I looked over to the last of the three, Paulie. Under my look, he smiled and shook his head. "Nope, I'm staying up here. Good luck, though."
I shrugged. No surprise there.
"And I have some stuff for you," said Delilah, grabbing some things from her bag. She seemed almost embarrassed when she continued. "So I was upset about... well, everything. And when I feel that way, I need to do stuff. Keep busy. So first." She pulled out a bottle of Bushmill whiskey. "For when your brother gets better."
Hearing my brother mentioned made me hurt again, but I very much appreciated that she said when he gets better, not if. I nodded in acknowledgement.
"And this is what I spent most of the time on," she said as she pulled out something very familiar from her pack.
It was my katana. She had wrapped it in cloth because its sheath was still with me. I hadn't picked it up in Jack's lair, as my brother was more important. She must have grabbed it when we left. As I unwrapped the blade, I realized what she had done. It had been covered with filth and Jack's blood. Now it was clean. And oiled. It gleamed even in the meager light of the warehouse.
"Proper weapons care is important to me," she said, her tone still embarrassed. "And I did have all that energy, as I said so I -"
Her words were cut off into an alarmed squeak as I hugged her immediately. She was tense at first and then relaxed.
When I let go of her, she simply said, "I figured you'd need the katana."
"And that brings us to the real problem with the plan," said Meat. "Well, I guess it's not a problem, but you may not like it."
"What?" I asked.
"I'm sure that you expected this, I mean it's your plan. We've gone over the strengths and weaknesses, all our assets and possible gear. We've talked it over backwards and forwards and there's no avoiding it," he continued awkwardly. "You gotta be the bait."
This Means War
I was okay with being bait. It had been my plan. I had expected to have a risky role. But more than that, it got me into the action. No waiting, no watching. My vengeance could be personal. Then again, so could Jack's.
Getting back down to the Undersystem was easier this time. We didn't have to walk for nearly a day. When we had come up carrying Szandor, Delilah had kept track of that location. That alley wasn't quite as private as Meat's parking garage in Chinatown, but since it was raining heavily and our crew was smaller, we didn't attract any attention. We parked Meat's SUV at the opening of the alley and unloaded all our gear. Four people instead of two made it much easier than I planned. We then took the long ladder back down. I barely recognized this route due to the fugue I had been in last time. I was glad that Meat and Delilah had decided to come as well. They were the ones who had mapped the route and paid attention to the signs. Jericho was still sullen and silent, so this trip probably would have been worse with just him for company.
Once we were back in familiar territory near Jack's lair, we started planning and setting the trap. Once again, I was glad for the extra help. We had a lot of gear to setup, and we'd be in compromising positions while doing it. We hadn't forgotten that there was a pack of ghouls down here that had both chased us and dropped a deuce at our camp. We didn't want to attract their attention or get ambushed by them. Our numbers were less than before. Then again, so were theirs.
We did what we could without power tools. Then when they were necessary, the rest of us stood guard while Delilah used them. I actually got to hold her custom P90. I didn't think she would let anyone touch it, but she saw the need for having an automatic weapon when she was suspended by climbing hooks dug into the walls and using a loud drill. The sound echoed when she did that, so that was when we were most vulnerable. Meat was already armed to the teeth, so I was the best candidate for the P90. It felt nice holding it, like being in a rich guy's Ferrari. Except in this case, it was something not bought due to midlife crisis but instead to cause death in rapid succession.
Luckily, no ghouls had come to attack us by the time Delilah had finally pulled herself back up.
"We're done," she said, stowing her drill and taking back the P90.
I nodded and took a deep breath. Time to psych myself up to being bait. I was nervous, but it was the right call. It wasn't just about my plan and my vengeance, it just made sense for me to go. I was going to Jack's crevice to wake the beast and then run like hell. Jericho had a prosthetic leg, and while he could walk well and even run, we didn't want to depend on a leg like that for the plan. Delilah was staying with the equipment and we had agreed she would not be taking any risk. That meant it was Meat or me. Of the two of us, I was the better runner and was younger than him by a few decades. And this was my risk to take, not his. He could walk away. I couldn't.
