Life is for the Living

Home > Fantasy > Life is for the Living > Page 17
Life is for the Living Page 17

by S. C. Stokes


  There should only be four of them. There were only four in my vision.

  The thought of this many Shinigami filled her with dread.

  Perhaps they are merely minions or hired guns, like Samson. In any case, they are here for Skyler, and sooner or later they are going to realize she is dead.

  “Bishop, I’m telling you, these men, they all bear the same tattoo as Skyler. It can’t be a coincidence that the very same day we find her, they all show up here. They’re here for her, and if I had to bet, I’d say that there are more of them downstairs.”

  Bishop’s gaze flitted around the bullpen. She appeared to be attempting to come to grips with the enormity of what Kasey was suggesting.

  Addressing the other officers, she began barking orders. “Don’t bother processing this lot now. Throw them in the cells. We need to sort out what’s going on downstairs. Morales, Vincent, watch the elevators. If anyone comes through those doors that isn’t one of ours, take them down.”

  Bishop’s orders were met with mixed responses. As the officers began to drag their charges to the holding cells, the Shinigami disciples had other ideas.

  In the bullpen, and in spite of his handcuffs, one of the mountainous suspects grabbed the officer in front of him and hurled the young recruit over the desk beside him.

  The recruit flew over the table, collecting a computer screen and assorted paperwork as he went before sliding off the other side, and landing on the floor in a heap. Another criminal leapt atop the rookie and pinned him down.

  “Get the keys,” the thug replied as he rushed a second officer.

  The four thugs sitting on the bench seat by the elevator charged directly toward Kasey and Bishop. Even handcuffed, the men posed a threat. The chance of being overwhelmed by sheer force of numbers was a very real possibility. Kasey watched as Bishop reached for her weapon and wished that she had not left her own in the morgue.

  As the four men charged like ranging bulls, Kasey made her choice. Focusing on the polished floor before her, she whispered, “Llithrig.”

  she felt her arcane gift flow through her being. The floor glimmered as the spell did its work.

  The charging criminals did not see the glossy sheen beneath them. The first of the thugs to reach it lost his footing. Crashing to the ground, he took out two of his comrades. The fourth saw his friends go down and stepped around the hazard.

  Bishop drew a bead on the man’s chest but thought better of it. Lowering her weapon, she took her shot. The fourth man went down, Bishop’s bullet having struck him in the thigh. One of the other thugs tried to rise from the ground but was met with a pistol whip from Bishop for his effort.

  “Stay down!” she snapped.

  Flashing light caught Kasey’s eye. One of the floor readouts on the bank of elevators in front of her steadily descended toward the lobby.

  “Bishop,” Kasey called. “Whoever is downstairs just called the elevator. We have to get out of here.”

  “We can’t take the lifts Kasey. We have no idea what we’ll be walking into. Might be some of ours downstairs or we might be walking straight into an ambush.”

  “Is there another way out?” Kasey asked.

  “Fire escape!” Bishop shouted. “We just need to make it through the bullpen and out the back window.”

  “Easier said than done,” Kasey replied as she looked at the chaos unfolding in the bullpen. It looked like the most bizarre wrestling match she had ever seen. Officers of the Fighting Ninth struggled against the press of thugs.

  “Perhaps so, but I don’t see much other choice. We certainly don’t want to be sitting here when those doors open.”

  “Agreed,” Kasey answered, turning her focus toward the brawl before her.

  She sucked in a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Let’s do this.”

  She plunged into the madness. Bishop was right beside her. In front of them, the prisoner still sat atop the rookie while he tried to locate a key for his cuffs. The officer wasn’t fighting back and was bleeding from a wound on his head.

  Bishop took one look at the wounded officer and aimed her gun. “Oh, no you don’t.”

  She squeezed the trigger twice. The bullets struck the thug in the chest, and he crumpled.

  Bishop glanced at the wounded rookie, clearly conflicted between the danger they all faced and the defenseless officer unconscious at her feet.

