Hell Rig

by J. E. Gurley

  He waited as the first zombies approached slowly. Some hung back, remaining close to their shadows. He reached into his pocket and grasped Digger Man’s gris-gris in his hand. Its surprising warmth gave him a small measure of comfort. He wrapped the leather strip around his wrist and palmed it.

  He recognized Sid Easton as the closest zombie, fetid and covered in slime and blood. He ignored Jeff and went straight for Lisa. With less reluctance than he knew he should have felt for the living corpse of someone he knew, Jeff fired two nails into the back of Easton’s head. They did not penetrate far enough to stop him but caught Easton’s limited attention. When Easton turned to face him, Jeff moved in with the hatchet and hacked at his neck. Black foul blood spurted from arteries that no longer flowed, no longer pumped blood from heart to brain. The stench was almost overpowering, the stink of an abattoir floor. It took him three blows to sever Easton’s head, becoming drenched in Easton’s blood. The head fell to the stone with a sickening thud and rolled away. Easton’s body crumpled to the stone and convulsed sickeningly for a moment before growing still.

  Jeff did not have time to savor his victory or to catch his breath. More zombies emerged from the shadows. He recognized Ed Harris’ blackened shriveled body and felt a moment of grief for his old boss, but that quickly passed. Ed was dead, murdered by Sims and Damballah Wedo. Now, he was nothing but a flesh shell under the Loa’s sadistic control.

  Zombies entered the shadow of one column and rematerialized across the platform from a second column, using them as doorways. It was difficult to keep track of them. He realized this was how Sims and Waters had moved around the platform and hidden from searches. Jeff attacked with the hatchet, severing limbs and heads, but their numbers soon overpowered him. Even armless or with limbs dangling by scraps of rotting flesh, they continued to advance. He retreated.

  Using the nail gun from a distance did not stop them. The nails did not have enough power to penetrate deeply enough to cause damage. Frustrated, he moved in closer, careful to watch behind him. He managed to kill two more zombies by dancing in and firing nails into their foreheads before quickly dancing away out of reach. The last time he was not quick enough. A zombie surprised him, one he did not recognize, probably a crewman from the ship. Emerging from the shadows only a few steps away, it came at him from behind, wrapped its arms around him and began to squeeze him. Jeff dropped the nail gun. Pain shot through him as his ribs bent near the breaking point. He grew dizzy as the air was forced from his lungs. He was near the point of blacking out.

  A surge of power climbed his arm, spilling from the gris-gris he had forgotten in his hand. With renewed vigor, he managed to pull the screwdriver from his belt. He smiled as a burst of white-hot energy exploded from his hand and entered the screwdriver. He jabbed the screwdriver into the zombie’s side. Flames exploded as it entered the zombie’s dead flesh, forcing it to loosen its hold on him. Jeff broke free as it beat futilely with one hand at the flames quickly enveloping its entire body. After a moment or two it exploded, covering Jeff with foul pieces of flesh and congealed blood. Encouraged by his success, he attacked a second zombie with the hatchet until it lay writhing on the ground, headless.

  His brief capture had allowed two more zombies to close in on Lisa and she was completely unaware of the danger. Jeff tried to infuse the hatchet with energy as he had the screwdriver, but did not know how. In desperation, he threw the hatchet Davy Crockett-style and split the skull of one attacking zombie, the ship’s captain. The captain fell and did not move. That left Ed Harris. Seeing his old boss, he decided to try something different.

  “Ed!” he yelled.

  The zombie ignored him and continued to move toward Lisa. Jeff tried again.

  “Ed Harris of Re-Berth!”

  This time the zombie that had once been his friend stopped and turned to stare at him with dead white unseeing eyes.

  “That’s right, Ed. You remember me, don’t you? Jeff Towns. I’m your friend.”

  Ed swayed where he stood as if fighting to break Damballah Wedo’s grip. Moans escaped his lips.

  “Fight it, Ed,” Jeff urged. “Don’t let him make you hurt Lisa.”

