The Axeboy's Blues (The Agents Of Book 1)

by Andy Reynolds

  “Damn it!” yelled Julius, then turned to the man on his back. “Hold on!” Julius reached out and grabbed the swinging rope ladder, then looked up in time to see the cloud of Oblivion pass above him, sucking a section of the ladder into itself. Julius braced himself as the ladder swung down below him, with the weight of the few musicians left dangling from his fist as glass shards from the broken window pressed into the stub of his other arm. He roared out, bringing a little of the animal from within – just enough to give him strength without scaring the musician on his back.

  “Climb down my arm and onto the ladder!” he told the man on his back, who very carefully complied.

  Wincing from the pain of the glass shards cutting into him, Julius looked up as the cloud of Oblivion drifted down closer to him, slowing down as it passed as if to ask him if he wanted in. It pulled at his shoulder and his forehead, and he just stared deep into the flashing streaks of light, letting them sear his vision. For a moment he felt the tug-of-war between the piece of Oblivion and the weight of the musicians hanging from his fist. “You don't want this,” he growled, shaking his head. “You don't want me in there. Trust me on that.”

  The cloud kept passing by, and the weight of the players lessened as they dismounted ladder – until it was just the rope dangling from his fist. Looking up, he saw Roman leaping back and forth between Building C and the next rooftop over – carrying musicians over on his back, transferring them to a safer rooftop.

  Julius considered letting himself fall to the ground when he felt the bottom of the ladder move. Looking below him, all he saw was a mass of dark feathers as The Angel of Death flew up past him gripping the bottom of the ladder. “Roman needs your help!” she said, flying up towards the rooftops.

  But Julius wound the rope around his fist and held onto the window ledge with the stump of his arm, then yanked her back down until she was eye level with him. “I should have never trusted you!” he growled, claws sliding out of his fingers as his grip tightened on the rope.

  “There'll be time for that later!” she yelled. “Roman is losing!”

  Julius growled and nodded, and The Angel flew back upward. He let go of the window and let her pull him up through the air. He pushed the animal parts of him back inside, then when she'd carried him over the rooftop, he let go and landed awkwardly with his metal leg. Nearly the whole rooftop was covered in Oblivion and there were still over a dozen trumpet players left.

  Roman suddenly landed on the edge of the roof in a crouch, then stood up. Julius' mind raced over possible solutions and their dangers, and he knew that Roman was doing the same.

  “Throw them!” yelled The Angel of Death from across the street.

  Looking over, Julius saw her hovering near the second-floor balcony of a building across Dauphine Street. She flew closer to the large window that lead to the balcony and ripped it off, tossing it down to the street. “I can catch them faster than you two can throw them!”

  Julius turned to the musicians, who were huddled around him and Roman for fear of the enclosing Oblivion. Julius grabbed the front of one man's shirt in his fist, lifting him off the ground.

  “Wait!” said the man. “I don't know about this.”

  “I do.” Julius turned and hurled the man screaming through the air.

  The Angel flew up and caught the man, the force of the catch pushing her back through the air towards the building. She placed him on the balcony and he ran into the building through the open window.

  Julius turned to grab another musician and Roman was already throwing a screaming woman through the air. Julius saw the fear in the eyes of the dozen who were left. “Your choices are Oblivion,” he said, pointing towards the clouds bursting with light all around them, “or being thrown across a street and living! So close your eyes and sit tight!”

  He hefted another man into the air by the shirt, turned and hurled him across the street. They continued to throw musicians over Dauphine Street as Oblivion crept ever closer, and as they neared the end of the trumpet players, Julius turned to Roman. “Get ready to jump.”

  In one fluid motion, Roman grabbed the second to the last musician, threw them and walked off the edge of the roof, most likely falling down to one of the balconies. Julius and the last musician were surrounded by Oblivion, and a piece was floating down from above. He grabbed the musician and threw them forward, hoping The Angel could get to them, then jumped forward himself, feeling Oblivion pull at the edges of his body in nearly every direction.

  He definitely wasn't going to make the balconies, and hitting the ground was going to hurt. As he fell toward Dauphine Street with his body righting itself so that his legs were beneath him, he watched as The Angel of Death swooped out and caught the musician, then flew towards him and reaching down to take his hand.

  For a moment he considered hitting the ground rather than taking her hand, but reached out and grabbed it. Her wings unfolded above her, covering the Oblivion sky as she slowed their descent to the street, where musicians were filing out of the building she'd put them in. He let go and dropped to the ground, and she set the musician down next to him.

  “I'm going to get the others,” she said, then flew up to the four-story building where Roman had been putting musicians, bringing them down dangling from her arms two-at-a-time.

  Julius turned to the musicians. “As soon as we've got everyone gathered here, we'll be taking you to safety! Just sit tight.”

  A few minutes later, when The Angel brought down the last couple of musicians, she landed next to Julius and Roman. “I should go. Adelaide can't know that I'm working with you. And you should make sure to keep these musicians away from her, in case they tell stories of me aiding you.”

  “Thank you for your help,” said Roman.

  “This changes nothing,” said Julius. “Pray you never need our help, Sarah, because I will never trust you again.”

