“Concentrate!” Jared shouted, sweat pouring down his face, blood-red capillaries throbbing in his eyes. “Concentrate!”
The Ugly screamed and fired and cursed in frustration as the Cognati advanced, their robes rising and whipping about in the unnatural force that coursed through their bodies.
* * *
Dust fell from the ceiling in great torrents as Boris’s office was rocked by another explosion. “Lord!” shouted an Ugly at a giant radio set. “Paul the Seer is on his way with zeppelins!”
A line of dust fell across the shoulders of the Hand, who suddenly stiffened and loudly cracked the bones in his neck. Boris thought about playing his ace and giving the Hand the order to attack, then he bent over in pain for the child was straining at the stitches with newfound strength, threatening to tear his flesh.
“Lord Boris!” an Ugly guard shouted as he entered from the hall. “Smith zeppelins are hitting the fortress. Lord, we’ve got to get you to another area before a total collapse!”
“NO!” Boris shouted. “We won’t retreat before we’ve broken them!” The room lit up with a deep, red light as a zeppelin was blasted and caught fire. The fortress shook violently as the ruined airship slammed into the eastern wing, its payload igniting.
An Ugly parted the window’s red curtain, threw his head about, then backed away suddenly. “Cognati!” he screamed. “The Cognati are right below us!”
Hand sped toward the window, looked, then calmly walked to the other side of the room. “By your leave, Lord Boris,” he grated, then unsheathed two submachine guns with long clips. He stared at the curtained window.
“Give the order for those on the roof to cease fire!” Boris shouted at the radio man. “Hand – go, now!”
The Hand lowered his head, as if disappointed, then ran across the room, leaped on top of Boris’s desk, then flung himself through the window. The red curtain twirled around him as he seemed to hang in the air for one sickening moment, four floors up from the pavement below, then he aimed both submachine guns downward as he fell.
“He’s the only one who could kill those damned wizards!” Boris shouted, as if someone was judging him for playing his most powerful move. “Let’s go!”
The Ugly at the radio threw down his headset and joined the other guards as they followed Boris out of the office.
* * *
Paul streaked through the night in his massive war zeppelin Storm of Man’s Last Breath and saw the orange glow of burning zeppelins and the flash of bombs dropping around his lord’s fortress and a great chill gripped his heart worse than the cold wind that streaked past, for he realized the thing was far worse than he’d imagined. He had grossly underestimated the situation. His berserkers chanted all around him and he knew that many of them would turn on him in an instant if the extent of his betrayal was suspected.
He leaned over the side of the zeppelin, white dreads whipping about his face, and saw Senki’s berserkers laying waste to Coilmen far from the fortress. He saw the berserkers running and slipping in blood and bashing in the sides of cars and firing all around. His fear grew and grew. He knew that Senki would survive and would suspect that he’d delayed taking to the air on purpose and would have him tortured and killed.
“Lord!” cried a berserker at the prow of the ship. “Some of the Smith airships are breaking away from the fortress!”
Paul looked and saw that they were headed to the outer rim where Senki’s berserkers were fighting. The Coil must have called for assistance. Thinking quickly, Paul said, “Let them go - we must protect Lord Boris!”
“Yessir!” the Ugly shouted. Paul smiled inwardly, but the fear did not relent.
The fires of the fortress loomed nearer. Paul breathed in and out, sharp and hard, and quickened the pace of his heart in the way of the berserker. He became one with the great fear of death and felt his lips pull away from his teeth. Possessed by the bloodlust, Paul turned to the heavy machinegunners along the sides of the ship and shouted, “KILL! KILL! KILL!” The machineguns opened up, and he saw his other zeppelins doing the same, and the few Smith airships before them flared up with orange death-blooms. The airborne berserkers raced into the courtyard above the fortress and several of his zeppelins even slammed right into the enemy ships; guns blasted all around and some of his men, driven to madness by combat drugs and bloodlust, even leaped onto enemy ships, shooting and swinging axes and falling all over the decks of tottering ships. The skies were full of fire and blood. Any time the guns paused the reload, the Smiths could hear the terrible sound of the berserkers crying out like animals.
* * *
“They’re moving!” Wodan shouted, peering around the corner. “Some, maybe all of them, just ran toward the front gate!”
