by Rick Heinz
“We won’t be killing Vryce, man. The whole job is a bust. They fucking routed us during the daytime. I probably led them back when I killed those troops on my nightly walk.” Mike took off his coat and shook it out. He inspected his wounds.
“Oh. Okay, then. So, to California?” Akira said.
Mike checked one of his fangs as he let the silence hang for a while. He was not sure what he would do. Heading west did not seem like a bad idea. Go underground? Start a new life? Nah, who am I kidding? It’s not going to work out that way. “You know, this is where you are supposed to provide some sort of pep talk in a moment of doubt, right?”
“Pep talks are your thing. I kill people. If we’re done here, then we’re done. If you want to be an idiot and wallow in self-pity because you think everyone getting caught is your fault, I’m not going to stand in your way,” Akira said.
Mike patted around in his pockets. He pulled out a pack of waterlogged and useless smokes. Disgusted with their smell of feces and moldy water, he threw them down. “Well, we smell like shit, there are only two of us, we have an entire city to search, and we’ve lost our inside man and the entire team. We are pretty much fucked.” Mike walked down the tunnel, splashing as he went.
“Wait, where you going? Are we outta here?” Akira picked up the pace following behind Mike. “Like, California is a long-ass walk. We should steal a car.”
“We aren’t going to California. There is no way I could walk away from this as long as I’m still”—he beat his chest with his fist and smiled—“sort of alive.”
“So how the hell are we going to kill this guy or his generals?”
“We aren’t. You want a pep talk? The old mission is scrapped, at least the song everyone wanted us to dance to. It was kind of bullshit anyway. We were being set up as cannon fodder by Bollard and O’Neil. Which I suppose is fair considering we’re all the new recruits anyway. Well, at least I am. So here is how I look at it.” Mike was quiet for a bit as he looked for a way out.
Spotting a ladder twenty yards down the tunnel, Mike gestured to Akira to follow and climbed up into the city. Large skyways weaved between buildings like a spider web. The Twin Cities were known for their skyways like Chicago was known for the “L.” Mike pulled himself out and smiled at a runner who tried to ignore him. He reached in and helped Akira out before kicking the sewer lid back in place. With his strength, it was like kicking a pebble. I’m getting better at this. Good.
“The way I see it, Akira, all of these creatures and forces are trying to preserve this city regardless of their goal, just like in Chicago. When I saw their crews killing demons in an alley, I learned these guys are way better at it than we were. They have better toys, and their citizens aren’t going to die from either demons or cancer from what I see.” He paused, taking in the sights of the city. “We need to disrupt the setting. I saw them loading our friends into cop cars. Chances are they just arrested them for interrogation. So let’s start a motherfucking riot and set this city ablaze. That should stretch their troops thin and allow us to get close and see if we can’t rescue anybody who was captured.”
“Light the city on fire and cause chaos? Could work. If nothing else, it will draw them to us rather than making us hunt them down. Where should we start?”
“First, we get some smokes, food, and bikes. Then we will start on the outside and work our way in.” Mike pointed up to the white skyscraper of Walsh Tower. The massive floating island still hovered above the building, connected to ghostly iron chains that led to the green walls surrounding the city. Brighter now than when they had arrived. Did they refuel those? He noticed pulses of energy flowing up the building to the island, then along the chains. “Heh, it’s going to be the incredible climbing bad guy syndrome,” Mike said.
“Yeah, what’s it with that? Why don’t they just have a nice apartment on some main street near a café? Why always the top floor of the tallest building? Oh, wait, compensation. All right. Food, smokes, and bikes. See, Mikey, told you pep talks were your thing.” Akira smiled and stalked down the street. Mike shook his head. He felt better with her at his side.
