The Balance Omnibus

by Alan Baxter

  ‘What more can I do?’ Isiah yelled, locked in mortal combat.

  He felt an enormous wave of RealmShift. What the hell? He saw Satan notice it too and for a fraction of a second they both paused, realising that neither of them were responsible for it. With a blinding flash and a peal of shuddering thunder two huge figures appeared among the wavering trees. Isiah and Satan both stepped back, momentarily forgetting their own fight as the figures emerged. One was a massive coiling serpent with a vicious beak and feathers like some nightmarish bird of paradise. The other was a hugely muscled, vaguely human creature, with panther-like face and arms, yet his body still bore serpentine characteristics, hints of wings flapping in and out of perception. His appearance shifted and phased, never settling. The moment they had appeared they both roared their rage and came barrelling straight for Satan. The Devil let out a cry of surprise as he met their onslaught with a shuddering crash.

  ‘How dare you desecrate this place with your manifestation,’ the panther-like god roared. ‘Would you soil one of your Christian god’s churches by fighting in it?’

  The Devil yelled in anger and pain as blows were rained upon him, vicious claw and beak attacks rending his flesh. He began to fight back, his own talons ripping through scale and hide as serpent coils began to encircle him.

  Isiah stood back, gasping for breath, stunned by the turn of events but grateful for the reprieve. He recognised the creatures. Quetzalcoatl, the feathered serpent god of the Mayans, and Zamna, the warrior-like chief god of the ancient indigenous people of this land.

  ‘Leave me be and I’ll be gone,’ Satan cried. ‘Just let me take what’s mine and leave.’

  The two ancient gods ignored the Devil’s pleas and continued beating, biting, clawing. Satan swung his massive arms about him, hammering huge blows down onto both of them, struggling against the coils that were crushing him.

  Isiah sent a searching thought out to see how Samuel was doing but could sense nothing past the huge interference that was being generated by the titanic battle before him. Before he could decide what to do the voice of the Balance boomed in his head.

  A POWERFUL LOCAL SHAMAN HAS SUMMONED ZAMNA AND QUETZALCOATL. THEY SHOULD NOT BE HERE, ISIAH. YOU MUST NOT LET THEM FIGHT.

  Isiah stared at Satan ripping a huge lump of flesh from Zamna’s massive arm. ‘What?’ he yelled. ‘You want me to break up that?’

  The Balance sounded impatient. ISIAH, DO NOT LET THEM FIGHT.

  Isiah shook his head. ‘Fuck, what a mess.’ With a deep breath, he leapt into the fray, grabbing Quetzalcoatl around his massive, scaled neck, dragging him away from Satan. ‘Come on, children,’ he yelled. ‘Play nice!’

  Despite his efforts and pain, Satan laughed. ‘Now you help me, Interferer? What kind of lunatic are you?’ He slammed one massive black fist, now free of Quetzalcoatl’s coils, into Zamna’s face, driving the panther-god backwards. Before he could follow up on his attack, Isiah leapt forward, using the serpent like a vault-horse, and hammered a kick into Satan’s face, sending him stumbling backwards, away from Zamna.

  ‘No,’ Isiah said, laughing aloud from an enormous adrenaline rush. ‘I just want to fight everybody!’

  Samuel was crying as he ran, his legs tripping and stumbling but carrying him on in blind panic. The pyramid had looked closer than this, for God’s sake, where the hell was it? He was beginning to think that he had missed it, running foolishly in the wrong direction, getting lost in the undergrowth. Then he saw it again between the trees, closer now yet still not close enough. The roars and cries of battle were behind him, but still not far enough. He felt like he was trying to run in a nightmare, when stairs turn to quicksand and corridors are never ending. Steeling his mind against utter panic he stumbled on, staring intently ahead at the dark peak of the pyramid.

  Father Paleros cried out in terror, skidding to a halt on the leaf litter as a silhouette rose before him. He saw the shape of a man and the glint of steel and expected to see dark leathery wings. A part of his mind did see those wings a fraction of a second before he registered the leering, grinning face beneath the sweat soaked black hair. Paleros’ knees became jelly and his stomach turned to ice. He felt warm urine flood down his leg but it felt strangely like someone else’s experience. ‘Villalopez?’ he whispered in a cracked, trembling voice. ‘I don’t understand...’

  Carlos grinned, stepping towards the terrified priest. ‘I am beyond caring about what the fuck is happening around me, you god-loving slug, but I’m here to kill you!’

