Galefire II : Holy Avengers

by Kenny Soward

  Enemy eliminated, Lonnie turned and hobbled back to Selix.

  He passed Bess on her way to the command center door. They shared a brief look, an acknowledgment of trust, before Bess was past him to check on her father.

  A smile crawled into his grimace as Selix made her way to him, one hand on the wall to support herself, stepping gingerly. The crimson stains on her shirt were wide and dark, but she was up and moving which was a good sign.

  When she reached him, Selix threw her arms around Lonnie’s neck, kissing his cheeks and his lips. His chin, too. He hugged her back, not too hard, taking her weight, which wasn’t much. Alarmingly little.

  “You okay?”

  “Yeah.” Selix lifted her shirt to show she’d cauterized her own wound.

  A set of doors near the elevator shaft flew open, and ECC commandos filed out and surrounded them. A team of four moved ahead toward the command center after Bess. Others issued commands, shouting. Lonnie didn’t care. He had Selix and his power, and they had their lives.

  They’d made it.

  He breathed in Selix’s cinnamon flavor. “Okay,” he said. “I think we earned a little rest.”

  “Can we go to a beach?”

  “Fuck yeah. Anything you want. Hey, you two okay?”

  Elsa still perched atop Krag's corpse, face buried in the whorchal's shredded shoulder (to the horror of the ECC commandos) no doubt filling herself with the ancient creature’s blood. Would it help her heal faster, become stronger?

  Crash raised his hand from where he slumped, breathing hard. “Not dead, yet.”

  “Well, you look it.”

  Lonnie received a middle finger in response.

  He gave Selix another hug, letting his hands run over her back, feeling every part of her. Her shoulder blades, hips, and ass, where she claimed all her cleavage was. He breathed her in again.

  “What? Do you love me or something?”

  “Yeah. Yeah, I do.”

  A commando stuck the muzzle of his rifle in their faces. Lonnie's eyes traced the intruding metal barrel until a huge man filled his field of vision. He was a big bastard. Not as big as crash, but a physical specimen nonetheless. Dusty head shaved bald, he glowered at them with dark eyes. “Get up."

  Lonnie waved him away. “Go talk to Bess. She’s got our free pass.”

  The man grinned, but it wasn’t a happy grin. “I don’t think so. Get up or I'm trashing you.”

  Elsa pulled her gory face out of Krag’s corpse and sized up the commando team. Crash straightened and flexed. Commandos spread out around them, looking sharp with their weapons. If Lonnie couldn’t rein things in quick, Bess might not have a chance to bail them out.

  “Hello?” A soft voice from behind them. “Excuse me. Hello?”

  Lonnie half-turned to see a woman dressed in a plain sweater and jeans, her light blond hair pulled into a tight ponytail, hands clasped in front of her as if welcoming them to a business meeting. She looked out of place in the gore-slicked hall. Lonnie guessed her age at somewhere in her mid-thirties.

  “Step away Steph,” the big commando said. “We’re clearing the area.”

  Steph stepped between Lonnie and the gun as if she could stop any potential slugs. “I’m afraid not, Alex. These are the people who helped us. These are Bess’s friends. They’re not to be harmed.”

  Alex chuckled. “C’mon, Miss Lark. You know the rules.”

  “Alex,” Steph’s expression turned stern, and it was comical to watch the demure woman try to evoke anger. “We have to trust Bess. Plus she said, and I quote, ‘If Rios has an issue with it, tell him to bring his shiny bald-headed ass to the control room.'”

  A wide grin broke out on Alex’s face, and he issued a single booming laugh. The point of his rifle raised to the ceiling, but he shot Lonnie a warning glare. “I’m leaving guards.”

  “Fine. Now go rescue medical and get us some God blessed help.”

  "Right." The big commando called a team of five grim looking soldiers to him, and they descended the stairs in an ordered line.

  With the immediate threat of being blown to pieces over, Steph smiled with practiced ease, although her eyes took in the messy scene with reserved fear. The gang must look a mess. Bloody and dangerous. Deadly.

  “I’m Stephanie Lark, part of the coordination team here at the ECC. Bess assures me you're friends? Please tell me I’m not wrong to have just sent off my best and only defense.”

