by Alana Melos
“It feels wrong,” Lee added suddenly, his voice quiet and subdued. “There’s some whack shit here. The air tastes dead.”
“Dead?” Rebekah said. “Is he raising more dead?”
“Perhaps,” Alistair said. “It’s charged, but… with a mixture of energies. It’s not… otherworldly, and yet it is. It’s partially necromantic, yet partially… energizing as well. I’ve never felt anything quite like it.”
“Creepy as fuck,” Lee affirmed.
As I kept trying to blink away the double vision with little luck, Alistair continued. “Whatever he’s trying to do is not for our benefit.”
“Then we kill him,” Mauler said, straight to the point.
“If there were only some way to tame magic,” Erasmus said, his voice somewhat wistful as he guided me to the ground. “Make it safe and reliable to use.”
“That’s the whole point of the dark arts,” Alistair replied. “You can’t explain it, you can only experience it.”
“Later, boys,” I said, glad to be on terra firma once more. “Does anyone have eyes on the circle? On the troops?”
“I smell them,” Rory said with a growl. “You will not be pleased by what I smell.”
“I’ll go,” the Nacht Sirene volunteered. “Just give me a moment.”
We waited as the lightning struck three more times. With each successive strike my nerves frayed more and more. I wasn’t magically inclined. If Alistair was right, I couldn’t use magic at all, though I could feel its effects sometimes. Yet even I felt the wrongness in the air after another minute. The rain lashed me, and I was soaked to the bone, but that wasn’t what made me shiver. This energy they were raising… it was, as Alistair said, not good.
A soft gasp erupted over the commlink. “Mein Gott,” the Siren whispered. “There’s so many of them.”
“Are they alive or dead?” I asked, but I already knew the answer.
“Dead, I think,” she whispered. “I don’t dare get any closer since the vampires would see me if there are any present, but there are so many dead. Zombies. They look rotted and yuck.”
“Doesn’t change anything,” I said.
“The dead must be destrroyed,” Mauler growled.
“What’s the set up like?” I asked, blinking furiously. I think the jagged light of blindness lessened a little.
“I can’t see into the circle,” she said. “But there are so many dead outside it. They block my view. I can’t fly, you know.” There was a brief pause and she added, “I think there are some soldiers with them, or maybe they are recently dead.”
“Most of the heat signatures were on the inside,” Erasmus added. “But some were scattered around the outside of the monument. I’d assumed they were lookouts or guards.”
“Maybe necromancers,” Alistair mused. “With their own creations.”
“It looks like an army,” the Siren confirmed. “Like they are getting ready for something big. Hundreds. Maybe thousands.”
I was about to ask where, but it didn’t matter. “We’re out of time, let’s move.” With that, I charged forward, trusting in the others to follow. I wasn’t disappointed with Erasmus at least. In a few moments, he flew beside me, pulling out his robots and expanding them. My sight wasn’t the best, but as we closed in, I saw the sea of the dead the Siren had talked about. They stood there as still as… well, you know what. In the center of the circle of upright stones stood a few people, hands waving, and it looked as though they were chanting something. In the center of that small circle stood Adira, her hands glowing red, splashing Richter’s crimson magic over the area.
I’d held a small amount of hope that she’d just been used or forced to steal from us, that it was a trick and she was still in there. As soon as she saw us and her face twisted in anger and disgust, it drove home the idea that crazed sorcerer had taken her and used her for his own purposes. Anger bloomed.
A commotion on the other side--where the Siren and Blake were to attack--caused many of the dead, mutilated soldiers to turn and run, going to address that problem no doubt. Not all. Not by half. Erasmus said something along the lines of executing a plan to his ‘bots. The sleek silver and iron minions descended from the sky, blasting everything in sight as he tried to sow confusion. It worked for about a second. Richter pointed at us and shouted something. Blasts of energy came our direction. I swooped and dodged as I flew down, intent on killing the bastard where he stood.
Carreful, Wolf cautioned, having sensed my intention through the link. Be calm.
