80 Proof Hex_Deckland Cain 2

by D Michael Bartsch

  It would work. It had to.

  Carl stopped me on my way out the door. He looked worried. I did my best to smile, summoning up my best snake oil salesman impression.

  “It’s gonna be fine. All I need to do is get to where we’re going and call in the cavalry. Simple as that. Don’t forget, four hours. If you don’t hear from me by then, bail out and meet me at the rendezvous point. Once you’re there, wait for twenty-four hours tops. If I don’t make it by then, leave.”

  He nodded, still looking uneasy.

  “And for God sakes, take the battery out of your phone before you leave for the rendezvous,” I said. “I didn’t set the place up to have the government know exactly where we are.”

  “I will.” He said. “Watch your back out there. I don’t like this one. It’s too dangerous.”

  “What could possibly go wrong?” I asked.

  Carl didn’t answer, and I was glad because if he’d pushed the issue, I could think of a half a million ways everything could go wrong. Literally, everything I was about to do involved danger from multiple angles. He didn’t need to know that though. I needed him focused on the plan.

  Al called me from the parking lot. I left the apartment and walked outside. He was parked on the curb right out front. I threw my duffle in the backseat and climbed in. He greeted me with a white smile that gleamed in the dim lighting. I reminded myself that he was a garbage person and a Necromancer to boot. Still, I had to play it cool. I couldn’t afford to blow my cover.

  “Evening, Mr. Cain.” He said.

  “Howdy,” I said, tipping an imaginary hat. “We doing this?”

  Al popped the car into drive. “With any luck, we shall arrive at the Rift, study it completely, and then close it. We’ll repeat the process tomorrow and then be on our separate ways. I’m afraid I am tiring of the New World.”

  I snorted a laugh. “That’s the smell of freedom you English prick. It’s what kicked your country’s ass back in ole 1776.”

  In all fairness, I’d been born in England and been apart of the whole Imperialism era. That didn’t make it any less accurate though. Hell, I’d been to America before the Revolution and once more during the war. I can tell you for a fact that the Continental Army had some brass balls, Washington especially.

  “Maybe you’ll get promoted after this,” I said, keeping up my calm, cool demeanor. “You’ll have to wear one of those red dresses if you do though, the ones that come with the stupid hats and the giant Jesus chains.”

  “I must confess I have an affinity for black if I'm honest. I’m not sure red is my color.”

  I wondered if there was a reply I could make and not sound racist. I didn’t want to put any real effort into bantering anyway.

  I gave him a side eye as he drove. He was still wearing his black priest get up, complete with white collar. Knowing that he was actually a filthy Necromancer, I started to question where he’d gotten the getup. I’m sure you could buy them online, but I had a sinking feeling that it had belonged to someone else before Alastair had worn it. Definitely didn’t need to feel bad about killing the bastard. Not that I would have if he’d been a real priest.

  “You seem to be on edge, Mr. Cain. Is everything alright?”

  I screamed a thousand different obscenities in my mind. I needed to play it cucumber cool. “Yea. It’s been a long day. Had a Vampire horde try and eat me this morning. Now I’m going to a place where we have a good chance of running into them or some other asshole Hellion. No way to know what we are in for or what will happen for sure. Not exactly my dream scenario for how to spend the night.”

  “You had a run in with the Vampires this morning?” He asked.

  He sounded genuinely concerned. The son of a bitch deserved an Oscar. “Yea. Nothing major. Even managed to kill one of the little buggers too.”

  I glanced over to see how he would react. He didn’t. He just kept driving, eyes scanning the road and the mirrors. I checked the mirror myself. I looked for a black SUV somewhere in the near distance behind us. I couldn’t see anything, but that didn’t mean they weren’t there. Hell, White probably had a satellite tracking us. That’s how they would have done it on TV. Just plug into a satellite and follow us from space, no chance of getting away. In actuality, I knew he was tracking my cell phone. Which is why I’d bought a brand new burner to call Carl on once it was all said and done. I’d dump my cell with Al’s body and head out. It would give me a head start before they came looking if they thought we were still together.

