by Tim Marquitz
Everyone in the room groaned at once. Abby looked up at the sound, confusion coloring her tiny features at the sudden mood change. CB was the only one to have something positive to say.
“Gett some?”
“So little trust they have in your father, Abby, and no, CB, I didn’t get any unless you count the bitch fucking me over sans lube or the decency of a reach around.” The hate I’d managed to put aside resurfaced, and I could feel my cheeks lighting up like Rudolph’s nose.
Chatterbox sighed his disappointment. He’d been hoping for a play by play.
Scarlett hopped up and ran over, cradling Abby. “What happened?”
I plucked my daughter from her arms and rubbed my nose against hers in greeting. She giggled and grabbed a handful of my hair, doing her damndest to rip a chunk out. I managed to pry her free without needing a prescription for Rogaine and set her in my lap alongside Chatterbox. He started humming to her right off. He’s a good head.
“Seems Veronica decided her own life was more important than mine and Abby’s combined,” I said, grinding my teeth as I spoke. “She made a deal with Shaw to turn us both over to Trinity.”
“That…bitch!” Scarlett muttered under her breath.
“Anyone surprised?” Katon asked from the bed. “If so, let me see your hands.” He paused for just a second. “I’m not seeing anything.”
“Katon!” Scarlett admonished.
“No, I deserved that, Scarlett. He’s right. Everyone saw it coming but I’ve always wanted to believe Veronica could be more than what her mother created her to be. I was wrong in thinking so. She is exactly that, and there’s no denying it now. I’m done trying to pretend.”
“Did you confront her?” Rahim asked. There was worry in his Barry White voice.
I shook my head. “Nope. I did the smart thing for once and let her hang herself.”
Scarlett raised a questioning eyebrow. She was a pretty Spock, minus all that logic stuff.
“Well, figuratively, at least.” I exhaled loudly and made funny faces at Abby to get her to smile. She lit up like the sun, and I felt the anger draining from me at seeing her mother’s eyes staring back at me, bright and shiny. That was exactly what I needed right then. “She’ll be contacting me soon enough to let me know she and Rala are in danger.” I did air quotes around `in danger,’ and gestured toward the dread fiend slumming in the corner, who’d be passing that particular message along. “I’m not sure if it’ll be Trinity or the DSI crew who’ll be waiting for us, or both, maybe even a bunch of butt-troopers on top, but knowing it’s a trap changes the entire complexion of it.”
Rahim nodded, rubbing his hands together as if he were a mad scientist. “With a mystic who can open a pinhole window to give us 360 degree surveillance before we even show up, it most certainly changes things.”
“My thoughts exactly.”
Scarlett sighed and glanced around the room, her gaze lingering on Katon a moment before returning to us. “We’re not exactly at fighting strength. Think we can we take them?”
It was strange seeing Scarlett being conservative. Her relationship with Katon had tamed her in a way I would never have imagined possible. I knew she’d fight just as fiercely as she ever had, if not more so because of what the Trinity shits did to him, but she had something to live for now beside the empty wish that her God would one day return to her. She seemed…reluctant to leave Katon. It was cute in a mama bear ripping out someone’s throat kind of way.
I shrugged in answer, not wanting to lie to her. Didn’t matter who went with me, I was doing it anyway. “Maybe, maybe not, but the advantage would be ours this time. They’ve been herding me…us…since the start of all this bullshit. This would be our chance to turn things around and take the fight to them for once. Do it on our terms.”
“And if we lose?” Rahim asked. The room went silent as he played devil’s advocate.
“Then we don’t have to worry about dying some other day.” That probably wasn’t the answer they wanted to hear, but I wasn’t in the mood to sugarcoat things. “What do you want me to say, Rahim? My crystal ball keeps telling me, `Outlook hazy. Try again later, dipshit.’ I don’t know what we’re walking into any more than you do.”
“Kicck their asssssessss.” Chatterbox chimed in with his opinion before gently head-bopping Abby. She squealed happily, oblivious to the tone of the discussion around her. His maggots danced for her, doing loop de loops in his eyes like tiny stunt planes. He was her world right then.
