The Green Lama: Unbound (The Green Lama Legacy Book 3)

by Adam Lance Garcia

  “You must and you will. I know you will,” the Green Lama said with a somber smile. The enhanced radioactive salts were already beginning to take effect, giving his eyes an unearthly green hue, electricity crackled from his fingertips. “You all might want to hold onto something.” He pressed a button on the side of the cabin and the hatchway hissed open. Air rushed out as the cabin depressurized.

  “I…” Jean’s voice became hushed as the air escaped, barely a whisper. “Jethro, I—”

  “And I, you,” the Green Lama said over the roar of wind, a warm smile that sent shivers down Jean’s spine. “I will see you soon, Ne-tso-hbum… I’m counting on it.” The Green Lama pulled the hood over his head, leaned back, and fell into the sky.

  CHAPTER 17

  AT THE GATES OF R’LYEH

  Blood covered the cave floor, the walls and his hands. The fight—No, Jethro corrected himself, it had been a slaughter—had lasted only seconds, a blur of motion and gore that left every member of the gang dead at his feet.

  “Om! Om! Vajra Guru Padme Siddhi Hum Hri!” Jethro murmured as he fell to knees, the blood running down his arms, staining his sleeves. He stared at the ring on his finger, finally understanding what it truly was. So this was power unlimited, the power of the gods, coursing through his veins? This was the price that came with it, the ability to kill without so much as a thought? A flick of his finger to break a man’s neck, a twist of the wrist to snap a man in half. He could topple cities in a day, countries in a week, and the world in a month. He was a man of unbridled strength. Was this what he was chosen to do?

  His entire body shook, less from the cold than his own terror. Bile rose from his stomach. He forced himself back to his feet and stumbled over the mess of bodies out of the cave into the unrelenting sunlight. He dug his hands into the snow and began scouring his hands, but the blood wouldn’t come off, it just didn’t come off. Shivering, he began pulling at the ring’s threads with his fingernails, but no matter how many times he tried, the ring wouldn’t unravel.

  “Gotama Çãkyamuni! O Wisdom that is gone, gone, gone to the beyond and beyond the beyond: Svâhâ…!” He looked toward the sky and screamed, “What have I done?”

  • • •

  As he fell through the air, the Green Lama watched the multitude of flying horrors draw closer, each creature more monstrous than the last. Closing his eyes, he began to whisper,” ate gate paragate parasamgate bodhi svaha!”

  He felt the wind whip around him, fluttering his cloak; sensed gravity tugging him toward the cold waters below. He could hear the whistling sound of the approaching monsters, could smell the salt of the sea air. He saw the clouds, the plane flying above; saw Jean standing at the hatchway. Chanting the Threefold Refuge, the Green Lama let the energy flow through his body and push down against the ground, shooting him past the plane, and toward the onslaught. A sonic boom shattered as he broke the sound barrier, the air vibrating around him. Green electricity crackled from his hands, energy sizzled from his eyes. He had the power of the gods flowing through him now and all he needed to do was aim it. But as before, this came at a cost, pushing his all too human frame well beyond its natural limits, and with each passing second he could feel the power quickly draining. He remembered the Rabbi’s prophecy. If he were to die today, let it be now, fighting to protect Jean, for it was within her, not the radioactive salts, that he found his strength.

  As the first dragon descended upon him, its claws reaching for his skull, the Green Lama threw a fist forward and shouted, “Om! Ma-ni Pad-me Hum!”

  And the sky erupted in green light.

  • • •

  “Jesus Christ,” Rick exclaimed, covering his eyes from the light. He looked to Jean. “Did you know he could do that?”

  “Buddy,” she said, patting him on the shoulder, “you don’t know the half of it.”

  Rick nodded somberly. “Well, let’s see if we can help him out,” he said returning to the controls with renewed vigor. “John, Ken. There are two turrets just past the cabin and I’m assuming that means there are a couple of very big machine guns attached to them. You two think you can shoot some of those things out of the sky?”

  “Think I can handle it,” Caraway said before racing out of the cockpit.

  Rick and Jean turned to Ken, who silently shook his head, his face turning puce.

  “Fine,” Rick said, tossing a thumb back toward the cabin. “Jean, you think you can—”

  “Way ahead of you, bucko,” she said following after Caraway.

