Erin’s face was pinched with disapproval, but she nodded.
“Right, then,” Stone said. “Mr. Trent, let’s go save the world.”
Israel looked at Stone and then at Erin. With a smile he said, “I really didn’t think people actually said shit like that.”
“Oh, for- Just come on, you cheeky bastard,” Stone said as he started down the slope.
The building was a hundred yards or so from the base of the hill and they crossed it in silence, staying as low they could. They took cover behind a dark SUV and tried to take in the scene. “Dammit,” Stone said, “this light is still screwing with my vision. Tell me what you can see.”
Israel looked around and said, “There’s a short set of stairs leading up to a door over to the right, two loading bays, windows all the way up, nobody that I can see. I’m not sure what else to tell you.”
“That’s about what I saw,” Stone said. “Colors are all screwy. It’s blending everything together. Very strange, like an acid trip.”
Israel blinked. “What?”
Stone looked up at Israel and smirked. “Don’t look at me like that, youngster. I lived through the sixties and seventies on this world. I enjoyed it as much as anyone in that generation.”
Israel took a beat to process the words, then he said, “So, you’re really from… someplace else? John wasn’t just talking out his ass?”
“Yes, I am, and no, he wasn’t. Get over it, though- we’ve got work before us. If we survive it, I’ll tell you the story myself.”
Israel nodded. “That’s a deal.”
Stone pulled the handgun from its thigh holster and handed it to Israel. “That is a forty-five caliber Baby Desert Eagle. It has ten rounds in the clip and one in the pipe. It will put a respectable hole in just about anything you shoot with it. It’s got a kick, but you’re strong enough that it shouldn’t matter.”
“I really hope you don’t actually expect me to hit anything with this. I told you I’m not a shooter.”
“I know. Trust me, though, just pointing that thing will slow any sane person down. Also, it makes for a good distraction even if you miss. Just take it. Better to have it and not need it than the other way around. If you do have to shoot something, just get as close as you can and aim for center mass.”
“You’re the boss,” Israel said as he shoved the pistol into his belt at the small of his back. He adjusted his belt until it fit snugly and seemed secure enough. “What’s the plan?”
“I’m going to head for the top floor windows. I’ll have a better field of fire from up there. As soon as I’m in, you follow through one of the loading bays. Most of these old buildings were open to the ground from the upper floors, so I’ll get to a position where I can see you. If I see something dangerous that you don’t, I’ll signal you. That will give us away, but better that than walking into a squid nest.” Stone checked the clip on his submachine gun once more and then said, “Ready?”
“About that,” Israel said “No offense, but you don’t strike me as much of a climber being height-challenged and all.”
Stone grinned. “Don’t worry about me, mate. There’s a reason they named me ‘Stone.’ Remember, as soon as I’m in, you move.”
Israel nodded.
Stone gave him a reassuring wink and moved in a low crouch for the side of the building, eyes down the sub-gun’s sights and sweeping before him in a searching arc. When he reached the building, he dropped the weapon onto its sling and knelt down on one knee. Israel watched in confusion as Stone placed one hand flat against the ground and closed his eyes in concentration. Soft, incomprehensible words drifted over to Israel and he felt the slightest shudder in the ground beneath him.
Suddenly, Stone stood up as a column of dirt, rocks, and debris two feet in diameter started forming at his feet. It drew in from around him, creating a dimple in the earth that collected at his feet and grew, lifting him up until he was level with the upper windows. He lightly stepped from his platform of desert earth and through a window that was little more than a rusted-out frame. As soon as he was in, the column of earth fell in on itself and back into the small crater it had left behind.
Israel stared dumbfounded at the mound of dirt that marked Stone’s passing. He glanced back toward Erin, wondering if she’d seen it, and then back to the mound.
