Death March: Black Magic Outlaw

by Domino Finn

  Shen was dumbfounded. At a total loss for words.

  The hum of Darcy's sports bike announced her arrival. I stepped out of the car as she pulled up beside us.

  "You're okay," she said to Shen.

  I pointed to her scraped up motorcycle. "Your bike's not."

  She clenched her jaw. "I had him. He was right there. I pulled out my Hecate fetish and tried to nail him to the street. Nothing happened."

  "He's running some kind of magic resistance. I couldn't hurt him either."

  "It's worse than that. He uses spellcraft. Since I was holding my statue, I was riding one-handed and couldn't maintain the best control. Something black came out of nowhere and hit my bike. I crashed."

  "That can't be. Maybe he has allies. A vampire?"

  "Way too small and in broad daylight."

  I moved to study her bike. Shen remained distant, understandably distracted. I picked at a melted scrape on the engine block.

  "What is that?" she asked.

  "I don't know. It's like acid. And you dropped your bike on the other side. What could have melted this?"

  "Spellcraft."

  I gritted my teeth. It didn't fit.

  Shen shook his head. "We can't kill this guy."

  "Sure we can."

  "Our spellcraft doesn't hurt him."

  "Your illusion tricked him. My defenses held up too."

  "He's some kind of monster."

  "He's just a normal man. Maybe normal is relative, but I've faced worse."

  "I fucking haven't." Shen grimaced and paced a few yards away.

  Some onlookers nosed around for evidence of wrongdoing—they'd probably heard the gunshots. Their inspection passed over us as we were acting normal enough.

  I pulled Manifesto's sword from my tire. "We should get inside." Darcy parked her bike and came in. Shen reluctantly followed.

  Careful not to get prints on the sword, I hurried ahead and set it by Diana's body. I rushed back to stop Darcy from entering the back room. "You don't wanna go in there," I said, blocking her path.

  "I wanna see," she said. She brushed past me and I didn't stop her. I moved to the front room where Shen was idly staring out the window.

  "The Society's out of town," he mused. "They left us to deal with this fuck. Maybe we should get out of here too."

  "You wanna run?"

  He turned to me. "Shouldn't we? It's the smart play."

  "What about Diana?"

  "She's dead. I can't help her. Besides, it's not like she was the love of my life or anything."

  I flushed. "What the hell kind of thing to say is that?"

  He palmed his forehead. "Fuck. I don't know. She was a good girl. She didn't deserve this. But it's the truth. Diana and I had another three or six months tops before we went our separate ways. I'm still alive. I wanna keep it that way."

  I turned and saw Darcy leaning in the doorway, watching us with the same forlorn expression she'd worn after seeing the body of Marie's son. Shen was only slightly embarrassed she'd overheard.

  "This guy's smarter than us," he reasoned. "You were right, Cisco. The murders aren't random. Maybe they were at first, but this guy's directly targeting the Society now."

  I growled. "What the fuck good is a secret society if you can't catch a serial killer?"

  "That's just it. Secrecy is more important than catching killers. That's how we stay hidden. Manifesto is threatening to expose us."

  Darcy stomped forward. "That's exactly why we need someone to stop him."

  He snorted. "Well, we should send professionals then."

  Darcy hooked her arms across her chest. "He saw you?" she asked me.

  I nodded.

  "He knows you now, then. Me too. You gonna run?"

  I set my jaw. "I've never run from anything in my life. Except zombie pit bulls. And giant Aether squid whales." I cleared my throat. "Actually, running is often a tactically superior strategy. But I'm not letting Manifesto chase me out of my own town."

  She took a moment to mumble and nod to herself. I'd seen this before. She was gathering her courage. "I don't want to run either." She turned to Shen, but the illusionist remained quiet. "What can we do?"

  "I think I have the asshole on camera. He was following us the other day and sped past my car. I'll put on a spare tire and check the video on my computer at home."

  "Sounds like a plan. Let's go." She pressed outside.

