“Did they stop? Say anything? Do anything?”
“Oh, man. We stopped. One of them threw something. They were nervous. They dragged me across, fast.”
“Did they throw some meat, and then slip by while whatever's under there ate it?”
“Yeah, like that,” Cappy confirmed, more sure than less sure, I hoped. Dimitri nodded absently.
I didn't have any spare meat, but there were some rocks that might fool whatever had buried itself in the sand long enough for me to get a shot at it. I was thinking maybe a Coffin Spider with its long rectangular mouth shaped like an open casket.
The rock landed with a thump in the middle of the mound. I waited, ready to put a fireball down the nasty critter's gullet. Nothing happened. Another rock, same result. Something might have moved on the far side of the mound. I advanced a couple steps, now well up on the mound, and threw another rock. Nothing. After another cautious step, I was about to throw another rock when, Cappy and Dimitri yelled, “Up, Getter! Up!”
Up?
I looked up—into a neat three foot wide hole filled with teeth. Medusa Worm! A hundred, two inch snaky necks tipped with razor teeth filled mouths, slid out of the hole right over me. I fell to my knees, back against the wall, and fired. I shot with my right and threw sand or rocks with my left. The individual necks sizzled and popped as the balls of fire hit and stuck. The affected mouths emitted a grating screech as they writhed with pain. They weren't fast, but there were so many. I attempted to crawl away. The heads blocked me. My left arm stung with tiny razor cuts. Blood ran into my eyes, and I gagged on the stench of charred worm. Smoke filled the tunnel. I heard the sizzle and scream as Cappy attacked the worm from his side. This gave me a second to draw my knife. It slipped from my bloody hand. I grabbed it in time to slice off a mouth, inches from my throat.
My flamegun went dead. Cappy's gun had less charge than mine. Trapped by the mouths, I had one option, and two seconds to take it. I threw the flamegun into the mass of deadly mouths, drew my gun with its one remaining shell filled with Hellshot, and fired into the smoke obscured center of the worm.
All the mouths screamed at once. I fell to the sand, hands over my ears. The whole worm shuddered, then, one by one, the mouths closed and the necks drooped.
Relief washed over me, until the main body of the worm began to ooze from its hole. I rolled out from under it. The others would be trapped behind the thick body.
“Cappy, get through before it all comes out,” I called. No answer. I struggled to my feet. The slimy worm body pressed against both walls of the tunnel. Had the guards caught up to my four companions?
“Dimitri!”
No response. Shouts came from my side of the tunnel. I endured a brief bout of hopelessness. That was a bad habit to get into. My knife against several armed guards? I didn't care much for knife fighting. Whether against demons or self-styled tough guys at a roadhouse bar, knife fighting was too up close and personal for me. Were the others dead or captured? Beyond my help? What would I say to Christine? Would I see her, or Sneaker, again? I didn't see how. The odds were continually being stacked against me. And I was tired, so tired. Fatigue settled over me like a shroud. I sank to the floor against the wall, rested blood-covered hands on my knees.
To rest was all I wanted. To sleep for awhile and wake up in my truck and drive leisurely home and see Christine and tell her that Dimitri was alive and happy with Grace and contact Sneaker and tell her I was retiring as a Hell Cop and getting a safe, dull, tedious job in a small town away from backdoors and demons and danger and fear and would she come stay with me. She wouldn't, of course, but that would be all right, because I would be safe and unafraid and not so tired.
“Getter, help.”
My head jerked up.
“Getter, up here, man.”
A glistening black arm stuck out between the tunnel wall and the gray flesh of the dead worm. They were alive!
I jumped up and grabbed his hand. Slowly the rest of his body emerged, with Brittany in tow. Foul slime coated them.
“Dimitri?”
“Behind us.”
Hand in hand, Dimitri and Grace slipped through. The slime dripped off them into pools at their feet. Dimitri fell to his knees. Dry heaves produced nothing. Brittany's eye pleaded for me to do something. All I could do was pour a little water from my bottle on their faces. Then we all took a quick drink, leaving the bottle half full.
“Guards coming,” I said. “No shells left in my gun.”
