by Tim Waggoner
I should've known better.
As we rounded the corner, Carnage hit his brakes and came to a screeching stop. The street before us was filled with Baron's creatures – male and female, some battle damaged but still functional, all of them huge, grotesque and completely insane, thanks to the power of Osseal's song.
"We should've expected this," I said. "It looks like Baron has ordered his creations to join ranks and began an organized assault on the city."
"Maybe we can go around them," Devona said.
"Let's go through," Overkill said. She pushed a button on Carnage's dash and I expected to hear the ratcheting noise of his hood mounted machine gun activating. But instead a humming sound came from the rear of the vehicle, and I turned around to see a new weapon rising from the trunk. It had a long barrel like a gun, and a thick rubber hose extended from the back, connecting it to something in the trunk I couldn't see.
I turned to Overkill. "What's that?"
"Flamethrower," she said, grinning.
The weapon continued rising until it extended above Carnage's roof. The mass of monsters had continued to advance while Carnage had been deploying the flamethrower and now they were almost upon us. We didn't wait for Carnage to attack. The three of us leaned out and started firing our weapons. Overkill let loose with her P-90 and I fired my .45. Instead of using her borrowed 9mm, though, Devona selected one of the items Shrike had brought us – an explosive hawthorn ball. She hurled the device into the crowd of monsters and it burst apart in a shower of deadly sharp thorns. Devona immediately followed up by employing the 9mm.
None of our efforts produced any casualties, but the weapons fire gave the monsters pause, allowing Carnage to finish getting his flamethrower into position and activate it. A stream of flame shot into the creatures' ranks, and they bellowed in pain and anger as their clothes caught fire and their flesh blackened and burned. According to Devona, the stench was horrific. Carnage continued spraying fire at the monsters, swiveling the flamethrower back and forth to get as many as possible. Roaring, Baron's army backed up to get away from the deadly flames.
No one especially likes being hosed by fire – with the possible exception of Scorch – but Frankenstein monsters are especially susceptible to it (as am I, dry-fleshed thing that I am). In their case, there's something about the chemicals Baron uses as part of the reanimation process that react violently to fire, and as we watched, those monsters who were burning most furiously swelled up like balloons and exploded in showers of crispy black skin and steaming gore. Those explosions alarmed the surviving monsters even more, and they quickly moved out of our path.
Carnage started forward again, rolling slowly and spraying fire back and forth as we went, while Devona, Overkill and I continued to fire our weapons at any creature who took it into his or her head to risk the fire and come toward us. It was slow going, but we made it to the end of the block. Unfortunately Carnage's flamethrower was running out of fuel and the length and strength of the flame stream was severely diminished. The surviving monsters didn't fail to take note of this and they were beginning to mass together and approach again, making sure to stay just out of the flamethrower's newly limited range.
"That's the building we want!" I pointed to the warehouse, and Carnage zoomed over the curb and parked.
"This is our stop," I said to Overkill as I reached for my door handle. "Thanks for the help."
She grabbed hold of my arm to stop me. "I'm going with you. There's no way I'm going to miss out on the main event!"
"You don't understand. You can't come with us." I wanted to explain to her that Devona and I were both under a spell that wouldn't allow us to reveal the truth about where we were going and that our heads would explode if we ever tried. But of course, the tongue worm prevented me from doing even that much, and I felt a sudden stabbing pain in my mouth which, considering that I had no functioning nerves there, came as a shock to me.
Devona glanced out the car window.
"We don't have time for this," she said. "The monsters are coming." She leaned forward, grabbed Overkill by the shoulders, and turned the woman halfway around to face her. Devona's eyes flared red and she hissed a single word. "Sleep!"
Overkill tried to resist, but the psychic powers of a half-vampire are formidable, and Devona's had only gotten stronger since I'd met her. Overkill's eyes rolled up in her head, and she slumped over onto me, snoring softly. I gently pushed her off me and scooted over so she could lie flat on the seat.
