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The Adventures of Andrew Doran: Box Set

Page 13

by Matthew Davenport


  I could hear the crash from however far ahead of the enemy we were. They must have hit two of the bins, at least, but Olivia kept firing. I took my eyes from the road long enough to see that they had been slowed by the maneuver I had used, but only barely.

  The edge of town wasn't far. I could now see the buildings thinning out. Through the buildings, the edge of town was well marked by two more jeeps with many soldiers lined up in front of them.

  "Leo!" I shouted. "Gun!" I spared a glance at Olivia's back as she hung half out of her passenger side window. "Olivia, ahead of us!"

  Leo passed me his machine gun while Olivia returned to her seat. Looking forward she shouted, "Zut alors, Doran!" Damn it, Doran, in French.

  Rolling down my window, I took the machine gun in a one-handed grip and thrust it outside. Without taking the time to aim, I depressed the trigger. The roar filled the cab of the car more than Olivia's little pistol did. It was so loud that I didn't even hear Olivia's shooting, although I could see that she was miming me with her own gun.

  The Nazis ahead of us scattered, diving behind their jeeps and off of the road. I didn't slow the car at all and rammed the two jeeps that were blocking the road. Olivia and I managed to bring our guns in only barely in time and avoided losing our arms. In the backseat Leo was releasing a long string of curses.

  Only a few of the soldiers had the wherewithal to remember that they were supposed to be stopping us and continued to shoot as they dove out of the way. The shots were mostly wide with only a few hitting the doors and the trunk. A loud sound of metal sliding across metal hit my ears next and holler of victory from Leo confirmed that we'd also lost our tail.

  Keeping my eyes on the road ahead of and behind us, I continued to watch for Nazis. Why they hadn't chased us out of Lyon was a guess that I didn't dare hazard and Olivia and Leo voiced no assumptions either.

  We had been driving for what seemed like hours, but a quick glance at my watch told me it had only been thirty minutes, when Leo asked the inevitable question.

  "Where are we going?"

  I liked this. I liked that they had no idea where we were going. That had been a clever preparation on my part. When Leo left to get us a ride, I had thought back on meeting up with Olivia. I had told her my journey would take me into France, and I had told her that I was headed to Germany. The next thing that I knew she had us meeting with her contact in Lyon. Someone who was ready for us and had knowledge of my arrival before we had even entered Lyon. I wasn't alright with this. They were my allies, as far as I could tell, but I had no idea how long that would last. More importantly, Olivia's preparation for our arrival had put me in the uncomfortable position of being outnumbered. I was driving a car of the French Resistance with two of its members sitting beside me.

  In not telling them my next step until this moment, I was certain that they wouldn't have been able to have

  anybody in waiting to help, join, or otherwise sidetrack my mission.

  I didn't want to keep them in the dark entirely. They had been helpful so far, and I could be completely wrong in my assumption of their intentions, but I couldn't afford to take that chance. Not yet.

  "We're going to Geneva." Olivia gave me a look of doubt. "Switzerland?"

  I nodded. "My reasons are two-fold," I explained. "First, Geneva is the most direct path between myself and where I believe the book is being held. Being in neutral territory will give us a chance to relax as well. We'll be able to breathe and get our bearings before continuing on."

  Leo leaned forward, resting his arms on mine and Olivia's seats. "Book? This is all for a book? The German's burn books you fool!"

  Leo was angry and this was the first time he'd heard of any of the details of my mission.

  I decided that the Germans were already spreading the rumors of my movements and that it would do me no damage to explain a little further to Leo.

  "Have you ever heard of the Necronomicon?" I asked him.

  The Frenchman shook his head.

  I continued. "It is a book of unimaginable power. The Germans think that with it they can rule the world." This was the very simplified explanation. "It was stolen from an American University. It is my job to get the book and return it." I waited for the other shoe to drop. I had just told Leo that the Germans have an American book that could turn the tide of the war. I had also told him that I want to put it back into a library.

  "How can a book change the war?" I could see the wheels turning in Leo's mind. He was already thinking of how he could use this book himself. Of how the Resistance could stop the Nazis cold.

  On the surface of it, I couldn't argue with his thinking. A weapon that could put the Nazi menace back into its bottle would be invaluable, but Leo didn't understand exactly what kind of powers existed in that book. The dreaded Necronomicon, even in the "right" hands, was a force of the darkest evils. If used by heroes or villains it would only summon Hell on Earth. To do that only benefited the demons of the world. The only safe use of the book was to not use it at all.

  Much to my surprise, Olivia jumped to my rescue. "Book, brick, or mud: The Nazis think it is a weapon. Taking it back from them would show them that they don't have the world in the palm of their hand."

  I nodded and decided against elaborating. Olivia knew exactly what kind of power this book had and instead of encouraging Leo's train of thought, she'd downplayed the importance of the book. She'd done what my sheer honesty would have failed to do: she had fanned his skepticism and now I could see the hope in his eyes fading.

  I was no fool. That hope would stay and hum incessantly in the back of his mind. He'd keep telling himself that it was only a book, but the moment that we were close enough to finally grab the Necronomicon Leo would sense its real power. That would be an interesting day indeed.

