Anne laughed. “No secret, Miss Verna. I just yell out the window that I’m headed here and they come running. Piece of cake.”
Verna laughed loudly at that, then gestured to the dining floor. “Y’all go ahead and sit. I’ll send Nell around for your order.”
“Thanks, Miss Verna.”
The place was almost full, despite being late in the day for the breakfast crowd. We crossed the floor and sat down at one of the last empty tables in the back. The tables and their benches had been made by hand a few decades ago by Verna’s husband, the rough cut boards dark and smooth from use.
Verna’s daughter Nell stopped by. “How you folks doing?”
She was about twenty, attractive and slender, looking just as Verna must have thirty years ago. Everyone who works at Verna’s Diner is family, either her husband and grown kids, or a seemingly endless parade of nieces and nephews who worked after school.
She recognized us and didn’t bother to hand out menus. The only one of us who hadn’t been here a dozen times before was Chuck, so I made him get what I was getting: Verna’s famous pulled pork sandwich, smothered in spicy BBQ sauce, served on top of a heap of her special hash, which was made with roasted potato cubes and more pork, all tossed with onions and peppers. Anne got the hash as well, but had it topped with a fried egg instead. There was a time when it would have been a poached egg white, but I think hanging out with me is corrupting her.
Nell went to put in our orders.
We watched the other diners and fidgeted with the silverware until I broke the silence. “Seems to me that we’re now hunting five things instead of one. Henry?”
“Sounds right. Four used thorns in the body and four empty planting sites next to it. There would have been five, but Paulie simply didn’t have enough blood to fill the sac on the last one.”
“Are you shitting me?” said Chuck. People turned to look, so he lowered his voice and leaned across the table, as if that were less conspicuous. “Seriously? There’s going to be four more of those things every time wooden Leon kills somebody?”
Henry nodded. “Or more. Depends on how large the person is.”
“Fuck me.”
“Excuse me?” Nell appeared behind us bearing a huge plastic tray covered in dishes. She slapped one down in front of Chuck.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean that. I mean, I did mean it, but I wasn’t talking to you.”
“Uh huh.” Nell unloaded her tray until everyone had plates and drinks in front of them, then stalked away.
“I think she likes you,” I said around a huge mouthful of spicy pork bliss. Chuck flipped me off. “So, if the thorns draw blood and create more creatures, why didn’t that happen with me?”
Anne snorted and said, “Probably because the god whose body you’re walking around in was called the Devourer, not the Donator. I doubt anything that wants to feed on you is going to have much luck.”
“That’s probably true,” said Henry. “But even though you appear to be immune, the rest of us need to be very careful when dealing with these things. There’s no reason to believe that only the Prime creature is capable of injecting these seed-thorns.”
Before anyone could reply to that, there was a crash from the rear of the restaurant. I looked back to see Nell standing next to an upside-down serving tray on the floor, a spray of food escaping from underneath it.
A man wearing a wife-beater under an open Lakers jacket had one arm around her waist and had pulled her against him where he sat at his table.
“Let me go, KC! Right now!” We could hear Nell clearly, even from here.
Leon jumped up and stalked towards her.
Henry looked at me. “You mind? That’s KC Bowden over there, the upstanding citizen who sent Paulie to the ER the other day. This might not be the best time for Leon to get himself arrested for assault.”
“Got it.” I stood up and followed Leon across the now silent diner. Anne was right behind me.
I reflexively clamped down on an anger that wasn’t there, just like I’ve tried to do every day since Belmont. That constant irrational rage that had been part of the original ritual, goading me into killing Piotr and using his sacrifice to power the beacon that summoned the Devourer. It had never been meant to last longer than the ritual itself, but once it had burrowed into me in 1944, it had remained for over sixty years. Only in the last couple of months had I been free of it.
But like one of Pavlov’s dogs, I couldn’t seem to break the reflex. But it was a good feeling to find myself in control without the struggle. I still got angry, of course, but at least now it was my anger. It felt cleaner somehow.
