His limbs shaking, Richard stood on the safe square and thanked us with his eyes. Priest and soldier tipped imaginary hats in return.
Crossing his fingers, Richard tried the square to his left and survived the experience. He moved diagonally and then diagonally again. That stone took his weight for a few seconds then broke clean down the middle. Frantic, Richard hopped to the left against the wall as the last square folded upon itself with the strident sound of colliding anvils. But the square he was on now shimmed and Richard dive rolled forward as it tilted away from the wall in an effort to throw him to the right.
Pausing a moment to catch his breath, the wizard placed a cookie on the stone he was in and then floated back to the earlier safe square. It was a step backwards, but he had to complete the path. Leaving sweat stains on the stone, Richard twice more went straight ahead.
Now, he was facing the wooden door only a single stone away. It made sense that the square directly in front of the door would be safe, for ease of entrance. But the door swung outward, towards the room, so the stone to either side gave limited access.
It was a tough choice. Three squares, one almost certain death. Going for broke, the wizard stepped onto the middle stone. Nothing happened.
Beaming pleasure, Richard placed a cookie there and had one himself. He then released the rope about his waist and tossed the bag to George.
"These are great!” the wizard said happily. “Just like mother used to bake."
George made the catch. “Your mother worked for Nabisco?"
"Shaddup."
"What about the door?” Father Donaher asked, coiling the rope about hand and elbow. “Locked?"
Richard worked the latch. “Unlocked."
"Check for traps,” Jessica suggested warily.
The wizard did by running the tip of his staff along the edge of the door. “Clear,” he announced.
"Any vibrations, sounds, smells?” Mindy asked anxiously.
Richard placed his head to the door and listened. “I hear big breathing."
Big breathing? “Human, or animal?"
"Can't tell."
"Clear the avenue of attack,” I ordered quietly and the team split, moving to the side of the ledge. “On the mark, throw open the door. Rich, stay hidden behind it in case we need a surprise."
He nodded and thumbed the latch on the handle.
"Ready, set, go!"
Pulling the door on top himself, we could see a small room, and completely filling the far wall of the cubicle was a giant face. A huge distorted face, some twelve feet tall. It appeared mostly human, but with odd muscle arrangements and weird peaked eyebrows. Broadly, the thing smiled at us in unabashed pleasure.
"SALUTATIONS!” he boomed cheerfully.
That startled the lot of us. It spoke English?
"It has some kind of a built-in translator,” Jessica said, touching her forehead. “I sense no hostile thoughts, only a tremendous desire to serve."
Friendly, eh? Swell. I cleared my throat. “Ah ... hi there."
"GREETINGS! LONG HAS IT BEEN SINCE I HAVE TALKED TO OTHERS."
"And who are you?” Mindy asked politely.
"I AM, THE GATE."
"The gate to what?"
"BEYOND."
"Beyond what?"
"ME."
This was almost too weird for words and as the conversation could go on till the sun cooled, I decided to speed things along.
"Acknowledged,” I said pretending to force back a yawn. I know a flunky when I see one, and this guy had butler written all over him. “Please, inform us as to your exact purpose and be quick about it."
"YES, SIR. THE MASTERS MADE ME A LIVING BARRIER, DESIGNED TO ALLOW THE ENTRY OF ONLY THE DESERVING."
"And who are the deserving?” Jessica inquired curiously.
I could have cheerfully shot her for saying that. Geez, you never give a servant or guard, a chance to think. Talk fast, move fast. That was my motto.
"YOURSELVES,” he said to our relief. “MY NOSE CAN EASILY SMELL THE MAGIC, THICK AND SWEET, FROM EACH OF YOU."
Huh? Ah! The bracelets. Course, Donaher didn't have one, but then he was a cleric and magic in his own way. Sorta. Kinda. The masters liked magicians, eh? I made a note of that.
Father Donaher raised his voice, “How do you function?"
"STEPPING INTO MY MOUTH GIVES PASSAGE TO THE OTHER SIDE."
Oh brother. Tell me another.
