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The Supernatural Bounty Hunter Files: Special Edition Fantasy Bundle, Books 6 thru 10 (Smoke Special Edition Book 2)

Page 59

by Craig Halloran


  “I’m going in. I’ve got to help Cort.”

  CHAPTER 26

  Guppy gave Sam a quick kiss and ran. He noticed Mal and Russ emerging from their hiding place. Everyone was armed. With pure adrenaline racing through his veins, he pushed through the hole in the doorway and barreled down the hall, taking the first right toward the generator room. He slammed his shoulder into the double doors. The heavy metal doors bowed against his strength, but held. He jogged backward, pulled his semiautomatic pistol from the polymer holster, and fired.

  The doors exploded inward. Guppy holstered the weapon and made his march inside. It had been a long time since the veteran had seen any action in the field. The smell of gunpowder livened his senses. All of his instincts from multiple tours in Iraq and Afghanistan came back. This was another mission. A rescue mission. He’d done it dozens of times before. But never with a flamethrower.

  As soon as he cleared the hazy smoke inside the yawning size of the generator room, deaders rushed him. He pulled the trigger. A stream of flame ignited the deaders’ old uniforms like kindling. Skin bubbled and crackled. They marched with their bodies burning and bayonets lowered to impale him. Guppy side-jumped out of their path, watching the old bodies begin to crumble from the corner of his eyes. There were deaders in red coats ambling all over the room. He’d only caught some of their attention. There wasn’t any sign of Cort.

  Seeing the whites of their eyes, Guppy hosed them all down with flame.

  Something jabbed into his back, knocking him to his knees. He caught the flash of a sword bearing down on his skull. His hand shot up, catching the deader by the wrist. He stuck the flamethrower in its gut. “Burn!”

  Flames erupted out of the deader’s eyes and mouth. It fell over with its head leaving a stream of smoke behind it.

  “Guppy!” cried a deep but feeble voice.

  Cort was up on top of one of the generators. Deaders scrambled at the base, crawling over one another to the top. The big black man was hitting them in the face with bloody knuckles whenever a deader’s face popped up. He was on his belly, with his boots hanging over one end. Deaders had ahold of those boots, fighting against the kicking feet that dangled over the rim.

  Guppy turned the deaders on the backside into fire. The entire room smelled like burning flesh and hair. The smoke was so thick Guppy choked. His eyes watered so badly it was hard to see. “Hang on, Cort, I’m coming.”

  “Hurry up!”

  Guppy rushed around to the other side. The flames sputtered from the tip. “Tank’s about empty!” He slid the flamethrower tank off of his brawny shoulders and yelled at the redcoat deaders, “Hey!”

  The remaining trio of deaders turned on Guppy.

  Guppy tossed the flamethrower tank to one in front. It caught it full in the chest. “I don’t know what your name is, soldier, but Bonfire has a nice ring to it. Cover up, Cort! The thunder’s coming!” With the quick hand of a gunslinger, Guppy drew and fired. The tank exploded. Deader bodies splattered from the floor to the ceiling. A deader head bounced off the floor and rolled. Guppy kicked it away. “Cort?”

  There was a pause, followed by, “Please tell me they’re all dead.”

  Guppy scanned the room. “They were all dead before we started, but now they don’t move.” Guppy’s legs turned into noodles. He broke out in a cold sweat and fell on his backside. “Whoa.”

  Cort’s head popped up over the side of the generator. “I know what that means. You’re out of gas. Those pills have a nasty side effect, but at least it saved my ass.”

  “Ditto. Do you need any help off of there?”

  “My arm’s still broken, but I think I can manage.” Cort’s face soured. “Whew! The dead stink. If we ever get out of here, the first round is on me.”

  “I don’t drink.”

  “Then I’ll drink for you.” Cort managed to slide his body over the edge. He swung his big frame over with one arm. He landed heavily on his feet and fell to the floor. He started laughing. “I feel like I just ran a dozen gassers.”

  “Me too.”

  Both men were staring up at the ceiling. Guppy’s ribs felt worse than they had before.

  “Say,” Cort said, tapping Guppy with the back of his hand. “You got any more ammo?”

  “Yup.” Guppy fished a cartridge out of his belt. “Here.”

