Last Call: A TempleVerse Anthology Book 1 (TempleVerse Anthologies)

by Shayne Silvers

  Jimmy seemed to consider that for a moment. He shook his head, the tension in his body easing as he uncrossed his arms. “Fine. Assuming I believe you, what’s next?”

  “What do you mean?” Bernie asked.

  “How do we end it?” Jimmy replied, meeting the older man’s gaze.

  Bernie smiled and glanced at me. “Remember what I said before, about why we can never tell the world the truth about us?” Bernie jerked his chin towards Jimmy. “Guys like him? The pragmatic ones? They’re the reason why.”

  Jimmy looked back and forth between us as if trying to figure out what he was missing.

  “The enemy of me enemy?” I suggested, shrugging.

  Bernie nodded. “Guess so.”

  “What are you two talking about?” Jimmy asked, finally.

  “Nothing,” Bernie replied. “Let’s go kill us some monsters.”

  Chapter 15

  We left Dawes behind with Sanchez, promising we’d come back for them both if the backup Cassidy had gone for didn’t arrive first. She hadn’t wanted us to leave without her, but someone had to keep an eye on the unconscious man, and we couldn’t risk dragging him along with us. Besides, I knew shell-shocked when I saw it, and so did Jimmy; Dawes would be a liability if she came, and we all knew it.

  It wasn’t until we left the relative safety of the platform that I realized we had no way of knowing where the necromancer was any more than we had when we first came down into the tunnels. Without the dogs to track down scents, we were basically back to square one. But when I brought it up, Bernie claimed he knew exactly where the Necromancer was.

  “Like I told you,” he explained, “I don’t have a lot of magical talent. But my senses are good. I knew when he raised the runners. Knew where the ritual was taking place. It’s not far up ahead.”

  “And the boy?” Jimmy asked.

  Bernie cocked an eyebrow. “What about him?”

  “Did you, I don’t know, sense him, too?”

  Bernie shook his head. “My senses aren’t as precise as that. If I could use it to track down random kids who’ve gone missing, trust me, I’d have joined up with the Feds a long time ago. We practitioners aren’t evil by nature, officer. Our abilities don’t determine who we are, any more than you being a big, buff guy determines who you are.”

  “Call me Jimmy,” Jimmy replied. As we headed further down the tracks, he spoke up again. “I don’t think it’s that simple, you know.”

  “What do you mean?” Bernie asked.

  Jimmy shrugged. “Being bigger than most guys didn’t make me who I am, but it sure as hell defined my life in a lot of ways. For that matter, who’s to say what Quinn calls her ‘ability’ isn’t something she picked up from pushing people away her whole life?”

  “Oy, I can hear ye,” I hissed, trailing behind the two men, gun drawn. I briefly considered popping Jimmy in the spine for putting me on blast like that, but decided against it; he’d be far less useful to me as a paraplegic.

  Bernie chuckled. “You might have a point. But that’s above my pay grade. All I know is that it wouldn’t be fair to hunt you down for being a physical specimen, and it isn’t fair to hate us because we can do things you can’t.”

  I grunted. Bernie had a point, but it was a moot one. People had always despised what they couldn’t understand. Desired what they couldn’t achieve themselves. Idealists could spin the world whichever direction they wanted, it wouldn’t keep gravity from yanking us all down. I almost said as much, but Bernie held up a hand before I could wax philosophical.

  “He’s close. Just up ahead.” Bernie inched forward. “Remember, let me distract him. Then you two take him out.”

  “We have to give him a chance to surrender,” Jimmy said, matter-of-factly, like he was reading from a manual.

  “Officer—” Bernie began.

  “Jimmy. Jimmy Collins.” The big man halted and met Bernie’s eyes. “Look, I’m here to save the kid. That’s my priority. Killing the bad guy is the part of this job I’m least interested in.”

  Bernie sighed, then nodded. “Fine. Quinn and I will take care of the necromancer. You find the kid. Keep out of the line of fire as much as you can. From here on out, I can’t make any promises.”

  Jimmy smirked. “You’d have made a decent cop, old man.”

  Bernie grunted. “I was a soldier, once.”

  “Me too,” Jimmy said.

