A Shot in the Dark jjd-2

by K. A. Stewart

  In that frozen “oh shit!” split second, I saw the blond Mohawk, the glint of too much metal in his face, and I knew in some back corner of my brain that it was Axel. But that couldn’t stop my instinctive swerve, foot mashing hard on the brakes as the enormous truck pirouetted gracefully off the gravel road and into the ditch.

  I came to a stop with a jarring metal crunch, establishing first that I didn’t seem to be injured, and second that the truck was still running with no noticeable noises of impending death. The third thing that I established was that when I got out of the truck, I was going to kill Axel.

  18

  “J esus freakin’ Christ, Axel!” I hopped out of the truck, landing in ankle-deep, freezing muck, and slammed the door harder than I needed to in my frustration.

  The demon appeared at the front of the vehicle and grimaced. “Again, can we not bring him into this?”

  The left front fender was dented in, and I anxiously examined the truck for broken lights, happy when I found none. The fender damage was mostly cosmetic, and Marty could get it beat out in no time. That didn’t make the accident any better, really, but at least I hadn’t totaled someone else’s truck.

  “Have you ever heard of the phone? Or like… a singing telegram or something?” The demon actually looked a bit abashed when I turned my furious glare on him. “You could have gotten someone killed!”

  “I needed you to stop. There was no time for a polite request.”

  I clambered out of the ditch, my feet making a nice “ssssshluck!” noise with every soggy step. As best I could tell in the dark, the rest of the Suburban seemed all right. “What’s the freakin’ emergency, then?”

  “He’s after the boy.”

  That made me stop, which was no doubt his intent. “The Yeti?”

  The blond demon nodded. “At the hospital. If he touches the boy, it’s all over.”

  “He’s… in public? In full view of-” Axel was already nodding emphatically. “Why the hell would he do something crazy like that?”

  “Because he knows you. He knows you’ll do anything to protect that child.” Axel’s eyes glowed cherry red, beacons in the darkness. “He knows the only way for you to save the boy, from here, is to call him away. To call your challenge due.”

  “The guys are there. Are they all right?”

  Axel shrugged his lanky shoulders. “They were when I last saw them.” That wasn’t an answer. He’d been giving me a lot of nonanswers lately.

  “You could be lying.”

  “I could be. But think. Have I ever told you a lie? Even a little one?” He smirked and nodded toward the truck. “Try to call your friends. See if they’ll answer their telephones while they’re under attack.”

  I advanced on him and poked my finger into his chest, mostly to see if Mira’s protective spells would trip. They didn’t. Again. “You’ve been pushing me around like a damn pawn for the last week, for whatever agenda it is that you have, and I’m getting pretty tired of it.”

  He smiled at me, that slow sinister grin I was familiar with. This was an Axel I recognized. “Are you willing to let your friends die, the boy’s soul be ripped out, over a sense of moral outrage, Jesse?” He tsk ed softly at me and stepped away, putting distance between us as he moved down the gravel road. “There might be hope for you after all.”

  “Does the Yeti have his little pets with him, attacking the hospital right out in the open?”

  “Mmhmm. A few. He’s become very short on cannon fodder, thanks to you.” His boots crunched on the gravel, every step taking him farther and farther outside the reach of the truck’s headlights.

  “And if I call him away, those things will go apeshit again, like earlier.”

  “Mmhmm. But if you don’t call him away, little Zane will be one of them. I wonder if he’ll even realize when he’s ripped his own father’s throat out, eaten his tongue.”

  “If I call him away, I want something from you in return.”

  That made him pause, and he raised a pierced brow at me. “And what might that be?”

  “Help them.” The Yeti had rightful claim on my soul at the moment. I couldn’t offer that to Axel and he couldn’t ask. What was the worst that could happen? The demon pursed his lips thoughtfully, eyes narrowing as he looked me up and down. “C’mon, man. Whatever little spat you’re having with your own kind, you’ve already picked a side by helping us earlier. Help them again.”

