The Last Line Series One

by David Elias Jenkins

Sporting a swollen purple eye, Isaac looked him up and down as he stood there before them, shirtless with his body still burning with the remnants of the Feral.

  “Jesus. Looking very butch, boss.”

  Brock strained against his bonds, his face dark and filled with hate.

  “Kruger?”

  Usher shook his head as he untied them.

  “No sign. Yellow bastard must’ve bailed once he got his money.”

  Stromberg stretched out his bruised and chafed wrist, rubbing feeling back into his hands.

  “No boss, he was in here with us while they were working us over. Didn’t have the balls to hit us himself though. Gave us his little speech before leaving us to get beaten to death. We know where he’s going.”

  Usher untied the last of them and stood before Isaac, Stromberg, Brock and Charlie as they nursed their wounds.

  “Where?”

  “Brock sucked his teeth then spat a gobbet of blood onto the dirty floor.

  “They’re flying him out to the Proteus to track down whatever the source of that wonder-drug you’re high on is. Whatever it is its escaped and they want the Great White Hunter to bring it in. Said he had a house call to make first though.”

  Usher felt his blood run cold.

  “Christi. He’s going after Christi.”

  Charlie tried to stand but his bruised leg gave way and Stromberg had to hold him up.

  “We need to get there, she doesn’t know boss.”

  Usher looked at his battered team.

  Usher bent down and ruffled through the pockets of the dead guard at the doorway. He produced a mobile phone and tossed it over to Charlie.

  “Get onto our contact at Special Branch and get the police out to the house ASAP. Then get in touch with Greystone and see what resources he can pool. Whatever he’s got we need it down here to shut this place down for good.”

  The team nodded and set about compartmentalizing their pain.

  Isaac took a pistol from the dead Russian, ensured it was readied and tucked it in his jeans.

  “It’s gonna take a while for them to back us up boss.”

  “Agreed. Arm up and let’s go, no way that slippery bastard Mr Styx lives. He’s got a suitcase of the Feral and he’s trying to open a gateway to the Unseelie Court. Shall we give him the good news?”

  Good news was military parlance for slotting someone with as many bullets as it took to kill them. The battered soldiers nodded and grabbed what firearms and ammunition they could carry. Then they moved back through the building down to the vault that had been the venue for the Secret Arena.

  It was empty now, the terrified human voyeurs had fled taking their top end cars with them. The stench of blood, viscera and cordite hit the team as they cleared the area. As they passed the sunken arena the huge mangled corpse of the Feral combatant lay next to Dmitri Sarkhov’s eternally surprised face.

  On the concrete at the edge of the arena was Sarkhov’s suitcase that had been given to him by Isaiah Argent. The suitcase containing enough of the Feral elixir to create a small army, an army that could make the Russian Mafia millions as arena fighters and enforcers.

  Usher opened the case and saw the vials of Feral stacked neatly inside. The temptation to give some to his team was there of course. He felt Empire One’s eyes on him, his red eyes and bulging torso. Reading their mind, Usher shook his head.

  “Orders are to destroy it. Get the dosage wrong and we end up as one of those things forever.”

  Isaac nodded and Usher took a deep breath and threw the briefcase up in the air over the arena.

  The team unloaded their automatic weapons into it, shredding it in an instant and shattering the full supply of Feral. They stood watching the ruined fluid spatter down onto the concrete floor of the area and onto the corpse of Sarkhov. Empire One nodded. Part one of their mission complete; the Russians had been denied access to the Unseelie’s latest creation. The next step was to eliminate the Unseelie connection itself.

  Usher signalled to the heavy doors leading to the ante-chamber where he had seen the World Tree. The team stacked on the door. In an ideal world they would have flash-bangs and have cut the power to the building. As it stood they were about to enter a room where the enemy could have the advantage so it was a bottle test as much as anything.

  Usher felt the tap on his shoulder signalling that Isaac was ready behind him and moved into the room. He covered the area of greatest threat with absolute trust that Isaac had gone the other direction to protect his back.

  The firefight started so quickly and with such fury that none of Empire One had any time for thought at all.

