The Skinwalker Conspiracies - 02

by Jim Bernheimer

  “You’re joking right? Please tell me you’re joking!”

  I shook my head from side to side and tossed the shirt she’d come in with to her. “There’re dogs and birds gathering outside. He’ll be here soon. Get Silas and get into the upstairs bathroom. Take the phone and call the cops if the animals break in.”

  “What about you?” Karla demanded.

  “I’m going to the bathroom in the hallway and barricading the door to protect my body. Then I’m going after him.”

  She nodded and pulled the shirt on. As Karla stood and started to leave I grabbed her arm. “The next time you see this body, it might not be me. We need a safe word.”

  “Chicken noodle soup,” she said recalling the last thing she ate.

  “Right. If I don’t say it, don’t hesitate to shoot me. I mean it!”

  Her eyes opened wider, but she understood what I wanted her to do. I’d be dammed if I was going to let De Soto have my body, even if I was a goner.

  I called for Lucky, who reluctantly came, and we went into the bathroom. A ludicrous thought about how we could try and explaining this to the cops occurred while I was locking the bathroom door. They’d find me in my boxers with a dog here. With my luck, I’d end up being featured on that website that gives people awards for their stupid death stories.

  Locking the door, I turned and sat, putting my back against it. It’d be pretty difficult to force open, but then again some of those mutts De Soto had out there looked like they could chew through it.

  Either way, I needed to get moving. Lucky bounded around the small room barking and expressing his general displeasure about the whole situation while I regretted my choice to bring him in here. I should’ve sent him with Karla.

  Exiting my body required some focus and it wasn’t terribly easy all things considered, but I managed. Lucky watched my spectral form and confirmed that dogs could see me, which is why that neighbor’s dog at Mom’s house was always going through the roof.

  Mom. I hadn’t thought about her except to send Amos to warn her. It’d been well over a week since I last called or emailed. Part of me knew it was stupid to be thinking about her at a time like this, but there was that awkward feeling that I had been neglecting her.

  “Growing up sucks!” I exclaimed passing through the bathroom wall and back into my bedroom. I grabbed the broadsword and one of the spears. That was me - a regular gladiator in boxer shorts ready to face a conquistador.

  The sound of a window breaking set me in motion. I ran down the hallway to find a pair of angry dogs had smashed through the large window in the front. Needless to say, De Soto occupied more fearsome specimens than a beagle. The pieces of De Soto had been ejected at the barrier Silas created and floated in front of the opening. The mutts snapped at me and growled. Instinctively, I flinched, but their teeth passed through without doing any harm.

  Praying that Karla and Silas would stay in the relative safety of the master bathroom, I stepped by the dogs and eased into the barrier. There was a sensation like pushing past a heavy curtain. At least, I didn’t have to break it to get out. The nearest De Soto copy lunged for me and I jammed the spear into his gut in response. It wasn’t very satisfying and I had the feeling that this was only the beginning. The copies didn’t appear to be all that bright, but my guess was that they could easily make up for that with numbers.

  Swinging the sword from side to side, I kept the second spirit at bay as I wrenched at the spear buried in his disintegrating counterpart. More possessed dogs came charging in my direction and with a spirit in them, I somehow doubted that they would pass through me.

  Letting the spear go, I switched to a two handed grip on the sword and went after the second copy to finish him before I was overrun. One thing I was coming to grips with – the difference between swinging a sword at something and actually trying to maim something with a blade.

  The copy screamed soundlessly when I slashed an arm. It dived into the ground. Turning, I saw the spear was lying on the ground and hadn’t vaporized along with the De Soto copy. With the dogs almost on top of me, I had to make a fast decision. I didn’t want to try stepping back into the house because it would probably break or weaken the protective barrier. Going under the ground was an option, but I wouldn’t be able to see. That was no good. My old Army training told me to do something different and use the terrain to my advantage.

  I ran into the landscaping, specifically a thick based palm tree of some sort. It could protect most of my legs and torso from the physical form of the dogs.

  The first dog, a German Shepherd ran headlong into the tree and it shook under the impact. I actually felt that! Wasting no time, I slashed at it. The dog howled like the dickens and staggered drunkenly away. A few seconds later I noticed the decapitated head of a copy fall free from the animal and the rest of a human body slough out of the dazed canine before it too collapsed. Part of me hoped that it wasn’t dead. Unfortunately, I couldn’t stop and worry about the dog’s condition. Two others had taken a more cautious approach than the direct frontal attack and were circling around me and the tree where I was half-hiding. I dodged in and out of the palm in a crazy kind of dance, hacking away with no real form or skill.

  One of my swings connected and another crazed animal fell whimpering. The hound’s front legs looked uninjured, but they flopped uselessly on the ground while phantom smoke rose from the fur.

  With only one more a threat to me, I prepared to go on the offensive, but an object filled my vision. I’d been so concerned about protecting myself from the dogs and watching the ground surrounding me, that I’d forgotten all about … birds!

