Minutes to Midnight

by Phaedra Weldon

  My knees were shaking as he shoved me forward a bit, his hand still wrapped around the chain at my neck. Muscles ached. I just wanted to lay down and not walk. I'd tried twice to burn the sucker, but even though the spell came to me, and I said the word, no fire ignited. I tried several different spells.

  Nothing.

  "The Queen's already warded the iron against you, Guardian. Nice try."

  The place was huge and reminded me of a palace. A big, black, dark, evil, villain palace, but still…a palace. Arched doorways, gold handles on black doors, and knights in opaque black armor who stood at attention against the walls every few yards as we walked down the corridor. I wondered if Mike, Raven and Stella were in this place, maybe locked in a room or a dungeon. As we neared a double set of big, gold, ornate doors at the end of the hall, my heart thundered in my chest and the only thing I could hear was the roar of blood in my ears.

  I didn't see the two black knights flanking the doors until they moved to open them. A cool breeze brushed against my cheek and fluttered the hair on my forehead as I took a look inside.

  It was empty, except for Mike and Raven. The two hung by their wrists from heavy chains fastened to the ceiling. I guessed there was about an inch between their feet and the floor, just enough for their weight to pull painfully on their shoulders.

  "Darren?" Raven said. Her voice quivered and she moved a little. Revenant or not, the demon inside of her was still married to the physical body. If Diane hurt, then Nyx hurt as well.

  "What the hell are you doing?" Mike tried jerking at his chains and managed to bounce a bit. I figured that had to hurt. "Why didn't you stay in the car? Now you've gone and got yourself captured."

  "Oh like you and super bad over there did so good on your own?" I turned to look up at Rippin' Jack. The monochromatic light of this place actually made him look a lot better. "Where's Stella?"

  He laughed and yanked on the chain, tugging me into the empty room. Other than the Raven and Mike hanging decorations, there wasn't a stick of furniture visible anywhere in the room. Nothing like the hallway we just paraded down. The walls were all smooth obsidian-black like the floor. The only light came from a single glowing ball about twenty feet in the air. It looked just like the one I make, only bigger.

  As we neared the room's center a post became visible. It was about waist high, made of the same dark material as everything else except the huge gold ring on the top. My heart dropped into my boots when Rippin' Jack locked the chain from my collar to the gold ring. "Delivered."

  "To whom?" I said and my voice echoed across the walls. The glowing sun was directly above me. "Whom are you delivering me to?"

  "I'm afraid that's not for me to tell. But now with this hire completed, all I have to do is finish your hire and then I'll be free. And I can't wait to get back into the Material World again. It's been soooo long since I held a warrior's sword in my hand. Ah, but today it's not a sword, is it? It's a gun. All kinds of guns. Your friend Mike, he has a lot of guns, doesn't he?" He smiled, or rather, tried to with what was left of his lips. I could see his rotting gums and yellowed teeth quite nicely. "Tough guy look, lots of weapons, and money. I can have women again. Lots of women."

  Letting a Djin into the Material World wasn't the ideal end to this. And me being chained to a post in a castle made of stone wasn't how I'd planned on this going—oh, this was just not my day. "You have to complete my hire, Rippin' Jack. That means freeing Mike, Raven and Stella from the Peripheral."

  He took a dramatic step back and gestured to me with a Vanna White flourish. "As you can see, I am good at what I do." He looked at me. "I see you thinking, Guardian. Still wondering who wanted you like this. What I can tell you, before I leave you, is that my employer wants you in isolation. What you carry inside of you is a danger to everything. A danger to life's existence. I for one, as a Djin, could care less how much power you have. My purpose is to serve, and when I'm not serving someone or something else, I serve myself. I want to experience the physical again, and so it's in my best interest you're kept away from the other Worlds. Alone."

  The tall, rotting Lamia snapped his fingers. Raven and Mike fell on their knees with solid thuds. The chains, gone.

  Abruptly, Rippin' Jack stopped in his tracks. He grabbed hold of his neck, made a lot of gross gurgling sounds, then dropped to the floor with a thud. What happened? Had the body finally collapsed? I didn't see how that was possible. The Ghoul blood and all. Re-animation.

