The Veil: Corruption (HASEA CHRONICLES BOOK 2)

by Stuart Meczes

  Guess it’s the hard way.

  I stuffed the gun into the waistband of my trousers and rubbed sawdust on my hands for grip. Wrapping my hands around the pipe, I locked my fingers together and pressed my feet to the wall.

  Here goes.

  Shimmying like a monkey, I edged myself up the drainpipe. The climb was far from easy. The rain had made the pipe difficult to grip, and a few times my hands slipped on a wet spot, and I was saved either by sheer luck or a well-placed heel in the wall. I forced myself not to look down as I climbed higher, teeth gritted together in determination. In my mind I imagined Rogues shouting and pulling me down – or worse – shooting and letting me fall to my death.

  But the shouts never came.

  I reached the guttering just below the roof and inched my head to the left. The open window now seemed much further away. Unable to stop myself, I looked down at the ground and vertigo washed over me. I groaned. It was so far away, I might have been scaling a skyscraper. If I fell, it was game over. I felt my chest tighten and pressed my forehead against the drainpipe.

  I can’t. I can’t.

  A sound of pure agony came from inside and punched through me until it met bone. I’d heard it in my memories, and it was a sound that I would have paid with my life never to hear again. Gabriella in pain.

  Determination replaced the cowardice, and I pushed off the drainpipe towards the window. My hands grabbed the guttering and my knees hit the wall hard as I jerked to a halt, sending shooting pains up my legs. Ignoring the throbbing ache, I dug my feet into the wall and shimmied to the side, one hand at a time, until I was perched over my bedroom window.

  With the grace of an elephant I dropped onto the windowsill.

  My foot slipped.

  I fell backwards, only saving myself with a reflexive reaction that had me grab onto a fold of the curtain. It went taut, and I heard the loud pops of the bindings as they pinged loose, but it held. I pulled myself towards the window and used the curtain to lower myself into my bedroom. It was dark and empty, but I knew it wouldn’t be for long. If I had heard the sound of the curtain hangings ping loose then it was guaranteed that any SOS on the same level had too. I shrank behind the bed and pulled the gun free. Thank god I picked a weapon with a silencer setting, I thought as I twisted the end of the barrel and a dampener clicked into place.

  Seconds later I heard the sound of footsteps on the threshold to the room. The harsh breathing was followed by the acrid stench of Bloodseeker breath. I could almost feel venom-infected teeth piercing my skin, and I shuddered. The bed sagged as the intruder stood up on the mattress. Trying to control my breathing, I replayed over and over what I would do. Do not get this wrong, Alex.

  I stood up as the creature bore down on me and without hesitation fired a shot. The sound from the muzzle was as loud as a sheet of paper torn in half by lightning-quick fingers. My hand snapped back from the recoil, but the point-blank range meant that the bullet still met its target. The Bloodseeker coughed and clutched at his throat – eyes wide – before they rolled up into his head.

  I tried to catch the creature as he fell, but he was too heavy, and he brought me down with him. We both hit the mattress and the surprised squeak of a dozen bedsprings rang around the room. I heard voices on the landing and swore under my breath.

  Rolling off of the bed, I tiptoed over to the doorway and hid in the narrow space between door and wall. A moment later, I saw the back of a blood-red robe as it swept into my room. The figure approached the bed with caution.

  “Garrius?” said an unsure voice, and I took that as a cue, slipping out of my hiding space and pressing the gun right to the back of the Rogue’s hooded head. It spun around so fast that by the time I pulled the trigger, the round buried itself into forehead instead of back of skull.

  The shocked face belonged to a female Bloodling. She collapsed backwards, draping over her fallen comrade in a cross shape. I stuffed my trembling hands into my pockets and pulled out a mound of sawdust. As quickly and as quietly as I could, I sieved it through my fingers around the edges of the bed and up on the mattress until a rough ring had been created around both Rogues. When I was done, I checked my sawdust stash. I still had an entire pocketful, and what I had used was more than enough to prevent them from joining the fight when they finally came round.