“I’m with you there, buddy.”
“Me too,” Scarlett said, clasping the hilt of her sword as if for reassurance. A bit of the old fire shone on her face. “These heretics deserve a beating.” It probably helped Trinity was running around claiming to do the work of Jesus. That’d get her riled up every time.
Katon slid to the edge of the bed and dropped his feet over, sitting up. He stared blankly our general direction. “This can work. Just need to be sure you make the most of the surprise and get the hell out before things have a chance to go south. Guerilla tactics, hit and run.”
“It worked for the good ol’ US of A against the Brits, right?”
Rahim drew in a deep breath and nodded. “Let me get Rachelle in here, and we’ll draw up battle plans and make our decisions from there.” He shuffled out of the room and down the hall.
After he was gone, I turned to Scarlett. “Can you squeeze a message to Heaven in?”
“You think that’s wise given everything that’s happened recently?”
“Not particularly, but I suspect we both know a recipient who would be less inclined to throw lightning down on my head just for receiving a letter.”
She nodded. “He always has had a sweet spot for you. Tell me what you want me to pass on.”
I did, and then we got down to the nitty gritty of planning an assault. I cracked my knuckles in retributional glee. “Time for some motherfucking payback.”
#
Okay, maybe that was a bit anti-climactic.
We sat around for a couple hours slurping down gallons of coffee and plotting revenge long enough to become disillusioned after my efforts at rallying the troops. Clearly Shaw hadn’t been in a hurry to kill us.
Finally, after what seemed forever, the dread fiend in the corner perked up and rumbled at me, its voice gruff, full of odd stutters. It was like Morse code for furry alcoholics. Of course I understood it perfectly.
“There’s our sweet little princess now,” I said, listening to the fiend as he delivered the message, barking it out as he received it from Fido. I passed the location on to Rachelle as soon as I had it so she could play spotter.
The room went quiet after that and it felt as if my breath had frozen in my lungs. The moment had come. We were as ready as we were gonna be, but Trinity had proven they weren’t lightweights. They were determined. They were on a mission from God, if only in their minds. We weren’t gonna walk away from this unscathed no matter how careful we planned it.
“We all ready?”
“I’ve got everyone linked up,” Michael Li answered, tapping his temple with his finger. “The instant things go wrong, I’m having Rachelle pull you out, no ifs, ands, or buts.”
I forewent the obvious Beavis and Butthead joke, and we all nodded. It was just as we’d agreed upon. As much as we needed to take advantage of the opportunity, this wasn’t a suicide run. We couldn’t afford to lose anyone else to these psychos.
“Veronica’s led us to a desolate area of Old Town,” Rachelle said, not really saying anything we hadn’t already known would happen. “I see a battalion or so of DSI soldiers lying in wait on the first floor of the building across the street from the location Veronica stated.” Rachelle went quiet for a second as she surveyed the pinhole in front of her eye. The air flickered, and I could feel the tingle of her power as she shifted her viewpoints in rapid succession. “There they are.”
“Trinity?”
She nodded. “They’ve hidden themselve
s in separate room that encircle the one Veronica is luring us to, which looks to have been prepared for exactly this. The walls are covered in steel plating and wrought iron bars. It looks inept from a craftsman’s perspective, a rush job, but if you go in through the door as expected, the only sure way out will be through them.”
“Nice to know Shaw doesn’t do things half-ass. She or any of her super flunkies there?”
“I don’t see them anywhere.” She went quiet again, searching, then shook her head. “Obviously they might pop in at any time, but they’re not there now. It’s the best situation we can hope for.”
“Think they suspect something?” Scarlett asked.
“Don’t know,” I said, “but the longer we draw this out, the more likely they will. As much as I don’t want to give these guys credit, they don’t seem to be dumb. Overzealous, sure, but not stupid.”
“I agree.” Rahim grunted, teeth bared. “Let’s get this over with then.”
