by Davis Ashura
“If you’re going to do something, do it now!” Jason shouted.
Through the windshield, Serena saw Kohl Obsidian. He stood directly athwart their path.
“We’re going to ram him,” William said. “Brace yourselves!”
The Scout swung left, wheels almost tipping into space and a long fall, before skidding to the right and hammering Kohl Obsidian. Serena heard a dull thud. The impact threw her about, and the necrosed roared. Her vision momentarily filled with stars when her head hit the side window. Aia yowled, and her sharp, little claws dug through Serena’s pants and shirt.
The Scout spun. The world twirled. Torn metal screeched.
The grill had been ripped off.
Kohl Obsidian held it. For an instant he stood illuminated by their fog-lamps and headlights. Though he’d been thrown to the ground by the impact with the Scout, he’d already regained his footing. He loomed impossibly massive and threatening. He glared a promise of death.
Serena had no time to think about Kohl. The Scout still spun, and he disappeared from view. The lake took shape before them. William straightened out their rotation and aimed the Scout at the water, still several hundred yards away.
The Scout slammed to a halt, throwing Serena forward. Pain from the whiplash shot up her neck and head. Again, Aia dug in with her nails.
Serena shot a look back. Kohl had grabbed hold of the tailgate.
“You will die,” Kohl promised. His voice rattled like mangled metal.
The Scout unexpectedly lurched forward, rolling free, straight toward the water. The tailgate had been ripped off its hinges. Kohl swung it like a club at the Scout. The impact sent their vehicle skidding.
*I hate this!* Aia cried.
Jason cursed floridly as he was slammed about. His seatbelt had come unfastened. “Drive better!” he shouted.
“If you want to take the wheel, be my guest,” William yelled as he brought the Scout back under control.
“How much farther?” Jason demanded.
Serena noted that he’d managed to buckle himself back in his seat.
“Close. A hundred yards,” William answered.
Somehow, they once more faced the lake, with Kohl behind them. Serena twisted about in her seat until she faced backward. Kohl sped after them. He couldn’t be evaded this time.
Serena murmured a prayer and breathed deep. She imagined her fears leaving her, and her clenched jaw relaxed. The tightness in her chest eased as the fear faded to the back of her mind. Once more, she could think clearly.
And she knew what was required.
Serena pulled out the Colt 1911 pistol she’d picked up in Las Vegas and stared down the barrel at the necrosed. He kept pace with them, holding aloft the broken tailgate, like a monstrous caveman holding his club.
Serena braced herself. The handgun she’d chosen had a powerful kick. She took a steadying breath. Aiming proved difficult with the Scout shifting and shimmying around so much, but there came an instant when Kohl held still in her sights.
She exhaled and squeezed off a round.
Serena slammed back, and her ears rang. The pistol sounded like a bomb going off in the confines of the Scout. Even braced, the recoil was brutal. Serena had almost dislocated a shoulder trying to keep the pistol from smashing her in the face.
Aia yowled. *Warn me next time you hurl thunder!*
“What the hell?” William shouted, clutching the side of his head.
Serena ignored her aching ears and aimed again, ready to ride the recoil this time. She fired another shot. Another. Her shots came more smoothly, and she managed to hit Kohl in the torso. She smiled when the necrosed roared.
“Almost there,” William said, sounding far calmer than Serena would have expected.
Serena set herself for another shot. It would have struck, but a wave of Kohl’s hand blocked her bullet.
Jason took advantage of the creature’s distraction and let loose with a blast of fire and wind. The necrosed slowed to veer and dodge Jason’s assault.
Serena loaded another clip into her Colt and readied herself. They drew closer to the lake. She could sense it. William’s focus was entirely on his driving. Jason continued to hurl fire.
Kohl threw the tailgate at the Scout. The blow lifted the back wheels off the ground.
Serena grunted when the Scout slammed down.
Black lightning ripped from the necrosed’s hands, and the right rear tire blew.
William wore a rictus of desperation as he sawed at the wheel. “We’re going to hit!” he shouted as the Scout refused to turn. The nose of the truck aimed straight at a small embankment on their right.
