Galefire II : Holy Avengers

by Kenny Soward

  In a message from her old friend and training partner, Alex Rios, there was only one sentence. A passage from Deuteronomy. A code between their own little fraternity of five or six `Vengers going back to their initiation into Eminence Command Central on their final testing mission.

  The Lord will never be willing to forgive them; His wrath and zeal will burn against them.

  Bess closed her eyes. That day. A planned hunt. The `Vengers each given a knife and a hand gun with one clip of nine rounds. Dropped into the Georgia Hunting Grounds and left to fend for themselves. The grounds were a massive twenty square mile enclosure where captured fade rippers were put to good use as training fodder for new recruits.

  A popular quarry with the ECC were the nakkis. The organization was still learning about them on the day Bess and her team ran the OP. Aside from their physical prowess, nakkis weren’t supposed to be too cunning. The creatures were found primarily along the East Coast. Partially aquatic, they preyed on small crews of fisherman and sometimes wiped out big ships. The U.S. military had documented accounts of their attacks on naval vessels dating back to the First World War, but they'd never captured or studied the beasts until the ECC gained a significant status bump from the Navy in 1998.

  With the whirring of helicopter noise in their ears, Bess’s crew landed on the edge of the property and dispersed as planned, fanning out, their night vision goggles bathing their surroundings in strange, greenish light.

  Even then, ten years ago, Bess had the fire of the Lord inside her. While these creatures were only as smart as your average dog, Bess knew they originated from a greater evil, from Hell itself, summoned by some misbegotten sinner or accidentally slipped through a transient gateway.

  The team’s target was a farmstead in the center of the grounds where the nakkis had, presumably, taken up residence. It only seemed natural in the lightly wooded area. A house and barn. A few small sheds here and there. A large pond off to the side that figured to attract the beasts due to their tendency to prefer bodies of water.

  Bess knew the layout by heart.

  They were a tactical team of seven. All of them capable. Two operatives, Lisa and Jim, had advanced field medical skills. Two others, Bill and Carrie, lugged equipment for specialized situations. Ropes, rams, and things of that nature. Bess, Alex Rios, and another lead operative named Kristanna Bell, traveled light and fast. They were the killers, the raiders, the ones with the weapons skills to bring down the beasts, working as a three-pronged unit with Alex as the overall commander.

  They jogged to the outskirts of the farmstead, not expecting any resistance. Bess ran in a half trance, scanning ahead with her godsight just in case. Back then, her strange power of vision was budding inside her. Not as strong as it was today, so she didn't see the danger until it was too late.

  Lisa and Jim, the team medics, passed a grove of trees edged by a large willow. Two nakkis tore snarling through the greenery, sending foliage flying everywhere. Bess heard Lisa’s startled grunt and shots ring off before there was another crash of bodies. It happened so quick, Bess barely caught the action out of the corner of her eye.

  She and Alex turned in that direction and converged, guns drawn and ready.

  Bess spotted two figures struggling on the ground. The one beneath, buried in the tall grass, was Jim. His hands were up, grappling with something monstrous above him. Even in the night’s shadow, Bess picked out his quick maneuvering to keep the claws at bay, twisting and deflecting with his forearms with expert grace.

  Bess tracked the creature’s wild movements. At least two-hundred and fifty pounds of gnarly sinew and muscle beneath silvery scales, a squat neck and a head full of snapping teeth.

  In an instant, Bess picked a spot and fired.

  The nakki jerked, shoulder shot, but went at Jim again.

  Bess fired a second time, putting a bullet higher on the thing’s neck. The beast snapped back, reeled as if to run, but stumbled and crashed into the canopy of willow branches. Before checking on Jim, Bess pivoted in Alex's direction to see if he needed any help. The man stood over the limp body of the other nakki, chest heaving and fist clutching his knife. He’d taken the thing out barehanded to save ammo, but it didn’t look as if Lisa had fared so well.

  The willowy medic had crawled over to a tree and leaned against the trunk, her mouth mumbling prayers as she assessed her wounds. Bess sprinted over and knelt.

  “…and in the Lord’s name I pray, amen.”

