Stone Cold Bastards

by Jake Bible

  “Dick or not, I have to protect the sanctuary and any threats against the wards inside this cathedral,” Olivia replied. Her voice hitched slightly and she slowly turned to look at Highlander. “You have become a threat.”

  “What? Me?” Highlander asked, shocked at the fiery look Olivia gave him. “No, wait, no, hold on, no, come on, no. No, no, no, no.”

  “I am sorry,” Olivia said. “I am bound by the magic.”

  “But he was a monster,” Highlander shouted.

  “He was unarmed,” Olivia replied. “That was murder, Highlander. I am sorry.”

  “Whatcha sorry about?” Nissa asked as she and Tessa came walking down the corridor.

  They were armed to the teeth, draped in all kinds of rifles, pistols, grenades, and ammo belts. The noise they made was like a junk wagon rattling down a cobblestone road. Tinkers of death and destruction.

  “Holy shit, will ya look at that,” Tessa exclaimed. “Somebody made a Gil-kabob. Who did it? I want to shake their hand. I hated that punk-ass bitch.”

  Highlander raised his hand.

  “Nice,” Tessa said.

  The faeries assessed the scene and laughed.

  “Oh, man, Olivia, were you gonna kill Highlander?” Nissa asked. “You have that whole, I’m-gonna-kill-a-ward-because-a-ward-killed-a-ward vibe.”

  “Whoa, you were, weren’t ya?” Tessa said, but didn’t wait for Olivia to answer. “Cold, man. So fucking cold.”

  “You might want to hold off on killing him,” Nissa said as she unslung a double-barreled shotgun and held it out. “We’re gonna need every ward we can if we’re gonna hold the cathedral.”

  “He has committed a mortal sin,” Olivia said.

  “Have you looked outside?” Tess asked, pointing at one of the windows, which was an awkward gesture since she was holding a semi-automatic pistol in her hand as well as four grenades dangling precariously by their pins from her fingers like gaudy rings. “We got a whopper of a possessed problem. All hands on deck, chica.”

  “They took down the fence and are coming straight at the door,” Nissa said as she racked a shell into a pump-action shotgun. “And they sure as shit ain’t selling Girl Scout cookies.”

  3

  ELISA TACKLED THE man about the waist right before he brought the hunk of metal down on Hannah a second time. The first blow had seriously messed up the older woman’s right arm; the second was sure to kill her.

  The man shouted a string of epithets at Elisa, but she ignored him. She’d heard them all before, plenty of times. A life spent on the streets made her completely immune to any of the dozens of foul names the man was spitting at Elisa as she tried to wrestle the sharp metal from his grip.

  “Bitch! Let go,” the man snarled, trying for a head-butt.

  He missed and Elisa brought her right elbow down and across his face, splitting his left cheek wide open. He cried out and struggled to get free of Elisa’s weight, but she ground down with a knee right in his crotch and his cry turned into a squeal which turned into a silent moan, mouth wide open, eyes about to pop from his head.

  Elisa hit him again with her elbow and his head slammed into the ground. His grip weakened and there was zero hesitation on Elisa’s part as she yanked the metal free from him, brought it up over her head, then down into the man’s chest. Blood spurted up and she turned her head as her face became sticky and warm.

  “Ugh,” she said as she rolled off the man, leaving the metal standing in the middle of his chest like a disgusting flag pole. “He stinks.”

  A hand touched Elisa’s thigh and she flinched then relaxed as she saw Hannah trying to smile at her. The older woman was severely beaten and cut up, one eye swollen completely shut, but she was still able to smile and that gave Elisa the energy she needed to get her ass up out of the grass.

  “Come on,” Elisa said and helped Hannah to her feet. “We need to get you—”

  She didn’t finish. The noise of the iron fence bending overpowered any words she could have uttered. It sounded like the world being ripped apart as the solid rails and bars were simply bent in half by the size and weight of the possessed horde. Those in front were crushed against the fence, sacrificed for leverage, and their bodies were slowly pulped, squeezed through the bars, sending blood and guts to spray and splatter on the grass of the sanctuary grounds.