  I knew that it wouldn’t be long before the third Rogue on the landing came to see what was taking the other two so long. So I crept towards the door and peered out. The intruder was standing guard at the top of the stairs, back towards me. I crouched down and tiptoed forward. Each movement set my teeth on edge. I knew that even the smallest creak of a floorboard would be enough to draw its attention. I prayed that there would be no sound.

  My prayers were answered.

  I rose up and pressed the gun to his left temple, pushing him sideways with all my strength as I fired. What I hoped would happen, happened. The unconscious body – I didn’t stop to check what species he was – collapsed over the landing’s bannister like a drying towel. I crept forward, eyes scanning every nook and cranny of my house as I headed for Mikey’s room. Downstairs I could hear the smashes, cracks, and grunts of an epic battle taking place. I didn’t allow myself to think for more than a split second that any of our side could be seriously hurt…or worse. It didn’t bear thinking about. Plus I had to focus on staying alert or I would be that person, no question.

  I passed by Mum and John’s room, checking through a crack in the door for any Rogues. It was empty. I crept on until I was standing outside Mikey’s room. The door was closed.

  Crap.

  I considered my options. Both were bad.

  One: barge in and take out any unsuspecting Rogues inside, but risk drawing attention from any SOS within earshot downstairs.

  Two: Go in quiet and slow, which would avoid alerting the masses, but leave me a sitting duck if there were any intruders in the room.

  I decided to go with option two.

  Pressing against the door, I inched the door handle down, wincing at every creak it made as the latch retracted. I gingerly nudged open the door a few feet and peered inside.

  Empty.

  Letting out a breath I didn’t realise I was holding, I slipped into the room and pushed the door to. Kneeling down by Mikey’s wardrobe, I carefully removed a few bags and shoes from inside and then felt around for the release switch. I heard the dull click as the secret compartment came open. Inside the cubby hole was his bulging holdall. I almost wept with joy. Yes, oh thank you, god.

  I unzipped the bag and pulled out what I needed. A Kapre belt, which I loaded with guns and knives, a pouch of boosters, and the Crimson Twins. I removed one of the swords before shrugging the dual scabbard over my shoulders. It was far heavier than I remembered, and my skinny muscles strained against the weight.

  I added the stun gun to the rest of the loadout and then wrapped the belt around my waist, clicking it into place. The equipment weighed me down and made my movements sluggish, but I knew it was that or certain death.

  I considered hitting the camouflage switch on the belt, but wasn’t sure what it would do for a human – if anything. I shrugged. Can’t do any harm. I pressed the button and heard the hum as it activated. Then, clutching the blade with both hands – which made it more manageable – I left the room and crept down the stairs. The yells and screams grew louder. I recognised one of the cries of pain – it was Mikey. The sound made me shudder, and I moved as quickly as I could. As I made the corner, I almost tripped down the stairs in shock. A hulking Skinshifter was patrolling the hallway. Its huge paws thudded on the hardwood floor as it walked, black fur brushing against the sideboard and walls. I lifted the sword with both shaking hands. The Skinshifter snorted and stopped, turning its burning eyes towards the stairs.

  And stared right at me.

  I froze to the spot, sword poised above my head like a woodcutter’s axe. The beast made a guttural sound and started to stalk up the stairs towards me. Its teeth
were bared and long strands of saliva splashed down onto the wood. I sank back, retreating one step for every one it advanced. My pulse was screaming in my ears and the weight of the weapon was bearing down on me like the Sword of Damocles. I knew that if it pounced, there was about a point two percent chance I would survive. But the creature didn’t attack. Instead it sniffed the air and kept releasing the bassline growl from its throat. It was staring hard at me, as if unsure about what it was seeing.

  Why isn’t it attacking?

  The answer was painfully obvious. The belt. I remembered the Black Tap mission and how the punters in the bar had pretty much left us alone until we made our presence known. I realised something similar was happening here. The Skinshifter could smell a threat, but it couldn’t quite see one.

  An arbitrary decision had saved my life. For now at least.

  I reached the top step and shrunk around the corner onto the landing. The creature’s growling grew fiercer and louder as it drew closer. It was nearing the end of its investigation.

