Marked: An Urban Fantasy Novel (The Thrice Cursed Mage Book 2)

by J. A. Cipriano

  As I shoved the second one into my mouth, the ashen skin on my demonic arm began to darken, and my blurry vision settled just a touch. The scientist had been right. I guess I really needed to eat something to replenish my magic. And, even though time was of the essence, I decided to take a ten-minute lunch break.

  Chapter 25

  After I finished stuffing my face with Ding Dongs and Nutterbutters, I felt surprisingly better, and what’s more, my arm was back to its normal shade of demonic black. I’ll be honest, I never thought I’d think that previous sentence either. Still, the arm had grown on me, quite literally, and I was glad it was happy again. It meant I could blow stuff up. I liked blowing stuff up.

  So what did I do next? I opened the door to the weird lab with the vats and blasted it five or six times until all that remained was a pile of smoking rubble that smelled sort of like skunk. Then I ate another bag of Doritos and washed it down with a can of rodent-dissolving Mountain Dew because I had an ironclad stomach. Oohrah!

  “Alright, I’m ready to kick some ass and play some Xbox,” I said, discarding the can and Doritos bag and making my way across the snack bar to the only other door. It pushed open easily and no one shot me, so bonus points.

  I’d sort of expected the room to be empty since I hadn’t exactly been quiet when reducing the lab to a charred husk. If anyone had been in there, surely they’d have heard the commotion and called security, or at least looked.

  Turns out I was wrong. A massive black guy in a Jurassic Park T-shirt that could have been used for a boat sail sat at a desk with one hand on a keyboard and his other on a mouse. The monitor in front of him took up nearly the entire twenty-foot wall and was broken into a multitude of normal-sized screens containing images of what sort of looked like StarCraft with zombies. It was a little weird, but judging by the music I could hear emanating from his headphones, I was pretty sure he hadn’t heard me over the cry of his Rush album. Yeah, that’s right, he was listening to bad eighties rock. For shame. For double shame.

  “Hello?” I said, poking the guy in the back of the head with the M16. On screen a pack of zombies took down a werewolf, while the rest of the werewolf’s pack ran down a ramp over a shark tank.

  He spun around, saw the gun, and nearly shit himself. At least it certainly smelled like he did, but for all I knew that was a normal thing. Look, I’m not against gamers, fat or otherwise, but this guy struck me as a little off. Especially because he reminded me of the fat guy from Jurassic Park who had tried to steal the dinosaur DNA and wound up getting eaten by the poison spitting Dilophosaurus, though that might have been partially because of his shirt.

  “Please don’t kill me!” he blubbered, one hand reaching up and pulling off his headphones. He clutched them to his chest like they might save him from a bullet. Maybe they would, but I sort of doubted it.

  “What’s all this?” I asked, ignoring his blubbering as tears began to stream down his cheeks. I gestured to the screens. “Are you controlling the zombies from here?”

  “Y-yes,” the guy stammered. “They have implants in their heads that let me move them around. From here, controlling them is just like playing an RTS game. It’s why I was hired. I was this close to beating Boxer in 2011.” He put his forefinger and thumb really close together.

  “I have no idea what that means,” I said, shrugging as a smirk crossed my lips. “What other surprises are there?” I gestured at the rest of the conspicuously empty room.

  “I don’t know,” the guy cried, dropping his eyes to the floor. “I just do the zombies.” He looked up, and his eyes were filled with hope. “Who you really want is Chaz. He does the automated defenses.” The guy looked over to an empty setup similar to his. The hope in his eyes died. “Wait, where’s Chaz? He was just here a minute ago.”

  On screen a werewolf ripped a zombie in half and tossed it into the shark tank. The undead thrashed, spraying frothy crimson water every which way until a huge tiger shark snatched the struggling zombie and pulled it down into the water.

  “He probably left since I let most of the monsters in the cages out.” I pointed to another screen which showed a battle royal breaking out in the halls. The word “warning” was flashing across the screen in front of the station. In fact, it was on all the screens except the ones in front of this guy. “They’re probably on their way here right now.”

