Talon of God

by Wesley Snipes

  “You’re crazy if you think any reward is worth this,” Will wheezed, glaring at the police chief with pure hate. “We’re talking about a drug that turns people into monsters. Contagious monsters! How do you think this is going to end? There’s nowhere in the world safe from that.”

  “Spoken like an ignorant man,” Korigan said. “But trust me, I will be quite well taken care of. You, on the other hand . . .” He moved his hands from behind him and leveled his pistol at Will’s face. “You’re just a stain on the road.”

  The words washed over Lauryn like a splash of cold water, but it wasn’t until she heard Korigan’s gun cock that the truth of what was about to happen finally hit her. They were going to die. This man was going to shoot Will, and then probably shoot her, and there was nothing she could do. She wouldn’t be able to keep her promise to Talon, wouldn’t be able to help her city, wouldn’t be able to do anything. Even now, she could feel the gun pressed into her own skull shift as the goon behind her moved his finger to the trigger. All he had to do after that was squeeze, and everything she’d fought for, everything she loved would be lost. But even as that realization struck her like a gong, Talon’s words rang back as loud as cymbals through her skull.

  God doesn’t lose.

  At any other point in Lauryn’s life, that thought would have made her cringe. Now, it gave her strength, because it reminded her she wasn’t alone. She’d been trying not to think too hard about what had happened when she’d healed Robbie in the warehouse, both because she’d been too busy and because if she did stop to think about it, she’d go nuts trying to make all the impossible things line up. Now, though, she was finally starting to realize that didn’t matter. She didn’t have to understand something for it to be true. It was there whether she understood or not, whether she believed or not.

  But finally, Lauryn did believe.

  After everything that had happened, she’d run out of excuses. All her pride was gone, leaving only the core, and that part of Lauryn—the little girl who’d always dreamed of helping people, of being the one who saved the day—believed.

  With that single thought, freedom like Lauryn had never known swept over her. The near constant fear she’d been living under since she’d first spotted Lenny’s collapsed body three days ago lifted from her like a blanket. She could still feel the pistol wedged against her skull, but she no longer feared it. Talon had said something along the lines of fear being just a way to let the enemy in, to deny that there was a plan and order in this chaotic mess of a world.

  Though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, you son of a bitch.

  Holding on to her newborn faith, she suddenly leaned away, reaching down to grab Talon’s sword out of the snow where she’d dropped it. Just like in the backyard this afternoon, the beautifully wrapped handle slid into her hands like it had been made to fit there, the bright blade almost leaping out of its sheath as she spun around, still crouched, to slice its gleaming edge into her stunned guard’s leg.

  Even as she did it, a part of Lauryn still didn’t actually think it would work. She’d never even held a sword that wasn’t made of plastic until a few hours ago, and she’d certainly never attacked anyone. But whether through a miracle or a mix of audacity and luck, she struck true. The blade slid clean and deep through the huge man’s thigh, and he went down with a scream, his dropped gun clattering off into the dark.

  For a heartbeat, Lauryn could only stare awestruck at what she’d done, and then the reality of the situation came back like a thunderclap. A surge of adrenaline came with it, sending her scrambling through the bloody snow to take up a defensive position in front of Will.

  She must have looked a terrible sight crouching there panting, the huge bloody sword up and ready, because the other guards all took a simultaneous step back. Even Korigan flinched before his face turned scarlet. “You idiots!” he screamed, whipping his own gun toward Lauryn. “It’s just a sword! You’ve got guns. Shoot her!”

  The men obeyed before he’d even finished, their shots cracking in the dark. Lauryn squeezed her eyes shut, waiting for the pain.

  Pain that never came.

  Despite the gunfire roaring around her, she didn’t feel a single shot. After what felt like eternity, everything went quiet again, and Lauryn opened her eyes in wonder.

