Cloak Games: Tomb Howl

by Jonathan Moeller

  The myothar screamed in fury, and it retreated down the corridor, squeezing itself up the stairwell and vanishing from the sight. The panther-thing that Nicholas had become started forward, went motionless, and then turned to face us. The purple eyes glared at me, the tail twitching behind the armored body, and for a moment I was certain that the creature was going to attack me.

  I gathered power for a spell.

  Then the panther-thing blurred back into the shape of Nicholas Connor. He was breathing hard, his face damp with sweat. His clothes and armor had survived the transformation intact. When Paul McCade had transformed, he had destroyed his clothes in the process. Either Nicholas was more powerful, more skilled, or both.

  “Nice trick,” I said. “You always been able to turn into a giant cat with scorpion parts, or is this a new development?”

  “Giant cat,” said Nicholas, his voice a rasp. He barked a harsh laugh and shook his head, seeming to pull himself together. “That’s one way to describe it. Let’s move.” He snatched up the briefcase from where he had dropped it. “I’ve hurt the myothar, but even with the Dark One’s power, I can’t kill it. It will be back as soon as it catches its breath.”

  He started running for the stairs, and Morelli and I followed him. We raced up the stairs, rushing through the parking levels and the HVAC rooms. In places, I saw patches of glistening slime the myothar had left during its passage, but no sign of the creature itself. I hoped Nicholas’s transformation had frightened the myothar enough that it wouldn’t show itself, but I doubted we would be that lucky.

  My headset crackled as we reached the first basement level.

  “Nicholas, you there?” said Corbisher, his voice thick with strain.

  “I am,” said Nicholas. “I’ve retrieved the briefcase, and we’re returning to the surface with the myothar in pursuit. Status report.”

  “We’re ninety feet above Adams Street, waiting for you,” said Corbisher.

  “Morelli,” said Nicholas. “Get ready to set off more bombs.” The dead escalator to the lobby loomed out of the gloom, the sunlight glinting from above shockingly bright after the darkness of the basements. “Seal off Adams Street.”

  Morelli nodded, and we stopped as he produced his phone and started tapping commands into it. An instant later I heard a distant whooshing sound as the bombs went off and the fires started, followed by a flicker of fiery light from above.

  “All right,” said Corbisher. “Looks like you’ve closed off the street. But there are still a lot of undead down there.”

  “Make a landing,” said Nicholas. “Good thing you found that Gatling gun. Swathe, clear us a path. Miss Stoker and I will use our magic to help.”

  “You have any magic that will be useful against the undead?” I said.

  In answer, Nicholas only smiled, black flames curling around the fingers of his free hand. He started up the stairs, and Morelli and I followed him. The smell of smoke filled the lobby of Willis Tower, and through the ruined doors I saw flames, more smoke, and lots of undead creatures milling around.

  As we stepped onto the sidewalk, dozens of them rushed us.

  I reacted first, throwing a fireball into their midst. The explosion caught a dozen of the creatures, throwing them to the ground as the elemental fire chewed into their undead flesh. Nicholas threw a shaft of shadowy fire and swept it across the street. I didn’t recognize the spell, but it seemed to suck away the necromantic energy that powered the corpses, and they collapsed to the ground. Morelli drew his carbine and started spraying short bursts of automatic fire, aiming for the heads of the undead.

  But there were a lot of undead, and our onslaught only slowed them only a little. I sent a fiery sphere zipping back and forth, turning undead skulls to ash, but there were too many of them. Nicholas’s shadow fire took down more creatures, and Morelli gunned them down with a volley of incendiary bullets, but dozens of undead rushed towards our position.

  Then wind tugged at my coat and hair, a thumping sound filled my ears, and Vass lowered the helicopter, spinning the craft as he descended. As he did, the passenger door came into sight, and I saw Swathe crouched behind the ominous steel barrel of the machine gun.

  A half-second later Swathe opened fire.

  I had never seen a .50 caliber machine gun fired before, and certainly not one loaded with incendiary bullets. A column of fire and smoke erupted from the end of the weapon, and Swathe swept it back and forth across the street. In about two seconds, he mowed down fifty of the undead, clearing a path to the helicopter.