Delilah handed me two flares. I would only need one, but things go wrong so easily. I put them into my jacket and strapped on my katana. I shouldn't need it, but I felt safer with it than without it.
"Here, take this," said Meat. He handed me one of his pistols. "You might need it."
It wasn't one of his gigantic pistols, but it was still a solid pistol, one I could swear I had seen him hug lovingly when he thought no one was looking. "For serious?" I asked. While Meat handed out some of his less interesting hardware, he tended to keep a tight hold on the guns he loved.
"Rutger 22/45 MKII," said Meat. "Enough stopping power for all your needs, assuming your need isn't shooting Jack. And hopefully light enough for your arm."
"Thanks," I said, somewhat surprised. "I mean, I'll use it well -"
"Just bring it back to me... and yourself alive too," said Meat, not making eye contact during the surprisingly sentimental moment.
"Seriously, don't die," said Delilah. "It will fuck up the plan. Also, cause it would be nice to have you back."
I nodded to Delilah and then turned to Jericho. He grunted his readiness and we turned down the tunnel. While he was not making the run with me, he was my backup. The route between Jack's lair and the trap needed to be clear. If a ghoul or alligator pounced on me while I was running, it would kill both the trap and me. Jericho would be the one to take care of any interference before I got there.
"This is where we part ways. There's nothing worthwhile I can say here," said Jericho. "I have lost your respect and you ally with me begrudgingly. I will not try to defend myself or how I have spent my life. I will say that it has just been an honor serving with you. We will kill the beast today."
"I'll do my fucking best to make that happens," I said.
Jericho shook his head sadly at my attitude but stuck out his hand nonetheless. I grabbed it and shook it, finding his grip as firm as ever. Then he stepped away, carrying his harpoon and his body ready for action. As I walked my own way, I spared one look at him, seeing both the badass I first thought he was and the old, tired man I knew he really was. With luck, a chapter in his life would close today. And then hopefully I'd never fucking see him again.
I pulled on my night vision goggles and made my way to Jack's lair - that was what we were calling the room with the big crevice. Jack had been lurking there and clearly had been having his meals there, so that was a lair for our purposes. My only hope was that he was still there. I hoped that Jack hadn't fled after the wounds we had given him. If it was already too late... well, for the sake of my vengeance, I tried not to think about it. I didn't want to return to the side of Szandor's bed to whisper my failure to his comatose body.
I took a left at the split at the intersection where we had the argument and ultimately divided our group, condemning one half to injury and death. I carefully walked down the slime-covered incline, trying not to trip and not to make noise. Yes, I did want Jack's attention, but I wanted when I was ready and on my own terms. I didn't want Jack to find me flat on my ass from slipping down the sloped tunnel. When I finally reached the landing, I steadied myself. The plan was that I run into the room with the lit flare, make a bunch of noise, wait for Jack to come up, and then run, leading him back to the trap. Similar to wh
at Fala did, but without betraying her friends and getting eaten.
At this moment, when I needed my head in the game, my focus absolute, I'll admit I thought of Carly. For a moment I thought of her smile and wondered if she was waiting for me or if she had gone her own way already and I had lost her for good. I thought I should be up there, not down here. Then I shook my head. It was too late to turn back. It was too late to change my mind.
Pulling my goggles off, I took a deep breath. Then I lit the flare. It burned brightly, the fizzing sound filling the small tunnel. Then I ran forward, entering the chamber and running across it to the crevice.
And I found that I had interrupted a party.
Standing by the crevice were three ghouls. Two carried spears, clearly guards. They were already looking in my direction because of the sound of my boots and the hissing flare; the light just added to the disruption. The third was the ghoul shaman. He still wore the skin of an albino alligator. The shaman had his arms up in supplication or ritual. His mouth moved, but whatever he said was in whispering tones and covered up by the hissing of the flare.
