by Dima Zales
Reaching me, she slams her palms into my chest with all her super strength.
As I fly back, my Focusall-enhanced perception informs me that this is it.
Once I hit the floor at this speed, I’m dead.
Chapter Thirty-Four
For the first time today, I get lucky.
Instead of a cement floor, the admiral’s bloody corpse breaks my fall.
The agony from my ribs, though, makes me wish I weren’t so “lucky.”
In the next moment, Ariel looms over me.
My survival instinct kicks in, and I grasp her glasses, ripping them from her face.
Ariel’s eyes are filled with the same black energy I saw in the intact eye of the Johnny in the hallway.
I now recall where else I’ve seen this kind of energy, and all the pieces of this twisted mosaic click into place.
“You need me alive,” I say on a hunch.
Even if my theory is correct, I have no idea if talking to Ariel will work.
“It’s not personal, Sasha,” Ariel says, and her usually sexy lilt sounds androgynous and ancient, the words pronounced with a thick Russian accent. “It’s strictly business.”
To emphasize that message, Ariel’s hands grab my throat.
Another person looking to strangle me?
Did I bring this on when I thought that I’d rather be choked than stabbed to death?
I try to pry the strangling hands away, but I might as well try to bend steel pipes.
“Was that another one of your quotes from The Godfather?” I say, figuring if I keep her talking, maybe she won’t squeeze. “If this is about those eggs I sent via the messenger, I’m very sorry.”
What I don’t add is that if it is about the eggs, it would be personal.
“I can’t be seen as weak,” my enemy says through Ariel’s mouth. “That can be deadly in my world.”
“Letting me live won’t make you look weak,” I say, and for all I know, this might be true.
“You’ve made a fool of me, repeatedly,” she says as her fingers tighten on my throat. Glancing at the admiral, she mutters, “He was the human figurehead of my operation.”
“You could knock me up and keep me in a comatose state for the duration of the pregnancy, like those gangsters you’ve been using,” I choke out as I continue to tug uselessly at the strangling hands. “Don’t you think that would be a fate worse than death?”
“You’re a smooth talker.” She squeezes harder as I kick out, struggling despite the futility of it—and my natural reluctance to hurt my friend. Grinning, she pins my kicking legs down. “Too bad I don’t have any more patience for you.”
I want to tell her that the Council won’t like me getting killed, and that Nero might be slightly irked as well, but I can’t reply as my air supply is now completely cut off.
Maybe it’s good I didn’t raise that objection. She might then decide to do a major cleanup once I’m dead, killing Vlad, Rose, Fluffster, Ariel, and Felix as potential witnesses.
And if she did that, it might work. Nero and the Council might never find out what happened.
The fingers squeeze harder, but clearly not super-strength-hard, as that would crush my neck.
Is she trying to make my death slower?
Not personal, my foot.
My struggling body convulses as my vision goes white and my lungs feel like they’re about to burst.
I thrash harder, even as my body weakens.
There’s a sound behind us—though it could be an auditory hallucination of my oxygen-deprived brain.
“What are you doing?” a voice that might be Felix’s says or screams in some faraway land.
Ariel’s mouth tightens, and the pressure on my throat intensifies.
“You’re going to kill her!” Felix shouts. “Stop, now!”
She doesn’t.
My consciousness begins to float away.
There’s a distant beeping sound, and the strangling fingers loosen on my throat.
I gulp in an agonizing breath as Ariel slumps to the floor next to me, exposing a view of Felix clutching his Gomorrah gun with shaking hands.
“No,” I want to scream, but I don’t have any air to do so. “You killed Ariel.”
Chapter Thirty-Five
My next frantic inhale hurts so badly that it reminds me of the time I breathed in New York Harbor water. I ignore the physical pain, though.
The emotional one is so much worse.
Felix runs up and crouches next to me, worriedly looking me over.
“Please let this be another vision,” I want to say, but nothing comes out of my swollen throat.
Ariel can’t be dead.
