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Tales of the Fallen Book I: Awakenings

Page 9

by David G. Barnett


  As the man reached and then fired past the 15th floor his back erupted. A soul-shattering cry filled the night sky and Travis heard Dew mutter, “Fuck me!” But Travis kept his eyes trained on the man. He continued to scream as a golden light encircled his body. And as he drew closer to the ground he seemed to grow larger. But Travis soon realized it wasn’t the man himself getting bigger, but something behind him. Are those… Travis’ thought got cut short as he realized that, yes, what he was seeing was real and that the man had sprouted a set of large, white wings.

  The winged man’s descent slowed, but it was obvious he didn’t know how to use the wings on his back. He wobbled around in the air. His drop became more of an agitated jig as he jerked around, his wings seemingly trying to slow him down. The wings twisted and soon the man was leveling out about 50 feet above the ground. He zoomed to the left, heading down the street away from Dew and Travis. But Dew remained crouched and ready.

  The wings twisted again and gave a big flap and the man quickly changed direction and headed straight toward them. The wings continued to flap and the man flew down toward the street. His angle of descent was a sharp one and he hit the ground hard, tucking himself into a tight ball and rolling once he landed.

  Travis winced as he saw the man hit the street. Oh, shit! he thought. He half expected Dew to say something smartass, but the demon remained still, his eyes following the rolling, winged man as he tumbled past them.

  The man came to rest on his stomach about 30 feet from the alley. He lay there motionless for a few moments. Then he showed some signs of life as his wings twitched. Some soft moans emanated from the feathery mess. And very slowly the man pushed himself up and leaned back until he was kneeling, his upper body slumping to the right. His body shook in sharp spasms as he tried to gather enough air. The spasms subsided as he took a deep breath and exhaled, gaining control over his breathing once again. The man then sighed and stood. He was a little wobbly at first and stumbled over to the side of the street and grabbed hold of a lamppost for support. He hung his head, shaking it from side to side.

  Travis wanted Dew to do something. Wanted the man to do something. Wanted someone to do something. So he did. Travis took a hesitant step toward the man. “Jesus, man. Are you alright?” he asked meekly.

  Dew put his hand on Travis’ chest, shaking his head.

  The stranger straightened up and twisted his neck to look at his newfound appendages. He reached up with his right hand and pensively touched the left wing as if it were a strange dog that would bite him at any second. After a few soft strokes of the wing he relaxed some. He dropped his hand and flapped each wing separately; then both at the same time. Slowly at first, but he grew more confident in his control over them and began to flap them faster.

  Travis was sure he realized the guy’s feet had left the ground before the guy did. But it only took a few seconds before he looked down and noticed he was hovering about a foot above the street.

  “Would you look at this shit,” he said in awe of this new development. He flapped a little more and rose a couple of more feet into the air. Then he slowed his wings and settled to the ground again.

  The guy looked at Dew and Travis. “That’s new,” he said. Then excitedly, “Fucking sweeeeeet!” He hunched his shoulders and rolled them a bit and then like that, the wings were gone. “Those should come in handy.”

  He tried to smooth himself out and brush himself off, but the crash landing had done some serious damage to his clothes. Or maybe it was the explosion. Either way, the guy was a mess. But he finished fussing with himself then took a couple of steps toward Dew and Travis.

  Dew let a low growl rumble out. The man stopped. His eyes narrowed as he took in Dew. “Better leash your mutt here, boy,” he said to Travis while keeping his eyes trained on the demon.

  “He’s not my master,” Dew said, menace tainting his words.

  The man’s eyes went wide as he grinned. “It speaks. Neat.” Then he adopted a more relaxed stance. “What the hell are you, ugly?”

  Dew’s growl intensified. Travis decided to intervene.

  “Alright, guys, easy.” He moved between the two, putting his arms up. “Let’s go easy here. No need for chest thumping.”

  Travis turned his back to Dew and faced the man. “Look, we’re here for something and I’d really like to get on with it. So what say we just put our dicks away and go about our separate business.”

  The man shrugged. “Fine with me. I got some serious shit to get started on anyway.” But he paused, suddenly curious. “What are you looking for?” he asked.