  “I... I swear to you, Julius – I didn't know about Oblivion breaking apart. My son is unconscious, and he didn't realize that trumpet players were getting sucked in.”

  Julius nodded but said nothing.

  The Angel lowered her head, turned and leaped into the air, her black wings unfolding out around her, then vanished.

  File 77 :: [Mars]

  Adelaide and Mars had finished gathering up the musicians from their respective buildings and packed them into the silent party buses.

  Mars climbed into the driver's seat of the purple bus and started it up, making sure that it worked after Adelaide had blown out all the windows. It sounded a little iffy, but would hopefully get them back to the living world. Seeing Julius and Roman walking up the street with the last cluster of musicians, she grabbed the net gun, left the bus running and hopped out. She'd still been carrying the gun around, even though it was cracked with pieces dangling off of it, and no longer lit up – it just made her feel badass.

  She walked up next to Edith and Adelaide. Mars had a hard time imagining Edith lying, but was pretty sure that The Angel hadn't “escaped” at all – yet Mars decided that now wasn't the time to bring it up.

  The scene was oddly quiet as they loaded up the last of the musicians onto the buses. Mars figured this was mostly from the collective exhaustion of everyone, but she also noticed that Roman and Julius were still very aware of the streets around them. The mission wouldn't be over until they got back to the living world.

  Mars crawled back into the purple bus, and Julius started up the black bus with Edith to help him steer. They took Dauphine Street back, not having to worry about going the wrong way down the street. Roman stood at the open front door, occasionally sticking his head out to look behind them.

  “See anything?” she asked.

  “No,” he said. “There are still some disturbances back around The French Opera House, but Oblivion should seal itself up soon.”

  “What about our passengers? Do we have to wipe their memories or make them sign something?”

  “The Wonder will take car
e of it,” said Roman. “Most of them will just think they went on a bender or on some crazy adventure. Their minds will mix with the Wonder flowing through the city and come up with something. Those who already know about this side of the world will remember, but they can handle it. And if they tell the stories in bars or at crawfish boils, it'll be what Julius calls 'positive press' for us, which we're always in need of.”

  Soon they reached the large glowing orb that was the other side of the portal created by The Gateway. As soon as Mars drove up the driveway and through through the portal she was blinded by white, piercing sunlight. “Holy hell!” she yelled as she parked with her eyes nearly squinted shut. “What is it, freaking noon already?” The trumpet players behind her moaned for much the same reason. It must be worse for them, she thought, they've been in the night-time world of the Tartarus for days, some of them having been trapped in The Axeboy's axe for weeks before that.

  Roman looked out the door and up at the sky, apparently not phased by the light at all. “I believe it is closer to eleven in the morning.” Roman stepped out and Mars stood up, stretching, then turned to the passengers.

  “Alright, everyone!” she said. “Listen up! We have successfully rescued you. We're currently at Press and Dauphine, and we're about to drive to Canal and the river. If you're from 1934, stay on the bus and we'll get you back to your time period. If you're from this time period, you can get off here and find your way home, or you can get off near Canal.”

  Several trumpet players got up, shook hands with each other and said their goodbyes, then filed out of the bus. Mars looked over at the other bus and saw several trumpet players file out of that one as well. Roman had already shut down the Gateway and was taking it apart.

  Mars stepped out of the bus, the sun feeling good and hot against her skin. She suddenly started to feel the fact that she hadn't slept for well over twenty-four hours. Julius got out of the other bus and walked up to Roman, hobbling a bit more than he had been – she was sure that the false leg had taken a beating. Julius still didn't have a shirt or trench coat, most likely having left them in the Tartarus, and she got her first real look at the scars covering his shoulder and stump. In her eyes those scars made him seem much tougher than knowing he could turn into some crazy half-lion monster.

  She approached them, and Julius was looking down at Roman as he took apart The Gateway.

  “We can hide it in a warehouse and come back for it,” said Julius.

  “It will take me less than half an hour,” said Roman. “And we don't want anyone stealing this. Also, I gave Mars a tutorial on the copying devices, so you don't need me right away.” Roman nodded to Julius' metal leg. “How is it holding up?”

  “It'll need a tune up,” said Julius. “But it's fine for now.”

  Roman nodded. “You go on. I'll meet you there in thirty-five minutes.”

  Julius turned to Mars and nodded to the buses. “We're heading to the quarantine zone. We'll get the people from the thirties inside the zone, then we'll go to HQ and you'll help Edith with the memory extraction.”

  “Got it.” Mars started walking towards the purple bus, but stopped when she saw Julius turn to a small cluster of musicians. They had gotten out of the bus, but hadn't started walking home yet.

  “Who are you all?” one of them asked him.

  “What in the hell just happened?” asked another.

  “We are The Agents Of,” said Julius loudly. “We're here to keep the city of New Orleans safe from forces who would cause harm or destruction.”

  “Thank you so much!” yelled one of them.

  “You're welcome,” he said, his voice quieter. “Go home – go to your families, your friends. Tell those you love that they are loved, and enjoy the spoils of this great city.”