  As ordered, all of Korigan’s men had fired—she could see the smoke coming from the barrels of their guns—but not one of their shots had hit the mark. In what she could only call a miracle, every single bullet had gone crooked, striking the ground, the fire escape ramp behind her, even the pallets of Z3X stacked against the factory wall. Despite the men emptying their clips at her, not one bullet had touched Lauryn or the detective she was protecting. She was still staring in awe when the police chief finished reloading and swung his gun back up, emptying the new clip straight into her face.

  Later, looking back, Lauryn was never able to say how she moved so fast. She knew it was impossible for the human body to outpace a bullet, and yet in between Korigan’s finger hitting the trigger and the bullet traveling to her, she had whipped Talon’s sword in front of her and blocked the first bullet. It struck the bright blade like a bell, ricocheting off with enough force to knock her backwards. The next several shots passed harmlessly over her head before Korigan adjusted his aim, shooting at her on the ground. But here, again, she blocked him. She didn’t know how. Talon’s sword seemed to be moving with a life of its own, dancing into the path of each bullet. This time, though, the shots didn’t bounce off harmlessly into the dark.

  This time, they bounced straight back, slamming into Korigan’s chest.

  The first shot knocked him back, but the second sent him spinning, sliding across the icy ground straight into the pallets of Z3X that had been stacked outside for pickup. Even then, logically, he should have landed safely. Being outside, all of the pallets were wrapped in heavy plastic, and each one had to weigh far more than Korigan did. But somehow, the moment he touched them, the stacked pallets came tumbling down, the bags bursting as they fell, burying Korigan and his cronies in an avalanche of pure, powdery, tar-black Z3X.

  The factory yard went silent after that. Oddly enough, Will was the first to get his voice back, fighting for breath as he wheezed, “What was that?”

  Lauryn looked down at the sword in her hands, the gleaming blade still mirror bright and unmarred from the bullets it had deflected. “I think it was a miracle.”

  For once in his life, Will didn’t argue. He just closed his eyes with a pained breath. Which reminded her.

  “Hold still,” she said, dropping the sword as she turned around to place both hands on Will’s wound. Even that small pressure was enough to make him gasp, and he fought to stay conscious.

  “Ow.”

  “I know, I’m sorry,” Lauryn muttered. “But I have to try something or you’re going to die.” Given the amount of blood in the snow around them, she was amazed he hadn’t passed out already. Thanks to Korigan’s delay, her chances of getting Will to a hospital in time were nil. If she was going to save his life, she had to stop the bleeding completely right here and now. Given how little she had to work with, that should have been impossible, but after everything that had happened, “impossible” didn’t seem like such a high barrier anymore. After all, people were healed by miracles in the Bible all the time, and if prayer could cleanse people of Z3X, why couldn’t it fix Will, too? It was worth a try if nothing else, and so Lauryn closed her eyes and prayed, sending up a wordless plea for help as Will’s blood seeped through her fingers.

  Now as before, she didn’t feel any change. There was no flash of light, no sign that anything had happened, but when she opened her eyes again, Will’s breathing was easier, almost like he was asleep. His color was still terrifyingly close to that of a cadaver, but she couldn’t feel any fresh blood seeping through the scrap of fabric she’d used to stop the wound, and that was good enough.

  With a prayer of thanks, s
he left Will and began to hunt for his keys. She’d dropped them when Korigan and his thugs had arrived, and with all the fighting, she didn’t know if she’d be able to find them. But a minute later, her frantically searching hands grabbed them from where they were lodged in a snowdrift by the wall. She was about to go get his car and bring it over so she could load him into it when she heard the unmistakable sound of footsteps behind her.

  The moment Black had let him go, Robbie had gotten out of there as quickly as possible. He’d raced down the stairs, heart pounding as fast as his feet. He didn’t even know where he was running other than away, but somehow, he ended up right back where he’d started earlier that night: in Angelo’s office. And Angelo wasn’t happy about it.

  “The hell you doing here?” he roared as Robbie slammed the door.

  “Angelo, man, you gotta hide me,” Robbie begged, holding up his hands. His bloody hands.

