Rook: Let's Avoid the Apocalypse, People

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Rook: Let's Avoid the Apocalypse, People Page 12

by Carolyn McCray


  Okay, so it turned out that Beauty should be crushed by the news. Rook’s plan had been tentative at best. Now, though? What did they have that could possibly stop the war about to burst into their dimension?

  “What are we going to do?” Angela asked.

  Abruptly, Rook came to a halt. A grim smile crossed his face. A smile Beauty had come to know and not really like because it usually foreshadowed doom.

  “We are going to use this to our advantage,” he stated.

  “How, exactly?” Beauty asked tentatively.

  But Rook held none of her trepidation. As a matter of fact, he seemed energized by the new challenge. “As far as getting screwed, this wasn’t too bad.”

  He knelt and ripped a sleeve off of Chad’s shirt and handed it to Angela. “Soak it in your blood.”

  “What?” Angela asked, as she recoiled in horror next to Beauty. “I am not going to—”

  Beauty went to comfort her. Yes, it was a wildly inappropriate request, but Rook must have his reasons. Right? One didn’t ask for a woman’s menstrual blood without a specific purpose.

  Then, as the reason dawned on Beauty, she too stepped back in horror, realizing Rook’s next move.

  “No, Rook. You can’t possibly be thinking what I think you are.”

  He just shrugged. “What? The Cataclysmic Incantation was written for just this purpose.” Rook put the sleeve in Angela’s hand. “Now get going.”

  Angela seemed too stunned to fight and went behind a large boulder to fulfill his request, which gave Beauty time to talk Rook out of his ridiculous plan.

  “The Incantation was written by a madman over six hundred years ago, and—”

  “Who prophesied this day coming?”

  Oh, if he thought he could back her off so easily, Rook had another thing coming. “And he wrote it while raving at the moon from his dungeon as rats chewed out his eyes! He was not a stable cookie.” Rook seemed wholly unimpressed by her passionate speech. “Rook, please,” she pleaded. “You can’t be serious.”

  Horizontal lightning danced in the air above the nexus, illuminating Rook’s face. His blue eyes took on the color of steel—hard and resolved. Rook was in fact extremely serious.

  Beauty still wanted to argue, but Angela came back from behind the boulder. Thank goodness she had used the belt to her hospital robe to wrap the unseemly package. Angela handed it over to Rook.

  “Do you still need me to go out there?” Angela asked, but Rook shook his head.

  “They will smell the blood on you,” he responded. “I need you to head back to Tomahawk and Fanny,” Rook instructed Angela. “Warn them of what I plan to do. Tommi needs to get Fanny as far away from here as possible, and she needs to put up as many mental blocks as she can. Once the two forces are engaged, her mind could get trapped between them.”

  Rook turned to Beauty. “You stay here and get Chad revved up. I’ll let you know when to let him rip.”

  Then he was gone, hustling down the trail that lead to the valley floor. To the nexus—where he would be one man standing against the full forces of good and evil.

  Good thing he had the ego for it.

  Angela turned to Beauty. “Are you going to be okay?”

  “Honey,” Beauty said, kneeling next to Chad and trying to wake him up from his Valium-induced slumber, “if this battle doesn’t kill us, Rook’s trick certainly will.”

  CHAPTER 9

  The ruddy ground beneath his feet pulsed as the sky above shone pure white. The air thrummed with the threat of battle as Rook made his way to the exact center of the valley.

  The nexus wasn’t hard to miss, given the light show.

  Settling into the spot, Rook looked down to find a familiar face pushing against the barrier, distorting it in his own mangy image.

  “Practicing your moves, Dimitri?” Rook asked the ghost he had damned to hell.

  “You are mine,” Dimitri threatened.

  Rook sneered. “Do you want to bet on that?”

  The face receded. Guess Dimitri wasn’t feeling all that lucky.

  Pulling out the banana and oil, Rook prepared for the incantation. He poured the oil in a circle around him, but put the banana back in his pocket. He might still need it.

  Once the circle of oil was complete, Rook breathed in deeply.

  Brimstone and the scent of lilies filled his lungs.

