80 Proof Hex_Deckland Cain 2

by D Michael Bartsch

  She didn’t respond right away. I was surprised to see anger in her eyes. Annoyance I’m used to, but it’s not all that often that I say something that gets a complete stranger outraged with me.

  “I spent six months getting in with Maccus and his crew. Six months!” She said. “I was so damn close to finding out what was really going on when you showed up and screwed it all up in a night.”

  I felt my own annoyance building.

  “Look, lady, I don’t give two shits about your undercover work. You were hanging out with a pack of Vampires. You were about thirty seconds away from being one of them. They would have turned you. Why they didn’t earlier, I don’t know, but as far as I’m concerned, the only reason you’re alive at all is because I showed up. So how about a little gratitude. Besides, as I seem to remember it, you were the one who asked for help. If you hadn’t opened your mouth, I would have gone my merry way, and you’d still be in there right now.”

  She looked like she wanted to punch me. I’d say slap, but she didn’t strike me as the ladylike type. No, she wanted to rip my arm off and beat me to death with it. Trust me. I’ve inspired that emotional response in enough women to spot it on the fly. She didn’t say anything else. She just stood there, seething. I don’t know what it said about me, but I was more attracted to her at that moment then if she’d been bare ass naked. Well, that would probably help too, but you get the idea. I have a soft spot for the homicidal type with the skills to back up the threats.

  “I did that because I needed to get close enough to you to figure out what the hell you were doing there. Seriously, you come in guns blazing, no idea what you are walking in to. It’s a miracle you didn’t get yourself killed!”

  I stopped walking. “I get that you’re a big shot badass around this place,” I said, waving to the warehouse. “I’m sure you’ve hunted your fair share of Hellions. Trust me when I say, I’ve played this game longer and better than you ever will. I’ve seen what happens to the poor saps that get lured into a Vampire den. Going undercover in one may be just about the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard of. And I’ve sold my soul to a Demon Lord.”

  “I did you a favor. You can hate me for it or grow a pair and cowboy up.”

  She ground her teeth, staring a hole through my skull for a moment before turning on her heels and walking away. I couldn’t help but smile and watch her walk, taking in the view. She stopped halfway down the hallway and turned back.

  “Come on. Once you have your gear, you can get the hell out of here.”

  I stood up straight and bowed. “Right away my dear.” Sometimes I just can’t help myself. Alright, most of the time I can’t help myself.

  I followed her out of the small office area and walked down the metal staircase into the main warehouse. There were dozens of people milling about. Black-clad shooters were checking weapons, cleaning and stowing them on wire racks and shelves. There was a section dedicated to a bank of computers, all of them had someone glued to the screen, hands racing over keyboards in the constant pitter-patter of fingers pounding keys.

  As we walked, I noticed Carl. He was sitting at a table near the computer people. He was sipping coffee and relaxing with a blonde woman. It wasn’t until I got closer that I noticed that the blonde was familiar. Not just familiar, I’d seen her a lot. It was the woman who’d been coming into the coffee shop for the past month, Rebecca. She turned when I got Carl’s attention.

  He stood up quickly, coming to meet me. “You okay?”

  “Peachy,” I said. “Why’s your girlfriend here?”

  Carl blushed. “Apparently Rebecca isn’t exactly who she said she was.”

  “You don’t say.”

  I tried to say it as coldly as possible, staring murder at the woman. Apparently, the Demonic Response Unit had been interested in Carl and me for longer than they’d let on. Rebecca had been coming to the coffee shop well before we got mixed up with Alastair and the Vampires.

  Rebecca walked up and stuck out her hand. “Agent Frost.”

  I looked at it, not shaking. “Sure.”

  I looked at Carl and sighed. He was giving me the look. I reached out to grab her hand. She shook, her hand surprisingly calloused. She wasn’t just a face in a suit. She was an agent like the rest of them. She’d given up the glasses, probably fake anyway, and she was dressed in black, like the rest of the motley crew.

  “This is what my tax dollars are paying for huh?” I asked. “For someone to come order coffee on the public’s dime and spy on a hipster preacher and his eccentric friend.”