  “Are these forty-four magnums?”

  “Nope.” Guppy handed over a second gun he had in his belt. “This will have to do you.”

  Cort took the gun. He popped out the empty cartridge and loaded the new clip. He reached down into one of his belt pouches. He fished out the small vial of pills. “Do you think it’s too dangerous to take these too close together without having a meal? I wonder if it’s addictive.”

  “Who knows?” Guppy sat up with a grunt. “I doubt they have FDA approval. I’m sure Mal wouldn’t have given us so many if it wasn’t safe.”

  Cort made it up to his elbows. “Man, I just wish they lasted longer. That’s quite a rush. Where to now?” He reached out his hand. Together the men helped each other up.

  “Sid’s in trouble.”

  “I know where she is.”

  “Lead the way.”

  Stiff limbed, the hardened veterans ambled along, completely unaware that someone was watching them.

  CHAPTER 27

  “That was a nice move with the sword,” Mason the minotaur said, “but it takes a lot more than that to kill the likes of me.”

  “Playing possum, huh?” Smoke backed down the hall with the sword still in his hand. It appeared that Mason wouldn’t be a pushover. Smoke had dropped the monster into a deep chasm, yet he had still come back. In the back of his mind he wondered if anyone they killed was ever dead. One and all, it seemed, had come back. “So, if I can’t kill you with this sword, perhaps you wouldn’t mind letting me take a free shot.”

  Mason’s hooves clawed at the floor. His wide nostrils snorted. The burly beast man with horns as wide as his shoulders said, “Go ahead. I’ll give you the first shot.”

  “With the sword?”

  “You can use your sword or your gun.” Mason stood straight. His head almost touched the ceiling. “But when I don’t die, then I get a free shot at you.”

  Smoke eyed the bull man up and down. The hairy, husky man appeared as solid as any statue. Smoke knew an explosive bullet wouldn’t do it. A blue round would pass through one side and out the other, but if he couldn’t stop the beast with a sword, there was little chance that a bullet could. Why not. He dug the tip of his Arabian sword into the floor and leaned it against his waist, spat into his hands, and rubbed them together. He took the sword up in both of his hands.

  “This is your bet. Stand still.”

  Mason crossed his arms over his chest. “I will, rodent.”

  Smoke walked right up to the minotaur and raised the sword over his head.

  Mason didn’t budge a fraction of an inch.

  He brought the sword’s razor-sharp blade down with wroth force. The steel split the skull dead center. It cleaved through the thick skull brain-deep before stopping between the eyes. He released the handle and stepped away, fully expecting Mason to drop.

  “Boo,” the bull man said. Like an anvil on a block, he didn’t budge an inch. If a bull could smile, he made one. Mason grabbed the sword by the handle and wriggled it free, making a sickening squishing sound of bone and brain rubbing on metal as he did so. He offered the blade to Smoke. “Now it’s my turn.”

  Smoke took the sword and sheathed it behind his back. He’d just taken the biggest gamble of his life. I should have chopped off his head. That might have done it. What was I thinking?

  “Don’t second-guess yourself, John Smoke. Nothing you tried would have worked. Some of us can’t be killed. We’ll always come back.” Mason’s right hoof started to dig. “Now brace yourself — unless you want to chicken out.”

  Smoke moved back twenty paces. “No, I’m a man of my word. A bet’s a bet. I took my sho
t, now you take yours.”

  “A shame. You would have made an excellent brother. But now, you have to die.”

  It was a gamble. Smoke figured if they couldn’t die so easily, then neither could he. If I survive this, I swear, I’ll never do it again. Stupid. Smoke prided himself on being able to escape anything. He could run, but to a point of fault, he kept his word. I live by my Word, and I’ll die by my Word. “Okay, fatty, give it your best shot.”

  “With glee.” Mason charged. His steps shook the hall.

  But when the minotaur was ten steps from Smoke, the flooring gave out.

  Mason’s momentum shifted. He fought his way at Smoke with a dying head of steam. He plowed his rock-hard forehead into Smoke’s chest. The impact sent Smoke sprawling backward into the wall. He left a full-body impression in the drywall. The dark spots in his eyes didn’t clear. His chest felt like it had taken a direct shot from a cannonball. Stuffed inside the wall, he nevertheless kept his feet.