  “Amen,” Bess responded, but her eyes widened when she saw Lisa’s leg. Her thigh mauled to her hip, leather suit and muscle shredded. Blood pooled in the wound and overflowed, but Bess didn’t think it was pumping out.

  Jim came up, not looking too great himself, and knelt hard, knocking Bess aside.

  “What you got for me, lady?”

  “Nothing broken," Lisa said, wincing. "Deep tissue damage. Possible nick of the femoral artery.”

  Jim had been picking through the wound as Lisa explained. “I’ll agree with that assessment. Yeah, let’s get this secured.”

  Jim worked, pulling out a rubber cord and tying it as high as it would go around Lisa’s leg. He found a small pouch of something, ripped open the top, and powdered the area with gray dust.

  “Careful with the coagulant.”

  “Got it.” Jim shifted the powder with his fingers. “It’s like shoring up a sand castle when I was a kid. You ever done that?”

  “Yes,” Lisa replied, “and that’s not a weird comparison at all.”

  As Jim bound everything up, Bess stepped away with Alex and Kristanna.

  Alex had already decided their next course of action. “We leave Lisa. She’ll be fine.”

  Kristanna nodded. “Agreed.”

  “Agreed.” Bess looked toward the farmstead. “Should only be ten targets left. Strange these two ventured this far. Should be huddled in one spot.”

  “We have to be ready for anything," Alex said. "Makes sense they'd stick their noses up to get a whiff of their surroundings. Especially if their den is growing.”

  "How can that be?"

  "We know little about the nakkis, Bess. They could be breeding."

  “Like rats,” Kristanna said with a flat expression. "Well, fishy rats."

  They shared a look, Alex’s face blanched of color in the weird green light. Bess nodded that she understood.

  Kristanna, the tall woman’s blond ponytail riding high on her head and tied in three places, pointed toward the farmstead. “I recommend we circle in this direction, approach from the westerly hill so we can get a better view.”

  Kristanna was as young as Bess but carried the wisdom of years with her. She referred to herself as an old soul. Loved to understand the lay of the land, memorizing detailed information such as elevation levels and landmarks, anything that might give them the slightest edge.

  Bess felt Alex’s frown in the darkness. The big man didn’t like deviating from the most direct possible approach, but even he saw the need to go ahead with caution given they’d just been jumped. She saw him nod. “We’re not going to beat any records, but we have to see it as another challenge the Lord has placed in front of us. And without challenges we can’t grow closer to Him.”

  The competitive side of Bess wanted those record times, wanted a perfectly executed game plan, but Alex was right. Very few teams came out of their final test devoid of battle scars.

  With the pressure of trying to work fast off their shoulders, Bess’s heart slowed. She took a deep breath and helped Jim get Lisa situated beneath the cover of a tree. They left the nakki bodies alone and used broken, weeping willow branches to shield Lisa as much as possible from any creeps.

  “Let’s go, people.”

  Lisa grabbed Bess’s arm as she started to stand. The medic’s eyes shined with determination, as if she could pass that energy along to Bess. “Go with the Lord.”

  Bess flashed her an uncertain smile. “Keep quiet. We’ll still be able to hear you over the comm. W
e’ll be close.”

  And then the remaining team of six were off again, moving west to circle the farmstead through the wooded Georgia landscape. Bess’s legs churned against the growing elevation, loving the blood pounding through her veins. Kristanna found them a spot at the top of the hill where they crept to the edge and peered at the grounds. Everything looked like the satellite images. The pond was around the side of the barn, situated further east of the property. But Bess noticed a well in the front yard they hadn’t caught before.

  Alex said, “I’m not catching any movement. I’d say their nest is in the barn loft or the pond, although we should clear the farmhouse first.”

  They formed up and stalked down the hill, staying low in the tall grass, heads swiveling.

  Bess, Bill, and Carrie cleared the house. They were the shortest of the bunch, trained in close combat and the best at working in tight spaces. The cellar was cramped, dank, and musty, steps creaking beneath Bess’s feet. It revealed nothing but old and rotted things, furniture and newspaper and shelves of oil and beer cans. No nakkis. Not even the rank scent of them in the air.