  I held the sword as high as I could and waited until the creature turned the corner after me. My heel met a creaky patch of floorboard and a sharp crack made the Skinshifter’s ears pin back onto its head. It shrank down ready to pounce. From its prone position, it noticed the unconscious member of the SOS draped over the balcony.

  At the exact moment it began to howl, I bought the sword down like an executioner. The sound was clipped silent as the blade sliced through flesh and bone as if it were butter. The weight of the attack bought me forward, and I fell into the stinking, matted fur of the decapitated hound. I pushed myself off in disgust and accidently pressed a hand to the cauterised neck of the severed head.

  Gross!

  I wiped my hand on my shirt and stood up, noticing for the first time that a jet of dark blood had sprayed onto the wall beside me. I frigging hate Skinshifters.

  Luckily the head had been so close to the ground when I’d severed it that it had barely made a sound. I didn’t expect any other Rogues to come investigating, but I stood guard just in case. After half a minute, when no one came, I wiped the bloody sword on my jumper and motioned to move.

  “Stop it! You’re killing him!”

  The desperate words were Mum’s. A cold wave of dread rushed through me. I’m taking way too long. I practically jumped over the corpse and made my way down the stairs as fast as I could. The hallway was now empty, but as I leaned out, I saw three Rogues in the kitchen and two more standing watch outside the front of the house. I haven’t got a hope in hell against all of these. My only chance was to get weapons to Mikey and Gabriella and let them do the rest. If they are still well enough to fight.

  I shook the thought from my head and skulked towards the lounge entrance. I pressed the side of my head flat against the wall, and holding my breath, edged forward until I could see into the room. It was a mess. Most of the windows had been smashed in, and a cold wind was whistling through the room. The television was so smashed it was barely recognisable, and the side tables and units had been reduced to splinters of wood. Mirrors, ornaments, and pictures lay scattered and smashed among an upturned sofa and chairs.

  Half a dozen SOS members lay among the ruins of the room, some with necks twisted at awkward angles, others with pieces of furniture fashioned into stakes sticking out of their necks or sternum. But there were more still alive. I counted the female Imp, an Oni and – my skin went cold – a Devil.

  He was walking among the wreckage, cloven hooves crunching and snapping wood and glass with each step. The Oni was perched on the crushed remains of an armchair, wearing a dark smile on his giant face as he watched the leader do his work. Mum and John were on their knees in the corner, hands tied behind them and under submission from the Imp, who guarded them with a long dagger and menacing looks. They looked roughed up, but otherwise unharmed.

  Gabriella and Mikey were a different story.

  Gabriella was tied to a kitchen chair in the centre of the room. I recognised the black chains that bound her, but couldn’t place them. She was in bad shape. Apart from an alarming array of cuts and burns, a deep gash ran from her temple to her chin and her already-bruised eye was now swollen shut. Her lips were purple and split, and I could tell several of her fingers had been forcibly broken. I felt sick to my stomach.

  But it was when the Devil moved further along the room that the true victim of the attack became exposed. Mikey was chained to another chair and he was beyond beaten. Most of his face was unrecognisable – it had been reduced to a swollen mass of bruises, cuts, and burns. His body sported a dozen slash marks that had been ripped through both shirt and flesh. Most of his fingers had been snapped, and one of his ankles was twisted so badly it had to be broken. His chin was resting against his chest, and blood seeped from his mouth and both ears. I could barely breathe as I took in the horror of what I was seeing. He was close to death.

  The Devil was speaking as he paced up and down. His voice was a guttural scrape that spilled from his throat like gravel. The language he spoke was Th’ail. I knew that much. But because I was no longer Chosen, I had to piece together what he said from words I remembered.

  “You filthy Alliance…interrupting…plans. Disgusting mutant humans. You destroyed …icon. Destroyed The Sorrow!” He shouted the last words and struck out with a lighting fist. It connected with the side of Mikey’s jaw and blood sprayed from his mouth. Mum whimpered, John cried silent tears, and Gabriella made a sound of anguish that came out as a sticky gasp.

