The charger beeped and Charles turned around. He stepped in front of Wendell and stared at him for a moment. “So, have you gathered all your thoughts? Are you ready to speak? Or would you rather I torture your friend some more?”
“I believe you’ve conducted enough business with my friend,” Wendell said astutely.
“Oh?” Charles questioned. He placed the end of his cane on Ryker’s forehead “What makes you think that? I have plenty of time, you know. More time than you can imagine. He won’t survive a shock to the head. To be honest, I’m surprised he survived the second shock. He’s strong.”
Wendell smiled. “He’s stronger than you think.”
Charles looked at Wendell for a moment. “I don’t think he—”
Ryker ripped the loose restraint out of the chair and grabbed Charles’s cane. He smashed Charles on the side of the knee, knocking him down. Ryker then tossed the cane in the air, caught it by the back end, and pressed the live end to Charles’s head.
“If I wouldn’t survive it, I know you won’t,” Ryker said. He showed a bloody smile, and pressed the button.
Charles’s eyes rolled back as his body shook and twitched. His mouth hung open in a silent scream and blood poured from his nostrils and ears. Ryker released the button and Charles fell over backward, limp.
“Well done,” Wendell said excitedly.
Ryker spat blood and looked at Wendell. “There’s no way I was letting him do that to me again,” he said, his voice low. He dropped the cane and freed himself from the chair, then released Wendell.
“How do we get out of here? We don’t even know where we are,” Wendell asked.
Ryker picked up the cane and charged it. “I’m not sure. But I’m guessing we may have to fight our way out.”
Wendell opened a short, wide crate in the corner of the room and his face lit up. Strapped to the inside of the top was a repeater rifle and ten cartridges lay in the bottom. He unstrapped the rifle, loaded it, and shoved the rest of the cartridges in his pockets. “I’m ready for a fight,” he said, smiling.
Ryker searched Charles’s body, but found nothing. He searched the jacket and found a five-inch long tube in an inside pocket. He opened it and pulled out a rolled-up blueprint. He unrolled it on the table.
Wendell approached and stared at the sketch. “What is it?” he asked.
“I have no idea,” Ryker answered. Blood dripped onto the blueprint. He wiped his nose and looked at the blood on his hand.
“We’d better get you some help,” Wendell said. “We can figure this out later. We have to get out of here.”
Ryker rolled up the blueprint and put it back into the tube. He slid the tube into an inside pocket of his jacket.”
There was a knock at the door. “Is everything alright in there, sir?” a voice called.
Ryker held a finger to his lips and stood next to the door. Wendell stood on the other side of the door and waited. He gripped his rifle tightly as the guard unlocked the door and swung it open. When the guard rushed in, Ryker swung the cane. The guard choked as the cane struck his throat and sent him to his back. Wendell delivered a crushing blow to the guard’s head with the butt of his rifle.
Ryker nodded and they rushed out of the room.
They stood at the last door of a long hallway. The door was marked with the number ten.
“These must be all the holding rooms,” Wendell said. “Who knows who else could be in any of these rooms?”
“We don’t have time to find out,” Ryker answered. They ran down the hall to a door and slowly opened it. Wendell poked the barrel of his rifle through first, and then eased into the room—a stairwell.
Wendell led as they walked up the stairs. He kept his rifle aimed up; sights eye-level. When they were about five steps from the top of the stairs, the door swung open and the lobby receptionist stood in the doorway. She gasped and took a step back.
Ryker, knowing Wendell wouldn’t hesitate to shoot her, grabbed him and pulled him back. He lunged up the stairs and grabbed the receptionist by the back of her dress. He yanked her backward and dragged her back into the stairwell. He then slammed her against the wall. Tears streamed down her cheeks and she sobbed quietly.
“Look,” Ryker said quietly, teeth gritted. “What did you tell the other inventors about us? Do they know?”
The receptionist continued to cry. Ryker shook her once and she shrieked. “What do they know?” he snarled.
