Talon of God

by Wesley Snipes

  He released Talon and threw his arms down, gesturing with both hands at the vats of poison under their feet. “We’re going to burn the world to ash,” he said, chest heaving with excitement. “Tonight’s nothing but the first domino in a long, long line. But my favorite part, my favorite, is that your God could stop all of this. He could strike me down with lightning, or turn all those vats into hundred-dollar-a-bottle wine. And yet . . .”

  He froze, waiting. When nothing happened, he shook his head.

  “See?” he said to Talon. “One big-ass disappointment. Here you’ve got a God who could do anything, and yet chooses to do nothing. It’s enough to make a man want to see just how big a mess he can make, really tear things up to see just how much God will take before he finally gets off his lazy ass and fixes it.”

  “And is that what you’re doing?” Talon said sadly. “Making things worse?”

  Black snorted. “Better than walking around pretending to make things better. ’Cause I’ve seen the world, and, brother, you are doing a terrible job.”

  Talon shot him an angry look. “I can’t speak for God, but anyone who’s read a word of scripture knows that the Almighty suffers along with his creation. It wasn’t always like this. He made us a paradise once, and we squandered it because we could not leave well enough alone.”

  “Oh, right,” Black said, rolling his eyes. “Eat one apple because you don’t want to be ignorant and bam, eternal suffering for you and your entire species. Really making your God look good there, bucko.”

  “They knew the choice,” Talon replied. “God did not have to put the Tree of Knowledge in the garden. He could have left us no choice at all, no chance to fall. But he loved us too much for that, for without free choice, obedience means nothing. So he let us choose, and when we chose other than how he wanted, did he abandon us? No. He has cared for us always, leaving the gates of heaven open no matter how many times we betrayed him or turned our backs. The suffering on earth is caused by men like you, not God.”

  “So now it’s all my fault?” Black said, shaking his head. “Funny how he’s only all-powerful until it’s time to take responsibility. But you are right about one thing: God loves him some obedience. Loves it so much that, according to you, he left a way to doom ourselves forever sitting in arm’s reach just to see if we’d go for it. You know what that tells me? That your God loves obedience more than he loves any of us, and that’s just messed up. Especially when you consider his demands.”

  “God asks nothing of us we cannot give,” Talon said stiffly.

  “You’d know, wouldn’t you?” Black said, rolling his eyes. “You’re one of the most obedient sheep in his flock. But what has that gotten you, old man? You live like a monk—no money, no sex, no fun. Just riding around on your bike from ghetto to ghetto doing God’s work for decades on end. You don’t get time off, you don’t even get paid, since God has this whole ‘easier for a camel to pass through the eye of a needle than for a rich man to get into heaven’ nonsense. You know, if you guys had a union, that would be grounds to strike. But you won’t, ’cause you already know God doesn’t care about you. He just wants you to be good little obedient sheep and promises you mansions in heaven when it’s over like some time-share con man, and you sit there and eat it up. Meanwhile, I’m over here doing whatever the hell I want, unpunished, rich as Midas, with women and drugs and anything else at the snap of my fingers. I’ve done everything you can call a sin into the dirt, and even though you’ve beaten me more times than I can count, you never do a thing to stop me.” He grinned wide. “I think we can all see who’s got the better deal here.”

  “Really?” Talon asked, sitting back on his heels. “If that’s so, if your life is truly so much better than mine, why are you still so miserable?”

  “What are you talking about?” Black asked, throwing out his arms. “I’m having the time of my life here!”

  Talon shook his head. “I think you are very unhappy indeed, Lincoln Black, and you know it. You hate God because he didn’t take away your hardships, but without suffering, we would never grow. That is why God permits suffering, because he wants us to be strong and stand on our own, not be coddled children. That is the lesson we learn in the SEE, and it has made us stronger than the strongest steel. But you will always be weak, because the only lesson you’ve learned from your suffering is that pain exists. For you, that is the end. You’ve never even tried to learn how to overcome it, or move beyond. You just wallow and blame God for not saving you when you won’t even humble yourself to ask.”