  Cat snorted. “Eccentric is one word for it.”

  I ignored her. I can be civil when the mood arises. I just don’t care to do it most of the time.

  Agent Frost smiled at Carl. “I was sent undercover after Carl’s truck was seen leaving the scene of a second paranormal incident. We thought he might be a Warlock.”

  I laughed. “Carl? He’s as straight-laced as they come and a holy man to boot.”

  “I know that now.” She said. “By the time I did, we linked you the Wendigo and the Vampires. I kept up my surveillance to see what I could find.”

  “It’s alright, Deckland,” Carl said. “She already explained everything.”

  I eyed the woman suspiciously, remembering the gun I’d seen in her purse. And to think, I’d found that attractive at the time, despicable.

  “Sure, sure,” I said. “She’s just been spying on us for the shadiest parts of the government. What’s the big deal you know?”

  “It’s gonna be fine,” Carl said.

  I took him by the arm and pulled him away from the women, putting my back to them.

  “You didn’t tell them anything did you?” I asked, keeping my voice low.

  Carl shook his head. “Only answered the questions they asked. A lot of them were about you, but I didn’t give them anything.”

  “Good,” I said, turning back to the women. “Now, Agent Frost, if you and Undercover Mcgoo here could kindly point me in the direction of my stuff, we’ll be on our way.”

  Cat rolled her eyes at me and walked back upstairs. I watched her walk back up, not caring that Frost, Carl, and anyone else who cared to look, saw me leering at her ass.

  “You’ll find all your gear over there,” Frost said, pointing toward the far end of the warehouse. “We’ll arrange for a car to take you back after you’re ready.”

  “Much obliged,” I said, tipping an invisible hat.

  I walked in the direction she pointed. Carl followed like a lost puppy. I moved toward racks and racks of rifles, handguns, grenades and all sorts of various goodies. There was a table with my silver painted vest. God’s honest truth, a man in a white lab coat with a pocket protector, was standing at the table inspecting it.

  “Hands off Poindexter,” I said.

  He looked at me as I walked up. His messy brown hair hung around his face in shaggy waves.

  “You’re him.” He said.

  “I’ve been called worse,” I said.

  He gestured to my vest. “This is yours.”

  I nodded.

  He leaned over it. “It’s a fascinating design. The hexagonal ceramic plates would break up most projectiles. What level is the steel plate?”

  “Three plus,” I said.

  “Yes, yes. That would certainly provide a good amount of protection. Quite heavy though. With the added weight of the machetes on the back, it’s much heavier than any of our standard vests. I suppose some of the larger agents would be able to handle the extra weight, though looking at you, you don’t see to be overly large. Certainly a loss to mobility.” He said, musing.

  “I’d rather be alive and a little slower. Those blades have saved my ass more times than I care to count.”

  “The blades are coated with oil. I’m assuming it’s anointed.”

  I pointed at Carl.

  “Got my own holy man.”

  “Ingenious. Tell me, when I x-rayed the vest I could tell the ceramic plates were fil
led with a liquid. Anointing oil as well?”

  “Holy water,” I said. “Oil would work too, but my old connection really only did holy water, so there you go. Works just as well should a Hellion get its mouth or its claws on you.”

  “Indeed. Should you end up with a cracked plate the holy water would add as an additional layer of protection against a Delta Echo.”

  “Delta Echo?” Carl asked.

  The little man turned to him. “Demonic Entity. I find the term a little preposterous but, it is official. I will settle for Delta Echo.”

  “We just call them Hellions,” Carl said, looking at me for confirmation.

  I nodded in agreement.

  “Hellions.” He seemed to mull over the word. He also didn’t look like he was really paying all that much attention to me. He was staring at the vest, and I had a feeling that the design was going to end up on some DRU tactical rig before too long.

  “Don’t suppose I can get that back.”

  “Huh?” He looked up, finally giving me what I assumed was most of his attention.

  “Oh yes. I apologize.” He handed it over to me.

  “The silver paint looks to have been added recently.”

