Soultaker

by Duperre, Robert J. ;

  Shade tightened his left fist around Gypsy’s reins.

  “Cooper stole it?” Abe asked.

  “Not exactly. He had those who’d listened to him do it for him.”

  Abe closed his eyes, and Shade could see concern knit into his creased brow.

  “The real blight began three days after he left,” Mara continued. “Oil began swirling in front of the Stone Willow. Herr Wanchu rushed to tell me, and I knew immediately it was one of those rifts opening, but I was too late to warn everyone. Already a crowd had gathered in front of the Tree, and the oil latched onto them. Our people…they changed. Those who’d been exposed attacked anyone around them, including their own families.” Mara gulped, and Shade could see tears roll down her cheeks. “So many turned on us, so many died. And so all who remained standing fled. There were once two thousand two hundred and seventy-seven souls living in Ramstable.” She swept her arm out at the crowd gathered around. “Now, these four hundred and fifty-three men and women are all that’s left.”

  Shade’s eyes widened, and so did Meesh’s. Abe swiveled around and implored his stallion to back up a few steps before leaning forward and whispering, “Possessors.”

  “Possessors,” Shade and Meesh agreed in unison.

  Possessors were the most common of the demons to emerge from the fissures. Their liquid forms would seep through the gap and attach to the nearest living flesh, taking the poor soul over completely. They were violent and unreasonable, base monsters with no other purpose but to spread their affliction to others. There were at least four outbreaks a year, though usually the number of possessed was small and relatively easy to contain. Shade had encountered them a great many times over his six years of life, but never in the numbers Frau Choon described.

  “If there’s as many as Mara says, we’ll run out of silver,” Shade said.

  “I know,” Abe answered. “But we have no choice.”

  “If you say so,” Shade said.

  Mesh chuckled. “Hell, we won’t need ’em after today. How many times have we run across more than two fissures during a single expedition?”

  “Never.”

  Abe looked grim. “There’s a first time for everything.”

  “Will you help us, Abe?” came Mara’s strong voice. “Will you atone for your past misdeeds by ridding our home of this blight?”

  Abe turned to face her once again. “We will, Milady,” he replied. “However, you must know that there is no coming back for the afflicted. They are your loved ones no longer. Their minds belong to the demon oil. They must all perish, and I will not have blame for that laid on our heads. And we will need your help.”

  The woman inclined her head. “Thank you. We will do what we can to assist you.”

  Shade pressed Gypsy forward. “Good,” he said. “Now tell us how many of those hand cannons you people have at your disposal.”

  Ramstable was a large yet quaint town of solidly constructed wooden buildings. There was a main street with side roads and residential neighborhoods, an opera house, five taverns, a small temple dedicated to the Pentus (surely the least-used building of them all), and two schools, all rising out of the middle of the desert. Besides Lemsberg and the two cities that had been built by the Elders, it was the largest and most complex settlement in all of the Wasteland. And from a distance, it looked peaceful.

  Shade felt a twinge of hatred as he crouched behind a dune and gazed through his spyglass at the seemingly empty township. Ramstable had been the primary recipient of the lumber deal Shade had helped settle. Vera’s exquisite face entered his mind, his anger hummed.

  “What do you see?” someone called out.

  “Not much.”

  Shade rolled over and slid down the dune. He rose to his feet and faced his brothers and the thirty-six townspeople who’d joined them. Of those thirty-six, only half had hand cannons; the others carried handcrafted bows and arrows. Shade hoped that would be enough, especially seeing as iron balls would barely slow the demons and hand cannons had to be reloaded after every shot. He didn’t fancy dying to a bunch of possessors.

  “It looks empty,” he told the crowd.

  “You think they left?” asked one of the volunteers.

  “No,” Shade said. “Possessors can’t live without feeding and spreading their influence. There’s no way they could cross even the two miles that separate this town from the Red Cliffs. They’ll be dormant, waiting for new hosts.” He glanced up at the sun, steadily progressing toward the west. They had maybe four hours of daylight left. “They’re also most vulnerable during the day,” he told them. “Sunlight makes them sluggish. We do this now, and do it quickly.”