“All right,” he said to no one, “that was pretty damn cool,” and headed for the loading bays.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
Israel slipped into the building being as quiet and invisible as he could manage. The purple-brown light suffused everything and cast sickly shadows between the clutter of old barrels, machinery, and collapsed steel catwalks. Israel found a place that was out of sight and spent a few minutes studying the main chamber. It was a mess, but he couldn’t see any obvious threats. Debris filled the space, but he could make out a path through it that led to the far side of the room. He could try to go over the debris as an alternative, but it didn’t look stable and would likely make him easier to see if there were any squidheads lurking around.
Trusting that Stone would give him a heads up should there be any lurking danger, he moved through the clutter toward the far wall. The path was fairly well laid out, weaving around the largest pieces of machinery and opening up near the center of the room. He was halfway through the open space when he heard a loud click and the sudden metallic screech of multiple, large springs releasing their waiting tension.
Israel saw the spears coming. Six of them- long, narrow, and rusty with tips that had been freshly ground to shiny needle-points. They shot at him from six different angles, trailing thin steel cables in their wake.
Israel moved fast, dodging away from the spears as best he could, contorting his body like a snake, but there were just too many coming too fast. One spear pierced his left hand and went on to penetrate a thinner piece of metal behind it, holding fast with a cable running through Israel’s palm. A second one went through his thigh and clattered against the floor, not sticking into anything but trailing a line of steel through his leg. The other spears didn’t go through him, but ripped his clothing and left long cuts on his face and chest. Some of those stuck, too, and left tight steel cables pressing against his skin and impeding his movement.
There was no pain, but a stab of panic rushed through him. He started tugging at the spear that had pierced his hand when he heard a familiar voice say, “Uh,uh,uh, freak. Hands off the spear. We like you just like that.”
Israel looked back to his right as Carmine Screed came strolling out from behind one of the larger pieces of machinery. He held a taser casually in one hand. The other carried a heavy length of rusty pipe. He looked at Israel like a man deciding what to order from a menu.
“Well,” Israel said, “look at you, all up and about. How’d you manage that?”
“Unlike you, I didn’t have to turn into a zombie freak to heal fast.”
Israel judged the distance between them. Between the cables piercing his flesh and the ones blocking his path there was no way he could reach Carmine before getting shot. “Well,” he said, hoping to keep him talking long enough for Stone to intervene, “at least you didn’t call me the N-word.”
“Some shit goes without saying,” Carmine said, a sneer crossing his face.
“See, now you’re just being a hater.”
Carmine shrugged. “It’s what I do. Now, I have to make a decision. See, The Seer and my brother, they want me to use this,” he held up the taser, “so that The Seer can make you a part of the party he’s got going on downstairs. But me, I’m more inclined to take this pipe and reduce your head into a nice gooey pile of brain pudding. Decisions, decisions- what am I to do?” Carmine bounced both objects in his hands as though he were comparing their weight.
Israel’s mind raced over his options and found it to be a short track. Where the hell was Stone? He thought back over what he’d learned about Carmine from the fight in Atlanta and the phone they had taken from him. The thought of the phone made hi
m glance at the taser. He let a grin cross his face. “It figures,” he said with a chuckle.
“What’s that?” Carmine said.
“All this,” Israel said, nodding at the cables. “I get it. After the ass kicking I gave you in Atlanta you figured you had to trap me like this to get the upper hand. I understand, man. You gotta do what you gotta do, especially with your brother and your boss looking over your shoulder all the time.”
Israel kept the smile on his face as he watched Carmine’s face darken and his jaw tighten. “The only thing that saved you in Atlanta was that slut girlfriend of yours showing up and doing whatever the hell it was she did.”
“Bitch, please,” Israel said. “I was all ready to knock your punk ass off me when she showed up. It was kind of fun watching you bounce off that truck, though.”
Carmine’s breath was coming in short, angry bursts. “What the hell did she do to me?”
“That is not my secret to tell. Oh, and, just for the record, we aren’t a couple.”
Carmine raised the taser and pointed it at Israel’s chest.
“There you go,” Israel said, “gotta do what the boss says. I guess he already figured you can’t take me without it. It’s cool, man. Somebody’s got to ride in the bitch seat, right?”