  “Ye two can get married later,” I said, nudging them both. “Right now we’ve got shit to do.”

  They both glared at me.

  And, just like that, we had our game faces on.

  Chapter 16

  The tunnel darkened around the next bend, the overhead lights blown out by some force, leaving shards of glass underfoot. We tried to avoid them, to avoid making noise at all, but there was no point; three people shuffling around in the near darkness on gravel and glass are bound to cause a ruckus. Which is why I wasn’t surprised to hear someone call out to us, demanding we stop. What surprised me, however, was the voice itself.

  It was the voice of a child.

  “That’s close enough!” it said. A single light remained above, leaving a single section of track illuminated, and it was into this light that the child, Lukas Reynolds, stepped. He had curly blonde hair, cut short on the sides, leaving a mop of unruly locks draped across his forehead. He flicked them away from his face, revealing eyes tight with worry and fear.

  Jimmy let out a deep breath, still searching the darkness, holding his arm out to stop us from moving any further forward. “Lukas, we’ve come to save you,” he said, voice entirely too reasonable, as if he were trying to talk a man off a ledge. “Please come with us, and we can take you home.”

  Lukas narrowed his eyes. “Save me? Save me from what?”

  I frowned. Something was wrong. I searched the darkness for the kidnapper, but saw no one. Bernie cursed, and even without seeing his face I knew what he was thinking. Likely the very thing I was thinking: we’d made a mistake, somehow. But what? And how?

  “From the man who took you,” Jimmy replied, as if saying the words might jog the boy’s memory, ignoring Bernie’s outburst.

  “No one took me, you idiot. I left.”

  “You were the one,” Bernie said, and I realized he had his eyes closed, one hand reaching out slightly as if feeling for the child’s aura. “The one behind it all. I can sense it. But why?”

  Lukas cocked his head. “Step into the light.”

  Bernie opened his eyes and edged forward, walking around Jimmy’s outstretched arm. The minute he became visible, the boy recoiled in fear. “You! I remember you. You’re with them. I knew it from the second I saw you at the park. You’re with the ones who wanted to take me away,” Lukas said, voice thready with fear. A figure emerged from behind the boy—one I recognized. He still wore the long red coat with brass buttons, although it seemed he’d found pants since I’d last seen him sucking O’Bannon’s flesh from his bones. Of all the zombies I’d seen thus far, he looked the most life-like, if a bit waxen. His eyes, a murky blue, flicked from Bernie to Jimmy before finally settling on me.

  “She is the one, Master,” he said, voice slithering out of his pale lips as if being forced out of a tube. “The one who stole from you.”

  Lukas pointed at us. “You’re all with them, then!” He sounded hysterical. “I won’t let you take my friends away. I won’t, I won’t, I won’t!” He stomped with each word, and bursts of power split the earth, revealing cracks of green light that gave off a haunting glow.

  “The Academy sought you out,” Bernie said, hands held out in a calming gesture. “They tried to recruit you. Is that it?”

  “As if you don’t know!” Lukas spat. “They came and they tried to take me, but I already knew what they wanted. I know what they do to my kind. I saw it.”

  “What’s he talkin’ about, Bernie?” I whispered.

  Bernie shook his head. “Someone’s been filling the boy’s head with lies.”

>   “Not lies,” the Redcoat said, resting a hand on Lukas’ shoulder. The boy immediately gripped the hand with his own for comfort, giving the dead man’s fingers a generous squeeze. “The boy was shown truths. He was shown the culling. He was shown what the wizards did, so long ago, to keep death from overtaking life.”

  “That was centuries ago,” Bernie said. “Hell, maybe even longer. Wizards haven’t hunted down their own like that since the Dark Ages.”

  The Redcoat laughed, and the hissing sound sent shivers up my spine. “Do they not? I think you overestimate your people. What do you think they would do with this boy? With his power? If they could not control it. Would they let him live?”

  To his credit, Bernie didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he seemed to consider the question. Lukas, still looking terrified, glanced up at his companion, then back to the old man. “Honestly,” Bernie said, looking tired, shoulders slumped, “I don’t know. I wish I could say they’d have tried to help him. But I just don’t know for sure.”