"He has got to be kidding,” the priest muttered, fingering the rosary in his pocket.
Surreptitiously, George tapped his fingers on the satchel charge and I shook him off. Time for that later.
"PLEASE, COME,” the face begged. “WHO SHALL BE FIRST?"
"Me,” Mindy said, stepping forward.
A chorus of disbelief rose from everybody in the room, including Richard behind the door.
Roughly, I pulled her aside. “Are you insane?” I snarled softly. “My glasses give a reading of pure green. That's neutral magic, it may do anything."
"Jess said the face only wants to serve,” she reminded patiently. “Besides, I have the Meld. If there's any trouble, such as, he tries to eat me, I'll activate the bracelet and walk out. Then George can waste him."
"Darn tootin',” George said, giving a wink.
Crazy? Yes. But the idea had merit. “Sounds okay, first we should..."
However, Mindy was already crossing the floor, following the trail of cookies. “See you soon,” she called over a shoulder.
Approaching the Gate, the face smiled and opened his jaw wide. Daintily, she stepped onto the tongue and the mouth closed. Watching, I nervously clenched and unclenched my fists. Risk taking was part of the job, but this bordered on suicide.
"Hey, its okay, chief,” George said, offering the bag of cookies in a friendly manner.
"Tell me why,” I asked coldly, ignoring the confection.
"Mindy has a grenade in her hand with the pin pulled. If she has to make a fast exit, I bet the pineapple stays. And eight ounces of exploding plastique in your head will seriously ruin anybody's day."
That made me feel better. Then my watch beeped. I pressed the talk switch. “Mindy? You okay?"
"Sure, safe and sound,” her voice replied. “I'm on the other side of the cliff. You have to see this place. We really have our work cut out for us."
This code was old. I hoped Mindy remembered. “King's knight three to queen's rook four, check."
There was a pause. “Oh shit, I used to know this. Ah ... queen's pawn five to king's bishop two, checkmate."
"Really?” I asked impulsively.
Yes, she is fine, Jessica said inside my head. Now shut up and get somebody else there.
We sent George over next and, one at a time, I had Richard float our two carts of equipment into the mouth. The wizard followed, then Jessica and Father Donaher. But as the priest entered the cubicle, the face sniffed loudly, its features contorting into a scowl of rage and disgust.
"HOLD!” the Gate bellowed. “THIS SMELLS AS NO MAGE, BUT A ... A CLERIC!"
Oh crap. Massed together, Michael must have been lost in the crowd, masked by our aura of magic. But standing alone, the priest was far too noticeable.
"Nonsense,” Father Donaher scoffed, doing an excellent impersonation of being amused. “I? A cleric? Why, I simply carry a holy talisman."
"DIE CLERIC!” the face screeched, as burning rays leap from its devil eyes and Father Donaher fell to the floor a screaming torch.
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CHAPTER NINE
Caught off-guard, I didn't have anything prepared. But it took only a second to click off the safety on the M16 and let Gate have the full thirty round clip, the armor piercing rounds stitching the pale flesh. Then I triggered the grenade launcher and put 40mm of high explosives right between those damn cat eyes.
Black blood flew everywhere, hot gore pumping from the ruin of the face like a fountain in hell. The nose and left eye were completely gone, exposin
g bone, ganglia and electronic circuits. Damaged but not dead, the Gate glared hatefully at me from its remaining orb and as I ducked to avoid the death ray, the face exploded.
Noise and flame filled the room, gobbets of flesh smacking into the walls. As the reverberations ceased, I stood and saw faint figures moving through the swirling smoke. Slamming in a fresh clip, I stopped from firing just in time when I recognized George and Jessica moving across the floor. Behind them was a gaping hole ringed with tattered shred of bleeding flesh.
"What the heck went wrong?” George demanded, hopping off the last square to the ledge. His satchel charge was not evident.
"Medical, stat!” I cried, heading for the burning Donaher.
Together, we raced to the priest and beat out the flames with our jackets. His screams were only low moans by now. Jess emptied her canteen on the man, while George took the smoking shotgun from his black hands and removed the shells from the pockets of the smoldering jumpsuit.
