by Wall, Nathan
“Hey, what were you two doing in there?” The conductor said, trying to grab Lian’s arm. “That’s not permitted. Save it for a hotel...”
“Shut up.” Lian waved her hand in the man’s face. He stumbled about and went on with his business. She marched towards the dining car. “Keep up, Austin.”
“Again, another unnecessary intervention of your powers. There’s nothing he could’ve done to us.” Austin shrugged, irritated. He kept close to Lian’s heels. “Walking fast, aren’t we?”
“You’re worried about whether or not we can trust Harold. We’re gonna find out.”
“You’ve acted strange since we failed to rescue Paula. Why?” he asked.
She lowered her head and pushed through the crowd like a fullback. “I’m just mad they were able to capture her.”
“Yeah, but we’ll save her eventually.” His misinformed words made her face twitch.
She turned and put a hand to his chest with her eyes fixed on his feet. “Look, I…” He tried to get her to look at him, but she shrugged it off. “Maybe we need some space.”
“What aren’t you telling me?”
“I’m just tired of disappointing you,” she said. “You’re not in the best state right now to deal with Harold. Let me prime the pump. Get inside his mind. Figure out what’s really going on. He’ll shut off if you come out guns blazing.”
“He’s got powers too…”
“I know.” She pushed Austin back. “I’ll handle myself.”
“Ten minutes,” he insisted.
“Fifteen.”
“Fine.”
Harold sat alone at the bar, rubbing his left arm feverishly. He pulled his sleeve up, staring at the rotting, black veins moving through the flesh. His pale hand had a slight bluish hue.
Something to take the edge off would be appropriate, he thought. Harold nodded at the bartender. “A dram of Scotch if ya wouldn’t mine, me-lady.”
She slid a child’s glass in front of him and poured a quick drop into it. He scooped it up and slammed it back. Not quite there. “How ’bout a few fingers’ worth this time. Let’s not bother with the cheap stuff either. I want something old enough to be Prime Minister.”
While the bartender turned away, he reached into his coat and pulled out a crystal. He fumbled and it landed on the floor. The barkeep poured a larger glass and he quickly downed it, nodding for another. She obliged. Harold hunched over and clasped the crystal tightly just as Lian made her way through the dining car. He took the glass and downed it again. His fingers motioned for a refill. “Keep ’em coming, lass.”
“Care to buy me something?” Lian leaned against the bar. He swirled the remaining dash of Scotch around in his glass before finishing it. “That looked good.”
“Did it now?” He smiled. The lady put two glasses in front of them. Harold gave one to Lian. “It’s the good stuff. I never have it less than thirty years old.”
“Never?” Lian raised an eyebrow, speaking with a sexy rasp. Harold adjusted in his seat. “Some things aren’t meant to linger in the bottle for long.”
“Is that so? How would you know?”
“My surrogate father taught me all I needed to know about Scotch and cigars.”
“Perhaps I should try uncorking a bit sooner.” Harold loosened his tie and undid a few buttons. A spider web of black veins surged through his skin under his shirt. He noticed Lian’s gaze linger there a little longer than normal and covered it up. “I thought you had a fella that looked after your... desires.”
“He’s presently indisposed to render those services.” She grinned, sipping from the glass. She coughed and her eyes immediately watered. “It’s… so smooth.”
“Is it?” Harold laughed. He wiggled his nose and Lian robotically finished the glass with a disgusted hack. “Paris, the city of love. It’s magnificent this time of year. The crowds are lighter after the holidays, yet the ambience and cheer of the decorations still lingers. Have you ever wanted to ice skate on the Eifel Tower?”
“Can you?” Her eyes widened. She reached behind the bar and grabbed a bottle of rum. The bartender went to stop her but Harold waved her off. Lian filled her glass to the brim. She chugged. Her speech slurred. “You’re lyin’ to me.”
“You’re just about ready, aren’t you?” Harold asked, laughing. His hand went up her leg, exploring her body. “Yes, nice and primed.”
“Hey now,” Lian said, unable to keep from laughing. “I didn’t say you… could put your hand there.”
“You didn’t say I couldn’t, either.” He laughed and so did she. He gazed at her mouth and suddenly her voice muted. “Look there, you’re now the perfect woman.”