  Once he began, there would be no turning back. He would be trapped within the magic of incantation. In all likelihood, this was a one-way trip. But at the least, Angela was out of harm’s way, and with any luck, the rest of his friends too. Well, Chad would probably be toast, but the rest should be able to get out before the real fireworks began.

  There was no point in delaying any further.

  Rook snapped his fingers, igniting the oil and forming a protective circle.

  Then, he opened the bundle Angela had given him and began the chant.

  “Blood of a woman. Blood of a man.”

  Rook felt along his belt for his knife, but came up empty. The ground trembled beneath his feet as the air crackled with energy.

  “Fine,” he said as he put his finger to his mouth and bit down. His warm, salty blood hit his tongue. He let drop after drop of his blood fall onto the sleeve coated in Angela’s blood, flaring the fabric a bright blue until, finally, a flickering flame ignited.

  He really needed to find a profession that didn’t require self-mutilation.

  Once the entire cloth was afire, Rook raised it over his head.

  “Power and Pride. Rage and Revenge, I call thee to me!”

  As the madman predicted so many centuries ago, light swirled around him, tugging heaven and hell toward Rook without damaging the barrier between them.

  Oh, yeah. That’s how you do it.

  But the effect slowed until it plateaued, leaving the sides a good ten yards apart. This would not do. They needed to be touching for him to seal the realms.

  Worse, each side must have realized Rook’s plan as they redoubled their efforts to cross the barrier before he could complete the incantation.

  “Beauty, help me out here. Why isn’t the spell reaching completion?”

  * * *

  How was she supposed to know? But Beauty let poor Chad slip back into unconsciousness as she reached in her purse, grabbing her phone. Quickly, she scrolled down to the “Cs.”

  “Cajun gumbo,” she mumbled. “No, but that was a great recipe.”

  She scrolled down to where “Cataclysmic” should have been, but it wasn’t there. Crap. It must have been under Incantations. In the future, she would list everything in both places.

  Beauty dragged her finger quickly down to the “Is,” and read from her notes. “The spell must be invoked with abject fear.” She yelled against the Armageddon warm-up show. “You must be totally and mind-numbingly afraid.”

  Down at the nexus, Rook frowned. “I think I’m pretty freaking afraid.”

  As thunder echoed off the walls of the canyon and Chad’s symbols began sparking a menacing red, Beauty shouted back, “Well, obviously not enough!” Then she muttered, “He should’ve let me invoke the damn spell.”

  * * *

  “I should’ve let Beauty do the damn incantation,” Rook mumbled as he tried to dig deep for some abject fear. But when your day job involves beheading Medusas and duking it out with possessed wolverines, the clash between good and evil just didn’t really move him to terror.

  He had to try, though. It would be downright stupid if they all died and the earth became a barren wasteland because he just wasn’t scared enough. Rook tried to shake off his confidence. This spell really might not work.

  “I’m terrified!” he shouted to the wind, but the two forces came no closer together. Rook tried to be startled by the demons underfoot. “Horrified, I tell ya! Downright petrified!”

  The incantation was unimpressed, though.

  “Rook! Look out!” Beauty screamed.

  Rook turned as Sheli, on wing
and looking ready for revenge, dove toward him. He felt his gut tighten and his jaw clench. So that was what real fear felt like. Clearly, it was, as the light whirling around him brightened and heaven and hell inched closer and closer together.

  “You really shouldn’t have scared me like that,” Rook commented.

  Sheli slammed into Rook, knocking him to the ground. She sprang up raising a knife, his knife, high above her head. Rook rolled just in time as it arced in the air and gained his feet. Sheli sliced and cut at Rook, who barely stayed an inch ahead of the blade. Her Goth clothes were a tattered mess and stained with blood, which wouldn’t have been so bad except for the glint of murder in her eye.

  “You will pay,” she promised.

  Rook felt the fire of the protection circle at his leg. “If I cross this line before the spell is completely cast, Armageddon will be unleashed.”

  “Do I look like I care?” Sheli growled, arcing the knife up once again.

  No, she certainly did not.

