by Gregory Colt
“You won’t die,” he said, walking closer to me. “You won’t turn,” he kicked me in the side. “You’re nothing but bad product!” he hollered and kicked me again. “You!” And again. “Are going!” And again. “To fucking!” And again. “Die!”
I grabbed his last kick with both hands and pulled harder and faster than ever in my life. So hard his head hit the grated floor before the rest of him.
“Kill him!” the man gargled out a scream.
I sat up on my knees and slammed a double hammerfist into his face. His mandible broke beneath my fists. He convulsed, spitting bloody chunks out of his mouth. They were teeth.
The large man holding Ruby dropped her to face me. He was smart, deliberate in his actions. He lunged to one side, then another, testing my reaction. I mirrored him never breaking eye contact.
He was big, huge in fact, and that was before the Gray Night enhancements. My adrenaline had gone to a hundred five percent on the reactor and I still didn’t stand a chance of overpowering him. What I did have was years of experience. While my mind wasn’t a sterling example of sanity, especially after nearly being hijacked, most of its experiences were drilled into reflex.
I went with it. I moved with the distinctive, and often subtle, ebb and flow of the combat rhythm. But that was much too elegant a description.
His discipline faltered when I denied him the instant gratification of ripping his quarry to shreds. With a screeching bellow, he bull rushed, diving to spear me into the ground.
I was waiting. At the last second I performed a rare physical feat that had saved my life a hundred times before. I sidestepped. I over-hooked his extended arm, whipping it to the inside between us as I wrapped the slack in my chains around his throat. I used his momentum to pull around behind him.
I didn’t give him time to realize his mistake as I looped the other chain over his head and around his neck. I leapt into him, driving my knees into his back as I crossed my arms tight as I could, and pulled my entire body violently to the ground.
I felt each of my wrists slip a chain link or two as my improvised garrote crushed his throat, sending us both crashing to the floor.
I unraveled the chains and walked to the smaller man with the spider-webbed face, which I now noticed were stitches. I grabbed the key to my shackles, and undid my restraints.
I tried talking to Ruby, but the process seemed foreign and distant. I grabbed her by the shoulders and lifted her to her feet. She stood with a glazed look.
Screams and howls and gunfire from the floors above echoed through the ship. It had begun.
“Stay,” I managed to garble.
She nodded and I pulled the door partway closed behind me as I stepped into the hall. I ran, only guessing at the way I’d come because I couldn’t remember. The farther I went without seeing a stairway the more furious I became. The fight had sated the demon, but it wouldn’t last.
I used the gunfire above to guide me until I was somewhere beneath the main floor. I found the T-junction I’d chased ponytail down a minute later and there it was—the way out.
I thundered up the stairs four at a time, throwing open the door when I reached the top. I stumbled out into a scene I knew instantly I would never forget. And for me that’s saying something.
Slick streaks of red covered the expanse of metal grating, interrupted with debris and remains of the dead. Light erupted from different areas around the expanse as muzzle flashes fired from their dark corners. Two large soldiers were down in bloody heaps, but another four bounded in and out of the light to stalk and slaughter their prey.
I estimated maybe a half dozen people were left hidden and firing by the gun blasts. I went deeper into the room, still within the darkness, and looked at the railing above. It was empty except for a large chain wrapped around one of the rails from the balcony Vitale had given his introduction from.
I followed the chain down. Joe Vitale’s limp corpse hung from the end, dead, betrayed. Hadn’t someone in my cell said Vitale was in for a surprise? I hadn’t seen the man. I couldn’t piece it together.
“Adrian!” a voice yelled from the dark further down the wall from me.
One of the large soldiers heard and changed course to go after the source. I moved to intercept him. He ran across the middle of the room and I wasn’t going to get there in time—until bursts of automatic fire illuminated three men behind a barricade of steel beams and wooden tables. The hail of bullets tore into the soldier, slowing him enough to catch.