  "Hold up," I said as we followed her out. "I let Simon know what happened. I imagine he's sending the cleaners to... the cleaner. Shouldn't you wait for him?"

  "Screw that," she said. "I'm done sitting on the sidelines. I'm following you."

  "I'll wait here," Shen called back. He stood propping the front door open. "I want to say goodbye."

  I chewed my lip and nodded.

  "We'll call you with news," said Darcy.

  "Don't bother. I'm... I'm not pursuing this anymore. I'm heading upstate. Manifesto was waiting for me in here. He thinks he killed me. I'm gonna let him keep believing that."

  I almost said something but Darcy squeezed my arm, her features hard. I often wondered what kind of friendship they had, now more than ever. It never seemed very strong, but maybe she was giving him what he needed.

  Me? I was disappointed Shen couldn't find the will to man up. It's not like he was a complete stranger to action, even if his skills were on the more visual spectrum. Manifesto had killed his girl. The least he could do was reward him with a slow death.

  Maybe that was easy to say coming from a tough-guy ex-zombie hit man.

  "Fine," I said, relenting. I turned to the Firebird and dug out the jack.

  Chapter 32

  Darcy followed me back, and I made sure she was the only one. No Dolphins hoodies or windowless minivans in sight. By the time we rolled into Brickell, I suspected we would be left alone completely. By the Obsidian March, anyway. I was still trying to figure how the serial killer fit in. That black form that had attacked Darcy still had me worried.

  The parking elevator let us out in the lobby. We made our way through the decadent space to the main building elevator. I hurried but Carmela Flores was like a viper lying in wait. She struck right as the doors were about to close and joined us inside for the ride up.

  "The payment cleared, Carmela. I confirmed it with the credit company last night."

  She sucked in her cheeks. "I expect nothing less, Mr. Suarez, and must warn you that being late in the future may carry severe penalties."

  "Can't you give a guy a break? You know about my tragic past. Every now and then I get flagged as a dead person again. It's out of my control."

  "I can sympathize," she said in the most unsympathetic voice ever, "but rules are rules. Without them we'd be outlaws. And we certainly wouldn't be voted most coveted condominium in Brickell, would we?"

  I rolled my eyes. "That would be tragic." Darcy glared at my HOA director and chewed gum loudly. I was hoping she didn't go for one of those eighties-movies bubble blows. That would've crossed the line.

  Carmela was unruffled. "Also, about the strange men and women you keep company with..."

  "Strange?" complained Darcy. Carmela eyed the carved statuette of the god Hecate in her grip. The teenager moved it behind her back.

  "Yes," continued Carmela. "Some residents have concerns that you're running an illegal business from your home. That's expressly forbidden in the bylaws—"

  "What business?" I snapped. "Which residents? This is harassment."

  "It is my duty to act for the community."

  "Duty," I snorted. "You make it sound like a noble calling."

  "It is noble. This is a prestigious community, Mr. Suarez. Residents rely on each other to keep our property value maximized."

  The elevator thankfully dinged. We hurried out with the nosy old lady in tow. "Go home, Carmela. I'm not running a business."

  She cleared her throat with a shrill cough. "I'll need visual confirmation that you aren't engaged in illegal activi
ties."

  "Not gonna happen."

  Darcy popped a bubble in Carmela's face. I opened the door and pulled her inside before barring Carmela's path.

  "Mr. Suarez, your housing agreement states that you must give me access to verify resident concerns, otherwise I can place a lien against your unit."

  "It's my unit! I own it!"

  "You don't technically own it until it's fully paid off. Until then, I am free to place a lien for any minor infraction in the bylaws. You signed the agreement. You should have read the fine print."

  I grumbled and held the door open for her. "Be my guest then." Ugh, what was I thinking buying into an HOA?

  I pushed inside and headed straight to my office computer. Yes, I still have a desktop. Call me old-fashioned. In my defense, I was kinda dead throughout the smart phone boom so I'm a little behind the curve. Sue me. I plugged in the thumb drive, copied the buffered video data to the computer, and went to work locating the moment.