  “Honesty...you are a rare wizard,” the Redcoat said. “But it is too late for that, now. The boy belongs to us, and we to him. Our covenant has been made.”

  Bernie hung his head. “Is there anything you’ll trade for the boy?”

  “It is too late,” the Redcoat said, sounding surprisingly sad. “He enlisted us, and so we serve. We did not try to take, but he offered us much. More than he should have. Now it will be up to you to stop us.”

  “Why does it sound like he wants us to stop him?” Jimmy asked, keeping his voice low enough that only Bernie and I could hear.

  “Because even the dead know the concept of balance,” Bernie replied. “Thanks to what the kid has done, they’ve gotten a taste of life. But that’s all it is. A taste. Usually, that’s all a Necromancer can offer. But this kid is strong enough to keep them, perhaps for as long as he lives. Problem is, to stay alive, they’ll have to keep feeding. Keep killing. Eventually, the world will notice. Or worse, their watchers will.”

  “The gods below would punish us,” the Redcoat agreed. “And, although we were eager to remember our bodies, we long to sleep.”

  “No,” Lukas said, gripping the Redcoat’s fingers. “No, you must stay with me. You have to protect me until I can get the book.”

  The Redcoat stared down at the child, eyes cloudy with death. “We do as you command, Master.” But he sounded forlorn, as if he knew exactly how terribly this would end.

  “What book?” Bernie asked.

  “The Grimm book,” Lukas replied. “The man in my dreams told me about it. About how whoever had it could rule the world. My dad knows where it is, I know it. But he wouldn’t tell me.”

  “The man in your dreams?” Jimmy said.

  “Silver Tongue,” the Redcoat replied. In that title, I heard something like true abhorrence, the way some people curse dictators or fascists, as if the very title itself was despicable.

  “He said if I get the book, I can bring back the Grimms and use them to stop anyone who wants to hurt me,” Lukas said, oblivious to the Redcoat’s tone. “The Grimms will be mine and they’ll have to do whatever I tell them. Just like the rest.” Lukas waved a hand, and two more figures stepped forward beside him. Both incredibly lifelike, as Redcoat was. Then three more behind them. Then four.

  In an instant, we were staring down a small army of corpses, each looking remarkably alive. Meaning they must have fed on someone, at some point. I wondered how many vagabonds would be written off as having picked up and left town, never to be seen or heard from again. How many of Boston’s fine, upstanding citizens would be reported missing, a pile of their clothes all that remained? I shuddered, then offered up a brief prayer that I wouldn’t end up one of them.

  My face was too pale for milk cartons.

  Chapter 17

  The final showdown, if you could call it that, began the instant Lukas retreated into the darkness. The zombies—soulless eyes locked, not on us, but some distant horizon we couldn’t comprehend—took a collective step forward as if yanked by the string of some cosmic puppeteer, lunging in total unison. Then another. And another. Like automatons, they marched inexorably towards us.

  It was creepy in every sense of the word.

  “Same rules apply?” Bernie asked, looking at me. His gaze was intense. Pained.

  I grimaced, but nodded. “Aye, same rules. Distract ‘em, and I’ll take care of the rest.”

  “You can’t mean that,” Jimmy said. “He’s just a kid.”

  Bernie and I shared a glance. Jimmy was right. Lukas was just a kid. But he was also dangerous. He’d killed people. Maybe not with his own two hands, but the body count he’d tallied up would leave other children without mothers or fathers, not to mention widowed spouses. What happened next wasn’t a question of right or wrong. Killing Lukas would be wrong. I’d lose sleep over it. A lot of sleep. But letting him live to terrorize more people would be worse. And Bernie and I knew it.

  “I won’t let you kill a kid,” Jimmy growled, watching us.

  Bernie sighed, shoulders sagging. “Fine, we’ll do it your way. But keep in mind that, once this is all over, you’ll have to give him over to my people. Your justice system isn’t designed for shit like this, and the kid will have to answer for what he’s done.”

  Jimmy looked like he wanted to argue, but there was no time. The zombies were closing in. Not fast, but fast enough. “We’ll sort it out. What’s the plan?”