Carmine took a step toward Israel. His hand gripped the taser so tight that it trembled just a little. “I know what you’re trying to do, freak,” Carmine said. “You’re trying to piss me off so I’ll do you quick instead of giving you to The Seer.”
“Oh, you mean like you did in Atlanta? Because, seriously, I was just getting warmed up back there. Breaking your nose was just the appetizer.”
“Fuck you,” Carmine said and pulled the taser’s trigger.
Nothing happened.
Israel laughed. “I see why you need Jordan and The Seer now because, man, you are a special kind of stupid. Electronics aren’t working right now.”
Carmine flung the useless weapon away and raised the pipe, rushing toward Israel.
There was no time to be smart or subtle. Israel yanked down hard with his left hand. The cable cut through his flesh and left a gapping slash that ran from the center of his palm and up between his two middle fingers. Those two fingers twitched and spasmed as he turned to meet Carmine’s charge.
The cables that were strung around him got in the way, but Israel managed to block Carmine’s attack by slamming his left forearm into Carmine’s descending wrist. Carmine’s left hand flashed around for a punch, but Israel caught his fist with his right hand and held it fast. They stood that way for a moment, each straining against the other’s strength, Israel struggling to keep his footing amid a tangle of cables and four-foot metal spears.
Carmine cursed and did a quick weight shift to his rear foot. He raised his leading leg in a fast kick that caught Israel flat in the center of his sternum and sent him flying backward.
Cables snapped away from the spears they were welded to and bones cracked under the blow. Israel hit a huge piece of old machinery that consisted mostly of a large gear of some sort. He felt more bones crack as he rebounded off it but there was no pain and he still seemed to be able to move. This was good because Carmine was barreling his way with the pipe in a two-handed grip.
Israel ducked low and rolled under the blow, which came down in a whistling arc and sent up a cloud of rust when it hit the giant gear and rang like a broken bell. Israel came up behind and to Carmine’s left. He snaked his right arm around Carmine’s neck and hooked his left arm around the other man’s left. Carmine planted his feet and tried to swing the pipe behind him, but the angle was just too awkward. The pipe clattered to the floor as Carmine abandoned it and sent his elbow backwards in a quick, vicious jab.
Israel managed to avoid most of the elbow strike and keep his forearm gripped on Carmine’s neck. When all was said and done, though, Israel was a man who’d spent his life training to be a journalist and an investigator. Carmine was a fighter, a killer born and bred.
Carmine turned his chin into Israel’s elbow and in the blink of an eye had slipped out of Israel’s choke hold and hooked his right arm under Israel’s shoulder. He shifted his hips in front of Israel and bent over in a fast, smooth motion.
Israel flipped through the air and landed hard on his back at Carmine’s feet. Any other man would’ve had the wind knocked out of him, providing a moment’s disorientation that Carmine could use to completely pin him. Israel didn’t stun that easily, though, so when Carmine tried to hold him down, he only managed to pin Israel’s right arm and hold down the other with his free hand rather than his knee. Israel clamped onto Carmine’s right wrist with his injured left hand. They struggled like that, each trying to get an advantage on the other.
“This is normally the part,” Carmine said, his voice strained with exertion, “where I would choke you to death. Guess I’ll just have to snap your neck, though.”
Israel kept silent, his left arm trembling with exertion. He saw the wound on his hand. It was already starting to mend, but was still a long gash between the fingers. Thick, nearly black blood oozed from it and coated his hand. The blood triggered a thought and Israel looked at the killer looming over him.
“You should have done more homework,” Israel said.
“Why?” Carmine said through gritted teeth.
“Because I’m a Necrophage, shit head. That means I’m contagious.”
Israel released his grip on Carmine’s wrist and flashed his hand to the other man’s face. He caught the side of his head and jammed his thumb deep into Carmine’s right eye. He squeezed until he felt something pop.
Carmine screamed and threw himself off of Israel, both hands clutching at his face, his body contorting in pain. He screamed and writhed like a man on fire, rubbing at the ruined eye socket, everything but his agony forgotten.