Adrenaline flooded my veins as the figurative starting pistol was raised, and I smiled. Our pound of flesh was waiting.
Rachelle ticked off the count of five on her fingers, opening a portal as her pinky folded south. Time for phase one.
We hit the rift with cruel intent, bursting into a small room, empty of everything but the Son and his `I think I shit myself’ expression. But for all our surprise, the little fucker was fast.
He cursed as Scarlett drew a crimson gash down his spine, her sword plinking against his vertebrae. The kid spun about, right into the barrel of my magic. My hand slapped against his side, but I didn’t give him time to push off. I let loose with everything I had.
My power erupted from my palm like vomit from a bulimic stuffed full of birthday cake. The Son shrieked as the magic engulfed him. His ribs shattered beneath my hand as if they were kindling in a tornado. I’d felt his power well up at the last second in an effort to deflect mine but it hadn’t done much good.
Whiplashed from the blow, he smashed through the door to the main room, taking most of the frame with him. Splinters of wood filled the air, igniting as he passed. He hit the ground and slid twenty feet through a whirlwind of ash and cinders. We followed him into the main room, low and ready for the others. Rahim held back, holding his power in reserve while Scarlett and I tried to remove the kid’s head from the rest of his body.
At the same time, Rachelle had unleashed Hell upon the soldiers across the way. As we tussled with Trinity, a legion of dread fiends rained from the roof onto the heads of the DSI minions. There’d be nothing left of those guys but gnawed pieces of gristle and blood soup by the time the fiends were done. Rachelle would have dropped an extra hundred or so just inside the door to ensure no one made it out alive to come up behind us. That was lovingly referred to as phase two.
The Father and Holy Spirit crashed through the doors of their hidey holes just a few seconds after we arrived, fury overtaking their expressions. That’s what Rahim had been waiting for. He turned it on like a mystical repeater rifle, firing a flurry of magic bolts at the pair.
“Blasphemers!” the old guy shouted as he brought up a shield to protect himself, focusing his efforts to the fore. “Our Lord will flay your souls.”
“I’ve met your God,” I shouted back at him, “and he’s too busy cleaning up the beds he shit to worry about you little fuckers.”
The revenant shrieked and went to blast me. I just smiled at her. Phase three spilled out of the rooms behind her and the old bastard right then, crashing into them with ragged snarls, teeth and claws aplenty. Trinity’s faces soured as the dread fiends struck, surprise winning out. Their expressions probably had something to do with the fact that I’d dressed all the fiends in the blood-red robes of ancient Catholic priests.
Seriously. No one expects the Spanish Inquisition.
Limited by the number of fiends we could drag to Earth without leaving Hell unguarded, the group that hit the old man and the ghost weren’t much more than a diversionary tactic so Rahim could put it on them and keep the bastards in place while the rest of the plan played out.
Divide and conquer.
Over and over Scarlett put Everto Trucido to work. The kid parried as best he could, but she was wearing him down. He was fast and efficient—probably more agile than my cousin—but he hadn’t spent the last couple hundred years perfecting his swordsmanship. Scarlett had. He was also seriously wounded already, way worse than she was.
She chewed him up like a rock star. A feint would catch him slipping, and she would cut a ruby line across his body, spilling his blood across the floor. Only his speed kept him from dying, but she was wearing him down. He looked like the bottom to Edward Scissorhands top. A scratch pad made of flesh, he was covered from head to toe in dripping, oozing wounds that splattered beneath him, leaving smears of red everywhere he stepped.
I glared at the kid. As much as I wanted him to suffer for what he did, we simply didn’t have the time for it. The dread fiends were dying fast and Rahim stood toe to toe with the old man, the revenant taking on the brunt of our rear ambush. It was time to handle my end of the business.
I waited just a heartbeat, pausing until Scarlett forced the kid to engage. That’s when I joined in. Magic coalesced around my arm and hand, crackling into the shape of a blade. I lashed out with my arm caught the kid at his wrist. He screeched as the magical energy cleaved his hand off, his own momentum providing the torque to sever his bones.