  Darcy wandered by. "You didn't tell me you were rich."

  "What can I say? Caribbean drug money is good." I turned and found Carmela's eyes fixed on me. "Joking." I wasn't sure she believed me.

  "This is so cool," said Darcy. "Can I go swimming in your balcony pool sometime?"

  "Yes. Ask your parents." I pulled away from the computer. "How old are you? Do you have parents?"

  "I'm eighteen. And not really."

  I scratched my head. "Oh, well, then knock yourself out." I wanted to ask for further details but she wasn't the type to open up. I could see her as a runaway, maybe, or an orphan. It would be pointless asking with Carmela snooping around anyway.

  I scrolled forward through the video until I found our little outing. Since the dash cam was forward facing only, I didn't have any evidence of the tail or the encounter. I searched for the moment the car was stopped at the light that turned green. I played it through. Manifesto's bike raced through the intersection and made the first turn.

  "Found it," I called out.

  Darcy hurried over and I replayed it. This time I paused and copied down the plate number. Some letters were hard to make out. I scrolled forward and back a bit until all the digits were confirmed.

  "We've got him." I called Evan, gave him a quick update, and relayed the plate number.

  "This guy sounds wild," he said.

  "How fast can you run the plate?"

  "Assuming it's real, I'll call you right back."

  I smiled as he hung up. Darcy said, "That asshole's going down." Carmela peeked into the room and blinked dumbly.

  "I consult for the police," I explained. "It's not a business run from the penthouse."

  "Yes, well, it appears everything is in order here."

  "Great. You can close the door on your way out." That's what I said out loud, anyway. My tone clearly implied a more colorful ejection. She took the hint and excused herself.

  I paced back and forth along the window overlooking the Miami skyline. Evan was taking a while to call back. If the plate was fake, I wasn't sure the image of Manifesto was enough to catch him. I was getting worried when my phone rang.

  "We found him," he said. "It's an apartment in Flagami registered to Nathan Bartlett Jones. No record. Single, lives alone. He fits the standard profile. I'm putting together a team."

  "Wait a minute, I need to be in on this. We're still not sure what he's capable of."

  "You said he was resistant to magic, right? My guys will pound in there equipped with full BDUs and automatic weapons. What more could you want?"

  Actually... my friend kinda had a point. He gave me the address and told me to burn rubber. My poor Firebird was wounded, but I did what I could on the undersized donut.

  Chapter 33

  The DROP team unloaded from an unmarked delivery van. It was Evan and four guys in SWAT gear. Their faces were covered and they wore tactical webbing with plentiful equipment. White letters across their backs spelled out DROP.

  Evan sharply appraised the teenager with gummy bracelets.

  "I've seen her stop bullets like in The Matrix," I said. "Don't worry about her."

  He grunted. "Okay, then." He handed us both ear plugs. "We go in first. You follow."

  I nodded and stuffed the protective plugs in my ear. These guys weren't playing around. I hurried after them through the main entrance. Once in the hallway, I pulled my shotgun from the ether. To minimize collateral damage, I loaded it with standard buckshot instead of anything with magical components. From what I'd seen of Manifesto, the standard stuff would take him down just fine.

  We crept down the hallway and up a staircase in a line. The DROP team moved with lethal efficiency. They were the right people for the job. Full helmets and lowered weapons. Hand signals and contact for communication. The point man held a body shield. Kinda made me feel like a scrub.

  The breezeway overlooked a central courtyard. We rounded to the back of the building where the DROP team confirmed the apartment number. Evan nodded to initiate the door breach. An officer from the rear came up and pegged the deadbolt with a battering ram.

  "Miami PD! Get on the ground!" The door crashed open and they flooded in. "Left clear." "Right clear." They tapped the shoulder of the man ahead and advanced with full coordination. Darcy and I entered, ready for just about anything.

  The main space was empty. There were no finger necklaces strewn about or severed heads on the dining table. The apartment appeared well lived in. A remote on the sofa and a box of frozen pizza on the kitchen counter. Once again, I was stunned by how innocuous everything was.

