by Leo Romero
I gave the carriage a hard push and let go. It raced off down the steps, Seamus’ face wide with horror as it went. It reached the bottom of the stairwell where it toppled over, sending Seamus and the contents sprawling. Gold coins rolled around on the concrete in neat circles around Seamus’ prone body.
I scampered down the steps after it, my wide eyes looking all around. Raul still lay on the floor, out for the count. Our new guy was nearby, lying flat on his stomach, his eyes closed. There was no one else. But I knew it wouldn’t stay that way for long.
I made it down the steps and looked around with frantic eyes. Gold lay all over the floor. Seamus was rubbing his head, with eyes zoning in and out.
“Grab your gold, Shay, we’re leaving!” I snatched the carriage and turned it upright. I began plucking gold coins from the floor like Super Mario on speed. I slung them back into the carriage with Seamus doing the same, hopping across the floor like an agitated frog grabbing up coins.
All the while I was wary of more guys coming up from below. Luckily, they didn’t. I slung the last coin back in the carriage and grabbed the handle.
“Oh no, ye don’t!” snapped Seamus.
I faced him. “What?”
He went and jumped up onto the carriage. “Now ye can go,” he said, facing ahead of us.
I grumbled under my breath and got moving, rolling the carriage past our two unconscious friends toward the stairwell heading down, the carriage wheels squeaking like mice. I looked down the stairwell. It was clear. The loud hum of machinery was emanating from below. I assessed the situation. The only real way out for us was through the front entrance, which was down there. I had no idea if the alarm had been raised, but it was only a matter of time before someone came up here, so we had no choice but to go down to the ground floor. How we were gonna make it across that courtyard crawling with guys was another matter entirely. We’d have to cross that bridge when we got to it. First, we had to get out of this damn warehouse.
I stared down those steps, half-expecting to see guys rushing our way. But the coast was clear. I wasn’t gonna look a gift horse in the mouth. We needed to get outta there.
Seamus began hopping up and down. “Come on, boyo, get us outta here!” he urged, reading my mind.
I got going, pushing the carriage down the steps, lifting the front wheels into the air and letting the back ones fall down one step at a time. I made it halfway and the warehouse floor came into view. My jaw dropped. Massive vats stood to attention at regular intervals, steam hissing outta them. Guys decked in hazmat suits stood with their backs turned to us, collecting a clear liquid from the vats in trays where they were sent on a conveyor belt around for other guys to pick up and take through to another part of the warehouse that was lit up neon-blue. Big bottles of multicolored liquid were dotted around. Things bubbled away like a witch’s cauldron. Machinery whirred. Open laptops attached to the machines blinked and buzzed. It was like a scene from Breaking Bad.
Holy moly, they were producing enough crystal meth to take over the world!
That wasn’t my concern right then. I needed to get outta there in one piece. I scanned the floor till I found the entrance. My eyes fell on the thin metal shutter that was pulled up, exposing the courtyard outside. It was straight ahead, nice and easy. The thing was unguarded, which seemed crazy to me. But I wasn’t complaining. I seized the opportunity and got moving, one step at a time again, the ongoing noise around us covering any sound we were making. Luckily, everyone was too busy with what they were doing to notice us coming down the stairs. We reached the bottom and my heart began to race. I tightened my grip on the carriage handle and made a beeline straight for the entrance, having a final quick look over my shoulder. No one noticed us. Excitement burst in my chest. Now all we had to do was—
Seamus screeched and my head spun back ahead of me. I pulled up, my eyes bulging. A line of guys were now huddled in the entrance, guns in hand. Seamus gasped and dived into the carriage for cover. I spun away, only to be met with more armed guys racing through the warehouse floor toward us. They’d ambushed us. My excitement frazzled away into dejection. I came to a halt, my shoulders slumping. I slowly turned to face the guys gathered in the entrance.
I ran my eyes across the tattooed necks and faces ahead of me. “Hi,” I said with a toothy grin.
The guys behind circled us, aiming their guns right at us. I tried my best to keep my eyes on them all, but we were surrounded. From inside the buggy, Seamus let out a cowardly whine while I grumbled under my breath. Stupid me, thinking it would be a clean escape. I should’ve known better by now.