I reached the table and sized up its occupants. KC, the man holding on to Nell, looked to be in his early twenties. He was lean and muscular, and had a mustache that grew down the sides of his mouth to his chin. He was grinning into Leon’s face.
His friend was a giant and glared at us from under a knit cap pulled low over his brow. He tossed down his fork and crossed his massive arms over his barrel chest. He played the role of the silent, scary enforcer pretty well.
I started to speak, hoping that I could pull everyone’s attention to me and keep things from getting out of hand. So, of course, Leon punched KC in the mouth.
KC’s head snapped back and he shoved Nell away from him. He bounced up out of his seat and swung a vicious right hook that caught Leon on the side of the head. He was fast.
Leon took the hit and shuffled back a few steps. He didn’t seem particularly fazed by the blow.
KC’s mouth was bleeding and his eyes were wide. “You have some kind of death wish, motherfucker? You know who you’re messing with?”
If that was KC’s best shot at intimidation, he was in trouble. The last person you want to try and scare with your gang reputation is a Recon Marine with two tours of duty in Iraq under his belt.
“You’re the piece of shit that’s about to get his ass kicked for laying hands on my cousin Paulie.”
“That punk got what he deserved for sticking his nose in my business. What, now he’s too scared to come down and take a swing at me himself?”
He pointed his chin at Anne and me. “He has to send you and your girlfriends over here to do it for him?”
The gorilla threw a smirk my way, just in case I missed the part where KC called me a girl. I ignored him.
Leon said, “Paulie’s dead.”
KC hesitated, just for a second. “Good. I told him something bad might happen to him if he didn’t stay out of my face. Maybe you need to be careful that the same thing doesn’t happen to you and your little friends.” His eyes flicked to Anne. “Or something even worse.”
Anne’s face went hard. “You really don’t want to bring me into this.”
The big man took exception to the tone Anne was taking with his boss. “You shut your mouth, whore, before I find a better use for it.”
“Why, KC not enough for you anymore?”
“Bitch.” The man’s jaw and fists bunched up, and he started to surge to his feet. He was thick all around, and he carried some extra weight on his belly the way truly big men often did. Even though he was sitting down I could tell that he was tall, probably six and a half feet, and strong as a bull.
As those tree-trunk legs powered him upwards, I clamped one hand on his shoulder and slammed him right back down. “You need to sit this one out.”
He looked up at me, pissed and little shocked. He set himself to shrug me off and heave upwards once more, so I hooked one foot under the bench for leverage and bore down hard.
He collapsed in on himself, air and spittle exploding out of his mouth. His legs gave out and the two-inch-thick wooden boards underneath him snapped. He hit the ground.
KC spun to face me, eyes wide. “Back off!” He reached into his jacket.
If Anne hadn’t been standing exactly where she was, to the side and slightly in front of me, I would have missed it. In that split-second, as KC made his move, I could see the other Anne take ov
er. The one burned into her by Patrick in his zeal to protect her. The one with no expression and flat, cold eyes.
His hand was clearing his jacket and I could plainly see that he had a gun in it, some kind of chrome automatic.
Anne drew in a blur. KC froze in mid-draw, right eye staring directly down the barrel of Anne’s P250. I’m faster than any human being has a right to be, but I couldn’t have done it.
The atmosphere in the room changed. This was no longer a brawl, but something uglier.
A man sitting next to us screamed, “GUN!” and dropped to the floor. Everyone else in the diner starting yelling and crouching, or hunching over their children to protect them.
Anne and KC were statues as the panic broke out all around them.
Anne cocked the hammer of her pistol for effect. “Leave.”
KC slowly put his gun away and then flashed his empty palms at Anne. Then he turned and walked away without comment. I figured a man like that would normally have had something to say at this point, some bravado or attempt at intimidation, but the look on Anne’s face ruled that out. It was very clear that nothing existed for her now but the shot. She was unreachable.
