by Derek Landy
But she couldn’t lose hope. The Remnant had gifted her with many things, wisdom and memories and skills beyond her experience, but she’d brought a lot to the table as well. A keen sense of style, a wicked sense of humour, a fine edge of determination, and a whole heap of optimism. She was Tanith Low, for God’s sake. If anyone could pull this off, it was going to be her.
Of course, she’d probably have a runny nose when she did it. It was cold in Poland. She hadn’t spent an awful lot of time there over the years, but she knew it wasn’t always as cold as this. The last time she was there the sun had been shining and she’d had to resist the urge to go skinny-dipping.
She laid the bike on to its kickstand. Hanging the helmet off one of the handlebars, she wrapped her coat round herself and made her way down to the beach. No skinny-dipping today, she reckoned. The sea churned against the pebbled beach and a light rain spat down at her. She walked to the rocks and after a few minutes found the cave.
“Hello,” she called. “Do you have a minute? I’d like a chat.”
The sound of the wind through the cave was like a great beast yawning.
“Crab,” she called. “Don’t make me come in there after you.”
A few moments later, a man emerged from the darkness. He looked to be in his seventies, with long grey hair and a long grey beard that hung in matted clumps. He held a long spear in his right hand. Despite the cold he was wearing only a loincloth.
“It’s OK,” Tanith told him, “I’ll wait here until you put on some trousers.”
“Why have you come?” said the old man in perfect English, seemingly unaware that his loincloth was more loin than cloth.
“For the spear,” Tanith said. “Want to give it to me? I’m trying my very best not to look down. The least you can do is give me the spear.”
“The spear is not for sale,” said Crab.
“I wasn’t planning on buying it.” She took out her sword.
“I see,” said Crab. “And if I do not gift you with it?”
“I’ll take it from you and you won’t enjoy it. Seriously, old man, take the easy way out here.”
“The spear is mine.”
“Now you’re being childish.”
“It is too powerful a weapon to let fall into the hands of one so young and impetuous. You should go home. You will find only death upon this beach. I take no pleasure in killing, though I do it so well.”
“I like the way you talk,” Tanith said.
“If you like my words, take them and run. Don’t make me kill one as young as you.”
“I’m older than I look,” Tanith said, and sprang. Crab thrust his spear towards her and she batted it away with her blade, but he was already moving out of range as she landed. She stalked him as he moved away from the cave.
“I have seen a thousand years,” said Crab. “I have seen empires rise and fall. I have seen the patterns in which men live, the ebb and flow of the tide of history. Each wave that breaks upon the shore thinks itself the first, but there have been many before it, and there will be many long after it has broken, and drawn back to the sea. I am an old man.”
“And I have lifetimes inside me,” said Tanith. “I’m the girl you see standing here, and I’m a cranky old professor, and I’m a peace-loving man, and I’m a killer and a maid and a king and a peasant. I am a dozen more. You think you’re old?” Tanith let her lips turn black and her veins show. “You got nothing on me.”
She lunged, but the spear rose to meet her. She dodged left, trying to get around it, but Crab was nimble and the spear tip whispered by her face. She stumbled back.
“Then I am sorry,” Crab said. “Whoever you once were, you are no longer. You are now a Remnant, and as such you are undeserving of my mercy. You will die here, on this beach. That is as much as I can give you.”
He took a sudden step forward, and his spear came at Tanith’s head so fast she let out a curse as she knocked it away. It didn’t go far, however, and nearly sliced her throat open on the return swing. It darted at her like a snake – it was all she could do to keep it from drawing blood. The sand wasn’t helping matters. She hated fighting on sand. Always had.
Tanith’s blade slashed at the spear and she spun and jumped, but Crab sidestepped, cracked the shaft against her head. She went down, tumbled, rolling to her feet as the spear jabbed, almost catching her. She blocked, blocked again, backing up as Crab advanced, the spear flicking at her low and then high, darting at her belly and then her arm. She couldn’t get close to him. The spear was too long and her sword was too short.