  Once cleared, they exited the house and traversed a long gravel path to the barn which stood ominous and in ill repair, parts of the ceiling collapsed. As good a place as any for nakkis to roost. This time, Alex and Kristanna entered while the rest of them took up positions outside. Bess faced the farmstead while the others scanned other directions, keeping their eyes on the two smaller buildings and the surrounding woods.

  Jim broke radio silence. “How’s it going out there, Lisa?”

  There was a faint trace of static before the wounded medic responded. “Good, so far. A little groggy from loss of blood but you secured my leg well. Thanks.”

  Jim’s voice crackled through. “That’s what friends are for.”

  “Knock off the chatter,” Alex said. “The first floor is clear. Checking the loft now.”

  “Sounds like the beginnings of a country love story,” Jim said.

  “I said–” There was a crack, a muffled cry, and then a crash from inside.

  Bess put her hand to her ear, heart thudding in her chest. “Alex?”

  Another moment passed, and Kristanna’s voice came over the comm. “We’re okay. It was just a weak ladder. Rotted. Alex fell, but he’s fine.”

  Carrie choked out a funny noise, and Bess reeled. Her eyes locked on the farm house, slid to the well and the things crawling from it. Nakkis, pulling themselves out to land wet and squirming in the yard. Others already out and racing toward them on all fours like scale-skinned apes. Nakkis weren't built for sprinting across open ground, but they still made good time.

  “Defensive positions everyone,” Bess said, angry with herself for not focusing her godsight to catch the threat sooner. “Got a dozen, maybe more, incoming.” Bess ran to an overturned piece of farm equipment, some monstrous, rust-bladed thing used to carve up fields.

  Bill and Carrie joined her, firing at the onrushing beasts, their shots becoming more hurried as the nakkis drew nearer.

  Bess fired steady at the nearest creatures. One fell. Another staggered to the right but kept loping. A third dropped, and then Bess was out of rounds. She pulled her knife and backpedaled to the barn wall. Alex and Kristanna rushed through the doors.

  Alex assessed the situation, shrugged off his small pack, and checked his pistol. “Remember, `Vengers. When all seems lost and your enemies flow over you like a river of woe, The Lord will never be willing to forgive them; His wrath and zeal will burn against them.”

  Alex strode forward and emptied his gun before the nakkis fell upon them in a malodorous fury.

  Time blurred. Firearms cracked.

  Alex allowed one of the nakkis to lunge by, tackling it as it rolled on the gravel. He threw a combination at it; left hook, knife, left hook, knife, as the thing howled beneath him.

  Bess saw another nakki skirting around their flank to get at Kristanna and moved to cut it off, lunging with her blade even as it sought to snatch at her team leader’s foot. Bess’s knife sunk four inches into its scaly shoulder, and she nearly lost her weapon as the creature jerked free. Before it could recover, she dove in, flailing, driving the beast back as it favored its wounded side.

  Lisa’s whispered prayers came through her ear piece, calming Bess’s heart, lending speed and power to her motions.

  But she’d pushed out too far, allowing a nakki to slide in behind her. She’d never fend off two, not—

  Fury overtook her.

  Bess screamed and drove forward, slicing fervently at the first nakki’s thick skull, sprays of ichor zipping away in her strange, greenish night vision. And then she slammed into the thing with her left shoulder, driving her legs, pumping her knife into its guts again and again until they toppled over and Bess rolled free.

  “Praise be,” she mumbled, rising.

  Goggles knocked askew, but her mind as clear as blessed holy water, Bess met the other nakki with equal wrath. Her Lord’s wrath. She caught its swiping arm against her ribs, trapped it (eating the pain as its razor nails cut through leather and bit deep) and drove her blade into its neck. She was rewarded with a spray of blood and a gurgling sigh as the thing collapsed at her feet.

  The rest was a sped up dream. Rolling around in the dirt and gravel, hand cramped from squeezing her gore-covered knife. The smell of copper and fish. She killed at least two more before the chaos ended, the Holy Avengers standing in the yard with a dozen beasts slain or dying at their feet.

  Lisa still whispered prayers.