Serena didn’t pay the oncoming crash any attention. She returned to Kohl Obsidian. Once again, she calmly squeezed off a number of rounds, and again, a wave of the necrosed’s hand swept aside her bullets.
The Scout rolled partway up the embankment before William could correct their path. The vehicle slipped and swerved in the mud. The fog and the rain . . . A plunge down a shallow incline, and there lay the lake.
The world went crazy. Up became down. Kohl had grabbed the rear bumper, lifted the vehicle, and hurled it forward.
Jason slammed into the roof while William cried out in pain. Serena braced herself, and Aia dug with sharp claws.
The vehicle landed in the water upside down, in the shallows where the lake was only a few inches deep. It came to a halt a few yards from shore.
William groaned. It felt like a mule had kicked him in the head. Where was he? Memory returned. Kohl. The saha’asra. With a surge of fear, he struggled to free himself of his seatbelt. Cold water filled the roof of the Scout for a level of a few inches. William fought to make his panicked mind and his stiff hands work. He couldn’t seem to form a coherent thought, and the seatbelt wouldn’t release.
The necrosed stood by the shore, illuminated through the fog and mist by the Scout’s headlights. He seemed reticent to enter the water, but his hesitation likely wouldn’t last much longer.
*Hurry.* Somehow, Aia had survived the tumult of the Scout being flipped end-over-end without an injury. *There’s a battle to be fought, and that dead thing won’t stay on the shore for much longer.*
William didn’t need her urging. He grunted, mashing the seatbelt release, but it wouldn’t come loose.
Serena appeared, startling him as she crouched down by his side, still within the Scout. She held a Bowie knife. “Hold still,” she said, her voice calm and with no hint of fear. “When I cut through the seatbelt, you’re going to fall,” she explained. “Brace yourself or your head will smash into the roof. Ready?”
William gripped the steering wheel and nodded.
With a single slice of her Bowie, he dropped free. He caught himself before he dropped on his head, and scrambled upright.
*Let’s go,* Aia growled.
“Climb out of the Scout on my side,” Serena ordered. “I’ve already got my door open. It’s the one farthest from the necrosed.”
William clambered out and immediately slipped. He grabbed the door handle and managed to stay upright. His thoughts remained scrambled, and he had no idea how Serena was keeping it together because right now, he was almost overwhelmed with panic.
*Don’t forget Jason,* Aia called out.
William spun about. Jason remained trapped in the back, working frantically to open one of the doors.
“Just blast it open,” Serena said. “Use your fire or wind. Hurry up.”
The fear momentarily left Jason’s eyes, replaced by chagrin. With a gesture, the passenger side door slammed open and he scrambled out of the Scout. He, too, slipped and stumbled, and William steadied him.
“Thanks,” Jason said. “What now?”
They stood behind the bulk of the vehicle, a slender bulwark between them and Kohl.
*The anchor line,* Aia advised. She sat on the upside-down Scout, her gaze focused on Kohl Obsidian. *A wise warrior retreats when necessary, fighting only when no other option rem
ains.*
“Anchor line. Right,” Jason said. “I need some time.”
“You’ll have it,” Serena promised.
William’s mind finally caught up with what had just occurred. All their blades were in the back of the Scout with the rest of their belongings. He hustled to the rear of the vehicle, reaching through the ripped-apart tailgate to grab their weapons. Thank God they’d tied them down. He tossed Jason and Serena their swords before unsheathing his own.
He immediately felt better.
Aia eyed him in approval. *Much better to fight as the lion than to die as the mouse.*
“Hurry up, Jason,” Serena said. “I think he knows what you’re doing.”
“I’m going as fast as I can,” Jason snapped.
“Well, go faster.”
The blood drained from William’s face when the necrosed took a hesitant step into the water. “He’s coming into the water.”