“Ceasefire!” Djimon screamed as I ran forward, leapt over the barricade, and tackled the soldier to the ground.
I held him down, but that wouldn’t last long. Argento wasted no time charging in right behind me. He fired three shots in rapid succession into the man’s head.
Warm blood sprayed in a fine mist as the crack of Argento’s weapon rang in my ears, but I didn’t slow down.
One of the others charged before we recovered. I let him come to me, feinted, and palm heel struck him in the throat, halting him where he stood. He grabbed his neck, gasping for air, and gurgled in rage as I brought a thundering sidekick down into his knee. He fell to the ground. I slid my hands tight into his hair and snapped my knee into his jaw at a terrible angle, wrenching the man’s head in horrific directions. Then I did it again, and again, until he stopped moving. Two down, two to go.
A woman screamed. I turned to the side and saw the green-cloaked woman from earlier. Brazilian, I believe. Her man was down—and missing his throat—while she clicked frantically at the trigger of her pistol several times before realizing it was empty.
Two bursts of automatic fire got its attention as Jack and Djimon moved around behind me and positioned themselves closer to her. They stepped into the light and kept the fire going. The soldier was wounded, perhaps mortally, but advanced on them nonetheless. I moved toward him when I saw the fourth soldier creeping in the shadows behind Argento who was braced for a shot near the green lady.
I spun around behind Argento as the fourth soldier charged in. I continued to spin, throwing off his point of attack, and slid forward as I came around again to slam my elbow into his face. Argento’s gun roared. The man’s nose shattered and he crashed into me, knocking us into Argento’s back. We fell in a tumble and Argento screamed as the soldier hammered him in the gut with his fist, striking out at whoever was closest.
He threw his hips over and grabbed Argento’s throat. I jumped behind him, wrapping my arms and legs around him. I gripped his lower jaw hard. I grabbed the opposite end on the back of his head and whipped my arms apart with a crack, severing his spine.
I stood to look for the other soldier, the one who attacked the green lady. He was dead on the ground, riddled with bullets, and a neat little hole the size of caliber Argento used right between the eyes.
Everyone stopped and looked around before settling on me. In the silence, a new background sound replaced the din of battle. Like a soft rainstorm on a tin roof, a thousand droplets of blood formed and dripped from the grated floor to whatever was below.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
I don’t know if I passed out or if my mind was so overcharged it simply couldn’t hang onto the memories, but I had no idea why I was laying on the hood of my Chevy looking up at the night sky.
Djimon held me down and I heard the echoes of a loud scream. Mine.
I sucked in a sharp breath and tried to sit up.
“Hold him!” Irish said. She still wore her ME’s jacket and ID badge.
Djimon’s grip tightened on me. For a second I thought of four different ways to slip out, pull him down, and break his—what the hell?
My mind was still my own. That was something, I guess, but the demon was there, hungrier than ever and taking cheap shots while I wasn’t paying attention. I doubt it cared if someone was a friend or not. No, it didn’t. Why should I? They betray you, they envy you, they hurt you, Stop! I may only have one or two, but that’s one or two more than you, so shut the hell up.
Irish and Djimon stared at me. Ummm, I might have said that last bit out loud. It’s not real, Adrian. It’s not a demon. It’s not something inside you. It’s just your instincts on an evil hyper drive. No one was going to get hurt because of me. Not again.
What about Claire?
I shuddered and convulsed and Djimon let me up. I slid off the hood beside the car onto my knees and bent over dry heaving.
“Claire? Djimon, was Claire—” it hurt to put words together.
He shook his head. “No, we did not find her.”
“But… ponytail guy… Lewis… I found him.”
“We found his body. He’s dead, Adrian.”
“No, he… he was working for… not Vitale. The other one, the one who betrayed Vitale, the man talking to lightning spider-web face.”