  Leo broke into my train of thought. "And the other reason for our trip to Geneva?"

  I sighed. "I'm not exactly sure that I know where the book is."

  I could tell by Olivia's eyes that she was not going to be coming to my aid this time.

  "I know that the Germans will need to take the book to a group called the Traum Kult and I am also certain that the Traum Kult headquarters is in Berlin. What I do not know is whether or not the attention that the book has drawn might have encouraged them to move it to a more private location."

  Olivia asked, "How will going to Geneva give you the location of the book?"

  I shook my head. "It might not, but it's our best bet. I have a friend who is in Geneva. He's a priest and his name is Father Blake Fredericks. I met him a few years ago." I had met him during very bloody circumstances that had threatened not only his life but the lives of most of the people along the coast of the Gulf of Mexico. "Before he was a follower of God, he was a follower of Cthulhu and a member of one of the largest and most

  devout groups of Cthulhu worshipers in the world." I kept it to myself that he almost succeeded in raising the dreaded tentacled one from his slumber in R'yleh. "He has since become a force for good, but he keeps his ears to the ground. If the Traum Kult has the book, than it is very likely that he will have heard."

  Olivia's look of uncertainty continued. "And if he does not know where this book is?"

  I shrugged, "Then the plan remains the same. I go to Berlin and I get back the book." I wondered to myself if they noticed that I hadn't said "We go to Berlin." If they did, they made no mention of it.

  "Father Blake will know something." I added. "Of this I am sure."

  At that moment, the sound of gunfire filled our ears.

  I ducked instinctively but saw the plumes of gravel as the road took the brunt of the firing. I looked over my shoulder and saw that we hadn't escaped our Nazi tail as well as I had hoped. Doing a quick count I saw two military jeeps and one large truck with a canvas backing. Most likely there would be troops in the back of the truck. Troops with guns.

  Looking ahead, I saw that the road branched off to the right. No sooner had I seen it when both Olivia
and Leo shouted and pointed at it. As we came up to it, I yanked the wheel and sent the car careening down this new side road.

  The gunfire was relentless and continued as the Nazi vehicles followed us. We had managed to avoid the bullets that came at us by sheer luck at this point so I began to weave back and forth across the road, giving our pursuers a moving target. The combination of the car's light weight and the shifting gravel on the road turned this maneuver of mine into a tactic that could be as hazardous to us as driving in a straight line. It became very difficult to keep the car under control. To counter this, I stopped yanking the wheel strongly either way and instead moved into a slight drifting pattern left and right over the road.

  As I brought the car under a more calm control, Olivia leaned out of the window, as she had in Lyon, and began firing. My weaving didn't scare off the most forward of the jeeps and it slid up next to us on Olivia's side. She continued to fire and I saw the driver take three shots directly to his abdomen.

  Olivia's bullets didn't affect the driver at all.

  I took my eyes from the road only a moment longer to take a closer look at the driver. He was pale and didn't take his eyes off of the road at all. His mouth was wide open and moving in a very slow chewing motion, as if he was trying to remember how to speak. The most off-putting thing about him was the large stitches all over his visible flesh. His head seemed to be sewn directly to his chest, with no actual neck between the two pieces. I moved my eyes across the rest of the jeep's occupants and realized that they all suffered in varying degrees to the same conditions afflicting the driver.

  They were all dead.

  A few years back, I had heard of a man who had done some very sick experiments on the battlefield during The Great War. This man, Herbert West, had been a medic and had been cited as having collected the recently dead soldiers that came in from the front lines. He believed that he could reanimate the dead bodies. It was his hope to beat death as if it were a disease. He had gone missing soon after an incident with a superior officer. The reports were vague, but from what I could gleam from them, Dr. West had succeeded in reanimating the corpse of his superior but the results had been horrific.

  Over the years there had been a scattering of reports around the world of similar events. People long thought dead would be suddenly up and moving about before vanishing completely.

  Looking at this jeep of dead Nazi soldiers determined to destroy us, I had a vague idea of where Dr. Herbert West might have vanished to.

  As the jeep pulled closer to us, Olivia moved to pull herself back into the car, but her movement was too slow. The Nazi soldiers grabbed her then. I heard the shattering of glass and the sound of gunfire suddenly filled the car as Leo began shooting at the jeep from his window. It was to no use, Olivia was pulled from the

  car, and before we could react the jeep had slowed down and fallen behind its fellow Nazi vehicles.

  As the jeep fell back, the gunfire slowed but did not stop completely. I didn't see why until it was too late. A jolt ran through the entire car and Leo let out a loud bark of curses. I looked behind us again and saw that the large truck was successfully ramming us from behind.

  The truck hit us again and I almost lost control of the car. They had Olivia and they couldn't be killed through conventional means, I was on the verge of panic as the car started to shift in the gravel. I returned to pulling the wheel hard to the left and then the right, purposefully fishtailing the car in an attempt to stop the truck from ramming us again. It was a useless attempt. Whatever the monstrosity was that currently drove that truck, it was diligent in its keeping with its target.

