Rat-A-Tat: Short Blasts of Pulp

by Russ Anderson, Jr

  ***

  Jeremiah lunged to the left when the demon’s massive fists pummeled the ground near the cave’s entrance. Huge boulders separated from high cliffs and tumbled to the ground while Jeremiah aimed his Sig Sauer at the demon’s forehead. The demon opened its mouth wide, which revealed rows of enormous, razor-sharp teeth. A forked tongue emerged from the demon’s mouth and wrapped around Jeremiah’s waist. The demon’s pointed tail whipped back and forth across the ash-covered surface of the charred ground. It hissed and recoiled when Jeremiah pulled the Sig Sauer’s trigger three times. The scent of gunpowder and the sound of gunfire filled the air while bright flashes glowed at the end of the weapon’s barrel. The forked tongue loosened its grip on Jeremiah’s waist when the bullets lodged into the demon’s forehead. Glowing, green fluid oozed from the wounds. The demon stumbled backward while its arms pin-wheeled. It collapsed into a boiling pool of molten lava. Jeremiah jogged toward the cave’s entrance and heaved his glowing knife into the air. It emitted a bright glow, which illuminated stalactites, stalagmites, and cramped tunnels. Enormous bats emerged from their slumber, flapped their wings, and glided deep into the cave to avoid the magical knife’s brilliant glow.

  The sound of metallic gears and rattling chains compelled Jeremiah to follow a western tunnel, which dived into a shaft of darkness to his immediate left. Behind him, the injured demon exhaled painful roars while its fists pummeled rock and stone near the cave’s entrance. Jeremiah’s boots slipped on the wet, algae-covered surface on the ground while he ducked beneath low-hanging ceilings. Curious imps and miniature demons monitored his progress from high ledges and rocky alcoves when Jeremiah stepped onto a stone bridge, which spanned a deep chasm. Bursts of lava and hot steam rose from the chasm and roasted the bridge in short intervals before they subsided. On the other side of the bridge, Jeremiah noticed a long line of prisoners. Demonic guards forced the prisoners to climb a spiral, stone staircase, which ceased near a massive pedestal. Jeremiah exhaled a cry of surprise while he watched a huge, armor-clad demon, which stood on the pedestal. The demon crushed one of the prisoners with a gigantic, golden hammer. Bones snapped and a skull disintegrated while the other prisoners exhaled shrill screams. A spray of blood and gore splattered the prisoners and guards alike. The Bone Crusher, who wore black plate armor, midnight-blue greaves, and a charcoal-colored cape, shoved the remnants of the prisoner into a blazing furnace. A gust of wind caused gray ash to rise from the furnace and flutter in the air. Jeremiah gasped when he spotted Alexandria at the back of the line. She glanced over her left shoulder and stared at him. He remembered the first time he kissed her. The love he felt for her intensified.

  He lunged into a sprint and raced toward the stone bridge. He paused when spirals of lava and bursts of hot steam rose from the fiery chasm. After the eruptions subsided, he walked cautiously toward the middle of the bridge. He paused when a loud shriek resonated in the air high above him. He glanced over his shoulder and watched a massive gargoyle descend from a high, stone perch. Sharp talons clicked and large wings flapped, creating strong gusts of wind. Jeremiah stumbled backward, landed on his tailbone, and exhaled a cry of agony. He reached for the butt of his Sig Sauer and yanked the gun from his shoulder holster. Before Jeremiah could aim the gun’s barrel, the gargoyle dug its talons into the flesh of Jeremiah’s shoulders and cackled wildly.

  ***

  Alexandria covered her face with her hands and screamed when the Bone Crusher’s hammer pummeled the first prisoner in line. Loud, popping noises echoed throughout the subterranean chamber while warm blood, internal organs, and ruptured flesh sprayed the guards and the prisoners. She peeked through her fingers and wept while the Bone Crusher shoved the remnants of the prisoner down a blood-stained chute, which spilled into a hot furnace where rippling flames cooked shredded corpses. She glanced over her shoulder and cringed while she watched a huge gargoyle attack her lover, Jeremiah, who teetered on the edge of a bridge above a fiery chasm. She glanced away when a demonic guard forced her to ascend the stairs. More bones snapped while blood and gore filled the air.