  Rick pursed his lips in surprise and looked to Ken. “This is gonna get real rocky, real quick. Try not to throw up.”

  Ken crawled into the copilot’s chair. “Can’t promise anything.”

  “Wonderful,” Rick sighed.

  • • •

  The Green Lama ripped apart the dragon’s jaw, blood and bone splattering out. The creature howled in pain and fell limp from shock. Grabbing it by the throat, he spun it around and threw it toward three oncoming creatures, knocking them down toward the ocean. Something screeched in attack. Grimacing, the Green Lama wheeled toward an insect-like bat, its translucent wings beating madly. Clenching his fists, he sent out an incredible blast of energy, evaporating the beast’s abdomen.

  From behind him he heard the familiar whistling sound approach. Spinning around he found only sky. Suddenly, he felt something twist around him, squeezing tight, testing the strength of his bones. “Om! Vajra Sattva!” he cried, letting loose a massive bolt of energy from his body, instantly revealing a cancerous black snake wrapped around him.

  “It is no use to fight,” the flying polyp said telepathically as it continued to crush him. “We have conquered Yaksh and Tond, we have defeated the Great Race of Yith, and Earth too will fall and the Great Old Ones will rule again! What are you to try and stop Nyarlathotep? What are you to fight the will of the gods?”

  Gritting his teeth, the Green Lama tensed his muscles, focusing all his energy on his strength. “I am the Green Lama!” he screamed as he threw his arms out, ripping the polyp in half.

  As the creature’s carcass tumbled to the blue below, a massive talon grabbed the Green Lama by the head. The claws dug into his neck and shoulders, and dragged him through the air.

  • • •

  “Come on, you big ugly bastards,” Jean said, as she strapped herself into the ventral turret and aimed the machine gun at two giant insects. “Let’s play.” She squeezed down on the twin triggers and the gun erupted to life, filling the air with bullets and tearing the bugs apart until there was nothing more than black scraps floating down like a cloud of black snow. “Woo!” she shouted. “That’s how we play in Montana!” She looked up toward Caraway in the dorsal turret. “Hey, Caraway. I’ve already got two! What’s your count?”

  “That’s great, kid,” Caraway shouted back, giving her a thumbs up. “Don’t get cocky.”

  “Still haven’t popped your cherry?” she called back as she shot down a leathery dragon. “Don’t worry, your time will come!”

  Caraway bit back a smile as he fired after a flying polyp. “Sweetheart, trust me, you couldn’t handle me!”

  Jean laughed. “Like to see ya prove it!”

  • • •

  Gunfire rang out around him, ripping through the air. Blood and pieces of flesh rained down as the bullets tore through the dragon’s body. The creature screamed as it tumbled down to Earth, its talons refusing to release him. With the ocean rapidly approaching, the Green Lama focused all the power of the radioactive salts through his eyes, sending out two powerful beams of energy, disintegrating the dragon’s claws. Tearing out a talon still gouged into his chest, the Green Lama watched in muted amazement as the wound instantly healed. A blast of energy struck him from behind, sending him reeling into the plane’s wing. Rolling across the metallic surface, the Green Lama came to a sudden, painful stop against the side of the plane. Smoke emanated out of the wound on his back, his skin sizzling as it quickly healed, but not
hing stopped the pain. Driving his fingers into the metal, he pulled himself up, the sound of the propeller engine and wind nearly deafening.

  “Om! Namah Shivaya!” the Green Lama groaned. “Buddha make me stronger.”

  “I see you have unlocked the full potential of the Tibetan Tablet.”

  Whirling around, the Green Lama found a tall, tanned man hovering above him. The man smiled pleasantly as he crossed his arms. “It is humans like you that make me wonder if I have underestimated your species.”

  The Green Lama recognized the voice. “ Alexei?”

  “Come now, we know each other well enough now, Jethro,” the man laughed. “Call me Nyarlathotep.” He extended a hand and flames rushed out.

  • • •

  “Holy shit!” Ken howled as something rocked the plane, tossing him from his seat.

  “Goddammit!” Rick shouted as he fought to level the plane. “Jesus, Mary and Joseph, what in fuck’s name was that?”

  Straining his neck to look out the window toward the left wing, Ken’s mouth fell open. Clutching his chest, he turned to Rick as he collapsed into his chair. “It’s the Green Lama! He’s on fire!”