  She and Alex grinned at one another across the space. His chest heaved, shoulders flexed, covered in their enemy’s blood. A connection formed between them, a holy bond sealed by the cauterizing wrath of their Lord.

  They’d become Holy Avengers that night.

  Waking up in bed with Alex the next day had been awkward. The way he looked at her like he wanted more. Like he wanted to be with her. Bess couldn’t take it. Couldn’t commit to a relationship. Life as an ECC commando was no fairytale. And while his mother and father’s marriage had seemed that way at times, it had only ended in death and broken hearts. Bess thought it would be easier if she focused on her relationship with the Lord and hoped He could forgive her transgressions, her wants and needs. It annoyed her. She was supposed to be a cold, efficient killer. A leader. Not a woman.

  Alex sensed her trepidation that morning and, after a brief and heated discussion, had backed off and gave her the space she needed. Alex was the first and last Holy Avenger she ever slept with, and everything between them from that day forward remained professional.

  So, for Alex to send her a message now with those words…

  It was important, and it meant the enemy had them surrounded. It meant Bess needed to be very, very careful.

  Chapter 24

  Gruff left Lonnie in the recreation room and went back to keep tabs on Bess. Lonnie was moving much better now, the stiffness starting to work out of his limbs. The trek through Gruff’s magnificent arboretum had helped. The fresh air, the magnificence of the place, lifted Lonnie’s spirits. And now he had to find Selix, get those websites from her, and pass the info along to Bess.

  Any clues to assess what was happening would be great. Maybe contact their people on the outside, Ginger and Rube. Who knew how those two were doing? Were they even alive?

  And would the gang be willing to help Bess? She, them?

  It was doubtful. Not so much because the Eighth Streeters weren't willing, but because Bess had erected emotional walls too hard to reach. Emotions buried deep. He couldn’t blame her. Bess was a lone `Venger trapped with what she considered a hostile environment. They were a coven of evil, or something like that. Lonnie laughed thinking of the gang that way now.

  But hadn’t he thought like that when his head was on ice?

  Okay, so Bess was entitled to her opinion, but if she knew Lonnie’s feelings a week ago, she'd understand.

  That wasn’t something he wanted to
explain to her. At least not presently. Another long story they didn’t have time for, or that Bess cared to hear. They had an easy truce and that’s what mattered.

  The gang was nowhere to be found. Just the remnants of their messy dinner. Lonnie scanned the room, recognized the passage to the sleeping chambers and another passage across from that. The one they'd not investigated yet. He gave it a long look, wondering if Elsa and Ingrid would have wandered that way, but opted to check the most familiar and obvious place first.

  He moved carefully along the corridor back to his room, listening to the rushing water overhead, which demanded a certain fragility of movement. Like walking inside an egg shell instead of on one. Head swiveling, he peeked into rooms to see if any gang mates were there.

  At the intersection to Bess’s room, he spied something laying on the floor. Selix’s over-sized KENTUCKY T-shirt abandoned in a heap at the threshold.

  Lonnie grinned, picked up the shirt, and approached the coverlet barring entrance to their room.

  He placed his hand on the ratty cloth and hesitated. Someone hummed behind the curtain. An unmistakable voice. A soft whiskey voice, like a classic country singer who’d lived through a world of shit and could only express the damning sense of loss in heartbreaking notes. Lonnie lowered his head, eyes wet and streaking his face as the note lifted, wavered, and dropped again.

  Lonnie pulled aside the cover and entered. He wanted to grin and say something wise, something stupid, something to break the tension and make them both laugh. But his voice caught in his throat. He swallowed.

  Selix stood by the far wall with her back to him, busy. She wore no clothing, naked and exposed only to him, the slim line of her body white in the soft candle glow. Raised on her toes, legs tensing and taut, she lit three wax stumps lined up on a small mud shelf.

  Lowering herself, she turned. Lifted the match to her lips and sang, killing the flame.

  Lonnie's words failed.

  Selix smiled and climbed on the bed, hands and knees, back arched and hair thrown over her eyes. She wasn’t the curviest of women—okay, she was painfully without curves—but she made them when she wanted.