The Horsemen Gather: An Urban Fantasy Action Adventure (The Unbelievable Mr. Brownstone Book 17)

by Michael Anderle

“That’s the spirit, boss.” The driver pulled the throttle back even more and slowed the boat to a crawl toward the beach. “Your boots waterproof?”

  Shay nodded. “Yeah.” She slipped her backpack on and nodded to James.

  He also put on his backpack and checked all the straps on his tactical vest.

  The driver killed the engine, letting the skiff drift forward until it stopped in the shallow water.

  Shay hopped out of the boat, the water splashing around her boots. James followed. A few steps took both of them into the wet sand of the rocky beach.

  The driver waved and put the boat in reverse. “Don’t die. I need the other half of your money.”

  Shay smirked. “We’ll keep that in mind.”

  James looked around the dense trees. “You said there are no monsters on the island?”

  Shay shook her head. “I said I hadn’t heard anything about monsters on the island. It’s like our friend on the boat said. I’ve mostly heard that rebels occasionally use the island. If there were a bunch of monsters on it, I doubt they would hang out there, even if they have wizards with them.”

  They continued toward the tree line.

  James looked over his shoulder at the retreating boat. “Why hasn’t anyone found the map, then?”

  “Because they didn’t know it was here. Even if they did, they didn’t have the activation incantations that Smite-Williams passed along to me to reveal the stupid thing.” Shay made a pained face. “Or if they did, they didn’t have the patience to go through dozens of them. Love how he didn’t mention that part until we were just about to leave.”

  James chuckled. “Saying shit’s less annoying than fighting.” Pain shot through his ears, and he grimaced.

  “What’s wrong?” Shay looked concerned.

  James held up a hand. “It’s fine.” The pain faded. “Just Whispy readjusting my ears to land mode.”

  “Huh. That makes sense.”

  Inner ear fluid balance readjusting for maximum land efficiency, Whispy reported.

  Shay knelt and pulled her backpack off. She reached inside and removed a metal box. She flipped the lid and pulled out two folded-up microdrones. After unfolding the drones, she wiped off their solar cells and set them on the ground.

  James slipped in his ear receiver, and Shay did as well. She took a moment to link the receivers with her satellite phone.

  “Are you there, Peyton?” Shay asked.

  Peyton’s loud, long yawn came through the receiver. “It’s past my bedtime. I should get overtime.”

  They’d decided that Peyton would take first support watch, and Heather would sleep and take over by the time it hit the evening local time, which would be morning for her and Peyton. Time zones were the eternal bane of international jobs.

  A whine came from the two drones, and they rose.

  “These aren’t the best, but nice for a quick island hop,” Peyton explained.

  “I didn’t want to haul more than we could easily carry with us,” Shay explained. “Especially since this was a quick island hop, and things are unstable because of the war. It’s also why I didn’t bring the tachi. It might stand out a bit.”

  “You just brought Brownstone,” Peyton observed.

  “True, but he just looks like any other thug mercenary around here.’

  James chuckled. “’Any other thug mercenary?’”

  “Well, a handsome one.” Shay winked.

  Peyton cleared his throat. “If you could stop flirting for a second, I’ve got some information for you. According to the satellite density scans, you should just head northeast from your current position. Walking a few miles inland should bring you to the ruins, and it looks like most of the old stone road is still there, so it won’t be a painful walk.”

  Shay pulled out her phone and brought up the compass app before nodding. “Easy enough.” She grabbed her backpack and put it back over her shoulders. “If we’re lucky, we won’t even run into any rebels.”

  Thirty minutes later, they were walking along the remnants of a stone road in the center of the forest. The high trees surrounding them protected them from the worst of the midday sun, but their sparse placement allowed plenty of the blue sky to peep through.

  “Trouble,” Peyton reported.

  James grunted and slowed his pace. “Trouble?”

  Shay frowned and pulled out her 9mm. “Care to elaborate?”

