Gears looked up at me, fear in his eyes. “I will, Vinnie, I will.”
“Jesus, Gears, I’m sorry. I just—” I closed my eyes and consciously unclenched my fists. I felt the fire fade away. Gears’ tiny hand patted my shoulder.
“I’ll do everything I can, Vinnie, I promise.”
I left the workshop and went to my office. I shut the door behind me and put my head on my arms. I’d failed my people. I’d failed Petra. My world was collapsing all around me, and I, a god, was powerless to stop it. I ground my teeth and unsuccessfully tried to fight back tears. A few minutes later, I heard my door click open.
“Vincent?” Galahad’s voice. “Son?” I raised my head. He looked worried as he pulled over another chair and sat down next to me. “Gearstripper told me what happened to Petra. I’m very sorry.”
“I was such an idiot,” I whispered. “I should’ve told her to stay with Lotholio. I could have dealt with those things that broke her before she even got there, but instead I played with them. I—” The tears threatened again and I screwed my eyes shut. Galahad put his arm around my shoulders.
“No shame in tears, Vincent,” he said. “Let it out.” But I couldn’t. I was too angry at myself, too frustrated at everything to cry anymore. I shrugged off Galahad’s arm and began pacing back and forth in my office. I swore and ranted for a long time. My powers started to get away from me, books and action figures flew off the shelves, seemingly of their own accord. Papers in the waste basket began to smolder. I didn’t care. I wanted to burn the world, wanted to crush something, anything.
Galahad’s expression was one of compassion and empathy the entire time.
“I swear, when I get my hands on this Treggen, I will tear him limb from limb.” I looked up at Galahad. “No words of wisdom, boss? You’re not going to tell me this is all part of God’s plan, to turn the other cheek or some bullshit like that?”
Galahad walked up to me, placed his hands on my shoulders and looked me directly in the eyes. “Vincent, did you plan for your followers to suffer?”
The comment snapped me back as if I’d been slapped. “What? No, of course not. I didn’t plan for the Urisk to be attacked, I…” I trailed off. I hadn’t planned for anyone to get hurt. All I could do now was to try and make things right. For the Urisk, and for Petra.
Galahad removed his hands. “Vincent, your anger is natural, and to an extent, healthy. But don’t let it cloud your judgment. If you do, you may find that you’ve lost more than just Petra. The Urisk need you to keep a calm head.”
He was right, of course. I nodded. I looked around my office. My action figures were scattered on the floor, papers were everywhere, and the place was a general mess. “Thanks, boss. I’m sorry I lost it there.”
Galahad smiled. “Nothing to apologize for, Vincent.” Galahad moved and his hip bumped my desk. My Pepsi, which had amazingly not been thrown around, fell off and splashed on the carpet.
“Oh, rats,” he said as he bent over to pick up the can. “Sorry about that, Vincent.”
Rats? Pieces suddenly clicked in my mind, and I hastily relayed what I’d just realized to Galahad. “Angels of mercy protect us,” he whispered as he blessed himself.
I was out the door before he could ask any questions. Kristin’s office was a few doors down from mine. I ducked inside. She was out, but I just needed a few things. The first was one of the hazmat suits she wore when in the sewers. The second was one of the pairs of thick rubber boots she kept handy. I found both of those in her office closet. The third was to get a look at one of the sewer maps. It only took a moment to find what I was looking for: a big four-way junction in the sewers, about a hundred yards from Caulborn HQ. Perfect.
I rushed downstairs. I got to the lobby and found Jake sitting at his usual place. “Jake,” I called. “Get the emergency decontamination unit set up next to the garage entrance. Have the Doc meet us out there. Full gear.” I saw him nod and I sped on. I went outside and telekinetically pulled a sewer grate free of its housing. Then I dropped down into the sewers.
The smell was more than unpleasant. My flashlight barely made a dent in the darkness. I sloshed through the muck into a slightly wider tunnel. I took two lefts and a right, and then I was at the junction. It was about the size of the conference room back in the office. It would do.
