by Amy Braun
The Plagued exploded.
Bits of bone and skin slapped against my face, arms, and chest. Blood painted me. I blinked it out of my eyes, staring at an empty space where a dead man used to be.
Yeah, that was one of my best tricks. But man, did it take a lot of work. Controlling the insides of a person’s anatomy was difficult, but I knew how to do it. I just wish I hadn’t felt part of my power leave with it.
I blasted two more Plagued with the same explosive ball, turning my pale skin and white blond hair an intense cherry red. I was probably going to regret this later, since there were no rainclouds in the sky and no chance of a shower. Oh well. It’s always good to practice.
The rest of the Plagued were far enough back that I wasn’t worried about throwing the grenade now. I hooked my leg over the side of the ledge and slipped onto the ladder, pulling the egg-shaped grenade out of my pocket and gripping the pin with my teeth. I yanked the pin out, flipped up the spoon, and tossed it into the crowd of lumbering Plagued. I moved faster than anyone else down the ladder, since I was the only unfortunate bastard left on it.
Five seconds down, and the grenade exploded.
The shock made the top of the ladder tremble, thick smoke and red chunks of dead blood flying through the window. I held on tightly, making sure I wouldn’t fall. I looked up, but there didn’t seem to be any other Plagued making their way down. Still, I had no idea if that one blast had killed them all, but I wasn’t about to stick around and find out.
I felt bad about Simon’s food stash. There’d been some good eats there. Hopefully I could find him Cheerios somewhere.
It took me a couple more minutes to reach the bottom of the ladder and jump onto the dock. Simon and Maddy rushed over to me, worry, relief, and horror twisting their faces almost hilariously.
“Are you okay?” Maddy asked in a rush. “Were you bitten?”
“Don’t think I’d have made it down the ladder if I was,” I grinned at her.
She grimaced. I couldn’t blame her. I must look like Carrie’s sociopathic cousin right now.
Simon was starting up at his former home. His expression was no longer readable.
“Sorry, man,” I told him.
He continued to stare at the suite floor, which still belched smoke. “Let’s go,” was all he said before walking away.
Damn. I was in big trouble now.
Taking the machete off my back, I followed my brother and the rest of the humans around the dock to the grounds. Simon had been right. There weren’t many Plagued around here, and I couldn’t see any Soulless. Any undead that got too close were shot down by Simon. He needed to vent, and I wasn’t about to stop him. Especially when he made an effort to recover every arrow he fired.
When we got to the grounds, things started to change. Plagued were wandering aimlessly, searching for the loud noise they’d heard. There were at least fifty of them, each one more disoriented than the next. Ducks in the shooting gallery.
But gut instinct told me the Soulless that Simon had seen earlier were still out there. The problem was that even in the fresh morning sun, I couldn’t see them. They hated the light, and while it couldn’t kill them like folklore vampires, they would avoid it at all costs. When we turned into the main grounds and raced for the bus, I moved to the head of the column with Simon. The Soulless were under Ciaran’s command, and he wanted to kill us. Least we could do for the humans was to make ourselves known to the son of a bitch’s brute squad.
Yet nothing attacked us, even when we got to the bus. Simon put his bow over one shoulder and drew a sharp metal stake from under his hoodie, that looked like it was used to pin tents to the ground, and used it to stab the Plagued surrounding the bus in the eye or the temple. I took the other side, swinging my machete and chopping off so many heads I would probably make Jack Ketch jealous. When the humans finally caught up with us, Ricardo ran to the side of the truck that had broken down so we could form a loose circle around him.
Even spread out as they were, the Plagued could literally smell human flesh from a quarter mile away. Their hearing was just as good, and every single vacant eyed flesh biter turned their empty heads in our direction. After that, it was like watching a bunch of tacks being drawn toward a magnet.
“Fuck,” Ricardo hissed.
“What’s wrong?” Josh demanded.
“The tires got slashed,” confessed the large man. “I’ve gotta replace them all, and fix the stupid exhaust leak.”
“You got any spare tires?” I asked, gripping my machete tightly and flicking drops of blood off of it.
I looked at Simon. He caught my gaze, read my eyes, and nodded reluctantly. He shouldered his bow and took out a second stake from his belt underneath his hoodie.
“Yeah, but it’ll take a while to–”
“Then stop talking and get working. Everyone else cover us.”
I thought I heard Maddy asking what we were about to do, but Simon and I were already launching at the Plagued. We moved as fast as possible, Simon taking out another metal stake and started stabbing his stake directly into the brains of the Plagued while I took off their heads. Gunfire cracked through the air, more Plagued dropping around us as the humans fired at them.
Killing the Plagued was easy, but they weren’t our real targets.
