by Ben Zackheim
Then, in an instant, my body was my own again.
One moment I was frozen in time. The next I had complete control. I wanted to jump for joy. I wanted to laugh and move my legs. I wanted to kill the fuck out of Cannon, the diseased little prick-nose.
But I didn’t.
The bike’s wheel was still again. The explosive plume of fire above us was like a photograph. I could see that Rebel was still frozen.
Or she was faking it too.
“Three minutes until the end times,” Cannon said. I think he was ruminating by that point, patting himself on the back for a fucked up job done well. “Three minutes until humanity has its second chance. Three minutes until…”
Cannon shut his trap. The sound of Blues hissing and metal rubbing against metal filled the sudden silence.
I didn’t know what was going on, but we had an ally nearby. I needed to wait for him to make his move.
I tilted my head just a little bit to peek around the tire in my face. A small man waddled down the hill from behind Zozobra. He held some kind of long chain weapon over his shoulder. The metal links dragged behind him like a long snake.
And Blues dragged along with it.
The chain was spiked and the Vampires struggled to rip themselves free. A couple dozen of them writhed around, hissing, unable to pry off of the sick device.
The guy was the size of Skyler but he wore a fedora and a fine-cut black suit. He was like a Hollywood mobster, cigar and all.
“Humans don’t get another chance, man-in-red-cloak,” he bellowed. He had a low, tough voice, haunted by cigars past. “You ran out of second chances years ago. You got the Great Flood to get your shit together. You got the Black Plague to figure things out. Bay of Pigs gave you a good, hard look at yourselves. I’d say that’s all the do-overs you get, you sanctimonious pile of turd pie.”
I saw Cannon back up. It was time to make a move.
I stepped out from behind the frozen motorcycle.
I aimed at his left temple.
This mission would end on the tip of a bullet.
“Down, boy,” the small man said to me. My Glock flew from my hand, landed barrel-first in a Blue’s open mouth and blew its head off.
The Glock flew back to me and hovered, waiting for me to take it back. “And watch your back next time,” the man said. “Not that there will be a next time.” He stood over Baldr’s almost headless body and then looked at me and smiled.
“Clever kid,” he said, pointing at me. “Arkwright, right?” I nodded.
“Who are you, midget?” Cannon asked. He put on his best macho mad-face but he knew he was in trouble. Anyone who could cancel out his spell had to be powerful.
The little man laughed a big belly laugh. It was a jolly fucking thing. It made me smirk. I glanced over at Rebel, who could move too. But she looked at me like I’d eaten her puppy. She still didn’t understand why I’d killed Baldr.
“You humans,” the stranger said. “So rude when in the presence of gods!”
“Who are you?” Cannon asked again, louder.
I knew the answer. I’d called for him, after all.
“I’m Odin,” the mobster said.
Chapter 43
When I shot Baldr, my hope was that Odin would appear and reclaim his prize.
I knew that the all-father wouldn’t like his curse on Baldr to be undone by a mere mortal like me.
So I called him out.
And, well, he arrived. But now what?
We had a couple of minutes before the Ley Lines surfaced, maybe across the whole continent. I had to get the shield in Baldr’s hands.
Odin walked up to Cannon who was suddenly getting a taste of his own poison. He was frozen in time, his face stuck in surprised mode and his finger pointing at the little god. And, mercifully, Cannon was as quiet as a feather. Odin lifted him right off the ground like he was as light as a feather, too.
“I’m the one who gets to pass judgment on you people,” Odin said, carrying Cannon to a spot just beneath one of my floating bullets. I’d shot it from a low angle so it was hovering about ten feet above ground. Odin yanked on his chain of Blues like he was pulling on a fishing line and stacked all of his Vampire collection in a pile under the bullet. He crafted a twisted mountain of undead.
He clumsily pulled the inert Cannon up to the top of it.
Then he lifted Cannon up so the bullet was in his mouth, just behind his top front teeth.
Odin let him go and my enemy’s body hung on the round.
Odin took a deep breath and wiped his hands dry.
In the silence of the night, where all humans were mad and all undead were enraptured, we could hear the bullet twisting ever so slowly into Cannon’s flesh.
Slow as molasses.
Odin hopped off his unholy mound and smiled at me as if he just remembered what he was doing there. He strutted right up to me and looked me up and down. Then he walked to Baldr and sat next to his dead body.
He placed a hand on his chest and for a moment I thought the little guy was going to cry. But when he looked up at me again, his face was 100% smirk.
“Can you bring him back?” I asked. “We need to get the shield you made for him back in his hands.”
“I know your predicament, boy. Your biggest problem right now is that I don’t care.”
Baldr suddenly bolted up into a seated position. He was all bones and sagging, dry skin. His dead eyes were somehow still in his skull even though the top of his head hung off to the side.
Dead as they were, his eyes told me that he was afraid of this man.
“You don’t look like Odin,” Rebel said.
“Well, I’m Odin and this is Baldr and he’s pissed me off for the last time.”
He bent over to be in the poor man’s line of sight.