  Lonnie chuckled. “We're not enemies, that's true. We fought with Bess in the Under River. She helped us, so we returned the favor. I hope it did some good.”

  Steph’s smile brightened a little, which Lonnie thought must be considerable for her. “Yes, indeed. You performed wonderfully. Thank you.”

  Lonnie nodded. Wasn't used to someone thanking him and meaning it. “Bess’s Father?”

  “We're doing the best we can. Once Alex clears the path to medical, we'll get him some real help.” Steph backed up a couple steps, inclined her head for them to follow, and then turned and walked at a clipped pace back to the control room.

  Lonnie looked at Selix, shrugged. “Want to stay, or bug out?”

  “Let’s stay. Bess came through for us. She’s a friend, right?”

  "Good question. I think so.”

  They hobbled the length of hallway together, following the ECC coordinator into a large room.

  After being knee-deep in shit the past few days, this place was immaculate. The walls were lined with a plethora of big screens displaying what was happening around the Citadel through cameras that hadn’t been burned or destroyed. Five buzzed with static. Others showed distant places, cities and countries. In front were control and communication stations, rows of flat screen monitors. ECC personnel sat in slick-looking, short-backed chairs staring at the newcomers with unease.

  “Wow,” Selix said, pointing to the far end of the room where a four foot square hologram of the Lexington Citadel revolved in three-dimensional relief. It showed everything from sub-level five up to three illuminated in various shades of red, yellow, and green.

  Their floor was green, and right before their eyes another sub-level lit a beautiful jade color.

  Steph clapped. “Praise God, medical is now open. Paul,” she called out to someone in the room. “Get a team up here asap.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  Steph smiled at Lonnie and Selix again, motioning them over to where a man rested on a cot. His hands lay across his bare stomach. He was shirtless, neck and shoulder covered in a thick, stained pad of gauze. Bess knelt on one side of the cot while another controller, who appeared to have medical training based on the stethoscope and blood pressure gauge he monitored, knelt opposite. Lonnie and Selix tried to stay out of the way.

  Bess looked up, her eyes red-rimmed. "Hey."

  "Hey," Selix replied. "How's he doing?"

  "As good as he can."

  Steph leaned in, whispering to Lonnie, “The doppelgänger tricked its way inside, using Mark’s weakness for his daughter. Most of us thought something was wrong right away, but Mark wouldn't hear it. The creature attacked him in the hall and secured a remote console. Then it used an SD card to release a virus into our network, crippling us. That’s when the assault started.”

  “You still have the doppelgänger?”

  “Yes, we do. Want to see it?”

  Lonnie watched Bess speaking to Selix, and his eyes slid to the man on the cot. Mark Winters was barely conscious. His dark skin was ashen, lips mumbling, but the guy seemed stable for now.

  “Sure.”

  “Okay.” Steph motioned for them to follow her.

  “I’ll stay.” Selix was already slipping out of his arm. “I’m just going to sit by Bess for awhile. I’m so tired.”

  Concerned, Lonnie brushed her hair out of her eyes and scrutinized their new gray color. “You sure?”

  “Yeah. I’m beat. Severing the tether was rough.”

  “Okay, but don’t move.” He hoped his expre
ssion held the right warning. Not for Selix to worry, but to reinforce that they were still in enemy territory.

  Selix nodded and plopped cross-legged near the cot.

  Lonnie turned, gave Steph an awkward grin, and followed her and another commando over to a secure door he hadn’t noticed before.

  “You folks been through a lot, huh?”

  The stiffness was setting in and causing Lonnie to limp. “Yeah, it’s been a rough day.”

  “We can have someone examine your hip after we see to Mark. Our facilities are top notch, complete with an x-ray and an MRI machine.”

  “Damn.”

  “We prefer blessed.”

  Lonnie chuckled. “Of course.”

  Steph led him to the door, punched in a code, and it opened with a loud click. She stood back and motioned for Lonnie to enter. He did, peeking into a combination storeroom and arsenal. Rows of canned goods, two huge stacked barrels of water, and a locked rack of rifles and other firearms filled the space.