  He made a great show of thinking it over, rocking his head from side to side, going through the hemming and hawing. Finally, he smirked. “All right. If you call your Yeti away, I’ll help them. But you will owe me a favor. Not your soul, I won’t even try that. But.. . something. Something I’ll ask for later.”

  “Fine.” Part of me expected that deal to burn itself black into my skin, like the Yeti’s brand, but nothing happened. Maybe these ephemeral “rules” covered only set contracts, not vague favors.

  “Decide quickly, Jesse. They don’t have much time.” He took two more steps backward, and the darkness swallowed him up. Sulfur wafted to me on the tiny breeze.

  What else could I do but throw my head back and yell “FUCK!” at the empty night sky? Then I kicked one of the tires for good measure, mud splattering everywhere.

  Well, I could try to get Cam-or anyone else for that matter-on the phone. Of course, every single number I tried went unanswered. It did occur to me at some point that Cole’s phone was one of those fancy ones that would let me look up things, so I found the number for the hospital in Fort Collins. And that one went unanswered too. I hung up when it hit fifteen rings.

  As much as I hated to believe that Axel might be telling the truth (and trust me, I knew he was doing it only for his own benefit), I couldn’t think of any reason for a hospital phone to go unanswered, unless major shit was going down.

  Sadly, I was in no shape to be fighting the Yeti. I had my sword in the truck, yes, but my armor was all the way back in Missouri. I threw open the back doors of the truck, pawing through what was left of my friends’ belongings. They’d taken their packs at the hospital, and with them they’d taken their paintball markers. No holy paint for me.

  As a last resort, I patted my pockets down, wishing futilely for any of my little antidemon gadgets and doohickeys. I discovered something hard and flat in one pocket, and investigation revealed it to be a quarter. It tingled against my fingertips.

  Great. One sword, and one holy quarter. This was my arsenal.

  Second concern was location. Fighting in the middle of a blacked-out gravel back road was probably not the best idea. Not to mention that our terms said it had to be in the mountains. Immediately, my eyes lit on the peak, looming large over me. I grinned. Perfect. This time of year, any campgrounds would be deserted, and hopefully the park rangers would be long gone home for the night. If I was lucky.

  With the judicious application of a crap load of gas and a colorful variety of curse words, the Suburban gave a lurch, a shudder, and then it was free of the muddy ditch, albeit quite a bit dirtier. I drove back toward the lights of the city until I found the first sign that pointed toward Pikes Peak, and I took that turn. Whaddya know, Marty’s truck will squall tires. Probably shouldn’t mention that to him.

  I’d never actually been to Pikes Peak before this, but I knew you had to buy passes in order to drive up the mountain. And where there are passes required, there are gates. And where there are gates after closing time, there are gate crashers. Guess what I was.

  I don’t know if there was supposed to be some kind of barrier across the drive or what, but there wasn’t. There was a light on in the little guard shack, but I didn’t see anyone sitting in it as I blew right past it. I did hope briefly that: one, no one tried to chase me up the mountain, and two, that I didn’t get anyone in trouble for not being at their post.

  According to the posted signs, it was at least an hour drive to reach the tippity top of the mountain. The guys didn’t have an hour. I’d have to make my stand somewher
e lower down, preferably somewhere I could find cover, use the terrain to my advantage.

  The road wound upward in sharp turns that seemed more about inconvenience than actual necessity. There were no guardrails on the serpentine highway, and I took the corners at unsafe speeds, straying dangerously close to the edge of the pavement. Each turn made my head swim, my damaged ears contributing a mild case of vertigo to all the other crap I had to deal with. The Suburban cornered like a brick, and my arms ached with fighting it, despite the power steering. No wonder the drive up took so freakin’ long.

  How long did I have? How much time had passed since Axel dropped his bombshell? Was I far enough up the mountain for it to count? Would Axel hold up his end of the bargain?

  The tall trees that lined the road hid the top of the peak from view, and I kept my eyes open for anywhere I could pull off the road. Big trees were good; they gave me something to put my back against. Not to mention that they’d help hide the truck in case the absent guard actually saw me speed through.