  Rick’s eyes narrowed as he swallowed the lump in his throat. “Oh, this is not good.”

  • • •

  Blocking the flames with his kava, the Green Lama wordlessly let it go to the wind. Then, raising the Jade Tablet, he shot a blast of energy from his fist at Nyarlathotep, which the unholy creature easily avoided.

  Nyarlathotep frowned. “Is that how you greet a god?”

  “You are no god!”

  “Aren’t I? Hm. Then what would you like me to be? A corrupt sheriff?” Nyarlathotep’s face cracked open, his skin rattling in waves as black bone and flesh rearranged into the familiar visage. “No, no… That’s too recent. It lacks the impact one would desire… What about a possessed young girl?” A thousand hairline fractures laced Alexei’s face as it transformed into the distinct, ravaged form of Desdemona Georgas, who had lost her life to the demons aboard the Bartlett. “Or does that failure sting too much, the wound too fresh? Why don’t we go with something a bit more comforting then?” Desdemona’s countenance broke open. “Why not the woman you love?” Jean Farrell said with a wicked smile.

  The Green Lama growled wordlessly as he launched forward, but Nyarlathotep was faster. He caught the Green Lama by the throat and punched him in the face, a strike that sent shockwaves through the sky. Blood trickled out of the corner of the Green Lama’s mouth, his eyes rolling back in their sockets while he struggled to remain conscious. “It has been so long since I have faced a worthy adversary, Jethro,” Nyarlathotep said, letting the Green Lama go as he shifted back to Egyptian form. “Let us make this an even fight.”

  Without hesitation, the Green Lama swung a powerful roundhouse kick, hitting Nyarlathotep square in the jaw. Turning with the blow, Nyarlathotep seemed aroused by the sensation. “My, that almost hurt.” Then, with a wolfish grin,” it me again.”

  When the Green Lama refused, Nyarlathotep grabbed the Green Lama’s left wrist. “I said, ‘Hit me again!’”

  Striking Nyarlathotep with his right fist, the Green Lama sent the demon staggering back, a deep black crack scouring the side of his tan face. Nyarlathotep touched the wound, in shock.

  “What’s the matter, Nyarlathotep?” the Green Lama asked cordially, smoke wafting off the Jade Tablet. “Can’t take a punch?”

  Nyarlathotep’s face twisted in anger. His fingers extended out into obsidian blades. Hissing, he leapt forward, swinging wildly.

  Anticipating the attack, the Green Lama flew up into the air. “Or, is it the Jade Tablet that you can’t handle?” he asked as he blasted Nyarlathotep with a ball of energy before swinging down and punching the ancient evil in the gut with his ringed fist. Nyarlathotep crumpled over, cursing in a forgotten tongue. “Tell me, Nyarlathotep, if you are truly a god as you claim, then why can a human bear the Jade Tablet while it cripples you?”

  “Insolence!” Nyarlathotep screeched.

  “You talk of prophecy,” the Green Lama said as he continued to strike Nyarlathotep with the Jade Tablet. “You kill innocents in the name of ‘god.’ Align yourself with the cancer of this era. You have hunted me and mine for so long, you, more than anyone, should know that I will fight to the death to stop you.”

  “Honestly, Jethro,” Nyarlathotep said, his body lined with black cracks,” hat is exactly what I was hoping for.” He caught the Green Lama’s next attack and violently twisted his arm out of its socket. The Green Lama screamed in pain and collapsed onto the wing. Grabbing him by the hair, Nyarlathotep lifted him up until they were eye to eye. “No more speeches, Jethro. No more games. We have a prophecy to catch,” he said, slamming the Green Lama’s head into the propeller. The blades shattered against his skull, metallic shards bursting out into the wind.

  • • •

  An explosion sounded off the right wing, shaking the plane’s very frame. A painful metallic screech and whine of a dying whale echoed through the ship.

  “Did you feel that?” Ken asked, his voice cracking as he struggled to tighten the safety belts.

  Rick bared his teeth in pain as he read over the dials. His hands wrapped around the controls, his knuckles bone white. “We just lost our right propeller,” he rumbled as beads of sweat began bubbling on his forehead.

  What little color remained in Ken’s face quickly drained. “What?!” he shrieked.

  Rick picked up the intercom. “All right boys and girls, play time’s over. Better come inside quick. This is gonna get real rough, real fast.”

