by Kenny Soward
“I’m fine. Just want to get home.”
Lonnie went to say something but hesitated. He wasn’t sure it was a smart move, but they could use Bess.
“Hey, I've got an idea.”
“Go ahead.” Bess’s face was stoic, her body seeming to march along at its own determined pace.
“We share a common enemy. I was thinking if you agreed to work with us, you know, in case things aren’t going so well up there for either of us, I could extend the truce. Guarantee it.”
“I thought we'd established that. Code o’ Peace and all.”
“Yeah, but when we get out of here…” Lonnie’s eyes flicked to the others where they stood and waited. The glint of Elsa’s new sword in the greenish luminance. “In case you hadn’t noticed, they’re a little wild.”
Bess shrugged. “Don’t care what they are. They mess with me, they’re dead.”
Lonnie bit back a retort. “C’mon, you’re thinking the same thing. Soon as we get out of here you’re going to let us have it.”
“The thought crossed my mind.”
“What if you need our help?”
Bess laughed. “I won’t, trust me on that.”
When they re-joined the gang, Lonnie saw that Crash had shifted their gear pack to his left shoulder and was helping Selix hold Gruff upright.
“What’s wrong with him?” he asked.
Selix shot him a worried look. “I’m not sure. He's sick.”
Lonnie stepped around and got in front of Gruff, held the man’s cheeks in his hands (they were burning up), and peered into his strange mismatched irises. He was barely there, unconscious on his feet.
“Hey, buddy,” he said, giving Gruff a light slap on the cheek. “Hey, you okay in there?”
Gruff’s eyes rolled, recognizing Lonnie for a second before going vacant.
“Hm. This isn’t good. Without him, we're lost.”
“We keep going straight.” Crash motioned ahead with his chin.
“Agreed,” Selix said. “Let’s move.”
They followed the focused beam of Bess’s flashlight along the labyrinth of halls, eager to put distance between themselves and the battle raging behind them.
Selix continued to encourage the old man, who occasionally became coherent, gesturing and muttering, “keep `er straight,” or, “make `is turn.”
Crash added his support. “Come on. You can do it. Keep pointing. Keep tellin’ us where to go.”
In time, things caught up with them. But it wasn't the river.
A sudden cacophony of new noise rose, squelches and sucking sounds and cries, causing Lonnie’s skin crawl. Bess heard them too because she turned and sent her torch light into the darkness.
Lonnie glanced over his shoulder, following the beam. His stomach dropped at the sight of smallish figures cavorting down the hall after them. A dozen. Two dozen. Three.
The things danced and cried and caterwauled.
Wild shadows leapt across the walls and floor.
Selix gasped.
“Finally.” Elsa whipped her sword back and forth.
Tentacles slithered in the ceiling’s viscous surface, punching through to grab the creatures up, throttling them, slamming them against the hard-baked clay walls or tossing them back down the passage. A good thing, Lonnie supposed, except that the roof was pouring buckets of river water in, and the things were getting closer.
Bess nudged him with her hip. “Come on. We need to go.”
“Yeah.”
They pushed Gruff as hard as they dared, the old man gone slack between Selix and Crash. Through more tunnels and chambers, some pitch dark without the benefit of the glowing moss, others teeming with it. They passed storerooms like the first, filled with priceless artifacts and other things.
The braying and caterwauling followed them the entire way, driving nails of sound into Lonnie’s ears.
“Guys,” Selix called. “We have to stop.”
“We can’t,” Bess said, moving past the group and stopping.
“We’re not leaving him here.”
Bess came back, beamed her flashlight in Selix’s face. “Listen, we've got a couple hundred things chasing us. Whatever in God’s name they might be—”
“Skar imps,” Ingrid said. “Nuisances, to be sure. One is easy enough to kill. But hundreds of them, not so much.”
Lonnie plucked Bess’s jacket sleeve, trying to break down her hard commando edge. “We’re making a stand right here. You in or out?”
Bess made a frustrated grunt and spun away. Paced in a circle.
Lonnie turned to the gang. “Okay, monsters and fiends. We’ve got thirty seconds before we’re overrun. Settle Gruff and form up across the hall. Don’t let anything through.”
