Blood Curse: Book 2 of the Blood War Chronicles

by Quincy Allen

  “Gotcha.”

  Jake took off his hat and dropped it on the floor for safekeeping. Then he closed his good eye and dialed the ocular to full open. “And remember, once their eyes recover from the flash, they may be able to see as well as I can.” Jake remembered the goggles worn by the assassins back in Denver. “Don’t assume for even a second that they’re blind.”

  “There should be enough light from the gunfire for me to get in and find a shady spot,” she replied confidently.

  “Be careful, kiddo.” With any other sixteen-year-old, Jake would never let them go in there. But it was Skeeter. She was the toughest, smartest teenager he’d ever known. Besides, he thought, she’d find an excuse to go in there whether I said to or not.”

  The lights went out.

  The darkness was almost complete, but the aether gave off a faint light of its own, tinted green. Jake could see everything. Muffled words drifted to his ears from the cargo hold. They’re in there, he thought.

  “Now,” he hissed, drawing his other pistol.

  Skeeter twisted the tops of the poppers. In one motion she slid across the opening, threw them, and ducked back behind him.

  Jake counted to two, turned the corner, and started hammering down the hall as loudly as possible. He wanted them to hear him.

  Three.

  A trooper stepped into view beyond the doorway with a short carbine rather than a chaingun. He and Jake fired at the same time.

  The trooper missed.

  Jake didn’t.

  Four.

  Their chainguns spun up right on queue. He leaped, flattening out in the air and closing his eyes tightly. He slammed onto the floor and slid, his arms covering his head.

  The hold was filled with the thunder of chainguns and carbines as a hailstorm of bullets filled the hallway at waist-level. Splinters flew, and chunks of wood dropped down on him as he slid toward the opening.

  Five.

  With a double-BANG the popper and flasher detonated. The light glared through his closed eyes, and the concussion slowed him. Men screamed, and bodies thudded into walls.

  Jake rolled onto his back as he slid to a stop just beyond the doorway. Two jump-troopers had collapsed on each side of the door and were slowly getting up. Jake shot them both in the back of the neck. Their helmets jerked as the bullets passed through their skulls and out the other side.

  They dropped where they stood.

  He rolled to the right as fast as he could, knowing what was coming. Chaingun rounds tracked down the wall and riddled the floorboards where he’d just been. More splinters flew, but he was already up, leaping on top of a stack of crates near the doorway. Bullets traced after him, and he dropped down flat on his stomach as they tore into the crates beneath him.

  He started counting again.

  The chainguns went silent as the troopers searched for a target. Jake popped his head up to get a look at what they were up against.

  The cargo hold doors were open, exposed to the Traleil. Szilágyi had a hastily arranged a pillbox of crates in the middle of the hold. There were troopers on both sides of the barricade, facing the exits. He spotted two men near the far door and several scattered around positions throughout the hold.

  He ducked his head back down as several pistol shots whistled past his head. Four … he counted has he covered his head.

  Five!

  A popper went off near the far doorway, and both troopers positioned there screamed. He’d told Cole to throw his own popper after the first ones went off. Jake stuck his head up again to see the two men by the far door sailing through the air. One slammed into a nearby wall and dropped. The other crashed into some crates in the opposite direction.

  Jake rose quickly, fired twice at the trooper against the wall, and dropped back down. Pistol fire hammered into the crates beneath him and the wall behind.

  “Trage de înaltă și joasă!” a man shouted from within the pillbox.

  It’s Szilágyi, Jake thought. Good. We can end it here and now.

  Chainguns opened up, aiming for the far doorway and filling the corridor with lead and splinters. The burst of a chaingun firing from the far side of the other corridor, aimed toward the hold, filled it with orange light.

  Jake rolled to his left several times, spotting a gap a few feet away. It opened up on onto the hold but was out of the line of fire. Ten feet beyond he could see a square opening in the top of the crates. He figured that’s where the trapdoor lay.

  Something metallic clattered across the floor to his right. He closed his eyes again. Two seconds later the double-BANG of a popper and flasher went off between the doorway and the barricade.

  Skeeter was coming.