  “That’s where you’re wrong,” Black snapped, drawing his sword. “I’ve learned a lot about suffering over the years. In fact, since you seem to like it so much, I think I’ll share some with you.”

  He finished by placing his sword against Talon’s neck. The holy man didn’t even flinch, but he would. Black had tortured many Soldiers of El Elyon in addition to Talon’s old apprentice, and they all broke in the end. The trick was to remind them that, despite all their mystic trappings, they were only filthy, weak mortals same as everyone else. Sooner or later, they all joined him in screaming curses at the God they’d claimed to love. Talon would be no different—except for the part where Lincoln was going to enjoy it more than any before him.

  How’s that for happy, bastard?

  With that delightful thought, he sliced the first cut down Talon’s chest, taking care not to bleed him too much. Too much blood loss would make him pass out, and Black wanted this to last. So he took his time, alternating his strokes as he waited for the famous Talon of God to suffer his ultimate and inevitable break.

  Lauryn had never seen the city like this.

  Despite the fact that it was barely nine, prime time for Chicago’s clubs and restaurants, the icy streets were dark and empty. Though not silent. Even with the windows up, the wail of distant—and sometimes not so distant—sirens was constant. It sounded like every emergency vehicle in the city was out and on the job, but even with the disaster that implied, the blaring sirens were comfortingly familiar compared to the noises they covered up.

  Every time the wailing sirens faded, the others sounds took over. Sometimes it was the birds. The flock she and Talon had spotted that morning must have just been the scouts. Now, they were everywhere, crows and vultures and carrion birds of every sort covering the telephone wires, window ledges, and rooftops of the city in a blanket of black-feathered bodies squawking constantly to each other like spectators waiting for the show to begin.

  But creepy as the constant unfamiliar croaking of scavenger birds was, they had nothing on the screams that occasionally went off like gunshots in the dark. Each one triggered Lauryn’s doctor’s instinct to stop and see what the problem was, but she made herself ignore them. Stopping was not an option. Despite the seemingly empty road, there was movement in the dark. Sometimes it was just one: a hunched, inhuman figure shambling just off the road. Other times it was dozens, whole groups moving in packs from house to house and building to building like zombies in a horror movie. Alone or together, they always looked up when Robbie’s car drove by, and there were always some following when she glanced at the rearview mirror, their bloody eyes gleaming in the orange streetlights.

  Just the knowledge that they were back there was terrifying, so Lauryn stopped looking and focused on Will, holding him down to make sure the detective’s miraculously closed wound stayed that way through the bumps and jostles as Robbie pushed his souped-up car down the icy street faster than she ever would have dared.

  “We’re not going to make it,” he muttered, glancing wild-eyed in the mirrors at the figures shambling after them. “You know what? To hell with this. Let’s grab Dad and get out of town while we still—”

  “No,” Lauryn said sharply. “Running won’t help anything. You think all these people are just from the drugs?” Even if a third of Chicago had been on some kind of illegal substance, it wouldn’t account for citywide chaos going on around them. “It’s the contagion. Th
is drug is spreading like a plague through the population, and it’s going to keep spreading unless we find a way to stop it. We need to—watch out!”

  She grabbed the handle as Robbie turned hard, narrowly avoiding spinning out as he swerved to avoid the old woman with red eyes who’d jumped into the street to make a grab for Lauryn’s door. By the time he got them back on track, Robbie looked like he was ready to have a heart attack. “Oh my God,” he whispered. “Oh my—”

  “Robbie!” she said sharply, making him jump. “Now is not the time to panic. Just drive. It’ll be okay, I promise.”

  He shook his head. “Don’t lie—”

  “I’m not lying,” Lauryn said, and she wasn’t. There was no way she could have had the experiences she’d had tonight without reason, no way God would finally touch her just to let her fail. She wasn’t sure how yet, but she knew they’d get through this if she just kept the faith and kept her head, so that was what she focused on, calling on everything she’d learned about how not to panic over her years in the ER. “Just get us there. I’ll do the rest.”