  Kasey tapped her on the shoulder. “We need to keep moving, Bishop. We’ll get help and come back for him. I can’t patch him up in the middle of this. We’re no good to anyone dead.”

  “You’re right,” Bishop replied reluctantly.

  Kasey felt a hand grab her from behind.

  Reflexively, Kasey grabbed the hand with both of hers. It was immense. She ducked under the arm and twisted it for all she was worth. The thug grunted in pain as his arm was wrenched far beyond its normal range of motion. The man’s face contorted in pain. He lashed out angrily with his other arm. The clumsy blow clipped Kasey with enough force to send her careening into the wall of the cubicle beside her.

  Unfortunately for the thug, her years in mixed martial arts had conditioned her well. Keeping her firm hold on his other arm, she continued twisting. The hold would have dislocated a smaller foe’s arm, but the man before her was close to seven feet of solid muscle.

  “You’re in the way, Kasey, I don’t have a shot,” Bishop shouted.

  Focusing her efforts, Kasey kicked for all she was worth square in the groin. The force of the blow brought him to his knees. She snatched a wooden name plate off the desk beside her and smacked him across the face. He struck the floor and went still.

  Bishop bent over and cuffed him to a chair.

  “That ought to slow him down. At least a little,” she said.

  Together, they made their way deeper into the bullpen, aiding the struggling officers wherever they could.

  Gunshots rang out from the back of the bullpen.

  A group of thugs had overpowered a detective. Two of them held down the man while a third thug, a short stocky guy with a mop of sandy hair, executed the officer with his own service weapon.

  “No!” Bishop shouted.

  The thugs turned. The stocky thug raised his stolen gun. Bishop was faster.

  Her shots were drowned out by the commotion.

  At the last moment, the stocky thug pulled his comrade into the line of fire. Bishop’s rounds tore into the comrade, but the sandy-haired acolyte remained safe behind him. Raising his stolen weapon, he returned fire.

  “Down!” Kasey shouted as she pulled Bishop behind the cover of the desk.

  The shots passed harmlessly overhead.

  Kasey and Bishop sat with their backs against the desk.

  “We’re pinned,” Bishop said, panting. “If we break cover, he’ll get the first shot.”

  “If we stay here, we are dead. We’ll be trapped between blondie over there and whoever comes out of those elevators,” Kasey replied.

  The floor readout showed the elevator was now at the ground floor. Any moment now, it would begin its ascent. They had moments at best.

  “We need a distraction,” Bishop replied.

  “I don’t like the sound of that,” Kasey answered. “I don’t know that I feel like being the bait today.”

  “Doesn’t need to be you, Kasey. Just head left and draw his attention. Throw something, make a racket, anything. When he makes his move, I’ll take him out.”

  Kasey hunted around for a serviceable distraction. Realizing that the desk she rested against had drawers, she opened the lowest of them. It contained a series of neatly stacked case files. She reached into the drawer and grabbed a wad of folders.

  “Ready,” she said.

  “Alright, go, go, go,” Bishop whispered.

  Kasey crawled left until she ran out of cover. Pausing at the edge of a desk, she banged heavily against it with her palm. The loud slapping noise was intended to draw the thug’s gaze. The folders were to give him something
to shoot at. As Kasey’s hand struck the desk for the third time, her right arm flung the folders into the air. Paper and folders went everywhere, showering the bullpen in a confetti-like rain of case files.

  The thug took the bait and a gunshot rang through the bullpen.

  Bishop, who had circled to the right, leapt to her feet, weapon ready. From her new position she had a clear line of sight to the thug. She opened fire.

  The first missed but the second and third took him in the chest.

  “He’s down, let’s move,” Bishop shouted.

  Kasey strode farther into the bullpen. There were a dozen injured or dead thugs strewn throughout. Several officers lay among them.

  Bishop reached the back window first. Flipping the latch, she lifted the window.

  A bellow echoed through the bullpen. Kasey turned to see a handful of thugs emerging from the corridor that led to the cells.

  “Bishop, we have company!” Kasey said pointing to the hallway.

  Angry shouting echoed up the long hallway. It seemed to be coming from the cells at the end of the hall.

