by Kenny Soward
“All right. Anyone know how to trigger these things?”
No one did, not even Selix, and the water was at their knees.
Lonnie put his hose in his mouth and tugged on the line, like ringing a bell. Seemed stupid at first, but then a pair of those wormy-tough tentacles reached and grasped them both and jerked them toward the ceiling. Lonnie closed his eyes as his entire body plunged into the cool mud. He was aware of bodies pressing against him, the distinct crush of Selix’s light, frail form against him, and Crash’s heaviness displacing matter on his left.
His boots, loose to begin with, captured a lot of muck, and he had to tense his calves and feet to keep them from being pulled off. And then the pressure released, tentacles offering them up to the river’s current.
Lonnie struggled, shoved back and forth by the flow, using one arm to get his balance and the other hold Selix. The tentacles pushed them toward the shore, driving them gently until they got their feet beneath them, until cool air kissed his forehead, at which point he released the nasty-tasting hose from his mouth and churned his legs for solid ground.
Gruff's beasts were far weaker than when they’d entered the Under River. Far less urgent and able. Dying, Lonnie figured, as Gruff’s lingering power over the catacombs waned.
Soon, waves were lapping against his neck, and he opened his eyes to the dark shadows of trees and dead branches littering the shore. The strange, ghostly lights of a factory or shipyard shining between the boughs in a puzzle of light. A boat whistle blew low behind him, and he glanced back at a long barge easing up river, Turu Corp stenciled on its side.
Then he held Selix tight and made one final push for safety.
Chapter 31
Elsa and Makare were the first to reach the shore. Lonnie saw the whorchal scanning around, then she bolted, leaving Makare standing in two and a half feet of water. Elsa glided the last few yards to solid ground and disappeared into the shoreline woods in five seconds flat.
“What the fuck was that about?”
Selix’s eyes followed her. “She must have seen something.”
Makare walked back into the rushing current, arms drawn against her chest, fists tucked beneath her chin. Lonnie casually reached an arm around her waist. Pulled her close, naked skin slick and frigid in his hand.
“Let me die, brother.” The words through chattering teeth.
“Not a chance.”
“You might live to regret it.”
“I probably will.”
Makare succumbed, resting her head against his shoulder, allowing herself to be taken to shore.
It was the closest they’d been in centuries.
The gang trudged on until they stood in ankle deep water. Lonnie felt the full force of gravity on his tired knees and back. Clothes soaked, it added several pounds to his weight, but he was glad he’d kept his boots and jacket, both of them having saved his life multiple times in the Under River. The jacket was nearly ruined, but it reminded him of himself; waterlogged and faded, but still alive. He waited until Selix could stand on her own two shaky legs before turning to watch the tentacles sluggishly retreat beneath the waves.
“They’re dying,” Selix said. “Gruff’s children are dying.”
“They did good. They saved us.”
“Yes, they did. So did Gruff. Fuck…” She fell against Lonnie, sobbing in a sudden surge of emotion. Lonnie's eyes filled with angry tears even though his body was cramping from not fixing.
He shot a glance at his sister, who only stared downriver as if she hadn’t heard a word of what they were saying.
But she was listening. Oh, yes she was.
It was late afternoon, the sun setting behind them to the west. He was thankful for the encroaching gloom. The midday light would have blinded him after being underground so long. And despite being exhausted, despite their injuries and losing Gruff, they’d made it. Had even come across an unexpected windfall with the capture of his sister and the knowledge she would hunt them no more.
Ingrid clapped. “Look at what Elsa has found!”
The whorchal stepped out of the woods with a squirming creature in her grip, her claws vice tight around his neck.
Jedi!
She dragged the guy before them, proud as a cat having brought a half dead mouse back to its master’s doorstep. “It is turning into such a good day,” she said.
Jedi was distressed, but when he saw Makare, his expression turned to confusion and fear. “She didn’t kill you? How…?”
“Yep. You picked the wrong side, again. Man, you need to re-think some of your decisions.”
Bess, who had been watching them, inclined her head for Lonnie to follow her. “Hey, can we talk?”