  "Pot!" called out a masked officer. "Possible explosive device."

  One of the cops rushed to switch off the gas stove.

  "Back away!" ordered Evan. "Are we clear?"

  The officer in the kitchen retreated. Pistol shots echoed loudly in the small apartment. It was hard to tell where they were coming from, but small holes punched through the closed bedroom door.

  "Taking fire!"

  The DROP team recoiled from the door and behind cover. The lead officer with the shield immediately opened fire, shredding the bedroom door with three controlled bursts. Everybody paused, weapons ready. Another pistol round burst through the door.

  Before the officers could return fire, the pot on the stove whistled sharply. "Down!" cried Evan, but he was interrupted by the explosion of the makeshift bomb. Darcy swung her statue at it and did the impossible: she froze half the explosive force directed our way. A blinding burst of light preceded the concussive tremble that shook the entire floor. Darcy jerked to the carpet. A second explosion was released, reflected away from us. The apartment filled with smoke that tasted of gunpowder.

  The DROP team locked eyes and assessed each other. The two closest to the bedroom door pelted it with return fire. It wasn't chaos, exactly. Despite the unexpected blast and the low visibility due to smoke, the trained officers executed their roles perfectly. They covered the door in tight bursts to suppress incoming fire.

  My problem was it was a little too controlled. A little too safe. Manifesto wasn't engaging the police force. That wasn't his style.

  "Stop!" I yelled. "Stop!"

  Evan ordered the cease-fire and they pulled away, dropped their spent magazines to the ground, and reloaded. Darcy was still on her hands and knees, distraught after her effort. I charged the door, bashing my boot through the splintered remains.

  The bedroom was empty. Smoke roiled from the closet, filling the room and escaping out of the open second-floor window. I huddled back around the wall. "Another explosive!"

  Everyone ducked. Darcy tried to crawl forward to contain it but only succeeded in collapsing. She was hurting. I chanced a peek. Saw the smoke thickening. Orange light reflected from the closet interior.

  "It's not a bomb," I called. "It's a fire."

  I re-entered the room and cleared the closet. The flames raging within obscured my vision. I cautiously approached the window next, slicing the pie with one eye to minimize my exposu
re.

  Manifesto was already on his bike, revving down the alley.

  "It's him!" I yelled.

  I was glad I'd gone with standard buckshot for the raid. My specialty rounds were low powder. They weren't meant for this range. I pointed the shotgun out the window and fired. The rear wheel of the bike kicked at the impact. Manifesto almost dropped the bike, but set his foot underneath and revved in the opposite direction, regaining his balance.

  Evan converged behind me. I leapt through the window and landed on the dumpster cover below. I pulled a shell from the sidesaddle attached to the shotgun and fed it into the breach. As Manifesto sped down the alley I took careful aim and pulled the trigger.

  He pitched sideways off the bike. He skidded on the asphalt into the cross street. The motorcycle continued across the street without a rider and crashed into a wall. I reached for the last shell in the saddle to go again.

  Manifesto was in obvious pain as he rolled to his feet. His pistol was already loaded so he was faster. More shots rang out. I ducked and threw up my energy shield. In his state and at this distance, his shots were wide. Their impacts echoed throughout the nearby alley.

  Above me, Evan's burst fire suppressed the killer. Manifesto cursed and retreated around the corner. Evan ordered his team to the front door, but jumped onto the dumpster himself. I was already sprinting after the wounded killer. Gunshots rang out in the street before I rounded the corner. A car swerved and rear-ended another. I regained visual with Manifesto just as he emptied his weapon into a stalled Toyota's windshield. I aimed the shotgun but a bystander ran across my firing line.

  I opted instead to close the distance. He limped to the door and shoved the dead driver aside. I lashed out with a twine of shadow. It failed to grab him. I cursed and skidded to a stop as he took control of the wheel. One steady breath and I pulled the trigger.