by Erik Lynd
Hamlin made a decision. He went into the room, shutting the double doors behind him as quietly as he could.
“Hamlin, he’s heading in that direction; he might be coming to that room. What is it?”
Good question. Hamlin turned to see where he was taking refuge.
This was the first room that had a look of age. Most of the walls were covered with intricately carved bookshelves and cabinets. To one side a large leather couch and chair sat near a massive fireplace that looked like it had been stolen from a medieval castle. Old rugs covered the hardwood floor; they looked antique as did most of the furniture in the room, including the oversized desk in front of the window with a sweeping view of the city.
On that desk was a monitor and a keyboard that looked like it was designed for hands twice the size of his.
“Bingo,” Hamlin whispered. “I think we found his study.”
“Tell me there’s a computer?”
“Big and beautiful,” Hamlin said. He walked behind the desk and set down the laptop. There it was, a black box just humming along in the dark beneath the desk.
“Oh fuck, Golyat had stopped at another room, but now he is coming there. He’s moving fast, and he’s not alone.”
Hamlin stood up, looking for another exit. On the edge of his peripheral vision, he saw something. There mounted on the corner was a small camera.
“I thought you said no cameras in this room,” Hamlin said.
“I don’t see it on any network; it must be a separate private system. Fuck, there could be all sorts of alarms. Run!”
Hamlin didn’t need to be told twice. There was one other door out of the room, he made for it as fast as his bruised body would let him. His hand was on the handle twisting the knob when the door flew open. It slammed into him with unnatural force knocking him back. He stumbled over the chair behind him, his injuries making him too slow to catch himself. He tumbled over it and to the ground, scrambling for his pistol.
One of the mystically tattooed guards came through the door. This one was shirtless, his heavily muscled skin shimmering with the writhing ink. He was grinning. Hamlin had his gun out and brought it up. Then the tattooed man was on him, moving faster than Hamlin thought possible. He wrenched the pistol from Hamlin’s hands before he even had a chance to squeeze the trigger.
A blurred shadow shot from the darkness behind the desk and slammed into the tattooed man. With a roar, Hellcat raked her claws across the man’s face and chest, disrupting the flow of the tattoos. He cried out and tried to fight off the massive beast with his bare hands. It was like playing mercy with a food processor. There was no doubt that man had supernatural strength, but it was no match for the demon cat.
Hamlin crawled to his gun just as the large double doors flew open. Golyat stood in the doorway, filling the entire frame with his bulk, calmly assessing the situation. His eyes flicked from where Hamlin lay on the floor to the massive panther mauling his soldier. Then he strode over to Hellcat and with both meaty hands grabbed her by the scruff and tossed her across the room as though she weighed no more than a fur coat.
She hit the ground on all fours like any respectable cat, but the momentum sent her slamming into the fireplace. Hamlin could do the math. As powerful as she was, she was no match for Golyat one on one. Of course, she was of another opinion. Hellcat roared and prepared for another leap. Golyat stood calmly waiting for the attack. It would be suicide and it would be because of him.
Ignoring the pain, he sat up enough to wrap his arms around her neck and whispered fiercely into her ear. “No! You must find Chris.”
She seemed to be ignoring him, her eyes on Golyat, but she didn’t lunge.
“You come into my house, into my world. You grow too bold, and don’t think you won’t pay the price. Where is the Hunter?” Golyat said. He was taking off his suit coat and folding it neatly on a chair next to him. Then he calmly rolled up a sleeve. Hellcat watched him warily, a low growl in her throat.
“Go, find the kid. I can get out of this. You have to help protect him,” Hamlin whispered in her ear. She looked at him one last time and licked his face. Despite all that had happened, he smiled.
She roared as loud as he had ever heard her in a mighty challenge, then she dove into the shadows and was gone.
And just like that it was over. Hamlin debated even trying for his gun, it would be useless against this dark soul. He had failed, at best they would kill him; at worst, try to use him as bait. For a moment he toyed with the idea of grabbing his gun and killing himself. At least then Golyat wouldn’t have a bargaining chip.