Israel watched the spectacle for a moment while he pulled the broken steel cable out of his thigh. Deep inside him somewhere there was an aspect of his personality that shouted to help the man, that said standing by while others suffered was not who he was no matter who the other person happened to be. Indifference won out, though, and he bent to retrieve the pipe from where Carmine had dropped it, intent on ending this man for good.
“Trent!”
The shout came from above him and he looked up. Jordan was standing on a rusted catwalk with Stone. The smaller of the Screed brothers had one pistol to Stone’s head and another in the hand he was using to wave at Israel. That hand disappeared behind Stone when Jordan spoke again.
“What did you do to my brother, Israel?”
“Nothing he wouldn’t have done to me.”
Jordan shrugged. “Okay. Fair enough. So, it looks like we have ourselves a situation here.”
“I guess so,” Israel said.
“Look,” Jordan said, “can I be straight with you? Because I want to be straight with you. Here’s the thing: When I signed on for this, I figured the whole ‘old gods from the Inner Dark’ thing was just your standard religious bullshit, you know? Yeah, The Seer Awakened us and all that but still- it was all pretty nuts, right? What’s happening here, though, is some next level crazy and I don’t think I’m down with it.”
“You regret hooking up with a doomsday cult. Imagine that.”
“I know, right? Anyway, here’s the deal: I’m ready to cut losses and get outta Dodge. So you let Carmine and me walk out of here and I’ll tell you what you need to know to shut all this down.”
“Why not just show me? Hell, help me.”
“Don’t trust this wanker, Israel,” Stone said.
“Hey! What did I tell you about talking?” Jordan said, grinding the pistol at Stone’s head into the Sentry agent’s temple.
“Easy, Jordan,” Israel said. “Just let my friend go and help us shut this down.”
Jordan laughed. “That’s not happening. I don’t trust you, you don’t trust me, and, frankly, the only thing I really care about is getting out of here with my brot
her. World goes to shit, that’s fine, but I kind of prefer it the way it is. I’m a sucker for modern luxuries. Plus- and this is a bonus -agree and I won’t blow a half a dozen holes in Agent Stumpy here.”
Carmine had stopped screaming, but was still kneeling on the floor clutching at his face. Israel looked at him and said, “Get out of here, Carmine.”
Carmine dropped his hands and looked at Israel. His right eye socket was a pulp of blood and gore. Clear, thick fluid ran in a tiny sheet down his face and through it all were the thin lines of black that Israel recognized from his injured hand. “Look what you did to me, you fuck!” he screamed. “I’m going to rip you apart!”
The screaming obviously hurt because Carmine groaned again and put his hands back over his eye. Israel watched him in silence.
“Not today, Carmine!” Jordan called down. “We need to roll, bro! This thing is going south fast.”
“It burns!” Carmine shouted.
“We’ll deal with it!” Jordan said. “Get moving, Carmine. You know where to go.”
Carmine climbed to his feet with pained, shaking movements. He looked at Israel with his hands covering the injured side of his face. His good eye stared a line of burning hate straight through the Necrophage. Without another word, Carmine turned and disappeared into the tangle of debris.
Israel faced Jordan. “Your turn.”
“The Seer is through that door,” Jordan said, nodding toward the back of the room. He went on to explain what he knew about the ritual and how it worked. “You take out The Seer and it stops, I think.”
“You think?”
“It’s the best I’ve got, Trent. I’m not a Mage. I just know that The Seer is the only guy down there. Stop him and it’s done.”
“Fine. If that’s it, let Stone go and get out of here,” Israel said.
“Yeah. Remember when I said I didn’t trust you? I need to make sure you aren’t going to follow us.”
The pistol at Stone’s back fired three times. Israel watched the man’s body jerk with each report and slump forward onto the rusted railing. Israel screamed in rage as the railing broke under Stone’s weight and he fell from the catwalk toward a tangle of discarded metal machinery.
Awakened Page 25