  It didn’t even faze his boss. You didn’t get this high in the drug business without seeing more than your fair share of blood. But Angelo still looked pissed as hell, and now that his panic was beginning to calm down, Robbie was pretty sure he knew why.

  “You asshole,” Angelo sneered, walking around his desk to shove Robbie in the chest. “What the hell is wrong with you? I don’t pretend like we’re good people in this business, but man, that was messed up.”

  “I was just trying to save my skin!” Robbie argued. “You don’t understand—”

  “Oh, I understand,” the drug lord snapped. “I saw it with these two eyes. You sold out your own sister, your damn family, to that bastard Lincoln Black. Just called her right in to his web, didn’t you?”

  “I didn’t want to,” he cried, desperate. “You gotta believe me, I didn’t want to call her! But you don’t know what Z3X is like when you take it like that.” Even after whatever Lauryn had done, Robbie could still feel the clawed hands crawling over his skin, their oily voices sliding down his ears like tendrils. “You don’t know what it’s like!”

  “You’re right,” Angelo said coldly. “I don’t, cause I’m not stupid enough to take the product I push. I’m in this business to get rich, not turn into the junkies we sell to. Look at you, man. You took a shot of Naloxone and you’re still strung out as hell. And then, like all that wasn’t bad enough, you stabbed a cop. A cop! And not just any cop. You had to go and stab Will Tannenbaum. Do you have any idea how vindictive that bastard is?” He shook his head. “You better pray he dies, ’cause he will never let you get away with this. Even if he does kick over, stubborn bastard will haunt you.”

  “That’s why I need your help,” Robbie pleaded. “Come on, man, I know I messed up, but I’m in a real bad way and I need your help. You’ve got to get me out of here.” That was no joke, either. He’d always thought of Z3X as just another drug to push, but that was before he’d had it straight. Now that he knew what it did, the full impact of what they were doing by spreading it all over the city was hitting him hard. He had to run, had to escape now, while there was still a chance. He was trying to think of a way to explain that so Angelo could understand, when the older man sat back down at his desk.

  “I got to? Let’s get one thing straight. I owe you nothing.” Angelo snorted in disbelief. “I had you all wrong, Robbie. I thought you were smart, going places. I thought you had potential in this business, which was why I trusted you with my errands. I even let you run stuff uptown to the big house, which is a job I usually save for myself. I’ve been nothing but a saint to you, Robbie, but you know, I’m glad this happened. It let me see your true colors. We don’t hold to a lot in this business, but what you did goes too far. Honestly, I ain’t even mad at you for calling. You were high, and while I’m pissed you got high on the job, I don’t fault junkies for their bad decisions. But after? When you stabbed the detective and ran for Black like a kid running to his mommy?” Angelo shook his head. “That’s low, man.”

  Robbie began to sweat. “But—”

  Angelo cut him off with a deadly look. “Anyone who sells out his family is slime who can’t be trusted,” he said, waving in one of the big enforcers from outside. “Thanks to your weakness, I gotta deal with Black’s one-man torture party upstairs. That’s two strikes, Jefferson, and I only give one. So if you know what’s good for you, you’ll get out of here before I finish the job, and if I ever see you in my territory again, you’re dead. Got that?”

  “Come on, Angelo,” Robbie begged as the enforcer grabbed his shoulder. “Your territory’s my home. I can’t just—”

  “Did I stutter?” Angelo asked calmly, stabbing his finger at the door. “Get out before I have Juan break your scrawny stick arms.”

  To make sure the point was clear, the enforcer began to squeeze, and Robbie decided he’d pushed far enough. The moment Juan let him go, he raced out of the office, fleeing past the vats to the warehouse’s back door where he’d left his car. But when he reached it, he didn’t turn it on. Instead, he slumped over the steering wheel, breathing deep as he tried to take stock of his life, or what was left of it.

