Vessel: The Demontouched Saga (Book 4)

by Douglas Wayne

  Bert’s men are scattered throughout the field, a few running off on their own. With the smattering of gunfire, you can tell his group isn’t as tightly knit as ours is. Nobody seems to be in charge as everyone looks to be working on their own. I stop before we get to close.

  “Keep your head down from here,” I say. “Don’t want to lose any of you now to random gunfire.”

  Nal nods before swinging off to the right.

  “Get back!” Bert yells while backpedaling away from his beast. He aims the pistol at the dog’s head, taking a few shots before slamming into the bed of a truck.

  “Shit,” I say, taking off at a sprint.

  “Bert, NO!” Ralph yells, hand over his mouth.

  The beast lunges forward, right into Bert, sending the truck sliding into the one next to it, pinning Ralph between them. I hear the sound of Bert’s screaming as the beast lunges his head forward. Suddenly the screams stop as blood sprays out, covering the trucks.

  With the man down, the beast lets go of the body, allowing the lower half of the man’s torso to fall to the ground below. It growls in protest at the man who now stands in front of it.

  Ralph.

  I try not to gag when I notice Bert’s legs kicking around wildly as I get closer to the beast.

  Ralph lets out a scream when the dog rears on its hind legs before placing its front ones on the bed of the truck, letting out a roar when its weight blows the tires of the truck.

  With the beast diverted, I run up its back, hoping he doesn’t do his heat up trick. Once he feels the weight of my body, the dog turns its head to face me, but it is too late. I shove the blade of the sword into its head through the spot in his ear, pushing off of his head at the last second to jump over the truck.

  I hit the ground hard, failing to roll with the impact. I hear a pop followed by a sharp pain in my lower leg as it gives. I scream out in pain for a moment before I have the nerve to look down at the injury, nearly puking when I see my shin poking through my skin.

  Behind me, I can hear the men cheering to the victory, unaware I’m still on the ground

  “Let’s get this truck pulled back,” Nal says pointing at the men behind him. Once he sees me on the ground, he rushes over to my side.

  “Holy shit man. You OK?” he says, pulling his shirt off.

  “Peachy,” I say, trying not to cry.

  I wince slightly when he wraps his shirt around my wounded leg. “We’ll get you out of here,” he says. “Uriel can fix this.”

  “I hope,” I say. “Otherwise it’s going to be hard to keep up this hero gig.”

  - 8 -

  “Is that all of them?” Nal asks, securing the tailgate of the undamaged truck.

  “I think so,” Terry says walking up to him.

  “Think you can find the way back?” Nal says, handing him my keys.

  “I’ll be fine,” he says, rubbing my head. “Just try to keep him in two pieces.”

  Nal laughs. “As long as I can keep him from jumping out of the truck, he’ll be fine.” He walks over to Josh, the skater kid from earlier. “We have a few vehicles a few miles down the road. My men will be back to get your’s to safety in an hour or so.”

  Josh nods. “We’ll be inside the plant when you get back.” He looks at Terry. “Just knock a few times once you get here.”

  “Got it, kid.” Terry says, walking away.

  Nal opens the rear window of the truck. “Hold on tight you guys. It’s going to be bumpy.” I hear the sound of the truck starting before it drives away.

  “How are you holding up?” I ask Ralph, who is laying down next to me.

  “As good as I can without feeling my legs,” he growls. As far as we can tell, his hip was shattered when he was pinned between the trucks. I wouldn’t be surprised if his legs weren’t broken too. Our only hope is that his spine wasn’t damaged from it as well.

  “We have good doctors back at our place,” I say. “We’ll have you walking in no time.”

  “I hope,” he says. “Has to be better than what we had.”

  “If you don’t mind me asking, how many people did you have at your camp?”

  “About a hundred. Most of the men were with us though.”

  “I can talk to Nal about getting a crew your way if you want. Might have a better chance staying together.”