  I glanced up into the air, half expecting to see a drone or one of those stealth helicopters they use to spy on us in the night.

  “Where we headed?” I asked.

  “Downtown.” He said. “Not far from where we first met actually. There is a large car park roughly in the center of the search area. My thought is to start there. It will be centralized and provide a commanding view if needed.”

  He checked his watch. I made a mental note that he was definitely British at least. No one else was enough of a douchebag to call it a car park.

  “We should arrive well before the Rift opens. That should give us time to get inside the structure and wait. Between the view and your ability to sense the Rift, I feel confident we should be able to detect it quickly.

  “With luck, we shall arrive at the Rift before any potential arrival happens. Your worry about Vampires does seem well founded though. I hope you are up to another run-in with the creatures.”

  Laying it all out on paper, it sounded like a half decent plan. I tried to think of the best time to pop the bastard. I’d love to be able to do it in the parking garage, but I knew that there was no way to make it look like an accident if that happened. I suppose I could shove him over the edge of the roof and say he tripped. Not sure anyone would buy it.

  I could always say he turned on me, that he knew somehow that I’d been communicating with White. I figured I would save that for the last resort. I could do that at the Rift just as quickly as the parking garage. Of course, if the Rift opened up in the middle of the street, that could be problematic.

  Civilians were everywhere, a Hellion, or Vampires, or both popping out and terrorizing people might not be all bad. Sure collateral damage would be high, but in the chaos, I could kill Al no problem. I had options. That was my one solace in the shitty position I’d been put in.

  “Here’s hoping,” I said.

  We drove in silence the rest of the way. Al spent his time focusing on the road, and I didn’t much feel like talking. I knew that I should have. I had a facade to keep up, but you know, at that moment, I just couldn’t bring myself to do it. I’d had a really awful week, and it was near the end. It was a lot like how I imagine ordinary people feel on a Friday afternoon around four o’clock. They are so close that they can taste it, yet, it’s still just out of reach.

  I recognized the parking garage as we pulled in. It was one of the only free ones downtown outside of the courthouse parking lot. It wasn’t too far from my apartment. If push came to shove, I could hoof it back to my car on foot and be on my way out of town in less than ten minutes. That was comforting.

  Al made his way up to the roof. It was still early enough in the evening that the spaces were mostly empty. Later on, it would fill up with a bunch of poor saps looking to lose money or buy cheap steaks. For now, we were alone by the time we reached the top floor. The only other car on the roof was a white paneled work van. Al parked a few stalls down from the van. He killed the engine and turned to me.

  “Shall we get out and take a look?” He asked, checking his watch. “We've about twenty minutes before the Rift should occur.”

  I shrugged. “What the hell. We got time.”

  I got out, leaving my bag in the car. I would have preferred to keep it next to me, but I needed to keep up the casual appearance that I’d mastered so far. I walked over to the edge of the roof, putting my elbows on the chest high concrete wall that kept people and cars from falling over the edge and plummeting
to the ground six stories below. I looked out over the edge. I could see people in the public ice rink across the street from the garage. No way people would believe Al tripped and fell over the wall on accident. That plan went out the window.

  The river was high and flowing rapidly on the other side of the rink. As I watched everything, I couldn’t help but feel like it was a pretty good view. Al had been right. It would be a good place to wait for a Rift to open up. Backing up, I turned and looked at the rest of the roof. Most of the views were cut off by casinos, but if I went to the other side of the lot, I’d still be able to see a decent way and probably be able to pick up on any magic.

  “I must say, I will be thrilled to leave this place behind.” He said.

  I glanced over at him. He was looking over the edge of the roof at the ice rink. “You know, I’ve been to London. The only thing missing is the fog.” I said. “Cities all look like this. People just think their city is nicer. Truth is, they all look the same, and all of them have back alleys and street corners that smell like piss.”