The tattooed guard was faster. He stepped over Hamlin to retrieve the gun. He was bleeding from a dozen deep claw marks across his face and chest, but he seemed unfazed as he picked it up and grinned down at him. He wasn’t weak from blood loss. From his crazed grin it was almost as though he enjoyed the gore, even if it was his own.
Then a thick rough hand wrapped around his throat and he was lifted into the air like a ragdoll. Golyat held him at eye level and glared at him. His giant hand tightened around his neck and made it hard to breathe. Hamlin pulled at it out of reflex. It was like clawing at stone.
This was the first time Hamlin had seen Golyat face to face, and he realized he was staring straight into the face of a monster. Golyat’s eyes were filled with red lines and bulged slightly as though anger raged just behind his calm exterior straining to get out. Heat radiated from his body as though some sort of furnace of hatred burned inside of him. Still, his outside image radiated coldness. Hamlin realized it was only iron discipline keeping that monster in check. Just one slip and he’d be fucking Godzilla in the city.
“You can’t be alone? Who would be that stupid?” Golyat pulled him closer and Hamlin could smell the rot on his breath. “You are that police detective that he uses right? You were supposed to lead him into my trap, not trip it yourself.”
He laughed a mirthless laugh devoid of all joy. “Is he such a coward? Does he trust you so much?”
Hamlin didn’t say anything; he was too busy trying to suck in air through this tightening throat
“What have you caught Golyat?” asked a voice from behind him.
Over the giant’s shoulder Hamlin saw a teenage girl, maybe fourteen or fifteen. Her face had dark splotches that Hamlin realized were fading bruises. She was wearing pink pajama pants and a t-shirt that said ‘I’m not always a bitch! Sometimes I’m a psycho!’
This must be Grace.
“What are you doing down here, Grace?” Golyat asked. “You should be in your room.”
“What, I’m being confined to my room now? That’s so not cool. I heard the private alarm and came to check it out.”
Hamlin saw irritation flash across Golyat’s face. Hamlin almost laughed; apparently being an evil escapee soul from Hell with immense power and wealth didn’t exempt you from teenage attitude.
“We’ve had a visit from our friend’s associate. Looks like he couldn’t be bothered to come himself, so he has sent an expendable.”
Several other tattooed guards were coming into the room. Hamlin was amazed he had made it as far as he had. Juan had led him skillfully.
Juan! Hamlin realized he wasn’t hearing him. Now he could feel the earpiece was no longer in his ear. Hamlin had a small moment of panic. It must have fallen out when he fell over the chair. If they found it, they would know he wasn’t alone and would start looking for whoever was on the other end.
Despite suddenly being very alone, falling out was probably the best thing to happen. They would have found it when they searched him, but they won’t find a device as tiny as a speck on the carpet.
“What are you going to do with him?” Grace asked.
“Eventually kill him, but we’ll question him first. Learn what we can about this new Hunter and this small…” he paused as though searching for the right word, “Pathetic team. If they even can be called that.”
Hamlin was able to squeeze some air through his th
roat. “This pathetic team stopped your Days of Chaos and returned a lot of you people back to Hell.”
He used a lot of air, but he felt it was worth it. The fire behind Golyat’s eyes seemed to burn brighter for a moment. With a sound of disgust, he threw Hamlin to the hard ground. It was a casual gesture, but Hamlin felt like he had been struck by a bus. Golyat was above him. Hamlin felt like a kick was coming, one that would crush him into a pulp.
“Let me take him Golyat,” Grace said softly, her voice suddenly dripping with honey rather than sarcasm. Her eyes flicked up and down Hamlin like she was inspecting a bug. Despite that, her words calmed him. Suddenly everything was going to be all right.
Golyat frowned and turned partway toward Grace. “Why? What can you do that my doctors cannot?”