  Robbie didn’t look like he believed that, but he did keep driving, careening them through the city before finally smashing his car through an ornamental-fence gate and skidding to a stop in front of the largest mansion Lauryn had ever seen.

  “This is it?” she asked, looking around in confusion. “But, this place belongs to Christopher St. Luke. He’s one of Mercy’s biggest donors, one of the leading philanthropists in the state.”

  “Hey, this was where I was told to go,” Robbie replied with a shrug. “I warned you it might not be the right place.”

  He had, but the more Lauryn looked at the dark, shuttered mansion, the more sure she became that this was the right place. The birds that had been gathering over the city were thicker than ever here. It had been hard to tell when they’d pulled up, but as she stepped out of the car, Lauryn could see that every tree on the mansion’s expansive riverfront grounds was jam packed with crows and buzzards and carrion feeders, all of whom seemed to be watching her, their black eyes glittering in the dark.

  “Keep the engine running,” she said quietly, leaning over to grab Talon’s sword from the floorboards. “I’m going to go in and have a look around.”

  “You can’t go!”

  “I have to. I’ll be okay—I promise.”

  Robbie’s face turned ashen. “What am I supposed to do with him?” he asked, jerking his head toward Will.

  Lauryn frowned. Honestly, she’d been counting on him to wake up during the drive, but he must have lost more blood than she’d thought, because he was still out. “Just make sure he doesn’t try to get up,” she said at last. “Whatever happens, do not let him follow me. He’s lost way more blood than he should. If he moves too much, he’ll pass out and hurt himself, and even with the wound closed, there’s no telling what other internal damage might still be there. Tie him down if you have to, but don’t let him go anywhere. I’ll be back as fast as I can.”

  “Hurry,” Robbie said, glancing over his shoulder at the busted gate. “It’s quiet up here so far since these houses are so damn big and spread out, but I wouldn’t count on it staying that way for long.”

  Neither did she. Lauryn already thought it was suspicious that no guards had come when they crashed through the gate. Considering this was supposedly a drug kingpin’s mansion, she would have thought there’d be armed men all around them by now. But it was quiet. She tried to tell herself that this was just more proof of God’s divine intervention, but this time, Lauryn wasn’t so sure.

  “I’ll hurry,” she promised. “But don’t be afraid to run if you need to.”

  Robbie didn’t look too happy about that, but he nodded, and then . . . “Lauryn?”

  She looked down at him through the window.

  “Be careful,” he said, his voice stumbling. “I love you.”

  “I love you, too,” she said, smiling to hide the growing dread in her stomach as she turned away from her brother to face the darkened house.

  She wasn’t exactly used to this prayer stuff, but a plea to God for safety definitely seemed in order as she climbed the once elegant, now frozen-over marble steps. She’d fully expected to have to break a window, but to her surprise, the doorknob turned when she tried it, the well-hinged door sliding silently open the moment she pushed.

  Lauryn snatched her hand back. For all that this had been exactly what she’d asked for, finding an open door to your enemy’s lair felt more like a trap than a blessing, especially once the smell hit her.

  “Ugh,” she muttered, putting her hands over her nose.

  The moment she’d cracked the door, the smell of rotting flesh had hit her like a wave. She couldn’t see what was rotting thanks to the dark, but it smelled like someone had left roadkill in a hot oven: a gut-churning combination of rancid meat and burning hair. But you didn’t last long as an ER doctor if you had a weak stomach, and once the shock of the stench passed, Lauryn was able to push ahead.

  Keeping Talon’s sword ready in one hand, she lifted her phone with the other, using it as a flashlight as she stepped into an elegant foyer that still held the remains of what must have been one hell of a party. Everywhere her light fell, furniture had been toppled and, in some cases, crushed. Clothing—men’s and women’s—lay scattered around like confetti, and entire trays of canapés had been left to rot on the floor. There was also more than one puddle of vomit soaking the fine Persian rug, but not nearly enough to account for the stench. That seemed to be coming from farther in, because it only got stronger as Lauryn stepped away from the door. Breathing through her mouth, Lauryn was wondering what the hospital board would make of their favorite donor if they saw the state of his house when she heard a noise from the next room.