The muzzle of a gun was prodded in my back. “Vamos!” the guy prodding me said. They’d cleared the entrance, so I was guessing he wanted me to go outside. With a hot breath, I snatched up the handlebar of the carriage and began rolling it toward the open shutter. I made it outside where more armed assholes were waiting for us. I slowly rolled the carriage out onto the concrete courtyard, that squeaky wheel the only thing audible. There was a rasp as the metal shutter was closed. It had been a trap the whole time; they wanted to lure me through that open shutter using it like cheese on a mouse trap.
I sighed to myself and looked around the courtyard. Cartel guys were everywhere. There must have been thirty of them, all surrounding us. They stared at me with anger-riddled-faces as hard as stone, their lips curled back, their tattooed faces mean, hard. Above us all, the moon bathed us in its mystic light.
Seamus popped his head out of the buggy. “What are we going to do, Gabriel?” he asked, his eyes glimmering with fear.
“Just leave the talking to me,” I replied in a hot whisper.
As I did, a guy came sauntering out of the throng, an older guy, with bits of gray on the sides of his hair, a goatee, and pockmarked cheeks. Carlos Ortega AKA El Lobo. El jefe. “Gabriel Stone, you asshole,” he growled in a cigar-choked voice.
“Hey, Lobo,” I said with a grin. “Nice night tonight, huh?”
Lobo stopped ahead of us, causing Seamus to tremble. Lobo cocked his head to the side. “Don’t give me any crap, chico. What are you doing here? I’m hoping that you’ve come to bring me my money so I don’t have to tear open your punk ass.”
I raised a finger in the air. “Actually, Lobo, I really wanted to speak to you about that.”
Lobo cupped a hand over his ear. “Huh? What are you saying? You’ll have to speak up. I’m hard of hearing now thanks to you, pendejo.”
I sighed. “Yeah, sorry about that, Lobo. I’ve seriously got no idea where that siren popped up from. I mean I was about to hand over your money, when from nowhere that crazy bitch appeared and started screaming at’cha. I mean if it was me—”
Lobo released a guttural growl that sounded like starved dogs in hell, shutting me up mid-sentence. I gulped. I didn’t wanna piss him off in case he changed. Then I’d be in the doo doo big time.
“So you’re here now. Give me my money,” Lobo ordered.
“Well, you see, Lobo, I’ve got your money, but at the same time haven’t got it.”
“What? What are you saying?” Lobo leaned his ear in closer, cupping his hand over it.
Man, this was like a comedy skit. I cleared my throat. “I’ll have your money soon,” I said loud and slow like I was talking to a ninety-eight year old. “I’m working on this juicy contract right now. Big time demon running around Chicago that’s like a giant diamond, trust me on this. I’m on my way to bag him. So if you’d let us pass, I’ll go send the demon back to Hell, collect my reward and I’ll be back in the blink of an eye with your money.”
Lobo stared at me with his dark eyes, his top lip curled back. I stood there grinning like an idiot. I was suddenly asking myself, ‘why oh why would I borrow money from the cartel?’ Then, I remembered: it was to buy Lucy a gold diamond ring hoping it would make her happy. Holy moly, was I a total chump or what?
Lobo placed his hands on his waist. “Amigo, are you trying to me you don’t have my money?”
> “No no, I’ve got it! Just...not yet.”
Lobo threw his arms over his chest. He began nodding. He had a quick look around his guys. “Hmm. Now I comprender. You came here without my money, but you’re leaving with something.” His eyes rolled down to the buggy. “What’s in the buggy, chico?”
I swallowed. “Er... A...leprechaun.”
“A what?”
“A leprechaun, ye big dummy!” Seamus said, jumping up from the buggy.
Lobo flinched back and some of his guys raised their guns. Everything got aggroed for a second and I raised my hands. “It’s okay. It’s just a lep. And he’s got a strange sense of humor.”
Seamus spun to face me. “Who are ye calling a lep?”
“Not the time, Shay!” I growled between my clenched teeth.
Lobo gasped. “Hey, Chico!”
I met Lobo’s stare, which was fixed on the buggy. White gold glittered up at him. I rolled my eyes in irritation. Lobo reached in a hand toward the gold.
Seamus saw it and swatted it away. “Keep yer mitts off!”