Lonnie nodded, “yeah,” and handed his sister over to Elsa who made the woman sit on a rock and reminded her what would happen if she ran. Makare's feet were muddy and bleeding. She wasn't going anywhere.
Lonnie, Selix, and Bess walked off a short distance. Lonnie gave Selix his jacket, for all the good the waterlogged piece of leather would do her. At least she wasn’t half naked anymore.
Bess glanced at the bedraggled crew and back at Lonnie. She looked tired but anxious. “What are you going to do now?”
Lonnie shrugged. “I was thinking of disappearing for awhile. Find a nice dry spot to squeeze our prisoners for information.”
“I can’t let you take them.”
Lonnie gave her an incredulous look. “You don’t have a say. Makare is my sister. Who, by the way, tried to kill me multiple times. And she killed my mother. No one's separating us now.”
“I’ve got my guns.”
Lonnie sneered. “Maybe, if they still work. You think you can out gun my whorchals? Or, better yet, beat me then run off with them? Don't kid yourself.”
Bess’s eyes dropped, boot kicking at the scree. “Hey, I helped you back there.”
“That you did. And we’re damn grateful.”
“We are,” Selix affirmed. “It was almost like you were one of us.”
The hint of a smile played on Bess’s lips but vanished just as fast. “Those two can help us. The ECC, I mean. They can help us fight this war.”
“What war?”
“In case you haven't noticed, because you’ve been stuck in your own little world so damn long, us Earthlings have been fighting for our lives. You treat us like cattle, plucking innocent people from their homes and families and feeding on them. You've been doing it for hundreds of years. 'Vengers are the only protectors this world has. Now rippers are making an even bigger move. No more hiding in the shadows. I need Makare to talk.”
Lonnie nodded in understanding. “But me and mine are only here because we can’t live anywhere else. And we destroy your enemies, too. We’re not robbing babes from their cribs.”
“Then it’s a war between the ECC and others of your kind. The kind not like you.” Bess laughed. “Responsible killers that you are. But if you get in my way, you'll become a problem.”
Lonnie’s eyes turned hard. He understood where she was coming from. He really did. But he wouldn't be intimidated. "Okay, you can have Jedi. He’s one of yours. More of a pain in the ass, anyway. He’d have information about who hacked the ECC systems.”
“Thanks, but not good enough. I need them both.”
“You don’t have a choice.”
Bess switched from one leg to the other. Even wet and tired she exuded an unrelenting doggedness. “Who’s hunting you, Lonnie? Me, or a pack of ghoulkine?” When Lonnie didn’t respond, Bess leaned in and lowered her voice. “Come with me. Help me. I can work something out. Get you a reprieve.”
“Right. Your glorious return to the ECC with a gang of notorious fade rippers in your custody. Ripe for the capture and torture.”
“That wouldn't happen.”
Lonnie shook his head. How far could he trust her? One thing for sure, they had limited options. No weapons. No drugs. Their contacts blown. They might make it to Dayton, or they might die on the ri
ver shore.
Bess shrugged, held out her hands. “I've no idea if there’s anything left of the ECC. I’d be appreciative to have you along. To have you on my side.”
“What are you saying?”
“I’m saying that I’m taking you up on your offer from before. Mutual assistance.”
Lonnie hadn’t expected that. “Right, but before I meant out here. Now. You know, so we didn’t go through the trouble of escaping the Under River only to murder each other on the shore. What you’re asking is too much.”
Bess met his reluctance in equal parts. “It’s hard for you to trust me. To trust my word. But I trusted you, right? We fought together. We’re still fighting together. Plus, I’m a woman of faith. That’s where I stand. You know that by now.” Her expression morphed into zealous determination, tears forming around the rims of her eyes. “I didn’t realize how much He loved me until I faced her, until I spoke the words of prayer. I thought I was going to die, man, but I didn’t quit. The Lord blessed me.” Bess's voice trailed off, and she half turned to hide her emotion.
Lonnie nodded, remembering Bess shouting her gospel at Makare, stopping the goddess in her tracks.