I wouldn’t be able to bear it.
Wishing I could rub my eyes, I suck in another excruciating breath and try to roll onto my side.
Shouldn’t this much pain short-circuit a vision?
Uncaring, the nightmare continues unabated.
I want to shout but still can’t.
How could Felix do this? Granted, it probably looked like Ariel was killing me—which she was—so he made a terrible choice.
A part of me wants to pity him, while another part wishes I could punch him in the face.
“Why was she doing that?” Felix says, as though echoing my earlier train of thought.
His voice sounds hollow, but he doesn’t seem shaken enough, given the severity of the situation.
I drag in another torturous breath.
Some of my lightheadedness and nausea abates, so I double down on oxygen despite the pain.
“How could you?” I finally manage to croak out. “You should’ve let her kill me. Anything is better than—”
“What are you talking about?” He peers into my eyes. “She’s not dead.”
I stare back uncomprehendingly.
“This gun has a nonlethal mode.” Felix offers me a hand, and I grasp it, squeezing his palm like a woman during labor as I struggle to a sitting position.
“She’s alive?”
“She’s going to be out of commission for a few hours, but then she’ll come to her senses—and hopefully explain what the hell she was doing with her hands around your throat. Is that how bad her blood withdrawal is?”
“No.” My breaths suddenly seem less painful. The good news must be flooding my body with the much-needed endorphins. “It was Baba Yaga who was doing that,” I croak out. “Remember when I told you about how she tried to use some black energy to take over my mind when I went to see her with Fluffster?”
Felix nods.
“Well, I was protected at the time, but Ariel wasn’t, so Baba Yaga must’ve used that trick on her.”
“That makes so much sense.” Still holding my hand, Felix stands and tries to pull me to my feet. “Those gangbangers in hospital clothing must be in the same boat.”
“I suspect so.” I shakily stand, stifling a yelp of pain. After I catch my breath again, I rasp out, “They probably started off as enemies of the Russian mob, but then Baba Yaga took over and turned enemies into mind-raped helpers.” As I speak, I sway on my feet. Standing is feasible, but just barely.
“It all makes sense now,” I continue hoarsely. “The glasses were hiding the black mojo in their eyes. I bet it’s so that Baga Yaga’s human goons don’t realize that her brainwiped minions are obeying her due to supernatural means; she’d be breaking the Mandate in that case.”
I let go of Felix’s hand to see if I can stand on my own.
It works, but it’s torture.
I take a small step.
Nope.
This is torture.
My ribs seem to be poking the pain center in my brain with a hot iron, and my throat feels like I’ve swallowed an obese porcupine.
“That’s all great, but we better get out of here.” Felix gives the door he came through a paranoid glance.
“Right,” I croak, and take another careful step. “How do we do that?”
“You take her legs, and I
’ll take her arms,” Felix says and grabs Ariel’s wrists.
Do I tell him that I’m barely standing?
First, I should at least try his plan.
I bend over and can’t help but gasp in pain.
I change my mind again. This should make it onto the list of things forbidden by the Geneva Convention.
“You okay?” Felix asks. “I can—”
“You can’t carry her by yourself.” Gritting my teeth, I steel myself against a wave of nauseating agony and grab Ariel’s ankles. “Let’s go.”
As soon I lift my end, I have to bite my tongue in order to stay silent.
“What’s the plan?” I rasp out when the worst of the pain and dizziness subsides. “Please tell me you have one.”
“We take her to the car?” he suggests uncertainly. “Maybe figure things out from there.”
“What about Vlad?” Biting my cheek, I lower Ariel to the floor and tap my earbud. “Vlad, we have Ariel. How are things going on your end?”
There’s a hiss of static in my ear, followed by a noise that brings to mind Dante’s Fifth Circle of Hell—the one dedicated to the sin of wrath. Things crunch and rip, and liquids gush on the other end of the line before Vlad says, “I’m busy. Get her out. That’s why we came.”
“You want us to leave you?” Felix says, pale from the hellish sounds.