  “I don’t know if I’ve ever met a more cynical man than yourself, Mr. Cain.”

  Something about the way he said my name made me want to throw him over the edge of the roof.

  “People call it cynicism. Truth is, I’m a pragmatist. You don’t stay alive long in this business if you aren’t one.”

  Al stepped back from the wall, breathing into his hands before stuffing them into his coat pockets. It was a little cold, and he hadn’t been wearing gloves. I hope he developed frostbite in the twenty minutes it took for the Rift open. If he did, it would almost be worth it to keep him alive long enough to have to live with amputated fingers.

  “You say that, yet I think you are more an idealist than you know.” He said, walking toward me. “You did not need to help me. You can tell yourself you did it for the money. The truth is, you did it because, at the end of the day, you always do the right thing, Mr. Cain. You may be brash and hard-headed, yet you can be counted on to always do the right thing, begrudgingly, but the right thing nonetheless.” He walked closer, still talking. “That, Mr. Cain, makes you dependable. Another word for it might even be predictable.”

  I didn’t see him pull his hands out of his pockets until it was too late. Clutched in his right hand was a stun gun. There was no time to react. I didn’t even have time to think before he shoved the thing in my neck.

  Pain lanced through my body. I felt my neck seize up. The muscles in my legs tensed, going rigid as I fell over. I dropped to the ground, not even having the presence of mind to try and break my fall. Al dropped to his knees and hit me with the damn thing again. The surging electricity and the pain seemed to go on for hours. The rational part of my brain knew it would only last as long as it was against my neck. I couldn’t hear it over the incoherent grunting that my lizard brain was making.

  It stopped as quickly as it began. I kept twitching on the ground, my muscles half firing and tensing from the remembered pain.

  Al squatted down beside me, still holding the stun gun. He squeezed the trigger, making electricity dance between the prongs with a deathly crackle.

  “I’ve looked into the face of enough men sent to kill me to recognize it when I see it, Mr. Cain.” He said. “Normally, I would slit your throat and be done with it. Unfortunately for me, I need you.”

  Groaning, I reached for the stun gun, trying to get it out of his hands. I got halfway there before he slapped my hand away and hit me again. The pain returned like running into a wall at full speed. I clenched my jaw and tried to ride it out. If I could make it to the end, I’d have another chance to wrestle it away from him. After that, I could ram it down his throat and make him squeal before I gutted him like a fish.

  The pain stopped abruptly. I had just enough time to think about grabbing the thing before Alastair was jabbing a needle into my neck. I’d like to say I barely felt the prick, but he wasn’t exactly gentle with the needle. He pushed the plunger quickly and pulled the needle out. I tried to sit up.

  I should have known by the fact that he didn’t even attempt to hit me with the electricity again that he’d pumped me full of something meant to keep me off my feet.

  It didn’t matter though. As the warmth spread from my neck and into my chest, I managed to roll over onto my right side. I had a distant thought that I should reach for my gun, but my shoulder rig seemed so far away.

  “Tomorrow shall be the dawn of a new era,” Alastair said.

  His voice sounded so far away. Somewhere in the distance, I heard the sound of a door sliding open. Something about a van. It was hard to remember. It was hard to do anything actually. The only thing I could see was the darkness creeping in from the edges of my vision.

  I was having a really shitty week.

  27

  I woke up groggy, tasting dirt. I shivered as a chill caught hold of my body. The world around me came into a slow focus, lit by a mixture of halogen work lamps, flickering torches, and sporadic fire pits. I struggled to get up, pulling my knees to my chest and feeling the burst of pain in my lower back as I moved. I reached my hand across my back, probing delicately. I found a hole, blood was flowing freely, and my hand came back covered.

  I grunted and moved to wipe my hand on my pants. I felt cold skin and looked down to find myself bare ass naked. A wave of creeping goosebumps washed down my body. I was losing blood, and the temperature was dropping. It was a gamble of what would kill me first, exposure or the drop in blood pressure.

  "'e's awake."