“Let’s go,” said Pelethor. Wodan and the half-dozen Soldiers rose and followed him into the street. Firelight glinted off shattered pavement as they crossed, the popping gunfire and distant death-cries like birds of prey calling from a world of violence and agony. Wodan ran to the edge of the ruined wall while Pelethor led the others into the crater. The Soldiers slowed while Pelethor trudged ahead, then fell back in line when Wodan gave them an all-clear signal. Wodan clambered down into the crater with them and together they climbed up the rim onto the granite pavement beyond the wall.
In the distance, Wodan could see the terrible battle at the remains of the shattered front gate. Armored Coil cars and trucks drove in, machineguns firing from their tops or sides, and Coil Soldiers streamed in behind them. A great horde of Ugly spilled out of either wing of the fortress, and Wodan was horrified to see that many of them wore stolen Guardian armor, piecemeal and covered in black paint and hideous red designs. Many Ugly fired on the Coil using the high-powered automatic rifles also stolen from Haven. A heavy Coil armored car spun its wheels atop a pile of writhing Ugly while other Ugly leaped on top of the thing, firing down into it or swinging great axes into its thick windows, spraying glass and twisting off strips of metal armor. Wodan heard the throbbing hum of the Cognati’s invisible force fields, but they were hidden from view between the wings of the fortress. A great blast raged overhead, then Wodan saw several zeppelins crowding one another, firing at point-blank range and exploding in furious red clouds. He saw berserkers leaping from ship to ship and Smiths covered in blood fell and splattered on the granite courtyard below.
Everyone ignored Wodan’s small team as Pelethor led them directly to a small iron door at the side of one wing. Just as they drew near, the door pounded open and a group of screaming Ugly rushed out - then looked up in surprise when they saw a gang of Coil directly in front of them. Both groups stopped and fired into one another. Wodan’s heart thundered as the area exploded in a rush of gunsmoke. Wodan heard a bullet whiz past his ear. Unable to move because Coil were firing on either side, Wodan dropped to one knee, firing three shots from the automatic punctuated by a blast from the magnum, then dropped to his side just as a comrade jerked and toppled over. As guns clicked empty and the stinking cloud drifted from the area, Wodan saw a handful of Ugly stagger away from their dead and return to the side entrance. A hand grasped the door to slam it shut, but Pelethor aimed his rifle and blew the thing off at the wrist.
Wodan glanced at three dead Coil and only had time to bag his magnum and reload his automatic before he realized that Pelethor was stalking up to the doorway, alone and unmindful of any danger. Wodan leaped over the dead and reached his Captain’s side just as he swung the door open. Wodan saw the white eyes of the crouching Ugly as they jerked their heads upward, mouths hanging open, not expecting any fools to simply walk up on them.
Without slowing his pace Pelethor raised his rifle and blasted a man’s face open. The Ugly raised their guns as Pelethor blasted another man and stepped inside, unwilling to slow his pace. Wodan tripped and fell against the doorway, then fired over and over into craning necks and jaws. Wodan saw another terrible rush of gunsmoke, and with his eyes nearly closed he fired on either side of Pelethor. As the smoke
cleared Wodan saw a single Ugly crawling from the area, both arms shattered and spilling blood. Pelethor fired once into the man’s chest with his rifle as he continued down the dark, blood-soaked hallway.
He’s insane! thought Wodan, holding his chest and trying to catch his breath. An insane, lucky fool!
Wodan realized he was smiling as he signaled to the small group of Soldiers crouching in the rear.
* * *
“Claws” Senki, leader of the Unified Leg of the Ugly, danced atop a blasted car and pivoted his massive rifle on the harness attached to his ruined arm and fired with the other, screeching and spinning all the while. His berserkers ran and shrieked like madmen, blasting and laughing as the Coil retreated all around them. They filled the avenue as they pressed inward, scattering the Coil in the rear as they made their way toward the granite fortress.
Senki leaped from car to car and, from the corner of his eye, spotted a cluster of Coil crouching in an alleyway. In mid-leap he shrieked, “FIRES FROM HELL! FIRES... FROM... HELL!!!” and fired at them. His rifle was so powerful that one Coilman’s head exploded, then the bullet crashed into a brick wall, shattering stone and throwing a cloud of dust on the others. They panicked and fired wildly, shattering the car windows beneath him as he aimed and fired again. Another Coil’s chest burst apart and the others wiped meat from their faces as they scattered and ran.