  A black, silky smoke oozed out around him. It rolled on the floor like dry ice and then folded away from me, swirling until it created a tall column of smoke. That smoke moved into the shape of a man, but it never fully formed, looking more like a black version of a very famous gold trophy.

  Then, to my horror, the smoke dove at Mike and engulfed him.

  "No!" My scream echoed off the walls and burned my throat.

  Raven cried out as well but she was having trouble righting herself. I had no idea how long the two of them had hung like chandeliers. I would guess her shoulders and arms were too sore to move.

  The smoke disappeared but Mike's body snapped into a fetal curl. He screamed and I tried to go to him. I yelled as many spells as the book would give me, all of them focused on the Djin inside of him.

  Nothing worked.

  "Fight him…" Raven said as she tried to crawl to him. "Don't let him win."

  Abruptly Mike sat up and stared at the floor between his bent knees. His head twitched to the right, then the left, as if he were trying to remove a creak in his neck. Then he looked at me…and smiled.

  His eyes were yellow. Gold. Inhuman.

  "Oh yes…" Mike said as he jumped up to his feet. He did a few jumping jacks, then a few quick pushups. "Oh yes! This is what I was looking for. Just the body to do a bit of cruising around in."

  "No…." I pulled at the manacles keeping my hands behind me. I tried calling the sword but nothing happened. I couldn't use a spell. I was helpless. "Damn you Ripp'n Jack… let him go!"

  The Djin crossed the space between us and hit me with a right cross. I spun with the impact and dropped to the ground. Stars filled my world for a few seconds before I could hear or see. I tasted blood, smelled blood. I teetered on the edge of conscious and unconscious oblivion.

  "Darren!" Raven's voice cut through the fog. "Don't give up. Please."

  I lay on my side, watching as the Djin grabbed Raven and pulled her to her feet. He half carried her to the door and paused to look at me. "I'll fulfill my bargain. I'm good at my word. Mike and Raven will come out of that Cairn healthy and they'll stay that way."

  I pushed myself up and tried to form words. Blood trickled from my nose over my lip and into my mouth. I spat it out on the floor. "…Stella…."

  "Oh right. Her. Look, after the first fail, I let her go. She's not here. In fact, I'm not sure where she is. So, since she wasn't here when you made the deal, she's not part of it. Enjoy your solitude."

  "No!" Raven tried to grab at the door as it slid closed.

  And then I was alone with a rotting body.

  It took a bit of time for me to stand. My head, my jaw, my nose…it all hurt. My ears rang as well. I'd always wondered what it was like to be on the receiving end of one of Mike's strikes. Curiosity…satisfied.

  When I could walk without falling down, I tested the perimeter of my chain, shuffling around. In all directions I was kept three feet from the walls. I noticed the door he'd brought me through was gone as well. It'd either vanished or it was somehow hidden on this side. Not decorated in gold.

  When I finished my walk around the pole—it took longer than usual because the ankle chain was seriously shortening my stride—I stared idly at the zombie body. At first I didn't see the danger.

  Then it twitched.

  It wasn't going to just rot; the thing was a zombie with Ghoul blood animating it….

  And I was caged, fresh meat.

  Oh…shit…

  TWO GO iN, ONE COME OUT


  Panic.

  I tried calling the sword…and to my surprise, it appeared.

  And promptly sliced the palm of my left hand.

  I screamed with the pain and the sword vanished as I pitched forward on my knees, lost my balance and fell over on my side. Blood streamed from the cut and smeared the black stone beneath me as I tried to push away from it. Fresh blood in this enclosed room was like chum in the water for a blood-drinking, Ghoul-reanimating zombie. Dammit! The sword came but angled to the position of my hand. I was lucky I wasn't scratching my ass when it appeared or it could have gone much worse.

  Yeah… Maybe not.

  On my side, I realized my best chance at calling the sword again would be if I got my arms in front of me. I'd seen in movies where the hero or the captive moved their hands from behind by pulling their legs through their bound arms.

  That was easier to visualize than describe. Either way, I didn't have much time to lay there and wonder if I could do it. I had to. And I had to ignore the throbbing pain in my hand and nose.