“He was just saying we were getting close,” Selix sighed.
“Too late,” Bess muttered, stepping past them. She raised her pistol and popped off three rounds.
Lonnie spun to face the horde of leaping, tumbling monstrosities with her, his own XDS at the ready. Cat-sized things with sleek bodies that sometimes ran on two legs, sometimes four. Pale skin the color of washed out worms. Quick, but not particularly agile, they overran each another as they came on, claws scrambling in a bundle of chaos.
Lonnie fired into the mess. Rifle reports echoed down the chamber. Spurts of rounds creating one continuous, flickery light. Skar imps burst apart, their insides spreading across the floor to form a muddy jam.
One got through the initial wall of lead, coiled, and launched itself at Lonnie. He caught it mid-leap and squeezed. Human-like eyes glared back at him from bleeding sockets. The mouth was wide, nipping and biting. Its pasty body scarred with cuts, it slipped and wiggled in his grasp.
And then it sunk hooked claws into his forearm.
Lonnie howled and threw the thing against the wall, drop-kicking it as it rebounded to the floor.
Ten more took its place.
Stowing their rifles, the gang pulled hand guns. The firing began again, this time at a painfully slower pace. There weren’t enough flashes to keep up with the encroaching horde. A cloud of gun smoke filled the closed space, the metallic tang of it afflicting his nose.
Out of bullets, Lonnie holstered his XDS and held his right fist out, encircling it with his left so that his fingers were positioned over the back of his hand, as he'd done against the ghoulkine. Backing up, closing his eyes, he recalled those familiar parts of his rune training from his dreams. A brush of his fingertips and the power surged through him, awkward and inefficient. Yet, he imposed his will, harboring it before drawing the symbol of release.
A wave of energy swept the hall, skattering skar imps in its wake.
A grin stretched Lonnie's lips, but it was short lived. An imp scampered through and dove at him. He swung with his fists and missed, the beast landing on his chest. Two more attached to his legs, their claws popping clean through his mended denim, busting open the old wounds he’d received fighting the hoarbeast back in Rose Park. Lonnie jerked his body in a circle, hurled one off him and pummeled another. He grabbed the last by the head and pressed his thumb into its eye socket with a squish. Tried to pull it off, but it didn’t come so easily, sharp pain ripping through Lonnie’s thigh even as it died.
More shots rang out and Lonnie turned to catch Bess throwing a jab at one thing and then blasting another.
Elsa and Ingrid entered the fray, a flashing sword and an old native spear, slashing, stabbing and cutting things to pieces. The Drear Sisters weren’t particularly skilled and graceful with these types of weapons, but their ferocity more than made up for it.
The skar imps slowed their charge and began massing at a crawl; a dozen eyes and more, glaring up at them from the floor, waiting for an opening, coming at them in pairs.
“Crash, Selix. Get Gruff up and moving again. I think we can hold them off.”
With Elsa and Ingrid covering their retreat, they made better progress.
Some of the more aggressive imps got
through, slashing at their feet as they backpedaled. Bess fired into the crowd to keep them at bay, Lonnie used his power to brush a handful away, but more and more of those squirming bodies pressed in from the darker depths of the tunnel. Their eyes shined in the weird light as they moved with squeals and growls.
The walls fell away on either side, leaving them in a chamber the size of the rec room. Lonnie’s legs felt heavy as bricks, but he twisted to kick an encroaching imp and tripped. Bess caught him. They stumbled a few more feet and ran into Selix, Crash, and Gruff parked a short way inside.
Selix gave Lonnie an apologetic look and glanced at Gruff. “Sorry, he’s done.”
The skar imps flowed around them, too many to stop.
Crash and Selix set the ill man down, digging into the bag for what remained of their ammo and weapons
“Okay,” Crash said, brandishing a knife. “Let’s finish this. No way out. Let’s do this together. Right?”
“That’s right, my strong man.” Ingrid patted Crash on his shoulder and let her hand caress his biceps to the crook of his elbow. He flexed his arms, rolled his shoulders, and stretched them.