As I struck the first of the dead standing near Richter and his cronies, I ran my mind over Wolf’s thoughts, expecting him to be fine with the idea of killing the mage in our vampiress’ body. He wasn’t. It wasn’t just because I wanted her to live. He did as well, even if she was a dead thing and an abomination to his sensibilities. The thought encouraged me. It wasn’t too late. We’d find a way to save them. We always did. Betrayal, being stuck behind enemy lines, being caught while sneaking into facilities, losing hands, being split apart, captured and changed… it didn’t matter. We’d surmounted all of these long odds and had come out on top and in one piece, more or less.
The dead soldier split in half at my teke-augmented blow with the blade, though it didn’t stop it from trying to swipe at me. Richter shouted in Adira’s voice, his words clear now that I was close. “Kill them! Kill them all! Don’t let them stop us! Protect me!”
His cronies gathered around, and a glowing shield of energy enveloped the center, pushing me out and into the crowd of the zom-bots. As disconcerting as it was to have all these creatures around me without minds, I’d gotten used to the idea of things moving without a consciousness during my telepathy-free months. It didn’t slow me down, not like the first time I’d encountered them. I hadn’t been sure what to do then. Now, with Thomas’ boost and my rage fueling me, I cut them down in swaths, shouting to focus my strikes. My sight still was blurred, but when you had so many targets to choose from, it was hard to miss. Keeping a telekinetic shield at my back and sides, I focused in front of me, striving to clear the area so I could get to Richter.
Black gore splattered the area as Erasmus’ bots fired from the air with their high tech guns. The controller kept back, directing his minions as needed. The bots weren’t immune to gunfire. While their armor protected them from most lead bullets, there were gaps and each successive hit weakened the armor, denting it. I heard shouts from outside the ring, from the Siren and Lee, since the dead didn’t care.
“We’re going to need you, Alistair,” I said as I glanced at the glowing shield. Whatever Richter had been doing, he continued uninterrupted, untouchable behind his protection. “I need you to open up this shield.”
“We’ll be right there,” he said, his voice firm, not shaking at all. So far, so good.
“Hurry,” I urged, severing the mechanical limb of one of the zombots. I smirked to myself, whirling my o-wakizashi around without fear. They couldn’t touch me.
“Hello, lovely,” said a faintly recognizable voice as a body materialized right in front of me, almost on top of me. Too close to bring my blade up, I kneed the vampire in the groin as he shadowstepped in front of me. He grunted, but grabbed me by the shoulders anyway. With my free hand, I reached and brought out one of Gerard’s knives from my back holster.
“Bye, asshole,” I said to Lucius as I stabbed him in the chest. The blade only sunk in an inch, at best.
His grin turned wider, mocking. “You think after all of this done to me I’d let my weakest point remain so?” His fingers dug in as his talons grew, piercing my shoulders. I cried out in pain as they dug in. He pulled with both hands, as if intent on pulling my arms off. “I’d take more time with you if I could,” he said, his voice wistful and sweet.
I blinked my eyes furiously and stared at his chest. If his heart was protected, so would his spine be to prevent decapitation. Thinking fast, I imagined one of those great big scooping machines, the kind used to dig up terrain in
construction work. Holding the image of that bucket firmly in mind, I shoved a telekinetic edge into his stomach and jerked up. That smirk disappeared in a hot second and he looked down at himself comically while his intestines spilled out onto the grassy and slick ground.
“That’s not going to stop me,” he said and pulled. The sensation of feeling my flesh start to tear spurred me on. Blood welled and spilled down my side as I grunted, gritting my teeth under the odd and incredibly painful sensation.
“This will,” I whispered, wanting to get the last word in. I jerked up with the serrated edge of my mental bucket, up into his chest cavity, and then pulled out towards me. His chest exploded in a sea of red, coating me from head to toe. His arms fell away from me and I backed up, sealing up my shield around me as I gasped and groaned. His body fell down since his heart had been disconnected from his head. I was pretty sure those were the two vital components to a vampire’s existence. I saw the pretty sparkling clean metal of his reinforced spine, confirming my suspicions. If he’d only thought of having his rib cage reinforced too instead of just a plate over his heart, he’d still be alive and I’d be dead.