Austin passed through the gangway into the dining car. Several standing cocktail tables and a few intimate booths littered the space between Austin and the bar. Lian sat next to Harold, wobbling around in her seat like a drowsy mummy.
“What is she doing?” Austin wondered.
Harold noticed Austin, so he pulled his hand from Lian’s inner-thigh. He snapped his fingers and Lian opened her mouth, vomiting on the floor. She fell onto all fours.
Harold laughed. “I told the lady it was good stuff.”
“Are you alright?” Austin knelt, grabbing her face.
“Get the child outa here. She’s causing a scene,” Harold grumbled, speaking into his glass. Austin grabbed Harold by the trench coat and shoved him into a booth. The half-breed laughed at Austin’s fury. “I’m trembling.”
“You should be.” Austin leaned over Harold. His nostrils flared when he breathed in. “You trying to get her sick?”
“She’s an adult playing an adult game to get adult company. She knew what she wanted.” Harold rubbed his hand in Austin’s face. “Give ’er a sniff.”
Austin bent Harold’s arm back, nearly snapping it. The crystal rolled out of Harold’s sleeve and onto the floor, bouncing off Austin’s foot and over to Lian.
“What’s this?” Lian caressed the edges, looking at the pink storm inside.
“How about we ask Horus and Athena about it?” Austin suggested.
“I wouldn’t do that, mate.” Harold wriggled out of his coat, exposing his sickly limbs. “Give the crystal back now.”
“Who’s gonna stop us?” Austin shook his head, grinning. “You?”
“In a roundabout way.” Harold nodded and his eyes sparkled with orange energy. “Yeah.” The passengers and staff in the dining car stood at attention. Their snarling gazes fixed on Austin with glazed-over eyes. Harold clapped and the passengers attacked. “I’ve a few tricks up me sleeve yet.”
Austin shoved Lian toward the exit. She put the crystal into a pocket. He elbowed the first passenger and kicked the second in the sternum, sending him backwards into the next three. The bartender broke a bottle over his head and stabbed him in the back. Austin grabbed her by the shirt and threw her over his shoulder.
Harold lunged into a step, planting his front foot firmly. His hands came together, forming a diamond. A shockwave of sound rippled through the train car, shattering glasses and windows. Austin and the others lifted off the ground. He tumbled headfirst into a booth. The crystal rolled out of Lian’s pocket during the commotion and was sucked into Harold’s palm.
“You changelings are always so small-minded and predictable.” Harold pressed his thumb into the crystal. It roared with pink light and hovered in place. He spoke over the rift. “But you hero types are even worse. Do you even know what you’re fighting for?”
The passengers piled onto Austin, punching and kicking him. His face turned into a snarling snout, and his eyes grew fierce. Gray hairs sprouted from his body as his skin ruptured from his enormous muscles. Austin broke free and jumped at Harold.
Harold swiped with his hands. A sound wave tore the sides off the train car and threw passengers outside. The force of the wind from the speeding train ripped anything not bolted down from the dining car and onto the tracks. Austin dug into the floor, holding Lian. Harold pul
led himself over the bar. The Assassins emerged from the pink light and the rift closed behind them.
“I wanted subtle,” Set yelled, looking over his shoulder at Harold.
“My apologies,” Harold replied, holding his hands together, as if praying. “But my blood is literally curdling. It hurts.”
“As will your asshole if we don’t complete our mission because of your incompetence.” Set pushed his hand into Sif’s back and pressed her forward. “Let’s go.”
The train jostled, causing those around Jarrod to stir. He looked out the window, spotting passengers skidding across the ground with chairs, tables and other debris. He shot from his seat.
“My friends!” he yelled, running through the crowd towards the source of commotion. People screamed and flooded the aisle. They ran towards the back of the train, against Jarrod. “Everyone, out of my way.”
Is it my turn to play? Ryan taunted. The hairs on Jarrod’s arms straightened.
Jarrod wiped the sweat from his face. “No. It can’t be. You’re locked up.”
The train shook again. The horde was thrown and knocked him onto his back. He rolled into a seat and cradled himself in the fetal position until the wave of fleeing people had passed. Slowly, he stood.