Elsa waved her sword. “Just turn me loose, Lons. I’ll cut these little mutts to pieces.”
Lonnie nodded, glad to find Elsa eager to do his bidding. “Selix. Ideas?”
Her blue eyes searched around, measuring things. She had the most experience. “Well, there’s only a few hundred of them, probably. My advice is to fight hard.”
“Not particularly helpful. Bess?”
“I got nothing.”
A howl drifted up from deep within the passage. Lonnie shook his head. “What the fuck is that?”
Lonnie expected to see some new monster come crashing into the fray, something more hideous than skar imps to deal with, but it was only Jedi. His legs churned and kicked like a rugby player going for a score, breaking through and scattering skar imps in every direction. He held what appeared to be an old baseball bat in his hands, swinging as he kicked, knocking the pesky creatures aside.
Bess stepped into his path and stopped him at the edge of the circle. “I told you to get lost.”
His expression was plaintive, pleading. “Jesus Christ. C’mon. These things are going to kill me!”
“I don’t care.”
“Bess, we could use an extra set of hands here,” Lonnie said.
Lonnie was sure she’d tell Jedi to go fuck himself, godliness or not, but instead she sighed and gave a quick nod, stepping out of Jedi’s way so he could join their circle.
“Why aren’t they attacking?” Elsa ran at the skar imps, swiping at them with her sword before retreating.
“Maybe they’re afraid of Jedi,” Ingrid snickered, feigning stabs with her spear.
“I doubt it,” Jedi returned. “They want me as much as they want you guys.” He shook his head. “You know, I should have just stayed homeless in Florida. There’s a chance I could have been eaten by a meth head, but at least it’s warm there.”
“God’s doors are always open. Now, or whenever. His word is the life.”
“Oh please,” Jedi said.
“So, Bess,” Lonnie said, glancing over. “Does your special…um…sight telling you anything?”
Bess was frozen to the spot. She clutched the cross around her neck with one hand, her carbon knife in the other. She’d turned her attention to Gruff, her flashlight beam pegging him, her face filled with confusion and fear.
“Bess, what is it?”
The old man got to his knees. Stood. His chest heaved, mouth making beached fish gasps. He teetered near the edge of the circle.
Selix grabbed him and pulled him back.
Lonnie chased a couple skar imps away. “Is he having a heart attack?
“I don’t know,” Selix said. “Gruff, what can I do?”
The old man hitched so violently that a red spot blossomed on the front of his shirt.
“The portal,” Gruff growled, stumbled a few feet toward one alcove, eyes determined.
“Yeah,” Lonnie said. “Are we close?”
Gruff nodded, coughed. “Close…”
Crash and Selix got back under his arms again while the sisters cut a swath through the mewling little beasts. Jedi took the flashlight from Bess and shined it ahead while Lonnie and Bess covered the rear. They fought out of the chamber and down a hall made from mortar and stone rather than mud. The floor was flat, stained with dirt and standing water.
The sounds of the rushing river were muted here, absorbed by the thicker walls and their echoing footfalls.
“I’ve never seen this part of the Under River before,” Selix said.
“Made long ago,” Gruff replied, voice raspy.
Lonnie glanced up at the ceiling. None of Gruff’s children slithered there any longer. Made sense, because the tremors had settled. The claustrophobic feeling wasn’t so bad, not with solid stone above them, ceilings a foot or two higher than they were used to.
Lonnie kicked a skar imp that got too close. Bess appeared disoriented, her fingers rubbing at her temples.
“You okay?”
The `Venger teetered, eyes locking on the old man. “There’s something wrong with him. My godsight…”
Lonnie stayed with her, despite that they were falling behind. His head swiveled back and forth between the skar imps and the gang. Before they could be overrun by the scampering beasts, Lonnie jerked Bess's arm, half dragging her along. She snapped out of it, picking up the pace, but her expression was disturbing.
“What is it? What do you see?”
“It’s Gruff. Something…” Determination blossomed on her face. She crossed herself, mumbled a prayer, and then exploded at Gruff with her knife raised high.