“WELCOME AND DIE!” he shouted. “EAT BLOOD! DRINK GUTS! TASTE BILE AND PISS YOU FUCKS!!!”
A stream of berserkers poured forth on either side of him and he shouted nonsense to them, fully aware that their ears were dead now that the bloodlust was in them. Senki threw his eyes about, looking for something to shoot, then saw Smith zeppelins approaching. “PAUL!” he shouted, furious. “DO YOUR FUCKING JOB, PLEASE!” A berserker ran past and Senki shouted at him, “GIVE ME A RADIO YOU SWEET FUCK!” but the berserker was intent on murder and deaf to the world. A terrific explosion rocked the street and Senki watched several cars leap into the air. At that moment he remembered that he had a radio of his own, so he calmly lowered his rifle, unslung the radio, and shouted, “PAUL YOU SACK-LICKER WHY ARE THERE ZEPPELINS OVER ME?!” He heard only garbled voices, then another explosion tore through the streets and a hundred windows shattered overhead and rained down onto him. He shook the glass from his hair and shrieked, “MAYBE YOU CAN’T FUCKING HEAR ME OVER THE EXPLOSIONS! CAN YOU PLEASE USE YOUR ZEPPELINS TO KEEP THE AIR CLEAR OF THESE SMITH MAGGOTS? I KNOW IT’S A SHIT DEAL THAT WE HAVE TO KEEP THE ZEPPELINS AT YOUR MANSION, BUT MY MANSION IS IN THE MIDDLE OF TOWN AND ALL MY ROOFS ARE SLANTED, YOU SEE, I DO NOT HAVE THE ROOM TO STORE A ZEPPELIN, SO A LITTLE HELP WOULD BE APPRECIATED, YOU FUCKING MORON!”
The Smith airships dropped more bombs and Senki saw a group of berserkers simply disappear in a flash of white while others were tossed into the air in a torrent of twisted metal and concrete.
“PAUL!” Senki shrieked. “I KNOW YOUR JOB IS DIFFICULT BUT IN THE NAME OF ALL THAT’S FUCKING HOLY I SHOULD VERY MUCH APPRECIATE IT IF-”
Senki was interrupted when a five hundred pound bomb fell directly on him, pushing his head down through his torso, which split down the middle in a brittle shattering that flung out wads of meat while his legs bent the wrong way, then the bomb passed through the car in a wake of glass before it detonated like a burning sunrise of death.
* * *
Wodan and the three Soldiers followed Pelethor through the winding black hallways and stairwells of the fortress, creeping as quietly as they could. The fear was maddening, for they could hear Ugly battle-cries and gunfire from rooms with windows that opened onto the courtyard below. Finally they reached a branching hallway; at one end, an otherworldly purple and blue light shivered. Pelethor came to a stop for the first time. Wodan sensed something cold and evil at the far end.
They heard Ugly shouting. Pelethor ducked into a side hall and they followed him into a narrow, lightless room. They crouched and waited. Wodan’s eyes adjusted to the darkness and he could see Pelethor staring at the floor.
“How do you know where you’re going?” Wodan whispered. Their Captain ignored him. The Soldiers fidgeted in the darkness.
Eventually Wodan realized that the constant waterfall sound of gunfire on the roof was slowing to a trickle. Doors pounded open and Wodan saw dozens of Ugly rushing through the hallway only a few feet from him. “To the courtyard!” one of them shouted. “The courtyard!” Wodan could hear them tearing down the stairs and, since the fortress had ceased shaking, he knew that the aerial battle had either gone for them or against them. Everyone was being sent to the slaughterhouse on the front lines.
“Soon, Scorpio,” Pelethor whispered in the dark. “Soon.”
Wodan nodded. He saw that the faces of the other Coil were twisted with fear, and he wondered if he looked the same as them.
This is what I wanted, he thought, wiping sweat from his grimy face. I can’t hold back now.
Wodan reloaded his guns as they waited in the darkness, then tucked the Coil magnum in the bag at his side. Silence hung heavily, then they heard the sound of stone cracking – and a humming sound. The hairs along Wodan’s neck lifted as a Cognati force field hummed and shifted somewhere not far from them. Pelethor stiffened, then rose. The others followed as he rejoined the branching hallway with the shifting, dreadful lights at the far end.