Horus extended his hand. “We must go.”
Jarrod looked behind Horus. Set approached. A crossbow took shape over his hand and light crystallized.
“Is that an Assassin?”
Horus wrapped his arms around Jarrod, encompassing him into the aurascales. The crossbow erupted, blasting them from the train.
They hit the ground and bounced to a stop, tumbling through the eight track grid. Set burst out the top of the train, ripping away the back three train cars. The rear cars turned sideways, unhinged from the tracks, and barreled into the wheat fields.
Jarrod sprinted toward a road down a long slope. Set, stalking his prey from the sky, soared toward his target. The aurascales around Horus repaired their damage and the hawk mask took form. His weapon of choice sizzled into his grasp.
Set landed in front of Jarrod. Dirt kicked up. Set put his fist to Jarrod’s chin. Two blades shot along his jaw line, shaving whiskers. The third prodded under his mouth. Set remained still.
“What’re ya waitin’ for?” Jarrod asked. He grabbed Set’s wrist. “Do it.” He shook the Assassin, but Set remained stoic. “KILL. ME.”
Horus chopped. Set parried left and spun into his own attack. His sword caught Horus along the ribs. The prince’s aurascales sliced open and resealed.
“Your moves are telegraphed. Obviously taught by a lesser fighter,” Set taunted, kneeing Horus in the face. “The energy of your star is familiar.” Set evaded a stab, spun, and elbowed Horus in the back of the head. “Your colors hail from the Southern Corner, but your faceguard is unfamiliar.” Three jagged blades shot out from his forearm. Set drove them into Horus’ shin. “Who are you?” he grunted. “My sweet nephew?”
Jarrod’s heel caught Set between the shoulder blades, pushing him away from Horus. The ground rumbled. A local commuter train swiped into Set like a wrecking ball and tossed him several yards. The train screeched to a halt. The passengers pressed their faces to the windows and watched the action unfold, recording the events.
“Can you fly us back to our train?” Jarrod helped Horus stand. His wounded compatriot draped his arm over Jarrod’s shoulders. The steel tracks vibrated. Another bullet train headed their way. “Anytime you’re ready.”
Horus’ wings expanded, ready for flight. Before he could lift off, three jagged spears stabbed into his armor, latching hold. Set circled above. His wrist blades had dislodged from their holders and penetrated Horus’ armor. Attached to them was a long wire which retracted and yanked Horus off the ground.
Jarrod leapt out of the bullet train’s path with no time to spare. The drag created by the speeding locomotive sucked him along the ground like a soda can. He grabbed for anything to stop with. His nails ripped from their fingers. Finally, he slammed gut first into a signal light.
“The smell of Osiris is on you.” The chrome armor vanished from Set’s face. He tied the wire around Horus’ neck like a noose and hooked it to the speeding train. “Another time I’ll slay you like I did him.” The train sped off over the horizon, dragging Horus with it. Set lowered to the ground, grinning.
Jarrod stumbled and eventually fell into a crawl. The people on the train continued to snap pictures, in awe of Set’s wings as they crawled back into the aurascales.
“Don’t leave on my account.” Set stood in Jarrod’s way. “I must admit, I’m underwhelmed. I thought you’d be... less like Azrael. I definitely figured you’d be more of a challenge. Someone worthy of my skills and blade.”
“Get it over with.” Jarrod rolled onto his back, revealing his battered and bruised condition. “You’d be doing the world a favor.”
“I don’t do favors.” Set ran his hand along Jarrod’s chin in a provocative and exotic fashion. Maybe more attractive than I thought, given your bloodied state. “I do myself favors.”
He grabbed Jarrod by the hair and dragged him toward the stalled commuter train. A crossbow manifested over his forearm. Scintillating green light crystallized into an arrow and propelled out. The side of the train car split open. Several passengers were instantly vaporized.
“No.” Jarrod reached for the people as if he could save them.
Set grinned and repeated the process until the whole side of the train car had disintegrated. The passengers still alive clung to their seats with their heads pressed down to shield their eyes. The souls of those departed lingered in the air, their blue haze visible only to the angel and clone.
“Enough.” Jarrod struggled to free himself from Set’s grasp, but it was futile.