Appearing by my side, Richard gasped at the sight on the floor and knelt to force some powder into the priest's throat. Then he liberally poured the contents of a small vial over the man. From my pocket medical kit, I gave Michael an injection of morphine for the pain: 5cc, 10cc, more. Finally, at 20cc, the priest went unconscious. The poor man had my deepest sympathy. We had each been set on fire at one time or another. It's what gave us our true fear of Hell.
"I don't think he's going to make it,” Richard said, moving his staff over the smoking body, bathing the man in a soft golden light. “Systemic shock, burns over half of his body, respiration down, blood pressure down, pulse 45 and dropping."
"Do a Jump Start,” I ordered filling another syringe with digitalis.
The wizard slumped. “After everything I've already done today? Can't. Too drained."
"Well, do something!” George demanded, tenderly mopping the priest's face with a damp handkerchief.
"Sorry, my friend. But nothing I can cast will stop him from dying."
Jessica trust something into my hand. “Here."
It was a copper bracelet. I didn't have to ask which. First Raul, then Hassan. We'd be damned if another member of our group was going to die, not if there was anything we could do to help them. Tenderly, I slipped the band about his blackened wrist, the hot skin crumbling into flakes at the slight pressure and mentally shouted the activation phrase.
There was a flash of light and Father Michael Donaher sat up completely healthy. His freckled cheeks rosy, eyes bright and shiny. However, the priest was now bald as an egg, his thick thatch of red hair and eyebrows gone. He vaguely resembled somebody famous, but I couldn't quite tell who.
"Whew,” Donaher exhaled, a wisp of smoke leaving his nostrils. “Thank you from the bottom of my heart."
We helped him to stand. “No problem, Mike."
"But please never do it again,” he continued, in controlled anger. “If this was my time, perhaps you should have let me die. The Church does not approve of such things."
Jessica rested a hand on his crumbling uniform. “Then let the onus of saving a human life rest upon me, old friend."
The good father had no reply for that.
As we started across the floor, the stiff clothes of the priest cracked with every move. Though not overly fastidious, Donaher stopped and viewed the fatigues with displeasure. “Anybody have a spare outfit?"
"That trifling I can easily fix,” Richard said happily. With a wave of his staff, the priest was properly clothed once more. The army fatigues looking freshly laundered, shirt pressed, boots polished.
Running a hand across his head, the priest was obviously shocked at the skin-to-skin contact and quickly ascertained his hairless condition. Guess we had forgotten to tell him. Anyway, it was a good swap. Your life for your hair. I'd take it any day.
"Dick, old pal, you forgot something,” Father Donaher said hopefully, running a hand over his bare pate.
Somehow, the wizard hid a smile. “Sorry, nothing I can do about that. Besides, think how fast you will move minus that excess weight. Why, you're aerodynamically streamlined."
"Of course, the sun glinting off his head could give away our position to the enemy,” I observed clinically.
Thoughtfully, Jess pursed her lips. “I might have some cosmetics that would tone down the mirror effect, or we could drape him with camouflage netting."
Muttering something in Latin, the priest turned his back on us. Didn't sound like a prayer to me.
Chuckling, George returned the Father's shotgun and the weapon proved undamaged from the cooking, just dirty. We gathered the scattered shotgun shells, then moved past the booby-trapped floor and through the dripping hole in the wall, bits of dangling flesh brushing against our arms as we passed. Reaching the other side, I found an anxious Mindy guarding the pile of supplies. As the rest of the group apprised her of the situation, I took stock of our surroundings.
The nearby cliff stretched off to either side, rising impossibly upward to join the swirling gray cloud cover. Wow. It made me dizzy just to contemplate the sheer size of the thing.
Kneeling, I gave the road a cursory inspection. It was made of tiny hexagons of a ceramic material neatly joined together in the manner of a jigsaw puzzle. Dirt littered the surface and the road was badly cracked in several spots. But on the whole, the transit was in good shape. Good enough for us to wheel our carts along, that was what mattered.