  Or former sanctuary grounds. That magic was gone, ripped free of its moorings. That was easy to see.

  “Get out of here, dolls,” Coins shouted, appearing at hers and Hannah’s sides. “The cathedral is still protected! Get your butts in there! Now!”

  Elisa nodded, barely registering the G’s words as the horde of possessed shoved, clawed, and fought their way over each other, all trying to be the first ones to set foot on ground that had been off-limits only minutes before. Her eyes shifted to Morty’s still form that lay only a few yards away, halfway buried in a mound of grass and dirt.

  Xue was standing close to Morty and staring down at what was held in the G’s arms.

  “Is that a girl?” Elisa asked. “Shit! That’s a girl!”

  She ran toward Morty and Xue, ignoring both Coins’s and Hannah’s shouts of protest behind her. She had barely reached Xue when the large G raised a stone paw over the girl’s head, ready to bring it down in one, life-ending swipe.

  “No,” Elisa shouted, causing Xue to pause in mid-blow.

  “No,” Morty croaked and held up a hand to block Xue. It was a weak gesture.

  “She is possessed,” Xue snarled. “Morty brought her through the barrier, destroying it and the magic that kept the grounds safe.”

  “Didn’t . . . know,” Morty sighed. “Honestly . . .”

  “I believe you,” Xue said. “But she must die. Now.”

  “She’s just a girl,” Elisa complained, her hands pulling at Xue’s shoulders.

  He swiveled his head and stared at her, eyes glowing orange with an ancient fire. “You are not that naive, Elisa.”

  Elisa didn’t have a response to that. She was actually surprised at her protest. If the girl was possessed, then there was nothing she could do to help her. The damage was already done.

  “Last Stonecutter,” Morty said.

  “What?” Xue asked, his head whipping back around to regard the fallen G. “What did you say?”

  “She is . . . the last . . . Stonecutter,” Morty said. “Damn. . . . Can you . . . help me . . . up?”

  “What the hell in a handbasket is going on?” Coins asked as he ran up to them.

  “Morty says she’s the—” Elisa started.

  “Shandra?” Coins asked. “No, wait, not Shandra.”

  Morty shifted and looked at Coins.

  “Shandra was her mother,” Morty said, some of his strength back in his voice.

  He shifted and Desiree’s body shifted with him. Xue and Elisa took an instinctive step back. But Coins stepped forward and knelt in close.

  “What’s her name?” Coins asked.

  “Desiree,” Morty said. “She’s the last Stonecutter.”

  “Yeah, she is,” Coins said.

  “She is possessed,” Xue stated.

  The horde of possessed crossed the boundary that had once held them out and came at the small group standing in the grass and dirt.

  “We must kill it and get inside to safety,” Xue said.

  “Shit, look at her,” Coins said as if Xue had said nothing. “Is she dying?”

  “Yes,” Morty said. “I was bringing her back here so Highlander could fix her up. Or try to.”

  Coins stood suddenly and looked around. “Where is he?” he asked.

  “Who?” Xue asked.

  “The G. Big, huge guy, obsidian gloves and swords,” Coins said.

  “Mortar shell got
him,” Morty said.

  “Damn,” Coins said. “He would have been good to have around.”

  “Who?” Elisa asked.

  “Dammit,” Xue roared. “She is possessed and must be killed!”

  “Hold on, Clifford,” Coins said and fished his coin from his stone pocket. “No one’s killing this little girl today.”

  “She cannot come inside the cathedral if she is possessed,” Xue snarled. “Stonecutter or not, her soul is lost.”

  “Please,” Coins scoffed as he knelt again and gently pried open Desiree’s mouth.

  The little girl’s eyes shot open. They were pitch-black and filled with bottomless evil.

  “We are Legion,” she said with a hiss.

  “Oh, shut up,” Coins said and jammed the coin inside Desiree’s mouth then clamped her lips shut. “No one cares.”