  The room itself was a long vaulted chamber with multiple pillars. The Bleak team that had captured them with the help of the traitor Kruger were holed up in positions of cover behind many of these pillars.

  On the wall at the far end of the chamber was the burgeoning World Tree, its branches reaching slowly out across the concrete. In its centre was a deep chasm. In front of the tree stood the tall impossibly slender figure of Mr Styx, his serpentine hair writhing around him. He seemed to be chanting some kind of incantation in the Unseelie tongue and smearing blood on the skin of the tree.

  The team took the image of the room in a flash, and then darted for cover as the chamber was lit up by muzzle flare and rounds ricocheted off the walls all around them.

  Taking up positions behind the nearest pillars, the firefight was a brutal stalemate. Brock ducked as shards of concrete sprayed close to his head.

  “They’re dug in deep boss. We may have to just contain them until backup arrives.”

  Usher gritted his teeth.

  “That’s exactly what they want Brock. They’re just keeping us pinned until Slim there summons help from the other side through that tree. You and Strommy flank those pillars, Charlie will lay down suppressing fire and I’ll go after Styx.”

  Isaac shook his head. “Too much lead flying around boss. They’ll cut you down.”

  Usher tried to control his adrenaline. “Orders, Marlowe.”

  Isaac stared defiantly at Usher for a few moments, unwilling to let him take such a risk. Then he nodded and took up a suppressive fire position.

  Usher took a few deep breaths, gave the nod to Stromberg and Brock to get ready to flank the Bleak team, and then started to move.

  Staying low, Usher sprinted like a rugby player, dodging left and right as the bullets flew past his head. He heard the whistle and felt the air move from some of the rounds they were so close, but he returned fire and continued to advance.

  Once Charlie and Stromberg had flanked the Bleak Team and begun laying down fire, the attention was off Usher a little and he concentrated fire upon the World Tree itself. Branches cracked and burst, leaking what look like thick dark blood out onto the dusty concrete.

  Usher was less than ten feet away now and knelt down to a more stable position. He took careful aim at the centre mass of the Unseelie agent and pulled the trigger.

  To Usher’s amazement, Mr Styx moved faster than he could ever have thought possible.

  He launched up against the wall and crawled across it like a long limbed spider at such a rate that even Usher’s enhanced eyes could barely follow.

  Usher sprayed automatic fire after the creature but Mr Styx seemed to be able to anticipate where the bullets would land.

  Suddenly Usher heard a click and his blood ran cold. Tilting his weapon he saw that the working parts were locked back. Automatically he conducted a stoppage drill and reached to his pocket for a fully charged magazine. Then he realized that all their equipment was borrowed and piecemeal from fallen Russians. He had no more ammunition.

  Even as Mr Styx leapt down upon him, Usher had swivelled his weapon to deliver a mighty muzzle strike to the creature’s torso.

  Mr Styx twisted his body as if there were no bones inside, snaking around the barrel of Usher’s weapon. A long limb wound around Usher’s neck and he was catapulted into one of the concrete pillars. U
sher fell breathless to the ground, knowing that if the residue of the Feral had not been in his blood then the impact would have killed him.

  He got to his knees and then rose coughing and stumbling to his feet. He felt his left shoulder was dislocated so clenched his jaw and rotated his arm and felt a crackle of pain as it popped back into place.

  The creature Mr Styx drew a long thin blade from inside his coat. His eyeless face locked onto Usher and the myriad serpents protruding from his head hissed and bared their fangs. Usher realized that, Feral or not, this was a far different calibre of enemy he faced.

  Behind him he saw that Stromberg and Charlie were in melee range and were engaging two of the Bleak Team hand to hand. Isaac and Brock had two more of the heavily armed fanatics pinned down but the Bleak Team operators were returning fire where they could.

  Usher rolled the pain out of his dislocated shoulder as his accelerated healing took care of it. Then with a shout he rushed at the Unseelie agent.