  An elderly woman begged for mercy while the guards forced her to stroll across the platform. The Bone Crusher’s reptilian forearms flexed while his yellow eyes glowed beneath the black plate armor of his face mask. He raised the huge, golden hammer into the air. The hammer arced through the ash-filled air and impacted the woman’s head, neck, and shoulders. Her weak, frail body crumpled beneath the hammer while bones snapped, skin ruptured, and organs bulged from gaping wounds. The Bone Crusher exhaled a loud guffaw while he swept her aside like a broken toy. The hammer pushed her down the chute and into the furnace, where she roasted until she became a pile of ash.

  More prisoners stepped onto the pedestal to meet their fate. More bones snapped while blood and gore filled the air. Alexandria ground her teeth and hyperventilated when the guards shoved her toward the pedestal. Her eyes ogled the gore-covered, blood-stained hammer. A shrill scream rose from her throat while The Bone Crusher heaved the weapon high into the air. The demon grunted and heaved the hammer toward her upper torso. Alexandria closed her eyes and prayed that her death would be painless.

  ***

  Jeremiah stared down the barrel of the Sig Sauer and lined up the sights with the gargoyle’s forehead. The beast’s talons dived deeper into his shoulders and lifted him off of the bridge. Streams of lava and bursts of steam rose from the chasm and boiled the section of the bridge where Jeremiah had been seconds ago. He pulled the Sig Sauer’s trigger when the eruptions subsided. The gargoyle thrashed in the air and screamed when one of the bullets ripped the left side of its head to shreds. Its talons loosened their grip on Jeremiah’s shoulders. Bone fragments and brain matter pulsed from a gaping wound in the gargoyle’s skull. Jeremiah tumbled through the air and landed on the bridge. He glanced over his shoulder and watched the gargoyle’s corpse tumble through the air before it landed in a pool of lava. The stench of burnt flesh filled the air moments later.

  Jeremiah bent his knees and snared the glowing knife from the bridge. He trotted across the bridge and sprinted toward the stone, spiral staircase. He gasped while he watched the demonic guards force Alexandria to approach the pedestal. His boots slipped on congealed blood and organic residue while he charged up the stairs. The Bone Crusher heaved the golden hammer into the air and swung it toward Alexandria’s upper torso. He clenched his fists and ground his teeth while he listened to her beg for mercy.

  The Sig Sauer shook in Jeremiah’s left hand while he aimed it at The Bone Crusher’s chest. Bright flashes surrounded the gun’s barrel while he pulled the trigger. He cursed at himself when the round missed its target. He panicked when he realized that his clip was empty. His free hand reached for his duty belt and yanked a full clip from a leather pouch. The Bone Crusher exhaled a roar of fury and swatted Alexandria aside like a rag doll. The executioner plodded across the pedestal and raised the golden hammer high above Jeremiah’s chest. He pressed a button, popped the spent clip from the Sig Sauer’s handle, and jammed the new clip into the weapon. He yanked the barrel back and made sure that a live round was in the chamber. The Bone Crusher swung the hammer in a wide arc through the air. Jeremiah rolled to his left, aimed the gun at the demon’s midsection, and pulled the trigger four times. All of the rounds impacted The Bone Crusher’s abdomen. Mounds of intestines bulged from wide, gaping wounds.

  “What have you done? The Soul Master will punish you for this! You’ve disrupted the feeding process!” The Bone Crusher said.

  The demonic guards rushed to The Bone Crusher’s aid. They examined the wounds and monitored the executioner’s vital signs. Huge amounts of blood poured from the bullet holes and abdominal gashes. The Bone Crusher exhaled a wail of agony while he clutched his stomach. He tripped over the golden hammer and collapsed onto the pedestal while he tried to shove his intestines inside his abdomen. Moments later, The Bone Crusher’s eyes rolled into the back of his head while he inhaled his final brea
th of air. His body grew limp and still. The ground rumbled and chunks of stone fell from the high ceilings of the chamber. The guards scrambled and searched for escape routes while a high-pitched shriek emanated from the bottom of the chasm. Alexandria raced across the pedestal and hugged Jeremiah. He cradled her in his arms while a massive eruption and a powerful earthquake caused cavernous walls to fracture and split all around them.