I let out a short breath. “Okay, here we go.” I closed my eyes, tapped the Urisks’ faith in me and reached out to the rats. I found dozens of them not too far away, and called them forward, commanding them to line up in rows. As the first batch arrived, I reached out farther, and found more. I called these in as well. I repeated the process over and over again. The tunnel began to heat, and squeaks and scratching sounds filled the air. Sweat ran down my face and I could feel the effort draining my reserves of faith. There were a lot more rats than I’d planned on, but I had to keep calling them in.
Finally, I couldn’t reach any further. I opened my eyes and found thousands of rats, all packed on top of one another in the tunnel. I quested out with my mind and found they were clogging the three other tunnels leading into the junction, as well. I had deliberately kept them from coming up behind me. I’d need a clear passage to run through.
Pestilence said he had plans for the rats, and he’d gotten cranky at me when I’d used the rats for surveillance. But when I’d sent the rats forward as a diversion to let me and Megan escape from Leevan’s basement of doom, he hadn’t chastised me. So that meant he didn’t object to how I’d had the rats bite the zombies, zombies which were created by a supernatural disease. Logically, the rats would pick up the disease and become carriers when they consumed the zombies’ flesh. If my hunch was right, Pestilence planned to use the rats to spread that disease throughout the city, and I’d unwittingly helped him out.
Now I just needed to—
I screamed in pain as something tried to yank the rats away from me. It felt like a blazing hot knife had been stabbed into my head. I fell to my knees and swore every curse I could think of. I latched back onto the rats, willing them to stay where they were. They were confused, and the more agitated they became, the harder they’d be to control.
The stabbing came again, but this time I was ready for it, and held onto the rats. The increased exertion was rapidly draining my faith reserves. Pestilence must’ve realized I was doing something big, and he didn’t want his pets to be a part of it. I was running out of time. If I didn’t end this now, I’d run out of power in a tug-of-war with the Horseman.
I took a few staggering steps back up the tunnel. Then I drew on all the Urisk’s faith and conjured fire. I sent a wave of flames down the tunnels, so hot that it incinerated the rats before it even touched them. Their squeaky shrieks exploded in my mind, but I held onto the fire and willed it on. There was nothing down here for it to burn except for the rats. A wall of heat rushed forward, and I drew on even more of the Urisk’s faith to control it. When the immolation was over, when the last rat’s scream vanished from my mind, I used my will to extinguish the fire.
When it was done, I collapsed to my hands and knees and threw up. The smell of burnt rodent and boiled sewage was too much for me. I leaned against the tunnel wall, covered in sweat and filth. I felt at my faith reserves. I was nearly empty, but I had just enough for one more psychic trick. I struggled up to my feet. Now I just had to get out of the sewers.
“CORINTHOS!” Shit. I looked over my shoulder and saw Pestilence mounted on his horse about thirty yards away. “You have disrupted some very carefully crafted plans, godling.”
I started backing away. “Well, I’m terribly sorry about that, Pest. Better luck next time.” The Horseman screamed in rage and drew his sword. The sound of his horse’s hooves echoed down the sewers. The tunnels weren’t wide, but Pestilence was warping them so he could fit the horse through. I used the last of my faith to reach out to the horse’s mind.
Rear up and run, I commanded. The horse neighed and reared. Pestilence, completely unprepared for the
horse’s move, was thrown from the saddle. His head cracked against a pipe and he fell to the tunnel floor with a dull thud. I didn’t stick around to see if he got up. I ran as fast as I could down the tunnel. A moment later, I heard footsteps sloshing behind me, and raspy breathing. And they were getting closer.
Damn. For a wheezy, sick guy, Pestilence could move pretty fast.
I heaved myself up the ladder and poked my head up into fresh air. I scrambled out onto the pavement, rolling and lurching as fast as I could. Pestilence surged up through the manhole. He hadn’t even bothered with the ladder, he’d just leapt up. Which was exactly what I was hoping for.
“Now, Jake!” I hollered. Jake, clad in a bright yellow hazmat suit and wielding a weapon that reminded me of the Ghostbusters’ proton packs, unloaded a thick stream of white foam onto Pestilence. I gave a satisfied grin as Pestilence howled in pain and rage. That foam killed disease and bacteria on contact, and the handful of nasty things it can’t kill aren’t from this planet.