  “NO!” Mason punched the floor. “I get another run at it!”

  But Smoke had a problem. Even though he hadn’t gotten Mason’s best shot, the jarring impact had still paralyzed his limbs. I feel like I just got hit by a tank. Ugh! As Mason climbed to his feet, Smoke began wriggling his fingers. He pulled his shoulder out of the wall.

  Mason was on the move again, gaining a full head of steam. Luck wasn’t going to stop the juggernaut this time.

  At the last possible moment, Smoke broke away from the wall.

  Mason dipped his head in an attempt to gore Smoke, but the minotaur’s momentum carried him onward. Tripping over Smoke, he busted through the brick wall.

  Smoke groaned. A hoof had caught him full in the ribs. He crawled away, got onto his feet, and began running.

  Behind him came an angry roar. Hooves stomped the floor. The enraged minotaur gave chase at a fast and steady speed. “I will crush you, Smoke! There’s no escape from me!”

  I should have cut off one of his legs! That would have done it, John. But no, you had to go for the kill, didn’t you?

  Holding his side, Smoke ran as fast as he could. Mason continued to gain. There weren’t many places to run. The offices ran along the halls, all of which crisscrossed the building. Smoke lowered his shoulder into one of the fire escape doors that led outside. It didn’t budge.

  Laughing started up over the loudspeaker. “Run, Smoke, run! Watch him go, viewers, as the minotaur closes in. How much more does this cursed do-gooder have left in him?”

  Smoke wheeled around into the next hall. A knot of redcoat deaders were crammed in there, four men deep. Mason rounded the corner. There was nowhere to run. Great Dane.

  “Surprise, John,” Kane said. “It looks like your heroics are up in smoke.”

  CHAPTER 28

  One screen showed the generator room full of burning deader bodies. Another showed that Sam, Russ, and Mal had found safety near a storage shed. The view that had Sid’s heart racing was of Smoke. He was in the thick of things, battling the Minotaur.

  “Mason Crowe lives,” she said, wheezing. Her breathing was a forced effort by design. The constriction in her lungs had begun to ease, but she wasn’t letting on. “That’s impossible.”

  “The word ‘impossible’ is not in our vocabulary, Sidney.” Frank laid his hand on her head. He stroked her hair. “Such a sweet child, who only knows what she sees and has been told. That’s why the likes of the Drake are so successful. No one wants to tell you what’s really happening. You only see what the powers that be want you to see.”

  “Please stop touching me.”

  “Oh, get used to it, little pet. Be smart and let your owner care for you. Enjoy the simple life that we are trying to provide for all.”

  “I had the simple life with Kane. It didn’t work on me then, and it certainly won’t work on me now.” She pulled her head away. “Keep your damn hands off me.”

  Frank slapped her. It felt like she’d been hit by a sandbag. The heavy-handed strike tipped her and the chair over.

  Lording over her, Frank said, “I’m not a violent person, but I don’t take kindly to abrasive tones used against me. It shouldn’t, but it does, anger me a little. It seems there is still a spark left in this centuries-old frame of mine.”

  “It’s not a spark. It’s just evil.” Sid lost her view of the screens. “Are you going to just leave me here? Pick me up.”

  Frank’s long neck eased back and forward again. Reaching down, he pulled her up by her head of hair. Fibers of hair ripped out of her skull as he did so. “Behave yourself, or no more television for you.”

  “So far, all my friends live, Frank. They’re beating the odds. I don’t think that’s an accident.” She had a view of Cort and Guppy coming down the hallway that led to her location. “I think visitors are coming. Would you like me to prepare something?”

  “No, that won’t be necessary. I think I can manage. Sherry, would you please fetch our other guest out of the server room?” The undead woman disappeared through a concealed panel door beside the monitors. Frank picked up the communication link and the earpiece that went with it. He fit it inside Sid’s ear. “Tell them you’re heading back to the parking lot.”

  “Why would I do that?”

  “Because if you don’t, then someone very dear to you is going to die.”

  “You’ve played that card plenty of times already. And no one has died so far.” Sherry returned, but she wasn’t alone. “Megan!”

