Keel turned, hearing a scream from the darkness behind them. “Did you hear that? It sounded like a child screaming.”
Canopus looked her in the eyes, “Didn’t hear a thing.”
Keel nibbled her lip, “OK. But, it was faint. Your ears are older than mine.”
Drexel wrapped a cable around a large green mine, “I didn't hear it either and I may be old too but my ears are as sharp as a cat. Just the illusion sigils, girl.”
The scream this time was louder and close. Keel felt the hairs stand up on her neck and knew if she turned around that there would be a girl behind her, bloody and hurt. Keel tapped Canopus on the shoulder as he handed Drexel a second mine. “Is there anything behind me.”
Canopus peered behind Keel. “Nothing.”
Keel swallowed hard.
She looked back at her phone but it was hard to concentrate as the little hurt girl kept tugging on her coat. Keel turned around and picked the girl up, pulling matted, brown hair back from the girl’s dirty face. She had a large cut above right eye. Keel reached into her pocket and pulled out a tissue, wiping away the blood. “You are all better now. I won’t let anyone else hurt you. What’s your name?”
The girl looked up and placed her hands on Keel’s cheeks, “My name is Carina Keel. My father and I came through a time slip. He’s trying to kill an angel but he is in trouble, you must help me save him. I can show you the way.”
“Time travel isn’t real.”
“It is. You don’t know everything you know,” screamed the girl. “Now our father will die all over again and you could have helped me stop it. You are useless. Father told me I would turn into a selfish bitch. No wonder you killed him and now you are going to kill Canopus and Drexel too. You need to leave before they die.”
Keel placed the child on the floor and turned away. When she looked back the girl had gone.
“You doing alright?” asked Canopus.
Keel nodded. “Are we ready Drexel?”
Drexel rubbed hands together, “We sure are.” He had spaced out five mines and had stuck them against the bricks with large spikes. A thick cable ran between each mine to a large pedal, which Drexel had leant against the wall. “We need to get back. Way back.”
The trio hurried away from the explosives.
Satisfied at the distance, Drexel gestured them to stop and shone his flashlight onto the green pedal. At this distance the foot-long pedal was no bigger than a golf ball. “Think you can both keep your flashlights focused on that?”
Canopus and Keel pointed their flashlights, twin beams uniting on the pedal.
Drexel pulled out his magnum and held it with both hands. He closed his left eye and placed his finger on the trigger.
“Well, this is awkward.”
“Why?” asked Keel.
“I can see you and Canopus still standing still by the mines. You both look hurt. Unconscious, maybe.”
“It’s the illusion spell,” replied Keel.
“I can’t see anything,” said Canopus. “Just shoot already. We are running out of time.”
“Jeezus Christ, there’s a hybrid there too. Big one, white skinned, covered in that black goo shit. It’s pulling your arm Keel, I think I can hit it from here.”
Drexel fired his gun, the sound echoed loudly in the tunnel making his ears ring. He saw that he grazed the hybrid’s shoulder.
The large creature threw Keel to the floor and started to charge towards Drexel, its head was covered in thick black goo that spread out to its shoulders and arms.
“The hybrid, it’s coming right for us,” shouted Drexel.
“There is nothing there,” said Keel, “Canopus, shoot the pedal.”
Canopus drew his gun but Drexel stepped in front and pointed his gun at Keel.
“Show me your arms.”
He pointed the gun at Canopus, “You too.”
Keel pulled back her sleeve, written on her arm was the word, ‘EDEN’
Drexel moved behind Keel, the hybrid was getting closer.
“That word means nothing to me.”
“Of course, it does,” said Canopus, “It was Samuel’s nickname for Keel. EDEN. You know that.”
“I don’t,” stammered Drexel, his head was hurting.
“Don’t do anything stupid now,” replied Keel holding up her arms.
“Show me your arm, Jon. SHOW ME!”
Canopus pulled up his sleeve, it showed the word, “MONTANA.”
Drexel lowered his gun, relieved, “That I do know. It’s where Samuel was killed. It’s where I nearly lost my life.”