Pestilence’s body smoldered as Jake emptied his canisters, then quickly backed away from the Horseman. Pestilence stood there, his body steaming, his eyes glowing red. He looked smaller, like he’d lost forty pounds and about a foot of height, but he was still there, and now he was really pissed. Damn, I’d thought the hazmat stuff would’ve done it. My mind raced. I was out of tricks.
Pestilence pointed his sword at Jake. “I will deal with you in a moment,” he snarled. His sword swung around to point at me. “But you are first.”
“Horseman!” A voice boomed. All heads turned to see Galahad XI stride purposefully from the building. “It is not your time to have this Earth. Leave us.”
Pestilence stared for a moment, then started to laugh. The laugh had a phlegmy sound to it, and made my skin crawl. “And who are you, mortal, who would defend the son of Janus?”
“I am Galahad XI, knight of Christ and paladin of the one true God. This man and this city are under my protection. I offer you this chance to walk away and end this conflict.”
Pestilence sneered. “You should not challenge a Horseman, human.” He charged forward, his sword rising above his head. To my shock, Galahad met the charge. The sword of blazing white light appeared in Galahad’s hands and he knocked Pestilence’s sword aside. The corroded blade shattered as Galahad struck it. Pestilence was thrown to the ground. The Horseman regarded the remains of the sword in his hand and looked up at Galahad.
The former priest looked down at Pestilence, sword of light shining in his hand. “You will have this world when God deems it time, and not one second before,” Galahad said. “Leave now.”
Pestilence stood and, to my surprise, gave Galahad a short bow. “As you say, paladin.” Then he disappeared in a haze of greasy smoke. Doc Ryan appeared in his own hazmat suit.
“Gentlemen,” he said. “If you’ll kindly step over here.” Galahad was decontaminated, and I shed the hazmat suit and boots. Galahad caught up with me a few minutes later.
“That was a clever idea, Vincent, using the decontamination foam against Pestilence.”
“It didn’t work quite the way I’d hoped.”
“No, but it was very brave.”
“Me? You’re the brave one, boss. You went toe-to-toe in a swordfight against a Horseman of the Apocalypse. That’s pretty cool.”
Galahad only shrugged.
Doc Ryan led us into medical. I’d been spending a lot of time in this room lately. As the Doc did some scans, I slapped my hand to my forehead.
“Doc, is Megan okay? She was exposed to a really nasty supernatural virus that turns people into zombies. Please tell me you’ve done something to make sure she’s okay.”
The Doc looked at me like I had three heads. “Supernatural virus? She had some zombie cuts, but between Mrs. Rita’s decontamination and a false tooth she swallowed, she seemed fine. She’s been under observation for the last few hours, Vincent. There weren’t any traces of a supernatural virus that I could see.”
I told him what had happened to me. The Doc lit a cigarette and puffed thoughtfully for a moment. Then he snapped his fingers. “That flower. It pumped a lot of botanical magics into her, and we haven’t gotten a full picture of everything it might have done. But botanical magic typically counteracts undeath magic, so there’s a very good chance the flower managed to serve as an antidote to this zombie virus you’re talking about. I’ll need to run some more tests on Megan once she’s up and about again.”
As if on cue, Megan came in. She looked perfectly healthy, save for the missing tooth. “I missed some action, huh?”
I quickly filled her in. When I finished, I said, “We still need to deal with Dr. Leevan.”
Megan nodded. “Gearstripper got some results back on Leevan’s fingerprints. Turns out her real name is Sandra Lochman. She was barred from practicing medicine in Europe because of some unethical cloning experiments.”
“And now we have gremlin clones running around.”
She nodded. “I think that explains why they kidnapped Axlesnapper. I’ve got a few more things I need to check on, so give me twenty or so and we can work out a plan.”
“Better make that an hour or so,” the Doc said. “Sorry, Megan, but I’ve got a few more tests I need to run on you.”
Megan’ shoulders slumped. “More? For crying out loud, Doc.” The Doc shot her a stern look and she stopped talking. She looked irritated, and I certainly couldn’t blame her.
