Ways of Darkness (Wolves of the Apocalypse Book 2)

by LC Champlin

  Hhhhssst!

  “What—” Nathan whirled to see a fire door had slid across the hall. “Shit!” Onscreen, its icon pulsed red and yellow. Activated. Ken must retain some control.

  A lightning bolt symbol rotated ahead of Ken on the map. Tasers?

  “Arm Tasers.” Instead of asking where, all lightning icons pulsed red and yellow—including the one between Nathan and Ken. Others around the building blocked the path of the pack’s dots.

  He paused before rounding the bend where a Taser waited. Edge around the corner and—A lightning bolt on a shield floated in mid air.

  “Disarm the Tasers ahead of me.”

  Tasers locked to intruder mode: all active or all inactive.

  “Change mode.”

  Access denied.

  Fucker! “Disarm Tasers.” The icons turned green again.

  Ken’s dot—and the fugitive himself—darted into the hall ahead.

  “Judge, fass!”

  The dog charged down the red hall after her prey.

  “Ken!”

  The inventor sprinted down the corridor. A fire door slid closed an instant before Judge reached it. She skidded to a halt, growling and barking as she jumped against the metal.

  Dead end. He’d treed the raccoon in his safe room. Pulse rising at the prospect of victory, Nathan stalked down the hall toward the hideaway. “Turnabout is fair play when you toy with me and mine, Ken.”

  “This fire door will open, you know,” Ken’s voice came over the steel door’s intercom. “But if you open it, all the doors open, including those to the outside. If you want to reach me, you’ll have to allow the gunmen outside to reach you. Instant karma.”

  “Lunatic.”

  A panel in the steel door slid aside to reveal a window of frosted glass to reveal a figure with pits for eyes and a slash of white for a leer. “I thought we could work together. We’ve been rivals, but this alliance had potential. Two dark gods—”

  “Hand over control of the Oshiro so I can take it out of intruder mode, and perhaps we can work something out.”

  “That’s always been your problem, Nathan: everything is not enough. Don’t blame me for this mess; you brought it on yourself.”

  “Fucking—”

  Boom! An explosion on the south side of the building. An RPG? The lawn smoldered. Dry grass could inspire more dread than an army of swords. If the fire spread along the shrubs, it would reach the tanker.

  “Ken, I wish we could have worked together, but I value my life too much to allow you to be in control. For all I know, you wanted to turn us into cannibals like the ones in the basement.” If Ken had discovered anything about the monsters, he would spit it out before he died. Wait—Nathan blinked. Kill the inventor? He needed Ken’s mind if at all possible.

  “Don’t tell me you haven’t wanted to slice one open to see what makes it tick.”

  Of course, but—No, no distractions. “Birk’s oni cards. You met with him, or vice versa. He showed you something regarding the Doorway files. What was it?”

  “It was less than I wanted.”

  “What did you want from him? Neural interfaces for your games?” There had to be more.

  “Don’t be slow, Nathan.”

  “Spit it out!”

  “You’ve seen Faithful Dark’s concept art, right? Have you noticed how much the cannibals look like the Damned? With some work, they could resemble the oni, or even the shinigami. The Bay Area and eventually the world will become like the Yomi-no-Kuni and the Ne-no-kun. Beautiful, no? That’s a future worth investing in!”

  “Let me guess,” Nathan hissed through clenched teeth, “you want to be able to control the cannibals so you can act as a Dominator, a dark god in your new underworld.”

  “Sure! As such, I will also be able to influence the evolution of humankind’s inner state, its chi.”

  Utter madness. “By making everyone a cannibal? I’d say you’re evil, but you don’t believe in evil, do you.”

  “Is it evil to be yang instead of yin, or yin instead of yang?”

  Nathan stared in horror at the gauzy, inhuman figure behind the glass. “This is as insane as the terrorist bastards who murder innocents to institute Sharia Law or hasten the Twelfth Imam’s coming.”

  “Or you, who believe you’re God’s chosen one?”

  “No.” Reason gained no traction in Ken’s mind.