  “I’ve tagged ten guys coming your way, nine with rifles and one with some sort of gold-tipped wooden staff. They are creeping along slowly. I think they were hoping for an ambush. Hard for me to make out a lot of details with the drones from a distance, but if I get any closer, they’ll probably take it out. Wait.”

  Shay furrowed her brow. “What’s wrong?”

  Thunder echoed through the forest.

  “What the hell was that?” James asked.

  Peyton groaned. “Yeah, the staff is the guy’s wand. He just took out both the drones with some sort of lightning spell.”

  Shay chuckled. “So now they know they won’t be able to ambush us. They’ll probably rush us instead.”

  “Good,” James replied. “It helps to get shit over with.”

  Minimum adaptation potential, Whispy complained. Kill enemies and proceed to stronger enemies for maximum adaptation potential.

  Several men shouted in the distance. Shay activated her defensive artifacts but didn’t raise her gun. James folded his arms over his chest and waited.

  Men in green and yellow camouflage uniforms emerged from the trees, their AKs pointed at James and Shay. Their wizard brought up the rear with his gold-topped dark wood staff. They sprinted toward the couple and spread out around them in a half-circle, all shouting.

  They fell silent as the wizard stepped forward and grinned at James. “Too big to be a tourist.” His gaze cut to Shay’s gun. “And too well-armed for tourists.” He gestured at Shay. “And the magical silver around your skin. Some sort of artifact? More tomb raiders who have come to pick the carcass of the Sultanate clean? You’re hundreds of years too late, but your kind keeps coming.”

  “I’m not going to deny I’m a tomb raider, but what I’m looking for isn’t valuable to you,” Shay replied. “You probably won’t believe this, but me getting what I’m looking for will actually benefit you, along with a lot of other people on Earth in the long run. So, why don’t you guys all turn around and leave us alone? There doesn’t have to be trouble.”

  He chuckled and said something to his men in a mixture of Arabic and Swahili. They all laughed.

  “Put down your weapons, tomb raider,” the wizard ordered. “I’m sure there’s someone back in Australia who is willing to pay for you.”

  James grunted. “Australia? We’re Americans.”

  The wizard shrugged. “All your accents sound the same to me.”

  “How the fuck does an American accent sound the same as an Australian accent?”

  Shay eyed James. “Is this really the conversation we need to be having right now?”

  Kill the enemy, Whispy recommended.

  I’m thinking about it.

  James cracked his knuckles and stepped forward. “I’m James Brownstone. I don’t give a shit about your rebellion; I’m just here to help her get something. We don’t have time to drag your ass somewhere for a bounty, so you can back the fuck off, or you can die.”

  The wizard looked him up and down. “James Brownstone?” He turned to his men and shrugged. “James Brownstone?”

  They all shrugged back.

  Shay snickered. “You need better PR in East Africa, apparently.”

  James grunted. It didn’t matter if they didn’t know who he was. A reputation was just a record of achievements, and he could start a new record there with these men.

  He stepped toward the wizard. The men all shouted and pointed their guns at his chest.

  “Better shoot me,” James rumbled. “Or better yet, get the fuck out of my way, because if you don’t, I’m gonna f
orce you the fuck out of my way.”

  The wizard snorted. “Kill him.”

  The men fired in near perfect synchronicity, a crack volley of high-powered bullets that would have shredded most men. The bullets ripped through his overshirt and t-shirt before bouncing off his hardened skin.

  Maximum adaptation achieved against attack type, Whispy observed.

  James shrugged. “That all you got? Fuck, at this rate, there’s no way you’ll win your little rebellion.”

  The wizard pointed at James’ head. “Shoot him there, fools.”

  Nine bullets struck his head but left only a few scratches.

  The men took a few steps back, fear on their faces.

  The wizard muttered something under his breath before pointing his staff at James’ chest. Sparks danced around the tip for a few seconds before a white bolt crackled from the staff and slammed into James’ chest.