  “Move it, people!” said Vass as the chopper landed. “We need to get out of here!”

  “Go!” said Nicholas, and he sprinted for the chopper, Morelli a half-step behind him. I started to follow, and then a pack of undead charged towards me. I had no choice but to turn and fight. A fiery sphere took out three of them, and then they were on me. I cast the spell for telekinetic gauntlets of force, and I started punching, smashing their heads with my blows. I took out five more that way, and then I was clear.

  I turned towards the helicopter, intending to board it, only to see that it was already thirty feet off the ground and rising fast.

  So that was how Nicholas intended to play it.

  “Nicholas!” I shouted into my microphone. “You had better land and pick me up!”

  His voice came over my headset. “Sorry, Kat. You were just too slow. Maybe you’ll be able to escape from Chicago again on your own.” I heard Hailey laugh.

  I shot a look to the left and to the right. The walls of flame that Morelli’s bombs had unleashed were fading, and any second tides of undead would pour down the street to kill me.

  “Throw me a line,” I said, yanking my phone from my pocket.

  “Goodbye, Kat,” said Nicholas. “Consider this payback for all your betrayals of the Revolution.”

  “Fine,” I said. “You want to play hardball, we’ll play hardball. I’ve got a bomb on the helicopter. If you don’t throw down a line, I’ll set it off in five seconds. Five…”

  “She’s bluffing,” said Hailey. “The bitch is bluffing.”

  “Four,” I said.

  “Hailey’s right,” said Corbisher. “Don’t listen to her.”

  "She helped prepare the bombs," said Morelli, his voice urgent. "She had plenty of time to make one extra."

  “Three,” I said.

  “She never bluffs,” said Nicholas. “Not unless she’s prepared to back it up.”

  “Two,” I said, my thumb tensing on the call button.

  “She bluffed in Venomhold and look how much it cost us,” said Corbisher. “Look how…”

  “Quiet,” said Nicholas. “Throw her a line. Morelli.”

  The helicopter stopped, and a cable fell from the passenger door. I sprinted for the cable and grabbed it, wrapping it around my left arm and leg while I kept my phone ready in my right hand. If Nicholas wanted to kill me here, he could do it, but by God, I would take all of them with me.

  I heard the whine of the winch, and I rose from the street as the helicopter ascended. A few feet from the door, I shoved my phone into my pocket and held power ready for a spell if Swathe or Corbisher decided to shoot me.

  The winch stopped, and I swung into the interior of the helicopter. Swathe, Corbisher, and Hailey were all glaring at me and holding their guns in my direction. Both Morelli and Nicholas seemed amused.

  “Hey, guys,” I said. “Don’t leave without me.”

  “She threatened us,” said Corbisher. “We…”

  “Enough,” said Nicholas. “We’ve done what we came here to do. Vass, get us out of here before the myothar brings us down.”

  “You’ve got it,” said Vass, and the helicopter rose higher in the air, the flames and the undead receding beneath us. There was a crackle, and suddenly music began playing from the speakers overhead, a mixture of strings and trumpets with a lot of bombast. I frowned in confusion, and then I recognized “Ride of the Valkyries” by Richard Wagner.
r />   “For God’s sake!” said Swathe. “What is with helicopter pilots and that damned song?”

  Vass chuckled as he swept the helicopter around the apex of Willis Tower, taking us in the direction of Lake Michigan. “It’s because we’ve got style.”

  I looked down just in time to see the myothar emerge from Willis Tower. I tensed, fearing that it would cast a spell to crash the helicopter, but the creature only stared at us.

  I felt the focus of its alien will, and suddenly its voice whispered in my mind.

  “Beware, wizard female,” said the myothar. “The Dark Ones will destroy you.”

  Then the myothar vanished from sight as the helicopter hurtled towards Lake Michigan.

  I looked at Nicholas and saw him smirking, his hand gripping the briefcase he had taken from the coffin.

  The Dark Ones will destroy you.

  Yeah. Tell me something I don’t already know.