  “Mm. I’ve been thinking about you a lot recently.”

  “I’m flattered.”

  “When you invited me to that technology summit this past weekend, I thought about how good it would be to see my old rival and frenemy Nathan again. When your peeps came under my wing for shelter, I hoped you would find them. Then lo and behold, you show up on my doorstep like a lost puppy. My thoughts—my will—drew you here. As a man thinketh, said the philosopher James Allen. He believed in the power—”

  “Of positive thinking?” Nathan snorted. They didn’t have time for this, but like a serial killer’s confession, the monologue riveted attention.

  “You make mock, yet here you are. Then when I saw your okami aspect, I knew you were the best person to test my new immersive augmented-reality game. But more importantly, I could test your commitment to—or should I say obsession with—with power and ‘leading.’”

  “That’s it? That’s your motivation? Lunatic.”

  “What’s the fun of a game, or my new world, for that matter, without someone to play? You could level into a god!” Excitement vibrated in his voice as he bounced behind the glass. “You could have controlled the cannibals with me.”

  “You don’t have the technology.”

  “Give me time.”

  “No. And I don’t share control.”

  On the CCTV feed in the glasses, a cannibal blundered through a nest of flames. Fire latched onto the monster’s pant leg like a tick thirsty for blood. The Dalit ignored the flames. Time was running out.

  “Hah, the lust for power is strong in this one! But if you hand control completely back to me,” Ken drawled, “I can activate the sniper system and kill the mercs and cannibals, since I locked you out. Or you can come and take my access code. You’d know how if you’d played Faithful Dark.”

  And they said playing computer games wasted time. Turning half away from Ken, Nathan murmured, “Call Marvin Bridges.”

  Calling . . .

  “Nathan?” Marvin panted. “What’s going on? Why are the doors locking and—”

  “In Faithful Dark, what’s the cheat for taking over the Oshiro in the underworld?”

  “What? There isn’t one.”

  “There has to be.”

  Ken tapped on the glass. “Give them the drives and collection. They’ll go away—”

  Marvin drowned him out: “I saw on a forum that you could control the Oshiro if you killed the main god. It was hard as hell, though. Even if you did, you became the enemy of the other gods. Your reputation dropped to pure evil, but you became a god even if you were one of the Damned when you killed him.”

  Bingo.

  Chapter 54

  Open-Door Policy

  End of Me - Ashes Remain

  Pins and needles tingled in Nathan’s fingers as if static attempted to climb his arms to reach his mind. He turned to face Ken. “You tied the Oshiro’s access to your life.”

  “Death is just another stage of existence. I know from your chi you understand, Nathan. You bend the Way to your will, just as I turn the Tao to my advantage.” The silhouette receded from the window. No fear in Ken’s voice. Keep calm and crazy on?

  “God chose me to be a conqueror here.” The XD-S’s crosshatching bit into Nathan’s palm as he drew the pistol. A dead cop’s gun, all that remained of a life devoted to protecting and serving.

  “Your blood-thirsty god is just an excuse for your thirst for power. How long will Albin stay loyal when you descend into holy madness? You call me insane, but I’m not the one who
’s sacrificing friends on the altar of power.”

  The door hissed open at Nathan’s command. Judge darted inside. Squeezing his right shoulder to his ear and blocking his other ear with his hand, he followed her into the chamber.

  There, Ken!

  Bang-crash! Glass shattered. Shards danced in the light, skittered over the floor. Not Ken, but a projection on a screen, like the dragons in the courtyard. Spent gunpowder tinged the air.

  “Ken, you coward.”

  A trapdoor icon pulsed red and yellow in the room’s center. The vermin had escaped, a raccoon to the end. Hati’s jaws snapped on thin air.

  Judge scratched at the floor, whining, tail wagging.

  “Go.” Nathan waved her out of the room. A line the width of a hair formed a square in the floor.

  “Ken!” he roared. “I thought you didn’t fear death.”

  On the glasses’ screen, a cannibal lunged through the entry room’s open door. At the rear exit, another of the monsters stalked in. If only the mercenaries would enter, he could still trap them.