"Carnage," Devona said, "as soon as we get out, take her away from here as fast as you can."
Carnage didn't respond at first, and Devona sighed. "Don't worry. If we make it through this, we'll see to it you get paid one way or another. You have our word on it."
Carnage might not be able to speak English, but the Caddy understood it well enough. He tooted his horn once, Devona and I climbed out, and he lost no time in peeling out of there, knocking aside several of Baron's creatures in the process. He didn't bother using his flamethrower, and I knew that the weapon was out of fuel. I hoped Carnage and Overkill would make it to safety. They might have been mercenaries, but we'd never have made it to the warehouse without their help. Of course, getting here was no guarantee that we'd survive to get inside. Without the threat of Carnage's flamethrower to keep them at bay, Baron's monsters were closing in on us fast.
We ran to the closest door and found it locked. Devona kicked it in and we ran inside, but at the threshold I paused. The nearest monster was almost within grabbing distance of me and I knew that we needed some kind of diversion to slow him and his buddies down long enough to get to the Underwalk entrance. I reached into my pocket, pulled out the first object that came to hand and threw it at the monster. The flea bomb – which I'd originally considered using against Ferdinand – was a smooth piece of amber inside of which was trapped a single insect. But when the amber struck the monster's chest, it burst open and hundreds of fleas poured forth, covering his body. Within seconds the fleas found their way beneath their new host's clothing and began biting. The monster roared in irritation and began slapping at his body, trying to crush the pests gnawing at him, but there were too many. He stood there, gyrating and contorting as he scratched and smacked himself, making a very effective door block that prevented his fellow monsters from getting past. And when they got too close some of the fleas leaped from his body to theirs. Within moments the entire mass of monsters was scratching frantically, trying to dislodge the fleas infesting their bodies. That's the beautiful thing about flea bombs: once activated, the number of fleas continues to magically increase until all host bodies in the area are infested. It's a diabolically nasty joke, one of Hop Frog's best, and I mentally thanked Shrike for picking it up for me before I turned and followed Devona into the warehouse.
SIXTEEN
Getting into the Underwalk was a simple matter of opening a hidden panel in the floor and climbing down a ladder. The panel was spelled so only people with tongue worms could open it and, though I didn't know for sure, I guessed there was a number of lethal security precautions in place in case someone without a tongue worm somehow managed to get into the tunnel.
Once we reached the bottom of the ladder a fluorescent light panel in the ceiling activated. Devona and I looked around, but we were alone and there were no Dominari trams in sight. Considering the latter were driven by vermen reanimated by Victor Baron, I decided that wasn't a bad thing.
Since there was no way the monsters pursuing us could get into the tunnel, I took a few moments to reload my .45. Devona, unfortunately, had no extra ammunition for her 9mm, and she tucked it into the back waistband of her skirt. I used up the last of my own ammo refilling the .45's clip, so I'd need to be stingy with my bullets from here on out since I wasn't likely to stumble across anymore boxes of ammo lying around in the Underwalk.
"Do you remember the way?" Devona asked.
"To Tenebrus, yes. But after that, your guess is as good as mine."
"L
et's start heading in that direction," she said. "It'll at least get us halfway to the Foundry. After that, we'll play it by ear."
"Sounds like a plan," I said, and we started walking.
We hadn't walked for ten minutes before we saw the headlights of a tram heading toward us, the electric hum of the engine getting louder as it drew near.
"I think we may have just found ourselves a ride," I said.
I stepped into the middle of the tunnel, directly into the tram's path. Devona joined me, though I would've preferred her to keep close to the tunnel wall where it was safer. I didn't say anything, however. Devona is just as capable as I am in dangerous situations. Besides, I knew she wouldn't listen to me.
The light panels on the ceiling above the tram had trouble activating fast enough to illuminate the vehicle's progress and we could only catch glimpses of the vehicle and its driver as they moved from patches of light to patches of darkness, but those glimpses were enough to confirm that the tram was being driven my a reanimated verman and like all the other creations of Victor Baron's we'd seen, this one was caught in the grip of bloodlust.