  Chapter 14: The Beginning

  It was a short flight back to the container yard in Gary, and when we landed, the others disembarked off the helicopter and went into the warehouse. Swathe and Corbisher lingered with Nicholas, perhaps fearful that I might shoot him out of spite for trying to leave me behind. I wasn’t going to, at least not yet. I wasn’t even that angry at Nicholas. I was entirely unsurprised that he had tried to kill me in such a way that none of the blame could fall on him.

  Vass began searching the helicopter. I wondered what he was doing, and then I realized he was looking for my bomb.

  “It’s in the rear cargo compartment,” I said. Vass blinked at me. “Taped to the top, just out of sight. Be careful not to hit any of the buttons on the phone or you’ll blow us all up.”

  Vass blinked, grinned his cold white grin at me, and went to work. I pulled off my mask and goggles and blinked. The damned things always made my face feel stretched when I pulled them off.

  I looked back at Nicholas, and he smiled.

  “It wasn’t personal, you realize,” said Nicholas. “It was a tactical decision. If we stayed even a few seconds longer, it would have risked the lives of everyone. It was your life weighed against the lives of…”

  “Yeah, yeah, shut up,” I said. Corbisher and Swathe bristled. “Don’t bother trying to explain. You saw your chance to kill me and you took it, but you didn’t realize that I would be ready for you. You lost this round.”

  “Well,” said Nicholas. “That’s what people don’t understand about failure.”

  “Which is?” I said.

  The cold blue eyes glittered. “It’s simply an opportunity to learn from your mistakes and do better the next time.”

  “That’s the most upbeat death threat I’ve ever received,” I said.

  “Do you have a point,” said Nicholas, “or do you simply want to rant some more?”

  “Here’s the point, Nicky,” I said, and I pointed at the briefcase in his hand. “I’m done. The deal was I would steal three things for you, and that’s item number one. Two to go. Until you decide what the second thing is, I’m leaving.”

  “That is a reasonable request,” said Nicholas. “So long as you leave me a means of contacting you. I will be leaving this facility for a time, since our actions in Chicago might have drawn attention.”

  “Fine,” I said. I pointed at Corbisher. “Pen and paper, please.” His glare didn’t waver, but he handed me a pen and a notepad, and I scribbled down the number of my burner phone and passed it to Nicholas. “I’ll keep that phone with me. When you need me to steal a second thing for you, give me a call.”

  I ripped the page out and handed it to him, and Nicholas took it with a faint smile.

  “Until then, Kat,” said Nicholas. “Do look after yourself. Great things are coming, and I hope you’ll be alive to see them.”

  I started to say something, but all at once I didn’t care. I was tired of him, tired of Corbisher and Swathe and the other Rebels, tired of the nightmares in my head, tired of…well, everything. Why did I have to be the one to fight Nicholas? Why did I have to be the one to save the world? I had already done that at La Crosse. I was sick of Nicholas, the Elves, the Rebels, Morvilind, the Inquisition, all of it.

  I walked away without another word.

  I was tired, but I didn’t let my guard down. I wouldn’t put it past Nicholas to have me killed leaving his container yard. I decided to spend another few days in Gary disguised as Travis McHale, since if “Mr. McHale” disappeared at the same time I did, Nicholas would notice. Then I could leave Gary without drawing suspicion.

  And once I departed I would go…

  Where, exactly? Do what? I would have to wait until Nicholas called me for the second job. I still had those gems I had taken from Chicago, and if I turned those into cash I would be set on money for a while.

  I just wanted to be alone, away from anyone, away from the endless struggle around me and away from anyone I could hurt.

  Brooding on that thought, I stepped into the office corridor, intending to walk through it and out the front door. Maybe I would go to Arizona for a while. It was hot there, and I was tired of being cold all the time. Hardly any people lived in some parts of the state, and the isolation seemed nice. Perhaps I could go out there for a while, get my head together, and…

  I froze.

  A faint, foul smell came to my nostrils, the unmistakable acidic scent of human vomit. There was also the metallic edge of blood in the smell.

  It was coming from the conference room.

  I went through the door and froze in surprise.