  Travis started to explain, but hesitated and simply stated, “Revenge.”

  The guy’s eyes lit up. “Ain’t that a co-inky-dink… Me too. Who pissed you off?”

  Travis paused again, but for a reason he didn’t understand, went ahead and told the guy. “We’re looking for someone…”

  He could feel Dew’s hot breath on his back as the demon inhaled and exhaled heavily. “Travis… Don’t.”

  But Travis went on. “A guy.”

  “Oh yeah? What’d this guy do?” asked the guy.

  “He killed my wife.”

  The guy nodded as if he understood it all. “That’s a bitch.” Then tossing a thumb in Dew’s direction. “And what is that?”

  Travis turned sideways so he could see the guy and Dew. “This’s Dew. He’s helping me.”

  “That’s one butt-ugly tracking hound.”

  “Fuck you,” Dew spat.

  The guy laughed.

  “You don’t seem too concerned,” wondered Travis aloud. “I mean if there were a demon standing there growling at me I’d be a little concerned.”

  The guy seemed to mull this over a bit. Then he nodded. “Yeah, you’d think, right? But it’s been one of those nights. Not much is surprising me anymore. Besides—”

  “I smell the Divine on you,” Dew interrupted.

  The guy smiled. “Oh yeah?”

  “Not pure. Tainted.”

  “Buddy, you can say that again,” the guy said and started laughing again.

  “Infected with humanity.” Disgust riddled Dew’s words.

  “Uh, yeah…no. I wouldn’t say that.” The guy seemed offended. “Whatever humanity I had has been fucked out of me with a giant heavenly dildo.” The man gave Dew a wink. “But I guess you’d know about that, right?”

  “Don’t assume you know me.” Dew shook his head slightly. “I was tricked by a liar full of hollow promises. But the decisions were mine to make and I hold myself responsible for what I am.”

  This time the man’s words held disgust, “How fucking noble. So what? No revenge for you tonight, Dew?” The guy grew animated and began pacing, arms flailing about. “I mean, come on, man. Look around you. Can’t you feel it? Revenge is in the air.” Then he turned to Travis. “You…what’s your name?”

  “Travis.”

  “Look at Travis here. He’s all ready for revenge. Some eye for an eye. Tit for tat, and all that.” He turned to face Dew. “Aren’t you pissed? Don’t you want someone, something, to pay for what you’ve become.”

  Dew didn’t answer right away as he thought about what the man was saying. “What I am is of no concern to you,” Dew said softly.

  The guy shook his head. “I didn’t think a demon would be such a pussy.”

  Dew jumped forward, coming within reaching distance. Travis just barely got out of the way in time. “Check your tone with me half-breed.”

  Travis watched the guy expecting him to fall back. But he held his ground and just smiled at Dew. Travis moved forward, but not enough to get in between the two. “Okay, easy guys. Come on, calm down. We all have our reasons for what we’re doing. Knock off the name calling.”

  Travis looked at the guy. “Look… What’s your name?”

  “Well, there’s a good question. It was Mal for a long time, but recent events have me wondering just who and what I am.”

  “Okay, okay. Mal then. I don’
t want anyone to get hurt here…”

  The guy’s hand moved quickly to his pocket, disappearing for a second before reemerging with a knife. “I bet mister demon there won’t be trying anything on me too soon.”

  Travis saw Dew back up two paces when the knife was pulled. “How did you—?” Dew hissed.

  “This?” The guy moved the blade through the air. “Little gift from my mentor. Learned some interesting things about it just a little while ago. You may have seen our work.” The man flicked his head at the building behind him…the one missing the top floor.

  “That isn’t meant for you,” Dew stated flatly. “That shouldn’t exist.”

  “Yeah, well, take a good look. It does.”

  Travis stared at the knife cutting through the air, streetlight reflecting off its brilliant surface. There was no doubt there was power there—a lot of power. The air became electrified. Travis felt a prickling sensation cover his body.

  Mal stopped waving the knife. “And let me tell you something, my demon friend, it fucking works too.”

  “Who?” Dew asked.