“I got two balls left in this flammer,” Cappy said.
“That's all you need, isn't it?” Dimitri deadpanned.
Grace was the first to laugh, then we all had a good thirty-second laugh that dissolved hopelessness. Where there's laughter, there's hope.
Grace, with Brittany right behind, led us down the tunnel at a slow jog. Dimitri protested. She told him she was already dead and the guards couldn't hurt her anymore than she'd already been hurt. Brittany had the same answer for me. Cappy followed next with the flamegun. Last, I supported Dimitri with my left hand and kept the knife ready in my right. He wanted to talk; save your energy, I told him.
Three guards appeared around a sharp corner.
“Halt!” the lead one said.
Grace ran right past him, smacking him on his reptilian forehead as she passed. The second guard grabbed at and missed her. The third caught her and got a fireball in his gut for his trouble. The second fired a ball that streaked between me and Dimitri. Cappy shot number two, and I ran into number one, knife first.
With no time to be fussy, we stripped the bodies. The other three took their vests and belts. Grace was ready for the cover of Flamegun Digest, with vest, bandolier, and latest model flammer. Maybe the centerfold; she still had no pants.
We marched to the end of the tunnel, carefully inspected the guard house cut into the rock, and looked out onto the open expanse of beach at the confluence of the Three Rivers.
“So what's your plan now?” Dimitri asked. As if I had one.
Chapter Twenty-eight
The beach contained little real sand. To the left where the River of Bones curved toward the River of Blood, the beach consisted of mostly pulverized bone. The sand shaded into the rusty red of dried blood as it came closer to the point where the two rivers came together about a hundred yards in front and to the right of us. Individual bones littered the otherwise flat beach.
The rough cliff slabs rose straight up fifty feet before they blended into the blocky fort walls. Half-oval shaped caves dotted the base of the cliffs, which stretched back several hundred yards in a shallow curve to the River of Blood. They were symmetrical, nine to ten feet wide, four to five high. Tracks in the sand came from each cave.
We found a small cistern of water in the guard room. I filled my bottle and washed the blood from my hands and left the rest for the others to wash off the worm slime. Grace came and stood beside me. This was the first chance I'd had to see what she really looked like. Her hair was wet and swept back from a round face with high cheekbones and a wide, strong chin. Her eyes had probably been green when she was alive. They were large and wide set and had a clear don't-give-me-any-shit glint to them, except when she talked about Dimitri.
“Getter,” she said, squinting at the brightness of the beach. “Do you have anything to eat? Dimitri needs something. He was on the Rack for a long time.”
“Sure,” I said, shrugging off my pack and handing it to her. “There's some energy bar things in there.”
“Thanks.” She rummaged through the pack and said, “Do you think you guys will be able to escape?”
“I think we all will escape and live, so to speak, happily ever after.”
“Dimitri always said you were a positive type of guy.”
“Lately, that's a debatable description. Hope is a job requirement. Without it, what do you have?”
“Hell,” she said.
I raised my binoculars, and she went to feed Dimitri and Cappy. I thought I knew what ma
de the caves and a few minutes later saw I was right. From one of the farthest caves a shell the exact shape of the opening emerged. The front and back were identically sloped. Two sharp ridges ran its full twenty-foot length, and with the binoculars I saw that the caves had matching grooves. The shell did not flex and had no apparent eyes or appendages. It glided over the sand, leaving a small dust cloud behind. I'd never seen a Tank before, but I'd heard of them. They moved by rippling rows of razor sharp flippers. Anything it ran over came out the end as a bloody spot on the sand. Tanks floated on the River of Souls, formed by the junction of the Three Rivers, and fed on the empty sacs of flesh before they combined with blood and bone into a complete soul. In the far distance several Tanks fed. In the near distance I saw something else interesting.
“Got any ideas, Getter?” Cappy asked. “I don't like being out in the open.”
Still looking through the glasses, I said, “I thought about hiding in the bones, but they join the blood too soon. What do you know about the Tanks?”
“Don't get run over.”
“Are they lightweight or heavyweight? They float.”