It took them about an hour to find something to feed on. Streets were either abandoned or flooded with people creating their stockpiles of supplies. To most, what was happening was unbelievable, and they ignored what they could by bunking down, hoping that it was worse for someone else. Still, in times like this, people committed a lot of crimes against others. Mike and Akira were fortunate enough to do at least one good deed by locating muggers to feast on. Smokes were an easy acquisition, but bikes were not in their forecast. They had to settle for stealing a delivery van parked while the driver was away. As they drove, Mike assured Akira the poor fellow had car insurance. They agreed that insurance companies would have to update their policies to include vampire-related damages.
They drove around for a while before Mike found a rundown area of town. Akira kept asking “Are we there yet?” Mike told her they were looking for the city’s poor. He was not expecting it to take so long. Over the years, the Unification had spent a significant amount of money on the gentrification of this city. The neighborhood might as well have been considered a middle-class area in other parts of the country. Mike parked the van on the side of the busiest road and got out, lighting up a smoke and taking in the night air as he waited.
“So what’s the plan? Why we waiting?” Akira asked.
“Need fire,” Mike replied.
“You have a lighter, man.”
“Not that kind. Just wait. They will come through soon enough.”
“The magic cigarette trick?” Akira asked.
“The kind where you step outside of a restaurant for a smoke and by the time you come back, your food is on the table? Works for anything, actually.” Mike flicked his smoke and ground it out with his boot as the sound of sirens echoed from down the street.
“Be ready. Our fire has arrived,” Mike said. He stepped into the middle of the street as the police SUV came around the corner. It was speeding on its way to some crisis. Mike assumed it was going to where the demons were, and that was exactly what he was looking for.
The vehicle tried to swerve and get out of his way, but Mike used his supernatural speed to dash in front of it. As the driver slammed on the brakes, Mike raised his fists high and brought them down on its front. The siren died in a sickly wail as the front of the SUV crumpled and imploded from the impact. Mike pushed it down so far that the axle snapped and the right tire spun off into another parked car. Sparks showered the road from its belly as it ground to a halt, pushing Mike back ten paces.
The two officers inside the vehicle wasted no time. The officer on the passenger side rushed out of the vehicle with great speed and leveled a shotgun at Mike. As the driver kicked open his crumpled door, it became clear they had been given the gift of demon blood.
Despite the vehicle’s armor, Mike had managed to crush it like an aluminum can. Akira appeared out of thin air using her oversized mantis pincers to slice off the hands of the officer with the shotgun. Before he could realize the pain, Akira had already removed his head. The officers may have been blooded, but they were still human and could be killed.
Mike grabbed the driver and raised him overhead, slamming him into the ground and jamming a knee into his chest. While the cop gasped for air, Mike leaned down and snarled at him, baring his fangs. “Talk and you’ll live. Got it, chief?” Mike ripped off the cop’s pistol holster and threw it to the side. Then he ripped the badge from his body armor. “You aren’t an officer to protect and serve. You’re a soldier in a war. Let’s not lie to each other.” Mike did not care that there was a small crowd of people poking their heads out of stores. They would probably call the police, which is exactly what he wanted.
“Bite me,” the man coughed.
Mike shrugged. “Okay.” He latched on to his shoulder, biting as deep as he could. His blood tasted sweet and full of life, more vibrant than the meal he had earlier. It took
dedication for him to pull away and wipe the blood off his mouth. He wanted to keep drinking from this person, yet it still felt off to him. Like Chinese and Mexican food had a love child.
“Now, unless you want to be eaten, tell me where you were headed. Where are the demons? We are here to help you, even if you don’t realize it.” He lifted the officer off the ground and pushed him into the broken car. “Ever imagine what it would be like to be eaten by a lion?”
“Jesus, man! For Christ’s sake, we are just doing our job! There are reports of activity in that housing complex right up the street, on Elm. I didn’t know you were one of us,” he said with wide eyes darting around frantically.
“What did you do with the criminals you took earlier this morning at the motel in St. Paul?” Mike asked as he picked him up and spun his body before landing it on the hood. Mike wanted to keep him disoriented.
He spit up blood after the impact knocked loose a tooth. “Same as we do with everyone who is a freak like you. We deliver them to the boss, Captain Slade. Seriously, man. Just let me go. I don’t know jack shit about any of this. I only got the blood a few nights ago, and the mission briefings right after that.”