They looked confused. My god, no one knew where Claire was. Three men had known, and I killed two of them. The third, the man who betrayed Vitale, he was the one I wanted. He had her! I was three feet away from him! Why couldn’t I remember? He was going to hurt her, addict her and destroy her mind. He would kill her when he was done, or worse, sell her as chattel, a broken shell and willing vessel to the depraved filth with the highest bid.
“Adrian,” Djimon said.
“I found them… I… I found them…” I sputtered, trying to stand.
“Adrian we need to leave.”
“We saved them… we found the… but Claire she…” I hammered the side of the car, caving in the passenger door.
“Djimon, we have to get him strapped down before he injures himself worse. He is reacting far different than the women you called me to look at,” Irish said.
“Is he in danger?” Djimon asked.
“He has more toxin in his blood than anyone I’ve seen, but beyond that I don’t know. Since it hasn’t killed him yet he might live, but coming down will be—he’s going to crash hard. And that’s if his heart doesn’t give out first,” she said. “He needs a hospital.”
“We don’t have time for this,” said Jack, who walked around the side of the car addressing everyone in general. “The girls are on the way to the address you gave. Is that sufficient?” he asked Djimon.
He nodded to Jack.
“Then we’re done here. I have injured to see to and god knows what’s happening to my people around the city since this started,” Jack said.
“The women?” I asked.
“We got them out, and thanks to Jack, they’re on their way to Stratford,” said Djimon. “Miss Jordan is in my car. The others were gone before we got her out.”
“They left the ship… after Vitale…” I coughed. I grabbed my sides as my ribs turned to fire.
“Adrian don’t,” Irish said, kneeling and pulling my arms away. “Two of your ribs are broken. Maybe more. I know it’s hard, but you need to relax.”
“Did you see them?” I asked.
“From a distance,” answered Djimon. “I had the women in one of the warehouses and called Irish to check on them in case there was need for immediate medical attention.
Several men left the ship as the sound of battle started below decks. They opened the gate to the rental place and took two vans.”
“Need to… to check it out,” I said, coughing again.
“Mr. Knight we need to leave. Now. The police will be here any minute and we’ve wasted enough time as it is,” said Diamond Jack.
“Adrian, he’s right,” said Djimon.
“No!” I screamed, causing baseball bats to drive nails into my sides. “Jack… Jack please. Your men… knew what they were doing. What they were getting into. Claire… she didn’t know. He’s… he’s going to hurt her. Jack… help her Jack.”
Diamond Jack stared at me like I was the strangest person he’d ever met. For one brief second I thought Argento nodded to me.
“Three men,” Jack said finally. “Two go in. One stays on watch out front and we go quick. In and out and then we’re gone. Mr. Adeyemo, you will accompany me. Argento will take watch.”
Djimon looked at me and I nodded. The three men ran across the parking area and past several rows of containers before they slipped into the fenced area of the rental place.
“How long do I have?” I asked.
“An hour maybe. It will be a rollercoaster. Highs and lows. Eventually you’ll collapse. I don’t know what will happen after that,” Irish sat, looking at me with the most expression I’d seen in her eyes in a long, long time.
My little sister Evelyn sat on her lap with the same look. I ran my hands threw my hair and held my head trying to fight it. My sister held her little hand out toward mine and my breathing grew quick and ragged. A lot of people close to me died after she was gone. Some had been very close. But I hadn’t failed any of them. I hadn’t lost someone I tried to save. Not since Evey. Evey and Michael.
Now, Claire. I stretched my hands out and fought back the tears. Irish followed my line of sight, saw me staring into space with my arms out, and rubbed her eyes.
“Oh, Adrian,” she said, shaking her head.
She sat on her knees and moved to sit beside me when she stopped and cocked her head listening. Police sirens, lots of them, neared the entrance gate. Red and blue flashing lights reflected off the high sides of warehouses and stacked shipping crates near the front.
“Can you move? We need to move, don’t we? Adrian, you shouldn’t be here. What do we do?” she pleaded.
“Nothing,” I said. “No time to get away clean.”