  With one hand he managed to grab Mr Styx around his slender white throat and began to squeeze. Then Usher cried out in pain as a hundred venomous snakes bit down onto his hand and arm. He tried to withdraw but the serpents coiled around his wrist and bit again, peppering his skin with puncture wounds and pumping poison into his body more virulent than any snake on Earth.

  Usher tried to pull back, and as he created the space, Mr Styx deftly skewered him through the left lung with his swordstick. Usher felt the cold metal inside his body then all the air was taken from him and he fell to the ground.

  Usher tried to stand but his head was swimming with the venom. He could feel his enhanced system fighting it off as best it could but it had left his limbs heavy and powerless. He attempted to swing a punch but overbalanced and fell to his knees panting for breath. His body would repair he knew but not in time.

  Above him the tall creature drew back its blade in front of Usher’s eye. He had no doubt that once Usher was incapacitated Mr Styx could carve him up beyond all healing in a matter of moments. His team were engaged with the enemy, there was little Usher could do but smile up at the demon as it drew back its sword.

  Then Usher heard an almighty crash, sunlight streamed across his face and everything happened very fast.

  Mr Styx screamed as the sunlight spilled across him and kicked Usher back onto the ground.

  As Usher lay there panting and fighting the poison in his body, he looked up and saw lumps of falling masonry crashing down from the ceiling, and beyond that clear blue sky high above. Silhouetted in this space was a winged creature holding a spear.

  It surveyed the scene for a moment then leapt gracefully down into the middle of the chamber. With fierce orange eyes it regarded Mr Styx.

  Usher almost laughed with relief. Ursula. She looked different to Usher. All remnants of human illusion were gone. She was clothed in shining mail and her eyes were as bright as an owl’s.

  The Valkyrie smiled at him, nodded to check he was ok, then pounced at the Unseelie creature.

  To Usher’s amazement the Valkyrie moved as fast as Mr Styx, who lurched back to avoid the thrusting spear. Usher felt the strong hands of Brock under his arms as he was dragged back to the nearest pillar. Usher looked up to see his team taking cover next to him. He glanced around for the Bleak Team but Brock smiled down.

  “All X-rays down major, apart from slim over there. And whatever that new thing is.”

  Brock raised his weapon but Usher slapped the barrel down.

  “She’s not an X-ray Brock. She’s on our side.”

  The team watched the two unearthly creatures fight. They leapt and moved with agility far beyond anything they had ever seen. The Valkyrie swept her great wings around to slash with her bladed feathers. The Unseelie crawled and jumped like a horrible thin spider across walls and floor, dodging swipes that ought to have cut him in half. Ursula had a nasty cut across her shoulder from his blade but it was clear that the awful creature was struggling against her onslaught. He danced around the pool of sunlight on the floor, afraid of its burning purity. Every time he sought the shadows of the room Ursula advanced, the illumination from her wings clearing out all darkness.

  Suddenly Mr Styx sprouted leathery wings of his own, deep purple and ragged like an aged dragon. He stepped into the pool of sunlight and hissed as his white skin began to smoulder. Then he braced himself to launch upwards into the sunlight and out into the sky. It was either desperation or courage but even as he leapt Ursula’s spear caught him through his thin torso.

  The creature lurched forward and black liquid like oil dripped from his mouth. The snakes on his scalp writhed in madness and pain. In a last furious move he crouched then took off upwards through the broken ceiling and out into the sky, his skin smoking and cracking all the way. Ursula started to follow immediately then stopped and turned to Usher.

  Her Amber eyes stared into his crimson for a few moments.

  “Thom. Are you alright?”

  Usher sat up, feeling his body fighting off the poison and his lung repairing. The Feral was fading fast in his body but still had enough strength to save him.

  “Yes. Ursula don’t let him go. We can’t leave something like that on Earth.”

  “I’ll get him. The tree, you will take care of it?”

  Usher nodded then she propelled herself upwards and out into the sky over London in pursuit of the vampire Mr Styx.

  Usher sat there catching his breath with his team around him. Slowly he got to his feet and faced the World Tree. Empire One loaded what ammunition they had left and prepared to destroy the portal before it was fully formed.