She tried flipping away, but her feet sank into the sand before take-off, and she ended up throwing herself awkwardly back. She scrambled up, ripping off her coat. She wrapped it round her left forearm as Crab came at her. Using the coat as a shield to deflect his attacks, she took the fight to him. Now it was his turn to back away, as her sword got closer with every step she took. His eyes were widening, she saw. She grinned.
He stumbled in the sand and she flung her left arm wide, her coat wrapping round the spear. She yanked it from his grip and the spear fell somewhere behind her. Crab scrambled back on his hands, came up in a crouch. Tanith let her coat drop as she walked towards him, twirling her sword.
“Lovely day for it,” she said.
He backed up on to the wet sand, which sucked lightly at his bare feet. It was greedier with Tanith’s boot, and she retreated on to firmer ground before she lost her advantage. Crab’s beard twitched, and she realised he was smiling. She couldn’t get to him without sacrificing her agility, and the spear was too far behind her to be sure of reaching it before he did. He was quicker than he looked, and light.
She started backing up slowly. He followed, closing the gap ever so slightly. She risked a glance behind, to check where the spear had landed, and Crab charged, bare feet padding across the sand like it was a running track. She slashed at him and he rolled beneath her blade, taking her legs from under her. She hit the ground and he scuttled on to her back, wrapping his legs round her waist as she struggled to get up. He pulled her hair, exposing her throat, wrapping an arm round. She let go of the sword and got to her feet, staggering, the old hermit clinging to her. Her feet plunged into wet sand and she fell and they rolled into the cold surf. Her hands were at his arm to loosen the choke while she tried twisting her hips to escape the grip his legs had on her. They rolled into the waves and for a moment Tanith was submerged.
She heaved, and now Crab was on his back. She pressed all her weight on to him, trying to force his head beneath the water, but she didn’t have time to mess around. Another few seconds of this choke and she’d lose consciousness.
She dug her nails into his arm and dragged downwards. Crab repositioned his arm and the choke came back on, stronger than before, but Tanith had snatched a breath in that instant and felt her head clear. Crab’s legs were still wrapped round her, his ankles crossed. She brought her own ankle up to rest against his and increased the pressure. She heard him hiss with pain. Another wave came in, stinging her eyes, and she felt the grip round her waist loosen.
She spun in place, her hands closing round Crab’s throat while she sucked in a lungful of air. Fear and desperation gave the old man strength, and he bucked and kicked beneath her. She tried to straddle him, but he brought in his left leg, planted his foot on her hip, tried to shove her back. She ignored the effort. She pressed him down, beneath the water. Her hands were a vice, ever-tightening. Gradually, his struggles lessened. And then stopped altogether.
When he was dead, Tanith walked out of the sea on to the beach. Dripping wet and freezing, she picked up her sword and her coat, and then the spear. She took out her phone and dialled.
“Got it?” Sanguine asked.
“Three down,” she said, shivering. “He put up more of a fight than I was expecting. Tough old guy. Could’ve done with some trousers.”
“I ain’t even gonna ask.”
“What about Vex? Any sign?”
“Minutes away. The welcoming committee is in place, don’t you fret. We’ll meet you back at the boat.”
She hung up, and took the trail off the beach to where the grasses pushed from the sand, up to the ridge where she’d left the bike. Here, a car was parked that hadn’t been there before, and two people sat in it, a man and a woman. Both with their throats cut. Tanith peered through the closed window, saw the rifle lying on the back seat. Her guardian angel had struck again.
Glancing around her, she hurried to the bike and got the hell out of there.
ex looked out of the window at the fields and trees of rural Poland as they whipped by, and saw the landing strip ahead. It was a small airfield with a few shacks and a tower, bridged by a fence. They came in gently, and were mere metres off the ground when Saracen sat bolt upright.
“Rocket!” he shouted.
An instant later, a flash from outside caught Vex’s eye, but Aurora was already moving. She snapped her hands and the window beside her flew apart. Air rushed in as she reached out, and it was all she could do to deflect the rocket into the ground. The explosion shunted the plane sideways. It hit the landing strip and spun. Vex cracked his head and bags fell and a terrible screeching rose from beneath. The plane came to a sudden stop. Vex was out of his seat before he even knew what he was doing. He staggered for the door, Aurora right behind him, throwing it open and jumping to the tarmac.
