. It stood about twenty feet in front of him, about twelve feet high and running as far as he could see in both directions. Behind him, he heard the snapping and rustling of brush as the dragons came closer. He could hear them hissing hungrily.