  As they were about to pull their triggers, Isaac glanced at Usher with a smile on his face.

  “So, Thom is it?”

  Usher was waiting on this. “We’ve been in contact the last few days. She’s been providing good intelligence Isaac.”

  Isaac cast Usher a knowing glance then the team opened fire on the portal, shattering it to nothing but splinters of wood on the floor.

  After it was over, the team leaned against the concrete pillars and contained the scene. They were exhausted and injured but they had to maintain security until Greystone could get back up to them. All except Usher, who was relinquishing a dead Bleak team member of his sidearm. Isaac put a hand on his arm.

  “Boss you’re in no state, where are you going?”

  Usher tucked the Glock pistol into his jeans and moved towards the door.

  “Kruger left over an hour ago, and he doesn’t leave loose ends. He’ll be going after Christi.”

  Isaac’s face turned grim. “If you see him before us, give him the good news. How are you going to get there?”

  Usher flexed his shoulders, still felt the residue of the Feral in his blood.

  “I’m going to run.”

  27

  The door had jammed. Carver was grunting and sweating as he shoved all his weight against it.

  Ariel stared ahead in horror at the beast that was hurtling towards them, almost filling the corridor. Its roars reverberated the metal hull of the ship, echoing and intensifying as it rolled down towards them. Ariel felt the sound waves vibrate through his torso and it sent a primal scream of fear up his spine. Several armed guards in body armour and wielding MP7 machine pistols took cover at the junctions of the ship’s passageways, intermittently sending bursts of 4.6mm steel tipped ammunition up towards the hulking monster that advanced on them.

  The rounds, which were specially designed to penetrate body armour, seemed to have no stopping effect whatsoever on the beast. It shook its great head as if it was surrounded by a swarm of irritating flies. Then it dug its foot long claws into the steel floor and propelled itself at an incredible speed, far too fast for an animal of its size, along towards the terrified security. The sound of its claws shredding deep grooves into the steel floor was horrible to hear, the tearing metal like a high pitched screaming banshee.

  Ariel watched frozen as the Bjorn literally ran through the
first group of security officers it came to, slashing out with its claws as it passed. It severed two of them in half with one swipe, spattering the gleaming walls in dark gore, and spilling metres of intestines onto the floor like discarded rubber tubing. One of the officers didn’t seem to realize that he had been torn on two, and his torso was attempting to right itself up, a confused look on his face. He turned to Ariel and extended a hand, opened his mouth to ask for help but only huge gobbets of dark blood came out instead of words. Ariel took an involuntary step backwards, fear filled sweat lashing from his face. He heard Carver’s desperate voice.

  “Help me! For Christ’s sake Speedman help me with this door!”

  Ariel looked down at the bloodied scientist for a few moments. It was a picture so absurd that it almost made him laugh out loud.

  Carver was frantically trying to close the heavy round steel pressure door, but it kept bouncing back open, because Carver could not see the human arm that was draped over the frame at the bottom. Each time Carver pushed, the lifeless arm jerked spasmodically upwards in a little wave. In a moment of irrational madness Ariel almost waved back.

  “The arm. Doctor there’s an arm.”

  Carver looked up at Ariel as if he were deranged, then noticed the obstacle and screamed at Ariel. “Well move it, that thing is going to tear us to shreds!”

  Ariel bent down and gave the arm a kick, it didn’t budge, so he grasped it firmly and tried to bend it back through into the corridor. It cracked and moved in an unnatural way as the crepitus of broken bones ground beneath the muscle, and Ariel twisted it into almost an S shape as he forced it out of the door frame.

  As he manipulated it out of the way, he heard a sudden low moan, as the owner of the arm woke up. A face broken and covered in blood groggily peered up at him, one eye swollen tightly shut. He looked confused and mouthed help at Ariel in a tremulous voice.

  “Dr Carver, he’s not dead, help me get him over to our side!”

  Carver kicked at the man’s face, causing his dislocated jaw to move horribly out of position. The man weakly tried to raise his good arm and grab onto the door but Carver stamped on the digits until they released.