The creature aimed the tram directly at me and from the bloodstains covering the vehicle's front I knew I wouldn't be the verman's first victim since Osseal began singing its song of death and destruction. But then, I didn't intend to just stand there and let the reanimated ratman run me down.
I still had a few surprises left, thanks to Shrike and I reached into my right side pocket with my left hand – I still held my .45 with my right – and removed a small red-skinned lizard. Its eyes were closed and it appeared dead, though its body wasn't stiff and there was no sign of decay. I held the lizard out in front of me, pointed it headfirst at the oncoming tram, and gave its belly a gentle squeeze. The lizard woke in my hand, opened its mouth and released a thin stream of fire at the tram. My left hand still wasn't fully coordinated, thanks to Baron's sloppy reconnection of my brain to my central nervous system, and my aim was slightly off, but then I wasn't trying to hit the verman.
The salamander's flame was nowhere near as powerful as that produced by Carnage's flamethrower, but it was enough to frighten the reanimated verman. The creature roared in fear and anger and turned the wheel to get away from the deadly fire. At the speed the tram was going, the sudden change in direction caused it to swerve. I tried to get out of the way, but I was too slow, and the tram clipped my leg. The impact spun me around and flung me to the ground. I watched the tram topple and slide on its side for a dozen feet before finally crashing into the tunnel wall and coming to a stop.
I'd stopped squeezing the salamander when I fell, though I'd managed to hold on to it. Its flame extinguished, it fell back to sleep, and it would remain that way until I woke it again. Small salamanders like this one are used in Nekropolis the same way lighters are on Earth, and while they don't produce all that much flame, I'd counted on the intense fear Baron's creatures had of fire to make up for the salamander's feeble stream, and my gamble had paid off.
I got to my feet and was relieved to find my leg wasn't broken – or at least not broken severely enough to keep me from walking. I limped toward the wrecked tram, intending to put a couple bullets in the reanimated verman's brain before he could extricate himself and resume trying to kill us. But Devona beat me to him. Moving with supernatural swiftness, she reached the tram in a blur of motion, knelt, grabbed hold of the verman's head and gave it a savage twist. The sound of snapping bone cut through the air and the verman's body fell limp. I knew the creature was dead (again), but I kept my .45 aimed at its head as I approached. In Nekropolis safe is always better than sorry. But the de-animated verman had the good grace to stay dead and Devona pulled his body free from the tram and left it lying next to the tunnel wall.
Together we righted the tram and quick examination revealed that while the vehicle was banged up pretty good, it was still functional. We climbed in, pushed a button to turn on the engine, and – with me driving – we headed down the tunnel in the direction of Tenebrus. Given my problems with my left hand, I would've preferred Devona drive, but since she was reared in Gothtown, the daughter of a Darklord, she'd always had drivers to take her wherever she wanted, so she'd never learned to drive herself. Since I needed both hands to drive, and since Devona's 9mm was out of ammo, I handed her my .45 and we both kept a sharp lookout for other reanimated vermen, whether on trams or on foot, as we drove. We came across a couple wrecked trams and the mutilated bodies of regular vermen which we maneuvered around, but we saw no sign of the Victor Baron variety. Presumably they were off causing mayhem elsewhere in the Underwalk.
"I'm not sure what your problem with Overkill was," I said after we'd been driving for a bit. "She did help us out."
Devona's face scrunched into a truly impressive scowl at the mention of Overkill's name. "It's not her that I have a problem with. It's the way she was flirting with you."
"Um… what?"
"Don't play coy. The way she was acting, I'm surprised she didn't jump your bones right there in Carnage's front seat."
I admit to not always being the fastest on the uptake when it comes to emotional stuff, but I really didn't believe Overkill was flirting with me. There might've been a certain amount of mutual appreciation of each other's skills going on, but flirting?