  Bernie herded us back. “I’m going to throw a few curveballs at these things. Draw them into the tunnel behind us. You two double-back and find another way around. The only way you’re going to bring the kid down is if you sneak up on him from behind and knock him out.” Something flashed across his face.

  “What is it?” I asked, studying the older man.

  “Nothing. We’ll talk about it later.”

  I frowned.

  “Go, now. And hurry. I don’t know how long I can keep them busy.” Bernie reached into his sack, drawing out a strangely shaped vial. The glass was tinted blue and spiraled in on itself like a nautilus shell. He grinned. “This was one of my favorites,” he said, then tossed the vial into the air. It landed in the midst of the approaching zombies and burst, shattering forcefully against the ground. A wave of briny air washed over us, laden with the odor of sea and salt. Suddenly, the zombies were moving slower. Much slower. I squinted, eyes still adjusting to the dark, and realized they were wading through thick, murky liquid up to their torsos. A patch of water that filled a thirty-foot-long stretch of tunnel. “Betty and I used to crack one of these open in the summer, whenever it broke a hundred degrees, just to cool down,” Bernie said, grinning.

  “That’s impossible,” Jimmy said, staring wide-eyed at the mass of figures as they slogged pathetically through the water.

  “Ye get over it,” I said, although truthfully I was pretty impressed, myself. I snagged Jimmy’s arm and pulled him away. “Come on, I saw a side tunnel we can try. Hopefully it’ll take us far enough down.” Jimmy followed on leaden legs before finally shaking his head and jogging alongside me. He was muttering things under his breath, but keeping up, which was good enough for me. We left Bernie calmly facing a horde of zombies, fumbling through his satchel.

  “Can you do stuff like that?” Jimmy asked between breaths, his long legs keeping up with my own as we backtracked, searching for the side tunnel I’d spotted earlier.

  I found it, wheeled right, and sped up, keeping track of our progress using a mini-map in my head, doing my best to make sure we didn’t end up turned around. It was tough, but I seemed to have developed a knack for shit like this; I blamed my brief stint living in New York, where navigating on a grid had become a way of life. “Stuff like what? Make a lake appear out of thin air?” I asked.

  “Sure.”

  I laughed, or would have, were I not breathing so hard from our pace. “Not a chance.”

  “Do you know other people who can?”

  “Tell ye what
, Jimmy. When this is all over, I’ll let ye buy me that drink, and ye can grill me all ye want about the Freaks in this town. Hell, maybe I’ll introduce ye to a Faelin’ or two. But right now, I need ye to focus.” I managed to say all this between breaths, eyes still scanning the tunnel for openings. If we didn’t find a way to turn right again soon, we’d have to head back and take our chances with facing Lukas head on.

  Jimmy grunted. “There,” he said, pointing to an opening that joined the main branch we’d come from. Perfect. He bolted for it, but I held out an arm, slowing us both in the process. He gave me a funny look. “What?”

  “Bernie said sneak, remember? We can’t go runnin’ in,” I said.

  “You’re right.” Jimmy took a deep, soothing breath, trying to get his heart rate under control. I mimicked him, letting my pulse slow as we padded towards the opening, quiet as church mice. Ordinarily, I’d have been happy to charge in, guns blazing, but if we really were going to save the kid, Bernie’s plan had the most merit; my idea of problem-solving typically included spent shell casings and body bags.

  Here was hoping we wouldn’t need either one.

  Chapter 18

  We emerged into a lit section of tunnel, but not terribly far beyond the darkened stretch where we’d first encountered Lukas. In fact, I could make out faint sounds and strange lights playing beyond the bend. Probably Bernie, keeping the zombies at bay. For a moment, I worried Lukas might have gone deeper into the tunnel, but then I saw him. He was facing the darkness.

  And he wasn’t alone.

  The Redcoat must have doubled-back for some reason, because we found him standing not twenty feet ahead of us, like a rear guard, arms folded neatly behind his back. He’d spotted us the moment we stepped into the light, but had said nothing. I noticed his lower half was soaked, the base of his coat stained a deeper, more vibrant shade red. He turned to glance at Lukas, then back to us, his expression placid. Unreadable.