Authors: Tim Marquitz
I grabbed his arm and forced him to stand
still. His eyes snapped to mine. “I was wrong about why Gorath is holding
Karra, or at least some part of it.” I yanked the dagger piece out and showed
it to Longinus. “Recognize this?” His eyes narrowed. “You should, seeing how someone
tried to pig-stick you with it, just like that guy there tried with me before
he realized I wasn’t you.” I pointed to Iriaal. “Gorath is using Earth magic to
drain yours. All the Eidolon movements and caches are designed to lure you in
so Gorath can take the power he needs from
you
to face Lucifer.”
He shook his head, but I could tell by the
look on his face that what I was telling him was sinking in.
“That alien fuck has you running all over
this place like public transit, and he’s whittling your power down at every
stop. If you keep going—” That was all I got out.
A blur of motion whipped past me, nearly
knocking me on my ass, a figure bulling Longinus to the ground about twenty
feet from where we stood. They went down in a pile of snarls and thrashing
limbs.
Twenty
“You have gone too far, demon!” a voice
shouted, and it slowly dawned on me that it was Jesus’.
He straddled Longinus, throwing punches at
his face. Blood splattered and Longinus bucked, slipping an arm under the
savior’s leg before tossing him off to the side. Jesus rolled and hopped to his
feet as Longinus scrambled to his.
“I’ll kill you, Christ.”
“Just as you did before?” he asked, a
crooked smirk swelling his lips as he spread his arms to his sides, mocking.
“You are nothing, Maximus; a plague among your own kind. Lucifer had the right
of it when he murdered you with his pets, only he should have stolen your soul
for his own.” His grin widened. “But I’m grateful he didn’t, as that leaves it
for me.”
Longinus sword cleared his scabbard. “Do
you miss your essence, Jesus? The gift of the Earthbound Christ?” He spit a
phlegmy wad of blood at the ground. “Well, there it is, Christ. You’re welcome
to collect it.”
My head swam with the hostility. I knew the
two had some serious bad blood between them—you just can’t stab a guy and steal
his power without pissing him off—but I had no clue as to why Jesus had chosen
now to make an issue of it.
“What the hell are you doing, Jesus?”
His gaze snapped my direction, and I could
suddenly feel the heat of his stare. “Stay out of this devil spawn. I’ll deal
with you once I’m done with Maximus.”
Nothing made any sense, not that it ever
did in my world. “Deal with him? For what?”
Christ rose up, puffing his chest out
indignantly. “For the slaughter of my people.” Jesus didn’t say anything more.
He was on Longinus before the words had even settled in my ears.
They crashed together, spittle and blood
flinging everywhere as they clashed. The air rumbled with discordant thunder as
though the clouds were cheering them on, and I could feel the waft of Christ’s
energy as it buffered my senses. The two were going at it like feral cats, and
the very last thing I wanted to do was stick any part of me in between to stop
them. A guy could lose a finger doing something stupid like that.
As much as I wanted to let them sort this
crap out for themselves, I knew I’d have to do something…and soon. While Jesus
didn’t seem to be packing all of Daddy’s heat, it was pretty damn clear he was
the alpha in this particular pack. Longinus was holding his own, but there was
no way he would hold it for long. Battered and bone weary before they’d even
started to get down, Longinus was already losing ground. Adding to the bruises
and cuts, Jesus was using the ex-AC’s face for knuckle impressions. I could
feel the energy vibrating through me as they traded blows, the street shaking
beneath my feet. Both were conserving their magic, so there was no fireworks
show or histrionics, but they sure weren’t holding back on trying to skull fuck
each other with their fists.
Though I knew I needed to intervene,
Karra’s life at stake if Longinus lost, I hesitated. Something Jesus said had
struck a sour chord. It
plunked
inside me, sounding over and over in my head. He had said, “…my people.”
My eyes drifted from the brawl and traipsed
over the bodies lying about. I went to the closest and poked and prodded it.
There, in the crook of the armpit, like all the other Eidolon I’d checked, was
the phoenix tattoo. Slowly—well, probably not that slowly, but it felt like it
as my focus narrowed into a pinprick—I ignored the grunts and curses of the two
combatants and checked as many of the other bodies as I could reach.
While the shrapnel had punched a million
holes in each of the aliens, I kept finding the tattoo on pieces of meat
scattered across the field. I ran my hand across one and felt the flat skin of
the design, a subtle fading along its lines. My heart thrummed as I ran back to
examine several of the other tattoos I’d spied. It was hard to be certain, but
most appeared as though they’d been inked long ago, far more so than…
Oh…shit.