  I recognized Maccus's heavy accent. The mick bastard was a ball of shadow, standing in front of a halogen lamp.

  Gritting my teeth to keep them from chattering, I pushed myself up from the dirt and stood to face him. Naked or not, I wasn't going to meet my fate on my knees. I took a halting step toward him. My right foot stopped mid-step. I looked down, confused and saw that there was a metal shackle around my ankle. I followed the chain back to a heavy stake, hammered into the frozen dirt. It was about that time that I also noticed where I was standing.

  Snow had been cleared all around me, and a circle had been carved into the red dirt. It must have been twelve feet across, and the stake I was chained to had been drilled into the center of it. Another shivered rocked my body. I was in the company of a Vampire, the Necromancer that had stabbed me in the back had to be nearby, and I was in the middle of a huge circle. Nothing good happens in circles when there's a Necromancer around.

  "Ah lovely, and I see he still has some strength left. Wonderful."

  I looked to my left and saw Alastair sitting by a small fire. I hadn’t noticed him before, cloaked in the shadows. He closed a book and stood from the metal folding chair, leaving the book behind. He walked up to the edge of the circle. He had ditched his preacher gear and traded it in for black slacks and a charcoal grey overcoat that looked pricey. He must have been one for some traditions because he was also wearing a bone necklace that draped down from around his neck. What I assumed was a goat skull bounced off of his stomach as he walked. It's always a goat or ram’s skull.

  "Just kill me and get it over with," I said, trying to put as much defiance in my voice as I could muster. “I’d have put a bullet in you already if I’d had the chance.”

  "No need to be hasty Mr. Cain. You are almost as impatient for your death as the Lord of Hate."

  My stomach dropped.

  Alastair turned his head. “Mr. Dunn, would you inform the others we are ready."

  Maccus nodded and disappeared into the darkness.

  "What do you want with me, Al?" I asked.

  He walked around the circle, the shadows dancing across his dark face. "I told you from the beginning, Mr. Cain, I want to understand the Rifts. I really have spent some time studying them, doing what I can to predict where they will appear."

  "Yea, and you figured that out did you?"

  "You’ve no idea." He said, smiling. His teeth seemed to gleam in the firelight.

  I caug
ht movement in my peripheral. Maccus was coming back, and he wasn't alone. I recognized Veronica Owens as she walked through a patch of flickering firelight. Mrs. Owens was there too, and I recognized the older guy from the family photos as her husband. They surrounded the circle, stopping at the edge and spreading out. There were two other women I didn't recognize, presumably more Vampires. The last one, I did.

  Cat walked up and stood next to Al. She had ditched her pantsuit and traded it in for pitch black robes and a skull necklace of her own. Apparently, she was a fan of the classics, even if they were cliche. The skull on her necklace looked suspiciously like it had come from a small child. I felt a sudden flare of anger seeing her.

  Al must have seen me looking at her. "Yes, young Catalina has seen the light, or should I say the darkness. That pathetic organization sent her to spy on us. It didn't take long to show her the truth. They were blind to it, holding her back. She's told me of their every move for months now."

  It suddenly made sense why White had had such a hard time tracking Alastair down. Cat had been tipping him off.

  She had sold me out, and now I was out in the cold, naked, and bleeding to death. To think, I’d spent time looking at her ass. Damn it all to Hell. Women are worse than Demons and Angels.

  Cat pulled out a nasty looking blade, wavy like a snake and double-edged. The light was dim, but I knew the drill. The blade was black stone, probably obsidian or some other volcanic rock, and the handle had the ivory color of bone. I'd have put money on it being human, possibly a femur.

  Setting my feet, I raised my hands. Half dead wasn't dead. They weren't going to take me without a fight. “Well, come get some,” I said, gesturing with my fingers.

  Alastair looked me up and down, a broad smile breaking out as he did. "Will you look at that." He turned to the group. "If ever there was a man who would not go gently into that good night. No, our good Mr. Cain will rage, rage against the dying of the light."