  When I spotted the roadside sign that jokingly indicated a Bigfoot crossing, I figured that was omen enough. Bigfoot, Yeti, same diff, right? I swerved the truck off the road, feeling the damp soil give under the heavy vehicle, and hoped vaguely that I’d be able to get the truck unstuck later. If I was alive to get it unstuck. I hopped out of the truck and didn’t even stop to strap my sword on, just carrying the scabbard in one hand.

  The trees there were mostly of the evergreen variety, their low-hanging boughs interlacing in places to provide an almost solid canopy. In the uppermost reaches, they were dusted with snow, fallen sometime during the day I guessed. For yards around, the only thing underfoot was dead pine needles, treacherously slippery to the unwary. That wasn’t going to work.

  The night was quiet as I jogged into the tall pines, lacking in the usual birds-and-bugs noises, but still within the range of “mundane and normal.” I was just starting to wonder where the wildlife had gone, when I remembered that my ears weren’t back to normal yet, hence the cone of silence effect. That was gonna suck quite a bit if the Yeti brought his little pets. I needed to be able to hear them coming. Last thing I needed was them dropping out of the trees onto my head.

  Accordingly, I found a small area with relatively few low tree branches. The needles crackled under foot, faintly, and I strained my hearing to see just how impaired I was. The burble of trickling water reached me, proving that I wasn’t entirely deaf, and I went to investigate.

  It was a small stream, small enough that it probably wasn’t even there all the time. A recent rain, or melting snow, or something, had given birth to the tiny trickle, no more than three feet wide and a couple of inches deep. The water ran swiftly, carrying needles and twigs with it, proof that the debris had existed here long before the creek.

  On impulse, I fished Cam’s holy quarter out of my pocket, eyeing it thoughtfully as I rolled it across the backs of my knuckles. Cam’s magic smelled like Mira’s, though I was willing to bet he’d argue that point with me. No matter the method-prayer versus spell casting-the effects had proven the same. And if his blessed coin was just like the magicked one she’d given me, so long ago… It had worked before. I just needed to get the big fur ball into the water.

  Kneeling, I quickly buried the coin in the middle of the tiny stream, pressing it into the soft mud to keep it from flitting off down the mountain. The water was cold enough that a thin skin of ice had started to form at the very edges. My fingers went numb, and I tucked them into my armpits to warm them, wishing more than ever that I’d brought a jacket on this little vacation. Add the freak cold snap to the high altitude, and it was going to be downright frigid on this peak tonight.

  How much time had passed? Fifteen minutes? Twenty? Thirty? My situation here wasn’t going to get any better, and my friends’ was only going to get worse.

  I found a relatively empty place, where the trees were smaller, some of them growing directly out of outcroppings of the mountain’s distinctive pink granite. Keeping the small stream at my back, I planted my feet and drew my sword. The scabbard I tossed away, honestly figuring I’d never be able to go look for it anyway. With both feet grounded against the solid mountain, my breath fogging the air before me, I opened my mouth to call the Yeti’s name.

  And choked.

  It’s not like I forgot his name. Trust me, those things get in your brain and live there like parasites, all coiled up and oozing ick. You don’t get to just forget the demonic names you hear. You can’t unknow, y’know?

  But the moment I tried to say it, my throat closed up, and bile rose, strong enough that I really thought I was going to gag to death on my own puke for a second. My vision got all spotty and dim, and the faint ringing in my ears became a loud clamor as my heart tried to escape out that way and go fleeing into the trees.

  I found myself on hands and knees on the forest floor, hacking up my sad little gas station cheeseburger. My throat burned with it, clear up into my sinuses. Oh that was not pleasant at all.

  “Why the fuck do people do this on purpose?” I muttered to nobody as I struggled to my feet again. The universe tipped and swayed a bit, then steadied, and I was pleased to find that I was indeed upright, and that I’d never dropped my katana.

  Properly forewarned and stomach empty now, I tried again. The name was there, at the tip of my bitter-tasting tongue. It was rage and jealousy, evil and venom, all rolled up into one garbled mash of consonants and vowels and razor wire and strychnine.