  * * *

  Angela clutched her midriff as she climbed the steep trail. The ground shook beneath her, though, making the ascent all the more difficult.

  Finally she stumbled forward, onto the small ledge where they had left Tomahawk and Fanny. But neither of them could be found. She glanced down to the nexus where Rook battled Sheli. It did not look like it was going well.

  At all.

  But Angela knew she could do nothing for Rook except deliver his message and get Fanny as far away as possible.

  Searching the ground she found a set of footprints going down a side path. Dear Gawd. More hiking? Pushing herself to her feet, Angela set out.

  “I’m never leaving home without Midol again …”

  * * *

  Tomahawk practically carried Fanny down the narrow game trail.

  “How much farther?” he asked, as the Seeker’s eyes drifted from right to left, and then snapped back to the right. “This is getting us dangerously close to the action, sweetie.”

  “Closer,” Fanny mumbled.

  Tomahawk slowed, though. “Rook left us up there for a reason, Fanny.”

  “Closer!” she shouted.

  Despite his better judgment, Tomahawk continued down toward the valley floor. Tomahawk could only imagine the turmoil within Fanny. He had learned long ago that when your Seeker told you to do something … you did it.

  * * *

  Rook’s arm shook as he held Sheli’s wrist, keeping the blade from slicing his head clean off. With the other hand he grabbed the banana from his pocket and whacked her across the temple with it.

  The angel knocked the banana away, and then squashed it under her bare foot.

  “Was that supposed to be a joke? Fighting with fruit?”

  “No, it was just a perfect unblemished banana,” Rook noted. “Do you know how hard those are to come by this time of year?”

  At the edge of his vision, Rook noticed the barriers to the two realms touch and repel, then touch again. He only needed a few more seconds.

  Sheli must have noticed the same thing. “Never!” she sneered.

  The angel launched at him, knocking him back several steps. That damn knife was up and down, then cutting across his arm. He had no business thinking he could fight an angel unarmed. But then Sheli missed widely with a blow, tripping on the follow-through.

  Luckily, Rook was never without some form of a weapon.

  Staggering, Sheli looked at him. “What have you done?”

  “What any great strategist does,” Rook explained, kicking the banana peel away with his boot. “I prepare for all contingencies.”

  “With a banana?” Sheli slurred.

  “Genius comes in all forms, babe,” Rook said, as Sheli nearly toppled over. “That banana was spiked with M-99, the most powerful sedative known to man. Powerful enough to knock an angel on her ass.” He sidestepped as she lurched forward. “Now back off, and we might survive.”

  But Sheli did the freaking exact opposite of backing off. With the last of her strength, she lunged at him. Her momentum carried them both over the protective circle. The energy currents caught Sheli’s wings and tore them from her back. As her screams pierced through the thunder, the currents tossed her high into the air, and then she was gone.

  Just gone. Vaporized.

  Rook tried to make for the hills, but the currents lashed into him as well, his body trapped in their vise.

  “Beauty, open Chad!”

  “But—”

  “Now!” Rook yelled as the energy tendrils dug into his flesh, insinuating themselves into his very being.

  * * *

  Angela ran up as Tomahawk dropped to one knee. Fanny’s body spasmed. Tears streamed from the girl’s eyes.

  “We have got to get her away!” Angela yelled over the chaos.

  “She won’t let me.”

  Fanny clutched Tomahawk’s sleeve. “They’re so close. There are so many!”

  Angela knelt next to the girl. “Fanny, you’ve got to pull back.”

  “I can’t,” she groaned. “They won’t let him go.”

  Tomahawk’s eyes found Angela’s. “Damn it! Where’s Rook?”

  The sky crackled with white, yellow, orange, and red, illuminating a lone figure buffeted by forces unseen.

  Tomahawk held Fanny closer to his chest. “Never mind.”

  * * *

  Beauty prodded Chad again, even slapping his face. But the guy just wouldn’t wake up.

  “Beauty, now would be a great time!”

  Rook’s clothes were nearly ripped off, and his body was nicked and cut in a hundred different places. He wasn’t going to make it much longer. This was it. Beauty needed to pull something out of her hat.