  “I’m impressed.”

  “Thanks. It’s this way. In here. It’s the only place we had to put it.”

  Steph led them to the right where another coded door awaited. Her fingers tapped the keys, and she gave the commando a moment to get into position. The guy didn’t seem overly worried, but his top lip curled as he waited for Steph to pop the lock.

  “We don’t think it can harm anyone, but we’re not taking any chances.”

  “I understand,” Lonnie said, nodding.

  Steph hit one more key and opened the door. The soldier led with his rifle barrel, doing a quick check before gesturing for them to enter.

  Another long room filled with random supplies. A row of bunks rested in a neat line against the far wall. Lonnie walked between shelves, sweeping his left hand over his right, calling forth what remained of his sluggish, exhausted power.

  “If you know what it is,” Steph’s voice shook as she followed, “please illuminate us.”

  Lonnie smelled the thing before he saw it, a putrid reek, like a wound that’s dressing hadn’t been changed in days, the scents of mold and mildew thrown on top.

  As they got closer, he noticed a pair of boots similar to Bess’s on the nearest cot, legs covered in dark jeans stuck into them. Lonnie took another hesitant step, and a Bess-shaped form revealed itself. The figure even wore the same type of T-shirt the 'Venger might wear. Some obscure Gothic band dressed in Puritan black and sporting short, spiked hair.

  The body was shaking, jerking around in its leather straps. The hands, once as dark as coffee beans, had turned ashen and faded, as if they’d been soaking in bleach for days. Tendrils slipped from beneath its fingernails and wormed their way into the mattress like creeper vines. A pasty substance soaked its clothes, the source of the pungency.

  “Quite remarkable,” Steph said next to him, once again in control of her voice. “We had an idea they could do this because they've tried it before, but our command policies and procedures worked as a filter. They couldn’t get our codes or infiltrate our facilities and communication systems.”

  “But this time they did.”

  “Yes. They used hackers to fashion a virus before sending this blasphemy to us. Guess you could say they finally put it together.”

  “They sure did,” Lonnie agreed.

  He needed to gaze upon the doppelgänger’s face, needed to see how close they’d come to mimicking Bess. It was a morbid curiosity, he supposed.

  He took two quick steps, instantly regretting it. The creature on the bed was a rough estimation of Bess. The same dark chocolate eyes stared at him, empty of emotion. Her skin had a melted, waxy appearance, hair falling away in patches. The thing shuddered where it lay, arms and legs jerking, chest hitching, lips quivering as viscous fluids seeped from every orifice, the same pasty stuff that soaked through its clothing. It was dying, decomposing, eating itself from the inside out.

  “It appears to have an expiration date.”

  “Yes, a few days at the most.”

  “Dad…Da-Daddy, the thing warbled in a voice that sounded like a beat up speaker filled with syrup. “Hey, Da-Dad. It’s…B-Bess. Puh-Praise God in His…G-g-glory.”

  Steph drew a sharp breath. “I hate when it does that. It’s a horrible, ungodly thing.”

  “I can’t disagree with that.”

  “The science division wants to keep it alive to study, but if it was up to me…”

  “I’d love to put a bullet in it, too. Hell, Bess might even want to kill it herself.”

  “Well, you can stand here as long as you like, but I can't look at it any longer. We have a lot to—”

  “Dad! Dad, no!” That was the real Bess crying out, voice filled with anguish.

  Lonnie’s heart dropped into his stomach and he followed the rushing Steph and the commando out of the storage room, leaving the weird, dying thing behind.

  Chapter 37

  The control room was like a tomb. Everyone went about their work with stoic aplomb or sobbed quietly. Some sat in their chairs with their faces in their hands. It made Lonnie wonder what kind of man Bess’s father was to have affected so many people this way.

  Elsa and Crash had been ushered in, still under guard, and stood to the side, taking in the scene with flat expressions.

  Bess knelt by her father, one hand on his unmoving chest, the other held out and gesturing wildly to Steph. “Where’s the medical team? They should be here.”