He blew on his face and Baldr’s skin started to grow back. The flap of skull flipped back into place. His eyes brightened. He screamed in agony.
He fell back onto the grass. Stiff as a board. He shook as if he was trying to tolerate the pain. He was alive but it didn’t look like he wanted to be. Odin was making his resurrection as painful as possible.
“What the fuck is wrong with you? Stop it!” Rebel yelled.
Odin ignored her. “You hear me, Baldr?” he yelled. “I’m done! No more chasing you. No more holding out any hope for this sorry human race. Tonight, you’ll come back to Asgard and rejoin your family.”
“Kane,” Baldr cried.
Odin glared at me. Not a good feeling, let me tell you. “We’re going to let this mess of their own making blow up in their faces,” the god said. “I’m done with mortals. We can start over as far as I’m concerned.”
That did it. Odin wasn’t going to help us.
He didn’t leave me any choice. He was going to disappear with Baldr before he could get the shield.
There was only one more chance to make things right.
I shot Fox in the heart.
I think I heard Rebel’s scream. Most of that night is a blur to me now. I do remember seeing her run to the body.
It was the hardest thing I’d ever done.
I still can’t believe I did it. It’s hard to explain why, but when there’s so much on the line you have to make choices. Okay, maybe that’s a cop-out. Maybe other people would make better choices than I did.
But I shot him because I know how power works. I know what drives those in power. I know what upsets them more than anything.
They scramble to where their armor is weakest. They wake up in the morning anxious to confront any irritants.
I’d shot Fox with a wooden bullet in the heart. His lifeless body trailed blood from its chest. The green grass made the crimson red look like candy syrup.
It looked sweet to me.
I was going mad.
Was it the surfacing?
Or was it guilt?
I didn’t have time to think about it before something slammed me in the face and sent me flying over the Blue
s’ heads. I landed hard on my side and rolled and finally came to a halt under a Honda Civic fender.
My face felt like it was coming off.
The pain was almost unbearable.
“Get up, boy,” a deep voice said.
I knew who it was but I didn’t know what he would look like. The last time we’d shared words he was decked out in an elegant robe. He was dressed to please his wife.
But how would Merlin look in fighting mode?
I managed to see through my pain. Merlin stood next to Fox’s body. He towered over Rebel. His dark robe was like night. Multi-colored beads hung from his white beard. They swayed from the force of his punch.
The fury in his eyes is not something I’ll ever forget.
He took one booming step forward and suddenly stood right over me.
“Nice trick,” I said, wiping the blood from my face.
“You think you can take Lancelot from me?” the wizard said.
“I think I just did,” I said.
“That human is mine,” Odin said. His voice boomed all around us. It made me cringe. But Merlin raised an eyebrow.
His focus shifted.
From me to Odin.
So far, so good. My plan was working.
“Arkwright’s fate belongs to me, false god,” Merlin said. He turned his back to me.
Odin marched right up to Merlin and pointed his cigar at him, poking the lit, orange end with each word.
“You listen to me, trickster,” Odin said. “This here is my party. If you wanted an invite, you should have been nicer to me for the last thousand years.”
“It became my ‘party’ when the boy took Lancelot away from me,” Merlin said.
“He took Baldr from me first, so stand in line, magician,” Odin said.
With a loud crack, Odin’s small body flew through the Santa Fe sky, arching toward Old Man Gloom. He went limp. His fedora rolled down the hill.
Round one went to the wizard.
But Merlin made the mistake of turning his back on me.
He was an old man but he was bigger than me. I made the snap judgment that I could take him down if I surprised him.
I jumped onto his back and got him in a head-lock.
“Rebel!” I yelled as he reached for me, trying to throw me off. Damn he was strong. I managed to see her look up at me. Her eyes were stunned, angry. But when she saw me riding Merlin, they also focused.
She stood.
I spotted Odin standing up. He was not happy. He was preparing an attack of his own.
Rebel’s hands glowed with a black light.
I did not like the looks of that spell.
Was she crafting it for Merlin or for me?
Chapter 44
Rebel turned around to face Old Man Gloom and released a wave of dim black light from her forearms and hands. It shot through the shadows of the night and slammed into Odin, who was still recovering from Merlin’s blow.
Rebel had attacked the weakest link.
Good girl.
The force of the blow sent Odin rolling on the ground so hard and fast that he rolled up the hill behind the giant puppet.
Merlin snagged the back of my head and flipped me over his shoulder. I smacked the grass so hard I saw stars.
The wizard loomed over me.
He pulled out a wand.
“Really? A wand?” I asked.
“Shut up, Arkwright,” he said before he was flung out of my sight by Rebel.
But it wasn’t a spell that threw him. It was her. She was on top of the old man. Her legs pinned his arms to his sides and she was slashing at him like I’d never seen before.
Every blow was a sick thud, a wet strike that lifted the fog from my head. I crawled toward her.
“Rebel, stop,” I said.
She was winning. She would kill him. I had to stop her.
I grabbed her ankle and pulled as hard as I could. I was about as strong as a ten year old.
She barely noticed me.
But she noticed me enough.
