by Richard Hein
“Well, if the whole ‘lips attached to ass’ job falls through, you know where to find me. You’ve already got a leg up on the hiring process if you’ve got even a little experience.”
The kid crossed his arms and grinned down at me. “Yeah? What sort of benefits would I get? I’ve got a good package here. And health insurance.”
“Pretty much nothing. But, hey — on the bright side, statistically no one in our line of work lives long enough to retire.”
Chapter 7
“What do you know about this place?”
I didn’t answer Kate immediately, instead keeping my focus on the building across the street. The Odyssey. It lay surprisingly close to home base. Had anyone else in the OFC known we were neighborhood buddies with a bar full of Entities? It was a brisk twenty-minute walk to the bar from Sanctuary, with SafeCo field looming nearby.
“It’s near one of my favorite places,” I said absently, watching as a tall figure ducked into the bar. “I’ve seen several shows at the Showbox SoDo up the road there.”
Kate sighed. “Anything useful?”
I leaned back against the building she and I were standing next to and shrugged. “It looks like a shit hole?”
“So, the group dedicated to beating up extra-dimensional bad guys—”
“Had no idea about this,” I finished. “Yeah. That feels sloppy.”
“That feels more like a challenge,” Kate said. “One that apparently the OFC never picked up on.”
I grunted. It looked like every dive bar I’d ever seen. A weathered exterior, dirty windows, and a liberal amount of grime smeared like a six-year-old’s finger painting. I could almost smell cheap beer and stale tortilla chips wafting out. A small platoon of decrepit cars filled the street beside.
All were in better shape than mine, I noted with distaste.
“I feel like we should have brought some toys from the weapon shed,” I said. Since nothing from this universe could damage an Entity that had crossed over physically, or those that had been possessed for a long period of time, Sanctuary had manifested some weapons. Most were these brass-and-glass guns that looked to me like steampunk squirt guns, though some were a bit more innocuous, such as the grenades Daniel had carried. We kept them in one of those sheds you can buy in the parking lot of any home improvement store — the only building in all of Sanctuary that wasn’t part of its lobotomized dream.
“Mmm,” Kate said, chewing her cheek. “Too conspicuous. We should play this cool — all subtle-like. Be polite. Ask some questions. Not walk in carrying space lasers.”
“Subtle,” I echoed. With a nod toward the cross walk, I urged us into motion. “I can do subtle.”
We slipped across the street and pushed open the doors. The interior was dark, the air thick and cloying, though still a welcome respite from winter. The entrance took a hard right, past a long bar complete with a fairly ancient cash register and a pantheon of brochures for other local businesses. A dozen tables, cheap metal chairs crammed in around them, littered the area. A dozen tap handles rose from the bar, and a holy shrine dedicated to a moderate assortment of hard alcohols adorned the wall behind it. I spied about ten patrons, looking like regulars that had grafted to their seats over the years, now a permanent fixture. Three over-sized televisions all played the same football game.
I glanced at Kate and gave her a wink. Time to go subtle all over this place.
A dour and rotund woman glared at me from behind the bar. Only MacGyver himself had ever worn a more impressive mullet.
“What do you want?” she asked, biting off each word. She crossed her hefty arms and straightened. Kate tensed beside me, and it took effort to push a smile onto my face. She looked about ready to vault the bar and strangle us with one hand each.
“Table for two?” I ventured hopefully.
“Full,” she said.
I swept my gaze around the seating that still lay empty and shrugged. With exaggerated slowness I lowered myself to a stool, never pulling my eyes from hers.
It was sticky.
She broke gaze first with a grunt, glancing at Kate as she seated herself beside me. “What are you having?”
Reflex kicked in, and I almost ordered a few fingers of a single malt Scotch.
“Diet Coke,” I said, as Kate said, “Rum and Coke.”
I settled a glare on my companion, fitting in as much disgust and loathing as possible. Damn her. Wasn’t one of those twelve steps slapping someone that enjoyed the life-giving nectar in front of you?
Our drinks arrived, and thankfully our hostess turned away to deal with a couple of patrons at the far end of the bar.