  The girl writhed and squirmed, her entire body one huge convulsion.

  “You’re killing her,” Morty cried and reached for Coins’s hands, but he was slapped away.

  “Trust me,” Coins said as black sludge leaked from the girl’s eyes and ears. It seeped into the ground and was gone, leaving only a dead patch of grass and an odor like egg farts. “There. Clean as a whistle. Let’s get her inside and find Highlander.”

  “She isn’t breathing,” Elisa said, her eyes watching the girl’s chest.

  “Shit,” Morty said as he struggled to get to his feet.

  Elisa rushed in and took the girl from him. She felt so light and frail. And cold.

  “She needs CPR,” Elisa said, her ear to the girl’s still chest.

  “No time out here,” Coins said. “We do it inside.”

  “It may be too late by then,” Elisa said.

  “It’s too late out here,” Morty said and nodded at the horde that was now racing at them.

  “Oh, God,” Elisa whispered as Morty tried to take Desiree back from her. “No. You’re hurt, I can see—”

  “I’m fine,” Morty growled. He shook his head as he pulled his arms back. “Just run. Now!”

  The group, including Xue, ran for the cathedral, grabbing a wounded, swaying Hannah on the way, forcing the older woman to keep up despite her injuries.

  There was no choice. It was run until collapse, or stay and be ripped apart by a couple of thousand possessed vessels. No choice at all.

  4

  THE KNIFE SLID in easily between the fourth and fifth ribs. The woman gasped, her eyes wide with pain and confusion, then she let out her last breath and collapsed against the man.

  “That’s right, bitch,” he said. “You come at me and you get the blade. Anyone else want some of this?”

  “You’re gonna die!” one of the capitals in the nave’s archway shouted. “Death is coming for you!”

  “Gonna rip you a new one,” the other shouted.

  “That right? You gonna do it?” the man yelled, pointing the blade at the talking stone faces. When they didn’t move, he shouted, “I didn’t think so! How about you shut the hell up then?”

  He sneered back at the dozen wards huddled in the corner of the nave, most of them with their heads turned away, refusing to watch their own deaths coming. The man laughed and gave the knife a couple of swipes through the air. Half the wards that dared to meet his eye cried out. Some peed themselves.

  “Bunch of crybaby sheep.” The man chuckled. “You people are why the demons won. You don’t even want to live anymore. I show you some steel, draw a little blood, and you’re all weeping and whining like little shits. You deserve to die.”

  “I believe, young man, you have that backward,” Antoine said as he dropped from the rafters above and landed directly behind the man. He placed a hand on each side of the man’s head. “You are the one that deserves to die.”

  Twist, snap, pop, dead.

  “Told ya,” the stone faces said, cackling in unison.

  The headless corpse fell to the floor as Antoine tossed the severed head over his right shoulder like a piece of wadded paper.

  “You folks okay?” Antoine asked. He sniffed and wrinkled his nose. “Uh, some of you definitely are not.”

  Two things happened at exactly the same time, nearly making Antoine’s head spin right off his own shoulders.

  Artus screamed from the courtyard, and the front doors of the cathedral slammed open while Xue, Morty, Coins, Hannah, and Elisa, holding some dead-looking girl in her arms, came rushing inside so fast that Antoine thought he saw comic book speed lines trailing from their backs.

  Artus screamed again and Antoine tore his eyes from the front doors so he could race into the courtyard. What was happening at the front doors was a distraction. Artus needed help and that was all that mattered.

  “What in the name of all that is made of stone is going on in here?” Antoine shouted.

  Jon was up on the ladder, whacking at the spot where Artus was joined to the cathedral while some strung-out punk stood below, holding the ladder steady since it looked like it wanted to crumple into splinters with each and every whack.

  “Take care of him,” Jon said to the man below.

  “Uh . . . what?” the man asked, his eyes going from amusement to fear in a blink. “How?”

  “Smash them with iron,” Jon said. “That’ll do the job.”