  The zombie started moving again. It was a jerky movement, not like the fluid ease Rippin' Jack moved with. I assumed the Djin was more powerful than the blood so it animated the body better. Without the Djin's power, the body had to work through rotted joints, bones, and oozing skin to move. That assumption might buy me a little time. Because if I didn't get my hands in front, I would be Lamia food for sure.

  First I put distance between myself and the zombie, scooting to the end of my chain in the opposite direction. I also inadvertently mopped the floor with my blood, smearing it on my jeans. Great. I'd just made a bread-crumb trail right to me.

  I'd read about people doing this in handcuffs, and cuffs had a much shorter chain than the manacles binding my wrists. I bent my legs back, bowing my torso out as I grasped the tops of my boots and then my ankles. I had to maneuver the manacles and chains over the toe. It took a lot to do that. I was limited to the length of my arms plus how tightly I could bend my legs and push them against my back end. Once I worked the chain to a place over my ankles, I chanced a glance over at Rotting Boy—

  Shit!

  It was crawling to me, its clouded eyes focused in my direction. And it was less than two feet from the post. Apparently its legs weren't working, so it was dragging itself across the floor with its hands and elbows.

  Time to work faster.

  My shoulders burned in agony as I bent forward, legs folded, and worked the chain along my shins. This would be easier if my ankles were chained close together. Then I could shove one leg through, then the other.

  This was like a torturous game of…well, there wasn't anything I could compare it to. And it was taking too long. By the time I managed the chain to just below my knees, Zombie Boy was just past the post. If it got to me now, there was nothing I could do. My knees were bent and locked with my arms around them, wrists chained really…really tight. Blood covered everything—my hands, my jeans, the floor, the chains…

  I just had to get the chain worked another inch or two and I'd be able to straighten my legs, thus sliding my arms in front.

  But, see, I have the worst luck. It always worked against me. You know those smiling, happy waving cats you see in Asian junk shops? The kind they call the Lucky Cat? I had one cut me once when I picked it up. Got an infection.

  Go figure.

  So I wasn't too surprised, but I was disappointed, when I was just short of getting the chain over my knees and the thing yanked hard on the chain tethering me to the post. I gasped as the collar choked me. My shirt and jeans made it easy for me to slide back to the post. I looked at Zombie Boy, and from what I could tell, he'd grabbed the chain to pull himself to me. Oh, how happy he must have felt when he realized he could pull me to him!

  I figured one more yank and I'd be right up against him. I pulled and pushed my shoulders to the left and right, trying to work that chain over my knees. If I could just straighten my legs, I could roll the chain over. I pulled at the chain and yelled.

  That's when Zombie Boy yanked the neck chain again and I went sliding and rolling to him. Its cold, boney hand on my face stopped me, but I couldn't move my arms to push him away. I was helpless as it pulled me closer, caressing me with its bone-yard fingers. I was on my right side and it was basically mounting me, pulling up and on top of me. One of its hands pushed my face into the stone floor, and the other was pulling at the chain to bring me closer.

  "Aww…" It hissed as it yanked at the manacle around my neck. "You're wearing…protecschion…." The way it spoke was proof his mouth was rotting—er—had rotted. And it smelled….bad. I rolled back and forth, trying to pitch it off me. With its weight pressing me down I couldn't pull the chain further up my leg. The collar proved to be a burden and a boon as Zombie Boy tried to bite my neck and smashed its teeth on the metal. "Your blood…iz gooooood."

  Right—now it was all clear. The difference between a zombie and a Lamia. Zombies went after brains and Lamias wanted blood. Simple, right? But to kill either of them, I had to cut off its head.

  My right palm ached and burned. The sword wanted to come through because it knew I could easily decapitate the Lamia with the blade. But it also knew my legs were in the way. At the angle my hand rested, the blade would run through my right shin, through my right thigh, and possibly stick into my stomach. Unless I angled my hand differently.

  While Lamia Boy tried mercilessly to fight the metal around my neck, I tried to visualize where the sword would go if I moved my hand. I was pretty sure if it struck the stone, it would slice right through it. But I also didn't want a screwed-up version of Excalibur if it got stuck in the stone floor. I needed to get the Lamia off my neck and down to my legs.