“Nothing,” she said through her tears. She choked and coughed. “We didn’t tell them anything.”
“Good,” Ryker answered. “You’re going to find Charles’s body downstairs, and you’re going to tell the papers he died of a heart attack. Do you understand?”
She continued to cry.
Ryker shook her once more and she shrieked again. She nodded and Ryker released her. He remained close as they entered the lobby and she returned to her desk, still crying.
“Where is my pistol?” Ryker questioned.
She reached under her desk, but Wendell raised his rifle. “Don’t even think about pressing that button again.”
She slid opened a drawer and removed Ryker’s revolver. She handed it to him and Ryker snatched it out of her hand. He examined it closely, flipped out the cylinder to check the ammo, and spun it closed. “Remember, we were never here.”
The receptionist nodded and watched as Wendell and Ryker left the headquarters.
Chapter 6
Ryker and Wendell burst into Ryker’s lab and locked the door behind them. They rushed upstairs and Ryker set the cane on a chair and sprawled out the blueprints on his desk.
Sketched out on the paper was a large circle with two smaller circles inside it that looked like eyes. The right eye was larger than the left and was labeled “Thermal.” The smaller eye was labeled “X-Ray,” and a small rectangle at the bottom was labeled “Targeting Sensor.” A small circle was attached at the bottom labeled “Gatling.” Two blades were attached at the top labeled “Propellers,” and a curved pipe protruded from the left side labeled “Pressure Release.”
“What is this?” Wendell asked.
“It’s labeled S.P.E.A.R.,” Ryker said.
“Spear?” Wendell questioned.
Ryker read from the bottom left of the blueprint. “Steam-Powered Execution and Retaliation Device.”
“Execution?” Wendell asked. “That doesn’t sound good.”
“No it doesn’t,” Ryker answered. “We need to get into that file room in the League Headquarters. I’ll bet there’s more information about it in there.”
“You want to go back in there?” Wendell protested. He stepped in front of Ryker. “How do you propose we do that? You may have scared that receptionist for now, but I’ll bet they’re going to double their guards.”
“Well I guess we’ll have to sneak in then,” Ryker answered.
Wendell stared at Ryker. “There must be some other way to find out about it. We can’t go back there, Ryker. We’ll be killed for sure.”
“You don’t have to go, Wendell.”
Wendell continued his stare. “I… I don’t know. I don’t think I can go through with it. We’re not soldiers, Ryker. We’re inventors. Machinists. Creators.”
“Look, Wendell, if this Spear thing is half as bad as it sounds, we might have to become soldiers.”
“How do you know?” Wendell shouted. He extended his arms. “How do you know this isn’t for our own protection? Maybe this is going to help us.”
“After what Charles just put me through, you think he’s trying to help us? Don’t be ridiculous, Wendell. These people only care about money. How do we know they aren’t being paid by pirates to build these machines?”
“Pirates?” Wendell cried. “You think pirates are behind this? You think the League of Inventors is working with pirates? Come on, Ryker, what they did to us was bad, but there’s no way they‘re working with pirates!”
“Who’s working with pirates?” a female voice sounded
from the top of the stairs.
Wendell and Ryker turned to see Celia.
“Ryker thinks that the League of Inventors is working with the pirates to create some kind of death machine!”
“Well, I don’t know anything about that,” Celia answered.
“How did you get in here, Celia?” Ryker asked. Although he was sure he already knew the answer.
“You saw the way I took off the cuffs,” she answered with a smile. Wendell shook his head. “What happened to you?” she asked, concerned. She rushed to him and wiped dried blood from under his nose. “It looks like someone tortured you!” She felt the hole in his shirt. Ryker winced as she touched his burned flesh.
“You could say that,” Ryker answered.
“Who did this?” she questioned. She looked back and forth at Wendell and Ryker.
“The League of Inventors,” Wendell answered quietly.
