A Shot in the Dark

by K. A. Stewart

  Axel laughed, and part of me cringed to hear myself laughing at the Yeti. I was really going to have to talk to Axel about using someone else’s voice. “You and I might have all the time in the world, but our friends here do not. Perhaps you should pick just one great sin to harp on?” At some point, I realized, Axel’s language had changed. He’d become all stuffy or something. More formal. I started to understand that, whatever this was, it wasn’t just a regular old chat between buddies.

  Furry Yeti’s head tossed in agitation while Human Yeti’s image remained calm, cool, and collected. “You should not be here. You violate your own laws.”

  The blond demon snorted again, and I swear I saw the real Yeti flinch. “There is no law that says I cannot try to collect a soul, especially one I’ve had a claim on for years. Check the ledgers, you’ll see my mark.”

  I gave Axel a “what the fuck?” look, but he refused to take his eyes off the other demon.

  “Yes . . . the Architect’s little pet.” The Yeti was not happy. The man in the gray suit frowned, jaw clenching, and overlaid on that image, the big hairball’s muzzle wrinkled, his claws digging furrows into the forest floor. “A mark unclaimed is a mark unclaimed. Your presence here exerts undue influence—”

  “YOU DARE?!” That hurt, and out of the corner of my eye I caught Cam clamping his hands down over his own ears too. Damn, Axel had some lungs on him. “You DARE question ME?”

  And it wasn’t just us. I swear, the Yeti about wet himself. He looked just like Duke making a puddle on the floor. It’s kinda hard to be scared of something that looks like a spanked puppy. “The laws . . .”

  “I know the laws! Did I not write them? Shall we really start tallying up just who has violated what?” Axel moved down to the very last step, as far as he could go without touching the ground. “Do you really want that eye focused on you?”

  I’ve heard of the power of personality, but I don’t think that I truly appreciated what that meant until I watched Axel back the Yeti down with nothing more than a stern glare and a few cold words. Even without his gaze fixed on me, part of me wanted to go slinking back inside too, and I’d taken two steps before I caught myself.

  “You are sworn to be neutral.” Even cringing and all but melting under Axel’s gaze, the Yeti had enough spine to try to resist. “Remove yourself.”

  “YOU WILL NOT COMMAND ME!” Leaves fell from the trees; rocks clattered down the hillside behind us. Axel’s voice reverberated for what seemed like forever. “MY WILL IS LAW!”

  I don’t know what he did. He flung his hand out, a casual gesture, and there was a flash of light, brighter than the sun. When I finished blinking the after images out of my eyes, the Yeti was gone. After a few moments Axel’s shoulders relaxed, and he dropped his hand to his side. “Well. That’s that, then.” He shook his head, frowning at something, and finally said, “Well, shit.”

  There wasn’t enough time in the world to formulate all the questions I wanted to ask. Geez, where would I even start? Architect? Laws? What? I finally settled for, “What the hell is going on, Axel?”

  He looked at me like he’d just remembered my existence, and shook his head, the sun glinting off his piercings. His injuries were gone, I noticed in a distracted way. Too tough to keep him down for long, apparently. “There’s no time, not today. He won’t stay gone forever; he’s grown too strong for that. You need to listen to me, because I can only say these things once, and then . . . I most likely won’t be back for a while.”

  When he put it that way . . . I just nodded.

  “The creatures out there aren’t gone. They’re his. I don’t have the power to command them. Without him here to direct them, they’ll be feral, rabid. He’s starved them, so they’ll be very hungry.” Axel spoke quickly, an urgency in his (my) voice that I hadn’t heard before. “Your Yeti will be back as soon as he can marshal his strength. You need to go now, or you won’t leave here alive. I can’t protect you anymore.”

  So many things to ask, “Why?” being only the first in a very long list. And there was no time.

  “I feel weird saying this, but . . . be careful, okay?” He’d helped, okay? For his own reasons, yes, but he’d helped. A little. Don’t judge me.

  Axel paused a moment, then smiled, and I could almost believe it was sincere. “Thanks.” A whiff of sulfur and he was gone. I knew he wouldn’t be back. Not until this was over.