  “What just happened?” Jean asked moments later when she and Caraway ran into the cockpit.

  Rick raised his eyebrows and scoffed. “Your boyfriend happened.”

  “We’re crashing,” Ken added weakly.

  “We’re crashing?!” Jean exclaimed.

  “We’re gonna crash?!” Caraway shouted.

  “What is it with this crew? Can’t seem to grasp the basic concept of gravity,” Rick grumbled as he fought with the controls. “I’m going to try and glide her in for a water landing, but won’t make any promises.”

  “Wait, what about Jethro?” Jean asked, her voice wavering.

  “Green Sleeves can handle himself,” Rick replied, though he sounded less than certain. He thumbed back toward the cabin. “Best thing you can do right now is strap your asses in and pray to whatever god you believe in. After we land—if we’re still alive—there should be an inflatable raft stored at the front of the passenger’s cabin. We’ll use that to get us over to Rye Land, or whatever the hell it’s called. Got it?”

  “Yeah,” Caraway said with a nod, turning toward the cabin.

  “They got him,” Jean whispered.

  They followed her gaze, watching as a tall, tanned man dragged an unconscious Green Lama by his hood across the sky.

  Caraway lightly placed a hand on Jean’s shoulder. “Come on, Jean. Let’s worry about saving him after— if we survive this.”

  Jean shut her eyes and nodded. “Okay,” she said walking out of the cockpit. Then, glancing back at the looming black island on the horizon, she whispered, “We’re coming for you.”

  The wind buffeted the airplane and the ocean rapidly approached.

  Creatures of indescribable horror began attacking from all angles, snapping the wings in half, shattering windows. Beaks and claws pierced through the hull, screeching alien voices echoing around them. Jean dug her nails into her armrest, her knuckles turning white as she watched the twisted, organic shape of R’lyeh tower above them.

  “We’re goin’ down!” Rick screamed over the loudspeaker. “We’re goin’ down!”

  “Hang on!” Caraway shouted.

  Ken sealed his eyes shut. “God, I hate flying…”

  “All right, Prometheus,” Jean said. “Here we go.” As the plane hit the water, she kept her eyes on R’lyeh, but all she could think about was Jethro Dumont.

 
The engines exploded and all was pain.

  CHAPTER 18

  ATTACK OF THE SHOGGOTH

  “Bodhisattva, what are you doing?” Tsarong asked as Dumont hurriedly tore apart his room, packing what few possessions he owned into a small knapsack.

  “Don’t call me that!” Dumont shouted, throwing his bag to the ground. “Don’t ever call me that again!”

  Taken aback, Tsarong stuttered. “I… Jethro, I don’t understand.”

  “This!” Dumont exclaimed, indicating the Jade Tablet bound to his flesh. The skin around the rainbow ring of hair was ripped and bleeding, as if he had been trying to dig the ring out. “I never wanted this! Any of it! I just wanted to find peace!”

  “But, Jethro… Destiny doesn’t ask us if—”

  Dumont threw a clay bowl to the ground, shattering it. “No! Do not speak to me of destiny! I don’t want to hear it! I’m just some rich boy forced into the games of the gods and I’m through playing!”

  Tsarong looked at his friend with pity. “Jethro, destiny does not give you a choice.”

  “That is where we disagree, Tsarong,” Dumont said, shaking his head. “And I have made mine.”

  • • •

  The ground reminded Gan of coral, covered in jumbled and intricate designs. Puddles of seawater and dying fish brought up from the darkest depths of oceans surrounded him, flopping mindlessly in the southern sun. A massive obsidian gate loomed over them; its surface etched with alien words and symbols, pictographs that put the human mind on edge. It was as awe inspiring as it was terrifying. The smell, however, was unbearable; it was all Gan could do not to wretch. A cacophony of maddening shrieks resounded high above them. Looking up, Gan shielded his eyes from the sun to find the sky filled with creatures attacking an approaching plane. A small green dot fell out of the plane before flying out to engage the unearthly creatures, ripping through them like tissue paper. A lump formed in his throat. It was Dumont, he was certain.

  “Do not worry, Herr Oberführer,” Heydrich said limping over, his wounded eye hanging loose in its socket. “Dumont might be a man of strength, but I can assure you, he is no match for the power of the Great Old Ones.”