I didn’t tell her the demon inside had gone into stealth mode waiting to be unleashed again. It was there, hungry, angry, and crouched in the brush prepared to strike the second it spotted prey. I was far from cool on the inside. My hands shook with a tremor like being jittery from too much caffeine. It was a physical manifestation of warning to remind me the tension was building and needed a release. Would, in fact, find one eventually if I did not provide it in time. I wasn’t at all sure what would happen if I had to fight my way clear.
It scared me. I mean really, really freaking terrified me feeling those urges and understanding the overwhelming tide of instinct bearing down on my volition. If I hadn’t dealt with it when I had—or how I had—I wasn’t sure anyone would have made it off that ship alive.
“You don’t know me,” I said to Irish.
“What?”
“You’re a doctor. A medical examiner. Act like it,” I said, reaching over and tapping her badge.
“That’s awful weak, Adrian. I’m not even supposed to be here. What possible reason would I have for being out by the river.”
“Knew you’d think of something,” I said, trying not to tremble. Cars screeched to a halt and doors slammed. This was not a good time to lose it.
Several pairs of boots stomped across the pavement setting a perimeter.
“This is the New Jersey State Police,” said a voice over a loudspeaker. “Stay where you are and put your hands behind your head.”
Some officers yelled into radios after discovering the first bodies. They rushed ahead when they saw some were still alive, and found me and Irish back against my car.
Two officers ran over with their weapons drawn. “Hands on your head!”
Irish tapped her badge and held it out for them. “I’m a doctor. Assistant medical examiner. This man is unarmed and injured.”
“Ma’am? I don’t think you’re supposed to be here. I’m—”
“Going to let a man die if you don’t let me do my job, officer.”
“Is he stable?”
“For now.”
“Jimmy, cuff him to the door handle then come back over here and watch her. I need to find the lieutenant.” He ran off, Jimmy cuffed me, and took Irish several yards off to watch separately from me. Smart move, if not exactly protocol.
“Well looky what we have here,” said Detective Harris, holstering his sidearm and looking at me.
“What are you looking at, butthead?” I said on reflex. I mean, seriousl
y, what an asshat casting me as Lorraine.
Funny, I’d always wondered what the end of the line would look like for me. Losing Claire, drugged and cuffed to my car, beaten by the ex-boyfriend of the woman I tried to save, not to mention arrested for committing the crimes I’d tried to save her from—not what I had pictured.
It wouldn’t matter what Irish said now. There was no way I was getting away from Harris without killing him and that wasn’t me, not for a long time now.
Besides, I didn’t have a reason to run. Nothing to run to. When the feds found out about the arrest, on more than a few charges that were legitimate, I would be extradited to one of the cheaper motels in hell, if I was lucky.
“What the fuck did you just say to me?”
Besides, how could I hurt a man who delivered one setup after another? He was a gold mine.
“Harris,” I said.
He grabbed me by my jacket, picked me up, and slammed me against the car. “I don’t know what the hell happened back with Clark, but your ass is mine now.”
Whatever comeback I had died in a coughing fit. My chest burned and the crouching demon adjusted its weight to strike.
“What is going on? You leave him alone!” yelled Irish when she saw Harris throw me against the car.
“And just what the hell are you doing here?” he hollered, storming over to her.
The second Harris’s back turned an officer slipped behind me and uncuffed me from the door handle.
“Jack says to come with me, Mr. Knight.”
I didn’t argue. Maybe Jack had found something. It was a longshot, but I was grasping at straws. I’d be out of the game in less than an hour.
The officer escorted me through the crowd to where the police were parked and handed me a clipped stack of papers with the rental shops logo on it.
“Courtesy of Diamond Jack. Says someone destroyed the computers, but found this copy. Hopes you can use it, but either way you two are even,” then he walked off.
I opened the door to the nearest car, a dark sedan with a flashing light on the dash, and got in the driver’s seat. Someone would notice soon, but I needed out of the open.
