Immortal Killers

by Stuart Jaffe

  “Forgive me.”

  “Crystal, don’t! We don’t shoot our own!”

  The weapon discharged a single shot. It slammed into Nathan’s thigh, knocking his leg back, forcing him into an awkward stance. He tried to move his leg, but Russo’s hold kept him still. That didn’t stop the searing pain from burning along his thigh straight up his spine and into the back of his head.

  “Good job,” Octavia said.

  “She shot me!”

  “In the leg. She moved her aim to save your life.” To Crystal, Octavia added, “We’re almost there. If you can move that much, he’s losing his power over you.”

  Tears still rolled down her Crystal’s face, and she sniffed at her runny nose. Her legs stuttered her body forward. She gasped as she moved toward Nathan. “He’s still got plenty of power.”

  “Fight it.”

  “How? What more can I do?” She placed the muzzle of her rifle under Nathan’s chin. “I don’t want to do this.”

  The muzzle pressed hard, but Nathan’s head would not yield. His pulse hammered. He couldn’t think straight. “Listen to me. Focus on my voice. Jake’s voice. Right? I sound like him because this was his body.” His mouth kept moving and words spewed out. “You care about him. That’s obvious. So, look at me, at him, and use that to stop yourself from doing something you’ll never be able to take back.”

  “I can’t.”

  “I remember when I was fourteen, and I lived with my dad and brothers in a tiny apartment in Jersey City. I don’t know if you know that city much, but back when I was a kid, it was a dump. At least, the part we lived in was. Trash on the streets. Sidewalks cracked with weeds poking through. Everything smelled like stale beer. I had a friend, Revi. His family was Hindu, and my dad didn’t get that. He wasn’t religious at all, but a Hindu might as well have been a Martian for all he could tell. Except his friends and his prejudices told him that Indian folk were smart, well-behaved, hard-working people. He thought Revi would be a good influence on me. I was a good kid already, but my dad always thought I was up to something. Probably because he got in a lot of trouble as a kid. But that wasn’t me.”

  “Keep talking,” Octavia said. “Every second gets us closer to surviving.”

  Nathan wanted to snap at her, tell her to shut up, that he understood his life hung in his ability to keep this story running, but he feared breaking out of the tale. It worked like a spell, and he had to keep it going because as much as Crystal concentrated on his words, her gun still pushed against his chin.

  “Once,” he said, and he heard a quiver enter his voice, “must have been a Saturday because Revi and I were at the mall and I never was allowed to go to the mall during the school week. Anyway, we went into a bookstore — they used to have bookstores in malls — and looked at all the different books. We edged our way to the magazines and tried to sneak peeks at the Playboys and Hustlers. Then we went to the section we really wanted to see — the comic books. I was a big X-men fan and Revi liked Moon Knight and Batman. We leafed through them a bit, and I said something about how I wish I could afford to buy the latest issue. Less than a buck, but I had nothing on me. Revi said, ‘You can always afford a five-finger discount.’ I didn’t know what that was, but I figured it out quick when I watched Revi take two comic books and stuff them up his shirt.”

  Crystal pushed the gun hard enough to lock Nathan’s head back. She puffed out harsh breaths as though she were in labor. Nathan couldn’t see her, but he felt her against his side — shaking as she fought Russo’s will.

  “I didn’t know what to do,” Nathan went on. He tried to keep his voice steady and calm, but the longer he had to keep the story going, the more convinced he became that she would kill him no matter what. “So, I did it. I slipped the X-men comic into my pants and we walked out. Nobody stopped us. Nobody said a word. I was shaking the entire time. When I got home, I threw it out. To this day, I’ve never read that issue of the comic. I felt horrible. Next day, I cut off my friendship with Revi, and you know what happened? My dad told me I was a bad person for doing so. He didn’t know about the shoplifting. He just thought I was being a bigot or something. That was the first time I really learned the lesson about judging books by their covers — the first time it really sunk in deep. And that’s the point about all of us immortals, isn’t it? Our bodies are like book covers. They don’t really portray the soul on the inside. We’re all different, and since many of us have lived through hundreds of years, our experiences are vast and that shapes us in ways the world doesn’t understand. On the outside, we look normal, but we’re not. That’s why we shouldn’t kill each other. We’re too unique.”