“And that,” I muttered to Kate, “is why I drink alone. Drank alone. Is it me, or did the temperature drop a few dozen degrees when she saw us?”
“Glacial friendly,” Kate agreed. She sipped her drink and grimaced. “You think she’s a demon?”
I paused, considering. I’d been able to sense something at Lockyer’s the day before. Carefully I pushed out with my senses, straining to feel the surrounding room. The room pushed back, somehow, a palpable sense of oily darkness, like the rainbow sheen above a puddle near a road. An acrid not-smell tickled my senses. Sometimes it was sharp, all harsh angles to my mental questing; from three of the patrons the feeling was softer, more subtle.
From everyone besides Kate and myself.
I swore quietly. “I think everyone in here is a corporeal entity, minus three or so I think are possessed.”
Kate frowned and spun the glass on the pitted counter, ice cubes clinking against the glass. She turned to stare out over the room, caught herself, and turned glanced back to the front. “How can you be so certain?”
I coughed. “Experience?”
“Was that a question?”
With a shrug I sipped my drink. “One way to find out,” I said, and slipped from the stool with a sound like pulling duct tape from flesh. Glass in hand, I selected a table at random and wandered over. Two men stared up at me, their whispered conversation cutting off as I closed in.
Subtle, I thought. Right.
“Hey,” I said, stuffing my hands in my pockets and trying to look as if I was actually sorry to bother people. “You seen Simon around lately? I haven’t heard from him in a while and I was getting worried.”
Take that, Daniel Day Lewis.
The trio at the table shared a look, never once glancing my way. They smiled in unison as if at an unseen cue.
It was not a friendly smile.
“Piss off,” one said, a porcine man that looked like the blue-ribbon winner at the county fair stuffed into flannel.
My shoulders tensed at the tone. “Look, I’m just asking after a friend.”
Finishing his beer, the man slapped the glass down on the table and turned, rising as he did. Two other chairs squeaked as his buddies rose, forming an equilateral triangle of muscle gone to fat.
More than that, all three had the sharp mental odor of corporeal Entities. Three little pigs, all from outside reality.
“One chance,” Porky said. It angled its head to one side and hammered a sausage finger into my chest. I stumbled back a step. “Leave and you get to keep all your limbs.”
The silver electricity of adrenaline laced with fear flashed through me. My heart galloped into an eager staccato. I ached to reach out and banish this creature from reality, to let loose the reins that kept me from doing a job I loved. I heard Kate peel herself from her stool. I applauded her having my back, but I’d promised to keep this from devolving into insanity — if only because the chances of getting paid dropped drastically if I knocked heads instead of getting answers.
“Look, I’m trying to help Simon,” I said, grating out each word. “Some friends of his are worried and—”
Between beats of my thundering heart, Porky’s flesh rippled like something had sunk a thousand tiny hooks into it and yanked. It clenched one enormous fist and flexed. Dozens of thick spines punched up through its skin, some
nearing half a foot long, glistening black and vaguely wet. Its skin darkened, a green bordering on black pushing away the pale, human-like color as its arms lengthened.
Another beat of my heart and its two companions underwent a similar transformation.
“Must be hell on the flannel,” I said, feeling a grin blossom. This was much more my style. I shook out my hands to work blood into my fingers and produced my baton from its holster on the back of my belt. With a flick, I snapped it open.
“Looks like we’re skipping the dinner and dancing?” I asked. I heard Kate extend her baton behind me. “Not much for foreplay?”
Porky’s grin was all teeth.
The creature inhaled, chest swelling. A six-inch-long dart tore free and fired at me. Shit. I twisted and threw myself aside, feeling the tug of its passing. The quill hammered into the wooden support beam I’d been standing next to, embedding deep at head height. With a quick shuffle of my feet, I closed the distance, whipping my baton in a two-stroke across its face. Black fuzz, looking like static on an old tube television, sprayed left and then right. My strikes, however, barely moved the enormous head.