“All right, Meg, I’ll come find you in about an hour.” I walked back up to Gearstripper’s workshop and blinked at what I saw. Petra’s marble body was reassembled, held together by some strange golden glue. Gears was asleep on top of her. I touched him gently on the shoulder. A short scalpel dropped from his hand. He didn’t move.
“Gears?” I picked him up. He hung limply in my hands. “Shit, Gears!” I carried him like an infant and rushed him down to medical. “Doc, something’s wrong with Gearstripper.”
The Doc came out of one of the adjacent examination rooms as I laid the gremlin down on a bed, and the Doc looked him over. Gears’ skin was too pale and I couldn’t tell if he was breathing. The Doc asked me some questions about how I’d found him and I answered as quietly as I could. I didn’t want Megan to know Petra’s story; it’s not my secret to give away. The Doc quickly hooked up an IV to Gears, making a tiny cut on the gremlin’s forearm. Gold blood seeped from the vein and solidified around the IV tube.
My breath caught. The glue Gears had used on Petra wasn’t glue, it was his own blood. I quickly relayed this to the Doc, who dashed for the medical wing’s other fridge. He came back with a small bag of golden blood and hooked it up to Gears’ IV. Almost immediately, the little gremlin’s color improved.
“You know how fast gremlins heal, Vincent,” Doc said to me. “He’ll be fine.”
“I don’t get it. If you had a bag of his blood lying around, why didn’t he just use that?”
“Wouldn’t work.” Gears’ voice was weak, and his eyes weren’t open yet. “Has to be fresh. Otherwise, won’t take.”
“Jesus, Gears, don’t talk. Rest. You can tell me everything when you’re better.”
“Food,” Gears said. “Please.”
“You’ve got an IV of sugar water and protein right now, Gearstripper,” Doc said. “Once that’s gone, you can have solids.”
Gears frowned. His eyes were still shut. “Can’t taste that. Twinkies would be better.”
“Gears, I’ll buy you a case of Twinkies as soon as you’re better, okay?”
“Make it two cases and you’ve got yourself a deal, Vinnie.” He smiled.
“Rest, pal.” I patted his shoulder. I looked at Doc Ryan, who gave me a thumbs-up sign. I sighed. Gears would be okay.
I went back to his workshop. The golden “glue” had faded completely from Petra’s body, and the marble was whole again. I stared at her in amazement. Had Gears done this with just his blood? Was there more to it? I wanted to touch her, to see if Petra could move
or hear me, but I was scared that I might disrupt something. Once Gears was back on his feet, I’d learn more.
For now, though, I really needed a Pepsi. I went down the hall to the vending machine, then sat down in my office. I jolted as something moved in my breast pocket. I fumbled out Commander Courageous, who beamed up at me with his “I’m a hero, dammit” smile. Petra must’ve tucked him into my shirt before we left for the Bright Side.
“Glad to see you’re up and about,” Commander Courageous said. “How do you feel?”
I gripped him around the waist and held him up to my face. “I’d be doing a lot better if I knew Petra was going to survive, Commander.” I shook the action figure. “Why did you send her to the Bright Side with me?”
The Commander glared at me. “I didn’t send Petra to the Bright Side with you, Vincent. I kept you from taking Gearstripper. If the gremlin had accompanied you, he would’ve been crushed by the envikan.”
“The what?”
The Commander rolled his plastic eyes. “The crystal soldiers, Vincent. They’re called envikan. There are some things even Gearstripper can’t heal from, and being crushed to a pulp by a five hundred pound crystal warrior is one of them. Because you kept Gearstripper back, there was a chance for him to revive Petra.”
“You knew she’d be shattered and Gears would use his blood to fix her? How? Is it going to work?” No response. The Commander had gone quiet again. I shook him violently. “Dammit, is it going to work?” I demanded. The Commander’s confident plastic smile never wavered. I waited in silence for what seemed a long time.
Chapter 23
Brothers, I have detected two temporal anomalies coming from the Boston area, within mere hours of one another. Both disturbances occurred in the vicinity of Vincent Corinthos, son of Janus. The godling must be monitored to ensure he does not disrupt the time stream and alter history in any way.
-Missive from Brother Abraham Webb, Chronicler of the Fifth Circle, to the Chronicler order at large.
Imperium (Caulborn) Page 21