  I took the vest. “Yea it’s a little flashier than I care to be most of the time, but I don’t take chances when it comes to Vampires.”

  “A wise choice. It’s most unfortunate that the holy water will not have the same acidic effect.”

  “Don’t have to tell me.”

  I looked at the racks of guns, trying to see what toys I was going to walk out of there with. “I told your boss that I needed a weapon. Lost all of mine.”

  “Ah, yes yes. Mr. White mentioned that you would be coming down. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Stearns.”

  He stuck out his hand awkwardly. I shook it. “Nice to meet you too.”

  “Lewis.” He said hastily. “My name that is. It’s Lewis.”

  “Yea I got that. Nice to meet you too Lewis. This is Carl.”

  “Pleasure,” Lewis said, shaking Carl’s hand.

  “Want to show me what I’m working with here?” I asked.

  “Of course, of course.”

  Lewis turned and walked over to another table. He took a moment to wipe the hand we shook with on his lab coat and squirted some hand sanitizer on it. The guy was sulking about in an empty warehouse used as a Vampire hunting HQ, and he was worried about germs.

  Lewis stopped at a table and turned back to face us. There was some sort of short barreled AR on the table. Looking more closely I noticed that the lower was a Glock pistol with a carbine upper attached to it. There was a rail on top with an Aimpoint red dot. Lewis picked up the weapon, racked the charging handle a few times to make sure it was safe and handed it to me.

  “The lower is a standard Glock 21. The upper receiver is a specially made creation of my own. Throw on an adjustable gunfighter stock, and you have a compact, semiautomatic weapon. It takes all standard Glock magazines. We have these extended magazines custom made though. It is designed to be run suppressed as well.”

  He picked up a magazine and handed it to me. I traded it for the carbine.

  “Thirty rounds each and we have them loaded with our special Van Helsing rounds.”

  I raised an eyebrow at the name and thumbed a round out of the mag. I rolled it around in my palm.

  “Van Helsing, cause they’re for hunting Vampires.” He said.

  “Yea. I go that.” I looked up at him. “Pure silver?” I asked.

  “A poly matrix inside of a 147-grain hollow point round. Sub-sonic, and perfectly paired for suppressed fire.”

  I tossed it in my palm, feeling the weight. These rounds would undoubtedly deal a massive amount of damage to a Vampire. As much as I liked the carbine though, I wasn’t the largest fan of pistol caliber long guns. If you know what you’re doing, it’s not worth the extra weight and size for a couple hundred feet per second in velocity.

  “Don’t suppose you have a spare Glock 21 I could take instead?” I asked. “Or make these in 9mm?”

  Lewis looked a little butthurt that I didn’t want to take his fancy toy, but he nodded and walked over to a wire rack and came back with the Glock 21 and spare mag in hand.

  I took it from him and dumped the mag. It was loaded up with the Van Helsing rounds. I nodded and quickly found myself drawn to something else. I walked over to another workbench and picked up the Saiga-12. The AK shotgun had a selector switch, folding stock, and what I guessed was a thirty round drum mag.

  “Oh yeah, those are a big hit with the team. We have them loaded up with twelve gauge silver buckshot rounds.”

  I turned and looked at him, finding a new appreciation for Lewis and his love of creating implements of death.

  “Don’t suppose I could take a couple rounds of those shells could I?” I asked.

  Truth be told, I wanted to take the Saiga as well, but Alastair knew I was broke. I didn’t know how much the death-dealing Necromancer knew about guns, but if it was even a passing knowledge, he would know that full auto shotguns are both expensive and a pain in the ass to get. I didn’t want to run the risk of him asking too many questions. Which was a damn shame, cause I would have loved to find Maccus and his pack of rejects with that thing.

  “Sure. You can take the Saiga too if you want. We have extras.”

  Pull on the heartstrings. “You know. If you’re offering, I suppose I can take you up on that.”

  I’d stash it in the car. Just because I couldn’t use it this time around didn’t mean that I couldn’t keep it for a rainy day. You never know when it would come in handy.

  “Let me get you a duffle. There are a few other things you might be interested in.”