  I heard another shattering of glass and a quick glance told me that Leo had knocked out the rear window. He didn't try to aim, instead taking his machine gun and sweeping it from side to side out of the window. The roar of the bullets filled the cab of the car again, and to help my ally I stopped swerving the car. The bullets, as I had dreaded, had no effect on the large truck or any of its occupants.

  "Leo, I need you up front." I shouted over the roar of his gun. "I need you to take the wheel."

  Leo didn't question my demand, instead clumsily moving himself over the center console and into the front seat. He dragged his machine gun with him, although I doubted he'd get a chance to use it.

  "Pass me my bag." I said to him after he sat in Olivia's former seat. He did so, and I pulled my magical .38 pistol from it. Leaving the holster in the bag, I instead leaned back and slid the pistol into the waist band of my pants. Without looking to see if Leo was ready, I said to him, "Keep her steady," and then slid out of the window of the driver's side of the car.

  As I slid out, I grabbed the smooth roof of the car and attempted to find purchase. It wasn't easy, but with my legs propelling me I was able to climb onto the roof of the car. Holding tightly to the roof, I looked up at my quarry.

  The truck's cab had a driver and a passenger. As I had expected, both were of the recently revived. Upon noticing me, the passenger of the truck leaned out of his window, bringing his gun forward to take aim at me. He looked about to shoot when the driver waved him off. Then, with a smile that only the dead could produce, the driver accelerated the truck.

  I had been hoping for this. I carefully shifted to standing position on the truck, no longer gripping the sides.

  The truck propelled itself toward us and the moment before it hit the back of the car, I stepped forward and jumped.

  The truck hit the car with another screech of metal that I know sent Leo's teeth chattering. I was airborne and a living cannonball aimed at the windshield of the truck.

  I rolled as much as I could midair and placed my shoulder directly in line with the window. I hit it hard and felt it reverberate through every pain my already well-taxed body had sustained over the last 48 hours. The window didn't shatter. Instead a large spider web shaped crack spiraled out of where my shoulder had impacted.

  Hitting the windshield had put me in a bit of a daze and as I came back to myself, I looked up just in time to see the dead passenger raising his gun to shoot me through the cracked windshield. I rolled and slid toward the driver's side of the hood then, allowing myself to fall off of the side of the truck, but not before looking for something to grab. My hands found purchase on the mirror located on the driver's side of the truck. I used my momentum from falling from the truck to swing my waist and legs up and onto the platform beneath the driver's side door.

  No sooner had I found my footing when the reanimated driver unlatched his door and swung it open. He'd done it with remarkable force and I only managed to stay with the vehicle because I still had a hand on the mirror. In an effort to shake me off, he tugged on the door and slammed it shut again.

  I managed to get my feet up on the platform again, but I did not give the driver time to do his trick again. Instead, I released the mirror and leapt through the driver's open window. I only pressed my arms and chest through, just enough to grab the driver around the back of the head and pull him toward the window.

  My attack did little to even move the monster. Since I couldn't drag him out the window, I instead began shifting my energy to slam his face against the steering column.

  One, two, three hits later and not a sign of blood from the corpse's ragged face and the monster wasn't even phased by the hits. It was then that he kicked the door open again. His idea had been to shake me off, but I had a better one. I continued to hold his head in my arms and as the door swung open I used his force to pull him from the seat and with the door.

  Hanging from his head on the outside of the door, his body hung from the inside and he thrashed and kicked, causing the door to swing wildly. His passenger must have grabbed the wheel then, because the truck didn't shift from course, still riding closely to Leo's car.

  As we swung on the door, I began punching, with all of my strength, at the back of his neck.

  I was finally rewarded when the body of the dead thing that had been a Nazi soldier fell from the truck but h
is head was still in my arms.

  The door swung shut again, of which I was grateful. I placed my feet again on the door's platform and looked into the cab. The passenger had moved over to the driver's side and was pulling back to punch at me. Before he could throw his fist, I pitched his companion's head through the window and into his face.

  While he was distracted, I used the driver's door as a ladder and climbed onto the truck's cab. Once again attempting to keep my footing, I crouched and looked to the back of the truck.

  I was greeted with two specific details of note. The first was that the jeep that had taken Olivia had fallen to the back of the pack. She was unconscious or dead, but seeing as all of the dead things around there had been shooting at me, I was going place my hopes on unconscious.

  The second thing that I noticed was the five dead soldiers climbing onto the back of the canvas truck top and toward me. It was then that I pulled my pistol from my waistband. I aimed at the nearest crawling dead thing and was about to shoot when the truck swerved and almost knocked me off. I slid toward the passenger side of truck and only barely stopped myself from falling. I wasn't going anywhere on this truck with the new driver trying to remove me. I had to do something different.

  Still crouched, I placed three bullets into the cab above the driver's side. After the third bullet entered the roof, the truck slid and I knew that I had killed the beast.

  I jumped to my feet then and ran toward the back of the truck. I took large steps and avoided the canvas in places that didn't have the solid frame beneath. Using the frame as stepping stones, I ran past the crawling and sliding dead Nazis as they reached out for me and jumped off of the back of the truck just as it left the road.

 

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