Behind, I heard the wooden crash of a stool being shattered and spared a glance. Kate had moved closer to me, pausing only to snatch up a seat from the bar and introduce it to a charging figure. It stumbled as Kate’s improvised weapon took it across one shoulder, driving it down to its knees and sideways into the wood of the bar. Mid topple its skin shimmered, a thousand shades of blue and green as flesh faded to diamond-like scales the color of the deep sea. When its head came back up, I saw it had sprouted something akin to gills. Black, soulless eyes fixated on Kate with naked rage.
Eh. She could take care of herself.
My focus snapped forward. The enormous creature lunged like a bull, head down, spiked arms upraised, charging at my center. Its two companions seemed supernaturally in tune with their apparent leader, each coming at me from my left and right, a trident of three prongs. I surged forward on my own, ducking beneath a sweeping quill-laden arm, snatching Porky’s discarded pint glass. With a quick spin I palmed it, bottom against my hand, and spun, hammering it into the face of the left attacker. Glass shattered in long, vicious shards, raking down its face until it skipped from a protruding spike on a cheek. The creature was immune to the damage, but it turned the blow.
The creature snarled, chest swelling. A trio of spines puffed through the air. I tried to dodge, caught a chair at the table and went down in a heap, feeling a sharp sting across my left shoulder. Rolling across the grime-encrusted floor, I came up under the table and kicked with both feet, sending it up onto one end. Glasses full of cheap beer rained down. I staggered to my knees behind it, using it as a shield.
Six more quills embedded in the thick surface, points punching through to my side.
“I’m trying to be diplomatic here,” I shouted above my labored breaths. My shoulder felt cold where the attack had scored it. “Subtle. I tried to play it easy, damn it.”
“Gold star for effort,” Kate replied from across the bar. “Mr. Yuk sticker for execution.”
I peered over the top of the table, and ducked back down as another volley of body-fired projectiles impacted my barrier. Porky was keeping aim from range while its two buddies tried to come round and line up a charge from both sides.
“When you write the report on this,” I shouted, “I want it explicit I was not at fault here.”
“Not gonna happen.”
I had seconds before finding myself in the world’s most uncomfortable group hug. Pinned down on three fronts, if I tried to scramble back on my only remaining option, I'd become a human pin cushion. Options were dwindling fast.
Let me help, the creature pretending to be Lauren said urgently into my mind.
Not a chance, I snapped back.
Because being dead is a much better option.
Maybe, I thought. Magic comes with a price.
I could feel Lauren’s eyes rolling. Because… what? You are worried you’ll get double-possessed? Reap the benefits, Samuel. Fight fire with a volcano.
Porky’s two companions charged. I swore and, hating myself, slammed my thoughts into a crystal clarity as I tore a hole in reality.
Damn it all, I didn’t want to admit the demon was right, but if I didn’t do something I’d be crushed.
You want fire with a volcano? I thought, trying not to grin at the thought of letting loose. Turnabout is fair play.
I focused my thoughts as my will reached out to another universe. It took a moment, a dull blanket wrapping around my thoughts. A shake of my head cleared it, but I felt sluggish. Slow. With effort, I cast out my thoughts again to an infinite number of alternate realities, an infinite number of possibilities. Guided by my desires, my goals, my willpower found one that matched and swapped a little of my universe for that one.
Two glistening black spines, nearly identical to the ones gracing the ugly bodies of my three attackers, appeared at knee height in front of the creature to my right. They fired through the air and speared through the feet of one charging Entity — right on through to the floor.
It had a moment for a surprised look to crease its ugly face before Newton’s First Law of Motion slapped it off. Entities had no bones to speak of, so whatever snapped in its shins as its forward momentum was arrested by its feet being spiked to the floor was something else. Either way, it folded over just below the knees, screeching like a pig in an industrial grinder as it hammered down to the grimy floor.
I rolled toward it, trying to gain myself a little breathing space from its charging companion, gathering my focus and repeating the effort. Another two spears pierced through the air, guided by my will. I scrambled to my feet, dodging a swipe from the downed Entity, and noted that I’d landed a single quill through a foot. My aim had been hasty. My lids blinked with a languid slowness as I tried to focus. The second creature hadn’t toppled like the first. Instead it stared at me, twisted a foot and wrenched it off the impaling weapon. Black fuzz swirled from the wound.