I don’t know why I didn’t remember the rules. I was out of it, but that’s not an excuse. Our team had protocol for engaging the enemy. We trained for years to make our battles go smooth, smart and fast.
I’d just broken rule #4.
Do not touch Rebel when she’s in the zone.
I learned that the hard way that night.
Rebel didn’t even look back. She thought I was a Blue. She lifted her fingers and slashed at my wrist.
My hand dropped from my arm.
A gush of blood painted the dirt.
My scream stopped her fury. I don’t know how long I writhed on the ground. I must have passed out because I found her sitting over me, wrapping the stump at the end of my left arm with some of Merlin’s black cloak.
“Alive. Is he alive?” I asked.
“Quiet,” she yelled. “You surprised me. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Kane.”
“Is Merlin alive, dammit?” I yelled.
“I think so,” she said, tightening the knot on my ex-hand.
I screamed.
The pain didn’t knock me out this time. In fact, it woke me up.
I pushed myself to my feet, charged with an energy that only comes when you want to see what your hard work has produced.
But all I saw was chaos.
People were plugging their ears all around me as if they could hear a sound that I couldn’t. The Blues scattered in every direction.
A hum rose from the ground below.
The Ley Lines were in agony. They needed relief.
I was in agony. I needed relief. But we needed to get the shield.
Rebel blocked her ears as the hum grew louder. The Santa Feans writhed on the ground, screaming in pain.
It was time. I had a clear shot at last.
I aimed at Old Man Gloom with my right hand and fired. The giant puppet ignited.
The flames rose straight up, but they didn’t stop when they reached the giant’s head. They kept rising into the sky until their reach was beyond what we could see.
But instead of a deafening explosion, there was silence. Dead silence. All I could hear was my breathing and my heart beating. Fast. Rebel and I watched the towering column of light and then we looked at each other.
There was no heat. It was just like what had happened in Iceland after Bonehead destroyed the hammer with the shield. Light all around us, pure energy of some kind. But no damage.
A small voice spoke to me.
The light won’t hurt you. Not when it has somewhere to go.
I turned to see who was talking to me.
The light likes to fly to the sky.
The voice was in my head.
Old Man Gloom was acting as a conduit for the Ley Line’s power. Polk would be excited to hear that. As excited as he could get, at least.
I’m not sure why I did what I did next. Maybe the voice in my head told me to.
In the silence, I closed my eyes. I felt for my Vault Portal. I found it.
It opened.
The light poured out of it. But it wasn’t blinding this time.
I looked at Rebel and shrugged.
I stepped into my Vault Portal.
“No! K...” I heard her scream before the portal closed behind me.
Chapter 45
Not only did the light not blind me, it helped me see.
I was in a tunnel of color. Thin threads of blue and green and red and black wove through the walls. They flowed around me, moving to a steady beat.
Like a heartbeat.
I’d peeked into my Vault Portal before, of course. It had been a small room with dim pink walls. Yeah, not attractive. Kind of like what you’d expect the inside of your stomach to look like.
After the first few times using it, I just didn’t give the space much thought. It was a vault. It was a utility – a portable locker that ensured my safety as long as I stuffed it with things other people wanted.
It never looked anythi
ng like that tunnel.
There was no end in sight. I could walk forever. I realized that my wrist, arm, stump, whatever it was wasn’t hurting. It looked like shit but I’d gotten a reprieve from the pain.
I remember thinking, then I’d better get started.
I tripped on something.
I looked down and realized I was surrounded by my relics. All the loot I’d lost was back. The mythic Brahmastra, the Seal of Solomon, and even the Cintamani stone were strewn all over the floor.
But no shield.
For some reason I scanned the relics for the small sack, too. The one that Skyler had given me in Poland.
No time, I thought. Get going.
“Hello?” I called out, not expecting an answer. I didn’t get one. Well, not one I understood at least.
I felt an urge. I needed to move forward. I stepped over the treasures and ran my right hand over the wall. It was smooth, soft. If light had a texture that would be it.
“Hello?” I said again. This time I expected an answer. I felt someone nearby.
The silence was all I needed to know that I wasn’t alone.
“I won’t hurt you,” I said.
“Take it,” a small voice said from behind me. It was the voice I’d heard in my head.
I jumped but I stopped myself from grabbing my gun.
The little girl was dressed in a white dress. Her black hair and dark skin had the same beautiful glow as the walls. Her eyes had large black pupils that looked into me. Two bracelets dangled from her wrist and made a small tinkling sound. I was so taken by the peace and calm that she brought to me that I didn’t see that she was holding…
“The shield?”
“Excuse me?” I said, blinking. I had to get it together.
“Will...you...please...take...the...shield,” she repeated slowly, as if I was an idiot. “This is what you want, is it not?”
“Yeah! Yes. Yes, I want that shield. Can I… have it?”
“Are you usually this slow?” she asked. But she didn’t ask it in a mean way. It was a good question, actually. Perfect for the moment.
“Not this slow, no,” I said. She smiled and, even with current circumstances being ass, I smiled back.
I took the shield. It was in the same haggard shape it had been in when I’d last seen it.