  “You’re right,” Crystal said. “But I can’t hold back any longer.”

  “No, wait, please!”

  “I really am sorry.”

  “Try harder. You can —”

  All three of them dropped to the floor. Nathan screamed out as his injured leg hit the hard surface, but even as the pain ripped up through his body, his training put him in motion. He rolled toward the nearest wall and aimed Maggie at the doorway. Octavia had propped up on one knee and held her weapon steady. Crystal, however, did not follow suit.

  She threw her rifle to the floor and backed away. Seeing Nathan and Octavia, she said, “Stop it, both of you. Russo let us go. We’re free. Why kill each other?”

  “I don’t want to kill her,” Nathan said. “But I’m not going to be free of one just to be forced into service of another.”

  Octavia said, “It’s not like that, and you know it. Where would you be if we hadn’t come in, rescued you from yourself, helped you understand what was happening to you? You want to know? It isn’t pretty. We’ve seen it over and over in others. That’s why Mr. Larkin started the group. The work we do for governments and all, that’s just to pay the bills. Our real purpose is to help those like us. Isn’t that what you said you wanted to do? Help people?”

  Crystal walked between them. “You aren’t helping anybody with this, are you? Now, put down your weapons, or I’ll pick mine up and pretend Russo’s still got control over me.”

  Though Nathan knew she wasn’t serious, he also knew she meant every word. Not that Crystal would start killing them, but rather that she would fight them into submission. Cautiously, searching for any betrayal, he lowered his weapon and watched as Octavia did the same.

  Nathan holstered his weapon and used the wall to get back to his feet. He limped over to the balcony. He wanted a breath of the pine air. What he saw turned his stomach.

  All of Russo’s army lay scattered on the ground in pieces. Heads dotted the earth like flesh covered stones while limbs and torsos had been tossed about as though they were sticks. The earth turned dark and muddy with blood. The fog of gunfire sifted across the driveway and around the cars. All the vehicles bore the marks of the battle — shattered windshields, bullet holes pocking the sides, tires flattened. Except one. A van had survived intact, though the body of one soldier hung halfway through the passenger door.

  Nathan stared at that soldier. He tried to comprehend what could have done such a thing. All during the fighting, he heard plenty of weapons discharging and a few grenades, but not once did he hear or feel an explosion that could have caused this kind of damage.

  Of course, he knew the answer. The Cardinal had decimated them all.

  Crystal let loose a short but powerful scream. Nathan did not need to turn around to know what he would find, but he turned around anyway. The Cardinal filled up the doorway.

  Dressed in the long, flowing red garb of his former office and wearing dark, circular glasses that reflected the lights, the Cardinal entered with deliberate steps. His footfalls clunked against the wood with heavy sounds that instilled fear the same way a grade-school principal could frighten grade-school students. He wore a wide-brimmed hat — flat top with a four tassels hanging at the compass points — and smoke drifted up from the numerous bullet holes on his body. His lips pulled back into an impossibly
wide, wolfish grin.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Octavia put a hand on her hip and shook her head at the Cardinal. Though she tried to appear calm and in control, Nathan spotted the shiver in her arm. “You got carried away out there, didn’t you?”

  He nodded.

  “You look like you’ve got control again. Is that right?”

  He nodded.

  “Russo took off. I want to go after him. I think he’s got too much of a lead, but you know I’ve got to try.”

  He nodded.

  She glanced back at Nathan but did not meet his eyes. “You have enough control to watch over these two? When I get back, we can take them home.”

  He nodded. Nathan fought to remain calm. Panic wouldn’t help. But being guarded by a rabid wolf would feel safer.

  Octavia brushed her cheek, but Nathan could not tell if she dabbed at a tear or swatted at a fly. With a shaky yet stronger voice, she said, “Okay, then. I’m trusting you. Don’t forget those bodies are important to us. To me.”

  The Cardinal turned his head toward her, but with his opaque glasses on, it was impossible to tell where he looked. After a moment, he motioned a slow nod. Octavia gave Nathan one final look — of pity or regret or what, he couldn’t tell — and then she left.