I spun away from the corpses and raced
toward the grappling pair. Jesus was getting the better of Longinus. He hovered
over him, raining blows down as the ex-AC struggled to defend. No time to be
subtle, I barreled straight at them. Christ looked up, his eyes narrowing, but
that was all he had time for. I plowed into him, ducking my head and tucking my
arms so I hit him flush with my forearms and elbows. We collided, two sacks of
cement slamming into each other. I stumbled back a step or two, my momentum
canceled by his last minute attempt at resistance, but he went flying. He hit
the ground hard, kicking up a cloud of gray dust dotted with green specks as he
tumbled into a crouch.
“Demon!” The word roared out like a
chainsaw coming to life.
I stepped over Longinus, hands raised, as
the ex-AC scrambled to gather his bearings. “The Eidolon are
your
minions?”
Jesus stood, muscles coiled and ready to
pounce. “Of course they are.”
The indignation in his voice was a bucket
of ice cold water thrown in my face.
Of
course
they were his people. The phoenix was the symbol of rebirth, the
idea of something returning to life from the ashes of a previous existence.
Jesus was a phoenix—
the
phoenix if
you wanted to be picky about the metaphor. That was why the guy I’d noticed at
Jo’s shop walked the street without fear. He was wearing the symbol of the
conquerors.
Christ moved to re-engage Longinus but I
stood between them, my hands up. All the while, unpleasant thoughts kept
spinning around inside my skull.
“Stand aside, demon,” Jesus warned. “This
filth has slain the people of the Almighty. He must pay for his crimes.”
I shook my head. “Wait. Just wait…please.”
The Son hissed but stood his ground. He wanted Longinus but it was clear he
wasn’t looking to drag Lucifer into the fight by putting me in the middle of
their feud—not that I suspected Dad would care, but Jesus must have thought he
would, for whatever reason.
“What is this about, Triggaltheron?”
Longinus asked at my back. He didn’t sound any better than he looked.
I held up a finger for silence, needing to
think. It felt as though I were taking a test or trying to unhook the clasps on
a bra for the first time; I just couldn’t do it with all the posturing and
threats jostling around me. Then it hit me. My legs nearly buckled as
realization snatched my breath away.
“Oh, Jesus fucking Christ!”
Jesus glared, clearly offended I’d used his
name in vain, and then the anger slipped from his expression, his eyes going
wide with surprise. He grunted once, a kind of low rumble that never quite left
his throat. A trickle of blood ran serpentine down his chin. He dropped,
crumpling limp to the ground without a word, his eyes closing.
In his place stood the alien we’d been
searching for: Gorath. He smiled.
Twenty-One
Gorath rose up to his full height of damn
near seven feet, forcing me to look up to take all of him in. His Cousin
Itt
hairdo looked even wilder than it had the last time I’d
seen him, the jet black strands splaying out behind him and hanging all the way
to the backs of his knees. The yellow-orange globes of his eyes flickered with
satisfaction in his mottled face.
Movement drew my eyes past him. Out of the
shadows and alleyways at his back came more of the Felurians, their weapons
clasped with intent. There was no way to tell the aliens apart from the ones
who’d claimed to be Eidolon, but the truth was out there now, so it didn’t
matter. No matter what they were pretending to be, there were more than enough
of them to kill us. They shuffled to a stop behind their leader.
Gorath held a golden dagger out toward us, waving
it with arrogant slowness, the blade wet with the savior’s life. It shimmered,
nearly blinding me with its brilliance, and I felt the rush of energy pouring
out of Christ into the weapon in the alien’s hand. His grin widened into a
toothy smile, every crease of his face illuminated by the flux of magic filling
the blade.
The opening salvo of Carnivore’s “God is
Dead” erupted in my head and it was as if a window had opened in my skull and
let the sense shine in. Everything fell into place. Longinus sputtered at my
back. He’d gotten it, too, but it was too late…for both of us.
I wanted to shout out, “I told you so,” but
even though I’d known damn well we were being set up since early on, even I
hadn’t realized who the real target was…or more correctly, who all of the
targets were. Jesus lay slumped and silent on the ground, his magical essence being
siphoned into the dagger. His cheeks were sunken under the pallor that stole
the color from his flesh, and he lay there without moving.
“We meet again, demon.” Gorath chuckled. “I
will admit. I was disappointed to learn you’d survived our last encounter,
though I should have had more faith in your perseverance. A little bird had whispered
of your resilience, so I was not
too
surprised
to see you show up here, on Feluris.” He shook the blood from the dagger,
crimson drops spattering the body of Christ lying at his feet. “It’s a shame
I’ll have to put you down before you see me revenged against Lucifer, but so be
it. You’ll be pleased to watch me destroy
this
creature, I’m certain.” He gestured toward Longinus, who stood behind me
without advancing.
That alone told me all I needed to know. He
was running on empty, and we were fucked in ways I’d never dared imagine, if
you can believe that.