Hamlin didn’t like the way he said doctors; he was pretty sure they weren’t your usual Hippocratic oath taking type of doctors.
“I can practice.” She stepped closer to Hamlin still looking at him with those piercing eyes. But the voice, it made him warm. She was just a kid, she was no harm. He hoped Golyat would give him to her.
Wait! What the fuck was he saying?
A small change passed over Golyat and his frown softened. “You could use the practice I suppose. But no killing him. We might need him as bait.”
It was worst case, torture and then bait. He hadn’t even completed his mission. They had nothing on what Golyat was up to. He had failed.
One of the tattoo guards picked up the laptop from the desk. “He brought this computer with him.”
“Well then, maybe it won’t be just torture that gives us information,” Golyat said and gestured aimlessly to the other half of the penthouse. “Take it to the security room, run some scans and see what you can find on it. Meanwhile, take the detective to Grace’s lab and secure him however she wants. Remember Grace, have some fun and get what you can from him, but don’t accidentally kill him.”
19
Juan held the earphones close to his head as he listened. He had heard the earpiece fall from Hamlin, but it was sensitive enough to pick up the general conversation in the room if he turned it up enough. He was able to make out the sound of Hellcat arriving and attacking as well as the thump of her being thrown to the ground. He listened through the scuffle and the conversation, trying to pick up on every little detail.
He breathed a sigh of relief when he figured out they weren’t going to be killing Hamlin on the spot. And again when he realized they didn’t see the earpiece. He knew he should leave, it would make sense for them to search for an accomplice even if they thought Hamlin acted alone. But he had to watch as long as he could.
He could follow where they were taking Hamlin. They had taken his cell phone of course, but he noted which ones were the guards and could track their movement if he stayed at the computer. If he could pinpoint where Hamlin was kept, Chris could use this information. If he could get ahold of Chris.
He glanced up through the tinted windshield at the front of the van. Men in suits like executive bodyguards, were coming out of the main doors. Several had tattoos covering bald heads. These stood apart from the other security guards; they were working together, but it was obvious who was in charge. They were spreading out from the building.
Fuck!
Juan turned back to the computer, the guards holding Hamlin were still walking, slowly which meant they must be holding him.
“Hurry the fuck up!” Juan growled. He glanced out the window again. The guards were coming closer. They were at the end of the block. One of the tattooed guards had spotted the van. He called to the others and they all focused on the vehicle.
There were people on the streets, but it wasn’t crowded. What few people got in the way they gently shoved to the side. There were three of them, and as Juan watched they reached under their jackets, for guns no doubt.
He turned back to the screen. They had taken Hamlin to the top floor. He didn’t have a complete floor plan, but it was going to have to be good enough. Time to get out of here.
He slid into the driver’s seat and turned the ignition at the same time glancing out of the window. The guards were gone. That caused Juan to pause for a moment. Where did they go? They didn’t just disappear.
Tap, tap.
Outside the passenger window, a tattoo guard smiled at him and waved. Then he punched through the glass. The heavy, reinforced, bulletproof glass Juan had installed. Juan screamed as the guard ripped the door off. Now the guard grinned at him from the open door.
Juan hit the gas and the engine revved, but he went nowhere, the van was still in park.
“Fuck!” Juan yelled as he scrambled the gear shift. He was used to the shifter being on the floor and with a psychopath about to jump in the car, he wasn’t thinking too clearly. His hands flailed for a moment looking for the nonexistent shifter.
The tattooed guard lunched forward hands outstretched, coming for Juan’s throat. But then the man stopped abruptly mid-lunge. His eyes went wide in a combination of surprise and terror. Then he screamed.
With a growling rumble around her mouthful, he was yanked out of the van violently by Hellcat.
“Yeah motherfucker! What a good kitty!” Juan yelled through a huge grin.
Hellcat pulled the tattooed man from the passenger seat and whipped him toward the curb. The man’s face skidded across the cement and smashed into the concrete with a sickening thunk. A chunk of the man’s thigh also came off, ripped away by Hellcat’s vice-like jaw.
