Nightfall: Caulborn 5

by Nicholas Olivo

  “Nearly,” I croaked. “That was close.”

  “Are you all right, Vincent?” Galahad asked me.

  “Fine,” I replied. In truth, my arms were killing me. The wound from my Olympian-steel switchblade was taking forever to close, and the chronometer was still cinched uncomfortably tight around my wrist, though it was slowly returning to its normal fit. I glared at the message on its screen. I’d only heard Opening referred to as Apertus Energy once before, when Alexis had scanned me. The Tempus obviously didn’t want me taking the chronometer off, but why had he gone to such lengths? Was it for my safety or his own? I’d need to consider that later.

  “Where are the others?” I asked.

  “They’re dealing with the last of the vampires who attacked us,” Megan said, gesturing over her shoulder with her thumb. “They came right after the spear trap went off. Galahad and I held them off while Gearstripper and Jake cut through the spears, and then a second wave of them came while Gearstripper was planting the explosives to open this room.” Megan brushed a stray bit of hair from her face. “At this rate, I don’t think there are going to be many vampires left in Boston after tonight. Carmilla’s compelling them to suicide.”

  From the hallway, I heard Gearstripper call out, “Test your might!”

  “Huh. I bet the vamps are taking that in a much different way than Gears is intending it.”

  “What do you mean?” Galahad asked.

  I waved my hand. This wasn’t the time to discuss Mortal Kombat. “Come on,” I said. “We’ve got to catch up with her.”

  We went back into the hallway and found Gears and Jake standing amidst a pool of muddy water.

  “It is so convenient how we can clean up vampire remains with a wet-vac,” Gears chirped.

  I wouldn’t have put it past him to actually have one on Billy. But now wasn’t the time for jokes. “Gears, there’s a vent in that room,” I said, jerking my thumb over my shoulder. “Is it on your map, and assuming yes, where’s it go?”

  “Hmm. It looks like this one splits into a T-junction. One direction goes back the way we came, the other goes this way.” He pointed to a passage down the right.

  “She wouldn’t go back the way we’d come,” Megan said.

  “Agreed,” Galahad said. “Right, then.”

  We headed down the passage, our feet sloshing through an inch of dark water. Then the floor gave way beneath our feet, and we were falling.

  Chapter 18

  The five of us slammed into the ground with a splash. We struck in a dog pile, with me winding up on the bottom. My landing sent a spray of liquid flying up everywhere as the air exploded from my lungs.

  “Is everyone all right?” Galahad asked as we untangled ourselves from one another.

  “I’m good,” Gears said. “Billy’s exoskeleton is mostly titanium.”

  Jake gave a thumbs up.

  “I think I’m okay,” Megan said, rubbing her elbow. “Vincent?”

  “Give me a minute for my ribs to knit,” I winced. And to think, my arms were just feeling better after Carmilla’s last attack. Healing factor or no, after this one was over, I was going to down an entire bottle of Advil.

  Megan produced a flashlight from her pocket dimension. Evidently, the extradimensional runes the upyr were using didn’t affect it. Megan aimed her beam up, and the shaft we’d come down was visible. It was only a ten- or fifteen-foot drop, but the walls were sheer, and a hatch had closed over the opening we’d fallen through. Anti-portal runes were carved into the walls at regular intervals. Damn.

  “Sorry I missed that one,” Gears said.

  “Don’t worry, Gearstripper, it—” Galahad let out a yelp as he tried to get to his feet and fell back down.

  “What is it, boss?” I asked, kneeling down next to him.

  “I think I’ve twisted my ankle.”

  I put my hand on Galahad’s shoulder and sent a healing probe into him. Sure enough, he had a sprain. “Easy enough to fix,” I said, using a bit of kobold healing energy. That done, I helped the boss to his feet. He tested the ankle gingerly, then smiled at me. “Thank you, Vincent.”

  “Anytime,” I said. “Gears, where are we?”