  “I’m not sure that’s a good idea.” He says.

  “Why’s that?”

  “Now that Bert’s dead, that puts Louis in charge. He isn’t exactly the friendly type.”

  “Let me guess. He is one of the men watching your camp?”

  He nods. “Bert and Louis never got along. Almost felt like they were arguing about how to do things every other day.”

  Probably the reason his group all broke up and ran once the dog ran their way. “Well, our camp is in fairly good shape,” I say. “You are more than welcome to stay with us if you want.”

  “I can’t,” he says. “My wife is in the camp.”

  I look down at his legs, “You do realize you’ll be here for a while, right?”

  He leans forward, placing his face I his hands. “She didn’t want me to come, but I insisted.” He starts to cry. “How am I supposed to keep Louis away from her now?”

  I put my arm around him. “One thing I can’t tolerate is some creep moving in on a woman the moment her man is gone. Tell me where the camp is and we’ll bring her here.”

  “I’ll see to it myself,” Nal says out the window.

  Ralph wipes his face with his sleeve. “We stay in a subdivision about ten miles south of here.”

  “Back off 109?”

  He nods. “A gated community not far from Lindenwood High.”

  “We’ll get her back,” Nal says. “You worry about getting some rest.” He knocks on the window twice. “You too, Mitch. Don’t make me slam the brakes to knock you out.”

  “Gotcha,” I say. I want to argue, but the pain in my leg is intense. I doubt I’ll be able to sleep, but I close my eyes anyways.

  “Oh my god, is he OK?” Sara yells, waking me up.

  “I’m fine,” I say, looking over at her. “Just a scratch.”

  “Just a scratch? The shirt is covered in blood!”

  I look down to see the once white shirt now stained a dark shade of red. When I move my hand from my side to place it on her beautiful face when I notice blood dripping from my fingertips.

  “Maybe it’s worse than it looks,” I say, wiping my hand on my shirt.

  Uriel walks up to Nal behind the truck in her older form.

  “Brought them all back in one piece, though this one made it difficult,” he says, laughing.

  “That one can be trouble,” she says, smirking. “Get them all down in the basement.” She looks over at the soldiers that rushed over to help.

  “Carefully,” she says. “They have suffered enough for one day.”

  Nal bends over and gives her a hug. “You did well,” she says. “I knew you would.”

  The two guys in the truck who could walk, follow Uriel into the house, leaving Ralph and I to be carried. I pull myself to the back using the side of the truck. The last thing Ralph needs is to be moved around any more than necessary.

  One soldier places a stretcher next to me. “Let’s get you downstairs.”

  I shrug him off. “Get him first,” I say. “He is in worse shape.”

  The man looks down at my blood soaked pants and shakes his head. “If you say so.”

  He jumps onto the bed of the truck along with another solider. They take a minute, but they get him moved onto the stretcher with little problem.

  “Is he OK?” I say. “It doesn’t look like he is breathing.”

  The soldier checks for a pulse. “He’s alive, but ice cold.”

  “Get him downstairs, now!” I say, scooting off the truck and out of the way.

  They pull him off of the truck and rush him through the front door.

  “What happened back there?” Sara says, he
lping me stand up.

  “We ran into another group,” I say. “Though they weren’t the problem.”

  “What was then?”

  “Three large ass dogs. The type that melts anything they touch.”

  Her jaw drops open. “Where did they come from?”

  “I’m not sure, but it can’t be a nice place.”

  It is painful, but she helps me hobble back to the tailgate so I can prop my foot back up. “They are dead, at least. I just hope there aren’t any more.”

  Sara looks at the door and back at me while pacing back and forth. “I wonder what is taking so long.”

  “She is probably patching Ralph up first,” I say. “He was in bad shape.”

  “You’re in bad shape!” she yells.

  “Easy there, sometimes even I have to take turns.”