Selix squeezed his arm. She hadn't said much but had been watching and listening. “Lonnie, we can probably make it work, but they can't have Makare. She’s our bargaining chip.”
Lonnie shook his head. Shot a glance at his sister who watched them from her spot on the rock. “You’re saying we should give this a chance?”
Selix was skeptical. “I’m just saying we can’t give up Makare either way.”
Bess frowned. “You know, I could have left you guys down there. The thought crossed my mind.”
“Why didn’t you?”
“Because He teaches compassion, although sometimes I fail at that. Helping you went against my beliefs, but I knew it was the right thing to do. I’ve been asking the Lord to help me sort it out, but He doesn’t explain things outright. It’s never easy.”
Lonnie gazed out across the river, waiting for an answer to surface. None came. He'd have to choose a path and see where it led. Every decision from here on out would be a fork in the road. “Let’s say we return the favor. Come with you to—”
“Lexington. The ECC headquarters there. The exit is an hour from here, then another hour on back roads to the Citadel.”
“How are we getting there?”
“I have some ideas.”
“We need to score first.”
Bess’s frown deepened.
“You’ll want us high. We're a pain in the ass without it.”
“Okay, we’ll figure something out.”
“And clothes. And something to eat.”
“Fine. McDoc’s is on the way.”
Lonnie’s stomach grumbled at the thought of real, if processed, food. “And if you don’t need our help we go free, with my sister. If our services are needed, and we manage to live, you give us transportation and weapons and let us go, with my sister.”
Bess simmered impatiently in the disagreement, eyes picking through the scree at their feet. But Lonnie had learned Bess didn't dawdle over a decision. She sighed. “Can we interview Makare for a couple of hours before you take her?”
Lonnie’s eyes slid to Selix, who gave a hesitant nod.
“It doesn’t make me happy, but I’ll agree to that.”
“Okay.”
“Okay.”
And they shook on it.
After Lonnie explained the plan to Crash, Ingrid, and Elsa, they pilfered two blue tarps from a boat parked in someone’s driveway, wrapped Selix and Makare up, and walked south along Kentucky Route 8. Bess led the way, followed by Ingrid and the wordless Crash. Then Selix and Lonnie. Lastly, Elsa, Makare, and Jedi.
No one complained. They'd been promised a fix and some food. Warmth would be nice, too, because Lonnie was cold and miserable. The night was cooling fast, and they were soaked. Selix sniffled and wiped snot from her nose every other minute. Ingrid shivered.
The homes on Route 8 were old and smallish, raised off the ground to mitigate flooding, easy to rot and mold should the waters get too high. Wooded areas lay scattered between them, reaching to the shore. The river folk didn’t mind bugs in the summer and icy breezes off the water in the spring and fall. The entire place smelled of mud and creepers and honeysuckle. Crickets and frogs made noise although they weren't as chatty as in warmer weather.
They passed several small churches. Bess regarded each carefully as if she wanted to go up and knock on the door but, unconvinced of something, kept walking.
There was the First Christian Church of Petersburg, Kentucky, then River Walk Methodist, which had seen far better days, but nothing else for a mile now.
“Why are you looking for a church?” Jedi said. “We should find a car to hot-wire. I can spark anything on this road. Well, late models. Nothing with an automatic ignition.”
“Shut up,” Bess said.
Elsa cuffed him for good measure. The whorchal might have complained more had she less to do, but she was having far too much fun with her new toys. Makare received the brunt of her affections. Elsa sniffed at her often, slapped her ass through the blue tarpaulin, and generally made Lonnie’s sister miserable.
Makare’s cut feet left bloody spots on the cement.
Grace Baptist Church came up on their left, opposite the river, and Bess stopped. Head cocked, a warm smile crossed her face. Like she'd just recognized an old friend getting off a plane. She motioned them up the side driveway into a cracked blacktop parking lot.
“Wait out here.” Bess went to the door and knocked. A crack of light appeared, and a discussion ensued. A pale, age-spotted hand came out and patted Bess on the shoulder, excitedly ushering her in.