  His eyes roamed over the screens before returning to his own. He let out an annoyed explosion of breath. “I knew I shouldn’t have shut off the automatic notifications, but they always pop up at the most inconvenient times…” He looked like he was going to elaborate, but thought better of it. “Are you going to kill me?”

  “I’m thinking about it,” I said because I was. If I did, maybe the zombies would just go dormant.

  “I’ll make you a better deal,” he said, reaching over and snagging what looked like a ham sandwich off his desk and taking a huge bite.

  “I’m listening,” I replied, watching him mechanically chew. A guy deserved a last meal.

  “If you don’t kill me, I’ll help you get out of here.” He swallowed the bite and looked up at me like an expectant puppy. “Deal?”

  “How do you know I want to get out of here?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.

  “Seriously, bro?” the guy said, giving me a look that suggested he wasn’t worried about me killing him anymore. It was weird because I was pretty sure my facial expression hadn’t changed. “I know you broke into this place to get Pierce.” He pointed to a screen where a guy dressed in a really expensive suit and surrounded by guards with M16s was heading toward an airplane hangar. “It’s why I’m here tonight. I’ll use my considerable skills to help you reach him before he flies off into the wild blue yonder.”

  “And I believe you’ll do this why? If you help me, there’s exactly zero chance Pierce won’t kill you.” I stared at the screen, and my heart practically leapt into my throat when I realized Ricky was among the guards. She was wearing what looked like a straitjacket and bound in chains that glinted silver in the moonlight.

  “He can’t do that if he’s dead.” The guy gestured around the room. “He left me here, alone, to deal with you. There’s not even one guard.” All in all, it wasn’t a bad point. Being left to die had a way of making people hate you.

  “If you betray me, I will come back and kill you,” I said, making my “I’m totally capable of tearing out your larynx with my teeth” face at him.

  “I have no doubt of that, Mr. Brennan.” He tapped a manila folder buried under a plethora of Monster cans. “It’s in the file.”

  “What else is in the file?” I asked, reaching out for it. Thus far the only thing I knew about my past had been limited to a couple spotty visions. If these people had information on me, it was a hell of a lot more than I had.

  “Psych evaluations on you since you got your arm.” He made like he was going to point at my demonic flesh but stopped himself. “It’s why Pierce is leaving with the girl. That file says you will kill him and anyone else who gets in your way.” He scooted his chair back until it touched the desk. “Look how out of your way I am.” He smiled shakily.

  I glanced from the file to him and back again. “So it has nothing about my past?”

  “As far as my information goes, you didn’t exist before yesterday.” He swallowed like he was afraid his words would get him shot or tortured. Maybe they would have, but judging by the screens, I didn’t have time to spend dicking with him, especially since he was probably right. He was some flunky. He probably didn’t know anything about me because if he did, I was pretty sure he’d tell me.

  “Give me your radio. If anything stupid happens, I want you to stop it, or I’m going to come back.” I shoved the M16’s barrel against his forehead and pressed it into the flesh to leave a mark. “Do you understand?”

  He started to nod, stopped himself, and swallowed hard. “Yes, Mr. Brennan.” He swallowed again. “The radios are over there. I’ll put it on channel six.
No one usually goes past channel three so you’ll be okay. It also has a vibrating option to get your attention. I’ll use it if you don’t respond and something bad is coming.”

  “Sounds like a plan.” I turned and grabbed the radio. It was a pretty standard walkie talkie with an earpiece. I clipped it to my ear and pocketed the rest of the device. I held out my hand to the fat black man. “Hi, I’m Mac Brennan. Pleased to meet you.”

  He stared at my hand for a moment before reaching out and taking it in a rather feeble, oily grip. “Todd. Todd Barnes.”

  “Well, Todd. How do I get to that bridge?” I wiped my hand on my jeans before pointing at the screen with the zombies and the werewolves. “I need to talk to the one with the red hair, so don’t kill him, okay?”

  “Is this a no maiming thing, or is that okay?” he asked, spinning around in his chair so he was facing the keyboard. He took quick stock of the situation and his hands flew over the keys. For a moment it had looked like the werewolves might win, but like magic, the zombies started taking them down. It was pretty crazy how quickly the tables had turned.