  The acrid scent of his charred clothing filled the air. The attack blew a hole through his shirt and undershirt and singed his tactical vest, but it’d only left him with a slight sting and some redness. The damage to his clothes revealed the amulet beneath.

  Maximum adaptation achieved against attack type, Whispy observed.

  The wizard’s eyes widened as he also stepped back. “You have a powerful artifact.”

  James nodded. “You want to keep this shit up or should I just kill you now? We don’t have time for too much fun.”

  The wizard sprinted for the trees, and the other men fell in behind him.

  Shay laughed and holstered her gun. “Now that wasn’t very fair.”

  James’ eyes flicked down for a moment as he took in his chest. With the amulet half-embedded and the shape of the many tendrils visible beneath his skin, it must have looked like the amulet was trying to consume him. In a way, that was true.

  “They were the dumbasses who attacked us without knowing if they could win,” James muttered. “Not my fault they didn’t know who they were fucking with. At least they were smart enough to run away.”

  Shay shook her head. “No, that’s not what I’m getting at.”

  “What then?”

  “They shot you with bullets and a spell, and I didn’t get a chance to threaten them before they ran.”

  “That important?” James asked.

  “No. Just fun. You’re not the only one who likes to screw with people’s heads.” Shay pointed into the forest. “We should get going.” They had walked only a few yards when she spoke next. “Peyton, you still there?”

  “Yes, I’m still here,” the hacker responded.

  “I’ll get another microdrone up and running, but it’s the last one,” Shay explained. “You’ll still need to watch our asses once we find the place in case those assholes decide to come back with something more impressive, like a tank.”

  “Okay,” Peyton responded, half-yawning. “I’ll double-check all your flight stuff out of the country and go get something with caffeine.”

  “Thanks.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  No one else bothered Shay and James during the rest of their hike through the forest. The ruins consisted of piles of old stones and a few half-standing walls. Something impressive might have once stood on the island, but nature, or perhaps other tomb raiders past and present, had long since stripped it down to its current sad state. The remnants of the stone road leading to the ruins were more impressive than anything at the site.

  Shay pulled her AR goggles out of her backpack and slipped them on. She set them to thermal mode, and soon found a noticeable thermal differential in a round shape in the ground and walked to the shrub-covered dirt. “I think this is going to get annoying, or at least as annoying as a normal archaeological dig, but it’s as good a time as any to get used to it.”

  James headed toward her. “Why? What’s wrong?”

  Shay pulled a collapsible shovel off the side of her backpack and expanded it. “Because I’m pretty sure this is the entrance to the tunnel. Underground, anyway. According to the Professor’s briefing information, I should be able to put my hand on the entrance and say the opening incantation and get inside, but I’ve got to be able to touch it directly for that to work.”

  “That doesn’t sound so bad.” James stared at the ground.

  “Sure, but it means we’ve got to dig it up. From what I can tell with my goggles, it’s a few feet down and at an angle. Any explosives might collapse the tunnel, so it’s time for some good old-fashioned digging. It’s interesting, though.” Shay scratched her eyelid. “I looked over satellite imagery in different bands for this area, and so did Peyton. According to all those images, there’s nothing buried on this island.”

  “Cover-up?” James suggested.

  “Maybe, or possibly just a decent spell. Even if the people who set it up didn’t know about satellites, it might have been some sort of general defense to protect it from tracking from far away.” Shay crouched and picked at the dirt. “One thing doing this job has taught me is never to underestimate the ancients.”

  “It doesn’t matter. We’re here now.” James grunted and held his hand out. “Give me the shovel. I’ll get this shit finished as soon as possible.”

  Shay passed the shovel to him. “I knew I should have brought two shovels.”

  The minutes went by as James flung dirt and rock over his shoulder with surprising speed. His efforts had revealed most of the dark circular stone door, but Shay was looking for a particular combination of glyphs to touch before she used the entrance incantation. She could detect mild heat emanating from the door with her goggles, but there was nothing to pinpoint the location of the activation glyphs.

