I pulled the long thin piece of metal out of my shirt and went to work on the door. It had been a while since I'd had to steal a car, so I was rusty, and it took a minute or two for me to get the lock popped. It went with a satisfying click, and I put the metal away and stepped up into the van. I looked around. It was basically two seats with an empty cargo space in the back. Not comfortable, but functional.
Next, I pulled a screwdriver from my back pocket and jammed it into the ignition and held my breath. This was either going to work, or going to break the ignition. Pray for the former, expect the latter. I twisted the screwdriver, and the engine coughed and sparked into life. I let the breath out, put the van into gear, and pulled out.
I flipped the radio on, and noted with horror it was AM talk. A voice, rough around the edges like it had seen too many cigarette and whiskey cocktails was talking about UFOs and the Wolfman. He had a theory that they were connected somehow, that the Wolfman was an alien, or a genetic experiment gone wrong. After a couple of minutes, I chuckled and turned the radio off. In the intervening silence, the A-Team theme came back to my mind, and I started to think.
Lessee. Who's Face? Oh, yeah. Vlad. And B.A. - no contest - that's Adam. Hannibal? Maybe Henry. Okay, so who's Murdock? I couldn't think of anyone. Hyde? No, not lovable enough. Halfway to the Lot, it hit me. If you don't know who Murdock is in your group, you're the Murdock. I sighed, flipped the radio back on, and drove the rest of the way to the strains of NPR's current musical obsession, which I can only describe as a saxophone caught in a sewer pipe.
*
I pulled up to the castle two hours later, as promised, and honked the horn until everyone came out. I got out, an admittedly stupid grin on my face.
"Where did you get that? The 80s TV prop store?" Vlad asked.
"Beggars can't be choosers, Face." I said.
"What?"
"Uh, nothing. Look, it'll work. We just need to be sure to ditch it somewhere when we're done with it. I don't think driving it back to the store in broad daylight is a good idea."
"One more thing." Vlad said. "We'll need to make a stop at my place in the Hills."
I winced, and waited for the hammer to fall on that statement. I didn't know if Adam knew about it, but he seemed to take it in stride all the same, and I relaxed.
"What's there?"
"Well, if these guys have guns, we'll need protection of our own. I know a guy."
Something occurred to me. "Wait. Why didn't you know this guy when the Church was going all, you know, woohoo?"
"Woohoo?"
"Nuttier than a peanut factory."
"Ah. He was...indisposed."
"What, did he have jury duty?"
Vlad shifted a bit. "He was in a small country. Helping overthrow it."
"Jesus, you're scary."
Vlad blushed a little, which I was surprised to see a vampire do. I could have pursued that conversation a little further, but it came rushing back to me that time was of the essence. I turned and popped the cargo door open.
"All aboard."
They filed in, and after a moment of getting comfortable, we drove off, to the Hills, and High Noon.
Chapter Thirty-Two
Vlad's "guy" was a small Columbian man with a thin moustache and a $3000 suit. He had several cases that looked like heavy-duty luggage already laid out in Vlad's living room, and a garment rack full of combat vests. He didn't say much, but then he didn't need to. He let his merchandise do the talking. We sat down, and he popped the lids on the cases.
The room seemed to grow a shade darker in the presence of all those weapons, like the world knew bloodshed was coming. Maybe it was a brownout. Those happen, too. I took a look. The guns were nestled in foam that looked like egg crating, and the variety was staggering. Benellis, Rugers, Barettas, Glocks, and more, oh my. Just as intimidating were the rounds he had assembled - flechette, full metal jacket, hollow-point, sabot - it went on. There were even a few things I recognized as phosphorus and frag grenades.
The group picked out a combat vest each, and then set to the weapons. Henry took a knife. Cora picked a small assault rifle, and Adam took a shotgun. It was my turn, and I saw them. A pair of matched M1911s. I grabbed a few clips of hollow points and loaded them into the vest's pockets. The 1911s went into a pair of crossed shoulder holsters. I tested the draw out, and figured it was reasonably fast.
"Satisfied?" The small man asked.
Vlad nodded, and dropped a small silver case in front of the man. "This should cover it, Pablo."
Pablo opened the case, nodded, and stowed it away. Vlad left instructions for him to clean up and lock up, and we left. A little way down the road, I turned to him.
"You trust that guy alone in your house?"
Vlad smiled a little. Just enough to show teeth that were white and sharp. "He's a good guy. Also, he's terrified of me."