His hand tumbled away from his wrist with an ashen trail, the wound instantly cauterized. Longinus’s sword fell with it, still trapped in his clenched fist. His eyes went wide and Scarlett cut one from his face, and explosion of gray and red bursting from the socket like an infected boil.
“Hurry!” Rahim called out, but I didn’t spare him a glance. Michael would recall us all too soon since shit was falling apart. There was no time to waste.
The kid stumbled, lashing out wildly with his magic but there was no zing behind it. Scarlett drove her sword into his guts, and I watched it explode from his back, blood misting in the air. I came up behind him as he doubled over and pulled him upright by his hair. The Son cried out, either cursing me or voicing his pain, but it didn’t matter.
“This is for Karra,” I told him right before I put a bolt of energy through his ear.
The blast echoed through the room, drowning out everything but the beat of my pounding heart. The kid went limp, but he wasn’t getting off that easily. As soon as I let him go, he flopped to the ground in a heap. I leaned over and placed my hand to his temple and unloaded every ounce of power I had into his skull.
“Frank!”
I barely realized Scarlett had shouted my name, the sound of it registering just as a herd of buffaloes ran me over. The world went lopsided, and I caught the whiff of char as I’d suddenly become airborne, but Rachelle was there to catch me.
Well, kind of.
A portal rent the air before me as I tried the shake off the magical blast that had sent me for a loop. I’d just barely realized what had happened when I flew through the portal…and then crashed mercilessly onto the hard floor of Hell. The stone was cold against my cheek once I finally stopped bouncing.
The chaotic sound of combat went on for a few seconds, and then I heard the clatter of heavy feet landing behind me; one pair, and then two, and then the noise died with a flick of a switch, the portals closed. I rolled over to see Rahim and Scarlett standing a few feet from me, smug smiles distorting their lips at seeing me in relatively one piece.
“One down,” my cousin said as she caught her breath, tossing Longinus’s sword so it landed at my feet.
I sighed and let my head drop back to the floor. Nothing we’d done would bring Karra back to me, but I’d be lying if I said killing the kid hadn’t been satisfying. Tears came to my eyes as I replayed the moment in my head, my anger welling until I could feel it prickling my skin from the inside.
It wasn’t much of a victory, but it was a start.
Fourtee
n
As much as I wanted to lie there and nurse my scorched back while replaying the memories of blasting the kid’s head off, there was still work to be done, and the clock was ticking. I didn’t, however, inform the others what I intended, simply telling them that I needed a little while to myself. After what we’d done to the Son, no one seemed to think anything of it. So, once again hidden away from the world in the God-proof room, I cracked a gate and stepped out into the world above.
A few seconds later I was back in Old Town. I hadn’t even bothered to change my clothes, which left me in a pair of grungy jeans and my steel-toed boots, all covered in a nice shade of crusty red. My T-shirt had met its end at the flaming touch of whatever had kicked me in the ass on our way out of the trap, so there I was bare-chested, soot and toasty skin out there for the world to see. My guns still hung in their holsters, though the straps were blackened and warped. I probably looked like a lunatic. I kind of felt like one, too.
I looked up at the emergency door above and willed myself up to it, landing easily on the parapet. The door was locked this time, but I sure as hell didn’t let that stop me. The time for subtlety was over. A swift kick tore the door from its hinges and sent it flying down the hallway. I followed on its proverbial heels, storming down the hall. My senses crept like octopi through the building, picking out each and every presence there. I pinged on Rala and Vol, their energies so strange as to be easily identified amidst the dread fiends, and then I found Veronica.
She burst from a room near the end of the hall, blades in her hands, ready to fight. She saw me and exhaled her frustration, her sword points dropping. “What the hell is wrong with you, Frank?” She pointed to the broken door, her eyes taking the sight of me in.
My stomach boiled with acid as I closed on her, giving her no chance to react. She gasped as my hand wrapped about her throat, and I batted her weapons away with my other hand. We were in the room with the door closed behind us before she’d even tried to take a breath. I slammed her to the ground, looming over her.