“Light, I think. Seems like Cyclops told me he flipped one over once.”
“Cyclops can flip over a real tank, but, yeah, light sounds right.” Deslimed, Brittany, Grace, and Dimitri joined us. “I have an idea,” I told them. “Can you swim, Brittany? With a strong stomach and some luck, it might work.”
“Grace brings me luck,” Dimitri said.
I laid a hand on his emaciated shoulder and said, “After what you've been through I don't know if I agree with your definition of luck.”
“I'd be dead already without her. Not that it would matter.”
“Dimitri, don't say that,” Grace scolded him. “You must fight to live.”
“I want to be with you forever, Grace.”
“And I with you. But in Heaven, Dimitri, not Hell.”
“I don't care.”
“I do. Hell is not the same when you're dead as it is when you're alive. There's no guarantee we would be together.”
“I'd make sure of it,” Dimitri insisted with more hope than confidence.
“Don't talk crap.”
“Look, don't talk at all,” I jumped in. “We all stay alive, that's the program. Right? Right. We're leaving now. I'll explain what I have in mind on the way.”
Like many womanizers, when Dimitri finally fell for a woman, he fell hard, letting emotion overcome common sense. I was liking Grace more and more. She was a good match for Dimitri, at least in his present weakened and besotted state. She had a good head on her shoulders; I hoped I could keep it there.
We hugged the cliff face, constantly scanning in all directions. At each cave we ducked inside. In one, Cappy took my flashlight and went in about fifty feet. He returned running, a Tank hot on his heels. Close-up the thing was huge. Its slick twenty-foot length came out of the close fitting cave with an obscene sucking sound.
Cappy said the cave was uniform as far as he saw.
Halfway to the River of Blood the first Pragon of Dern dive-bombed us. Grace yelled a warning, and we dropped to the dried-blood sand. The wind of its passing stirred up a copper tasting cloud. It couldn't reach us as long as we stayed against the cliff. Unfortunately, our goal rested a couple hundred feet out in the open. Flames didn't affect the Pragon's dull, black skin, though a fireball down the throat worked. We ran into the next cave. The Pragon swooped and looped at high speed, then would glide past, spitting fire, to glare at us from deep slitted eyes. Pragons were much uglier than their Skyhook cousins. They had powerful, short square jaws and stubby wings. The wings gave them maneuverability, but only at speed. Short, stout legs with long heavy claws, a vicious personality, and the ability to spit flame when properly fed, made them perfectly suited for Mephisto's Helland Security Air Force.
“Now might be a good time to explore the caves more,” Cappy said.
“And if we get trapped back there?” Dimitri asked.
“We're already trapped here.”
“The Pragon can't get us as long we stay against the rock,” I said. “It doesn't have much flame to it yet. We need to get to the shell. I'm curious, too. If we have time, you can go in. As I see it, the shell is our only out. Unless someone has a better idea.”
No one did. A second Pragon appeared. He couldn't get any closer than the first one. We made it to the cave closest to the empty Tank shell I'd seen from the guardroom. The cloying smell of blood hung heavy there, twenty feet from the River of Blood. The shell was about two hundred feet away, a few feet from the river's edge.
Cappy didn't mention exploring the cave. The adrenaline rush he'd been riding since I arrived, had begun to fade. He slumped to the sand beside Dimitri as soon as we got to the cave and closed his eyes. He winced when he touched the burn on his side. Cappy was in better shape than Dimitri, but Dimitri was running on love. As long as Grace stayed around he'd push himself to the limit, and further. I wasn't sure what kept Cappy going: fear of returning to the Resurrection Chamber, anger at what they did to him, or just the hope he could escape alive. I wondered if whatever it was would be enough. I needed to find a safe place to rest, soon. I couldn't push the two men, or myself, much farther.
Grace sat next to me a few feet inside the entrance. We watched a Tank glide out of the river onto the blood sand.
“Think it will come into this cave?” she asked.
“Don't know,” I said with a sigh. I felt the fatigue, too. And despair still had a fragile hold on my gut, ready to grab a handful and squeeze at the least opportunity.
“You need rest, too, Getter.”