“I told you, now shoot the pedal and let’s get going.”
Drexel walked through Canopus and he disappeared. He aimed his flashlight and magnum at the hybrid and fired. The bullet hit the creature above its right knee and it fell to the ground.
Drexel pulled out his insulin pen and ran over to the creature, constantly keeping the flash light focused on its body.
Keel screamed behind him.
Drexel turned, flicking his flashlight to the sound but she too had disappeared. He stopped running and turned the flashlight’s beam back to the hybrid but all that was there was a pool of black blood.
“I knew you were fake. Montana! There’s no way you would have written Montana. I still wake up in cold sweats about that night.”
He scanned the room, slowly.
Keel and Canopus were still laying by the mines, he had to be careful not to shoot in that direction or there was a high chance the blast from the magnum would hit them.
He scanned the tunnel as he walked. His beam drifted across the brick walls, wooden tracks and graveled floor. Then he saw it, running past the light and back into the darkness. It was too fast for a shot.
“Dammit,” cursed Drexel.
He edged back to the bodies of Canopus and Keel and quickly examined them. Keel had a cut above her left eye and a large swelling on her cheek.
“You got knocked around all right girl,” Drexel kicked her gently but there was no response.
He swung the light back into the darkness; again seeing the hybrid run past. It was closer.
Canopus murmured behind him and Drexel thanked the stars. He kicked him with his foot, “Get the frig up and help me.”
Canopus opened his eyes and saw Drexel, half-baked in light standing next to him. “What happened?” groaned Canopus.
“Frig knows. But what I do know is that there’s a hybrid running about in the darkness and Keel is unconscious. Now get up and help me kill it.”
“Show me your arm,” asked Canopus pointing the light on Drexel’s arm.
“Go ahead.”
Canopus reached up and pulled back Drexel’s sleeve, while Drexel continued to the scan the darkness.
“I am the Warlus?” said Canopus confused.
“Walrus! I am the Walrus, what are you dyslexic?”
“The song that Samuel always played when we bagged a creature. OK I’m convinced it’s you,” sighed Canopus.
Drexel spotted the hybrid against the wall, edging towards them, “There it is!” He fired his magnum, hitting it the shoulder. “Cover me!”
Canopus fumbled for his gun and flashlight and then continued to fire at the hybrid as Drexel ran towards the creature, insulin pen is his hand, flashlight focused on the creature.
Canopus hit the hybrid twice in the chest, just missing the heart.
The hybrid leapt towards Drexel as he slid underneath its body, slamming the insulin pen into the creature’s chest.
The hybrid stepped back and roared.
“I think I just pissed it off,” shouted Drexel.
Still screaming, the hybrid’s body vibrated as its black goo head sprayed thick milky liquid from the creature’s neck, revealing the head of a young man, no older than thirty. His eyes were lifeless, his lips blue.
“Shoot it in the heart!” shouted Canopus.
Drexel pushed his magnum against the creature’s rib cage and pulled the trigger.
The hybrid’s chest exploded in white soggy clumps of flesh. It fell to the ground, hollow and smoking.
Drexel bent over, put his hands on his knees and breathed in hard, “Holy shit. So, that’s what happens when you stick-em’ with insulin.”
Canopus grabbed Keel’s shoulders and gently slapped her cheeks in an attempt to get her blood flowing.
Nothing.
He touched her neck and was relieved to feel that her pulse was still strong.
“How is she?” shouted Drexel.
“She’s alive,” said Canopus, concern in his voice. He lifted her upright.
Drexel reached into his bag and pulled out an insulin pen. He primed it by shooting out 2 units and dialed the pen to 50. Lifting up Keel’s shirt, he jammed the pen’s needle into her stomach. He counted to five and then withdrew the pen.
Keels eyes slowly opened and then she instantly sat up, gasping for air.
“Water,” she croaked.
Drexel pulled out his bottle of bourbon, took a swig himself and then held it to Keel’s lips. She took a large gulp and then coughed, spraying bourbon back over him.
“Easy girl, that’s expensive sauce.”