  The Cardinal walked to the side of the bed and turned his back toward Crystal as though daring her to dash for the door. Nathan had seen the Cardinal’s speed back on the island, so he stayed still. He didn’t know Crystal’s experience with this ancient, prime immortal, but the fact that she remained still too suggested that she knew exactly who they faced.

  When the Cardinal spoke, his voice rumbled deep but also had a whispered quality. Nathan swore he could hear two voices at once — deep and whispered simultaneously. “Hmmm,” the Cardinal said, and Nathan’s skin prickled.

  “We’re not your enemy.” Nathan’s thigh throbbed and blood flowed down his leg. “We only want our freedom.”

  “Hmmm,” the Cardinal said, and this time he sounded amused. “You know nothing about such a word. And the word knows nothing about such a thing.”

  Nathan looked to Crystal. She shrugged, even as she inched deeper into the room. Nathan figured as long as the Cardinal was talking, he wasn’t laying waste to them. “You’re right. I don’t know anything about freedom. But I want to learn. Don’t you? Larkin keeps you imprisoned in that building. Don’t you want to be free, too?”

  The Cardinal raised his arms, displaying his bare wrists. “I am not imprisoned.”

  “Not now. But you were. And you will be again.”

  “The little worm thinks it understands the universe because it has been immortal for a fraction of a fraction. Hmmm.” He moved faster than Nathan could blink — one second he stood at the bed, the next he stood directly in front of Nathan, the earthy smell of incense wafted over with him. One long, skeletal finger emerged from his robes, and the Cardinal tapped Nathan’s forehead. “Does the worm think? Can it understand? You fight for something you already have.”

  “My freedom? How am I free? I can’t get by you, and you’ll keep us prisoner until Octavia gets back. Then we’ll be handed off to Larkin. How is that free?”

  He tapped harder. “Little, little worm brain. So fresh and young and virgin to the thoughts of centuries. Think on the nature of time and you will one day learn.”

  From the shadows of the back corner, Crystal said, “He means your immortality. Because you can outlive any captor, you are always free.”

  The tapping finger lifted up. “Hmmm. The bird sings true.”

  Nathan tried to look around the room without being obvious. He had to find something to tip the situation in his favor. But every word out of the Cardinal’s mouth, every motion he made, every slow breath and drawn out Hmmm left Nathan feeling like nothing more than a mouse caught by a cat. Once the cat grew bored, it would kill him.

  “It has been more than two hundred years,” the Cardinal said, “since I have seen such a new face to the world beyond the mortal. What to do with such a rare opportunity.”

  Crystal lowered into a ball. “Please, you are the greatest of all of us. Please, don’t hurt us.”

  Nathan’s throat tightened. “Hurt us? Why would he do that when Octavia told him —”

  “Hmmm. The worm thinks I take orders. The worm will learn otherwise.”

  Nathan didn’t like the sound of that. In fact, every instinct he had fired off a warning. Not one to wait, he pulled out his semi-automatic, but as he brought it up to aim, the Cardinal took hold of the muzzle. The next instant, the weapon was gone, snatched out of Nathan’s hand so fast he didn’t feel it until a second later.

  “Oh, yes,” the Cardinal said. “I have never destroyed an immortal before. This will be fascinating.”

  “Wait, wait. What about the rules? We don’t kill our own. Right? We don’t kill our kind.”

  “But you are not my kind.”

  Before Nathan’s brain could wonder what “kind” exactly that made the Cardinal, he felt a concentrated blast in his chest. Punched off his feet, he hit the wall and slumped to the floor. His sternum burned as he gasped for air.

  Without looking up, Nathan lunged forward. He hoped to catch the Cardinal off guard. But with his bad leg and his burning chest, he moved like an elderly lady. He took a thundering blow to the back. As he went down, his head bumped the bed, knocking his neck backward, sending sparks in front of his eyes.

  Despite the ringing in his ears and the way the room spun, he caught a glimpse of Crystal dodging into the hall. Good for her, he thought. When he died, he could at least say that he saved one life.