  I forced every single cursed syllable out around a tongue that refused to cooperate, and a throat that was doing its level best to strangle me for my effort. The moment it passed my lips, a pall of silence descended over the mountain. And I don’t mean “Jesse’s ears are all broke” kind of quiet. I mean quiet like the whole world stopped to hold its breath, the water stopped flowing, the plants stopped growing, the stars stopped moving. That kind of quiet.

  Goose bumps sprouted over my arms, my shoulders, and my stomach cramped painfully. Something bad was coming, and I’d invited it in, asked it to come have tea. I was gonna love him, and pet him, and call him George, right up until he ate my spleen.

  I kept my eyes focused on the ring of trees around me, barely breathing myself as I strained for that first sound, the one that would tell me where he was coming from.

  It turns out, that first sound was a chuckle somewhere behind me. I whirled and found the Yeti lounging quite comfortably on the far side of the tiny creek. He shook his horned head in amusement. “I knew you would call. You are predictably foolish.”

  “Yeah, and your mama dresses you funny.” Don’t look at the water. Don’t look at the water. All I needed was for him to charge me, to run through what I really, really hoped was now holy water. “Where are your little pets?” That was the loophole I’d left in the contract. If he was gonna screw me, this was the point.

  “I left two of them with your companions. They were hungry.” The white-furred behemoth stretched then, rising to his full height. Pine needles rained down on him where his horns jostled the lower branches. Christ, he was huge. “But this one… she longed for your presence.”

  Dammit, I fucking knew it. “What the hell does it take to kill you?”

  Handless emerged from the darkness behind the Yeti. Her left arm was gone at the shoulder, the bone a rather diseased gray color where it poked through. Putrid black fluid ran from the wound down her washboard ribs, and her right arm still ended in the jagged bony stump. Somehow, it didn’t make her look any less dangerous. She snarled at me in her silent way.

  This was not good. Even unarmed as she was, literally, I couldn’t fight the Yeti-plus-one. Any lapse of attention was going to get me eaten. “Afraid to take me on by yourself, Fuzzy?” Maybe I could get Handless into the stream too? Or maybe I could convince them both to sit down for a game of cutthroat pinochle instead. Seemed just as likely. Bet she’d have a helluva hand, har har har.

  “She will not interfere. Provided
that you play my game.”

  “What game?”

  “Any game I wish.” The beast smiled, muzzle wrinkling to reveal those gleaming fangs that had ripped into me almost every night for the last four years.

  I kept an eye on Handless, but she didn’t seem inclined to move, just crouching at the Yeti’s heel like a good little hound. “Then we’re just burning moonlight. C’mon, Fuzzy. Give it your best shot.” I had to hope that Cole and the others could hold their own against a few rabid zombies. There wasn’t anything I could do but deal with what was right here before me.

  “As you wish.” He dropped to all fours, rocking back and forth on his clawed feet and enormous knuckles for a moment. I swear, as big as he was, the mountain actually rocked with him. Or, it could have been a bit of dizziness from the damaged ears. Whichever.

  I settled into a ready stance, sword held low, and waited. C’mon. .. go for a little swim…

  The Yeti opened his muzzle and roared, the sound echoing off the peak, crashing through the night air. The sound slammed into me like a tidal wave, and my head reeled with vertigo. The night tilted at off angles, and the ground seemed to ripple beneath my feet.

  After what seemed like forever, the echoes died away and my brain corrected itself so that all down things were down and all up things were properly up. I blinked my eyes open in time to see him spring at me. Neatly up and over the goddamn stream.

  Well, shit.

  19

  T he Yeti crossed the distance between us in two giant leaps. The third one took him completely over my head. I dropped to one knee to avoid the claws, and his fur brushed across my face as he passed. It smelled of something musky and rank. A drunk goat swimming in a septic tank, maybe, with the distinctive undertones of sulfur and ozone. Futilely, I lashed out with my sword, trying to connect with anything solid, but the demon wasn’t intent on attacking me. In a crash of brush, he bounded into the trees on the opposite side of the clearing and vanished.