“Only when you stop me.” Set kicked the side of Jarrod’s leg and snapped the tibia. Jarrod collapsed, writhing in pain. “That should keep you there until you decided to heal yourself and stop me.”
“Why?” Jarrod cried.
Who cares why? Ryan spoke up.
“Build the mental wall, Jarrod,” he said to himself.
Fight or flight has kicked in. I’m not going anywhere. Ryan responded.
“Crawl back where you came from.” Jarrod slapped himself, sweating profusely.
Set lifted an old woman. His sword swiped down her gut, spilling her insides in front of her grandchildren. The more souls available for the taking, the more Jarrod’s skin illuminated. Cold sweats soaked him.
“This does nothing for you?” Set squinted. He snatched a young boy, holding the edge of the blade to his neck. “I was told you were Death incarnate, yet you cower like a school girl, letting these innocent people die. They’re gone already. I know you see their souls. Take them for your own and give me a good match.”
He has a point. We can take him.
“I let you out of the cage and you won’t go back,” Jarrod whispered, spitting blood. He looked at the ground, shaking his head as if willing himself into defiance. A blue glow spiraled through his temple and spurted from his eyes.
“Speak up coward, I hear you not,” Set yelled, dragging the blade across the boy’s throat. The blood seeped slowly at first, but turned into a flash flood. The eight year old hit the ground with his blank eyes looking towards Jarrod. “Some prophecy. It seems we missed the mark again. I’ll finish you now.”
Dammit, you coward, he’ll kill us both! Ryan yelled in a panic.
“It is what it is.” Jarrod nodded, breathing with relief.
Set pulled Jarrod to his feet. It was then he spotted a pale bluish hue in Jarrod’s skin. The eyes were bloodshot with repressed desire. Set tossed Jarrod to the ground.
“You almost fooled me.” Set turned away. “I slaughtered more than I had to because you let me. You’d do well to remember that.”
He’s right, Ryan taunted.
“Shut up!” Jarrod screamed.
“You just let them die.” Set rubbed the blood from his ch
in. He scratched the back of his head, deep in thought. “You are a dark messiah, aren’t you? Clearly you’ve never been properly motivated. I’ll get to your real potential. You shall see.” Set vanished in a sparkle of pink light.
Athena and Sif sparred a few train cars back from the dining car. Two daggers twirled in Sif’s hands. Spikes protruded from her knuckles. Jab-jab-cross, Athena’s depowered armor dented along the chest and back. Sif kicked Athena onto her stomach and lunged with her daggers. Hermes stopped her.
“What are you doing?” Sif asked.
“Choosing my own place, for once.” Hermes soared through the top of the car, pushing Sif. “I know you fight in fear.”
“I fear nothing.” Sif drove both elbows into the base of Hermes’ skull and they crashed a good distance from the now stopped train.
Athena sprinted in their direction. The two Assassins fought against each other. The clang of their blades echoed through the field.
Hermes struck. “I fight for loyalty, Sif…”
She deflected his sword and shoved a shield into his chin. “Then why do you turn against us?”
“You know as well I do there’s never been an ‘us’.” He rolled across the ground. Her sword barely missed his head. He punched her chin and lunged for her heart. “You still fight for love.”
“Love of Father.” She caught his hands and pushed the blade away. Her weapon tapped his throat.
Hermes looked at Athena, raising a hand for her to stop. “For Thor and your son,” Sif gasped, pulling the blade away. “We can stop Set. I know you didn’t kill Thor. You just took his head when you found him. It was all too easy for the Archangels to fill in the blanks.”
“You know nothing,” she sobbed.
“He knows more than we’d like to admit.” Set appeared and Athena hid in the crops. Set pushed Sif aside. Hermes attacked. Set evaded him and jammed the wrist blades into Hermes’ gut. “I told you where defiance would lead. You had only to trust.” Set knelt and laid Hermes’ head on the ground.
“Did you kill him?” Hermes asked. “Did you stop fate like I know you desire?”
“I prefer permanent solutions.” Set caressed Hermes’ cheek, twisting the blades further. Blood trickled from Hermes’ mouth. “I intended only to test him. The real thing is yet to come.”