  Moha, the rugged young man who’d taken charge of the volunteers, stepped forward. His fists twisted around the length of his hand cannon. “What do we do?” he asked, chomping on a ragweed stem.

  Shade looked to Abe, who stared back with his mouth a flattened line. Take the lead, the look said. Shade nodded. “This’ll be simple,” he said. “We’ll ride ahead and you follow. Don’t make a sound until we enter the town. We want the possessors surprised and hungry, not lying in wait. When I give the signal, scream louder than you ever have before. But be ready. If there are really as many as you’ve all told me, then when they come at us, it’ll be like a swarm. Gather together, bows in back and hand cannons in front. Your weapons won’t kill them unless you separate their heads from their bodies, so concentrate on the joints. Try to disable them. If any get near, rely on pikes and knives. But don’t let their blood get in your mouth, eyes, nose, or ears.” He lowered his head and spoke gravely. “Should that happen to the man next to you, cut off his head before he even starts to twitch, because the change is quick. I’ve seen how practical you all can be when capturing the sand spider. Use that same practicality now.”

  “And what of you?” asked a young woman. “What will you three do?”

  Shade smiled. “We’re going close the fissure and murder as many demons as we can. Now get ready. Say prayers if you wish. We head out in ten minutes.”

  The volunteers gathered together, and Shade hoped they were far enough away from the town that the possessors wouldn’t hear their frightened murmurs. He went back to his brothers. Abe looked deep in thought, his brow creased. Meesh purred and twirled his revolvers.

  “So, who’s gonna do it this time?” Shade asked.

  “I say Abe,” Meesh said. “He did it last time.”

  “No can do,” Abe said, patting the railgun slung across his back. “You’ll need me given how many demons there are bound to be. It has to be one of you two.”

  “Not me,” said Shade. “Gypsy doesn’t do well in enclosed environments.”

  Meesh’s constant grin widened. “You serious?”

  “Yup,” said Abe with a nod. “You were so eager to do it on the mountain. Now’s your chance.” He reached into the pocket on his belt, removed one of the vials, and handed it over. “Have fun.”

  “I will, you jackass,” Meesh laughed.

  Abe mounted his stallion. “Now let’s get this over with. Brother, take point.”

  On Shade’s command, the thirty-nine souls scurried up and over the dune and slowly approached the town. Kicked-up sand formed a cloud around Ramstable’s would-be saviors. No one said a word, and the knights’ horses were blessedly silent. Shade glanced over his shoulder at those trudging behind. Ideally the volunteers would have been mounted as well, but common horses might panic and run off when hell erupted around them.

  It took a half-hour to cross the sandy landscape, and when they first set foot on Ramstable’s dirt-covered slate road, some of the volunteers whimpered. Corpses too ravaged to host the possessor infection packed the sides of the street, but there was no stink, as they had been desiccated by the red desert sun. The town’s buildings were covered with dust; most of the window shutters had been left open.

  Gypsy’s hoof struck a stone, and the clank sounded unnaturally loud to Shade’s ears. To his left, somethin
g stirred in a darkened cobbler’s shop. Shade grimaced and glanced at his brothers. Abe lifted his railgun while Meesh carried a single pistol against his chest. Both their expressions were blank.

  Fortune was with them, and the group reached the town center without incident. They stopped at the square in front of Ramstable’s town hall—a sandy, cobbled ring two hundred feet wide. The volunteers did as they were told, gathering in a circle, those with hand cannons in front. The knights sat atop their horses and waited. Still nothing moved. Shade glanced down the southward bend of the main road and saw the Stone Willow sixty yards away, a massive gray sculpture whose drooping, naked limbs looked like spikes. The fissure eddied in front of it, black and ominous. He noticed Meesh glancing that way too, and held out his hand to stop his brother from approaching. Among all the demons that slipped into this reality, possessors were alone in protecting the fissure that allowed them to live, for the force of its closing would suck them all back to the hell from which they came.

  What Meesh needed was a distraction to pull their attention away from the fissure. One that Shade was about to supply.