  Hat. Hair. Pins.

  She pulled one out of her weave, and with her teeth pulled off the protective rubber tip. Using the sharp end, she stuck it into Chad’s nose.

  “Acupuncture to the rescue!”

  Sure enough, Chad startled awake, and the Hellgate seemed more than eager to spring into action, opening immediately. The fiery vortex shot out from Chad’s chest and hit the energy currents, pulling them into its maw.

  “Should I close it?” she yelled.

  * * *

  “Not until they both withdraw!” Rook shouted over the churning of the most powerful forces in the universe.

  Neither heaven nor hell was backing down. The host risked being sucked into the pit, and hell risked being caught in an unending current, yet both dug deeper into his flesh, wanting him to experience their pain. Rook fought against them, trying to untangle himself from their clutches.

  Then a fractured and distorted figure appeared before him. He barely recognized the form as Fanny. Her skin cracked along her facial planes, and her eyes were bloodshot. Her spirit flickered before him, barely tangible.

  “Stop fighting,” Fanny whispered, yet he heard her clearly above the snapping and snarling of the energy currents. “Let go,” she said, before she disappeared altogether.

  That made no sense. Not fight? When did he not fight?

  But struggling was not helping, either.

  Could he really trust Fanny?

  Rook closed his eyes and let his muscles go slack. He expected to get bucked amongst the ravaging winds. However, the air stilled around him, and the only sound was the Hellgate churning away.

  He had become the point of connection between the two forces. Without his resistance, the barriers began to seal themselves.

  Without warning, the two energy streams collapsed. Heaven and hell retreated to lick their wounds. Which was great, except now the Hellgate had a head of steam, dragging Rook into the vortex.

  Okay, this … this he could fight.

  * * *

  “Now!” Rook screamed at Beauty.

  She grabbed the bobby pin and yanked it from Chad’s nose. He crumpled like a doll, and the Hellgate sucked back into his chest.

  She leapt to her feet as Rook plummeted from the sky. Arms flailing,
he was about to crash into the earth, when he suddenly flipped over and his freefall slowed to a gentle descent.

  The “light as a feather” spell. Nice.

  He would have floated there for an eternity, but he must have reversed the spell as he slammed into the ground. Rook rose, rumpled but not mortally wounded.

  “Get Chad to the rendezvous point!”

  Beauty got the student up and stumbling, but Rook did not follow. Instead, he looked toward the east. Was that Angela’s scream Beauty heard?

  * * *

  Rook climbed the slope using weeds and branches as his handholds.

  “Help!” Angela screamed again.

  Even though the battle for this plane was over, that did not mean that heaven and hell could not vent their frustrations upon this valley. Lightning struck all around them, lancing the earth with its searing heat.

  Finally, he made it to the crest of a hill to find Tomahawk knocked out under a fallen tree and Angela trying to rouse a limp Fanny. Rook rushed over, sinking to his knees by Fanny and checking her vital signs. There were none.

  Angela’s hands flew to her face, trying to contain her sobs. “I didn’t get here soon enough. She was caught between them.”

  “No,” Rook said, so stunned that he had a hard time breathing. His lungs suddenly went on strike. “She sacrificed herself for me.”

  A lightning bolt struck not inches from them. The charred grass burned his nostrils. He turned to Angela. “Get Tommi out of here.”

  “But—”

  Rook shoved Angela hard toward Tomahawk. “I am not going to lose anyone else. Now go!”

  The force of his words must have tapped into something deep within Angela, as she jumped to her feet and got Tomahawk moving up the trail.

  Rook turned back to Fanny, stroking her cheek with the back of his hand. “Fanny, baby, you can’t do this to me.” His voice cracked. “Not now.”

  Still nothing. He gave her a breath, but no pulse. He laced his fingers together performing CPR, but her heart did not beat. He couldn’t stop. How could he? It was Fanny.

  “You can’t die. You’re the only one who—”

  A lightning bolt struck so close that Rook smelled ozone, and the hairs on his arm stood straight up. Rook jumped to his feet.

 

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