The forest edging the road was thickly grown, but few leaves were on the branches and the bushes had seen better days. The grass was made of oddly shaped blades and was withered and brown.
Standing, I worked a few kinks out of my joints. In the far distance, was a single mountain rising majestically above the others, its snow capped peak almost reaching to the surface of the dome. A bird, or something, was flying around the rocky peak. Waitafreakingminute, just how big would a bird have to be for me to see it with unaided vision from this range. Answer: too goddamn big. I slipped on my sunglasses and immediately removed them. It was just like being in the cloud. The place was so permeated with ethereal power the glasses were overloaded and registered nothing. However, my binoculars showed the bird was coming this way fast.
"Red alert,” I said softly. “Incoming. High noon."
Following the direction of my arm, the group saw the winged express train and they moved with practiced haste. Ramming the end of his staff into each of the equipment piles, Richard lifted them both from the ground and ran for the forest.
Not a blade of grass crackled beneath his boots, nor was a leaf disturbed by his passage into the woods. The rest of us followed as best we could. Gathered under a spreading tree, whose bare branches offered little shelter, we took each other's hands and breathlessly waited. The sky darkened as something blotted out the sunlight overhead.
"Emergency Invisibility now,” I whispered and we vanished.
Totally vanished. Even the depressions of our boots heels in the soil were gone. Invisible was a rather simple spell, but it had many levels of operation. Total Invisibility meant that nobody could see, hear or smell you. Nor would radar, sonar, infra-red or even mass detectors indicate your location. The limitation was, to be that undetectable, the subject also became invisible to itself and walking across a flat empty field proved to be an adventure in moving.
Glancing upward, the gigantic form was only a black blob to me, but the sheer size of the thing made me wonder if this was our buddy from the lake, full grown and open for business.
"Gosh, I hope not,” Jessica whispered warmly in my ear.
The tingling that sentence caused was a pleasant sensation, so I attempted to compound it by sliding an arm about the woman. But my questing hand encountered only a hard square object I could identify as George's ammo pack. In disgust, I put the hand in my pocket where it belonged. Phooey.
Darkness came and went as the flying monster performed a search pattern, plainly seeking what made the loud noise earlier. The hole where the Gate used to be was covered
by a lintel overhang, and unless Big Bird landed it would remain hidden. But if the creature did come to earth and discovered the damage, a fight would be imminent and I guess-timated our chances of winning at about fifty/fifty. Father Donaher was the only person not bone weary by this point. One of the minor benefits from a Jump Start.
Suddenly, the sun returned. Scanning the sky, only the ever-present cloud was discernible, but we stayed where we were for a while longer. When satisfied that the creature wasn't trying to trick us out of hiding and had truly gone, the mage lifted the spell and we held a fast console.
"Opinions?” I asked, resting a foot on a cart wheel.
"It was a narrow escape,” Richard said, munching on a high energy, organic, snack bar. “I couldn't have maintained that spell for much longer. Just about down to my socks in magic."
Smugly, George waved the matter aside. “No problem. I got a HAFLA here that should take the monster out easy."
"And that is?” Donaher prompted.
"A napalm bazooka,” George said, patting a canvas wrapped lump.
Mindy arched an eyebrow. “Good lord, we have such a weapon?"
"Two, actually."
"Great! Let's kick some butt!"
Clapping my hands, I got their attention. I had been afraid of this attitude. “No,” I said firmly. “No more explosives, or rifles. Put those silencers on your pistols and keep them there. From here on, we go quiet. Our task is to discover exactly what is happening here and stop it. Not waste time and endanger civilian lives indulging in an unnecessary monster hunt."
Resting his weapon on a shoulder, George grimaced. “And if it attacks?"
"We hide and run away. Halting that cloud before it reaches the mainland has got to be our top priority."
Hesitantly, the group accepted that, but they were less than thrilled by the idea of running. Following my example, rifles were slung and the slim Bureau silencers screwed onto our HK 10mm automatic pistols.
Judgment Night [BUREAU 13 Book One] Page 12