  ***

  “Come with me, Alexandria! We’re running out of time! If we don’t escape from this cave, we’ll be buried alive!” Jeremiah said. He spotted a key ring, which one of the guards had dropped on the ground. He unlocked Alexandria’s manacles, removed them from her wrists, and escorted her toward the stone, spiral staircase.

  “I don’t think we’ll make it across the bridge!” Alexandria said.

  Jeremiah ignored her and ascended the spiral staircase quickly. She gave chase and cringed while she waded through piles of flesh and pools of congealed blood. At the bottom of the stairs, Jeremiah wrapped his free hand around Alexandria’s left forearm. He yanked her toward the bridge. He paused when bursts of lava and hot steam rushed upward from the chasm. After the eruptions subsided, he sprinted forward and dragged her along behind him. Moments before they reached the other side of the bridge, a shrill voice exhaled a deafening scream. Jeremiah and Alexandria glanced down into the chasm and screamed. A towering monstrosity emerged from rippling flames, boiling lava, and hot steam. Bright, yellow eyes probed them from a huge, pale face.

  The Soul Master stood upright while hot lava flowed across the defined chest and broad shoulders of his massive frame. Massive, goat-like horns protruded from the white mess of his long, tangled hair. Long, black claws extended from his tree-sized fingers. Hot, white flames flowed from between The Soul Master’s purple lips and his flaring nostrils. The behemoth’s jaw dropped open and allowed Jeremiah to view a black, forked tongue and a forest of sharp, massive teeth. Human skeletons bobbed in pools of saliva at the base of The Soul Master’s tongue.

  White, transparent wings extended from The Soul Master’s arched back and flapped suddenly, creating strong gusts of wind. Jeremiah stumbled backward, fell off the last section of the bridge, and collapsed onto a pile of rocks. The Soul Master leaned forward and analyzed the magic blade in Jeremiah’s hand. He jumped to his feet and hurled the blade toward The Soul Master’s left eye. The blade penetrated the eye’s iris, which caused a bolt of holy energy to ripple along the optic nerve. The Soul Master exhaled a wail of agony that caused the entire cave to shudder. Jeremiah sprinted toward Alexandria and escorted her from the cave while The Soul Master thrashed and screamed.

  “Thank you for saving me. I love you so much,” she said.

  “I could never live without you. You mean everything to me,” he replied.

  They emerged from the cave and sought refuge in the mechanical spider’s cockpit. Jeremiah powered up the engines, yanked the lever and guided them away from the cave’s entrance. They departed from Brimstone Gulch and headed home. And they hoped they would never encounter The Soul Master or his minions ever again.

  THE WELCOME WAGON

  By Mark Gelineau

  "Boss, wake up."

  Carmine Vanzetti opened a heavy eyelid, still drowsy. He had slept for most of the long train rides on his journey from Chicago to San Francisco, but on this last stretch he had dozed fitfully, his mind full of the details necessary to transition into full operation here in California. Let the other families fight it out for scraps in New York and Chicago. That was old news. The west was where the real action was going to be and it lay ripe and ready for the taking, if a man had the nerve to act and wasn't afraid of a little blood. Vanzetti was many things, but squeamish was not one of them.

  "Boss, please. We got a problem."

  Without opening his eyes, he turned his head towards his chief enforcer with an annoyed expression. "Vincent, before I settled in to doze away the final hours of this dreary train ride, I specifically told you I did not want to be disturbed. Yet, now I find you disturbing me. What am I to make of that?"

  He opened his eyes to glare at Vincent, but the look and the subtle menace in the crime boss's voice were lost on his lieutenant, as Vincent and the three other soldiers of the Vanzetti crime organization were looking not at him, but out the windows into the deep darkness of the night.