  “Maim away,” I replied as the zombies quickly regained the upper hand and forced the werewolves back along the platform so it seemed like the werewolves were walking the plank. Hell, maybe that had been the idea. “Nice job by the way.”

  “I have uber micro,” he replied, already reaching for his headphones. I wasn’t sure how I felt about him, but I decided to play this one by ear. If he could help me, great. If not, well, there weren’t that many zombies left, and I was a pretty good shot.

  “One more thing,” I said, glancing at him as I approached the exit, determined to find Pierce and kill him in a brutal, needlessly violent way. “Don’t let them fly away with Ricky. Or else.”

  “The female werewolf? I’ll do my best,” he said, looking over and smiling at me. “Thanks for not killing me.”

  “The night’s still young.” I pushed through the door, hoping the nerd in the cheese-covered sweatpants could keep them from escaping with Ricky. I gave it fifty, fifty odds.

  Chapter 26

  Thanks to Todd directing me through the complex, I arrived on the surface a few minutes later without having to fight even a single guard or monster. I was sort of glad too because I hadn’t had to climb up the elevator shaft outside the tech center. I mean, I’d have done it, but I was glad to have avoided it. The likelihood Murphy would smack me like a bitch in that situation was too high to fathom.

  I emerged on the opposite side of the shark tank and smiled. All the werewolves appeared to have been incapacitated. A horde of zombies stood in the midst of the fallen werewolves milling about like grotesque, decaying guards. Evidently, Todd was very good at his job. It made me wonder how I’d been able to overcome the zombies, except I hadn’t really. They’d mostly just wanted Ricky, and if I hadn’t released the werewolves, I’d have never made it out of the wine cellar.

  When none of the zombies tried to gobble me whole, I sprinted across the platform, trying my best to avoid stepping in the slimy puddles of ichor. Bobby was sitting against one of the glass walls of the bridge over the platform, trying to stuff his guts back into his abdomen. It was sort of funny because there was a big zombie poking him in the side of the head over and over. As I approached, it bared its teeth at me.

  “I’ll take it from here,” I said, and the zombie’s face went slack and empty.

  The creature turned on its heel and walked off toward the other werewolves, none of whom was dead. They were only unconscious or maimed, but they’d all lived, and knowing their healing powers, after visiting a Home Town Buffet, they’d be as good as new. How nice of Todd.

  “Hello,” I called, squatting down next to Bobby so the two of us were eye to eye. His left arm had been gnawed nearly to the bone and his right eye was drifting to the side in a way that made me think he’d broken some important muscles in his face. “Remember me? I’m the guy you sucker punched and left in a room full of monsters with a bomb strapped to his chest.”

  “How are you here?” Bobby slurred, his words mashing together in a way that made me think concussion. “You’re supposed to be locked away.”

  “Focus.” I smacked him upside the head. “Why did you do it, Bobby?”

  “Because you’re a Cursed.” He nodded at me like it was answer enough. “If you’re here with Ricky, it means she owes you something, or she likes you.” He stretched out the word like, but I wasn’t sure if that was because his brain was half bashed in or because he was being cute. I poked him in his gaping abdomen wound anyway. Screw the benefit of the doubt. He screamed, and the sound made me feel bad in a “why am I enjoying causing him pain” sort of way so I stopped before I did more. I pushed it out of my mind and followed my own advice. I focused on Bobby.

  “What’s that got to do with anything?” I asked, wondering why I was bothering with Bobby at all. I ought to be racing toward Pierce, but instead I was here with this jackass. It wasn’t even a revenge thing, really. If it had been that, I’d have just shot him in the face and moved on. No, it was something I couldn’t put into words. I needed to know why he’d done it.

  “Ricky never had the best taste in guys.” His gnawed hand flopped in my general direction like a dying fish. “You’re not a good guy. I know that better than anyone. You’re all sorts of fucked in the head. You were bad for her even before you hooked up with Lucifer.”

  “I’m fucked in the head?” I cried filled with the sudden urge to kick his teeth into his brain. “You strapped a bomb to my chest.”