Kohl stepped gingerly, a mincing, fearful gait. The water bubbled with every step he took, becoming black like tar. He grimaced in pain. “The water won’t stop me, boy. You’re mine,” he promised. “I’ll feed upon you, and with your lorethasra, I’ll heal. There’s no escape for you this time. No tricks or animals to save—”
Serena interrupted him with a shot in the chest. The necrosed tumbled backward. She shot him again. Another shot. Kohl barely managed to keep himself from falling.
“I’m sorry. You were saying?” Serena asked with a smirk.
Aia sniggered. Even William chuckled.
Kohl rose to his full height. Serena again aimed and fired the Colt, but an imperious gesture from the necrosed scattered or halted the bullets. “No more games,” Kohl said. He continued his methodical advance.
“What’s taking so long?” William demanded of Jason. He tightened his grip on the sword.
“It keeps slipping away.” Jason said in obvious frustration. “I don’t know what’s wrong. It shouldn’t be so hard—” He paused and shot a horrified gaze upon the necrosed. “He’s doing it! He’s blocking me.”
Kohl chuckled, a grim, woodchipper sound. “Foolish little asrasin. You cannot escape me.”
“I can’t lock onto the anchor line so long as he’s doing whatever he’s doing.”
“Then we distract him so he can’t keep blocking you,” William said. His words sounded far braver than he felt. Right now, he wanted to run away from here, flee as far as possible from the horror of Kohl Obsidian. Instead, he moved in front of the Scout, and Serena stepped up next to him.
The necrosed laughed at their show of defiance. “Good. You come to me then, and hasten your doom. I will—”
Aia growled. *Shut up, you walking bag of pus.*
Kohl paused, clearly startled. “Who said that?
*The one who has called your doom.*
“Is that the kitten?” Kohl asked. “How?”
Aia lashed her tail. *Come closer, and I’ll whisper the answer in your ears.*
William glanced back and forth between the two of them. The situation would have been hilarious if it wasn’t terrifying.
The necrosed shook off his confusion. “No matter. I’ll tear her apart, too and all her secrets will be mine.”
“Then come and claim her,” Serena challenged.
William took heart from her words, and his spine stiffened. The necrosed halted. Once again, his head tilted to the side as though in thought. Then, with a burst too fast to evade, he was on them.
William got his sword up in time to block a hammer- blow. He expected the blade to bite into Kohl’s flesh. Instead, it hit with a hollow clang, like he’d struck an aluminum baseball bat. What was that thing made of? William fell back from the rebound of the blow, slipping again in the slick footing.
Serena ducked a swipe. Her return cut sliced Kohl across the stomach. But he showed no evidence that it hurt him.
William briefly wondered if there was any way they could more deeply wound the creature, but he had no time to ponder. He slipped another blow, twisting aside before snapping off a front kick. It caught Kohl in the solar plexus, and the necrosed’s breath whooshed out. He stooped over, gasping.
Serena aimed a strike at his neck, but Kohl dodged her blow.
The necrosed stumbled away. William leapt toward him, launching a flying knee. His blow crunched into the creature’s face.
Kohl grunted in pain and fell back. He shook his head as if clearing cobwebs and grinned. “Well done, boy. It seems I perfected you more than I intended. But you are no holder.”
“Damn it! I almost had it,” Jason screamed in anger.
Aia, ferocious and furious though her words had been, had wisely stayed out of the fight. *Not much longer,* she said. *He’s coming.*
Who’s coming? William wondered.
“Enough. I weary of toying with you,” Kohl intoned. “This battle ends now.”
The headlights from the Scout lit the gloom, and shadows twisted and twirled. Kohl stepped forward, and the fog and mist snaked about his bulking form. No longer did he act as if the water hurt him, though it still bubbled and blackened with every step he took.
William strode forward to meet him.
“Your little toy sword cannot harm me,” Kohl said.
William didn’t listen. He aimed a strike at the necrosed’s chest.
Viper fast, the creature dodged. He swayed away from Serena, too. Before any of them could stop him, he reached an unprepared Jason. The necrosed hurled him through the air. Jason splashed into the water, tumbled out of control before finally sliding to a halt five feet onto shore.