But that wasn't even the most surprising part of this strange scene. In the flickering flare light before them was Jabberwock Jack. His white form was raised up from the great crack in the rock, his single ruby red eye facing the shaman and his guards. But rather than roaring or attacking, Jack swayed back and forth hypnotically, almost like the entranced cobra in a fakir's act.
The guard ghouls wasted no time in responding to my intrusion. Their faces twisted into anger and they screeched. Then they came at me. I jumped to my right, dropping the flare and just narrowly evading a thrown spear. I fumbled in my jacket for Meat's pistol. As the other ghoul guard moved toward me, brandishing his spear rather than throwing it, I finally got the pistol into my hand. I switched the safety off and fired.
Unlike my brother, I am actually a good shot with most weapons. The pistol discharged with the sound of thunder. A red spot blossomed on the forehead of the ghoul with the spear. He fell backward, the spear clattering to the ground. But then the now-unarmed ghoul rushed forward before I could aim at him, his clawed hand batting the gun out of my hand. It clattered to the floor as the ghoul charged me. I spun like a matador and the ghoul narrowly missed me, stumbling a few steps past me. Turning toward him, I pulled the katana from my back and settled into a stance I had copied from a samurai film.
The ghoul hissed at me threateningly but seemed to acknowledge that I had the weapon advantage, keeping its distance when it clearly wanted to leap at me to claw my eyes out and feast upon my flesh. I'm not sure if the ghoul understood that this was a mutual impasse. He was holding back because he was unarmed and had the shorter reach, but I was also reluctant to make a move. We had moved away from the light partially into the darkness. I was slowly backing toward the fallen flare without making my disadvantage obvious. The only light I had was the flare - the last thing I wanted to do was charge the ghoul and start fighting in the dark.
Ultimately it was the shaman that broke the stalemate. The chanting shaman was behind me when I heard his voice raise from a whisper into something more throaty and guttural. I turned my head, making sure the shaman wasn't trying to attack me, but he was still in supplication, chanting as Jack swayed. But in the moment I turned my head, the other ghoul attacked.
When I swiveled my head back forward, I had a face full of frothing ghoul leaping toward me. I acted instinctively, swinging my katana and taking a step back. At first I wasn't sure how I did. I had felt the resistance in my arms as the katana hit something and then came free. I felt warm blood splash on me. I wasn't sure if the wound was superficial or not, because the ghoul was still standing, almost right on top of me. However, in a moment I noticed that the ghoul had frozen in place. I took a step back and the ghoul fell forward, dead. His guts spilled out onto the ground.
I looked around for further danger. The shaman still had not attacked but instead continued chanting. His words had raised in crescendo. Jack had still not attacked. I took this moment to sheathe my katana and retrieve both the pistol and flare. Then I stared at the scene in front of me. I noticed that Jack's swaying matched the cadence of the shaman's chanting. Did he control Jack? Or was he merely placating Jack?
I knew that whichever the possibility, both were problems for our plan. I needed Jack's attention and if he was angry too, that might be a plus. Maybe. The shaman kept stealing glances at me, worried, but he kept his chanting, maybe knowing he couldn't break the spell he had over Jack. But that wasn't enough to deter me. Holding the pistol, I aimed at the shaman. I barely paused before I pulled the trigger and filled the room with noise again. With a croaking gasp the shaman fell. In the silence after the chanting and the gunshot, there was only the fizzing of the flare.
In that silence, Jack's swaying slowed. It took a few seconds, but then his long body was still. The red eye seemed to blink a few times, as if just coming to his senses. Then he looked down at the dead ghouls and at me. I'm not sure if he was angry that they were dead or that I was alive and holding a flare. He threw back his head in a massive roar. The room seemed to shake and fill with the noxious fumes of Jack's breath. I knew at once this was bad, really bad, and I didn't need one of my Bad Feelings to warn me. I turned and ran.
Jack's jaws snapped closed behind me. This put an extra spin in my step. As I passed through the exit onto the landing, I could hear Jack's body sliding across the pitted floor behind me. I had Jack's attention and all the danger that came with it.