  A pair slammed into me, and I backpedalled almost dropping the sword as I came under assault from a mass of feathers, claws and pecking beaks. The dog pounced on me and we all went sprawling to the lawn. The scratches and the injuries from the birds stung, but the dog latched onto my leg and it felt every bit like a dog bite, even more painful than that one time I’d fought a bunch of animal spirits imprisoned by that ghost in western Maryland. Using my free arm, I smacked the birds away and gave the possessed mutt gnawing on my ankle a kick with my other leg. I should’ve put on pants and shoes, damn it!

  The temptation to start flinging around energy passed through my mind, but I knew I’d need to save my strength. De Soto had a whole legion of these things. A clumsy thrust of the sword dealt with the dog who was still reeling from my kick. Climbing to my feet and limping slightly, I could see people looking out their windows from the neighboring homes. Lord only knew what they must be thinking right now. One of the birds thrashed on the ground with a broken wing. The ghost inside lunged with only one working arm. I smashed the hilt of the sword across his face and reversed the blade, delivering a thrust straight down into the duplicate’s back.

  I could feel De Soto’s power before I saw him. He wasn’t bothering to hide it or my senses were sharper outside of my real body. Whatever the reason, I sensed him and others.

  Fighting against the pain of my injured ghostly foot, I gimped over to the spear. There was my father stepping out of a large black SUV with a dozen other ghosts surrounding him and the bodyguard that I was fairly certain was a Skinwalker as well. Armed with a spear and a sword and in just a pair of boxers, I was like some poor man’s version of that King Leo… what’s-his-face from that movie I liked, 300, facing down that Persian army. It was probably what those poor slobs at the Alamo thought when they saw Santa Anna’s horde as well.

  The only problem was … things didn’t really end that well for the Spartans or the Texans in those instances and I wasn’t really interested in an epic final stand. About thirty feet separated me from that group and I prepared to hurl the spear.

  “What’s the matter, Conquistador?” I yelled. “Don’t think you can take me by yourself?”

  Dad’s face twisted in a cruel smile as he said, “Oh, I could, but what’s the use in having soldiers if you aren’t willing to use them?”

  The spear mi
ght hurt De Soto, but I hesitated since it would definitely hurt Dad. I simply looked at the middle of the ghosts and stepped into the throw…

  …only to be tripped by the one duplicate who had gone into the ground earlier. My throw went wild and the spear stabbed into the dirt and stuck there.

  The duplicate grabbed my sword, but I punched him in the face and delivered a backhand slash, that might or might not have been enough to finish him.

  “Pathetic, Ross,” De Soto said emerging from my father’s protection and drawing his duplicates and their power back into him. “Beyond pathetic, actually.”

  As the copy I’d just injured was sucked back to De Soto like a spectral vacuum cleaner, he looked at his bodyguard and said, “Go, fetch his body and kill anything in your way.”

  “How’d you find me?” I asked moving just enough to make the large Skinwalker hesitate.

  “My animals,” he said opening his arms wide. “They can spot a blessed house and such a strong one at that! You might just as well have put up one of those neon signs indicating your location. So very sad - undone by your need to protect your human allies. Does that make you happy, whelp?”

  Actually, it did. It meant Cassandra hadn’t betrayed me, which was oddly reassuring given the circumstances. “Go ahead and keep running your mouth, you worthless loser. You talk a tough game, but you don’t have the guts to face me. Wasn’t it you running from me last time? All these punk asses are here to wear me down and get destroyed. How’s it feel to be expendable, boys?”

  “Still trying to goad me into a solo confrontation, eh? My men are loyal followers, little Ross. I will not sit idly by and watch them be destroyed. They know how much I value them. Together, we will crush you! Now, if you are finished spouting meaningless words, it is time to end your miserable existence.”

  “I actually found Michael’s words to be rather insightful,” a female voice interrupted, causing everyone to turn. From the corner of my eye, I caught the look of shock on De Soto’s face. He hadn’t sensed her either.

  “You!” De Soto cursed the visage of Virginia Poe who gracefully drifted across the road.

  “Oh don’t look so surprised, Spaniard. I did promise you some years ago that I’d be there on the day you were defeated and this one has been overdue for quite some time.”

  As she spoke a pickup truck with Texas plates roared up. I recognized Joe McKinney, or rather William McLaury, behind the wheel as Travis and several other ghosts from the Alamo jumped out of the bed. From where I stood, things were suddenly things were looking up.

  “Traitor!” De Soto roared pointing at Travis. The air around us began to crackle with power and a very out of place chill swept through the area and the sky darkened. Things were about to get very ugly in this little, upscale neighborhood.

  “I’ve been trying to get out from under your yoke for almost a century. Or did you forget what the fight at the Alamo was all about?” William Travis replied. Behind him, the San Antonio Detective came out with a twelve gauge pump action and wearing body armor. He used the truck’s engine block to shield his lower body and looked ready to take out anything living. The shotgun moved back and forth between my father and De Soto’s bodyguard. That Glock in the bodyguard’s hands seemed rather puny in comparison.