“Woohoo!” Juan yelled like an overexcited cheerleader.
Then the window shattered behind his head and a tattooed arm as thick as a python snaked around his throat. He was yanked back and almost out the window, but managed to grab an exposed metal support strip inside the roof of the van and temporarily stopped his backward trajectory.
Unfortunately, that meant the arm could cinch up easier. Abruptly the air to his lungs and the blood flow to his brain was cut off. Instantly the world started going black. He would pass out in seconds, already his grip was loosening on the metal rail.
Then he saw dents forming on the roof and heard the steel groaning in protest as something large and heavy strode across it. Claws pierced the the steel as she crossed.
There was a cry from behind him and the arm loosened. Then a roar followed by a sickening crunch just behind his ear. The arm went slack as the body fell away, missing a head.
Juan spun around in the chair until he was once again facing forward. Two more men, one a tattoo guard staring defiantly at the gigantic black panther on top of the van, the other a mortal security guard eyes wide in terror as he brought his assault rifle to bear on Hellcat.
He opened fire as Hellcat leaped at them. A hand full of rounds hit her, but Juan was pretty sure they would have little effect on a creature made of shadow and Hell. At least that’s what he hoped.
She slammed into both, her rear claws tearing into the man’s chest, spraying blood on the cars slamming to a halt in the street. Her front claws raked against the tattooed guard’s chest, but he had moved with much faster reflexes than the mortal and instead of being torn open, he was sent spinning onto the curb.
It was time to leave, this was his chance. Juan gunned the van and drove up on the sidewalk to avoid the suddenly stopped traffic on the road. Pedestrians dove out of the way. Luckily the foot traffic was light around here today, and between his driving and their jumping, he managed to not hit anyone.
He banged his hand against the door panel as he passed Hellcat, who was warily watching the tattooed man get slowly to his feet.
“Come on girl,” Juan called. When she glanced at him he tapped the roof. “Come on, time to go before the police show or more of those tattooed freaks.” With what seemed like a reluctant growl she turned from the recovering man and leaped onto the roof of the moving van.
Her claws dug into the thickened metal. And he gunned it. As soon as he cleared the traffic jam of parked cars he careened back onto the
street. He heard Hellcat skitter a little as he made some violent twists and turns, but she held on, although he was certain she was shredding the roof like it was the arm of a couch.
Juan raced down the street with the giant panther on the roof. So much for not attracting attention. Once he was a few blocks away from the building, he pulled over and opened the rear doors.
“Get in here girl,” Juan said making sure no one could see him.
He hadn’t seen any cameras yet, but that doesn’t mean they won’t pop up. Hellcat had her own kind of internet fame. There was even a Kickstarter for stuffed animal versions of her. What the hell was the world coming too? But it did make him wonder about setting up a Kickstarter for an action hero figure version of himself. You know, just in case.
Hellcat bounded into the van and faded into the shadows.
“I owe you one, Hellcat. Or should I call you Katy Purry? Get it? What about that one?”
There was a menacing growl from the shadows. “Okay, okay. Got it. Stay with Hellcat… for now.”
He got back in the driver’s seat and started off again. He took the long way home, making as many turns as he could and searching for signs of pursuit. When he was confident they weren’t being followed, he headed back to the lair.
Everything had gone wrong. Hamlin was trapped and who knows what they were going to do? He barely got away with his life. If they tortured Hamlin they might be able to find where the lair is. He knew Hamlin would never rat them out, but he was in the hands of some powerful people. It was probably only a matter of time. He needed to find Chris soon or they would all be dead.
20
Apophis stood in the window of the apartment gazing at the window across the street. It was the top floor, and he had a clear view of the large windows across from him.
The brothers stood next to him, one watched the ground noting the comings and goings of people into the building across. The other gazed at the entrance to their own building. That was just a precaution, they did not expect anyone to come for them.