  ‘Kill me? But why? Why are you the black angel sent for me? I tried to help you!’

  Carlos leaned back his head and laughed. ‘You tried to help me? You spent weeks torturing me with your bullshit and your holy doctrine. I am going to kill you for that, right here, right now!’

  Paleros could not move, his whole body trembling, threatening to collapse beneath him. His mouth worked silently, trying to find words stolen by terror. Suddenly there was the voice of a woman behind him, distant, surreal. ‘Father Paleros, where are you?’

  Villalopez stepped sideways, darting through bushes, then returned as if he hadn’t been away. There was a scream as he dragged Katherine Bailey with him, thrashing in his grip. ‘What the fuck are you doing,’ she yelled, her face a mix of terror and belligerence. As she saw his face she screamed again, shrill and piercing. ‘It’s you!’ Her eyes were wide and bright. ‘I saw you,’ she stammered. ‘I saw you...’

  Carlos spun her around, locking her back to his chest, one arm around her throat. Katherine clawed at his arm, coughing and screaming. Paleros stood stunned, frozen with fear, as Carlos pointed the knife at him. Over the noise of the wind Carlos shouted, ‘I’m going to make you watch as I slit this whore’s pretty throat, priest bastard, then I’m going to kill you too!’

  Carlos pressed the vicious blade against Katherine’s throat, the silver edge gaining a red bead as it bit into the soft flesh. Katherine’s eyes bulged and she became limp as a rag doll, hanging in Carlos’ grip, terrified. ‘Why are you going to kill us? What the fuck are you?’

  Carlos leaned close to her ear, his stinking breath warm and foul. ‘I am going to kill Paleros because I owe him death, you squeaking bitch. I am going to kill you because you’re here and I love to kill.’

  Katherine was crying, cold steel burning her throat. Paleros stood transfixed, trembling violently. ‘But I’ve seen you in visions,’ Katherine sobbed. ‘I’ve seen you and knew you were coming to kill me, but it can’t really be true, it can’t be!’

  ‘Oh, it’s true, bitch. Make the most of the next few seconds, as that’s all you have before the blackness of death swallows you!’

  Carlos pressed the blade harder against Katherine’s neck. He laughed, twisted, maniacal. He squeezed Katherine against himself, pressing hard across her chest. As colours swam before her eyes, as steel bit deeper into the soft flesh of her throat, she became dimly aware of the hardness of this madman, pressing into her back. Disgusted, she tried to twist away, terror and nausea tearing her caution away. Carlos laughed again, bucking against her, forcing her to feel him. ‘I’m going to make the most of you as you die!’ he said, his breath hissing into her ear over the noises of the surrounding jungle.

  Father Paleros began gibbering, trying to form coherent words. Still rooted to the spot he reached towards Katherine, mumbling, his eyes desperate. Again Carlos laughed, high and crazed. Pulling Katherine back against himself harder than ever he raised his elbow. Katherine screamed, thrashing, gripped in sheer panic. ‘I don’t want to die! I don’t want to die!’ Her sobs and screams were like those of a child.

  Paleros finally managed to articulate one word. ‘No!’

  Then a voice cut through the wind and noise like a light in a pitch dark room. ‘Let her go!’

  His face twisted in furious annoyance, Carlos looked around as Drake stepped from the undergrowth. ‘I don’t have time for all this!’ he cried. ‘I thought you’d got lost in the trees.’ Without war
ning his arm flashed out and he plunged the long, shining knife deep into Thomas Drake’s stomach. Katherine screamed, biting Carlos’ arm as hard as she could. With a grunt of pain Carlos pulled his arm away and Katherine dropped to her knees. As she scrambled to her feet Thomas grabbed Carlos’ other arm and drew the knife from his stomach. Katherine stared, dumbfounded. She could see no blood. Thomas hadn’t even flinched. With a mighty shove Thomas pushed Carlos over backwards. Before he could recover Thomas pulled Katherine up with one hand, grabbed Paleros’ arm with the other. Paleros was still stunned, paralysed with confusion and fear, but he let Thomas drag him along. ‘Come on,’ Thomas yelled. ‘We have to get away from him.’

  ‘He’s right behind us!’ Katherine shrieked.

  Carlos was furious as he regained his footing. What was with that old man? How strong must he be to survive a gut stab like that? It hadn’t even made him blink! With a roar of anger, caution irrelevant now, he dived through the trees after the priest and his friends.