I raised my arms, testing them. Painful, but usable. When I pulled out the collar of my shirt and looked at the wound, it didn’t appear to be that bad. The cloth already stuck to the blood, helping to close it off. Both sides were like that. The skin had torn almost all the way around my arms, including in my armpits. Every time I moved one of them, I got a swift reminder about how close my death had been. The ball joints ached, but didn’t stop me from swinging my arms.
Glancing around me, I saw Erasmus’ bots falling one by one while he joined the fray, firing a laser rifle from a strategic distance. A giant shape loomed into my field of view, and I took a step back, raising my blade until I realized it was Wolf. Alistair stood near him, his lips pressed together in determination, though his hands shook. Dark blood spattered Wolf’s fur, and not just red, but green as well. He’d been hurt, but must have healed it already.
Alistair stared at the shield while they continued their ritual. “It’s nearing completion,” he said. “He’s bringing down Baba Yaga’s work. No…” He paused, deciphering whatever language the cultists used. “No, he’s changing it, bringing it under his control.”
“That’s even worse,” I pointed out. “What if he makes it so no one can enter Axis save for Nazis?”
“The shield….” The word trailed off, and I caught a soft sigh on the comm while Mauler did what Mauler did best: mauled things. I extended the telekinetic shield around Alistair so we could talk without fear of interruption by the zombots.
“I can’t take it down without channeling… the other,” he said, his frown more pronounced. I glanced at his gloved hands, then the side of his face. He hadn’t channeled that ‘other’ yet.
“If you start, can you stop?” He hadn’t been able to last time and had been on the verge of summoning creatures to end my world.
The furtive glance he gave me told me more than his words. “I should be able to,” he said. “Do you want me to do this or not? If not, we should retreat, now.”
He didn’t think he’d be able to, but I was right next to him. A sword through the heart would work swell, if it came to that. I nodded, and he breathed out a long breath. As he did, he let go of the illusions he maintained for public decency. Scars seemed to settle on the left side of his face. They were dark and raised, more like an alien being which had settled into his flesh than old, healed wounds. Though his hands glowed with that sickly green energy of his, wreaths of shadow tentacles came into being around his hands and forearms, disappearing right before his elbow. The words coming out of his mouth weren’t anything natural in the slightest. I gripped my sword with a tight, firm hand, wincing at the motion, but ready to cut him down.
Richter saw him. He whipped Adira’s head around so fast I thought it would pop right on off. Three things happened at once in quick succession. Alistair crumpled, kneeling on the ground and holding his head. He squeezed his eyes shut, shaking his head with violent motions.
“I can’t,” he whispered, only barely audible on the comm. “I can’t, I can’t, I can’t, I can’t….” He repeated that as he rocked himself, his private horror overwhelming him. When I’d seen him at the height of his power, he’s been strong and tall, confident, even brash and arrogant. That power had driven him mad seconds later, and he’d only barely come back from the brink. That had been what I was afraid of: he cracked, and was useless, a liability instead of an asset.
That I was relieved he couldn’t summon that power, whatever it was, was irrelevant.
The second was Richter pointing at Alistair and sneering. “This time, you die,” he said with Adira’s voice, the German accent sounding odd coming from her lips. He stretched his hand wide and a lot of that channeled energy flowed through it into a blinding red beam, so much like the smaller eldritch blasts mages generally used to fight. Except bigger. Much bigger. I grabbed Alistair by the collar of his long coat and tried to haul him up, except I knew it would be too late. I was fast, but I wasn’t that fast.
The last thing as the decimating beam shot out from Richter’s possessed hand was a shadow materializing in front of it. Rebekah screamed, “No!” She held her right hand, the new mechanical one, out in front of her as if she were warding off a beam of sunlight and shading her eyes. She marched towards the sorcerer, taking a few steps as the beam struck her.