William pressed forward. He struck at the creature’s unprotected back, but impossibly, Kohl slid away before gliding inside William’s guard. The creature grinned, and William reversed his sword. He struck with his hilt, but Kohl leaned aside. The necrosed raised his fist, ready to smash William to a pulp.
William had no chance to block or evade. This was it. He was going to die.
The necrosed howled in pain.
William stumbled away.
Aia had clawed the necrosed’s face and darted back to the Scout before the creature could touch her.
Scratches marred Kohl’s hideous face, and he glared at Aia. “You will die.”
*Only if you can catch me.*
“Oh, I’ll catch you,” Kohl promised. “And I’ll eat you slowly.”
Serena attacked, but the necrosed shifted. He shoved aside her sword and grabbed her by her shirt. As with Jason, he flung her through the air. She would have crashed to the ground, but Jason had regained his feet. With a gesture, Serena’s flight halted, and she dropped down next to him.
William swallowed. He stood alone before Kohl.
“Now it’s only you and me, boy,” the necrosed said with a mocking smile. “No one can help you now.”
A flicker of William’s ever-present anger flared to life, extinguishing any remaining fear. He smiled at Kohl, readying his sword. He gestured. “Come on, ugly. You’re boring me.”
“Your anger won’t save you,” Kohl taunted. “I know it well. I gave it to you last winter.”
*He’s here.*
William didn’t know who Aia meant, but a rainbow bridge opened on the far side of the Scout. His heart lifted. Mr. Zeus!
But the person who stepped across the bridge wasn’t Mr. Zeus. He wasn’t anyone William had ever expected to see again.
“Landon?”
William’s brother stood before him, leaner, bearded, and with unkempt clothes and hair, but otherwise, the same except for the vacant expression on his face.
Time ground to a halt. Even the raindrops hung suspended in the air.
“Landon?” William asked again.
His brother continued to stare at him, unseeing, focused on something else. Expressions flitted across his face like a silent argument. The timeless moment passed, and Landon shook his head. “Didn’t expect to see me again, did you?”
It took William a second to realize Landon wasn’t talkin
g to him. His brother spoke to Kohl.
“I was sloppy when I tried to kill you before,” Kohl said. “I won’t make that mistake twice.”
“Pilot Vent,” Landon said. “You remember him, don’t you? He remembers you.”
Kohl edged back, unexpected fear flashing across his face. “Pilot Vent is dead.”
“Yes, he is,” Landon agreed, “but not before he helped create me. You helped create me. You were kind enough to bring Pilot back to life, and I wish to thank you for your gift.”
Landon leaped into the air. He cleared the Scout with ease and landed in front of the necrosed. A whip-swift punch hurled the creature toward shore.
“We must fight,” Pilot Vent commanded from within the vaults of Landon’s mind. “It is why we are here, why that strange cat called us to this place. It is what is meant to be a holder: to fight evil and defeat it wherever it is found.”
Landon tried to ignore Pilot, but it would have been easier to disregard a scream directed into his ears.
“My name is Landon Wilde.”
“And I am Pilot Vent,” the voice stated.
“Landon?”
Landon’s attention shifted to the boy, the one who seemed so familiar. Who was he?
Landon’s memories, his sense of self was fragmented and unreliable. He remembered little of his past life. Family, friends, happy occurrences—all were gone. He only knew for certain that a year ago Kohl Obsidian, a necrosed, had smeared his blood upon Landon’s forehead, blessing him with an unholy baptism.
That marking, even now visible as a black streak that lingered like a tattoo, had done something else, something unexpected. Rather than simply set the necrosed’s ruinous lorethasra into Landon’s bones and essence, the blood had brought with it the remnants of Pilot Vent, the holder who had been transformed into Kohl Obsidian.
He, too, had a mind riddled with lacunae of memories and knowledge, but Pilot remembered enough. He had been the one who had thrown off Kohl’s poisoned lorethasra, allowing both of them to survive.
“You know what we must do,” Pilot said. “Apart we are but a shadow of a man, but together, perhaps we can make something of this tragedy.”