  Watching him turn and walk towards the black bus, Mars realized that she may never truly know Julius. She turned and continued to the purple bus, climbing inside and starting it back up. “Next stop, The Central Business District!” she yelled as she pulled the lever that shut the doors, then pulled out onto the cracked street of Dauphine.

  File 78 :: [The Function]

  The Function gazed up at the bright sun, wiping the sweat from his forehead, then looked out across the thick crowd that had amassed in Fulton Alley around the gazebo. On the outskirts of the festival the restaurants of the area had set up little booths with food to sell. Many of the restaurants had outside seating in the alley, which was packed with diners drinking fancy cocktails and watching the festival. Everyone else was drinking Abita beer and Old New Orleans Rum cocktails, as well as eating jambalaya and gumbo out of paper bowls. On the gazebo-stage one trumpet player had just finished his set and a woman was setting up for her own. One good thing about the festival only using trumpets was that the break down and set up was much faster than most festivals.

  There was probably about twice the amount of security that there would have normally been, as well as several NOPD cars and officers at the mouths of the alley. Evidently people were spooked about the sudden rash of trumpet players going missing.

  The Function turned to Scape. “You seen any of them yet?”

  Scape looked left and right and waved his large, feathery antennae in the air.

  The Function took out his flask and took a swig. “I just have this feeling, you know.” He tapped his heart. “I feel it right here, old friend. It's like all the plans changed and everyone else was told not to show up here. Again, as per usual, everyone thinks, 'Oh, The Function isn't busy, he won't mind standing around in the hot sun listening to trumpets all day. We don't need to tell him that the mission is moved or canceled or whatever. It's not like he has a million things to do.'”

  He looked over at Scape, who didn't seem to mind hanging out at a festival.

  “You hungry?” he asked.

  Scape shrugged, which, though a very common gesture, always looked somewhat odd when done by a mosquito. Then Scape nodded.

  “I don't think it's noon yet,” said The Function. “Want to go grab some poboys from Ernst Café? It's close and they have outside seating, so if people start screaming we'll hear it and we can run back over.” The Function sighed. “But no one is going to scream – because everyone freaking ditched us.”

  Scape reached over with a furry leg and patted The Function on the shoulder, as if to say, It'll be alright.

  “Oh, stop it!” The Function pushed the leg off his shoulder. “Let's go eat.”

  They made their way upriver through the crowd, towards the mouth of the alley.

  File 79 :: [Edith Downs]

  The headache brought on by the sudden sunlight, lack of sleep, and the absence of caffeine in her system started to diminish as the bus made its way through The Quarter down a busy Decatur Street. Edith helped Julius drive, which was quite a bit more nerve-racking with stop and go traffic, bicyclists flying past, and tourists stepping right out in front of them without looking.

  “This is why I never drive through The Quarter,” said Edith. “Especially on the weekend.”

  Adelaide stood behind her, having trapped The Axeboy inside his own axe, which now hung from her hip. Edith felt horrible for lying to Adelaide about The Angel escaping, and she could tell that Julius was pissed off at her about it but not saying anything so that Adelaide wouldn't know.

  They got to the quarantine zone and Edith stepped out into the sun, followed by all of the trumpet players. Mars went over and worked with the Noisician Coalition members to deactivate the “ropes” and let the trumpet players from the 1930s inside.

  Edith walked up to Julius. “I'm going to need some serious coffee for what's ahead, so I'm going to run by my shop before going to headquarters. I'll get some for Mars. Do you want anything?”

  “No, I'm alright. See you in a few minutes.”

  Edith turned and saw William standing around. She smiled and walked up to him. “You want any coffee before you head out? Are you going to go check out Trumpet Fest?”

  “Edi
th,” he whispered. “I'm going to 1934.”

  Edith laughed. “What do you mean?”

  William glanced behind her at Julius, still whispering. “Up on the rooftop, he asked me if I was from '34, and I just said yes. And ever since I said it, I can just feel that it's the right path, the right move for me. Talkin' to all the other players from '34, asking them about their lives, it was all just making so much sense to me. I thought, 'it's a shame I can't have been alive back then.' But I can, Edith. I can go watch the greats, learn from them and maybe even be one of them.”

  Edith's heart sank as she heard him say it. “I... I was hoping I'd get to see you play.”

  “You're finding your place in life.” William took her hand in his. “Now I've got to go find mine.”

  Julius walked up to them. “Everyone from 1934 has to get inside this area. That means you, William.”

  “Wait,” said Edith. “He's coming with us.”

  William turned and looked at her with a sudden sadness in his eyes.

  “Why's that?” asked Julius.

  “Because he's agreed to let me extract some of his memories, before he goes back to '34.”

  “That's right,” said William. “I did, didn't I?”

  “Come on,” said Edith, grabbing his arm and pulling him down the sidewalk. “Come see my shop. I'll get you a cup of coffee if you want.”

  “That sounds divine,” he said.

  File 80 :: [Roman Wing]

  Roman was alone at Dauphine and Press, crouched down and folding up the largest part of The Gateway, collapsing it into a coffin-esque shape, when he sensed someone standing behind him. One of his hands slipped into the inner pocket of his coat.