“Oh, I’m letting you go. Tell Captain Slade that I’m bringing a horde of demons to Walsh Tower later tonight. Your operation is busted, and I’m going to show the people of this city what you guys are really up to. Now get the fuck out of here before I name you dessert.” Mike shoved the cop away, and he ran off through a small crowd of people who were recording and watching.
Akira followed Mike as they took off in a light jog to Elm Street. “Hey, try not to be so lethal, man,” Mike said.
“I don’t have any choice. I either kill them or I do nothing,” Akira said. Something in the sound of her voice told Mike she wasn’t being mean about it. It was as if something in her demanded those absolutes. “I don’t really have a middle ground.” She shrugged.
“Well, then wait for my signal to do something. Unless I’m dying. Then kill everyone. Let me be the target. Let them come at me. They will ignore a skinny lass like yourself,” Mike said. “This crowd is probably lost. They won’t follow us or start a riot with us. Still, we need the demon. Maybe the next crowd will be better.”
CHAPTER 47
Roger Queneco stormed into the Library of Deus after receiving the newest field report at sunset. The sorcerers and vampires that remained were those who had chosen to side with the Society of Deus. They spent the night and entire day drinking their fill of demon blood and poring through the knowledge Primus Vryce offered them.
“May I have your attention, please?” Queneco asked, rubbing his hands together in a scheming manner. “On this day of celebration, the final night of this age, we have been gifted with another round of entertainment. Will everyone please accompany me up to the twenty-fifth-floor ballroom? It appears that Auburn, slayer of Golgoroth, is about to launch the final assault on our city.”
The request was met with indifference, as nobody wanted to leave the books. Roger made three clicking noises with his tongue and utilized his own power of the blood. Everyone would feel a compulsion to take a contrary action to what they were currently doing. They placed their books down and paid attention to the herald. Roger knew he needed to get these people out of the library and put on a showcase of the society’s strength at the same time. Any faux pas made through a compulsion or two would be overlooked by his master.
“Why, thank you. You are all too kind. Too kind. We have captured one of Auburn’s friends, the child of John C. Daneka. We are about to watch a momentous undertaking. Now, if all you cattle will please follow me,” Queneco said with a bow and a flashy grin.
Outside a redbrick apartment complex on Elm Street, three older ladies waited among parked cars, smoking long Virginia Slims. They wore oversized fur coats that complemented their sandy gray hair along with grimaces that seemed to scold and criticize everyone. Judging by the carnage on display in front of the small building, Mike and Akira had found the location. Windows were shattered inward, and large cloven footprints had melted the concrete leading up to the unit. Mike jumped out of the van and ran up to the ladies.
“Are you guys okay?” he asked.
They recoiled from him and looked to each other before one answered. “Who are you?” Mike imagined the grating sound of her voice was enough to make children run in the opposite direction.
He didn’t know how to respond at first. “Uh, the guy who is here to help. Can’t you see the commotion across the street?”
“Oh, there is no burglary. The lord has sent Beelzebub to drag the Bell family screaming and kicking to hell, where they belong. Bunch of pissant lady men. They are always out at night causing trouble,” one said. The second nodded in affirmation.
“Oh, our prayers have been answered at last. Ever since their Rottweiler attacked my poor little dog,” the third began. Mike wasn’t going to sit around and let crazy old judging ladies distract him all night.
“I told you, Betsy. God has a plan. Ever since the Antichrist was elected president, it was only a matter of time,” the first said as they watched Mike and Akira trot away. They shuffled across the street, closer to the building.
Mike cracked his knuckles and entered the front door. Sounds of snorting and heavy breathing filled the air. The tracks left behind small bits of fire leading up to the second floor. Very kind of the demon to leave a trail of hot coals.
Body parts along the floor and blood streaks on the wall meant the Bell family was not doing so well. Mike followed the tracks to the bedroom. The rest of the family splattered the room in a collected mutilation.