  “Smash who with iron?” Antoine asked and looked around. “Me?” There was shouting from the gallery and a noise like a rumbling wave coming from outside, but he ignored all that as Artus screamed a third time. “Knock that off!”

  “That’s what I’m trying to do, asshole,” Jon said and laughed. He stopped laughing and glared down at his henchman. “Kill him.”

  “I think he meant to say that to me,” Antoine said.

  He was on the man in one leap.

  Goblin claws and goblin fangs went to work and the man was shredded flesh in seconds. Parts were everywhere like macabre and bloody glitter. Antoine wiped his claws on his chest and looked up at Jon.

  “I told you to knock that off,” he said.

  “If you say so,” Jon replied as Antoine grabbed the ladder.

  Jon gave one last whack. Artus broke free of his moorings and fell to the ground with an unceremonious thud. A few pieces of stone chipped off from his body, but the rest remained intact. Artus didn’t make a sound, only blinked his stone eyes a few times and focused on Antoine.

  Jon jumped down from the ladder and clutched the obsidian with his right hand, swiping it back and forth like some B movie villain. Antoine looked over one shoulder then the other and shrugged.

  “Is that glass toothpick for me?” Antoine asked.

  “I can do some real damage with it, you stone fuck,” Jon said.

  “Uh, okay?” Antoine replied. “Good for you?”

  He took a couple of steps toward Jon and the man swung the obsidian in a wide arc, trying to keep the G back. Antoine laughed.

  “Why’d they send you in?” Antoine asked and nodded at Artus. “To hurt him? Well, he’s hurt. Now, how about you get the hell out of our cathedral and tell your demon overlords that they failed? You do that and I let you live.”

  “They haven’t failed,” Jon said. “They’ve won, man. Your sanctuary is over. Nowhere left to hide.”

  “Hide? I’m standing right here,” Antoine said. He glanced at Artus and the old gargoyle gave him a weak, but knowing nod in return. “So you aren’t going to deliver my message?”

  “The only message being delivered, bitch, is the one from Hell to you sorry-ass gargoyles,” Jon snarled.

  “Grotesques,” Antoine said.

  “What?” Jon asked.

  “Grotesques,” Antoine said. He pointed at Artus with one bloody claw. “He’s a gargoyle, yeah, but the rest of us are grotesques.”

  �
�So fucking what?” Jon shouted. “What does it matter?”

  “It matters,” Antoine said and shrugged. “Or maybe it doesn’t. I don’t know.”

  Jon lifted the obsidian above his head and moved to stand over Artus, ready to bring it down in one last killing blow.

  “Nope,” a voice said from behind him.

  The gunshot rang out and the wards still cowering back in the nave screamed. Antoine jumped as Jon looked down at his chest and the gaping hole there.

  “What the fuck?” he whispered before collapsing onto the ground.

  He twitched a couple of times then lay still.

  “Do you feel lucky, punk?” Nissa said from the far side of the courtyard, a pistol almost larger than her arm gripped in both hands. “Well, do ya?”

  “You’re supposed to ask that before you shoot him,” Tessa said.

  “Oh,” Nissa said. “Okay, stand him up and let’s do it again.”

  The faeries looked at Antoine, expectant and waiting.

  “What? No, I’m not standing the dead meatbag up so you can quote some old movie and shoot his corpse,” Antoine said. “What I’m going to do is help Artus back up onto his perch. Want to give me a hand?”

  He looked at the massive amount of weapons the two Gs were weighted down by.

  “Maybe not, you two are busy,” he said. He hurried to Artus and knelt. “Hold on, I’ll get you back in place.”

  “No,” Artus said. “It does not matter. I no longer possess the power to protect us. My magic still flows through the stones of this cathedral for now, but in minutes, it will fade and the possessed will be able to breach these walls. You must escape.”

  “Yeah, not happening, OG,” Nissa said.

  “Nope,” Tessa agreed. “Not happening. This place is ours. Ain’t no jacked-up humans gonna take it from us.”

  She racked the slide of her pump-action shotgun for emphasis.