"That's ridiculous," I said. "And even if it was true – and I don't think it is – it doesn't matter. You have absolutely no reason to be jealous of her."
"And you don't have any reason to be jealous of Bogdan," Devona countered, "but that doesn't stop you from feeling that way, does it?"
"Touché," I said, feeling more than a little embarrassed. I decided to change the subject. "How are you doing after…" I struggled to find a way to express what I was trying to say. "Being trapped in Orlock's dome," I finally said. It didn't come close to communicating everything I wanted to say, but it was the best I could do.
"I'm managing," Devona said. She gave me a weak smile. "It helps that we're busy fighting to save the city again."
I smiled back. "Yeah, life-and-death battles have a wonderful way of distracting one from personal problems."
Her smile fell away. "How about you? How are you doing?"
"Coping," I said. "Even though I know it was all an illusion, it felt so real. You know?"
"Yes."
She put her hand on my leg and squeezed once and that was the last we spoke until we drew near the section of the Underwalk where I'd escaped from Tenebrus. I'd paid close attention at the time, so even though there were no markers of any sort to indicate our location, I was fairly confident we were in the right spot. But I knew it for certain when I saw Gnasher running down the tunnel toward us, his red albino eyes wide with terror. An instant later I saw why. The silvery shape of an Overwatcher glided through the air behind him, the skull faced creature moving with silent, menacing grace, like some manner of airborne shark. The Overwatcher's eye sockets began to glow a bright crimson and I knew the reanimated brain inside – driven insane by Osseal's song – was powering up its optic energy blasters to take out Gnasher.
Devona and I exchanged glances and in that same instant we telepathically came up with a plan. I worked the tram's throttle and the engine whined as the vehicle picked up speed.
"Gnasher, your dire blade!" I shouted. "Throw it straight up into the air!"
The verman had no idea what we were planning, but his people were quick witted and had even swifter reflexes. In a single smooth motion he drew the dire blade, the same one I'd slain Lycanthropus Rex with, and tossed it into the air. Devona dropped the .45 onto the floor of the tram then sprang out of her seat, adding the power of her half-vampire legs to the vehicle's forward momentum. As she sailed through the air, hands outstretched, I swerved the tram to avoid hitting Gnasher and gripped the wheel with my right hand which reaching out to the verman with my left. Gnasher reached back for me and I snagged his hand, swung him into the tram and he scurried into the back seat. At the same instant Devona's fi
ngers wrapped around the dire blade's hilt and momentum carried her straight for the Overwatcher. She landed on the creature's smooth metal back right behind its skull, straddling it backward. Petite though she is, the sudden addition of her weight caused the Overwatcher to dip slightly, and when it unleashed its eye beams, the twin bolts of ruby energy missed Gnasher and me, striking the tunnel floor and melting a section of the organic looking substance.
The tunnel shuddered then and a low tone reverberated through the air, almost like a moan. I thought of the organic nature of so much of Nekropolis – the Underwalk, Tenebrus, much of the strange architecture in the Sprawl – and for the first time since I'd come to the city, I found myself wondering if the Darkfolk hadn't constructed their other-dimensional home so much as grown it. Was Nekropolis itself in some bizarre fashion alive?
As disturbing as the thought was I thankfully didn't have time to pursue it. I watched as Devona turned at the waist and slammed the dire blade into the Overwatcher's silver skull. Dire blades aren't just supernaturally deadly, they're supernaturally sharp as well. With Devona's strength to power it the blade easily pierced the Overwatcher's metallic hide and sank into the soft brain beneath. The effect was immediate. The crimson light in the Overwatcher's eye sockets winked out and the creature crashed to the tunnel floor. Devona managed to jump free in time, though she had to leave the dire blade embedded in the Overwatcher's skull. She landed with a fluid grace that I found incredibly sexy. I slowed down, intending to stop and pick her up, and she started running toward the downed Overwatcher in order to retrieve the dire blade, but Gnasher shouted, "Leave it! Those things are designed to explode once they're brought down!"