  “Back there? Oh, maybe an old friend of yours.” Mal rolled his shoulders casually. “Guy named Jericho. You know him?’

  Dew nodded, “Once.”

  Mal laughed. “Well, best pay some respects now. Because he got a little prick from my friend here.” And Mal poked the knife out toward Dew. Dew backed away another few feet.

  Travis never took his eyes off the knife. “What is that?”

  “Tell him, Dew. You seem to recognize it.”

  Dew kept his eyes trained on the tip of the blade as if waiting for it to start talking. “The Blade of Undoing. Something that shouldn’t be… Not anymore.”

  “As you can see, it does. And my guess is that it will do to you what it just did to our angel friend back there. So my advice, Dew… Stay the fuck away from me.”

  Travis forced himself to look away from the gleaming blade. “Uh, y-y-yeah. We should go. We still have business.” Then he looked at Dew. “What say we go and look for our guy and let Mal get on with his…whatever.”

  “No,” said Dew coldly.

  Mal arched an eyebrow at the demon and braced himself, holding the knife steady in front of him.

  Travis could feel massive tension flood over the scene. He needed to end this and get Dew away from Mal. The guy was obviously dangerous and there was a hell of a lot more going on here than Travis could fathom or wanted to for that matter. Mal’s problems were his and didn’t involve them. So… “Dew, let’s go.”

  “No,” the demon said again.

  Travis was growing more nervous. “Look… You said you’d help me. You promised. You said we’d find the guy who killed Sally. Now, let’s go find him.”

  Dew looked at Travis and very quietly said, “We already have.”

  ««—»»

  Stunned silence blanketed the street and the three figures standing atop it. The already tense situation was perilously close to its snapping point as breaths found themselves trapped within heaving chests. Time stood still as Mal and Travis tried to grasp the gravity of Dew’s words.

  “Shit,” was all Mal could say as realization set in. He took a step back, shaking his head as he moved.

  Travis stood stone-still as he tried to wrap his head around Dew’s words. He looked to the demon for any signs that what he had just said was just a joke—a sick fucking joke. But Travis’ hopes were crushed with one short, quick nod from Dew, whose eyes held a mixture of sympathy and concern. But was it concern for Travis or for the demon himself? Travis’ face went slack as the reality of the situation sank in. He had come to the end of his long, long journey. He had committed countless atrocities, all in his quest for vengeance. He had literally gone to Hell and back to get to this point—to find the man responsible for the death of his one and only true love. Only this man wasn’t a man at all. Travis wasn’t sure what Mal was, but what he did know was that the demon he had summoned from the depths of Hell itself, this huge, full-blooded, scary as hell monster, was afraid of Mal. Or at least afraid of the power that Mal wielded in his hand.

  No, no, no, Travis said to himself over and over. He turned slowly in place until he was facing Mal, whose face held a wary look of shock and surprise.

  Mal held his hands up. “Look, man, I don’t…”

  Travis narrowed his eyes at Mal. “Shut up,” he ordered in a low, rough voice.

  “Seriously, I have no idea…”

  Travis’ arm shot forward, his index finger pointing accusingly at Mal. “I SAID, SHUT THE FUCK UP!”

  Mal did.

  Travis was trembling, his confusion giving way to sheer anger. “Did you kill my wife?”

  Mal looked genuinely lost. “I don’t know, man. I’ve killed a lot of people.”

  “I don’t care about ‘a lot of people.’ I only care about one,” Travis stated.

  Mal shrugged his shoulders. “How am I supposed to know? I mean, it’s possible. Shit…”

  Travis dropped his arm and reached inside his jacket. Mal stiffened, preparing for an attack. Dew did the same. But when Travis’ hand reemerged it held a photo. A very old, faded, worn, black and white photo of a woman. He held it out to Mal. “Look at it. LOOK…AT…IT! Do you recognize her?”

  Mal’s eyes went wide at the realization that, yes, yes he did recognize her. He could never forget her.

  He had been given his first order: “You are to go into the school. Find room 315. Enter. Then dispense with the teacher. A Mrs. Sally Burnsfield.” And that’s exactly what Mal had done. She was his first kill, his first taste of the salvation promised him. A promise that turned out to be a lie and now that taste had become very bitter indeed.