  “Close doors.”

  The safe room’s door closed, and with it the outside doors.

  “Open trapdoor.”

  Access denied.

  “You leveled up! How does it feel to be a god?” Ken mocked over the Oshiro’s speakers.

  Like being trapped. The tac knife blade locked out with a click. Shit, the tip barely fit in the hatch’s gap. “You said my chi had changed, that I had the aspect of the okami. Chi means breath. You let in the Big Bad Wolf!” He had to laugh at the irony.

  “You realize I haven’t used passwords as my only security since you hacked me the last time, right? Good try, though, even if it was predictable.”

  No wonder it felt too easy.

  The feed from the Oshiro’s front pulsed. The pants-on-fire cannibal stumbled against the tanker’s cab. Collapsing beside the front tires, the creature seized and twitched as the fire consumed it. Fat bubbled while ashen skin turned black and shriveled. Death throes carried the cannibal under the cab.

  Flames curled up around the passenger door from beneath the vehicle.

  Glass crunched like ice under Nathan’s Nikes. “Open fire door.”

  One door command remaining. Are you sure you want to proceed? What the hell did that mean?

  “I should mention that if you open the door,” Ken began with amusement, “all the doors open and will stay open. It’s a security precaution in case my account was ever compromised. My Oshiro will survive. Will you? Welcome to Hell!” Ken’s red dot winked out.

  Trapped. Throat tight, Nathan growled. Chills and fever sweat alternated. Trapped in a fortress turned prison.

  One, two, th . . . three, four.

  Wait, what about Albin and the others? The contacts list appeared on screen, all names as inactive gray.

  The HT! “Albin, do you copy?” Silence. “Albin, do you copy?” Ken used a radio-signal jammer or insulation, no doubt.

  Outside, the fire chewed on the cab’s tires.

  “Ken, if that tanker goes up, you lose your Oshiro.”

  Silence.

  “You’re an insane fool.” Nathan’s muscles tensed. Fuck, not even a chair here to throw. Did he dare fire a weapon in a cell that might have bulletproof walls and windows? Damned Ken, playing god!

  Scratching at the door—Judge stood on hind feet to look in the window at him. “Judge, get help! Go!”

  She barked, dropping to all fours. More scratching came.

  “Go! Get help!” As she padded off, he added, “Nathan’s in the well.”

  Chapter 55

  See the Lights

  Defector - Muse

  Outside, the fire in the truck cab grew from a merry blaze to a ravenous monster. A pack of four cannibals gawked at it from the head of the driveway.

  Black smoke rolled into the sky like a Lovecraftian Old One: stygian, cyclopean, semi-sentient. With that beacon, the National Guard would thunder down the street in about ten minutes.

  Nathan kicked the door in frustration—ahg, the shock reverberated in his ribs. That stupid dog probably ran off to find Marvin in hopes of getting another sandwich.

  Fire caressed the tanker. Bang-bang-bang! Three streams of gasoline sprouted from the tank’s left side. So much for Ken’s prediction about Sarge not lighting the match.

  What would the Guard do if and when they came? They’d eliminated the enemies, yes, but if his last experience with the government’s firepower taught anything, it taught that it created as much havoc as it quelled.

  Even if the military managed not to friendly fire on him, he couldn’t go back into government custody yet. He needed to develop Birk’s Doorway research, not to mention implement it.

  But what did God want him to do?

  Conquer, of course.

  If only he could signal Albin. Wait, the lights! Now, cameras. A view of the attorney, Mikhail, and Jo appeared in the lower left corner of the glasses. Each guarded a different corner of the entry chamber’s hall. Marvin, Judge, and Badal watched the rear exit. The mutt had forgotten him!

  At Nathan’s command, the lights flicked on and off three times, half a second between each click. Then another three on and offs, one second apart. Back to the three short. Repeat. Why hadn’t he invested more time in learning Morse code? SOS only went so far.

  Onscreen, Albin squinted at the light in annoyance, which turned to realization. He reached for his HT. “Mr. Serebus, do you copy?” Thank Ken for audio pickup on the cameras.