There was no doubt Gorath had been
shadowing us somehow, waiting for the right moment to jump in while Longinus
was directed after Jesus’ Eidolon boys. I’d noticed the raised skin and
scabbing of fresh tattoos on the aliens early on, back when we were first attacked
at Rala’s place, but I didn’t think anything about it then. Gorath had only
been operating on a planet for a short while, so fresh ink seemed appropriate
given the time frame. But if he were the one to initiate the tattooing process,
why were some of the Eidolon marks new while some were much older? The only
explanation that made sense came to me while Longinus and Jesus played
pat-a-cake. Too bad I hadn’t realized it before Gorath
shivved
Christ. The two had been played, ancient animosity guided to set them snapping at
each other’s throats. It had worked perfectly.
A meaty hand plopped on my shoulder made me
jump. “We’ve little chance, but I need you to trust me,” Longinus whispered,
his breath warm on my ear.
I gave a barely perceptible nod. What
choice did I have?
Gorath eased forward, waving the dagger
before him, taunting us as he advanced. While his power was weak, the flutter
of a thousand butterfly wings against my senses, Longinus might as well have
been an abacus. You could still do math on his ass, but we were fixing to have
to do calculus.
“Open your defenses and let me in,”
Longinus said. “I need your magic.”
And while all I heard was, “Bend over and
grab your ankles, sweetheart,” I meekly did as he asked without bothering to
ask for a reach around. My power was a pittance to what Gorath wielded, even if
he hadn’t whipped his out yet.
The dagger was bad enough. It would steal
energy every time it struck, which is why I’d sensed Longinus on the piece I’d
picked up earlier. He’d already been wounded, energy drained, and there was no
likelihood that he’d recovered any seeing how he’d been fighting a constant
battle since we showed up, not to mention magical wounds require direct
attention to heal. If giving Longinus my energy helped him to recharge, I was
all for it.
“Do it.” I yanked out both guns and forced
a chuckle, squeezing hard on the triggers as I did.
The pistols kicked at the same time Longinus’
trick did. A loud
gong
went off and
the world wavered before my eyes. My skin warmed and I felt a sudden suction
drawing my power out from inside me, a vacuuming experiment gone horribly awry.
I vaguely saw the first of my shots slam into Gorath’s chest, but he took them
like a champ. He didn’t even stumble as he waved his minions forward. Their
shouts boxed my ears in competition with the roaring whoosh of Longinus
draining me dry of magic. I fell to my knees and was shoved backward by the
ex-AC, out of the line of fire.
The ground caught me about half a dozen
yards back, but I barely noticed. Rolling into a crouch out of pure instinct, I
checked real quick to see that I still had my guns—I did to my surprise—and
looked up to see Longinus barreling through the lines to engage Gorath. There
was a flicker of uncertainty in the alien’s eyes as they collided, but my brain
just couldn’t process it as fear. The two went at each other much like Longinus
and Jesus had, up close and disturbingly personal.
That left me the fifty or so Felurians that
had left their master to his battle and stormed toward my direction. Yay me!
My head throbbed as if I’d been on a
month-long bender, tribal rhythms thumping a savage beat on my skull. I could
taste ashes in my throat, my mouth so dry my tongue stuck to my teeth. The
aliens didn’t care. They just kept coming. I was just glad none of them had
guns, although, as that thought spewed into my brain it was countered by
another, more realistic one. No guns meant there was no quick and easy way out
of this one. My stomach sank into my nut sack. Dying the old fashioned way sucks.
I
got to my feet, trembling, reminded of the old adage:
Better to die on your feet than live on your knees.
And then I
thought,
fuck that guy
, but I was
already up so, whatever. Several rounds still in my magazines, I fired them off
as quickly as I could manage and went to reload before the horde hit me. My
subconscious reached out for my magic right then, and I could have sworn I
heard it whimper when it remembered it wasn’t there. With Longinus using me as
a juice box, there wasn’t enough energy left to light a match, let alone ward
off an army. The
mags
snapped home with the grave
understanding that they would likely be the last of what stood between me and
the aliens looking to mount my head on a spike.
“Duck,” a voice shouted from somewhere
above.
…duck, goose, I finished in my head and
dropped. A wash of wind and heat roared overhead. I was suddenly glad of my
habit of shaving my head because my hair would have gone up like a torch if I
hadn’t. As it was, I was certain I’d have a nice collection of blisters arrayed
across my skull.
The gout of flame hissed past and crashed
into the alien line. Felurians screamed as tongues of fire sexed them up in the
most uncomfortable of ways. A shadow clouded the sky and then whipped by to
bring the light back, such as it was. Though, if it weren’t for the
ragged-throated screams and the acrid scent of flesh burning, it would have
been a cozy winter day. A gentle, fluttering warmth emanated from the fire and
it cast a pretty glimmer of dancing light. If only I’d had some marshmallows.