  Mikey’s head lolled down. He appeared to be struggling to hold onto consciousness. Parting his cracked lips to reveal bloody teeth, he whispered something low.

  “What…that?” said the Devil leaning in close.

  Mikey spat in the creature’s face. He recoiled with a roar as my brother let out a frail yet defiant laugh. The Devil wiped a hand across his slick, furry jowls and grimaced. “Funny…See… funny you find this.” He moved to Gabriella with the lithe speed of a wildcat and, gripping the back of her chair, delivered a piston-like gut punch. Her good eye went wide and she descended into a coughing fit that ended with bile pouring from her mouth.

  The punch felt like it had hit me too. Their pain was too much to bear. As I tried to work out what to do, the Devil continued to walk between the people I loved, delivering blows designed to cause maximum pain, but that were not enough to send them over the edge. He was toying with them. Unfortunately, he was the type who broke his toys when he was done playing.

  Okay how do I do this? I imagined the scene in my mind. Devil first – sword. Imp next, long distance. Oni last and then free Gabriella and Mikey. Hand over boosters and hope they can do the rest. It was beyond a longshot. Even with the belt activated, once I started attacking, they’d see me. I had mere seconds, and I was no Chosen. As I stared at my broken brother – the actual Chosen – bleeding and beaten on the chair, I doubted that any of it was possible. But I have to try.

  I slipped one of the guns from my pocket and clicked over to iron rounds from the chamber select. Breathing hard, I deactivated the belt and leaned further into the entrance. Mum looked up and her eyes widened as she saw me. The Imp was saying something threatening to her. She cut short when she caught Mum’s expression. I shrank back from the doorway and counted to ten. Please don’t come out. Please don’t come out.

  The Imp started to speak again, and I breathed a sigh of relief. Leaning back in, I caught Mum’s eye once more and pressed a trembling finger to my lips. Then I mouthed the words ‘distract her.’

  “Leave us alone, you disgusting creatures!” she hissed at the Imp.

  “I’d watch who you’re calling a creature, bitch,” threatened the Imp, drawing in on her.

  “Elaine, don’t make things worse,” sniffed John.

  “I don’t care. They’re going to kill us anyway. I’m not going to die like a whimpering animal. So just get on with it, you purple freak.”

  Nice one, Mum, I thought as I reactivated the belt. Ju
st don’t overplay it.

  I took one final breath and stared up above me. If there is anyone up there, now is the time for some miracles.

  I waited until the Devil was near the doorway. Then I sprinted into the room.

  Charging forwards, I stumbled through the mess and half fell into the Devil. It wasn’t what I had intended, but it had the required effect. The blade sank straight into his back, not stopping until it had poked through to the other side. The Umbra made a howling sound as black blood seeped from the wound, and collapsed to his knees.

  I turned around and fired the gun at the Imp. The bullet missed the head, hitting the chest instead. It wasn’t a kill shot, but it was enough to put it down. The Oni was on me in a flash. I just had enough time to throw the other Crimson Twin in the direction of my parents before a crushing fist encircled my throat.

  “Bastard human!” it growled and unleashed a jab to my side. I felt every single one of my ribs shatter. Agony the likes of which I had never experienced filled me up. I could barely breathe, the pain was so unbearable. He released my throat. I collapsed against the wall and slid to the ground with a whimper as the hulking red beast hovered over me. He pulled back a fist to deliver a fatal blow. I closed my eyes and waited for it to come to an end.

  I tried my best.

  There was the sound of sharp metal meeting flesh followed by the smell of burning. I opened my eyes to see a battered Gabriella standing over me, holding a blood-soaked Crimson Twin in her good hand. The Oni spilled forward, head hitting the wall with a resounding thud that made the whole house shudder. He stayed locked in the bizarre position, facing towards the wall as if he were the school dunce. I looked past Gabriella to an empty chair surrounded by severed chains. Mum was holding onto one of the legs for support.

  “I could use that booster about now,” she wheezed.

  I was too broken to move, so she had to collect one from my pouch. She plunged it into her wrist just in time to for the three SOS from the kitchen to rush into the room. They barely had time to register what had happened before they were slumped in a heap of red robes.