  Billy’s eyes flickered again. “Crud, we’re off the map,” Gears said.

  “Can you send out some probes?” Megan asked.

  “Yeah… About that…” Billy fished in his pocket and produced a handful of shiny silver powder. “They didn’t survive the fall.”

  “All right,” Galahad said. “What direction was Carmilla’s lair in? Perhaps we can find a ladder or access hatch back up.”

  “This way.” Gears pointed straight to a wall. “So we’re going to have to go the long way round.”

  “You can’t do something explosive?” I asked. “Make a door for us?”

  “Vinnie, you can’t just haphazardly blow stuff up,” Gears said. “Billy’s optics tell me that these walls are part of the overall tunnel network’s support structure. I could blow out a wall, but the entire place would come crashing down on our heads.”

  “Ah. Never mind that, then. Maybe—”

  The sound of several somethings sloshing through the water toward us brought Megan’s flashlight around. Galahad produced his sword, and its light cast wild shadows all around the tunnel. Megan’s flashlight vanished, and a pair of 9mm pistols appeared in her hands. Three men and a woman, clad in little more than filthy rags, came running toward us. They had knives and broken pieces of 2x4s in their hands. Galahad’s sword flickered; the light coming off its blade was green.

  “They’re innocents,” he called out. “Carmilla must be compelling them. Give me a moment to try and break her hold.”

  The first man stabbed at me. I twisted out of the way and blocked an overhand swing from the woman with a 2x4. Galahad was kneeling behind me, praying in Latin. The woman lunged at me, and then went sprawling as a pair of bolas went whipping through the air and snagged her by the wrists. A second pair caught around her thighs and dropped her to the ground. Billy was next to me, a Taser appearing from his wrist, and Jake was holding a man under each of his massive arms, like a parent corralling a pair of rowdy toddlers. The remaining one rushed forward, and then suddenly froze in place. The two Jake held had gone still, and the woman Gears had bound had stopped thrashing.

  I glanced around. Galahad was still praying, but it didn’t look like the boss had done anything. I turned and found Megan’s eyes glowing white, her mouth compressed into a thin line. “You will not attack us again,” she said through clenched teeth. “You will tell me where Carmilla is and then you will go to sleep.”

  “My lady,” the four thralls said at once, “is in her chamber.” And then they fell asleep.

  Galahad ceased praying and regarded Megan. “Well done,” he said.

  Megan brought her flashlight back. Its beam shook as she swept the passage. “That felt”—she looked like she was struggling to find the word—“unnatural,” she finally said. “I was able to recompel them, undo what Carmilla had done.”

  “Your talents as a strigoi viu are manifesting,” Galahad said. “Mrs. Rita said this was going to happen.”

  “It’s one thing that I can tell other vampires to back off,” she said. “But being able to do this to normal people...”

  “Look on the bright side, Meg,” I said. “You’ll always be able to get a good table at a restaurant.”

  Megan glared at me.

  Way to go, Corinthos. I put up my hands. “Sorry, just trying to lighten the mood.”

  Megan gave me a forgiving nod, and we moved further down the corridor, pausing at a T-junction. I did a quick glance around the corner and cursed under my breath. “Psoglav ahead,” I said. “Four of them. They’re guarding a door, I don’t think they know we’re here yet.”
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br />   “What do you think?” Megan asked.

  “If we could lure them out, we might be able to ambush them,” I said.

  “What about another high-pitched frequency burst?” Gears suggested. “Drive them away?”

  “No,” Galahad said. “They’ll likely run to Carmilla and bring reinforcements. We need to deal with them here and now, while we outnumber them.”

  “Megan, do you have those capsules I gave you?” Gears asked.

  In response, Megan rolled her wrist and brought out three glass capsules, each the size of a multivitamin.

  “What’s this?” I asked.

  “Catstink,” Gears replied. “I figured this stuff would drive the psoglav crazy if we encountered them.”