  “You snuck into my room when I was a little kid to stab me to death, you stupid fuck.” He shook his head, and it wobbled like one of those bobblehead dolls. “If you think I’d let my sister anywhere near you, you’re on drugs.” He leaned his head back against the glass. It made a none to pleasant squishing sound.

  “Right now, your sister is being brought to a plane by Pierce Ambrose. He’ll take her away and do horrible things to her.” I grabbed him by his stupid red hair and dragged him to his feet. It was harder to do than I expected since even emaciated, I was pretty sure he weighed more than me. “I’m the only one who can save her.”

  “So why are you here then, Mac?” He smiled at me, revealing a mouthful of crimson teeth. “You should be going after her, but you’re not. You’re messing with me. Why? If you’re such a hero, why are you here?”

  “You know, I have no idea.” I shrugged. “I guess, I wanted to know why you did it.”

  “It’s because you want me to approve of you.” He smiled at me in that same douchebag way he had when he was a kid making one of my friends eat a worm.

  “Nah, I’m far past wanting your approval, Bobby. Far past that.” I shook my head and tried to push down the urge to tear him limb from limb. No matter his intentions, he’d cost me valuable time. “I just wanted to know why you did it. I can sort of respect the big brother protection racket, but if you’d had another reason, well, I might not be so lenient.”

  Then because I had no soul, I pushed him backward over the railing. He fell toward the shark tank, and just as his legs were about to go over the railing, I grabbed hold of his ankles. His sudden stop nearly jerked my arms from their socket, but I held on anyway. “But if you ever do something like that again, you’ll be sleeping with the fishes. Capiche?”

  He made a half-strangled squawk, I didn’t understand, but that could have been because he was too busy watching his blood hit the water. Huge, dark shapes swarmed through the tank beneath him, and I wondered idly how far sharks could leap out of the water. Hopefully, not far enough to eat him. If they could, I’d sort of feel bad since I didn’t want to kill him. Ricky would probably frown on me doing so, especially since she’d braved Pierce to try to save him. I let out a sigh. It was Bobby’s lucky day because even without being here, his sister was making me a better person. But not that much better.

  I turned toward the big, placid zombie who had been poking Bobby and gestured for it to
come over. “Can you hold him here for about twenty minutes? Maybe if he’s upside down for a while the blood will rush to his brain, and he’ll get smarter.”

  The zombie gave me a thumb’s up and grabbed the werewolf’s ankle. I let go, and Bobby hung there upside down over the shark tank with a look of hatred and fear on his face.

  “You can’t leave me like this, Mac,” he cried, staring into the zombie’s impassive, rotting face.

  “Don’t worry. I know this guy.” I patted the zombie’s shoulder. “He won’t let you die.” Then I threw up the devil horns and walked down the bridge toward where the runway was supposed to be. “Probably.”

  Chapter 27

  I sprinted across the park, barely cognizant of the zombies taking down supernatural whoziwhatsits all around me while Todd gave me directions. I was starting to like the guy more and more with each passing moment, and not just because a zombie had body-checked a guard about to shoot me from the bushes as I approached the airport gate. That was just a bonus.

  Zombies milled across the runway beyond the heavy wrought iron separating the private air strip from the rest of the park. The zombies, along with a bunch of flying bat creatures who were very interested in the plane’s engines, seemed to have kept the Gulfstream G650 from leaving. Even still, I could tell it wouldn’t be grounded for long.

  A whole slew of guards raced down the runway in a hummer outfitted with a Browning M5. They were busily mowing down the mindless, shambling horde, while two sets of three guards on foot headed toward the wings of the Gulfstream.

  “The zombies aren’t being super effective,” I muttered into the radio as the gate in front of me unlocked with a flash of green lights. I pushed through it, glad I had my own super hacker at the helm, even if his zombies seemed relatively useless.

  “About that… There’s some sort of disrupter on the plane that extends around it about fifty feet in every direction. I’m not sure if they know I’m using the zombies to thwart them or if it’s just a normal defense mechanism they’ve turned on as part of some other system, but it’s eliminating my ability to control them.” Todd said something else, but I didn’t catch it because the guards blasted their flamethrowers in the general direction of the engines.