  I shook my head when Cameron tried to speak. “No time. Grab your shit. We’re outta here.”

  Somehow, now that Axel was gone, I felt like a real little worm on a big damn hook.

  15

  “I think there better be time, Jess.” I’d fully expected the guys to jump when I said jump, but instead they faced me in a semicircle, Marty’s dark brows drawn together in the deepest frown I’d ever seen on him. “Who the hell was that? Don’t give us shit about him being a coworker. I think that ship has sailed.”

  Oh yeah. I’d been hoping they’d miss that part. “I don’t know his name. I call him Axel. He’s a demon.”

  “You knew that. You knew that, and you let him around our families. Our kids.”

  “He’s . . .” Harmless? Not dangerous? Like Marty had said, I thought that ship had sailed. “Can we do this later? We need to get the hell out of here.”

  “Why are we leaving at all? Isn’t his magic protecting us?” Oscar pointed at Cameron, and the priest shook his head.

  “It isn’t magic, it’s faith. God has chosen us to—”

  “Look! We seriously don’t have time for a lesson in semantics!” Even Duke flinched when I raised my voice. “First, Cam, you can call it whatever the hell you want, but my wife can do all that you just did, and she doesn’t even believe in your god. In fact, I’m pretty sure your god and her goddess aren’t even on speaking terms. So chew on that before you start spouting off about being the ‘chosen of God.’

  “Second! The wards here are blown. The consecration is gone, and Cam can’t even keep Axel out, so we need to go and we need to go now. If anyone wants to further discuss this, submit it to the committee and I will have an answer for you in six to eight weeks. Provided that we live! Now move your asses!”

  I didn’t have to tell them twice. Well, technically, yeah, I did, but there wasn’t a third time. We grabbed everything that remotely resembled a weapon, shrugged into our backpacks, and were out the door in five minutes.

  I gotta say, I was impressed with every single person there. I mean, we were voluntarily leaving a semi-secured position, to take a stroll through woods teeming with pseudozombies. I guess bravery is really just the ability to shout louder than the little voice in your head that screams, “Run, stupid!”

  Marty, ankle wrapped so he could walk on it, tied Duke’s lead around his waist to keep his hands free, and we walked in tight formation, keeping Zane in the middle. I’ll give the kid credit. As sick as he was getting, he kept up, marching out of the clearing in grim silence. I hoped he’d make it at least to the truck, ’cause there was no way in hell we’d be able to carry him and fight at the same time.

  Cole took point with what few bullets he had left. Being right-handed, I stayed on the right side, scanning the trees as we walked. Marty and Duke had our left flank, and Cam stumbled along at the rear (more to keep an eye on me than anything, I suspected). Oscar was armed with the one and only hatchet we had, and he and Will walked on either side of Zane.

  Without Duke, we’d have been toast in the first rush.

  Barely ten yards into the trees, they dropped down on us from the branches above, and the only reason we had any warning was Duke’s raging bellow. In fact, the big dog yanked Marty right off his feet, lunging at the nearest threat.

  The creature on that side—the handless female, I realized, which meant she’d fled the roof last night instead of being slaughtered with the rest of her kind—hit the ground on all fours and immediately sprang back into the brush, vanishing from sight. Duke, roaring like a grizzly bear, did his damned
est to drag Marty with him, chasing after it.

  And while we were all looking that way, three more hit us from the other side. Even as I turned belatedly, cussing at myself for falling for the ruse, one of them leaped at Will and I knew I couldn’t get there in time. I shouldn’t have doubted my buddy. For all that he pretends to be a bumbling doofus, his mind is sharp and his reflexes were even better. The creature skewered itself on Will’s fireplace poker, then went flying into a tree as Will gave a huge heave and flung it off. It wasn’t a killing wound, though, and the thing went scurrying off into the trees again before we could go after it.

  Cole did manage to take out one with a clean shot to the head, but the other was into us too fast, and he couldn’t risk the shot. I saw Oscar brace himself for the oncoming charge, and knew he just didn’t have the skill to take the thing down in close quarters. “Oscar! Down!”