  Ed grunted and threw back his head and began to wail. Jeff moved closer with the screwdriver, ready to use it if Ed forced him. As if sensing his approach, Ed stopped moaning and looked at Jeff. He saw the screwdriver in Jeff’s hand. As Jeff watched, Zombie Ed did a surprising thing. He bent over, lowering his head as if offering it to Jeff.

  “Thank you, Ed. I’m so sorry.” Jeff drew back the screwdriver and, to his surprise, it burst into white flames that did not burn his hands. Using both hands, he drove it into the back of Ed’s skull. Ed dropped to the ground, utterly consumed by white flames.

  Jeff stood and looked around. He was covered in foul zombie blood and pieces of flesh hacked from their bodies, his ribs ached and his arms felt like stone weights attached to his shoulders, but all the zombies were dead, or dead again. As he watched, their remains slowly changed into black pools of shadow that soaked into the stone like blood into a sponge.

  He looked at Lisa with awe. She now radiated silver light that burst from within. She no longer danced but simply floated in the air a few inches above the ground, slowly spinning. As he watched, her inner fire grew brighter, blinding him until he was forced to turn his face away from her. He looked at her out of the corner of his eyes. She was now a human-shaped pyre, blazing silver above the quasi platform. She shed waves of heat and light that flooded Damballah Wedo’s domain. The nearest shadows disappeared completely as her light consumed them. Her cleansing radiance stripped the shadows from the columns, leaving only rough hewn stone encircled by arcane markings engraved in its surface. They looked primordial, as ancient as time. Soon, they begin to shimmer as Lisa’s purifying fire baked the stone.

  Damballah Wedo would not allow her to destroy his abode or interfere with his plans. With a shudder that slammed Jeff to the ground, the Father of Loas suddenly erupted from the stone floor in an ebony geyser. His roar swayed the columns and the stones of the floor quaked. Jeff covered his ears against the sound but it penetrated through the bones and flesh of his skull, driving like a dagger into his mind. Images, morbid and dark; thoughts, cruel and inhuman; sensations, sadistic and chilling tore through his skull like shrapnel, slicing and splicing tender memories until they no longer resembled the original. He felt pleasure at others’ pain, bathed in their blood and laughed at their pitiful screams. His mind burned and churned with images that repelled and enticed him—Lisa, naked and bleeding, writhing beneath him as he ravaged her, Ed Harris as his hand bore the black flames that consumed him, his laughter as he hoisted the Digger Man’s tortured body with the crane. He fought against these foreign implants, the things he knew to be wrong in spite of their overpowering sense of reality.

  “No!” he screamed as he pounded his fists against the stone until they were bloody, relishing the pain that shot up his arms and pierced the fog surrounding his mind.

  He felt a physical yank that resonated throughout his mind as well as his body, as if he had been jerked through time and space. The images faded. Disoriented, he opened his eyes.

  Writhing crimson tendrils bound him spread eagle against a wall of congealed blood. The floor beneath him undulated as well, as if part of some larger being or creature. Out of the corner of his eye in the oddly distorted red glow, he saw a second figure beside him, naked, crucified as well. The figure was covered in clotted blood, but through gaps he saw the bald head and long blond mustache of Eric Tolson. They were both captives of Damballah Wedo.

  Chapter Thirty

  Power flowed through Lisa’s body in undulating waves. She was consumed by it. She fought the urge to release it or to let it overpower her. It fought her attempts at control, a living elemental bound by no laws written or conceived by humans. As her control grew stronger, she shed the excess, letting it sweep over the platform, probing the shadows. Jeff was no longer there but her con
cern was fleeting. He was alive. She reached out her mind and touched him. He was captive but she could not free him, not yet.

  Through veils of black flame, her opponent glared at her.

  “You surprise me.” Damballah Wedo’s voice boomed. “You are foolish to challenge me.”

  She smiled. Anything that kept him off balance could only be to her advantage. “Thank you, but I am no fool.”

  “We shall see. Even fool’s courage will do no good in the end.”

  “We shall see,” Lisa agreed, mocking him.

  He held his hand high. An ebony sword as long as her body materialized, created from the midnight ooze of his body. Black flames danced on its surface like burning shadows. Cold fear raced through her. Sheer bravado would not defend her against a weapon such as his. She remembered the medallion around her neck and the voice from when she was a child.