“Think you can stand?” asked Canopus, squeezing Keel’s shoulder.
“Yes. That hybrid took us by surprise. You got it?” Keel stood up, she felt shaky but awake.
“Yeah we got it. It’s over there bleeding milky goo. Looks like the insulin will slow them down but they still need a bullet in the heart,” replied Drexel.
“There will be more showing up soon, it was probably a scout. We need to get this wall open, now.”
“Glad you agree,” said Drexel hitting the pedal. “I suggest you run, it’s on a 60 second delay!”
Keel looked at Canopus and together they sprinted after Drexel as he disappeared into the darkness.
SEVEN.
Hall held up her hand stopping Skyclade in his tracks. She peered into the darkness of the brick alcove tunnels. “Something is not quite right here. I can feel it.”
Skyclade stood still and listened. It couldn’t hear anything dangerous. Pushing Hall out of the way it marched down the tunnel.
“Can you see? I can’t see,” asked Hall. She took out her cell phone and hit a flashlight app. The tunnels were bathed in soft light. Hall peered at the large tiled writing on the walls. “Ichabod?” Next to the word Ichabod, red tiles were placed in a pattern resembling an owl. “Ha! pixel art, before pixels. Hey Skyclade! Check this out, it’s an owl! What do you think that means?”
No reply.
“Well, I’m going to check it out.” Hall walked back to the tunnel entrance and saw that her cell phone had two bars. Opening up Google, she typed in the word, ‘Ichabod Bonners Ferry.’
“No mention of an Ichabod in Bonners Ferry,” she shouted down the tunnel, “Just two hits. Ichabod is a name mentioned in the first Book of Samuel, as the son of Phinehas, a malicious priest and Ichabod Crane, a fictional character from Washington Irving’s short story, ‘The legend of Sleepy Hollow.’ I’ve seen the movie, lots of beheading. Not my cup of coffee. Both don’t fill me with confidence.” Hall typed in ‘Owl made from tiles’ into the search engine. “Says here that an Owl made in tiles was a warning, placed in smugglers tunnels. Watch out for traps!” Hall re-engaged the flashlight app and walked back to the tunnel Skyclade marched down, “Neither sound good. Are you listening?”
A large swish of air filled the tunnel, hitting Hall in the face, it smelt of rancid meat. She covered her mouth, fighting back the urge to vomit.
“Damn nasty that is,” coughed Hall.
She peered down the tunnel and took a few steps, sweeping the walls and floor with her cell phone flashlight. The smell was getting worse. Hall pinched her nose and breathed through her mouth. She was convinced she could taste the smell, it felt heavy on her tongue. Suddenly another swish of air filled the tunnel and Hall instantly ducked, falling to her hands and knees. A large rusty blade flew over her head, slicing one of her ponytails which fell in front of her face. The blade paused and then swung back, disappearing down the tunnel. “Cheezus!” said Hall, breathing heavily.
Scrabbling for her phone, she flicked back on the flashlight and scanned the tunnels, she was surrounded by headless rotting skeletons and skulls.
Feeling a kick against her leg, she looked back. Skyclade was standing behind her, holding out his arms, which were now bloody stumps.
“Fix. Need hands to kill.”
Hall sat cross legged and once more held her nose. “Easier to fix if I have your hands. Do you happen to know where they are?”
Skyclade nodded and gestured behind him.
Hall crawled past Skyclade, searching for the hands with her cell phone light, “I suggest you keep low too. Not even I can fix a lost head.”
EIGHT.
The blast from the explosion sent clouds of dust rushing through the dark tunnels. Keel and Canopus held their breath and covered their ears as the heavy hot air forced them against the cold tiled wall.
The sound of the explosion echoed through the tunnels and then everything was once again quiet and still.
Drexel slapped his flashlight to make the beam brighter and aimed it at Canopus and Keel. “That was a lot bigger and louder than I expected.”
Keel held her nose and swallowed, popping her ears.
Canopus pointed his flashlight beam around the edges of the large hole, light dust fell to the ground.