Across the airfield, a figure in black sunglasses reloaded a rocket launcher. Vex’s insides went cold as he watched Billy-Ray Sanguine bring it to his shoulder and fire.
Aurora brought her hands in, catching the rocket in a tunnel of air, veering it away just before it struck the plane. The rocket did a loop, returning to sender, but Sanguine was already sinking into the ground.
The rocket struck where Sanguine had just been crouched, the explosion almost masking the sound of a high-powered rifle. Aurora grunted, spun sideways, falling to one knee. Another shot, from the tower, barely missed her. Vex filled his hand with energy and returned fire, but his aim was off. A bullet whined past his cheek like an angry insect. Up there, the sniper had all the advantages. Vex grabbed Aurora, dragged her back to the plane. Frightening was there to haul her in. Another bullet found Vex’s leg, but he managed to throw himself sideways and Frightening did the rest.
The gunman opened fire on the cockpit, and Gracious and Donegan dived back, falling on to Vex and jarring his injured leg.
“What are they doing?” Wilhelm was screeching. “What are they doing?”
“Away from the door!” Saracen shouted. “Move back!”
Someone, probably Frightening, grabbed Vex and pulled him backwards. Gracious had Aurora, who was bleeding from a wound in her side. Vex glanced at the door in time to see Sanguine rise up from the ground outside and throw something in before disappearing again.
“Grenade!” Vex roared.
But Aurora was already on it. Both hands splayed and a cocoon of air shimmered around the grenade and the explosion rocked the plane. Vex fell on top of Frightening and someone fell on top of him, but his eyes were closed and he couldn’t hear and he didn’t know what the hell was going on. He smelled smoke.
He opened his eyes, waited until he could focus again. His ears were ringing. His body was dull. He could feel the tangle of limbs in which he was caught – someone’s knee was pressing into his back, an elbow was digging into his jaw – but they didn’t hurt. He couldn’t even feel the bullet in his leg.
He saw movement, and it took a moment to recognise Donegan, crawling for the cargo door at the rear of the cabin. He pushed it open, looked back to shout to the others, and a hand reached down and grabbed him. Before Vex could even sit up, Donegan was pulled from sight.
Sounds from the roof of the plane. A struggle. A cry. Someone beside him cursing. Saracen, hunting around for something. A gun. He found it, pointed it at the ceiling, waited a moment and then fired once, twice. A crash from above. Someone fell past the window next to Vex. Springheeled Jack.
The sniper was still firing. Saracen moved to the door and fired back, but the bullets were getting dangerously close. Vex got up, stepped over Wilhelm who was still screeching, and knelt by Aurora.
“I need to get up to that control tower.”
She grunted, held out an arm. He pulled her to her feet and they moved to the cargo door. He jumped out first, made sure the area was clear, and helped her down. They moved up along the body of the plane, waited until the sniper had to reload, and then stepped out. Aurora waved her hand and the wind caught Vex, swept him into the air. It was an odd feeling, and not one he relished, but Aurora’s aim was perfect, and Vex tumbled for the broken window.
The vampire Dusk saw Vex coming, abandoned the reload and flipped the rifle, swinging it like a bat as Vex dropped into the tower. The rifle stock caught him across the side and the breath rushed out of him as he sprawled to the floor. Dusk hit him again, and again. Not the most effective of entries, he had to admit, but at least he was in.
Vex rolled sideways and came up in a crouch, doing his best to ignore the pain in his side and the pain in his leg and his burning lungs. Dusk was fast, even for a vampire, and he was a graceful and skilled fighter.