  I know it wasn’t real, but at that moment, I think I fell in love with the jittery little fellow.

  I could have spent hours with Lewis. The little guy loved guns and the idea of murdering Hellions with them. The DRU may have been a bunch of self-righteous assholes, but I had to admit that I liked Lewis.

  Carl and I were loaded up into an SUV and were taken back to our apartment. Carl tried to talk a few times, but I shook my head. We had an uneasy agreement with the suits, but I wasn’t about to trust anything they said. I preferred to talk once we were back at the apartment. Once they dropped us off, we walked upstairs.

  “Can we talk now?” He asked.

  I raised a hand. I walked down the hallway and turned on the TV. I found a war movie with plenty of explosions and screaming. I turned the volume up loud enough to get Jerry upset with us if he was still alive and then waved Carl over. I sat down on the couch and gestured for him to join me.

  “What are you doing?” He asked.

  I leaned in, getting closer to him. “We were gone for a long time. Plenty of time to get in here and bug our apartment.” I said.

  Carl’s eyes widened, and he looked around.

  “You think they bugged us?”

  I nodded.

  “I don’t put anything past them. Just because it turns out your girlfriend works for a secret government operation doesn’t mean anything to me. If anything that gives me more reason to think they’ve bugged us. They’ve obviously been spying on us for at least a month. If I had to guess it’s been longer than that. They wouldn’t start by sending someone in undercover like that. Paying agents to play grad student is expensive and time-consuming.”

  In the year that Carl and I had lived together, I’m happy to say that a bit of my general paranoia has rubbed off on him, not nearly as much as I’d like, but I’ll take whatever I can get. At that moment, I could see the wheels spinning in his brain. Whatever Rebecca, if that was actually her name, had told him, he was starting to think that it all could have been a lie. He’d probably believed every word she’d said when he was talking to her, but now that I had him alone and started poking and prodding, he was starting to doubt her. Good. The sooner he stopped trusting people, especially the government, he’d be better off.

&
nbsp; “I want you to make sure your go-bag is ready.”

  “It is.”

  “Recheck it. Everything you want to take with us needs to be packed and ready to go. As soon as I’m done with Al tonight, we are out of here.”

  I looked at the time.

  “I’ve got an hour or so before Alastair gets here to pick me up. I want us ready to go at a moment’s notice before then. Don’t pack anything that can be left behind. If we have to ditch the cars, you’ll be carrying the bag on your back.”

  Carl gave a shaky nod. “Is it really that bad?” He asked.

  “Probably worse, but I still have a few tricks up my sleeve.”

  I didn’t. At that moment in time, I had precisely zero tricks, and even the sleeves were iffy. I was just trying to live to see the dawn.

  26

  I was ready to go long before Alastair called me. Everything was packed, and it wouldn’t take me more than sixty seconds to get to the car and be gone. I checked my gear before I headed down to meet Al. I had my vest, kukris, and brand new Glock 21. I did one last chamber check, racking back the slide enough to see the silver Van Helsing round. Satisfied, I stuffed it in my shoulder rig. I topped it all off with my KSG, now loaded with custom silver buckshot courtesy of Uncle Sam. If I paid taxes, I could almost appreciate that some of the money was going to towards badass tech to kill Hellions. Almost.

  I had my duffle full of ammo, knives, and more of my coffee-filter bombs. I also had a couple of mason jars filled with holy water Carl had blessed for me.

  I’d had plenty of time to think about things while I waited and packed my gear. The best plan I could come up with on short notice was to wait till we go to the Rift to kill Al. I hoped that a Hellion would come out of it. From there, it was all only a matter of making it look like the Al go caught in the crossfire. He takes a couple stray rounds to the back, chest, or head and lights out. Low tech is usually the simplest solution. If there wasn’t a Hellion when we got there, my plan was still to shoot him and tell them that something came out of the Rift. Being the royal badass that I am, I scared it away, but not before Al went down in the fight. I’d call Prufrock once it was done, get my cash wired to a series of prepaid credit cards, and be on my merry way before Mr. White and his ludicrously named Demonic Response Unit was any wiser.