  "Hey, you know…" My voice was muffled because most of my face was being pressed into the stone. "The femoral artery—"

  But the bastard was already thinking it, having bashed too many teeth on the collar, and it moved to my hips. "Yessss …."

  Truth was, in the position I was in, there was no way he could get to my femoral artery. But it did get him off my neck. I started to pull at my arms again when he released my face. Just a few more inches and I might make it.

  Then the bastard bit my left thigh.

  I was on my right side, my right hand against my shin just beneath my knee. The moment I felt his teeth lock down on my muscle, I screamed. The blade released whether I was ready for it or not. I felt a burning sensation in my left thigh, but the pain from the Lamia's teeth eased back. I heard choking noises as the pressure of its body on me lessoned. I looked up to see the flaming blade had traveled through my thigh and into Lamia Boy through the jaw and into its brain. More than seven inches of the tip of the blade stuck out of the top of its head. I also saw fresh blood on its lips and what looked like a piece of denim.

  My vision swam when I thought about where that blood and flesh came from. Shaking, I told the blade to disappear and it did. The Lamia Boy tipped over and away from me. After two ragged breaths, I pulled the chain forward and bent as far into a fetal position as I could. My blood along with a last thrust slid the chain and my arms over my knees and I tried to straightened my legs. I did it! I had my hands in front of me. Manacled, but workable. But as I tried to push myself into a sitting position, I slipped on the blood covering the stone floor. I also caught a glimpse of the raw and bloodied hole in my left thigh where that monster had taken a bite out of me just to the side of the long gash where the blade had cut through flesh and jeans.

  Son of a….

  That's when I really started shaking. I straightened my right leg—my left one just wasn't responding. I prayed to whatever World would have me that it hadn't hit the femoral artery anyway because there was a lot of blood. I was still chained to a post in a doorless room. In the Peripheral. I had to get out of there and get back home. I believed the Djin would do as he was hired and they would be in the Material World.

  Sliding a bit on the bloody stone, I used my chain to pull myself into
a standing position with my right hand. My left hand still throbbed from the slice across its palm. I was right next to the post, the Lamia's body a foot away from my feet. I held out my shaking right hand and the sword came. With a single stroke, I cut the chain in half. I then sort of sat against the post and hacked down at the chain between my ankles. The iron turned to dust. Then with a bit of difficulty, I managed to wedge the sword between my knees and slice through the chain between my wrists. Dust again.

  I reached up with the sword and touched it to the thick band around my neck.

  Dust.

  I was pretty sure if I wasn't bleeding I'd be feeling a lot better without the magical iron.

  Lamia Boy came back to life at that moment, and I'd sort of half expected it. I mean…given my lifelong argument with luck and Ghoul blood. When it pushed itself up on its hands, I swung the sword to my right and easily removed its head from its body. Lamia 0, Me 1.

  I looked own at my bleeding thigh, and hissed when I touched the skin around the bite. Make that Lamia 1, Me 1. And don't think the question as to whether I would become a Lamia myself wasn't already rolling around in my bruised brain. I just couldn't think about that right now. I stood and looked up at the sun. It did look like mine. In fact…I wondered if it was the same spell.

  I raised my hand to it. "Alka." The huge ball slowly descended toward me. "Batiltu." And it stopped where it was. Same spells. Sumerian. If the light was old magic, then maybe whatever was hiding the door was also…old magic. I figured, I could give it a try, or I could just blast my way through.

  After ripping the bottom half of my teeshirt off and wrapping it tightly around my thigh and a smaller part of it around my left hand, I used the post and the sword to balance myself when I stood. I kept the sword as a cane to walk. I limp-clacked my way to where the door had been and held up my damaged hand. "Gisig petu."

  Whatever illusion had concealed the doors broke the moment they opened. I moved to them as fast as I could and breathed a sigh of relief when I crossed the threshold. I recognized the hallway Rippin' Jack escorted me through, and a distance away I could see what looked like a mirror. But the closer I got to it, the more I realized it wasn't a mirror, but a hole hovering in midair.