  Travis saw the look on Mal’s face and knew instantly that Dew had not lied. This was indeed the man who had killed Sally. “You fucking bastard. You killed the only person I ever loved.”

  For the first time in a long while Mal actually felt bad about something he had done. He didn’t know this guy trembling in front of him. But he knew he had done the man wrong. But it had been so long ago—decades. Mal hadn’t thought about it in years. Hadn’t thought about his first kill, and the teacher’s hot blood running from her slit neck over his hand and down his arm. And he really didn’t want to think about it. He brought his head up and looked Travis right in the eyes. “I’m sorry,” was all he could say.

  Travis was shaking, barely able to contain his rage. “Sorry? You’re fucking sorry?” he spat. “That’s fucking great.” Then he threw his arms up in mock surrender. “Okay, all better then. Guess I’ll just go home now.”

  Mal watched Travis as he ranted and wondered how this guy could even be standing here right now. He had to be at least eighty years old.

  “Do you know how long I’ve been looking for you?”

  Mal honestly didn’t know for sure. So he just said, “A long time.”

  Travis let out a slightly maniacal laugh. “A long time? Try forty fucking years.”

  That’s some dedication Mal thought. “How did you even know I’d still be alive?”

  “I didn’t care. I just wanted to know your name. If I couldn’t get you, I’d get your family, friends, anything you cared about. But no one could help me. NO ONE! No trace of you. Nothing. You just fucking disappeared.”

  Gregory, Mal thought. He had made it so easy for Mal to do what he did. Cleaned up every trail. Made him invisible. And while Mal was briefly lost in thought Travis had moved to within inches of Mal’s face.

  “I had to find other ways. I had to do shit no one should just to get to this day and all you can say is ‘I’m sorry’?”

  Even though Mal could understand Travis’ anger, he didn’t like this man up in his face like this. So he shoved his face to where he was almost touching noses with Travis. “Yeah! That’s all I can fucking say! I…am…sorry! What the fuck do you want from me?”

  Travis stopped shaking, leveled his eyes at Mal and quietly said, “I want you dead
.”

  Mal laughed to himself. I bet, he thought. “Oh yeah.”

  “And now that Dew here knows who you are, once we get finished with you we’re going to track down your family—everyone you love—and destroy them too.”

  That made Mal laugh out loud right in Travis’ face. “My family? Ha! Not if I get to them first. And I don’t think your guard dog or especially…” Mal poked Travis in the chest, “…you are going to stop me—” And Mal ended his declaration with a solid headbutt to Travis’ nose.

  Travis dropped to his knees in an instant, blood exploding from his nose. Dew moved forward a couple of paces. Mal brought the knife up to remind Dew why he had been keeping his distance to begin with.

  “Back off, my man. You sure you want to tangle with…”

  ooof!

  Mal felt the pain no man ever wants to feel shoot up through his body as Travis’ uppercut to Mal’s balls brought tears to the assassin’s eyes. “Aw…you…fuck…,” Mal wheezed between gasps for air as he doubled over, one hand covering his now throbbing sack.

  Travis looked up defiantly and started to rise, cupping his mashed face. “STHFFIT! You bwoke my fwoonckin’—”

  The knife cut off Travis in more ways than one. Before he could even get up, Mal’s knife hand came up and slashed through the air leaving a thin crimson line across Travis’ neck. Everything stopped. No motion, no sound, just the utter stillness of an endless instant. Then…a curtain of blood dropped from the widening wound.

  Travis fell back on his haunches, his face a mask of disbelief. He choked and struggled to speak, his words a rough, gurgling mess. “No—no—no.” Tears exploded from his eyes and ran down his cheeks.

  Dew came up behind Travis and crouched down letting the little man lean back into one of his massive arms. He brought his face down next to Travis’ head. “I’m sorry, T-man.”

  Travis looked up at Dew, his eyes wide with a mixture of confusion, shock and horror. He had made it this far. Why wasn’t Dew helping? Why did he just let this happen? “Why?” he croaked.

 

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