  Kasey studied the thugs as they ran toward her. Something was not right. The thugs saw her and Bishop in their path. Bishop raised her weapon, and still they came on.

  They’re afraid, but not of us.

  There was another heavy grunt, followed by a gut-wrenching thud. The rearmost criminal collapsed.

  Seconds later, another heavy crack rolled through the corridor. A second thug collapsed.

  As the ranks thinned, Kasey could see past them for the first time. Something was chasing them from the cells, and it wasn’t happy. The immense shape moved through them like a force of nature. Another bone crunching thwack echoed down the hall, and another thug fell.

  A navy-blue uniform was visible in their midst. Kasey watched as the officer raised his nightstick and brought it down again. The blow caught a fleeing criminal across the back of his head and he too hit the ground. The last thug risked a look over his shoulder. The officer leapt forward, crash-tackling him to the ground.

  Kasey couldn’t help but wince as the officer and the thug struck the floor like a freight train. The thug took the brunt of the force and before he could recover, the officer was on top of him. The nightstick rose and fell again. The last thug went limp.

  The officer got to his feet and brushed himself off. He dwarfed both Kasey and Bishop. His uniform was torn and tattered, one side of his face was sporting a thick welt, and somewhere along the way he’d lost a shoe.

  “Henley.” Bishop breathed a sigh of relief. “Boy, am I glad to see you. You look like you’ve been through hell.”

  Henley took a deep breath. “Good to see you too, detective. I was in the cells when the shooting started. The little beggars caught me by surprise, did a real number on me. I think they cracked a rib or two.”

  In his past life, Josiah Henley had been a college linebacker that had been drafted to the NFL. Family tragedy had forced Henley down a different path and he’d ended up finding a new home at the NYPD’s fighting ninth.

  Bishop glanced up and down the hall. “They may have cracked a rib, Josiah, but I think they got the worst of it. They’ll be out cold for a week.”

  Josiah shook his head. “They laid into me in the cell. I lost my cool, detective. One of them might be dead. Another’s not far behind. This lot ran for it.”

  Bishop patted him on his shoulder. “Don’t sweat it, Henley. They had it coming, and there are more of them downstairs.”

  “There are more downstairs?” Henley asked.

  “Definitely,” Kasey answered. “The shooting started in the lobby. That’s when this lot lost their mind. We need to get out of here and get help.”

  “Okay,” Henley replied, clearly still a little dazed. “What’s the plan.”

  “The fire escape is the safest choice. We need to get clear of the building,” Bishop replied.

  “After you,” Henley answered, pointing at the window.

  Bishop glanced back into the bullpen, then scrambled over the windowsill and onto the fire escape.

  “You next, big guy,” Kasey said. “If there are any more of them below, Bishop will need a hand. I’ll bring up the rear.”

  Henley nodded and followed Bishop through the open window. The image of the linebacker squeezing through the small space would have been comical if not for the sobering backdrop of the destroyed bullpen.

  More lives were being lost to the Shinigami, and each one was beginning to weigh Kasey down.

  Henley clambered down the ladder onto the landing below. Kasey swung her leg over the windowsill. She took one last look at the now eerily silent bullpen. Motion at the elevators drew Kasey’s attention.

  The elevator’s floor readout flickered to 2.

  A ding rang through the now quiet bullpen, and the doors parted.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  The elevator doors slid open revealing six figures dressed in black. Four of them were wearing masks and carrying submachine guns. The masked assailants reminded Kasey of the thieves at the gala. The attack on the precinct was every bit as brazen as the gala had been. If any doubt had existed in Kasey’s mind as to who was behind the attack, it was now gone.

  The Shinigami were behind it, and now they were utilizing the same direct assault on the Precinct. Her mother’s warning about their contempt for life had not been an exaggeration.

  Masked disciples fanned out of the elevator, sweeping the room. Two more figures stepped out of the lift. Both of them were dressed identically, in black robes that reminded Kasey of something she had seen before.

  Skyler was wearing those robes in my vision.