I'll admit there was something I didn't account for in my plan. I hadn't remembered that the slime covered tunnel had been so steep. When I had gone up it, I had been in a daze, caring only about my brother's body. I must have had someone help me up the tunnel. Now as I tried to climb up it, the slickness of it and the sharp incline were against me. I couldn't run up it, as I found my boots slipping. I had to grasp the walls to move. And then Jack slid into the tunnel below me.
You know what's worse than being on a slimy slide where you can barely keep your footing, frantic to climb up? When the massive jaws of death open up below you on that slide. A quick look backward showed me that Jack had gotten his head into this tunnel, opening his mouth on the off chance I slipped and fell, giving him an easy meal. What was one saving grace is that this was a narrow tunnel and it seemed Jack hadn't used it before. He was having a tough time getting into it. That didn't mean he was stuck. What it meant was that he was forcing himself, breaking the rock of the tunnel, his white scales making an ugly noise where they scraped against the stone.
I admit that I panicked. I clutched at the walls strongly, willing myself to not trip. Jack's actions were causing bits of the ceiling to fall down, pebbles bouncing around me. The tunnel itself shook.
And then I slipped.
I caught myself. I am so fucking glad I caught myself. My fingernails clawed into the slimy rock near my feet with both hands. The flare slipped from my grasp, bouncing down the tunnel behind me. Jack opened his mouth wider to eat the flare, but it instead hit his snout and stuck. Jack didn't like the flickering light and closed his eye. I liked that this kept the tunnel lit since I had no free hands to light another flare or pull on my goggles.
Jack was stunned by the light that blinded him, but not for long. He soon began thrashing, something that further shook the tunnel. I pushed myself, working my slipping boots on the rock below me, pushing - practically sliding - myself up. And then in one final second, I was up on level ground again. I gave a prayer to what powers that were for this, getting a gasping breath into my lungs as I stood up.
I immediately lit the second flare and turned to see Jack. His thrashing had dislodged the other flare. I was of two minds here. One wanted to laugh at Jack's situation, still trying to push himself through the small tunnel but trapped at least for the moment. The other knew that I needed him to follow me and wondered if Jack needed my help.
I shouldn't have worried. As soon as Jack saw my new flare,
he let out a deafening roar, the stench of his breath billowing up the tunnel to reach me even above him. Then his thrashing began with renewed effort. I heard a crunch of rock and then I was in danger again. Jack was suddenly rushing forward up the slimy tunnel.
Turning on my heels, I began my own run. These next tunnels might be damp, but they were solid. I ran past the intersection with the argument and headed down a long tunnel. I was halfway down it when I heard the loud noise of Jack forcing his body through the intersection, breaking off part of the wall. Jack was on a rampage. He wasn't sliding through these tunnels with anything resembling grace, he was trying his damnedest to catch me and he was not about to be deterred by rock or cement.
I burst through an access hatch, the metal door swinging back behind me to slam against its frame. This was the huge chamber that we had camped in. Up above and to my left was the shack on its cement platform. Below me the water was flowing in as strong a current as it had when we camped here. There was a maze of catwalks above me and in front of me. I could get lost if I didn't know which one to take. But we had mapped this out. I knew the way.
I ran up some metal stairs, my boots banging out a frantic rhythm. Two quick turns and I was now on a metal grate bridge that went straight across the room toward another access door on the other side. Jack hadn't entered the chamber yet, so I heard only my feet banging on the metal, the hiss of the flare, the rushing water, and the beat of my pulse. I held the flare high above my head so that I had enough light for the speed I was going. It was like the Olympic torch in a sporting event that involved running away from a sea serpent.
Then there was the next complication: ghouls.
Two ghouls were in front of me on the long bridge. Both held spears. There was some surprise in their faces as they saw me rushing toward them. Why hadn't Jericho taken care of them? I had both the gun and the katana, but did I have time to stop and deal with them?
Jabberwock Jack Page 21