“I'll be fine,” I said, Mr. Macho. “Those guys need it bad, though, and I don't see where or when it's going to happen.”
“In back of one of the caves, maybe.”
“It's tempting, I'll admit. I just have a bad feeling about it. And speaking of bad feelings, why aren't there guards swarming all over the beach?”
“We're lucky,” Grace replied, Ms. Positive.
“Yeah, but why? Mephisto should have this whole section covered.”
“Let's just accept it as luck and take advantage, okay? I'm going to check this cave out. Relax, will you. Five minutes, I'll be back.”
“Be careful,” I said, too tired to argue. “Dimitri will never forgive me if something happens to you.”
I sat quietly for a few minutes, mind blank. Then I saw something curious that kick-started my brain. Two minutes later my thoughts went into OH SHIT mode. I roused Dimitri and Cappy.
“What's up?,” Cappy asked, struggling to focus.
“I think that Tank is coming this way and it's got a passenger.”
A Pragon had landed on top of the Tank which continued its course toward us. Cappy perked up when he realized what that meant.
“Where's Grace?” Dimitri said, as I helped him up.
“She's checking out the cave,” I told him.
“What, alone? I have to find her.”
“Stay here.” I grabbed his arm and pushed him to Cappy who held him. I took a few steps in and yelled, “Grace, come back, now. Trouble coming.”
The Pragons couldn't get us on the fly, but on the ground we were demon food. Its limited intelligence must have figured that when the Tank arrived at the cave we would be exposed. We'd have no choice unless Grace came back with some good news. The Tank headed straight for us.
“Grace, get out of there now! A Tank is coming.”
“Grace, please,” Dimitri pleaded, too weak to put up much of a struggle against Cappy.
I put my hand on his chest and pushed him toward the cave entrance. I turned him to face the oncoming demons and shoved a flammer in his hands.
“Try and get a ball down its throat, you got that?”
“But....?” he said, trying to look over his shoulder.
“But nothing,” I insisted. “We go right, stay together, and blast the son of a bitch.” I squeezed his shoulder and said in his
ear, “She'll be okay, man. She's hauling ass out of there right now.”
Cappy came to stand beside him at the right side of the entrance. I looked into the dark of the cave. “Grace, hurry up,” I yelled.
The tank loomed large.
I looked around. My heart stopped. “Where's Brittany?”
“Not up here,” Cappy said.
“Brittany! Grace!”
“We're coming,” Grace called from the blackness.
Relief made my knees weak. I retreated to the entrance.
“Run, Grace. Run,” Dimitri yelled.
The Tank was fifty feet away. The Pragon eyed us confidently. Forty feet. “Hurry!” Thirty feet. Twenty. The Pragon squatted on its thick legs, ready to pounce. Movement in the cave darkness. Ten feet. The girl and the woman ran full speed toward the closing entrance. The Pragon leaped. It landed heavily. With square head tilted back, it let out a screech of triumph. Spittle dripped from the corner of its mouth.
We fired at it. The fireballs bounced off its tough skin. The forward end of the Tank entered the cave. Where were they? I couldn't spare her any attention because the Pragon swiped at us with a wing tip, knocking the gun from my hand, and all of us to the ground. Out of the corner of my eye I saw two shapes tumble off the side of the Tank. The Pragon saw them, too. Its head swung over to eye Grace and Brittany rolling in the sand. Brittany was closest.
The Pragon stretched its neck out snatch her up.
Grace jumped in front of it. “Eat me, you ugly bastard.” The toothy jaws were close enough that she punched its lip.
Surprised, it drew back. Looked curiously at her. Then in one quick movement it snatched Grace by the arm and lifted her off the ground.
“NOOO!” Dimitri surged to his feet. The Pragon hesitated at the sound, dangling Grace a foot off the sand. Dimitri ran up to the surprised beast, stuck the muzzle of his gun between the discolored teeth, and pulled the trigger.
Grace dropped into his arms. The Pragon roared in pain, staggered back a few steps, and burst into flame.
Another Pragon landed in front of the cave and shrieked in sympathy for its burning brother.
Hell Cop Page 21