  Jake rose to his knees as four troopers leaned over the barricade, aiming their chainguns. He opened up on them, both Colts firing again and again. He dropped two of them, but the other two ducked back down out of sight. Jake had one round left in the Peacekeeper and two in the Officer’s Colt.

  Out of the corner of his eye, Jake spotted Skeeter dashing in through the doorway. She rolled over a row of barrels on the far side of the hold and disappeared. She was in a perfect spot, but now he only had three shots left.

  Scooting away from the edge, Jake lay back and set his pistols on his chest. He pulled the popper from his waistband and primed it. He wanted to clear the area on the floor near where Corina would emerge, and it was all he had for the job.

  A chaingun spun up in the gap beneath him, only a few feet away. He turned to see the barrel and a trooper’s helmet rising over the edge. Jake rolled. His left arm moved like lightning, gears screaming. He grabbed the barrel and aimed it at the ceiling just as it went off. The roar deafened him as splinters rained down from above.

  Jake dropped the popper into the gap. The trooper looked down, but it was too late. The explosion sent him shooting like a rocket into the ceiling. The chaingun twisted in Jake’s hand as it went silent.

  The trooper dropped back down into the gap with a thud. Jake rolled over after him, his pistols clattering onto the floor. He reversed the chaingun in his hands, covering the entrance.

  The trooper moaned and started to move, so Jake stomped once as hard as he could on the trooper’s helmet. It partially collapsed beneath the impact with a crunch of bone. The trooper’s body shuddered once and went still.

  Keeping an eye on the entrance, Jake picked up his pistols one at a time. The Peacekeeper went back in its holster. He held the Officer’s Colt in one hand and the chaingun in the other.

  A man screamed and gurgled somewhere off to Jake’s left. Two chainguns spun up and fired in that direction. The room fell silent for a few seconds, and then he heard feet shuffling from the same direction followed by another burst of gunfire.

  A chill seeped into his bones, and Jake knew the Lady had come up through the trap door. A man screamed from that general area, his voice cutting off with a horrible, flesh-tearing sound.

  “Vampir este aici! Ferește-te!” Szilágyi shouted.

  Jake didn’t know what it meant, but he recognized the word Vampir. Szilágyi knew Corina was in the room.

  Shadowcat’s voice, smooth and silky, filled the room. “Există doi dintre noi, nenorocitule.” It sounded as if it were coming from everywhere … and nowhere. The whole room was in shadow and Jake remembered the dark man’s words: I have a way with shadows.…

  Another man screamed and gurgled. More gunfire, but Jake suspected Shadowcat was playing his own game now.

  “You never should have boxed yourself in, Szilágyi!” Jake shouted. “You’re running out of men.”

  Szilágyi said nothing, but a burst of gunfire tore up the entrance to the gap where Jake crouched. He waited patiently. It was almost time.

  There was an exchange of gunfire off to Jake’s left, and then Cole yelped in pain. Jesus, Jake thought, worried for his riding partner.

  Holding the chaingun between his knees, he dialed his ocular down, and the room went black. Just a few more seconds, he
thought. Hefting the chaingun again, he cocked the Officer’s Colt as quietly as he could and stood up. He slid slowly along the crates, stopping when he could just see the far edge of Szilágyi’s barricade. The green abyss of the Traleil Sea filled the cargo hold doors.

  He took a few deep breaths in preparation, and then he closed his eyes. As he inhaled, his breath burned in his lungs. He was running out of time.

  The lights came back on just as Jake expected, and several troopers yelped. Skeeter rose and threw two poppers. They sailed through the air toward the barricade. Jake depressed the trigger of the chaingun and leapt across the gap, turning in midair as it spun up.

  A trooper fired as Jake’s back slammed into the other side, and the bullet whistled past his ear, embedding itself into the crate. He fired once with the Colt. The trooper took it in the center of his helmet, a neat forty-five caliber hole appearing, and he jerked backwards.

  As the poppers landed inside the barricade, Jake’s chaingun cooked off, hammering into the three other troopers who were drawing a bead on Skeeter. Jake sprayed them with bullets, staggering them back as he poured lead into them. One went over the edge of the cargo hold, and Jake expected him to fall from view. However, the trooper just floated away, weightless.