Come on out, assholes. You know you want to, and I want Ciaran to see what we can do to you.
We didn’t have to wait very long.
Laurel’s scream gave me enough warning. I spun on my heel, the machete arched as I whirled around. It was a heavy blade, not designed for throwing, but I had enough practice that it flew easily when I let go. The machete flipped end over end and slammed into the Soulless charging Laurel. It didn’t strike him in the head, jamming into the side of his ribs and upper back, but I was already running after the blade.
When the machete hit the Soulless, he collapsed onto its front, screaming and spitting from the pain. It landed on the ground, scraping his claws against the pavement and pushing himself up. He saw me coming out of the corner of his eye, reaching back to grab the machete from his side and tear it out. The Soulless rose and turned, swung my own weapon at me. I skidded to a stop and hunched over, the machete slicing through my shirt and just barely missing my skin. The Soulless, a big bruiser with pasty skin and tumbling black hair, was not happy about the slice I’d given him. Even though it was already healing, and would be no more than a paper cut soon.
He swung his clawed hand up for my chin, forcing me to tilt my head back and let his knuckles brush against my face. I snapped out my right arm and blocked his punch to my ribs, but he planted a solid kick into my stomach. I stumbled back, ignoring the pain and concentrating on defending myself.
Fighting Soulless one on one wasn’t a problem when I could just be me. Or at least the human version of me. Pretending not to be a monster in face of the handful of humans left meant I couldn’t be as tough. It meant that for them to believe I was one of them, I had to let myself get hurt.
I slowed my blocks down, being careful to avoid the claws of the Bruiser Soulless, but taking a lot of kicks and elbows. He didn’t have the training I did. He was just a big, strong, and mean motherfucker. But taking the hits like a human did things nobody but me could anticipate. It let me look for open shots to take down the Soulless, and it made me look tougher in front of the humans. It let them see I was fighting for them, and they could trust me.
Then again, after so many kicks to the head, you start to give up on being a hero.
The bastard finally got me on the ground, and was ready to pounce and finish me off. I decided to break my own rule, and be a little quicker than your average mortal. While the Bruiser Soulless was jumping for my chest, I reached to the sides of my belt and grabbed both KA-BARs. I crunched upward as he flew, shoving my arms out. His face changed in mid-air, but it didn’t stop both knives from going straight into his eyes.
He was dead when he landed on me, his weight shoving me onto the ground
and sending sharp shocks through my elbows. I grunted as his dead body crushed the air from my lungs, turning and shoving him off of me. My head throbbed and my torso would be a painting of bruises, but I could still move. The other advantage I had over the regular humans was a higher pain tolerance. I’d feel every ounce of it, but it would take a lot more than a performance beat-down to stop me.
I looked back and saw two Soulless sneaking to either side of Simon while he kept going with his Abe Reles escapade. I holstered one of my combat knives and grabbed my machete, running for my brother.
The thin Soulless crouching behind the shrubs on Simon’s left saw me coming, scowling and hissing angrily. He changed his direction and hurtled over the brush straight for me. I waited until the last second, then twisted out of range and let him run past me. I turned sharply, slashing the machete across his back. The Soulless howled and whipped around, swiping his claws across my face. My head twisted from the hit, three lines of fire blazing across my cheek from where I’d been scratched. The real pain happened when the Soulless darted forward and sank his teeth in my exposed throat.
Shit! Not again!
The good news was Soulless bites couldn’t turn you Soulless. They act like vampires, but really they’re just blood hungry puppets for demons. The bad news was everything else. Once they latched onto any part of you, they set out to crush your bones and suck out all the blood they could taste.
And this bastard didn’t seem eager to let go.
Pain blinded my vision, my neck burning from the intense pressure around it. But it didn’t last long, because this dickhead missed the memo about my blood literally being poison. The Soulless twitched and jerked away from my throat, his veins were already blackening. I had to make this quick. I sliced the machete along his stomach, his intestines busting out at the freshly open seam. I kicked his feet out from under him, and sliced off his head the moment his body hit the ground. The black poison stopped spreading through his veins, blood gushing out from the nasty stump where his head used to be.
Identity covered.
That was when Simon screamed.
My heart stopped at the sound, stopping again when I looked up and saw that he’d been tackled by the other Soulless, whose fangs were deep in my brother’s neck.
Simon’s blood was tainted, like mine. The more the Soulless drank from him, the more he would starve himself. But he wouldn’t realize what was happening to his body until it was too late. He would keep drinking from Simon until he thought he was full. Simon would be long dead by then.
Not on my fucking watch he won’t.