“What reason would they have to do that?” she asked. She pushed Ryker toward his clothing chest to get some different clothes while she grabbed a rag from a pile in the corner.
“It’s a long story,” Wendell grumbled.
Ryker buttoned up a new black shirt and put on a black and gray striped waistcoat.
“But, I need to get back in there, tonight,” Ryker stated.
Celia dampened the cloth with her tongue and cleaned the rest of the dried blood from his face. “No,” Celia said sternly. “You’re not going tonight. If you feel the way you look right now, then you’re in no condition to do anything but rest.”
“You don’t understand, our safety is in danger—”
“I don’t care, Ryker,” Celia said sternly.
“Listen to her, Ryker,” Wendell said. “If you’re going to do this, at least take some time to plan it out.”
Ryker sighed. He put a hand over the burn on his chest and winced with pain.
“Where did this cane come from?” Celia asked. She picked it up and examined it. She took a few steps, tapping it on the floor as she walked.
Wendell grabbed it from her, almost knocking her to the floor. “Don’t play with that,” he snapped.
“What is the matter with you?”
“I need to figure this thing out. It’s not just a cane you know.
Celia looked at him.
Wendell flipped up the top end, revealing the button. “This is what burned Ryker so badly. I need to figure out a way to charge it, and see if I can get more than one charge out of it.”
“What does it do?”
“When this button is pressed, it emits a very powerful energy. Ryker is lucky to be alive after two hits from it.” He faced Ryker. “That’s also why I won’t be joining you on your little escapade. I don’t want to risk getting into that kind of trouble again.”
“Then I’ll go on my own,” Ryker answered.
“You’re not going anywhere on your own,” Celia stated firmly. “Besides, you’ll need someone to help you break in. And that happens to be my specialty.”
“Isn’t pleasure your specialty?” Wendell asked.
Celia smirked. “Well, that too.”
“Fine,” Ryker said after several moments of silence. “We’ll rest up tonight and during the day tomorrow, and then we’ll break into the headquarters tomorrow night.”
“See if you can find anything on the guy we were originally supposed to be looking for,” Wendell added. “He may be of some importance.”
Chapter 7
The following morning, Ryker climbed out of bed, being careful not to wake Celia who lay snoring quietly next to him. Realizing he was still naked, he silently dressed himself. He walked into his common room where Wendell lay sleeping on the couch, the cane clutched tightly to his body.
Ryker looked out the window. It was dawn and the sun was just beginning to rise. He gasped and ran outside to a body in the middle of the street. A pool of blood lay around the corpse.
The body had two gunshot wounds in his stomach, and his white lab coat was stained crimson. The outside edges of his bullet holes on his lab coat were scorched, indicating he was shot at point-blank range.
“What’s going on?” Celia’s voice called from the doorway.
Ryker looked back at her. “Get Wendell out here,” he ordered.
Celia went back inside and returned with Wendell who still looked half-asleep. “What’s going on?” Wendell asked grumpily. He rubbed the exhaustion from his eyes, but became very serious as he walked up next to Ryker.
“Does he look familiar to you?” Ryker asked.
Wendell knelt next to the body. “This looks like the guy we called from the communicator.”
“That’s what I was afraid of,” Ryker said grimly.
“Do you know this man?” Celia asked.
“Not really, but I’m getting a pretty bad feeling about this whole situation. Something definitely isn’t right,” Ryker said. He searched the body and found a League of Inventors communicator.
“We don’t even know if they’re connected,” Wendell said.
“Two men from the League of Inventors are murdered in two days. It sure seems like they would be connected,” Ryker said.
“What do you think he was doing out here?” Celia asked.
“Do you think he knew about us? About what happened at the headquarters?” Wendell asked. He looked up at Ryker.
“I’m not sure,” Ryker answered. He stared at the dead man’s face. “Contact the Bobbies.”
Wendell pulled out his communicator and called the Head Magistrate’s office.
“Who could be doing this?” Celia asked.