Lobo scowled in pain. His guys stormed in, shouting, waving guns around.
I threw up my hands. “Hey, hey, everyone calm down!” I glared down at Seamus. “You’re gonna get us killed!”
Seamus laid eyes on the guns now in his face. “Ye may be right, boyo. I think I’ll just shut me mouth from now on.”
I sent Seamus a nasty grin. “That would be so nice of you, Shay.” I looked back at Lobo and put on a more pleasant smile.
Lobo stepped in closer. He reached in again toward the gold. Seamus eyed him the whole way, his lips trembling in anger. Lobo snatched a coin and lifted it up to the moonlight. He nodded in appreciation. “Looks like you brought me my money after all, huh, amigo?” he said and let out a hearty laugh. His guys joined in and it was a chorus of haughty cackles that grated on my nerves. Lobo threw the coin back into the buggy. “Grab the buggy!” he ordered.
A couple of guys grabbed hold of the carriage handle and yanked it from my grip. I watched them in bemusement. What, they were gonna take the gold? The only bargaining chip I had with Bracken to get Aurora and my weapons back? The gold I’d been through all this crap to get to, following damn rainbows across Chicago? No way!
I laid eyes on Lobo’s smug face and a surge of anger overcame me, making me lose any sense of diplomacy. I went and gave the guy who was pushing the carriage a hard shove. He bundled into Lobo, who stumbled and fell on his back with a grunt.
And then all hell broke loose.
Lobo snapped his head up toward me. Incandescent rage twisted his face. His eyes flashed a sickly yellow. His nose abruptly elongated into a snout, his ears shooting skyward. He opened up his jaw and razor-sharp fangs ruptured from his gums. He hopped onto his haunches as his shoulders and back hunched and bulked like he’d been pumped full of air. His thighs tore from his pants, hairy and muscular. He rose up into the night, now standing over seven feet tall. He towered over me, a raging, hulking beast now covered in thick, black fur, a massive streak of silver rippling down his back.
He raised his glistening snout to the moon and howled. He shot his claws up in the air, his mighty talons, hard like glass, curled inward. His howl shook through me like wind, sending my nerve endings jangling. And then all around it was the same. Cartel guys tearing outta their clothes like they were the Incredible Hulk as they metamorphosized into colossal man-beasts of brown, black and dark gray. Claws and fangs bared to kill, spurred on by the moon bathing them in its potent light, electrifying them with power as they grew out of themselves, doubling in size. The hot grunts and howls bolting from them was a chorus of dread, the sounds tearing through the night. I spun around, taking them all in. Super werewolves supercharged by the full moon, standing on hind legs, taking the shape of giant men, their arms and legs rippling with muscle. Infra-red eyes bore into me from all angles, guttural sounds of hunger erupting from their thick chests. They watched us, hunkered over, ready to pounce at any moment and tear us limb from limb. There was one thing I knew and that was you didn’t mess with a super werewolf. And right now, we had around thirty of em on our case.
“Gabriel,” Seamus said in a terrified voice, grabbing hold of my leg.
Man, I wished Aurora was here, she’d take care of these suckers in a second. One siren blast and these sensitive-eared assholes would be KO. I turned tentatively to the left and one snarled at me, making me flinch. To the right, one bared his teeth. Ahead, another rose up full height, literally blocking out the mighty moon. It thumped its chest with hammer-like fists and howled, the noise thrumming my eardrums.
I began thinking hard. I flipped through the cards of my Deck of Death in my mind, assessing what creatures I had available to me that would be effective against these monsters. I needed something that wasn’t flesh-based as these guys would tear it apart. Something stone or wood or... My eyes lit up. I had the perfect thing. I jammed my hand in my pocket and pulled out the deck. I flipped through the cards with sweaty hands. Come on, come on! Where are you?
Lobo released a howl straight from Hell and that was the call to attack. Seamus screamed as werewolves bounded in. And then I found it. The ten of clubs. I threw it down on the concrete. “Boneheads!” I shouted. All around us doorways to the Void opened up, causing the ground to tremble. The werewolves stopped in their tracks and began looking around, their ears turning left and right like satellite dishes trying to get a signal.