  “Erzulie Danto, aid me,” she prayed.

  Immediately, she felt raw power coursing through her body and knew her plea had been answered. The warrior Loa who had whispered to her as a child had come to her aid. Her body trembled; it grew larger, almost as large as Damballah Wedo. In her right hand, she held a silver sword with a clear crystal nestled inside a cage formed by the sword’s pommel from which a brilliant light sprouted, pulsing power. Armor so light it felt a part of her, adorned her body. A silver cuirass engraved with arcane signs molded perfectly to protect her chest. Greaves rose up her legs from sandals to mid thigh. Armor covered her arms and gloves so supple they felt like silk covered her hands.

  Her head was bare except for a small tiara woven into her hair. A single jewel, pure white, pulsed with the same power as the jewel in her sword. She could feel Erzulie Danto’s presence inside her, not overpowering but resting just below the surface, guiding her movements. All the knowledge, the weaponry skill the warrior Loa possessed was hers to command. She struck the stones with her sword and the platform trembled beneath her.

  Damballah Wedo’s voice held a trace of sorrow as he spoke. “I see my mate Erzulie Danto has come to your aid. That is sad. I had promised her a place beside me in my new kingdom.”

  Lisa laughed and felt her mentor laughing inside her. “She decided otherwise long before your generous offer. She remains true to her faith.”

  “You will die now. You have witnessed my power, yet you dare to challenge me. Your soul is no longer unblemished. You have tarnished it with the sin of false pride. I will feed on your soul and chain your benefactress in my deepest hell for my pleasures.”

  His voice rose in volume as he spoke until the stones around him shook with his rage. He struck the stones with his sword and Lisa tumbled from the sky amid the roar of thunder. She quickly regained her feet, brushed herself off and faced him. They circled warily as each searched for an opening. Lisa relied entirely on Erzulie Danto’s fighting expertise. She knew nothing of swordplay and battle.

  Damballah Wedo stepped forward and slashed at her with his long, black blade. It moved so fast it became a sheet of black, blurred by movement. She parried but felt the power of his blow reverberate through her arm. Strength was on his side. To defeat him, she knew she would have to rely on surprise and speed.

  She feinted to the right and swooped in low on his left side, jabbing but he knocked aside her blade. She barely managed to duck a backhanded sweep at her head. She struck again quickly and sliced into his upper thigh. She watched with dismay as the deep gash she inflicted quickly filled with his body’s black ooze. Clearly light wounds would not wear him down. His power to recuperate was too great.

  He turned unexpectedly and slammed the flat of his sword across her back. The force of the blow sent her rolling breathless across the stone floor. She managed to hold onto her sword and rested on one knee until she caught her breath and the dizziness passed. A deep bruise grew just beneath the leather that covered her back, promising pain.

  He mumbled arcane words as he held his sword pointed at her. She realized his intention almost too late. She raced toward a stone column as a flaming sheet of black vitriol erupted from his sword and flew at her. She held her sword in front of her as she moved. Silver fire poured from it and held the vitriol at bay long enough for her to reach shelter. The vitriol landed with a hiss as stone dissolved like ice in front of her. Laughter followed in its wake.

  “Give up,” he called to her. “Forget this folly and embrace your fate.”

  “I’ll embrace you with the point of my sword,” she challenged from behind the towering stone column.

  She gathered her strength, took a deep breath and walked from behind her shelter to face him, sword held before her in both hands. The crystal in its hilt gleamed pure and bright. Its promising warmth penetrated her bones, strengthening her resolve. She cast aside her fears. There was a reason she had been brought to this place, just as she had reminded Jeff. Her fate had been decided when she was a child and Erzulie Danto had come and whispered to her. If her fate was to do battle with Damballah Wedo, so be it. She knew some power besides Erzulie Danto sought to aid her. She opened her mind and could feel the presence of others.

  “Do not fear,” Erzulie Danto said. It was a voice she remembered, strangely calming in its assuredness. It filled her with the joy she had felt as a child. “Others lend their power to you from a distance. Together, we shall prevail.”