  I couldn’t use my sword without hitting someone friendly, so I just lowered my head and met the thing in a full-out body block. I felt its ribs crack against my shoulder, the decaying bones fracturing wetly. I also felt it sink its long fingernails into my many layers of T-shirts and hang on for the ride. Did not count on that.

  We went down in a heap of raking nails and clacking teeth as the thing tried to take a bite out of me and only got my pack. There was more shouting, dimly heard through my damaged ears, but with my face pressed into the muddy grass, I wasn’t exactly in the best position to see what was happening.

  The minion wasn’t heavy by any means, and I got myself up to my hands and knees at least by the time it reversed itself to make a lunge at my neck. I jerked my head back and smashed its face, feeling the sticky goo creep down the back of my neck.

  “Don’t move!” It was Cole’s voice, and I froze immediately. The heavy metal clang that followed reverberated in my teeth. The creature fell off my back, and the gunshot after made my head throb. I raised my head to find my little brother standing over me, gun in one hand and one of the CO2 tanks in the other. Let’s hear it for improvisational weapons.

  Unfortunately, two dead wasn’t even going to stop them. In and out they darted, testing our flanks, moving too fast for us to even get a count. It didn’t help that, aside from the handless female, it was hard as hell to tell the nasty things apart. They moved in unison like the first time, coordinating to snap and harry us on all sides.

  We couldn’t move like this. Marty was fighting Duke more than anything, struggling to keep the dog from barreling off into the trees, and it was impossible for us to hold a tight defensive formation while in motion. Face it, we weren’t trained soldiers.

  “Cam, if you know any tricks that won’t kill you, this might be the time to use them.”

  He said something that I couldn’t quite hear, not looking at him as I was, but it sounded affirmative. The next time the beasties made a try for us, he raised one hand in the air, opening his fist as he shouted, “Prima luce!”

  Light burst all around us, lighting up the underbrush like high noon. There was a crash in the trees as the things retreated in a panic, and then all was silence. Cameron sank slowly to the ground, panting. Fresh blood stained the bandage on his head.

  I did a quick glance around, but no one else seemed to be hurt. A few bumps and bruises maybe, and Zane of course was looking more like death warmed over the farther we went, but we were upright. Mostly.

  And what the hell was up with the Yeti’s pets? I thought they were supposed to be animalistic, wild, but they were obviously thinking, planning. They weren’t supposed to be able to do that, without the Yeti to guide them. Which meant . . . they had another leader?

  The handless female had left the roof last night, rather than face Cole and me. She’d left the others to fight and die, but she’d retreated. She was smarter. Cunning. Their tactics were just like Marty’d said, like a pack of wolves. A pack could bring down something the size of a moose, just by constantly darting in and out and wearing it to exhaustion. I didn’t think my little group stood any better chance in the condition we were in.

  Cole popped his clip, shaking his head at his dwindling ammo. When he caught me looking, he frowned. “We can’t keep fighting these things hand to hand, and I’ve got half a clip left.”

  “Yeah, well, I don’t think paintball guns are going to take them down. If anyone has a better idea, let’s hear it.” He was right, though. In close quarters, we were more hazardous to ourselves than anything, and if we spread out too much, we’d be easier targets. And if the Yeti came back and entered the fray, we were all screwed.

  Marty fished his possibly illegal slingshot out of his pack and fastened it to his arm. “If we can find some rocks, I can try this out.” No one really had any inclination to go rock hunting off the trail, however.

  “Will it shoot paintballs?”

  Marty shrugged. “For whatever good it would do, yeah, I suppose. Not gonna hurt much, but damn they’ll be pretty while they eat our faces off.”

  My gaze happened to fall on Cameron, still crumpled on the ground. “Cam . . . ? How much juice you have left?”

  He raised his eyes, and I instantly regretted asking. His face was gray, drawn, and his pupils were dilated oddly. He wasn’t doing well. “I can’t do the light again. Only works once, and it didn’t hurt them, just scared them. It’s a novice’s trick . . .”

  He was done in. Drained, nothing left. I could see that. And I asked anyway. “Could you put a blessing on something? Just a little?” Defensive magic took less than the big attack spells. Maybe, it would be enough less.