His shoulder clipped Verna on his way out. I don’t know that he did it on purpose, but she was between him and the door and he had no intention of slowing down. She stumbled and fell into the hostess podium, toppling it. Both she and it crashed to the floor.
He kicked the front door open hard enough to shatter the glass as it rebounded off of the outside wall, and then was gone. We left the gorilla staring up at us from the floor, one hand clutching his shoulder.
Henry and Chuck joined us at the front of the diner, picking their way through the stunned customers. Henry’s face was a thundercloud.
Anne extended a hand to Verna to help her up, but Verna didn’t take it. Instead she stood up ponderously on her own and righted the podium as if Anne weren’t there with her hand outstretched.
I said, “Miss Verna...”
She cut me off. “I think it’s best if you don’t come back for a while. When that man starts looking for you, I don’t want him finding you here. While I appreciate that you helped Nell, the truth is that you turned an argument between her and her ex-boyfriend into open war. And that I do not appreciate.”
Ex-boyfriend? “I’m sorry.”
She turned to Anne, who was holstering her weapon. “I thought you were such a nice girl.” She shook her head as if wondering how she could have been so easily deceived. “Please, all of you leave. Someone already called 911, so the police are on the way. Don’t worry about your bill, just go.”
A man in overalls showed me his phone, 911 clearly displayed on it. He looked defiant, brandishing the phone like a weapon.
Leon looked like he wanted to slap the phone out of the man’s hand, so I grabbed him by the arm and hauled him out the door. The eyes of everyone in the diner burned into my back as we walked out.
Outside the diner, Anne shoved Leon hard in the chest, forcing him back a step. “What’s wrong with you? I can never go back there again. You know that, right? I liked Miss Verna, and now she thinks I’m the kind of person she can’t have in her place or around her family. Do you have any idea how that feels?”
Leon didn’t shout back. Instead his voice got low and even. “Anne, he was going to shoot someone.”
“Because you went up and punched him in the face! You do whatever you want, and to hell with everyone else. Just like you had to use the thorn and ...” She stopped.
Leon looked away. “And get Paulie killed.”
“That’s not what I meant.”
“Doesn’t change the fact that it’s true. I said it to Aunt Emily and I’m saying it to you. I killed Paulie. End of story.”
“You can stop trying to take all the blame, “ I said. “I gave you the thorn, and all three of us, you, me and Henry, agreed to use it.”
Chuck said, “Well, I didn’t agree to shit and I’m still having to deal with it. Maybe what we need is less finger pointing and more monster finding. How about that? What did Henry call it, Prime? Well, Mr. Prime isn’t going to sit still while we hug and cry in the parking lot. We need to get a move on.”
I looked at Leon. “You know it’s bad when Chuck is the voice of reason.”
“True.” He blew out a deep breath and pretended to look at the sky while he got himself together. “How about we drop Uncle Henry back at the house and then try searching the woods where they found Paulie. Maybe Anne can pick something up.”
I doubted that would do any good, but I didn’t have any better ideas.
We got back into the truck and started heading out of town. We were on a smaller street, just a few blocks off of Main. It was still the business district, as much as Halfway could be said to have a business district, which meant it was mostly secondhand shops and contractor supply stores.
Anne bolted upright in her seat.
“What is it?” I asked. She held up one hand for me to be quiet and kept looking intently out the window. A second later she spun and looked left. I turned my head in time to see a dark shape slam into the driver’s side door, rocking the truck on its springs. I hit the brakes.
An open hand slapped into the windshield with a solid crunch and the glass fractured into a white starburst at the point of impact.
Prime’s wooden face clicked against the driver’s side window, not six inches from my own.
He winked.
16
Leon’s doppelganger shoved away from the truck and ran. It took me a couple of precious seconds to fumble out of the seatbelt and throw the door open. By the time I was clear of the truck, Prime had a good fifty yard lead on me. I sprinted after him.