  The Cardinal stepped toward the bed. “You move slowly.” Each footfall jangled Nathan’s aching head.

  Nathan shouted as he swung his good leg in a wide arc. He thought he would swipe the Cardinal’s leg and gain a slight advantage for a short time. When he came into contact, however, the Cardinal did not budge, and all of Nathan’s force reflected back into his own leg. The pain turned his warrior shout into a wracked, tortuous scream.

  The Cardinal lowered his head, hiding his eyes beneath the brim of his hat. “Not my kind at all.”

  At once, the Cardinal ripped off the leg of a chair and slammed it downward. If not for Nathan’s training, he would have died then. But he managed to push off the floor, rolling askew of the weapon, and then used his momentum to get back to his feet.

  His head swirled as he straightened, and his wounded leg buckled. He fell to his good knee. One glance at Crystal watching from the hall told him that she would not be of help. Together, they might have had a chance, but not alone. His one year of intense training held nothing compared to the numerous lifetimes the Cardinal had under his belt.

  The Cardinal paused, studying Nathan’s face, until a grim glint sparked in his eye. “You understand now that you had lost before we ever began.”

  Nathan nodded. He didn’t have the energy for more talk.

  “I wonder what is about to happen. In all my years, I’ve never seen an immortal die. Quite intriguing.”

  Nathan indulged himself with the image of Maggie blasting away the Cardinal’s chest, but he knew he could never move fast enough in this situation. It was over. He had lost. All that remained was the pain.

  It came swiftly.

  The Cardinal appeared at Nathan’s left and struck the kidneys. The Cardinal appeared at his right and broke the leg. Before Nathan hit the floor, the Cardinal thrust him back with a perfectly-timed uppercut. The Cardinal then raged upon Nathan’s body, throwing punches on top of punches. The breaking bones sounded like strings of firecrackers bursting in the night.

  Though Nathan could not fight back, the Cardinal was not done.

  He tossed Nathan across the room, bouncing him off the bed and into the far wall. He swept in, grabbed Nathan and whirled him back to the opposite wall. Nathan felt his broken bones tearing his flesh as the Cardinal threw him again.

  With only one eye able to see, Nathan
watched the Cardinal slow down. He approached Nathan, breathing heavily, and twisted Nathan’s shirt in his fist. “Hmmm. You take more punishment than a mortal, but you still die the same.” Reaching back first, he slammed his palm into Nathan’s chest, sending the broken body flying off the balcony, through the air, and onto the hard ground below.

  Nathan did not move. A wet wheezing accompanied every strained breath. He gazed up at the house and realized he no longer was inside. He felt nothing. His brain had shut down all pain-related information.

  He tried to lift his legs. They would not respond.

  Maybe he had done enough. While clearly not everyone participating in this game received a trophy, he had attempted to save Crystal and almost succeeded — that had to count for something. But the Darkness crept into the edges of his limited vision.

  He had tried.

  It had to count.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  The Darkness. It surrounded him. A hated enemy that had beaten him. A cancer upon every thought in his head.

  He wanted to scream out at the empty void — Why? What good did any of it do? Why was I spared the first time? Why bother giving me any power, if you only intended to strip it away? — but he had no voice.

  His throat felt scratchy. In fact, his whole body continued to feel numb from the abuse he had suffered. And he could still smell the pines.

  Strange.

  He braced himself for the cold loneliness. He cleared his mind and thought of Crystal. Maybe she had escaped. Maybe he had sacrificed himself for her. And Maggie.

  He thought of Maggie. She had been lost, stuck existing from day to day without any hope for a better life. He had helped her, too. Hadn’t he?

  And Paul Sullivan, too. The old man in the hospital welcomed him as Death. Nathan had relieved the man of his suffering.

  Instead of the cold, however, Nathan felt warmth. Not over his whole body, but a concentrated sensation on his cheek. Wet warmth.

  His right eye fluttered open to find a guard dog licking his face. The dog lay on its side and continued to lick with lethargic motions. Despite the pain shooting through his neck, Nathan lifted his head enough to see that the dog had bullet holes oozing blood along its flank.