  Someone else answered. “The elevators are inoperable. Rios is escorting them up the stairs now, clearing pockets of resistance—”

  “I don’t give a damn about the resistance. Tell them to get up here—” Bess’s voice cracked, “now!”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  Selix knelt next to Bess, one hand resting on her back. Her eyes slipped to Lonnie, full of hurt.

  A gulp filled his throat as he swallowed for the 'Venger. To see her falling apart in front of him, from the trained woman who could handle anything to complete helplessness. It broke Lonnie’s heart, reminding him of the time he’d found his mother’s desecrated body out in the desert by the Boiling Sea, dumped there like trash.

  Bess’s eyes darted around the room, then fell to her father again. She accepted the dispatcher’s explanation of the slow moving medical team, but that didn’t mean she was waiting. No, far from it. She checked his pulse again, put her ear to his nose and listened to for a breath, then rose over him and placed her hands together on his sternum, pressing one…two…three times, and blowing twice into his mouth.

  Bess performed the procedure again and again as the distant sounds of gunfire reached their ears.

  The medical team was too late, but Bess didn’t care. She continued to work, breathing in tight gasps as she worked to keep her father’s heart going.

  Steph approached, leaning in. “Bess?”

  “Don’t even try it.” Bess rose, threw off her jacket, and went at it again. The muscles of her arms and shoulders strained with smooth efficiency. Lonnie knew she wouldn’t quit until she collapsed, and that might be a long damn time.

  “God, no. God, please,” Bess murmured.

  Lonnie fought back tears. He was angry that Bess’s god had done this to her. Wanted to lash out at these idiots for thinking they’d be saved if they only believed. But it was the 'Venger way, and Lonnie had to respect that. As hard as this was for Bess now, it was part of her god’s plan.

  At least that’s what they’d tell themselves.

  Steph knelt next to Bess, determined to end her suffering. For all of them. “He’s gone home, honey. He’s gone back to God’s house. I’m so sorry. We loved him so much. He was a good man.”

  “No.” Bess pushed the woman away, putting Steph on her ass at Lonnie’s feet.

  More silence as Bess continued her work, the wet, sobbing faces of the room’s operatives taking on expressions of horror as they realized she was trying to save a dead man.

  “Let me try,” said a small voice.


  Panic gripped Lonnie’s throat, and he started forward, fully intending to snatch Selix up and drag her the fuck out of there. But Selix gave him a glance, eyes beaming, the edges that were ash-colored before now refilled with blue.

  That look terrified him, yet he couldn't move. He was rooted to the spot, drained of his will. Selix's magic, somehow.

  He mouthed, “no,” and shook his head.

  Selix pursed her lips for a moment, smiled her private smile, and nudged Bess out of the way.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Just, let me try.”

  Bess tensed but relented, scooting aside to give the dragon voice room.

  Selix passed Lonnie another glance (he hadn’t stopped shaking his head in protest) but her expression was breezy and clear, not a care in the world. Seemed happy. Exhausted, yes. Wounded, clearly. But as sure of herself as he'd ever seen her.

  “Your father’s name is Mark?”

  “Yes. Mark Winters.”

  “That’s a nice name. I like it.”

  Selix hummed in a cadence that swung back-and-forth. Soft, but with the growing weight of a three ton pendulum. It was a sound that pulled Lonnie in, pulled them all in, and a sudden hush fell over the room.

  Her fingers played along the man’s gray chest hair, lingered over his heart, making a gentle rubbing motion.

  Steph stood, her lips pressed together, eyes concerned and offended. “What are you going to do?”

  Selix didn’t respond. Kept on singing. Kept on filling the confines with her power.

  The ECC coordinator put her hand on Bess’s shoulder. “Honey, I don’t think—”

  Bess shook her off. “Get back, Steph. Give her room. I've seen what she can do.”

  The monitors burst with crackles and spitting static, causing everyone to jump. Everyone but Lonnie, who only wanted to break this spell and drag her skinny ass away. And he'd give her an earful once they were far away from here. You could bet on that.

  Selix’s voice lifted in a note that was everything and oblivion together, held aloft briefly before fading into a soft vibrato that rattled the air. The sound reminded Lonnie of the first time he’d ever laid eyes on her.