  He took a long time to answer, so long that I wondered if he could even hear me. Wasn’t I supposed to be the deaf one? Finally, he nodded. “Nothing big, like a patch of ground. But something small, yes. I think so.”

  “Guys, get your markers out. Have Cam magic the paintballs.” They all looked at me like I was crazy. “Come on, we don’t have much time!”

  It took a few minutes to get the guns assembled, and another few for Cameron to gather up the willpower to actually cast the blessing. At the last second, Marty stuck a pocketful of change in the pile too, and we wound up with holy quarters and nickels. Hey, if he thought he could shoot those with a slingshot, more power to him.

  I could smell the cloves on the air as Cameron passed his hands over the colorful jumble of ammunition, but the scent was so faint. The priest was just plain out of mojo, and I honestly wasn’t sure if he’d make it down the trail. If we couldn’t carry Zane, we damn sure couldn’t carry Zane and Cam.

  I gave Zane my marker, hoping he could at least fire off a few shots with his good arm, and slipped my now free left hand under Cameron’s arms as he stood up. “All right, folks, hobble like your lives depend on it.”

  It took a bit for the nasties to rally and come at us again. It was possible that they were afraid of Cam’s light, but I didn’t believe that. Handless was figuring out a better way to kill us. We got about fifteen minutes of peace and a good chunk of distance behind us without incident.

  Then the howls started up, the voices all around, echoes of other people’s lives.

  “I’m a little teapot!”

  “Pow, right in the kisser!”

  “Hey, does this smell funny to you?” The tiny bit of protection from Cameron’s blessed water still held, but that didn’t make it any less nerve-racking, marching through this gauntlet of macabre commercial slogans and sitcom theme songs.

  It did occur to me, sometime during my stint as Cameron’s crutch, that we were leading the creatures down into a populated area. Sure, Ericson’s store wasn’t exactly a teeming metropolis, but there were innocents there. Somewhere along the way, we’d have to make a stand, get rid of as many of them as possible, or subject everyone there to the seductive lure of the stolen voices.

  At the next dark patch in the trail, a place where the trees overhung enough to block out a good portion of the late-morning sun, we found out why they’d taken so long to attack us again. The bitch and her pack had set up
an ambush for us. I was seriously going to have to talk to Axel about his definition of “feral,” ’cause these things were doing too much thinking for my comfort level.

  The voices cut off abruptly at the same instant that Cameron threw a shoulder into my ribs, flattening me. A split second later, an enormous dead tree crashed down across the path, sending wickedly sharp pine needles flying like shrapnel. While the trunk missed us, we were both caught in the skeletal branches, and I couldn’t even struggle free before something dark and reeking landed on top of us. Only luck put my sword across my own chest, enough that I could use it to fend off my new best friend.

  This one had tangled with something before. Something I rather suspected was Duke. There were gashes across what was left of its face, gray, decayed tendons visible through its hole-riddled cheeks as it gnashed its rotting teeth inches from my nose. Its breath—if you could even call it that—reeked of busted guts and bile. Only the thought that I’d choke to death kept me from vomiting, and even then it was a near miss.

  And the worst part (yes, that other stuff wasn’t even the worst) was that I could almost see the human it had been in that ravaged visage. There was a strong jaw there, under the gore, high cheekbones. Once, this had been someone’s son, or father. Husband. Brother.

  Of course, at this exact moment, it was trying to eat me, so my sympathetic horror had to take a backseat to survival.

  For all that it had very little body mass, and its bones were made of balsa wood, the damn thing was strong! We fought over my katana’s blade, both of us gouging ourselves on the entangling tree branches. It wasn’t smart enough to let go of the sword to claw at my eyes, thank God and Buddha both, but the sharp side of the blade was slowly working its way through the filthy palms, and soon it would cut the hands right in half, leaving the thing free to collapse down on top of me.

  Whatever I was lying on was wriggling, and I remembered Cameron about the same time his hand shot past my face, delicate gold chain dangling between his fingers. Whatever he had, he slapped it against the minion’s forehead with force, and a breath later it reeled back, abandoning its attack with an earsplitting shriek. Or, it would be if my hearing wasn’t already fried. Beneath me, Cam cried out in pain and writhed as he tried to protect his own ears.