  Thomas pulled Katherine and Paleros along. ‘It’s all right,’ he yelled. ‘Just come on.’

  Katherine looked back, seeing the leaves flapping violently, partly due to the unholy storm around them, partly due to the maniac with the knife running towards them. ‘He’s catching us!’ she screamed, stumbling and tripping as Thomas held her upright.

  ‘Come on,’ Thomas cried, ‘just keep moving.’

  ‘But aren’t you hurt?’ Katherine asked. ‘Aren’t you wounded?’

  ‘No, no, he missed,’ Thomas said. ‘It was close, but he just cut my clothes.’

  Katherine shook her head as they ran, No he stabbed you! her brain screamed. I saw it, I saw him stab you deep in the belly. But conversation was too hard so they just ran.

  Samuel ran on, stumbling and whimpering, tears of pure terror in his eyes. His mind was racing round and round in circles, What the fuck is going on? What the fuck is going on? A figure rose from the undergrowth in front of him, turned as it heard Samuel coming. He saw stark eyes, broad shoulders and cold steel as the figure held out a broad, vicious-looking knife. Samuel let out a sob of disbelief. What now? The man’s face registered surprise as he realised that Samuel had no intention of stopping. With a grunt of pain and surprise they both crashed down as Samuel ran straight into Carlos like a steam train.

  Carlos managed to keep hold of his knife, but was suddenly concerned by this wild eyed, black skinned lunatic that had come pounding through the forest like he was being chased by the Devil himself.

  As they rolled over in the undergrowth Carlos twisted and bucked and managed to roll on top of Samuel. Rising to his knees he lifted the knife high. He had no idea who this person was or why he was here, but it was obvious to him that the man was crazy and the priest and his bitch were getting away.

  Samuel came to a stop on his back with the evil faced man in combats kneeling over him. He saw the arm with the knife rise and come plummeting down. Samuel shot his own arm up and caught Carlos’ forearm, gripping with the strength of terror. Carlos’ arm stopped with jarring force. Carlos grabbed for the knife with his left hand, but amazingly Samuel was quicker, catching Carlos’ left arm in a fashion similar to his right. For several seconds they stayed that way, locked in a silent double arm wrestle, as sharp, hot winds gusted around them. Flashes of eerie light, accompanied by roars and wails, lit the leaves behind them. Samuel’s terror gave him strength he had no idea he could command, but this vicious stranger was strong also. With gritted teeth and faces twisted by the effort they remained in a test of power and endurance. Who the hell are you? thought Samuel as his muscles began to spasm with the effort. His mind was racing. I have to get to that skull!

  The battle behind him was increasing in intensity, flashes, roars, screams of anger and pain. He could see Carlos’ fear and confusion at the hectic maelstrom going on behind him. Remembering Isiah’s words, You can do anything, he gathered his will, trying to create one of those powerful bolts of energy that Isiah threw around. It wouldn’t come, but he could feel its charge in his muscles, giving him strength.

  With that and the strength of desperation he bucked his back, driving one knee upwards into Carlos’ side. The reaction was more than he could have hoped for as Carlos’ face twisted in agony, the blow like knives in his already injured ribs.

  Samuel took his moment and turned, rolling free of Carlos. With an unbelievable effort Carlos managed to control his pain and swing the massive knife at Samuel’s face. Samuel swung up one arm, blocking the incoming knife, and powered out a punch with his other arm. He was rewarded with a satisfying crunch from Carlos’ nose. Ignoring the pain, Carlos drove his knee upwards into Samuel’s stomach. With an explosive rush of breath, Samuel collapsed forward, but with desperate strength he pulled Carlos down with him once more.

  Carlos was amazed, stunned at the sheer determination of this man. ‘You fight like you have the Devil inside you!’ he yelled as he fell beneath Samuel’s weight.

  Once more they were on the ground, locked in a wrestle, both trembling from pain and fatigue. Samuel was amazed to realise that this time he was on top of Carlos. ‘Actually, I have the Devil right behind me,’ Samuel gasped, staring into Carlos’ eyes. ‘Just let me go will you?’

  Carlos looked into Samuel’s eyes, his face concerned. ‘What?’ he stammered. For some reason, when Samuel had said that the Devil was right behind him, something in his eyes had made it seem like he told the truth.

  Samuel laughed, delirious with the bizarre state of events. ‘I’m in the middle of the fucking jungle, battling with some mercenary lunatic while some superman I only met a couple of days ago fights with Satan himself to give me time.’ Samuel slammed his fist down into Carlos’ face as he rocked back, laughing like a madman.