  Someone had thrown up on the table and the floor near the wall, and there was quite a lot of blood mixed with the vomit. Dr. Andrea Tocci sat against the wall, her chest heaving as she tried to breathe, her face waxy and damp with sweat, her eyes glittering. Blood leaked from her nostrils and mouth, and her eyes had turned red with burst blood vessels.

  “Stoker,” she rasped.

  “What the hell?” I said, stepping closer and kneeling next to her. “We’ve got to get you to a doctor.” She was a doctor. Where did you take a sick doctor? “The emergency room. The hospital’s only five miles from here. I’ll…”

  “No,” said Tocci. Her head grabbed my forearm. “No. Too late. Poisoned. I know the symptoms. Too late now. Should have died ten minutes ago.”

  “Poisoned?” I said. “Who?”

  “Nicholas,” she whispered.

  My heart turned to ice in my chest.

  “What?” I said.

  “After you yelled at me, I went to talk to him,” said Tocci, her voice unsteady. “I…he wasn’t in his office. He had stepped out to use the bathroom. I looked as his desk, and I saw his papers and his computer screen. I…I shouldn’t have looked, but I did. I saw what he’s going to do. Oh, God, oh, God, please forgive me…”

  I started to say she didn’t need to forgive me for anything, but then I realized that she was talking to God because she thought she was about to die.

  “What?” I said. “What is Nicholas going to do?”

  Her blood-filled eyes met mine, and I saw the horror there.

  “He’s going to kill so many people,” she whispered. “You were right, Stoker. You were always right. Oh, God, I was such a fool. You were right about him.”

  “Tell me,” I said. “Tell me what he’s going to do.”

  “All those people,” said Tocci. “Stop him. Promise me that you’ll stop him from killing all those people.”

  “Yes,” I said, my voice like iron. “I promise.”

  Something like relief went over her tortured face.

  Then she died. It wasn’t pretty. She tried to throw up once more, but nothing came out but blood. She slumped against the wall, her last breath leaving her lips, her eyes open and empty, and her grip relaxed on my arm.

  I started at her corpse, and rage exploded through me.

  She hadn’t deserved that. Whatever she had done, whatever she had suffered, Andrea Tocci hadn’t deserved to die in a puddle of her own sick, be
trayed by a man she idolized.

  I stalked from the conference room and headed to the warehouse door. It had locked behind me, but that was all right, because I was angry enough that I used telekinetic force to blast it right off its hinges. It landed in a pallet of ammunition with a ringing crash, sending bullets spilling across the concrete floor. Nicholas, Corbisher, and Swathe were still standing by the helicopter, and both Swathe and Corbisher whirled. Swathe brought up his pistol to point at me, while Corbisher started a spell, black fire dancing around his fingers.

  Nicholas remained calmer.

  “Kat,” he called as I stalked towards him. “Is there problem?”

  “You killed her,” I said.

  “Do be more specific.”

  “Andrea Tocci,” I said. “You poisoned her. She just died in the conference room.”

  “Really,” said Nicholas. “She was supposed to have died in her sleep.”

  Corbisher scowled at Swathe. “I told you to use a larger dose.”

  “You’re not even going to deny it?” I said.

  “Of course not,” said Nicholas. “Did she live long enough to spin a sob story for you? She was a sworn member of the Revolution, and she decided to betray her oaths. She would not support our plan, and I knew she would go to the Inquisition because she had suddenly become squeamish about a little collateral damage.”

  “Collateral damage?” I said. “Just how many people are you planning to kill?”

  Nicholas shrugged. “As many as necessary. But that isn’t really the point.”

  “No,” I said. “The point is that you just murdered Tocci.”

  “Does that upset you, Kat?” said Nicholas. “Have I finally pushed you a little bit too far? Are we going to have it out, right here and now?”

  He stepped closer, towering over me, and both Corbisher and Swathe took a few judicious steps back.

  I glared up at him, not backing away. He was a lot bigger and stronger than I was, but I had magic to be back me up. Of course, he had magic as well, and he could turn into a giant panther-thing that had gone claw-to-claw with a myothar and survived.

  “Because we are going to have it out,” said Nicholas in a soft voice, “if not right now, then after you steal those last two items for me. But if you want to push me, Kat, if you want to settle our differences right here, then I am more than willing.”