“I’m talking to you, damn it!” a voice cried in the distance. Wodan and Pelethor hugged a corner and saw, in another hallway, two black-robed Cognati pass by slowly. As they disappeared from view, a Coil in a Captain’s jacket walked behind them, gun drawn. Though the branching hallways were confusing, Wodan guessed that they were heading toward the same point. If Pelethor did indeed know the way to Boris’s last-ditch holdout, then they would all converge on him soon.
“You hear me?” the other Captain shouted. Though he disappeared from view, they could hear him shouting at the Cognati. “I know the other four took something and ran. I saw it! What was it? Answer me, damn you!” The Cognati remained silent. “The deal was for all six of you to kill at least one Hand, and Boris as well. Why did four of you run off in the middle of battle? Are you listening? I’m a Coil, you freaks! You think I don’t know when a deal’s happening on the side?”
The voice faded in the distance. Pelethor continued further down the hall toward the shifting lights. Wodan followed close behind. As they reached the final branch, Pelethor stepped into the lit hallway – then Wodan grabbed his jacket and jerked him back.
Pelethor spun on him, glaring with eyes of ice, but Wodan hissed, “We’ve been following you all this way, but we’re not going to let you throw your life away. Understand? We do things my way from now on.”
Pelethor bore the force of his will into Wodan; Wodan answered him with a steady, unswerving gaze. Finally something melted in Pelethor, and he nodded to Wodan.
Wodan crouched low, then peeked around the corner.
The long, black corridor led to another series of branches, but halfway down the hall stood an open doorway bathed in wildly shifting purple and blue lights. The effect was sickening and disorienting. The open doorway was clogged with the corpses of Ugly guards dressed in modified armor from Haven, while the far end of the hall was littered with the corpses of dead Coilmen. Wodan was surprised that any other Coil had made it so far.
The Smith zeppelins must have knocked an opening in the wall on the far side that we didn’t know about, Wodan decided.
Suddenly Wodan was taken aback; he hadn’t seen it immediately, but one more Ugly stood leaning against the doorway. He was dressed in stolen Haven armor painted in black and red, but the armor had been modified with heavy black steel to the point that it looked like a nightmare version of his homeland’s Guardians. The armored behemoth must not have seen him, because he stood immobile with his long, high-powered rifle and waited for the two Cognati.
Wodan heard the humming sound of a force field. At the far end of the hall, the two Cognati rounded a bend and came into v
iew. One walked slowly with his hand extended before him, smiling slightly, while the other trailed behind. Suddenly the other Captain came into view as well. He was young and his face with flush with anger.
“You work for the Coil, don’t you? Answer me! I want to know what your comrades took and ran away with!”
“Shut up already,” said the Cognati in the back. He turned around, extended a hand, then the Captain’s head whirled around so that the back of his head faced the front. The dead Captain fell sideways and crashed into the floor. The lead Cognati chuckled.
The armored Ugly glanced around the hall and spotted the two oncoming Cognati. “You’re them wizards, right?” he said, his voice echoing under his helmet. “Guess you guys think you’re pretty smart, huh?”
The lead Cognati grinned and said, “Smart enough to-”
The armored Ugly lifted a remote and pressed a button. A terrific explosion shook the hallway behind the Cognati and the one in the rear was flung forward so violently that his body crashed against his comrade’s field, spraying blood that hung splattered in the air. The lead Cognati arched his back in agony and stood on his tiptoes. His mouth hung slack and he leaned against the wall, gripping his back with one hand.
The armored Ugly stepped out of his hiding spot and fired on the remaining Cognati, but his bullets bounced off harmlessly. Sweat poured down the Cognati’s brow.
“Aw, that’s no fair!” the Ugly laughed. “Why don’t you put that magic away, huh? Tell you what, I’ll play fair an’ take the gloves off and beat your ass to death with my bare hands.”
Wodan could see that the Cognati was in agony, and was out of the fight. He could also see that the Ugly had his back turned to him while he berated the Cognati. Wodan breathed in, then leaned away from his cover and sighted down the barrel of his automatic. He pulled the trigger and the gun jerked in his hand, spitting fire over and over again.
[Demonworld 3] The Floyd Street Massacre Page 24