  She walks over, taking me in her arms. “I know,” she says. “I just worry about you.”

  “I worry about this,” I say, reaching over to grab the necklace.

  “Don’t. I have it under control.”

  I smile, bending forward to steal a kiss. “I hope so.”

  “Your turn, Mitch,” a soldier says walking up.

  “Ralph OK?” I say.

  “He is now. Uriel brought him back.”

  “He died?” Sara says.

  He nods. “Right when we got downstairs.”

  I look over at Sara. “That’s why he went first.”

  She lowers her head slightly, forcing me to lift her chin up with my finger. “Don’t feel bad,” I say. “You didn’t know.”

  She smiles before helping the men get me onto the stretcher. They ease me in the air, and walk me through the house, careful not to bump anything on their way through.

  “Let’s turn him around,” one says after opening a door. “Don’t want to put any added pressure on that leg.”

  I grab the edge of the stretcher, feeling the blood rush to my head as they walk downstairs with my head on the bottom. I breathe in and out heavily, to not vomit due to the onset of vertigo from being upside down.

  “It’s over now,” the solider says as my body flattens out.

  I let out one last breath while they set me on a table in the middle of the room. The room is dark except for the glow of candles positioned around the room. On a bed in the corner I make out Ralph as he lays under a cover.

  “Did you patch him up?” I ask.

  Uriel shakes her head. “It took too much for me to keep him alive.” She reaches down, rubbing her hand on the top of my head. “I have enough left in me to stop the bleeding, but I won’t be able to mend the bone until I rest.”

  I look over at her shocked. “I thought angels were more powerful than that.”

  “Even we have limits,” she says.

  “What about Ralph’s people? I promised him we would at least get his wife out of that camp.”

  “I’ll handle that,” Nal says. “You need to rest.”

  “You know I can’t sit on the sidelines while you have all the fun,” I say, sitting up.

  “You don’t have a choice,” Sara says, holding my hand. She kisses me on the forehead before looking over at Nal. “I’ll go with you.”

  “You sure?” he says.

  She nods. “I’ll be fine.”

  “That’s against the rules,” I say. “You can’t take her unless I’m around.”

  “Suck it up, Princess. She’ll be OK.”

  I sigh. I hate being in a position to not have a say in things, but with a compound fracture, I’m not really in a position to argue.

  “She will be fine,” Uriel says closing my eyes with her fingers. “Now rest.”

  I hear the sound of footsteps walking up the stairs. If her healing is anything like Zeke’s, they are probably leaving to avoid being blinded by the light.

  The flash comes shortly after the pain in my legs begin. Within moments the pain and the light don’t bother me anymore as I’m thrust into darkness.

  It was a cold winter day in the middle of January. I was out of town for a few weeks, visiting a client who needed desperate help with her taxes. Apparently, she didn’t understand the part where we told her to keep records of everything. Thanks to that, I found myself going through nine shoe boxes full of receipts.

  “Are you sure we aren’t missing something?” I asked Mrs. Johnson, owner of a maid service outside Atlanta.

  “Nope,” she said, looking through her wallet. “I’m sure everything got put in a box.”

  “You know. Our policy says we’ll only represent you in an IRS audit as long as there are no missing documents.”

  She nodded. “It’s OK. I’m not missing any.”

  I sighed. Her statement is nearly thirty thousand dollars off, to the bad. Even worse, she hasn’t been keeping current with her payroll. Something told me I would be there a lot longer than a week.

  I jumped to the sound of the phone going off on my hip, forgetting I had the ringer set loud in the car. “I have to take this,” I said as I walked away.

  “This is Mitch.”

  “Mitch, you need to pack your things and head to the airport. I have Allen flying out there now to take over.”

  “While I appreciate the gesture, I’m too far in to hand this over to someone else. It will take him a week to get where I’m at.”

  “It’s Linda,” he said, sending my heart into a tailspin. “The police just showed up looking for you.”