Where it touched her new hand, it parted, splitting into blood soaked disco lights. I hauled Alistair up to his feet, watching awestruck as the Siren strode up to the shield, the beam falling all around her, shooting up and to the sides of her. A quick check mentally told me Wolf had jumped clear of the blast and squatted on top of a henge as the surrounding zombies, grass, and dirt were blasted by the sheer force of the enormous amount of magical energy Richter released. The Night Siren was untouched and, when Richter lowered his hand, Adira’s face curled into a hateful expression.
“My greatest gift to you, you stupid girl,” he said, “and you use it against me!”
“I didn’t want any of your ‘gifts’,” she said, her expression hidden behind her goggles and mask. The fury in her voice could not be contained. She reared her right arm back, “I am going to strangle you with your own creation!”
When she struck the shield, it cracked like glass, falling apart into shards and disappearing. The minions he had with him jerked as energy snapped back into them, but it didn’t cause Richter pause at all.
“Here,” I said, looking up to Mauler. “Take Alistair, get him the fuck out of here.” As I spoke, my words frosted and I looked around. Lee had done his job, sealing the area off from any zombies which might have survived. As I looked around the remnants of the undead army, which Erasmus was still mopping up, I noted they were all mechanically enhanced. I wondered if he’d done to them what he’d done to Lucius and Rebekah. An army of zombots which were immune to magic and protected against mundane weapons? It was mad enough that he’d try it. He had to go down.
Mauler lifted Alistair from my grip, and climbed a henge. He surveyed the area, then jumped away. All this took less than a few seconds, and I moved to join Rebekah. Some of Richter’s lesser sorcerers had taken the time to run, but a few tried blasting her with little effect. Her enchanted armor kept her safe. She reached for Richter and caught him easily being the superior hand to hand combatant of the two.
The Nazi necromancer wasn’t dumb, and didn’t attack her directly. Instead, he warped the ground, causing it to puddle and suck at her boots. She sank in an eyeblink and was up to her armpits in a heartbeat. He then changed the muck surrounding her to stone instead of earth, leaving her struggling by the time I arrived next to her. I couldn’t chip her out. She was strong enough to get out on her own, given time. The other mages weren’t the problem. They would capitulate if Richter was taken out. I had to do it without killing Adira, and, knowing my powers, he was prepared for me.
&nbs
p; I reached for him with both of my powers, forcing him on the defensive. As before, my teke didn’t touch him. My telepathy came up short as well, hitting a ward. I strove to touch him in either sense, pouring as much power as I could into the assault. With the telekinesis, the energy seemed to dissipate, though I knew that he had to expend concentration to continue to do so. The telepathic assault was more intricate, as they always were. The ward took the shape of sharp red crystals in his mind which moved when I tried to find my way through them. Instead of doing the delicate work required to go through, I imagined a sledgehammer and swung. The crystals shattered, slicing me as they exploded.
That was only the first layer. As I struggled with Richter, the fight continued around us. I would give you details, but my consciousness barely registered the creeping cold and gunfire around me. I was otherwise occupied in a red forest of lurking madness. The closer I pressed and the harder I fought, the more I felt his mind. Darkness encroached. The warmth of it clung to me like soupy molasses. A rotten smell clogged my nostrils, as horrible as the flesh he worked his dark magics with. Revulsion welled as I forced my way through his protections. After the forest, there was a deep red sea. After the sea, there was a box of metal, slick and cold, so on and so on.
As I said before, he wasn’t telepathic nor was mind magic his specialty. Delay he could, but deny me he could not. If he pulled energy away from protecting his physical body from my telekinetic assault, I would stake him. If that happened, he lost. Determination won the battle for me as I continued to put everything I was into the two-pronged attack. When I broke through the last barrier, my mental self was battered and bruised, but whole. Thought moved fast, faster than lightning. A flash of red entered my mind’s eyes as he attempted to defend himself.