  Lisa did not know if the latter was a premonition or a hope, but a surge of power coursed through her veins, burning in its intensity. It was enough to sustain her. She faced Damballah Wedo and again their swords met, spewing ebony flames and silver fire across the platform. She absorbed the power of his blows with her knees and elbows, refusing to bend. A sideways blow almost caught her off guard but she twisted out of its deadly arc, feeling the hot wind of it passing across her back. She quickly stepped inside the wake of the blow and delivered a two-handed blow to Damballah Wedo’s midsection. This time, the time lag between blow and the repair of the wound was longer. Traces of silver gleamed around the edges of the wound for several seconds before the black substance of his body flowed into the gash.

  He stepped back and stared at her with hatred in his fiery red eyes. Hot anger burned along his brow. She saw something else, also—surprise. His next slash deliberately struck the ground beside her, sending up a shower of stone chips. They struck her exposed skin like tiny red-hot barbs, embedding in her flesh, burning like acid. She brushed away the ones she could reach and endured the pain of those she could not. As she had suspected, the blow was merely a feint to force her to retreat. He raised one massive hand, curled it into a fist and shot a bolt of power at her. She deflected most of the arcane energy with her sword, but enough force struck to send her reeling. Fighting near blindness, she struggled to remain on her feet and defend herself against Damballah Wedo’s onslaught of follow up blows.

  Her strength was waning. Her muscles ached and her vision swam as she parried one blow; then dodged the next. She searched for a column to hide behind but the fight had taken her beyond them. If she could not escape soon, she would die.

  She ran into a maze of pallets, garbage and refuse they had collected for disposal. They seemed but shadows of the original but her will forced them to hold substance in this place. Damballah Wedo’s sword slammed into the ground between pallets, blocking her escape. His next blow sent a shower of garbage and metal scrap over her. She held out her hand for protection and a bolt of energy deflected them. She used her newfound power to shove a pallet into Damballah Wedo’s path. He walked through it as if it was not there. Damballah Wedo’s realm consisted only of shadows of reality, deadly to her but mere shadows to him. This explained the ease with which he could manipulate objects such as the crane. His was a world of shadows, separate and free from the world of light.

  The platform lurched simultaneously with one of the massive Loa’s blows. Lisa fell heavily, her sword skidding several feet away. Damballah Wedo stood over her, staring down mercilessly.

  “You have lost,” he said as he r
aised his sword. His body shifted, stretched from that of a man to the form of a serpent with a man’s head. This is how she had always seen him depicted, but as benevolent father, not rampaging murderer. He rose above her on black coils. Snakes grew from his sword, their heads hissing at her in anticipation of feeding.

  She cringed, awaiting her fate.

  * * * *

  Struggling did nothing. Jeff’s bonds held him tight against the living material of the wall. He called out to Tolson.

  “Eric, can you hear me?”

  The figure moved slightly. Through folds of blood and tentacles a voice emerged, weak but hopeful.

  “Jeff? Is that you?”

  “Yes.”

  “Where am I?” he asked.

  “I think your body is still in the emergency escape capsule where we put you, but your mind is trapped here with me, held captive.”

  “Where?”

  “I’m not sure but I think inside one of Damballah Wedo’s shadows.”

  “Wedo?” Tolson grunted struggling to remember. “And Waters?”

  “Waters is dead. He’s been dead probably since just after he attacked you with the steel blade. Sims killed him. It’s been Sims all along. The thing, Damballah Wedo, took possession of him during Katrina. Sims killed the Digger Man and all the others since then. Waters’ only crime was in attacking you out of fear. God knows what images Sims placed in his head to provoke him.”

  Tolson looked at Jeff with rage in his eyes. Finally, he said, “Yeah, I remember. Not Waters, Sims. Son of a bitch.”

  Jeff could only agree. “Yeah, son of a bitch.”

  “Jeff, I can’t move. Can you?”

  Jeff struggled one more time against his living bonds but they only clung tighter. “No.”

  “Where’s Lisa?”

  Jeff cursed silently. “Fighting Damballah Wedo.”

  “Alone?”

  Jeff thought of her floating in the air, glowing like quicksilver. “No, I think she has help.”