  “What’s wrong with her?”

  “She was in an accident this morning,” he said. “It was all over the news.”

  “Why didn’t you call me earlier?”

  “I didn’t know it was her,” he said. “You couldn’t even make out the car on TV.”

  “Is she alive?”

  “The officer wouldn’t tell me, but the lady on channel two said she was stable.”

  “Thanks,” I say, hanging up the phone as I tried to hold it together.

  I walked back over to the table and gathered my belongings.

  “Are you leaving already?” she said, puzzled.

  “I have personal issues to attend to back home,” I said, wiping a tear from my eye. “Allen Jones should be here tomorrow to finish up.”

  The rest of my time at her place was quiet. She had no questions, and I didn’t want to talk. I was thankful for that fact as I don’t think I could have held back the torrent if I had to say anything else.

  Once I sat in the car, however. All bets were off.

  - 9 -

  I jolt upright from the nightmare with sweat pouring down my face. After wiping my head with my cover I look around the room.

  In the corner I see Ralph, shaking slightly as he moans in his sleep.

  “You OK over there?” I say, trying to sit up. My legs fail to move, however as they’re strapped to the table using a pair of small orange ratchet straps. “Who the hell would do something like this?”

  “I would,” Uriel says, entering the basement. “It was the only way I knew to stop you from leaving.”

  “It’s not like I could go far,” I say, pointing down at my leg.

  “No, but I know you too well,” she sits down on a large stool next to me. “You would have tried.”

  I smile at her. “Yeah, I would have.” I was going to.

  “Are you here to finish healing my leg?” I say.

  “It will be a few days before that,” she says. “That one requires too much attention.”

  I look over at Ralph. “How’s he doing?”

  “He is stable now. Though he may never walk again.”

  “You can’t heal that?”

  She shakes her head. “I told you. I have my limits.” She takes my hand when I lie back down. “I’ve only met one angel who could bring someone back from that.”

  “Zeke?”

  She nods.

  I close my eyes, failing to stop the tears that are fighting their way through. “I wish he was here,” I say.

  “Me too,” she says, caressing
my cheek. “Now that he’s stable, I’ll finish your leg next. It should be easier now that the doctor has set the bone.”

  I look down at my leg, noticing it is splinted on both sides with a fresh bandage on top of it.

  “How long have I been out?”

  “Two days,” she says. “You’ve been in and out, but never longer than a minute or two.”

  “Nal and Sara take off for Ralph’s camp yet?”

  “They left this morning,” she says. “Let’s not talk about them though. Let’s talk about you.”

  “I’m OK,” I say. “If it wasn’t for a broken leg, I’d be in top shape.”

  She smiles. “I need to know. What attacked you guys back at the power plant?”

  “Three large dogs. About the size of a house.”

  She holds her hand to her mouth. “Did they do anything weird?”

  “Like melt through the fence? Or spit lava?”

  “They must have a portal open somewhere.”

  “A portal?” I say. “You mean like the one Tamiel closed?”

  She nods. “But a smaller one. If they opened one that large, there would have been more than three.”

  “What were those things, anyways?”

  “Hell-hounds,” she says. “A better question is who let them roam free.”

  “I always thought they would be smaller. Like a chihuahua.”

  She laughs. “I wish.” She reaches down and grabs my angel blade off the floor. “Did you kill them with this?”

  I nod. “Stabbed them in the head.”

  “Good,” she says. “We never found a weakness in our battles with them. The ones we took out fell because we damaged them faster than they could heal.”

  “I’m not sure how good it is,” I say. “You have to get too close to do any good.”

  “I agree, but it is better than what we had before.”

  “I’ve seen them before,” Ralph says from across the room. “But they weren’t that big.”

  “What do you mean,” Uriel says, darting around.

  “Louis had three dogs that looked like them,” he says. “I thought they were too ugly to be rottweilers.”

  “How long has he had them?” she asks.