  Curious, Vanzetti sat up in his comfortable chair and tossed the blanket to the floor. "What is going on?" he asked, now fully alert.

  Vincent looked back at his boss and shook his head. "Don't know Boss. But it sure feels like we're slowing down. And the train has gone awful quiet. Something ain't right."

  At Vincent's words, Vanzetti noticed how correct his lieutenant was. The rhythmic clacking of the train on the rails was gone, and even the sense of motion was feeling less distinct. They weren't just slowing down. The train was coming to a stop.

  "We are still at least an hour outside of San Francisco. And there are no scheduled stops on this leg. Vincent, find out what delays us, if you please."

  Vincent nodded and gestured for one of the men to head forward from their private car. The man went to the door and opened it, but outside there was nothing but empty track.

  Their car had been unhooked. The rest of the train was gone.

  Immediately, Vincent went to the far door and threw it open. There was no car trailing them either. Their private Pullman car was now alone on the tracks in the middle of the northern California hills. Vincent pulled a revolver from beneath his coat, and the rest of his soldiers followed suit.

  Because they had been traveling, the best armament they carried were pistols. It was supposed to have been an easy trip. There were no rival organizations of strength out here. That was one of the main reasons the operation was moving here in the first place. Boss Vanzetti moved away from the windows and towards the center of the car. He had orchestrated enough hits in his rise to the top to know that he was in trouble.

  This feeling was confirmed when he smelled the smoke.

  "They're burning us out boys," yelled Vincent. “Get the boss outside and be ready to drop somebody if they make a move."

  Two of the men moved to flank Vanzetti as they headed towards the front door of the Pullman car. Already, the soldier by the door was out and peering into the dark night. Vanzetti could see him through the open door when a shadow suddenly materialized out of nowhere, looming behind the man. A quick blur of motion and then an enormous knock sounded and the man flew off his feet, his pistol falling from his hand.

  "There!" yelled Boss Vanzetti, and the rest of his men opened fire through the door of the train car. Bullets hit the doorway and out into the night and the bright flash from the muzzles lit up the train car.

  Amid the chaos and cacophony of the gunshots, Vanzetti felt a stirring of air behind him. He half turned to look and there, right behind one of his men, was a slim, beautiful girl of Chinese ancestry. She winked at him, and then put a finger to her lips in a shushing motion. On the tips of her fingers were polished brass coverings that curved into wickedly sharp claws. As he drew breath to yell a warning she struck. She raked her fingers at the arm of Vanzetti's right hand guard and the man crumpled to his feet with a scream and a fountain of crimson, his gun falling uselessly to the floor. With a quick and savage kick, she knocked him unconscious and then smiled widely at the crime boss.

  Boss Vanzetti stumbled backwards, away from the grin and bloodstained finger-claws of the Asian girl. Suddenly, he tripped on something solid and fell backwards against the wall of the Pullman car, hitting his head on the polished wood. He looked down and saw the unconscious form of his other soldier there, a vicious red line drawn across the white expanse of his cheek and an ugly bruise at his temple.

  He looked up. Standing over him and next to the girl, was a tall, lean man in a dark suit. He had a pencil thin mustache and was admiring the light shining off the exposed blade of a straight razor. The other hand held its twin, folded into a pearl handle.
His eyes looked from the razor blade to Vanzetti and then he smiled and gestured to the front of the car.

  Boss Vanzetti yelled out for Vincent, the last of his soldiers still up, but when he looked over to where the razor-toting man was pointing, he saw his trusted lieutenant engaged in a furious struggle with a huge, barrel chested man.

  Vincent tried to take a shot at the large man, but the stranger was shockingly fast, given his size. He brought an arm up in a quick punch that took Vincent on the inside of his wrist and knocked his gun wide. Then, the man came around with his other hand. Gripped tightly in that huge fist was a long, gnarled piece of polished blackthorn wood about three feet long with a ball-like knot at the top. An Irish shillelagh. The head of that vicious cudgel connected with Vincent's jaw and a cracking sound echoed in the carriage. Three teeth flew against the far wall and Vincent collapsed in a heap.