Simon was struggling under the weight of the Soulless, his metal stake missing from his hand. He pushed and punched, but it was no use. The humans wouldn’t dare shoot at the monster, knowing they could miss and kill Simon instead.
My rage and I didn’t have any doubts.
I came around Simon’s side, kicking the Soulless in the ribs harder than a mortal could. The Soulless barked and unlatched from my brother. He looked like a construction worker who’d dressed in the dumpster. Blood smeared along his mouth and dripped from his chin, his bloodshot eyes radiating anger and hunger. He roared and tried to launch himself at me over Simon’s body, forgetting that I had a machete, and was fucking furious.
I swung the machete like a baseball bat, and sent his head on a homerun.
Dropping the machete to my side, I looked down at Simon. Blood was spattered over his neck, but he was groaning and moving. He raised one of his hands to the wound to heal it. I didn’t care that he let out some fumes right now. I just wanted him to live.
Next it was Maddy’s turn to scream. I lifted my head to see what kind of trouble she was in.
Except that she wasn’t. Her hands were wrapped around her Sig and Josh beside her shooting down Plagued while Ricardo and Jerry each finished replacing a tire. No, Maddy was screaming for me, because I was in deep shit.
I found out just how deep when I spun around, and was stabbed in the chest by an angry looking Soulless woman.
Her claws dug in deep and pushed me onto the ground next to Simon. Her knees landed on my stomach, crushing the air out of me. She snarled and clenched her fingers tighter. She must have seen that my blood poisoned her pal when he bit me, so she was playing it smart and choosing to rip me to shreds. Behind her, I could see Plagued shambling over, some of them being jerked around when a Soulless moved to break through. We were surrounded, the shadows of the dead blocking out the sun and turning the smell of fresh air into the smell of rot. Their faces were twisted, like the light was causing them pain, but they pushed on. Either they were determined to get some shots in the fight, or the demon manipulating them was eager for our blood. Neither option was appealing.
The Soulless pinning me shredded her hands down my chest, turning stab wounds into long gashes. I held back any cry of pain, not wanting Ciaran to see it. No doubt he was watching through this Soulless’ eyes and laughing.
Watch this, motherfucker.
When her hands came down again, I dropped the human act. They couldn’t see me anyway, not with the circle of dead around me. The machete moved with blurring speed, slicing her arms off at the elbows. She screamed and twisted, splattering more blood onto me. I moved the machete into a backswing, slicing open her neck. She stopped screaming, then stopped existing all together when I swung again and hacked off her head.
But I couldn’t get up. The smell of blood was in the air, and the sharks were hungry. Soulless and Plagued descended, dozens of rotting faces and bloodshot eyes hanging over me. I batted at them with the machete, but there was no way I could escape. Beside me, Simon was cursing and fighting, but he was as trapped as me.
We turned our heads and locked eyes for a moment. We knew what we had to do. We’d have to be careful about it, and think of a lie later.
He dropped his stake, and I let got of the machete. The monsters swarmed.
Their weight was so intense I almost couldn’t focus. Knees dug into my stomach and elbows poked into my chest. I couldn’t move my legs. The smell of dead bodies brought tears to my eyes.
I let the smoke seep out of me, raising it to the undead driving down for a bite. My poison moved into their mouths, sliding into their brains. I concentrated and shut down all the nerves hardwired in their skulls, paralyzing them. Then, letting my black smoke swirl like a protective shield over me, I grabbed my machete and started cutting anything overhead. I had to make it look like I’d gotten stab-happy while I was fighting for my life.
My smoke drifted higher, paralyzing more of the Soulless and Plagued.
Pull it back, Avery. Don’t lose control. Don’t let them see who you really are.
Not an easy task when the dead are literally smothering you, but I managed.
I took a second to look over and check on Simon. White smoke ebbed off of him, grazing along the Soulless and Plagued above him. He held his hands up, holding the smoke in place. The undead tried to move away as they shriveled into big, pale raisins. I didn’t know how the hell Simon was going to explain that, seeing as he was the one who’d been so adamant about us lying low. But he was alive, and that was all I cared about.
It was weird to be doing this again. A little over a year ago, we worked as a team. I slipped into the shadows and infected anyone I touched. Simon worked across the street, contaminating the food and making it inedible. We didn’t exactly give each other high fives or pats on the backs when we left the humans to cry and die, but we complimented each other. This kind of felt like the old days, and it almost made me miss them.
Almost.
It took fucking forever, but finally the dead stopped coming. Poisoned Soulless and emaciated Plagued blanketed us. We pulled back on our powers, using just a little more to heal our wounds a bit. I still had my machete, so I tried to hack my way out of the disgusting dog pile. The corpses draped over Simon twitched as he tried to break free on his own.