“We’re not leaving anybody,” I say firmly.
“Get out,” Vlad says. “It’s an order. You’re supposed to only ask ‘how high,’ remember?”
Another hiss emanates from the earbud. “Vlad,” Rose croaks out, sounding like she’s the one who’s been choked. “You have to come back to me.”
“I will, my love.” The gentleness of Vlad’s tone contrasts with the sounds of ongoing decapitations in the background. “I have to keep Baba Yaga’s army in this room while Sasha and Felix make their escape. Once they’re out, I’ll have more options.”
“In that case, we go.” Ignoring my growing need to pass out, I lift Ariel’s legs again. “Vlad, sorry for the delay. I’ll keep this line open so we can tell you we’re out as soon as we leave this cursed warehouse.”
“Good,” Vlad says, and a bout of static tells me he’s muted his end.
Rose mutes hers too; not that she can say much, having damaged her vocal cords with all that screaming.
With painful, shuffling steps, I make my way to the door and lead with my back as we exit.
The room is littered with unmoving Johnnies.
“Did you use the nonlethal mode on them?” I ask as I step over one bare-assed body.
“No,” Felix says without meeting my gaze. “Nonlethal eats up ten times the battery power, and I wanted to make sure I didn’t run out of juice in the middle of everything.”
“That’s cold,” I croak admiringly and put Ariel down to catch my breath. “Where do we go now?”
Felix puts his side of Ariel on the floor and pulls out his phone. He taps at the screen for a few seconds, then shoots it with his power and shows it to me.
There’s a schematic of a warehouse on the screen.
“I think we should go this way,” Felix says, and a red line appears on the map.
“Let’s get going then.” I bend over to pick up Ariel’s legs again.
My earbud hisses, and Rose’s barely audible voice says, “Hurry.”
“Of course.” I grab Ariel’s ankles.
“Felix, what are you doing?” Rose mutters.
My heart rate speeding up, I look up at Felix.
Eyes wide, Felix is pointing his gun at me.
Chapter Thirty-Six
Actually, he’s aiming at something above me, I realize when he squeezes the trigger and I don’t lose consciousness.
I turn to see another Johnny plop onto an already-huge pile of hospital-gown-clad corpses.
We grab our burden and resume our escape, with Felix leading the way.
The door he wants to take is locked, so we set Ariel down again and I use my lock picks to open it.
There’s a noise behind us.
We turn to see another Johnny burst into the room.
He trips over the corpses of his colleagues and goes splat.
Felix finishes the man off, then grabs Ariel’s legs, as though putting down attackers is old hat to him.
“If we survive, remind me to tell Ariel to lose some weight,” he mutters as we lift her again.
“You wouldn’t dare say such a thing to her,” I rasp out in mock horror. “Besides, she’s in perfect shape.”
“That was a joke.” Felix stops next to another door. “Can you open this?”
“A lady’s weight is not a joking matter.” I use my lock picks to defeat another lock. “Nor is her age.”
“Got it.” Felix grabs Ariel, and we proceed through a hallway until we face another lock.
I defeat the door and look behind us.
My bleeding ear has left a macabre trail behind us.
Can Johnnies—or Baba Yaga—take advantage of that?
I rip off a sleeve and wrap it around my head in an effort to stop the bleeding.
There better be some gain from this pain.
Felix goes into the room first and clears it of a couple of Johnnies.
We resume carrying Ariel until we reach the door, which I open as I have the others.
Two more rooms, three hallways, five locks, and seven dead Johnnies later, we face a door that says “EXIT” in big neon-green letters.
“The car is here.” Felix shows me the schematic on his screen, with a dotted line leading from the parking lot to the door we’re about to use.
“You didn’t have to map that. It’s just a few yards.”
But he’s not listening. “Are you hearing that?” he asks with a deep frown.
I strain both my injured and my undamaged ear.
There’s a noise that sounds like the pitter-patter of bare running feet.