A demon, the spitting image of a classical devil painting from the 1950s, was sitting on the bed panting and getting its rocks off on a torn torso. It was shiny red with a goat’s bottom, massive curled horns, and cloven hooves. Mike had hoped for a plague demon or a hellhound or even another succubus.
Instead, it was some new, almost cartoonish kind, just the sort of thing he thought the ladies outside would have imagined a demon looked like. Mike buried his face in his hands.
“Listen, pal. This is how it’s going to go. I’m going to knock you unconscious, then parade you around town, showing everyone what you are. I’m not going to kill you, because you would just disappear, leaving no evidence. You follow?” Mike said as he cracked his knuckles.
The Krampus demon spun its head around and stuck out its elongated tongue. It was met with the iron piston of a vampire’s right hook. Mike had to pull his punch to make sure he didn’t kill the comical thing and cringed when its head bounced off a nightstand before hitting a radiator. A cat pounced and starting clawing its face. Mike shook his head, grabbed it by the hoof, and carried it outside.
The three ladies looked at him with such hatred and vitriol that he wasn’t sure which demon he should be parading out.
“All right, Akira, light the building on fire and pull the alarm. Let’s flood this parking lot,” Mike said. “Wait . . . scratch that. Pull the fire alarm . . . then torch the building.”
“It’s getting pretty easy to take these things out, isn’t it? I mean, who knew that bullets and modern weapons and even baseball bats worked just fine. Why was anyone ever afraid of them?” Akira said.
Mike shrugged. “The big ones we haven’t heard of yet are probably tougher. But I think we would put up a pretty solid fight. We have some pretty big guns. I mean, we aren’t sitting around loading trebuchets these days.” Mike gestured with his thumb over to the building. “Fire?”
“Right, right,” Akira said as she jogged off.
The fire alarm started its annoying high-pitched squeal that would alert all connected buildings for evacuation. Small explosions that sounded like someone was putting Christmas ornaments in microwaves came from one of the buildings. Mike spied Akira through a window, running from one microwave to the next with an armful of silverware and Jack Daniel’s.
Mike leaned back and smoked as the parking lot fil
led with grumpy people who had been disturbed from their nightly television. Never mind the fact that there was a demon sitting under Mike’s right foot. They seemed to neither notice nor care. Why should they? They didn’t know or hear when their neighbors were ripped limb from limb.
“You can’t stop what’s coming,” one of the old ladies spat at him. “The rapture is at hand.”
Mike just rolled his eyes. “Lady, I don’t have the time to put up with your drivel. How holy is it to wish harm on a neighbor?”
The second chimed in. “That is God’s will! We had nothing to do with that.”
“Oh yeah, how many prayers have you said wishing judgment upon that family?”
“That is just proof that God exists and our prayers have been answered. You’ll see!” The third pointed her bony finger at Mike.
Akira returned stealthily and appeared at Mike’s side, lighting up a smoke of her own. She took one look at the old ladies and raised an eyebrow at Mike. He just shook his head.
Together they watched the growing crowd that now included spectators from across the street. The heat from the fires washed over them, fighting back the snapping cold air.
The longer the groups watched, the closer they moved together, asking each other questions. After another building caught, the fire had become self-sustaining. The people worried. Their calls to emergency services had been placed on hold or weren’t being answered at all. The longer the fire burned, the closer they came to panic.
This process of searching and waiting for help caused a slow awakening from their slumber. It had taken them far longer than Mike expected. In past protests, the anger would spark much faster. Still, fire cleanses all, including willful ignorance.
A short girl who was still in her work uniform from Delilah’s favorite coffeehouse finally noticed the unconscious demon under the boot of one undead guy in a green coat and his shorter companion. Akira was looking into the driver’s side mirror on their van, practicing shifting her face to look like other people around her. The crowd started to focus on them rather than the burning homes. Mike flicked his cigarette to the side, lifting the demon by its neck while hopping on top of their stolen van.