His wooden feet thunked dully as they pounded against the asphalt. He careened around the corner of the nearest building, heading away from the street. I was forty yards behind and gaining. Prime was fast, but not fast enough.
He swerved around a corner, behind a building supply warehouse. I slowed and made a wide turn around the corner to keep from being blindsided, but it was clear. Prime raced ahead, towards a fence that stretched across the alley between this building and the next.
I poured on the speed. Twenty yards between us now, and the wooden man had reached the fence. He leapt and hit the ten-foot tall barrier halfway up, then scrambled to the top and threw himself over. He landed gracefully, then sprinted away.
I didn’t bother climbing the fence. Without stopping, I jumped and cleared the top by a good six inches. I hit the ground on the other side and stumbled to a stop. There was no sign of Prime.
Neat stacks of lumber rose up all around me in steel racks, along with piles of brick and cinder block and long bundles of rebar. The place must have been closed for the day as there were no employees to be seen.
The chain link fence crashed like a cymbal behind me. I spun around and saw Anne and Leon pressed against the closed gate. It was secured with a padlock and chain, but one swift downward blow from Hunger took care of that.
“Where’s Chuck?”
“I told him to stay behind with Henry, just in case Prime doubled back,” said Anne.
“If he does, I doubt Chuck will be much of a deterrent.”
“To drive away, Abe. Not to fight.”
“Henry can drive.”
“Can he watch all sides of the truck by himself? Seriously, are you just going to argue with me until I go back and get Chuck?”
“Sorry. Just worried about Prime getting away from us again.”
I turned back towards the supply yard and let them come in behind me. Both had their guns drawn.
“I don’t see anything,” said Leon.
Something clattered to the ground ahead of us, on the other side of a tall rack of two-by-fours. I started to move forward, but Anne grabbed my arm.
“You know he made that sound on purpose, right?”
“Probably. I’ll go first, you two circle around the sides.”
“Y
ou want us to split up?”
Leon nodded. “Find, fix, flank, and finish.”
“Just like the manual says,” I said.
Anne looked at both of us. “This is stupid.”
I moved to the lumber rack. Anne went right and Leon went left.
A brick sailed over the rack towards my head. I leaned to one side and it cracked against the concrete.
I darted around the rack, but there was nothing there. A shot rang out to my right. That would be Anne. I started to run that way when another shot rang out to my left.
Dammit. Anne and Leon were thirty feet apart, separated by stacks of building materials. Which meant that they were shooting at separate targets, which meant that there was more than one bad guy in here with us.
The wooden man had led us into an ambush. Obvious in hindsight. I’d kick myself later if I got the chance.
There was a creaking sound behind me, so I spun around—just in time to catch an entire rack of lumber in the face.
17
The rack slammed into me and drove me towards the ground. Hunger saved my life. I wedged it between the metal frame and the concrete a split-second before it crushed me into pulp.
Even so, we’re talking about over a thousand pounds of tightly packed two-by-fours. Hunger should have just punched uselessly through the metal frame. Instead, the ends of the baton had flattened out to distribute the load enough to provide the necessary support.
I wasn’t dead, but the rack was pressing down on my chest, pinning me to the concrete. If Hunger hadn’t stopped it there, I would have ended up like a tube of toothpaste under a car tire.
This was the third time I’d seen Hunger change shape in response to my needs and each time the shape had been a complete surprise to me. It clearly wasn’t reacting to my thoughts, but instead making decisions on its own. I had no idea what that meant, but the thought of it being somehow alive gave me a chill.
As soon as the rack settled on top of me I heard the rapid clicking of wooden feet running on concrete. I craned my neck around in time to see a piece of steel rebar being thrust under the rack, missing my head by inches. It withdrew and then shot back in, this time much lower, hitting me in the ribs. Hard. I grunted in pain, but apparently that wasn’t good enough. The rebar was pulled back and then rammed back in even harder.
Liar's Harvest (The Emergent Earth) Page 6