Ryker thought for a moment. “I’m not sure,” he answered. His voice was low.
“Strange,” Celia said.
“Bobbies are on their way,” Wendell said.
“Good.” Ryker answered. He turned to Wendell. “You wait here for them to arrive. Make sure you make it very clear that we didn’t have anything to do with it. Hopefully they weren’t tipped off about what happened at the League Headquarters.”
Wendell nodded.
“Celia, you come with me up to the second floor. We’ll need to start planning for tonight,” Ryker said commandingly.
Celia nodded. “I never liked Bobbies anyway,” she added as they walked away.
“What kind of security are we up against?” Celia asked as she sat down in the squeaky chair behind Ryker’s desk.
“I’m not really sure,” Ryker confessed.
Celia tapped her finger on the iron desk. “So, we’re going in blind, essentially?”
“I know they have mechanical felines,” Ryker said.
“Great,” Celia answered sarcastically. “What about an outside night patrol?”
“As far as I know, there is none aside from the zeppelin. But, I’ll bring my specs just in case.” He moved in front of her, grabbed her hands, and gently pulled her to her feet. He looked into her eyes. “Thank you for helping me,” he said graciously.
Celia smiled. “There’s no way I’d let you do this on your own. You don’t know the first thing about breaking into a place.” She laughed.
“Good thing I’ve got you,” he smiled.
Celia stared at him for a moment. She looked deeply into his red eyes. She felt the warmth and the strength of his hands.
Ryker stared back at her. Her eyes were calm, warm, and inviting. He’d wished that she didn’t have to run off with her clients every night. He’d secretly wished he could ask her to stay with him. But he knew she would never go for it.
Celia squeezed his hands gently. Her eyes lingered to his lips, her heart began to race and her stomach began to knot. She was surprised. This had never happened in his presence before, aside from when she provided her services for him. She’d never felt the rush of adrenaline like this. She hadn’t realized she was holding her breath.
“I wonder how Wendell is doing with the Bobbies.” Celia asked. She released his hands and exhaled. Ryker’s eyes dropped as she stepped away from him. “I’ve had
too many encounters with them myself. I’d rather not have another. You should go check on him.”
Ryker sighed. “I suppose you’re right,” he answered. He looked at her a moment longer before going outside.
Outside, Wendell stood over the body with two Bobbies. The officers were outfitted in their fancy black uniforms and black, bell-shaped hats. The hats seemed quite ridiculous to Ryker. “How goes things, gentlemen?” Ryker asked.
The Bobbies finished scribbling notes on their pads and looked up at Ryker. “The gnome here says you found the body, correct?” one of the officers asked.
“That’s true, sir,” Ryker answered as he stared at the officer’s thick mustache.
“This is exactly how you found him?” the officer asked.
“Yes sir,” Ryker answered.
“Very well. We’ll get somebody out here to remove the body. But we may need you for further questioning, so don’t leave the city.”
Ryker nodded and the officers left. “Did they give you any trouble?” he asked.
“None to speak of,” Wendell answered plainly. “Did you figure out a plan for tonight?” he asked.
“Indeed we did,” Ryker answered. “Are you sure you don’t want to join us?”
“Positive,” Wendell answered. “I’ll stay here and see what I can do with that cane. A weapon like that could prove to be quite useful.”
“I do suppose you’re correct,” Ryker answered. He placed a hand on Wendell’s shoulder and looked at the body. “I certainly do hope they figure out who is killing off these inventors. Keep an eye on his communicator. Creator Desmond’s communicator is how I found out about this poor fellow. If someone calls him, we may be able to save this next guy.”
Wendell shook his head, knelt down, and closed the dead inventor’s lifeless eyes.
“Let’s get back inside and I’ll help you get to work on that cane,” Ryker said.
Chapter 8
They worked on the cane for several hours, but only managed to alter it enough to get two hits out of it before having to charge it again.
London Darkness- Infernal Inventions Page 4