  “Now!” he ordered, and the volunteers erupted in screams and bellows. Insults were hurled toward vacant homes and shops. Shade’s brothers sang the hymn they’d sung on their first night together, and he joined in. One, two, three, he thought. C’mon, show yourselves.

  Quick as a lightning strike, a sea of tainted humanity surged from the surrounding buildings. They fell from windows, rushed out doorways, leapt from rooftops. The beasts were pale with cracked flesh; the hair fell from their heads in clumps. Their mouths opened inhumanly wide and tongues that ended in barbs lolled out. Their callous shrieks overwhelmed all else. Shade shouldered Rosetta and spun Gypsy in a circle. There were so many of them, five hundred at least that he could see. “Kill them all!” he shouted. The air exploded with gunfire.

  Praying those with hand cannons had aim enough not to hit him in the back, Shade kicked Gypsy forward. He squeezed his knees to the horse’s flank and, with two hands on Rosetta, let loose one silver slug after another. He struck one demon in the face, and after its features imploded a plume of flame burst from the back of its head. A slug struck another in the chest and launched it backward. Still another was nearly sheared in half when a slug ripped through its midsection. It collapsed on its side while its eyes burned out of its skull.

  Abe’s railgun roared to life. Shade felled another demon, pivoting to see the eldest knight kneeling on the ground, his body vibrating as his weapon rumbled. The man swept from side to side, cutting through the lurching horde of inhuman monsters. Five fell, then ten, then twenty; through the dust, Shade could see their eyes go aflame as they shuddered and died. Abe finally ran out of ammo and scurried to his feet. He ejected one clip and swiftly replaced it with another. The onslaught began anew.

  Shade turned back to the advancing demons and cringed at how many there were. Far too many for Rosetta’s paltry nine shots.

  Something grabbed his leg, and he kicked out. A demon went sprawling. Shade brought Rosetta down to kill the thing, but a bullet punched through its skull and it went into spasms. Mesh galloped in from the right, firing both his pistols at once. He was grace in motion; his hands danced each time one of his pistols recoiled. Inspired, Shade reloaded and urged Gypsy onward. The horse whinnied, likely spooked by how many hellish creatures there were. The beasts were only twenty feet away at most and advancing quickly. The lead balls and arrows launched by the volunteers did little to slow them down.

  Shade fired again, and a demon’s face exploded. He then glanced down the southern road, thankful for the added height his trusty mare offered him. The Stone Willow was clear.

  “Meesh, now!” Shade bellowed.

  The youngest knight let out a Hyah! and leaned forward in his saddle, reins clenched in his teeth. His horse shot ahead, and Meesh’s pistols boomed. Demons were tossed out of the way or fell down shrieking when shot, which opened a gap for Meesh to ride through. When he forced his way past the line of demons, half their numbers went to chase after him while the others continued to advance on the nearly helpless defenders.

  “Hurry up, man,” Shade whispered. Rosetta bucked in his grip. Another nine shots gone; only two remained in his belt. “Screw this.”

  Screams came from behind him, and Shade pulled on the reins to turn about. The demons had hemmed in the volunteers, who could do little to hold them back. They surrounded Shade as well, their sickly smooth hands pawing at his breeches. Taking a deep breath to calm himself, he looped Rosetta’s strap over his head and whipped out his Eldersword. Its infectious song blared in his head as it extended to its full length. The blade flared blue with only the faintest hint of green.

  He hacked at the demons, lopping off heads and severing barbed tongues. A stray arrow flew overhead. Gypsy suddenly nickered and reared back, and Shade slipped from the saddle. He hit the ground hard, his spine jolted. On instinct he lashed out to the side. The blade drove into a possessed man’s face, all the way to the hilt, and when the demon’s eyes flared with killing fire, the flames singed the hairs on the back of Shade’s hand. He shouted and scrabbled to his feet. With a single jerk, the Eldersword sliced through the dead demon’s skull.

  He battled his way through the crush of bodies, fire erupting each time he killed one of the beasts. The volunteers’ screams grew quieter, and even as Shade hewed he realized he hadn’t heard Abe’s railgun go off in quite some time. If you’ve killed him… he thought as he sliced the Eldersword through a demon’s throat. His anger grew, fueling the Rush, and his blade’s color darkened to a deep, dark crimson.