  Lights off and on.

  The blond paused. Then, “Are you all right, sir?”

  Off, on.

  They needed to leave, preferably by a secret route. The basement would do. With Albin’s firearm skills, the group could manage the Dalits.

  “Are you near the lab?”

  Off, on.

  “Sir, the credentials you sent are not functioning. Do you require assistance?”

  “No, I require you to get the fuck out of here, Albin.” While the gates of Hell might not prevail against them, the horde the gates vomited would.

  Off, on. Off, on.

  “Do you wish us to remain here?”

  “No!” Off, on. Off, on.

  Albin looked over his shoulder at Mikhail and Josephine, apparently deciding what to do with them.

  “Take them!” Nathan ground his knuckles into the window.

  Outside, the fire spread to the tanker itself. The blaze grew to an inferno to rival Nebuchadnezzar’s furnaces.

  “God helps those who help themselves.” He switched the partial mag for the full. Still only six rounds.

  “Come. Mr. Serebus advises us to evacuate.” Albin motioned for the others to follow. Good, they put distance between them and the entrance.

  Off, on.

  Marvin, Judge, and Badal remained in harm’s way, though. The flickering lights only made them look about in confusion.

  Wait, the drone Marvin piloted. Ken hadn’t locked it down yet. He probably wanted his “players” to watch their doom mature into damnation outside.

  A few hand gestures put the drone under Nathan’s control. It ascended until mansions turned into miniatures. There, the intersection. Descend. Zoom in on the stop sign.

  The breeze sent a newspaper skidding across the street. The headline read, Pelosi to Run for House—The rest was missing. Finally the hag made herself useful. The camera zoomed in on Run for House. It felt like clipping words from magazines to make a ransom note.

  Albin and his companions exchanged looks. On the other side of the house, Marvin and Badal shifted their stances in unease.

  Meanwhile, the fire outside spread across the dry grass. The heat desiccated the shrubbery, turning the bushes into tinder. More cannibals gathered, while the mercenaries waited at the Oshiro’s perimeter.

  “Fuck this. Open fire doors.” The barrier slid aside. All the doors on the map turned green.

 
; Chapter 56

  Kennel Up

  Unbroken - Disciple

  Nathan half trotted, half staggered down the hall. Left at the intersec—Active Taser icons pulsed along the corridor. Forward, then. Where did Ken herd him? The map showed defenses at each hall that branched from his route. A path free of traps led to the front entry. “I don’t think so.”

  He needed to get to the basement. Hitting the PTT, he panted, “Albin, Marvin, do you copy? Take the exit that Ken showed Marvin. There are going to be cannibals. I’ll meet you . . . when and where I can.”

  “Sir, the doors—”

  “Are locked open thanks to Ken.” May cannibals chew his bones.

  “Nathan,” Marvin piped up, “can’t we hide in the basement? The terrorists out there will come in and—”

  “The National Guard will arrive.” Nathan turned right and edged past a trap door. No problem when you knew its location. “Then they’ll have to secure the area.”

  “But the Guard’s on our side.”

  “If you want to turn yourself in, do it.”

  Silence.

  Albin replied, “We will endeavor to rendezvous with you ASAP, sir.”

  “Be safe.”

  “Likewise.”

  On the left wall hung a watercolor of a samurai with an oni mask. Five yards down the hall, on the right side, a vase sat on a table. A lightning icon glowed on the glasses. Erring on the safe side, Nathan dropped to his knees and half crawled, half knee-walked under the painting. No Taser probes fired. Wincing, he pushed himself up the wall to his feet.

  He sidled to the vase. Crash! Glass shards sprayed across the wood floor. No Tasers hiding in it? Then where—He spun toward the opposite wall, hefting the table in time to block a probe. The second bounced off the wall, an inch from his thigh. “Pray I don’t find you, Ken.”

  Outside, two coyote-tan Humvees rumbled down the road. The cavalry. Literally. With an M2 .50-cal machine gun on the roof of the leader and a grenade launcher atop the other vehicle, they meant business. Go, Guard!