“Hey. Hey!” Lonnie shouted after her. The first hey was for Bess, but the second was for anyone who could stop her because she looked like she was about to kill Gruff and ruin their chances of escape.
With a glance over his shoulder, Crash saw her coming. Pushed Selix and Gruff ahead, bent low, and delivered an elbow to Bess’s gut that knocked the wind out of her and sent her sprawling to land at Lonnie’s feet.
“What the fuck was that all about?” Lonnie crouched to grab her knife where it had fallen, then took her by the arm and dragged her along, although he was thinking he should just leave her.
“I repeat. What the fuck was that?”
Bess shook her head, eyes darting between the knife Lonnie held awkwardly and the big man walking backwards between herself and Gruff.
Crash waved a finger at her. “You do that again, Little Miss, and I'll put something behind the next one.”
Bess snarled. “You don’t understand what I see. The Lord has shown me.”
“The Lord hasn't shown you shit. Look, you've been cool until now. Just don’t do that again.”
“You don’t understand!”
Selix’s cry snatched his attention.
A gurgling noise erupted from Gruff’s throat, sounding like pure spasm. The old man stumbled forward, jerking out of Selix’s grip. His face ticked once, again, and then he coughed up a glob of blood. Fell against the wall and remained there, hand massaging his chest while he gasped for breath.
The gang retreated. All of them but Selix.
Lonnie glanced over his shoulder. The skar imps were gone. Vanished.
“What the fuck’s going on, Selix?”
“I don’t know.” Selix crept forward. “Hey, Gruff. What’s wrong? Tell me how I can help you.”
Gruff only growled and grumbled.
“What’s his problem, man?” Jedi’s voice was tinged with panic, to-the-bone fear now, and Lonnie thought the guy would bolt at any second.
“I told you.” Bess was on her knees, hand gripping the cross around her neck. “Thou believest there is one God; thou doest well: the devils also believe and tremble.”
But the old man waved them away as he clutched his chest again.
“Gruff?” Selix’s voice was heavy with emot
ion. She took a step toward him. He jerked again, slammed his hand against the wall in pain.
“Noooo,” Gruff waved her off. “Go. Goooo…” He pointed ahead. His body shook and shivered. Blood dripped from his quivering lips.
Selix backed away from the old man. Lonnie got Bess up and pulled her past him. “Maybe we should do what he says. Get the fuck out of here.”
Selix stopped. “I’m not leaving him, Lonnie. He—”
Gruff’s chest bucked so hard it lifted him off his feet, startling them all, even the whorchals. Gasping, Lonnie let go of Bess, wrapped his arms around Selix’s waist, and yanked her backwards.
Together, they retreated, abandoning the old man to his pain.
Gruff put his back to the wall, his face a twisted mask. “Grraaahhh!” The words tore from his mouth as he bulged from the base of his neck to his protruding gut. He jiggled with the impact of it, but still his flesh remained unbroken.
Lonnie couldn’t make sense of it. Wondered how it was physically possible to be punched from the inside out.
Something was busting its way out of Gruff, and it would split him in two trying!
Selix yipped as blood blossomed down Gruff’s chest, staining his shirt in a straight line. The old man fell to his knees with a grunt. His belly bulged. Sagged. Bulged again.
And then, with a sickeningly prolonged crunch, Gruff broke open, his skin parting, ripping to reveal the muscle and sinew beneath.
“What the holy fuck?” Lonnie felt the blood drain out of his face and his legs grow weak.
“I made myself a portal,” Selix whispered.
“What?”
“’I made myself a portal,’ Gruff said. He didn’t build a portal because the portal was always him. He is the portal.”
And then it made perfect sense to Lonnie. The device Jedi stuck on him was a locater. Something had honed in on Gruff.
And it was coming through.
Gruff’s chest split wider. A tar-colored bulge formed. The old man, somehow still alive, beat at the thing with his fists, put both hands across his middle and locked his fingers as if he could hold it in.
Selix tried to break from Lonnie’s grasp, but there was no way he was letting her go, had already dragged her a good distance down the passage.
They had one more moment to see a gentle smile pass over Gruff’s blood covered face, and he made a shooing motion at them like they were a group of bothersome children.