  He fought with abandon, even as clawed hands ripped into his sides and the demon’s barbs pierced his flesh. A primal scream left his throat. He leapt into the air and jammed the Eldersword down on the top of a monster’s head as hard as he could; the force of his landing nearly bent the creature in half. He peered through the swarming bodies to see that many of the volunteers still fought, only with spears instead of ranged weapons. Good.

  “Come on, Meesh!” he roared. Another swing, another demon’s eyes burned out of its skull.

  An ear-splitting whine assaulted his brain. He dropped the Eldersword, slid to his knees, and covered his ears. All around him, demons shrieked to the heavens. Their mouths fell open, and from within came funnels of thick, oily black smoke. A blast of continuous air, like a sideways twister, swept over the square. It gathered the matter ejected from the demons’ bodies and sent it flying in the opposite direction.

  Toward the Stone Willow. Toward the fissure.

  Meesh had succeeded.

  Shade stooped lower as people collapsed around him. Empty husks thudded on the cobbles. Their clothing, now rags, flapped in the gale, the only parts of them that moved.

  Gradually the surging wind subsided and an eerie calm overtook the square. There was an audible pop as the distant fissure closed. Shade took his hands from his ears, grabbed hold of his Eldersword, and stood up. The remaining volunteers, all bloodied, gaped at the carnage. Abe approached them; blood from a wound on his bald head snaked along his cheek and dripped off his chin. Shade then looked to the south, where he saw Meesh trotting up on Pam, a wide grin stretched across his face.

  Pam. Gypsy. Oh no.

  Shade spun around and weaved through the maze of bodies until he found his trusty horse. She was on her side, breathing heavily. Her stomach had been torn open, her entrails leaked across the cobbles. Shade knelt beside her and placed a hand on her neck. A huge brown eye rolled to look at him. She let loose a dying whinny.

  “I’m sorry, girl,” Shade whispered. He felt himself choking up. It wasn’t lost to him that he, a man who’d seen so much death, would be saddened by the passing of a damn horse.

  He brought the hilt of his Eldersword beneath Gypsy’s thick neck. The horse closed her eyes as if she knew what came next. Shade wished the blade to extend, and extend it did. The tip burst through the top of Gypsy’s skull.
The horse shuddered and died.

  Shade clipped the sword to his belt and backed up, staring at Gypsy’s lifeless body. For a moment, the bevy of other corpses was invisible to him, until he stumbled on a young girl, barely ten years old. Her mouth was opened wide, as were the bodies of all the other possessed, and her eyes were blackened holes. Shade knelt over the corpse and eased her jaw shut. The tears he’d felt coming on when he ended Gypsy’s suffering now fell for real. This girl would never grow up, would never laugh, would never enjoy her parents’ loving embrace.

  It’s not fair, he told himself.

  It was Cooper’s fault. All of it. No matter how illogical it seemed, one simple fact remained true: everywhere that bastard went, death followed.

  “You’re next,” he whispered as he bent over Gypsy’s corpse and cut the sack filled with Heartcubes from her saddle. Tossing the sack over his shoulder, he promised himself that when he killed the man, he’d do it slowly, while screaming Vera’s name. He would offer no mercy. None at all.

  6

  “VEDO COSE CHE NON DOVREBBERO ESSERE…ALBERI ALL'ORIZZONTE…MIA MADRE…HO UNA MADRE!”

  —ABEDNEGO THE 12TH

  11 SECONDS BEFORE DEMISE

  In all, only eleven of the volunteers perished. It could have been worse, Abe thought.

  Truthfully, it was worse. In the aftermath of Meesh sealing the fissure, Abe had ordered his brothers to walk amongst the dead while the volunteers gathered up their fallen brethren. The knights came up with a combined rough count of five hundred and eighty-nine corpses—and that didn’t include those rotting hides lining the streets, the ones left behind when the plague of the demon oil first appeared. Abe had thought for a moment that maybe they should begin counting those as well, but judging from the way his brothers looked as they went about their grim duties, he knew that even if they had the time they would not be up to the task.