  “Dungeons & Dragons logic comes to our rescue again,” I said with a grin. “Why didn’t you give Megan a probe, too?”

  Gears shrugged. “I didn’t know if Gizmatronic technology would be affected by her pocket dimension and didn’t want to risk it.”

  “Okay,” I said, “let’s do this. I’ll turn invisible and break those capsules at the other end of this T-junction,” I gestured over my shoulder. “That should pull the psoglav toward me, and give you two a chance to jump them from this position.”

  “Will they be able to smell it that far away?” Megan asked.

  “It’s super-concentrated,” Gears replied. “So you bet they will.”

  “Be careful, Vincent,” Galahad said.

  I tapped the kobold’s faith to vanish from sight. Then I slunk down the corridor, the dog-headed creatures conversing with each other in their own guttural language. If I was quiet, and continued moving at my blazingly fast speed of two inches per second, I should be able to break the capsules, and then, provided they really did have canine senses and affinities, the smell of cat urine should attract them like moths to a flame. I shattered the capsules and hastened back down the other way.

  It only took a few seconds before the psoglav began barking, snarling, and prowling, leaving their post. Then they broke and came tearing down toward where I’d broken the capsules.

  As they passed the junction where my companions waited, I realized that not all the psoglav had broken toward the catstink. One remained behind, snarling, but obviously possessing a higher degree of self-control than the others. Jake popped out of the junction, Sir Deathblow’s axe taking a psoglav in the back. The creature crumpled like it was made of paper. Gears was right behind Jake, his wrist laser blasting another psoglav in the back. The third that had been charging toward the catstink surged with the speed of panic and hurled itself around the corner to avoid more fire from Gears.

  And of course, it threw itself right into me.

  As it hit, I lost my concentration and turned visible again. The psoglav may not have been able to smell me over the catstink, but there was nothing wrong with its vision as it focused on me, its eyes glowing red in the darkness. It lunged at me, the metal teeth in its jaws snapping like a bear trap. I threw myself out of the way, narrowly evading the psoglav’s claws.

  Behind me, I heard Megan’s guns crack a few times, followed by a dog’s whimpering. My psoglav lunged for me again, its jaws snapping. My switchblade snapped out, slicing a deep cut in the psoglav’s torso, but the creature jerked away before I could get in a killing stroke. I hit it with a pulse of kobold fire, and as it flopped to the ground trying to extinguish itself, I drove my knife through one of its eyes. The psoglav bucked once, then went still.

  I wiped my blade on my bandanna and stowed my knife back up my sleeve before rejoining my companions. A giant portcullis, the kind of thing you’d see in a castle, had come down in front of the door the psoglav had been guarding. There were some splatters of blood on the wall around it, but I couldn’t see the last psoglav anywhere.

  “I missed,” Megan said, irritation in her voice. “The psoglav slipped as it was running and my shot took it in the shoulder instead of the head. It was able to get through the door and drop that.” She gestured at the portcullis.

  Behind me, Galahad, Jake, and Gears had joined us.

  “Jake,” Galahad said, “can you lift that?”

  “I’ve got it, boss,” I said, placing my hand on it. I Opened the portcullis, and the heavy obstruction slid up like an electric garage door before clicking back into place. I put my hand on the door and glanced at Megan, who held her gun ready and nodded at me. I Opened the door and ducked aside, anticipating an ambush.

  Nothing happened.

  Gears stuck Billy’s head around the corner. “No sign of that psoglav. It must’ve run on to warn Carmilla.”

  The corridor led us to a room that was covered in green tiles. Even the ceiling had tiles on it. “You know,” I said, pointing upward, “I always get nervous when I see tiles on a ceiling. I mean, why do they need to clean the ceiling like that?”

  “Here’s your answer,” Megan said, shining her light further into the room. A pair of old operating tables stood on the far wall, rusty medical equipment scattered across the floor. Piles of human bones had been collected and tucked along the edges.

  I closed my eyes. The bones were small.