Down! Lauren yelled.
I was a hair too slow. Twisting, I threw myself sideways toward the pool table at the back. Porky fired another salvo. The first tore a neat hole through my jacket just beside my chest, but the second tore a furrow across my stomach. White pain burned as I landed in a sprawl, one shoulder taking the brunt of the fall.
With one trembling hand, I reached out and grabbed the hefty leg of the pool table. I dragged myself forward, kicking with heavy, leaden legs. My whole body felt pleasantly numb, a tingling across my skin that felt like a thousand marching ants.
I cursed. A soporific of some sort? Had the spines been laced with a narcotic effect? Damn it all. My eyes blinked, heavy lids crashing down and ratcheting back up over the course of what felt like minutes. I hadn’t even pulled myself under the table yet.
Thankfully, the numbness pervading my body meant that I barely felt the volley of kicks that rained down on my body.
I’m a glass half full kinda guy some days.
Porky and its least-injured companion stomped down with furious feet. I could see clean through one boot, I noted with detached curiosity, where my summoned spike had done its work. I could feel the bruises, the pain, but it was distant, happening to someone else. With labored breath I rolled onto my side and tried to gather my will, hoping to send something painful back at them from another dimension. Fire, maybe.
Perhaps an asteroid.
Kate surged up behind Porky, rising like a winged Valkyrie with her baton raised high. Two quick strokes across the back of Porky’s head did little more than my strikes had, but at least the porcupine of a creature twisted around and the harsh rain of boots slackened some. Kate pirouetted, twisting down and sweeping her weapon up in a wide, jaw-crushing arc to the creature I’d partially nailed with a spine. That, at least, did more, rocking it up onto the tips of its toes as Kate stepped in, sweeping an elbow into its midsection and knocking it clean from its feet.
>
“Drugged,” I mumbled, gesturing at the cut across my stomach by slapping my stomach with slack fingers. “Spikes.” Some clarity had crept back into my senses, enough that I dragged my knees under me and rolled upright with only some tottering. Porky’s back was to me, but I’d dropped my baton after the numbing drug had wormed into my system.
I shrugged and hammered my fist into its crotch from behind.
That did little. Entities lashed their bodies together from pure will. If they weren’t possessing a vanilla human, they looked how they wished. That didn’t include things like bones or genitals.
It did, however, give Porky pause. He glanced back at me for a moment, more out of confusion, which was enough for Kate to rake her baton downward, snapping through a dozen spikes. Fuzz twisted into the air, and Porky screamed.
No genitals, but boy, it didn’t like those spikes being snapped like cheap toothpicks.
Porky spun, but this time I was ready. I snapped out a hand, careful to avoid one of the drug-laced protrusions, and poured my will into the creature. The fog of haze swirled about my mind, but I’d had a lot of practice exorcising things in the last six months. My mind crushed into it like a train. For a second, I could see a world of vast jungles, with odd-hued trees clawing hundreds of feet into the sky. Great leathery beasts wheeled through reddened air, all spikes and claws. The air blew hot against my face, my mind, smelling like rotted meat.
With a pop of air, Porky vanished as I sent him home.
Kate helped me to my feet. I swayed for a second and kept upright. The swirling intoxication had abated some though I still felt sluggish.
“Going to make it?” Kate asked as she squared up beside me. Two figures lay groaning on the floor, unconscious after Kate had freed them of their possessing Entity. Another two were nowhere to be seen, leaving three standing at the bar — including the bartender creature itself.
“This?” I asked, slurring only a little. “I’ve drunk myself worse on any given night of the week.”
Kate smiled and hefted her baton. My gaze swept around and found my weapon. I’m happy to say I only lightly swayed as I stooped to snatch it up. I paused long enough to drunkenly weave a few steps to the creature I’d pinned to the floor and kick it out of our universe.