  The chaingun clicked empty, the scream of the electric motor ramping up. Jake dropped it as a trooper inside the barricade jumped toward where the poppers had fallen. Three more troopers hopped over the near side, headed toward Skeeter. Jake spotted a red sash across the chest of one of them.

  Szilágyi, he thought. Two more went over the other way, and several shots rang out from Jake’s left. The two furthest troopers staggered and dropped to the floor.

  The poppers went off.

  One trooper had presumably leapt upon one of them, because he shot up, his chest on fire and smoking. He bounced off the ceiling and dropped back down behind the barricade while another went flying out through the hold doors, sailing out into the Traleil.

  Jake shot his Officer’s Colt at the trio running in front of him as he drew the Peacekeeper. The troopers were between him and Szilágyi, protecting the colonel. Two single shots rang out. The first hit a trooper in the neck, and he went sprawling. The other hammered into the second trooper’s shoulder. The man bounced off the cargo hold doorframe and tumbled out.

  Szilágyi leapt over the barrels where Skeeter hid, but Jake was already running, trying desperately to fill his lungs.

  There was a brief scuffle behind the barrels as Jake ran. He leapt. Gunfire erupted from somewhere behind him and bullets hit the floor where he had been standing. There was more gunfire and men screaming.

  “ENOUGH!” Szilágyi shouted, rising from behind the barrels with his sword pointing down at Skeeter.

  Jake crashed into both of them, and all three slammed into the wall, dropping to the floor in a tangle. Skeeter had been knocked out from the impact, and Jake shoved her limp body behind him, rolling toward Szilágyi.

  Now Szilágyi was focused on him and not Skeeter, but she wasn’t out of danger yet.

  Jake rose as Szilágyi’s sword came down. It hit Jake’s upraised left arm with a clash of metal. Jake leaned forward and pushed hard with his legs, smashing Szilágyi into the wall.

  Szilágyi caught Jake with an uppercut. A wash of stars flashed before Jake’s eyes as he wrapped his arms around his opponent. Jake leaned hard to his left, and they tumbled over the barrels onto the floor, rolling toward the doorway.

  Quick as a cat, Szilágyi rolled off Jake and rose, slashing at him with the sword. Jake rolled back just out of reach and spun on the floor. He kicked at Szilágyi’s legs and was rewarded with a satisfying CRACK! of bone breaking. Szilágyi screamed and dropped, slashing at Jake again.

  Jake caught the blade in his clockwork left and clamped down. Szilágyi pulled, trying to break the blade free of Jake’s grip, but it only pulled them closer together … just as Jake had hoped. He shifted again, curling his legs up against his chest.

  “Enjoy the Traleil, you son-of-a-bitch!” he gasped. He kicked out with everything he had. His boots caught Szilágyi in the midsection and the man shot away … through the doorway … into the Traleil Sea.

  Szilágyi screamed as he shot away from the hold. “It was supposed to be YOUUUUUUUUuuuuuu …!” he yelled. His arms flailed desperately for a few seconds, and then he went still, accepting his fate.

  Jake’s breathing was labored, and it felt like fire in his lungs. He was almost out of air. He got up on his hands and knees, trying to take one full breath … and failed.

  His vision blurred, and his gasping was loud in his ears. There wasn’t any more shooting, and Shadowcat spoke in low tones somewhere off to his left.

  Ruby’s voice filled the hold, but it sounded distant to Jake. “Almost there,” she said over the comm. “Just hang on. We’re coming in facing south, Corina, so you’ll be safe.”

  Jake’s arms betrayed him, and he collapsed back down onto the floor. At least the rest made it, he thought. Then the world went black.

  Chapter Twenty-three

  One Last Detail

  “Sometimes ignorance really is bliss, and the truth is poison in your veins.”

  ~ Jake Lasater

  Jake opened his eyes and immediately closed them again. Someone had removed his ocular. He opened his right eye, and the ceiling filled his field of view.

  He breathed normally … through a mask. He tilted his head and found Shadowcat, Skeeter, and Cole standing near the barricade, staring at him expectantly. Their smiles lay hidden behind breathing masks, but there was no mistaking the relief in their eyes. They were all gasping faintly as he watched them.