  She whirled, sword clutched in her hand, but there was nothing to see. Just more dark. But then she heard the noise again. It was a sort of musical clunk, almost like someone had dropped a plate on a carpeted floor.

  Step by step, she inched forward, creeping through the door at the end of the entry hall to peer around the corner into what appeared to be a ballroom. But as she was easing her head around the wooden doorframe, something black flew right at her face.

  Lauryn jumped back with a scream, swinging Talon’s huge sword before she could think better of it. In front of her, the black thing squawked and fluttered away, leaving her gasping. A crow. It had just been a startled crow. Now that she’d knocked the doors open with her wild swinging, she could see the ballroom was full of them. They were coming in through the veranda, where someone had left the glass doors open to the night. A great deal of snow had blown in as well, covering the stacks of pillows from what had clearly been an orgy room in an ironically virgin blanket of white. But while the rest of the room was still, the crows were having a grand old time pecking over the abandoned buffet table. Lauryn watched them squabble over the leftovers, using the normal behavior to try to coax her heart rate back down to sub-cardiac-arrest levels. She’d just about managed to return to something like calm when she heard yet another sound behind her.

  Just another stupid bird, she told herself firmly. Don’t freak—

  That was as far as she got before a gloved hand closed over her face.

  15

  Fear No Evil

  Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil

  —Psalm 23

  This time, Lauryn couldn’t even scream. She barely managed to breathe as she swung her sword wildly, not that it did any good. She was facing entirely the wrong direction, and whatever had grabbed her was stronger than any person had any right to be. Since fighting wasn’t working, Lauryn dropped the sword and her phone so she’d have both hands to work on prying the gloved hand off her face. She was still trying when a man’s angry voice growled in the dark.

  “Didn’t expect to see you here.”

  The words cut through her panic like a jagged knife. She knew that voice. She’d he
ard it less than an hour ago, but that was impossible. She’d already won that fight. But her miracle earlier must not have been as complete as she’d thought, because when the hand finally slid down to grab her shoulder, spinning her around before slamming her back into the doorframe, it was Victor Korigan’s face that sneered down at her.

  Or, rather, what was left of it.

  Lauryn had seen a lot of Z3X cases by this point, but Korigan’s bath in the pure Z3X powder must have been hundreds of times the normal dose, and the end effect was enough to turn even her iron stomach. His eyes were masks of blood, and his skin was entirely blue gray. It even seemed to be rotting in some places, which explained the stench she’d noticed when she’d first entered the house. But while the doctor in Lauryn was amazed at how someone could still be alive with so much obvious necrotic decay, the rest of her was fighting not to vomit. All of that was bad enough, but what really got Lauryn was how Korigan was still standing after taking multiple shots to the chest.

  That mystery, at least, was quickly resolved as she spotted the bulletproof vest beneath his shot-up shirt. A safety measure she got a much better look at than she’d wanted when Korigan lurched forward, slamming her body into the wall with his own.

  She dove for Talon’s sword immediately, but whatever was going on with his body apparently didn’t slow down Korigan’s reflexes at all. He beat her by miles, snatching up the weapon with one hand while grabbing her neck with the other, his fingers digging into the tender flesh of her throat as he straightened up to glare at her.

  “I should have known you’d find this place,” he said, his voice rasping. “From the moment you first stumbled into this case, you’ve shown up everywhere you didn’t need to be. But tempted as I am to kill you for doing this—” he turned to give her a better look at his gray, rotted face “—I’ve got a better idea. You’re going to help me.”

  “You know,” Lauryn said, choking the words out against the fist wrapped around her throat. “If you want me to cure you, you might want to try being a little nicer.”