Out of the portals jumped members of the skeleton army known as the Boneheads, dark creations of a twisted necromancer called Zoltaire, who made them specifically for me in exchange for hunting a wax demon he’d summoned by mistake. He begged me not to take him in to the Guild for crimes against Divine Law, and so I made him a deal. You create me a supernatural army, and I won’t tell the Guild. In seconds, he whipped up the Boneheads and here they were, summoned to the cartel stronghold to fight against super werewolves on a full moon. Heaven forgive me.
I watched everything with wide eyes. Giant werewolves interspersed with walking skeletons armed to the teeth with scimitars, shields, spears and scythes. They glared at the werewolves with their vacant eyes, perma-grins on their faces, their shields embossed with their skull emblem.
I caught Lobo’s shocked stare as he laid eyes on the skeleton army. He backed up, feral grunts and spittle flying from his mouth.
I sucked in a huge breath. “Boneheads!” I bellowed. “Attack!”
On command, the skeletons leaped into life, silent roars bolting from their jaws. They advanced on the nearest thing, their weapons raised. One swung a wooden club through the air, connecting with a werewolf’s hide. The ensuing roar tore the night in two.
Lobo whirled in a circle of fury. He let out a hellish roar and pounded across the courtyard, leaping toward the nearest skeleton. He pounced on the skeleton, who didn’t have time to react. Lobo’s mighty claws penetrated its ribcage and the skeleton slammed back on the ground. Any flesh on those bones would’ve been shredded, but good old Boney was built for this very type of fight. It hit the concrete with a clatter, its teeth chattering. Lobo went to work, swatting it left and right with his talons, but it was no good. Boney was soaking it all up like a sponge, his gnarly bones getting barely scratched. As Boney could feel no pain, he could attack whilst being attacked. While Lobo fruitlessly tore away, Boney cut his scimitar across the air. It jammed into Lobo’s side, drawing blood as black as night. Lobo wailed in agony and immediately jumped off Boney, who got back up to his bony feet in an instant, taking up an attack stance. Lobo warily backed off like a threatened dog, his glowing eyes fixed on Boney.
A smile broke out on my face. All around us was the same. It was chaos on the abandoned courtyard. The click of bones interspersed with hot growling. The pounding of huge feet as werewolves bounded around, trying to get away from the crazed skeletons who wouldn’t let up in their pursuit of wolf. It was hunting season!
I watched spears coldly penetrate rough hides, cl
ubs battering down on pointy ears, scimitars slicing across furry chests. Howls and black blood filled the air. Me and Seamus stood there while the chaos ensued around us. A path opened up ahead of us and my eyes widened. I grabbed the handle of the buggy. “Let’s go, Shay!”
Seamus jumped up into the carriage once more. I ducked over the handle and ran as fast as I could, that squeaky wheel adding to the cacophony. It was like running through a war zone. A werewolf pounded across our path, an insane skeleton right on his tail, its sword raised. Over to the right, a trio of skeletons were beating on a werewolf sprawled on his back, his colossal limbs thrashing out at them to no avail. To the left I watched Lobo swing a sledgehammer-like arm at a skeleton, sending it flying across the lawn. It immediately jumped to its feet and got back to work as if nothing happened. Boy, these guys were tough!
We made it three-quarters across the courtyard when a werewolf pounced toward us. I veered off track, just as he was about to land on us. Seamus screamed. From the opposite direction, a skeleton drilled through the air like a torpedo, meeting the werewolf head on. It clattered into the beast, sending his attack off target. Both of them landed on the concrete ahead of us in a conjoined heap.
I breathed a sigh of relief, moving around them and scampering along. We’d almost cleared the courtyard when I had a quick glance over my shoulder to check on proceedings. To my horror, one of the werewolves had a massive sledgehammer in his grip. He swung it across the air, catching a skeleton in the ribs. They shattered on impact, the top half of the skeleton falling to the concrete while the legs remained standing. They teetered for a second or two and crashed to the ground. The werewolf raised the sledgehammer high into the night. What was left of the skeleton watched up from the ground, helpless. It shook its skull, pleading to be spared. But the werewolf wasn’t the forgiving type. With a roar, he slammed the sledgehammer down on that skull, obliterating it. Howls of victory erupted like a demonic choir.