Must be a bunch of Johnnies approaching us. Is Vlad having trouble keeping them all in that room? Assuming Vlad is still alive, that is—a terrible thought I put aside for the moment.
“Let’s run,” I say and open the door.
The bright afternoon sun momentarily hurts my eyes, and the sounds of the approaching horde of Johnnies are more noticeable now.
We grab Ariel and haul ass.
As I huff and puff the short distance to the parking lot, my pain reaches the Mandate ceremony levels—and this time, I can’t afford to pass out.
“Should we take Vlad’s Tesla or steal one of these?” I wheeze-pant, pointing at a bunch of less fancy cars sprinkled around the parking lot.
“You don’t care that those belong to the Russian mob?” Felix pants back. “Some of them might be stolen, and the last thing we need is to get stopped by the cops.”
“Tesla it is,” I gasp out.
“Yeah.” Felix sucks in a breath. “It will also be the easiest for me to—”
He stops talking as the stampede of Johnnies streams out of the warehouse like hungry locusts attacking an uncut lawn. Their hospital gowns are covered in blood, supporting my earlier suspicion about them coming from that horrible room where Vlad is fighting Koschei and the rest of the Johnnies.
At least their sunglasses fit their environment now; I could use a pair myself.
An arc of Felix’s magenta technomancer energy slams into Vlad’s Tesla.
Channeling Frankenstein, the car violently comes to life, leaving skid marks on the pavement as it speeds toward the Johnnies.
There’s a look of intense concentration on Felix’s face.
The Johnnies scatter like paranoid quail, but the car runs over a couple. Instead of staying down, they crawl toward us on their broken limbs.
The Tesla makes a sharp, two-more-Johnnies-destroying turn and rushes at us.
Resisting the urge to drop Ariel and run, I stand still as the car speeds up and stops a heart-attack-inducing inch away from us.
“Let’s get her in,
” Felix says, and the back doors of the Tesla automagically rise.
Getting an unconscious friend into the back of a car is harder than it sounds, and we waste a few precious seconds making sure we’re not about to kill Ariel after going to all this trouble to save her.
I spare the remaining Johnnies a glance; they’ve regrouped and are almost upon us.
Felix jumps into the passenger seat, so I take the driver’s side.
Before I can buckle up or put my hands on the wheel, the car jerks forward of its own—or rather, Felix’s—volition.
The electric car is eerily silent considering the speed with which we rocket out of the parking lot.
A revving of engines behind us breaks the silence.
Since I’m not actually driving this thing, I look back.
Every car that was previously standing in the parking lot is now following us—at least one Johnny in each.
Ignoring Baba Yaga’s mind-puppets for the moment, I tap the earbud and say, “Vlad, we left the building.”
No response.
“Vlad?” I say. “Rose?”
There’s a hiss of static, and I hear Rose try to say something, but her hoarse words are unintelligible with the noise of our pursuit and the beating of my pulse in my ears.
“Take over the driving,” Felix orders and shoots his magenta energy at the big screen in the dashboard.
“Wait!” I shout as our car swerves—and barrels straight at the nearby streetlamp.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
I grasp the steering wheel so hard my ribs scream in pain. Pulling the wheel all the way to the left, I slam on the brakes.
We skid and just barely miss the obstacle.
In the back, Ariel rolls from the seat onto the floor with a loud thud.
A car with a Johnny careens at the streetlamp I dodged, and turns into a pancake.
I get our car under control, and when both it and my heart rate even out, I see why Felix nearly killed us.
He put the view from Vlad’s webcam on his gun screen, and it is indeed like the Fifth Circle of Hell.
Koschei is missing both arms, but he’s trying to bite Vlad with his teeth—so Vlad punches him so hard the teeth fly in every direction. Koschei then tries to headbutt Vlad, so Vlad rips his head off—though, of course, it’s too much to hope that Koschei will stay down for long. With a practiced viciousness, Vlad proceeds to kill a slew of attacking Johnnies while Koschei is resurrecting.