  There wasn’t much. Sitting in his ice-cold car with the lights on, he could see his own haggard face reflected in the machine’s shiny digital dash, and Angelo was right. He looked like a junkie. He’d never seen himself that way before. Drugs were always supposed to be a casual thing, something he did to make some cash and have a little fun while he worked on his music. But he hadn’t been working on his music in a long time, and thanks to his cowardice, his alternate career was blown. Their boss, the Big Boss, had run off the other gangs and cartels years ago to make his operation the monopoly on drugs in Chicago, and Angelo was the man in charge of the entire South Side. Now that Angelo had blackballed him, Robbie could never work in this town again. But that wasn’t the worst part.

  The worst part of it all was that Angelo was right.

  Robbie had acted lower than dirt, and he’d never felt it more than he did at that moment. Because even in the depths of Z3X, he’d known Lauryn would come. And that was knowing he hadn’t thought—or cared—about her in years. All he’d cared about was himself, and now that all he had was himself, he didn’t like what he saw. He hadn’t set out to do this, but now that everything was down, Robbie realized for the first time that he really was the failure his dad always tried to make him feel like. He’d called his sister, his one and only sister, and when she’d come to help, he’d stabbed the cop, which he now vaguely recalled was her boyfriend, and run to Black for safety. He hadn’t even thought about it. All he’d cared about was not going to jail and not getting Black pissed at him. He hadn’t meant for things to go to hell, but looking back, he couldn’t see how they would have gone any other way. Hell, he might have killed Lauryn, and he hadn’t even had the balls to stick around and find out.

  That thought was enough to make his whole body shake. Normally, he’d have said this was a perfect time for a hit, just a little something to calm him down, but after that last horrifying trip, Robbie didn’t think he’d be able to touch drugs ever again. What he really wanted right now was a friend, but everyone he knew was in the business, which meant they’d be staying away from him now that Angelo had kicked him out—word traveled fast in the community.

  He pulled out his phone anyway, scrolling through the texts that had come in while he’d been inside, in search of something—anything—to make him feel better. But all he got was a wall of missed calls and messages from his dad and Lauryn. That wasn’t a surprise, since he’d been ignoring them all day, but seeing the overwhelming proof of their love and worry now just dragged Robbie lower still. He was about to throw his phone away when it vibrated one last time, and a new message popped up on the screen.

  For a soaring moment, he hoped it was one of his buddies, but when he saw the name, his hopes fell. It was just his dad again. Old bastard never gave up. But as Robbie moved to erase the message, his thumb slipped, opening it instead, and the words glowed bright on the screen.

  It’s never too late.<
br />
  His lips curled in a sneer. What did Maxwell know? It was way too late. Robbie had screwed everything up royally tonight. Assuming his sister was still alive, she’d never forgive him for this, and if precious Lauryn died, their dad wouldn’t, either. Any way you looked at it, Robbie had left himself properly screwed. And yet he couldn’t seem to tear his eyes off the words, reading them again and again until they burned into his brain.

  He was still sitting there like an idiot reading the same line over and over when he heard the gunfire. He ducked automatically, dropping his phone in the rush to cover his head. Thankfully, the bullets didn’t seem to be coming for him, but when he peeked back up over his dash to see who was getting shot, what he found hit him as hard as any bullet could.

  Outside, less than a dozen feet away, Lauryn was on her knees in the snow, facing off against a man in a suit who was pointing a gun at her. Even in the dark, the man looked vaguely familiar, but before Robbie could place him, he unloaded his gun directly into Lauryn’s face. The sight was enough to make Robbie scream for his sister. But while his voice was lost in the hail of gunfire, none of the shots landed. He didn’t know how it was possible to miss at that kind of range, but the man couldn’t seem to hit Lauryn if his life depended on it. And then, he saw her roll up with a freaking sword to block the last shots, bouncing the bullets right back at her attacker like she was the hero of a crazy movie. Even more amazing, this time the bullets flew back, sending the man stumbling into a stack of Z3X and bringing it down like an avalanche.