Dusk came swinging and Vex crashed into him. The rifle fell and Vex’s fist jolted against the vampire’s cheekbone. It was a satisfying connection, made Dusk drop back, and still Vex came forward, bullying Dusk backwards all the way to the corner. Dusk tried to slip out, the sneaky little vampire that he was, but Vex’s left hand snaked round his head, pulling him into a clinch, while his right went to work on the face and body. In an open space, Dusk would have had the advantage, using his agility to spin and whirl and run rings round Vex. But here, trapped in the corner, this was just another street fight. And if there was one thing Vex knew, it was street fights.
He pulled Dusk’s face down into a knee, then caught him with that same knee in the chest as he tried to stand back up. Dusk’s legs gave out and his defence dropped, and Vex sent the punches raining down.
There was movement behind him and a hand clutched his shoulder and he went suddenly cold and gasped, stepped back, feeling like his life was being dragged out of him. He turned, saw a girl with short blonde hair and a frightened face and he pushed, shoved her away from him, and the moment the contact was broken he could breathe again. But his magic was gone.
Dusk got up, still shaky, bared his teeth and Vex slugged him across the jaw. It wasn’t the first time a Leech had drained his power and it wouldn’t be the last. His magic would return. In the meantime, he still had his fists.
He almost didn’t notice the wall starting to crack, but at the last moment he threw himself backwards, and Sanguine’s straight razor missed his throat by a hair’s breadth.
“Billy-Ray,” said Vex, giving him a tight smile, “it’s been a while.”
Sanguine brushed the dust from his suit jacket, regarding him through those sunglasses of his. Behind him, Dusk got to his feet slowly and the blonde girl, the Leech, joined them. Vex could tell, just by the expression on her face, that she wasn’t a fighter. The poor thing looked terrified.
“Hasn’t been long enough,” Sanguine said. “Last time I saw you, you were breaking my arm.”
“You had just tried to kill me.”
“I was pretty sure I had killed you.”
Vex pulled down his collar, showing him the old scar across the right side of his throat. “Almost,” he said. “To be honest, it wasn’t your best work. You seemed distracted that day.”
Sanguine shrugged. “I ain’t gonna lie, I had things going on. But that’s no excuse. I was hired to kill you, I should’ve killed you, that’s just the way it is. Leaving you alive was just... well, it was unprofessional, and I apologise about that. Seen in that context, you had every right to break my arm.”
“Think nothing of it,” said Vex, watching the way Dusk was eyeing him.
“We can kill him now,” the vampire said. “Sabine drained his magic.
”
Sanguine shook his head. “Afraid not. We’ve done what we came here to do.”
Dusk’s lip curled. “We came here to kill them.”
“We came here to slow them down,” Sanguine corrected. “If we killed any as a result, that’d be a bonus. Hey, you really want to get into a fist fight with Dexter Vex, be my guest. But Tanith already has the spear and we’re about to leave for London, and they’re in no fit state to come after us. Are you, Dexter?”
“I suppose we aren’t,” Vex replied. “But if you think you’re going to get your hands on the sword, you can forget it. All it’ll take is one phone call and the English Sanctuary will shut up so tight you’ll never get inside.”
“Do you honestly think we hadn’t thought of that?” Sanguine asked, smiling. “Tanith has contingency plan after contingency plan. We’ll get that sword, don’t you fret.”
“And the dagger?” Vex asked. “Do you really think you’re going to get another shot at that? What about the bow? We’ve got that safely hidden away. Tanith can have all the contingency plans in the world, but the fact of the matter is she wanted four weapons, and the only one she’s got is the spear.”
Sanguine’s smile widened, but he didn’t answer. He just shrugged, put one hand on Dusk’s shoulder and another on Sabine’s, then stepped back into the crumbling wall with them and disappeared.
Vex frowned. He crossed to the broken window, looked out at the smoking plane. Gracious and Frightening were seeing to Aurora’s injury while Saracen and Donegan kept watch. Wilhelm poked his head out of the plane, clearly terrified. Saracen looked up, gave him a shrug. The enemy had retreated. Vex looked back at the cracked wall, his concern deepening. Something was wrong.
He limped down the steps on to the tarmac. Donegan frowned at him. “You’ve been shot.”
“I know,” said Vex. “I’m trying to be brave, but I think I might start crying. How’s Aurora?”