  This is what I’ll be doing for the university, too—going around telling other people to dig things up. I’ll be looking for lost secrets with fewer killings. It might be less adrenaline-filled, but still interesting in its own non-lethal way.

  Then again, the very nature of modern archaeology post-opening of the gates added more inherent danger. Many archaeological digs required at least some precautions in case they encountered a bizarre magical trap or threat. If Shay could provide that for herself with the cover that she’d been trained by James Brownstone, people might not even find it odd.

  “Last thing I thought I was gonna do today was dig,” James commented. “Kind of relaxing, even if Whispy bitches every once in a while about finding someone to kill.”

  Shay smirked. “If you want to quit the bounty-hunting game, you would make a good gravedigger.”

  “Probably. I’ve sure sent enough people to their graves.” James’ muscles glistened with the exertion. Although he exercised a lot at home, it’d been a while since he’d done basic physical labor that didn’t involve kicking someone’s ass or hauling around meat, especially in a tropical climate.

  “We still clear, Peyton?” Shay asked. “No tanks or helicopters or wizards riding dragons?”

  “I’m still doing a wide perimeter with the drone, but the satellite info from a few minutes ago showed the rebels on their way to a boat on the opposite side of the island.” Peyton whistled. “You scared them off their own hideout. Nice. You didn’t even have to kill any of them.”

  “I’m less worried about those assholes than I am Fortis agents,” Shay replied, staring at James’ left arm for a moment. Even if he’d regenerated it, that didn’t change the fact that they’d destroyed it, which meant there was a possibility they could hurt him again. He was tough, but he wasn’t invulnerable.

  James continued to shovel, oblivious to Shay’s eyes and concern.

  “I’ve hacked into the systems at Julius Nyerere in Dar es Salaam,” Peyton explained.

  “The airport? Why did you do that?” Shay frowned.

  “So I could also get access to their radar,” Peyton explained. “You’re close enough to the mainland that I might be able to use those as early warning systems if something suspicious and high-speed heads your way. Also doing my best to keep you in sight with different satel
lites. The drone might not be the most effective, but I’ve got your back. The only thing is, I’m going to lose you once you go underground.”

  “We’ll be fine underground,” Shay replied. “There might be some zombies or monsters or giant spiders or whatever down there, but we’re expecting that. I just don’t want to be surprised by any assholes with alien ray guns.”

  James grunted as he launched another shovelful of dirt away from the hole. He’d now completely revealed the massive circular door leading into the tunnels beneath them. He jammed the shovel blade into the ground and wiped the sweat off his brow.

  “Not a bad hole. And Whispy’s already immune to their weird-ass gun,” he explained. “Not worried about it anymore. I think they’re out of tricks.”

  “But they might have another weird-ass gun,” Shay replied.

  James shrugged. “Sounds fun.”

  Shay sighed and shook her head. “Just watch our asses, okay, Peyton?”

  “Will do.”

  James nodded to the door. “Now that I’ve done all the hard work, you gonna come and open it and take all the credit?”

  Shay grinned and headed toward the door, looking it over until she found the symbols she sought in the upper-right. “Something like that.” She placed her hand on the symbols and rattled off the Arabic phrase she’d memorized from the briefing materials. “Hope this works.”

  Nothing happened.

  “Shit. Maybe we will have to blow—”

  With a loud crunch, the doorway slid away, revealing a dark tunnel gently sloping into the ground.

  Shay shrugged. “Or not.” She lowered her goggles and changed them to normal optics before activating her headlamp. “Let’s go find ourselves a map artifact.”

  James fished a headlamp out of his backpack. “I’ll take point. Might get lucky and get exposed to some new attack types.” He stepped inside without waiting for confirmation.

  Shay followed him with a frown. “We’re not sure if you can survive something like being decapitated, so you might want to still be careful.”

  “That’s funny, coming from you.”