Lonnie and Selix exchanged a look.
“Well,” Ingrid said. “I may have been wrong about this `Venger, if she brings us wine. These churches have wine, yes?”
“I’ve got my wine right here.” Elsa’s dark tongue came out and licked up the back of Makare’s neck. The diminutive woman barely cringed anymore.
Fifteen minutes passed before a rumble kicked up, then a backfire, and from the rear of the building trundled an extended Dodge Ram van with the words Grace Baptist Church stenciled in white across the sides. A huge beast, its red paint hid the rust spots. A V-8, Lonnie figured, with a pitted muffler and a cloud of gray smoke puffing out the exhaust pipe. The style put it somewhere in the neighborhood of the 1980s, so it had to be twenty or thirty years old.
Bess pulled the monstrosity alongside them, twitched her head rearward, and said, “Get in.”
Chapter 32
An hour and a half later, they rumbled down I-75 in the gigantic, teetering Dodge Ram, which Lonnie found out was a 1988 model based on the registration in the glove compartment. They were happily high and munching on McDoc’s as they went. Bess shoved a cheeseburger in her mouth as she kept the misaligned van on the road, the smell of oil and moldy seats kicking up every time someone adjusted their sitting position.
Lonnie was just finishing his Big Hungry burger, knowing he needed the energy even though the dope was all he wanted. Selix had devoured a large chicken bite meal and an order of slaw before nodding off where she snuggled in his lap.
Lonnie shifted, looking back into the depths of the van. Everyone was in various stages of feeding their faces. Jedi washing his down with a large soft drink. Lonnie’s sister, dressed in an old T-shirt and jeans with a cheese-drippy burger in hand, making faces with every bite.
Elsa, sitting between Makare and Jedi in the middle seat, savored her McDoc’s Ribling sandwich in the loudest, most seductive way possible. Ingrid and Crash took the very back row. Crash had destroyed three Big Hungries, a Heart Attack with cheese, and was now finishing everyone's leftovers. The big man was in much better spirits, his natural healing had started as soon as he’d fixed.
They’d gotten the drugs the hard way. Stalked the street corners in Covington where the dealers were n
ormally the predators. Their first three stops in the massive church van had frightened everyone off, but on the third try, Ingrid flew out of the side door, chased the guy, and threw him into the bushes. She robbed him of his goods, then took a pint of blood from him for good measure.
Lonnie laughed thinking they must look like some questionable motherfuckers trying to lure drug dealers into their van. Like some insane religious cult hell bent on reforming bad men with a Bible and God’s own vampires.
Once scored, they’d done up right there in front of Bess and everyone, including Makare, who’d reached out for the needle until Elsa gave her a good slap across the head.
Nope, couldn’t have Makare shooting up and regaining even an inkling of her strength. Lonnie was pissed they’d been too impatient to cover themselves as they fixed, inadvertently divulging the source of their power in the process.
The gang’s spirits had gotten a palpable boost from the pure grade coursing through their veins. Even Crash managed to laugh, and Lonnie could see patches of skin when he lifted the makeshift bandages. He was healing fast.
Soon after that, they’d stopped at a charity clothes dumpster, broken the lock on the back, and looted it. No one had questioned the people in the old-ass church van fishing through the donations like kids at Christmas. They’d allowed Makare a T-shirt and jeans (two sizes too big for her girlish form) with holes in the knees, but no shoes.
Didn’t want to make it easy for her to run.
Now they were cruising south down I-75.
Lonnie faced the road. He had the fix kit and what remained of the heroin tucked between his legs, and he was feeling great, both physically and mentally. It had been tough losing Gruff, and he wasn’t sure how that loss would affect fade rippers and `Vengers alike. They relied on him for the medical attention they couldn’t receive from a regular doctor.
It was too bad. Lonnie missed the guy already.
He watched Bess drive. She looked great, even shoving a hamburger in her mouth. Not model or actress. Just a girl next door who happened to be a kickboxer, a weapons expert, and as tough as anyone he’d ever met in this world.