  Carlos took the blow, spitting out blood. ‘What?’ he said again. ‘You are truly mad, there is no Devil, no god, only man!’ His words didn’t sound certain, even to himself.

  Samuel laughed again. ‘What the fuck would you know, jungle boy?’ He stared directly into Carlos’ eyes and felt an immense power build up in him. ‘The Devil is a mean motherfucker who just loves evil souls like you.’ With the power of his mind, swelling now like never before, he slammed Carlos’ left arm out to the side, pinning it down with thought alone. Carlos’ eyes were wild as he struggled to bring his arm up again. Samuel remembered Isiah’s words about belief, about people creating their own afterlives. He let his newly expanded mind swell, thinking of Isiah and his brainwashing techniques. ‘You believe in Satan, don’t you?’ He slammed Carlos’ other arm down with his mind, held him fixed like a crucifixion.

  Carlos shook his head. ‘No. No there is nothing but man. And great men like me are the nearest thing to gods and devils!’

  Samuel could see the internal battle in Carlos’ eyes, he could see a lifetime of belief in nothing but human ability beginning to tear at the seams as he displayed magical powers to this unbeliever. He let his mind push into Carlos’ and could feel, literally feel like a physical thing, Carlos’ terror, confusion, disbelief. ‘Oh, you should believe,’ he crowed. ‘You do believe, don’t you?’ He pumped images of Satan into Carlos’ mind, images of his recent flight from Isiah’s side as the battle began. He watched Carlos’ eyes grow wild, madness flooding in. He could read Carlos’ thoughts like a book, his new found abilities growing and expanding exponentially. He laughed at what he saw, taken away by the rush of this power. ‘You were going to kill a priest?’ he cried. With his mind power he threw mental punches at Carlos, smashing into his arms, chest, face, cracking bone and cartilage with nothing but the power of his will. Carlos began to gibber, tears started flowing down his cheeks as he thrashed under Samuel’s physical and mental weight. ‘Oh, the Devil will love that. You know, I killed a priest. In a church!’ Samuel laughed maniacally, hammering another punch into Carlos’ bloody face. ‘Do you like that? I’m going to kill you now, you greasy bastard, and I know you’ll go straight to Hell. You know it too now, don’t y
ou!’

  Carlos screamed, for the first time in his life he was truly terrified. His mind was flooded with fear as his beliefs came crashing down. He had been so convinced that nothing supernatural could possibly exist, but now this terrible man sat upon him. The bastard had beaten him in a fight, held him down with invisible bonds, could read his thoughts as if he spoke out loud. This son of a bitch must be the Devil himself! After all this time, as he died he was looking into the eyes of things he had never before believed.

  Samuel whipped his arm across Carlos and grabbed the huge knife from where it lay forgotten on the fallen leaves. In the same motion he brought it singing back across Carlos’ exposed, pulsing throat. ‘I would say “see you in Hell” you bastard,’ Samuel laughed, ‘but I have other plans!’

  As a fountain of blood erupted from Carlos, Samuel leapt up and staggered on towards the pyramid, laughing madly, his mind nearly snapped. Carlos screamed silently as his lifeblood flooded away and he saw before him the expanse of Hell begin to open up.

  Isiah was beginning to black out, the pain and exertion becoming too much. Preventing the huge melee between the three gods was like trying to hold apart a raging storm. Blows rained from every direction, teeth, claws, beaks, fists, massive pulses of pure, burning energy. Then he heard the voice of the Balance.

  IT IS DONE, ISIAH. CARLOS VILLALOPEZ IS DEAD.

  With one last burst of strength, born of relief, Isiah raised both his arms, taking Zamna and Quetzalcoatl about their throats, and strode forward, driving them back from the Devil. ‘Go, Satan,’ he cried. ‘Take Samuel and go back to Hell.’

  Satan let out a thunderous laugh, convinced of his own triumph. ‘It seems I’ve gained another soul thanks to Harrigan, while we fought. I can’t imagine what you’ve gained from this, Interferer,’ he yelled and vanished with a coppery burst of energy.

  Isiah pushed the two Mayan gods away from him. ‘I’m sorry this had to happen in your place,’ he shouted above the swiftly dying wind. ‘Please, go now. Satan will take the human and leave. Your people and your holy land won’t be infected by his presence any longer.’