  The ancient Conquistador pulsed with energy. “So be it! I’ll make certain to take me with you, girl!”

  With that pronouncement, he charged, flanked by his loyal followers. I closed the distance between me and Virginia and reached her side just as she threw her arms forward. The wave of energy reminded me of the fight against her elder cousin back in Baltimore. The energy wall scattered most of the lesser spirits and caused several others to stumble. De Soto wasn’t even slowed. He knifed through it and tried to plow into us. I met him with a swinging sword that rebounded off of him where it should have cut him in half. The blow bounced him away and he rolled into the ground before disappearing beneath it.

  Stupid me! I should have known that a phantom weapon wouldn’t do the trick. I tossed it toward one of the Alamo ghosts and scanned the ground for De Soto.

  “Sense him,” Virginia warned me, but it came too late. De Soto’s arms grabbed my legs, his hand digging into the area where the dog had bit earlier and dragged me under.

  For someone used to being able to see, the darkness under the earth was unnerving. I could still sort of see De Soto, mostly by the flash of his punches and kicks impacting against me.

  He was quick and fluid, striking me from all sides, above and below. I struggled and flailed at a disadvantage, so used to fighting someone on a flat surface, ghosts can attack from any angle and he knew I hadn’t come close to mastering it. It was like fighting a damn shark in a swimming pool! Still not terribly used to floating around without a body, I “swam” for the surface, only to have him ram me two more time while releasing bursts of energy that sent me reeling.

  A frail looking arm snaked around my hand and Virginia yanked me out of Mother Earth’s embrace with a strength she should not possess.

  “Quit toying with him!” She barked at me while easily fending off an attack from a ghost twice her size. The stupid look on my face was probably all the answer Virginia needed.

  Yeah. That’s what I was doing – not getting my ass kicked. Not at all! Last time we’d fought I’d delivered a series of quick and brutal attack. Now, he was beating me at my own game.

  This wasn’t the time for my well-practiced kicks and punches. It was time for me to get nasty and fight like a wrestler. Drawing on the energy inside of me, I jumped down into the soil ready to grapple. The wait for De Soto’s next strike wasn’t very long. He slammed into my back and pain shot through the core of my being. I spun and twisted around, slapping my open hand down on his forearm. Tugging him sideways, I mashed the palm of the other hand into the side of his face, driving whatever spectral power I could call on into the blow.

  He kicked and I grunted, but held fast as we took turns trying our best to electrocute each other like some idiotic game where two boys punch each other in the nuts until one of the can’t go on. Getting my arms around him in a series of illegal holds, I squeezed and turned up the juice and it had to be hurting him, because I was getting my own feedback.

  “Die scum!” De Soto added his own energy into the hellish vortex we’d created. It burned, it ached, but neither of us would give up.

  Somehow, we our fight ended up back on the surface and my eyes squinted against the early morning sunlight and the pulses of energy we generated. I could sense De Soto calling on his remaining duplicates trying to gather the energy to finish me.

  I was empty and the world spun as my grip weakened. Maybe I’d be able to intercept the energy like last time, but he had the upper hand spinning me away from the phantoms as they merged with him. A greatly diminished Travis wielding my sword, along with Virginia, and a few others tried to destroy the arriving duplicates, but too many were getting through.

  The Conquistador’s triumphant howls of victory mocked my feeble attempts to stop him. I was holding on for dear life, or was it unlife at this point ? I couldn’t be sure. Virginia was yelling at me, wanting me to do something, but her words were muffled by the roar of energy surrounding me. De Soto broke my hold and grabbed me by my ethereal throat. The crackling energy in his fist vibrated inside my soul and I was seconds away from being annihilated.

  “So you end, Michael Ross!”

  I could only smack at him with my left hand grabbing at his vaporous form and pulling to try and make him let go. Then the strangest thing happened. I yanked a duplicate right out of him and flung it about ten feet!

  “No!” De Soto screamed as his eyes grew wide. William Travis, pounced on it and cleaved the duplicate in half before it could merge.

  The ancient ghost’s greatest ability was also his biggest weakness. I knew what had to be done. With my own triumphant gurgle of a man being choked, I ripped more of his duplicates away, feeling his grip lessen as I peeled his as
s like an onion. His desperate energy release nearly caused a blackout, but I willed myself to stay conscious and kept tearing away at him unraveling the ghost faster than he could pull himself back together.

  The moment I knew I was going to win was when he released me and tried to run for it. Travis and Virginia tackled him and I picked myself back up and charged, pushing Travis aside and, quite literally, ripping De Soto a new one. I pulled and tugged, over and over at the specter until nothing remained in Virginia’s clutches.

  Sinking to my knees in front of her, I was spent. I gasped for breath, finding the notion to be ridiculous since I wasn’t solid, and turned.

  Travis was busy destroying the copies. Some fought, but most flew off in different directions, probably following De Soto’s last impulse to run.

  “We’ve got to … We’ve got to…” I was having a hard time putting the words together.

  Virginia’s gentle touch seemed to help. “We’ve got to get you into a body, Michael.”