  Seeing the deference the disciples gave to the pair, Kasey had no doubt that these were the Shinigami. Neither of them wore a mask.

  What need is there for a mask, when you can change your appearance at whim?

  The first Shinigami wore a woman’s form. She had blonde hair and piercing blue eyes. The woman carried no weapon whatsoever, but her very presence commanded attention.

  At her right hand was a shorter man in a matching robe. He was clearly of Asian heritage and carried himself with the confidence of a warrior.

  “Find Mina. Kill anyone who gets in your way!” The woman barked her orders.

  So transfixed was Kasey with the appearance of the Shinigami that she had neglected her escape. As the disciples streamed into the bullpen, Kasey moved to remedy her mistake.

  The disciples turned on Kasey and raised their weapons, but the male Shinigami was quicker.

  Raising one hand, he bellowed, “Dete-Ike!”

  Kasey sensed the wave of power as it sailed toward her. Her heart raced as she searched for the words she wanted.

  I need a counter spell.

  The blast collided with her before she could act. The force of the blow blew her out the window.

  Kasey screamed as she was knocked clear of the fire escape.

  At the last minute, Kasey lashed out with her hand. Cold steel brushed her fingers, but her grip slipped off the rail.

  Her stomach lifted as the weightlessness of her free fall washed over her.

  The ground rushed toward her as she flailed frantically.

  Suddenly, Kasey jerked to a halt and slammed against the fire escape.

  “Ow.”

  She looked up to find Henley clutching her arm.

  “Don’t worry, Kasey, I’ve got you,” he called.

  “Thanks, Henley,” Kasey managed as Bishop and Henley yanked her unceremoniously over the rail and onto the safety of the fire escape.

  “What happened, Kasey? Lose your footing?” Bishop asked.

  “I had some help,” Kasey stammered, trying to catch her breath. “It was more of them in the elevator. Speaking of which, we need to get off this fire escape. We’re sitting ducks out here and they are packing serious heat.”

  “How many are there?” Bishop asked.

  “At least six with automatic weapons. They’ll cut
us to shreds if they catch us in the open like this,” Kasey warned.

  Bishop didn’t need to be told twice. She charged down the fire escape, Kasey and Henley right behind her. In moments the three of them were in the alleyway behind the Ninth Precinct.

  “What’s the plan?” Henley asked.

  “We need to put the word out,” Bishop replied. “We can’t have officers walking into that bloodbath. We need to get to a radio and raise dispatch. Let them know what is going on, have them warn our boys off. If they can send tactical support from the 5th or 13th, we’ll be able to take back our station.”

  “We can’t wait for them,” Kasey answered pointing to the station. “We still have people inside. Vida’s in the morgue. What if they get to him first?”

  Bishop shook her head. “We are outgunned, Kasey. Vida is going to have to dig in and wait for us to take back the station.”

  “He can’t dig in, Bishop. He’s in the morgue, along with Skyler’s personal effects. Somehow, these thugs tracked her here. When they realize she’s not in the cells, what do you think they will do next?”

  Bishop nodded. “They’ll turn the place inside out. The morgue will be next.”

  “That’s how I see it,” Kasey said. “And when they do, they are going to find Vida, a few evidence bags, and an autopsy report. They’ll kill him, Bishop. We need to get him out of there, before they can reach him.”

  Kasey turned and started down the alleyway.

  “All right,” Bishop replied, taking off after her. “Change of plans. Henley, head for the car park. Use the radio in one of the squad cars to reach dispatch. Get us some reinforcements but keep your head down.”

  “Will do, Bishop. You two take care. I’ll see you on the other side.” Henley hobbled down the alley.

  Kasey turned back to Bishop. “How do you want to do this?”

  “We can’t use the service entrance. It will take too long to circle around the building. They will beat us to Vida for sure. The most direct route is through the lobby. If we slip in the side entrance we can duck down the stairs. If we use the elevators, we risk letting them know our movements. Our best bet is to sneak down the stairs, grab Vida, and get out. We’ll use the service entrance and be out of the station before they can reach us.”

 

‹ Prev