  “When this facility was operational,” Galahad said quietly, “some unscrupulous doctors practiced unethical experiments on their patients. Some of the patients’ remains were never found.”

  “Until now,” I said. The metal instruments began to clatter on the floor as if they were caught up in an earthquake. The door we’d just come through slammed shut, and Megan’s flashlight went out.

  Threads of spectral energy began weaving through the air. Their color changed from blue to pink to red and back again, spinning through the room. They picked up the discarded medical instruments and began hurling them at us. I ducked as something that looked like a saw whipped past my head. Megan had produced a collapsible baton from her pocket dimension and was fighting off a scalpel. The baton reminded me of Kristin, a distraction that allowed a rusty scalpel time to cut across my forehead, narrowly missing my eyes.

  I yelped and rolled to the side, bringing up my switchblade. Flicking blood from my eyes, I prepared for another attack. The pattern of the spectral lights was familiar; I recognized it as what I’d seen in the Glimpse when Galahad had first met the Caulborn and had dispelled a bunch of angry child poltergeists.

  It looked as if history was about to repeat itself. A group of specters, the oldest of which couldn’t have been any more than ten, materialized ahead of us. Their features were demonic, their eyes glowing red, their ears pointed, and their lips peeled back in snarls.

  Megan was at my side. “I don’t suppose you have an ectoplasmic containment field in that pocket dimension of yours,” I said.

  “I’ll definitely pack one next time,” Megan replied.

  The boss was already kneeling, the point of his sword plunged into the ground in front of him. Waves of power pulsed from the sword, sending the possessed instruments back and knocking Megan and me to the ground. “I have had enough of crimes against children!” Galahad shouted at the ceiling. “Enough!” The spectral energy that had been attacking us shattered as if it were made of glass; the instruments fell to the tiles with a loud clatter.

  One by one, the poltergeists’ features changed, their visages going from demonic to angelic. Then one by one, they disappeared, until only two, a pair of young girls, remained. One of them, the smaller of the two, toddled over to Galahad, a look of wonder on her face. She looked like she’d had Downs Syndrome in life, which was probably what had gotten her thrown into a place like this. She put her arms out, and Galahad hugged her. They stayed like that for a moment, then the girl sighed and said, “I like you.”

  “I like you, too,” Galahad replied with a smile.

  “She’s not afraid of you,” said the other ghost, a tone of wonder in her voice. She l
ooked a couple of years older than the girl hugging Galahad, and had her spectral hair pulled back in a ponytail. “You must be a good person.”

  “I try,” Galahad said. “What’s your name?”

  “I’m Martha,” the older ghost said. “That’s my little sister, Fran.” Fran snuggled deeper into Galahad’s neck. If the boss was worried about getting ectoplasm out of his shirt, it didn’t show.

  “What did you do to them?” Martha asked, waving her arm to encompass the entire room.

  “Sent them home,” Galahad replied.

  “Home,” Martha said, looking wistful. “I came here to bring Fran home. The doctors told my parents that they could help Fran, that they could make her better. But when we visited, Fran didn’t seem better. She seemed sad. My parents said that it would take time, that the doctors needed to find the right treatment. I just wanted my sister back. So I snuck out of the house one night and came to bring her back.

  “The doctors caught me. They locked me down here with Fran. They put glowing stuff in our food to see what would happen. I got sick. I don’t know what happened to my parents. They never came to get us. And then one day, I woke up down here, like this.”

  Megan put a hand to her mouth. “A bunch of mental health facilities in the 1940s used to put radioactive material in patients’ food as part of an experiment,” she whispered to me.

  I ran a hand over my face. Christ, some people were sick.

  Galahad continued to stroke Fran’s back. “Martha, can you help my friends and me get out of these tunnels?”

  Martha’s face paled, quite the feat for a ghost. “There are bad things down here. Monsters.”

  “Can you show us where the monsters are?” I asked. “We can stop them.”