  Cole’s bandana was tied around his thigh, blood seeping down his jeans. The rope burn around his neck was a harsh, mottled pink ring of scar tissue. Skeeter had a large bruise forming around her left eye, and her cheek was swollen. Shadowcat, however, was unscathed. Jake reckoned that wasn’t an unusual circumstance.

  Beyond them, Corina sat on the floor, her eyes closed and her back against a crate. Her hands rested gently on her knees. She didn’t have a mask on.

  She also didn’t appear to be breathing.

  “Corina!” Jake shouted, scrambling to his feet. He was wearing her mask.

  “It’s okay,” Shadowcat gasped, holding out his hands to stop Jake. “She can stay like that for … well … a long time.”

  Jake stopped short, staring at her.

  He felt the tingle of a shadowgate as they passed through. There was a flash of light, a moment of darkness. Jake turned just as a blue sky filled the doorway. A mountain range spread out beneath him as he stepped to the doorway. The hold was thankfully cast in the ship’s shadow just as Ruby had promised.

  “We made it!” Ruby cheered over the comm.

  “Glad to see you moving about, amigo,” Cole said, but his tone had a slight edge to it. Jake sent him a questioning look, but Cole turned his eyes to the Traleil.

  “Yeah, Jake,” Skeeter added. “We thought you were gonna buy it.”

  Jake could see the clear air swirling into the hold as aether poured out, swept back behind Pandora Celtica. Everyone took their masks off as Jake stepped up to them.

  He looked at Skeeter. “Sorry about the shiner, kiddo,” he said, sounding embarrassed.

  “It’s better than being dead, Jake. And now that’s one less you owe me.” She smiled, which set him to smiling. He affectionately ruffled her hair a little and then moved past them all to Corina, crouching in front of her.

  “Corina?”

  She opened her eyes and looked at Jake. Her smile was like sunshine after a lifetime of rain. He leaned in and kissed her gently, a tender thing that warmed them both.

  “You made it,” she said quietly.

  “Thanks to you,” he replied, smiling back at her. He rose, held out his hand, and helped her up.

  Turning back to them he said, “We still have one problem.”

  “What’s that?” Shadowcat asked. />
  “Ghiss,” Cole said grimly. “He’s still around here … somewhere.”

  Ghiss’ arm appeared in the upper corner of the doorway as he threw a glass vial into the middle of the group, but only Jake and Corina could see it.

  “Hold your breath!” Jake shouted as he and Corina dove to the sides.

  The vial shattered on the floor in the middle of the group. And everyone went still. Jake and Corina rose at the same time, facing Ghiss, who now stood in the doorway. He was dressed all in black again, but his hat was missing. The straps of a jetpack were cinched against his slim, metallic shoulders, and his pistols were trained on the group standing motionless in the middle of the floor.

  Jake’s hand was already heading for his Peacekeeper when Ghiss said calmly, “You’re empty, so don’t bother.”

  Jake froze, and then relaxed. Ghiss was right, and there wasn’t a thing he could do about it. His eyes were filled with impotent rage. In that moment, all he wanted to do was empty his Colts into Ghiss’ metal face.

  “You son-of-a-bitch,” Jake growled.

  “Jake?” Corina asked warily, wondering what she should do.

  “Stay where you are, Corina.”

  Ghiss ignored the exchange, looking squarely at Jake. “You should be more careful with that phrase until you know a man’s parentage,” Ghiss said calmly. But Ghiss’ tone had changed ever so slightly, as if the mercenary were somehow actually affronted. Jake wondered if Ghiss even knew who his mother was.

  “Bastard?” Jake asked, his voice full of venom.

  “The same rule applies.” Ghiss paused and then tilted his head to the side slightly. Again Jake knew he’d seen that head tilt before. It was starting to drive him mad. “It’s time you considered the bigger game being played here. Roswell is just one piece on a very large chessboard. Consider this: most of Cromwell’s northern army was undoubtedly wiped out by the second Dragun, as well as the bulk of his air force.”

  “You sabotaged their shield, didn’t you?” Jake accused. All he could see was a classroom full of dead children. “Opened them up to that slaughter.” Jake said. He made no effort to hide the loathing in his voice.