Keel walked through the hole and scanned the tunnel. A series of long thin lamps were fixed to the walls, cables running between them.
Drexel tapped the lamps with his magnum, “Low pressure sodium lamps. They should still work, if we can find the switch. Pretty old though,”
“This looks like it,” replied Canopus. Before him was a large switch that looked like it belonged in a Frankenstein movie.
Turning off his flashlight, he placed both hands on the switch and with a grunt pushed it up, locking it in place. An electrical crackle and the smell of burnt gas filled the tunnel. One by one the neon gas in the lamps heated up, casting out first a red glow, then a dull monochromatic yellow glow.
As the sections of the tunnel lit up, they revealed a long corridor filled with metal beds and overturned desks. A series of scrawled red writing and symbols covered the walls.
Keel walked over and examined the symbols.
“More magic?” asked Drexel.
“I don’t think so. They look like ramblings of a lost mind rather than spells. They have been created with blood though. Probably by chewing off fingernails. I can see fingerprints in the strokes.”
“No more fear spells is a relief. I was getting worried that my mother was going to turn up sooner or later. She was a scary beast,” said Drexel.
Canopus pointed back to the hole, “Do you think there’s enough wall left to seal back up the hole?”
“Abso-frigging-lutely;” replied Drexel.
“It has to be impregnable. If we trap Lillian Fox in here, she can’t get out. She needs to starve and die.” replied Keel with little emotion.
Drexel pulled out three more mines. “I’ll set up a series of explosions, she won’t get out. Of course, we won’t be able to get out either.”
Keel nodded. Set them up but use the remote charges you showed me. When she is inside, we will set it off and trap her inside. Just in case we need to escape this way.”
Drexel examined the walls looking for the perfect places to set up the mines. Canopus peered at a series of symbols on the wall. They resembled large wings. He frowned and called Keel over. “What do you make of this?”
Keel traced her finger over the lines. “Again, not magical and it’s not uncommon that psychiatric patients would see angels. They would have been a perfect source of sorrow and pain for an angel to feed off.” Keel felt cold, the back of her neck tingled and her eyes burned. She crossed her arms and frowned.
“What’s wrong?”
“I’m
worried that there may be flickers down here.”
“Flickers? Trapped souls, right?” asked Drexel.
“Correct,” replied Keel, “If there are flickers, they would have started from a crazed patient’s mind, which would initially make them unstable but being alone down here for so many years could have made them incredibly dangerous. Flickers need a source of energy to pull from and -” She tapped the glowing lamps.
“And, we may have just woken them up,” sighed Canopus.
Keel, rubbed her eyes, nodded and pulled out her machete, “Silver or iron will disperse them temporarily.”
Canopus retrieved his silver knife from his boot. “Do you have anything Drexel?”
Drexel padded down his jacket and looked into his bag. “Nah. But don’t worry, there has to be something in all this mess. I’ll be alright.”
“In the meantime, stay between Keel and I.”
“Will do.” Drexel held up the hard plastic remote. He pressed a button and its small screen hummed, displaying a green number 1.
“Primed and ready to go.”
“What’s the distance?” asked Keel.
“No idea. You don’t need line of site, I know that. Closer the better I’m guessing.”
Keel checked the map on her phone, if they followed it for an hour they should pass right next to the tunnel leading to the freight trains. “Well, there is only one way to go. Follow me and watch out for flickers.”
Drexel heard a high-pitched whine and pulled out the remote. The screen was now black. He slapped the side of the screen and it turned back on, once more displaying the number 1.
“You coming?” asked Canopus
“Yeah, all good.” Drexel placed the remote back in his pocket and zipped up his jacket. It was starting to get cold.
NINE.
Lillian Fox stumbled and hit her head against a large candelabra, knocking it over. It fell and smashed against the floor, extinguishing its candle’s flames. Dust and bricks fell from the plastered ceiling, raining down on the train carriage’s steel roof that held the recovering Somerset Mills. The hybrids surrounding the carriage fell to their knees, as did the many possessed residents.
Canopus and Keel - The Hive. (The cases of Canopus and Keel Book 1) Page 18