  Held fast in Sherry’s grip, the little girl was unresponsive. Her wavy blond locks were in tangles. Her complexion was ashen. The clothing she wore — jeans and a pink unicorn t-shirt —looked like it hadn’t been changed in months. Megan held a brown teddy bear in her arms, but her eyes were on the floor.

  “Megan, it’s me, Aunt Sidney. Come to me, Megan, please.”

  Megan’s head turned slightly, but she didn’t look.

  “What did you do to her, Frank?” Sid yelled.

  “Things have been so hectic of late that she’s been given a mild sedative. Besides, she’s a prime candidate to become a shifter like her mother.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Oh, your most lovely sister Allison has become something quite beautiful. Her daughter will thrive just as well, or, like yourself, die. But as you can see, I don’t think the young one has it in her to resist.” Frank held the comm link in Sid’s face. “Now tell your comrades you are heading back to the parking lot. You’ll meet them there.”

  “Or what?”

  “Or Megan will die.”

  “I thought you said she was a candidate?”

  “Yes, and she’ll have to die first. Now, Sid, I suggest that you do as I say. I don’t bluff.” He touched the link to her lips. His voice became gritty. “Tell them.”

  There was a little crackle in her ear. “Guppy, can you hear me?” She watched Guppy stop in the hallway and grab Cort’s arm with his hand. “Guppy?”

  “Sid,” Guppy replied. “Where are you?”

  “I’m out. The control room was a dead end. I’m heading back to the parking lot. We need to regroup.”

  “What about Smoke?”

  “I don’t know, Guppy. Let’s regroup. We have to gather all the resources we can muster. He’s in here somewhere, but I’ve got to get out. I can barely breathe.”

  “Yeah, yeah, Sid. The parking lot. Stat.”

  Sid watched Guppy talking to Cort in the hallway. Cort was pointing down the corridor where Command Central waited. They bickered back and forth a bit, but Guppy appeared to prevail in the argument. They headed back in the direction from where they had come. The monitors tracked their every step.

  “Well done, Sidney. Well done.” Frank took the Bluetooth plug from her ear and set it aside with the communication link. “Cooperation is an important part of building strong relationships. When the deed is done, perhaps you will become one of my most masterful creations, much like your sister and niece. Along with Smoke, you can be one b
ig happy family.”

  Sid kept her eyes fastened on Megan. She’d never seen her niece look so pitiful before. She was dark and jaded now. The vibrant marrow of her had been sucked out, leaving her hollow. Panting, she said, “How could you do this? She’s just a little girl.”

  “I consider it mercy. Just think, she won’t have to face all those nasty trials and tribulations that plague your corrupt world. She’ll be free of that struggle and bondage.” Standing behind Sid’s chair, Frank rested his spade-sized hands on her shoulders. He started to rub. “Soon, you will be free of it as well. Sherry, kill the girl.”

  “What!” Sid said. Sherry produced Sid’s knife and pressed it against Megan’s throat. “No, Frank, no! Stop this! I’ll do anything!”

  “Sorry, it’s too late for that. Sherry, do it.”

  CHAPTER 29

  Redcoats. They looked like costumed freaks at a bad Halloween party. With bayonets and sabers at the ready, the sunken-eyed men stayed their advance. Sealing Smoke off at the other end was Mason, with murder in his eye.

  Smoke’s thoughts were clouded. He didn’t have a plan other than self-preservation. He was like a cornered animal. Fight or run. But there was nowhere to run. Fight or die, more like.

  Don’t lose it, Smoke.

  “End of the road, jerkoff.” Mason pounded his fist into his meaty hand with a loud smack. “I’m going to turn you into a pile of mush. I can’t wait.”

  Smoke fought to find words. He had none. His mind was swirling. Clutching his head, he staggered on wobbling knees.

  Focus, Smoke! Focus!

  He needed to rip something apart. He ran straight at the deaders. Their bayonets advanced. Smoke leapt high, clearing the jabbing soldiers and gliding over them with his back brushing the ceiling. A strong hand caught him by the ankle. Down he went into a sea of rotting people. His raw savagery was unhinged. Sharp weapons jabbed and poked. His bearish strength broke bones and shattered faces. Joints were pulled from their sockets. Sunken eyeballs were wasted. Smoke hit them with everything he had.

 

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