Leave it to the aliens to ruin a good time.
Those who hadn’t been toasted scattered away from the flames, which still
flashed virulent amongst their brethren. I popped off a few more shots,
targeting those who were close enough to make the shots count, before pulling
back a bit.
I’d a pretty good idea who was providing
the air cover, but I wanted to be sure. My eyes spotted Rala as she circled a
nearby building and came about for another pass. Her appearance answered my
question as to whether she could spit fire. Wyvern my ass.
She’d split the alien ranks on her first go
so she wouldn’t manage to get anywhere near the same number on her next pass. That
didn’t stop her from trying. She swooped low over the scattering crowd, dodging
the spears hurled her direction and let loose another gout of flames. Only a
few fell this time, the aliens too spread out to provide a solid target for
her. I capped a few more to add to the count and drifted in the general
direction she was headed. If her earlier display was any reference, it wouldn’t
be long before she sputtered and ran out of gas.
I still didn’t know whether to trust the
girl, as she’d help direct us after the Eidolon, but nothing she’d done made me
think she was one of the bad guys. Seemed more like she was just as confused and
misled about who was who as I was. Regardless of all that, she’d the opportunity
to light me up and didn’t take it, so that was points in her favor. I’d have to
trust our goals coincided enough that we could worry about our differences
later. Now wasn’t a good time.
The aliens had maneuvered their way around
the burning terrain and smoking companions, and were headed my way once more.
Longinus and Gorath were still going at it beyond the mass of aliens. It didn’t
smell like victory from where I was standing. In close, Gorath was bleeding out
the ex-AC with brutal precision. While Longinus seemed to be keeping him from delivering
the killing blow, each slash whittled away at his borrowed vigor. His skin was
pale, and what parts weren’t covered in blood were covered in sweat. The glare
of his eyes was dimming, and I knew we were running out of time.
Rala’s pained scream drew my eyes to her.
As she veered through the sky, she sprouted a new appendage, a spear appearing
in her side. Green ooze gushed and she was suddenly a girl again…and falling.
Deep down, my brain rationalized Longinus was more important, that I needed to save
him first, but the essence of me, who I am at the very core of my being, was a
realist. I’d shot Gorath and he shrugged it off, and Longinus had absconded
with the only other weapon I might have used against the alien: my magic. This
wasn’t about winning any more. It was survival.
I turned my back on Longinus and ran after
Rala, putting my guns away to free my hands. There was no doubt in my mind I
was only delaying the inevitable, but the part of me that still loved and
respected my mother, demanded I do what I could to save the girl. If me and
Longinus were gonna die here and now, Karra’s fate left indeterminate in the
balance, my unborn child’s life spent before it had even begun, I needed to go
out on a positive note. I needed to know something had come of all this.
Rala fell from the sky, and I ran beneath
her, holding my arms out to catch her and keep from accidentally impaling her
deeper with the spear. She thumped into my grasp and groaned, her head snapping
back at an awkward angle. She might well have been a feather she was so light.
“You should have gone after the alien,” I
muttered, more to myself than her, mad for not having suggested it earlier.
“The Aliterean?” her voice was so weak the
words tumbled from her lips.
I shushed her. Her eyes fluttered as I
surveyed the wound. It wasn’t horrible but it was bleeding freely around the
shaft. Its sharp tang roiled my stomach as I pulled the spear free and pinned
my palm against the wound. It wasn’t best of medical decisions, but to leave
the weapon in her while I ran would be to kill her for certain. I was banking
on hope.
Apparently, the check bounced.
White light exploded inside my head,
brilliance spilling through my eyes and blinding me. There was a disconnected
thump, my knees hitting the ground, followed by another, and then there was
pain. Clarity came on its heels.
My eyes popped open as a spear was driven
into my back, skewering my kidney. The point pushed through the front, and I
watched as it tore loose of my flesh. Blood and pieces of meat and skin hung
off the tip, dripping with a deep crimson. Rala lay curled on the ground before
me. She didn’t react to the sudden wash of blood that rained down atop her.
Another spear was driven into my shoulder,
the blade grinding into the bone. The alien twisted the shaft and pulled me
back, yanking me away from the girl. A dozen hands scrabbled over me, pulling
at my holsters and guns. In the blink of an eye, they’d been taken away and
dumped without ceremony on the ground, just out of my reach.
Several more blows landed as I was dragged
further from Rala by the spears embedded in me. I heard the sharp crack of bone
snapping, vertigo setting in as my left eye rolled loose in the broken socket.
A warm wetness spilled across my lips and chin, and I tasted the coppery tang
of my blood. My thoughts reeled, some deep, inner sense grateful I couldn’t
feel all of what was being done to me, the agony overwhelming my nerves.