Ah the ol' 'a little healthy fear makes for good bedfellows' relationship. Being a monster myself, I understood that. We drove on in silence for a little longer. The trip up to Reznick's place wasn't that far, as the crow flies, but on the road, we had to deal with it switching back and forth as it climbed the hill. I was concentrating on traffic when I heard a sound from the back of the van, a low music that rose as we went. I glanced back, and saw Henry's lips moving as he sang, the sound growing until it echoed off the metal walls, filling the van like a dirge.
Holy water cannot help you now
Thousand armies couldn't keep me out
I don't want your money
I don't want your crown
See I've come to burn your kingdom down
Holy water cannot help you now
See I've come to burn your kingdom down
And no rivers and no lakes can put the fire out
I'm gonna raise the stakes, I'm gonna smoke you out
Seven devils all around you
Seven devils in your house
See I was dead when I woke up this morning
I'll be dead before the day is done
Before the day is done
The sound faded into the background, and we were left with the sound of the engine and the tires. The house loomed ahead, a mansion built like a fortress behind wrought-iron gates and stone walls. Light flooded from it like a flare signaling a surgical strike. I cleared my throat.
"Hold onto something. I'm gonna knock."
Chapter Thirty-Three
I had just enough time to hear Cora say from the back, "You're going to what?", and then I stomped on the gas. The van surged forward with a lurch, and I pointed it at the iron gates and prayed. When I had seen them from a distance, they looked purely decorative, and probably were. Reznick struck me as a man who needed to keep up appearances. Instead, the grounds of the mansion were probably crawling with guards. The van hurtled toward the black metal, and I had the unpleasant image of us slamming into the gates, and coming to a complete stop. It came too late though, and we were through, the metal shearing aside with a squeal.
I had time to get a glimpse of the man in the guard shack on the other side of the gates, his face open in a comical 'O' while the van tore past him. I whipped the wheel to the side and slammed the brakes as soon as we were past, blocking off the driveway and putting the cargo door to the back, so as not to expose us to unnecessary incoming fire. I peeked out the window for a split second while the dust settled. The grounds were immaculately kept, green and rolling. Shrubs and flowerbeds decorated the space, with large shade trees here and there. Closer to the house, a low retaining wall ran parallel to the house, a huge hacienda with red clay tiles for a roof. Men, dressed all in black and carrying some impressive hardware were coming down the lawn. I ducked into the back of the van and joined the others.
"Okay. This is it. Henry, Cora - you guys sit tight and watch our backs and the van. Vlad, Adam -"
"Ja."
"We're all out of bubblegum."
There was the sound of weapons being readied. A part of me was s
till waiting for gunfire. I pulled one of the 1911s free and chambered a round. I took a breath, counted to three, and popped the cargo door, and dropped out, crouching. There was a spang as a bullet hit the side of the van, and I ducked lower and glanced around, trying to find the source. The guard from the shack was standing on our side, a slick black pistol in his hand. He fired again, and I snapped off a shot that took him in the knee. He dropped the gun and fell to the ground, clutching the wound. I turned back to Vlad, who was peeking around the front of the van.
"One down."
He snorted. "Looks like about twelve to go."
As if that were a cue, they opened fire, the bullets tearing into the van. Cora and Henry rolled out a second later, unharmed.
"If they fuck like they shook, we don't have to worry about them having kids to come back and get us." Cora said.
Cora's rifled rattled, short controlled bursts that stopped the incoming bullets. She cursed and ducked back. I wanted to know where she learned to shoot, but figured this wasn't the time.
"What's up?" I asked.
"That damn wall. They're hunkered down behind it. It's going to take a few hundred thousand bullets to chew through it."
Henry duck-walked over to where he sat, and peeked around front.
"Let's see." He said. He started to wave his arms in a complicated movement, creaking out words in some ancient dialect or another. A shot twanged out from the direction of the house, and I saw it pass through his arm in a puff of cloth and dust. He paid it no attention.
He finished up with a guttural sound, like someone clearing their throat, and there was a feeling in the air like someone had just plucked a giant guitar string. Shouts of dismay rang out form the end of the lawn, and I risked a glance. The wall had collapsed into a pile of sand, leaving men exposed and confused. I took that as our cue, and opened fire. The others followed suit. When the smoke cleared, there was the smell of cordite in the air, and bodies on the ground, some caught halfway between the former wall and whatever they thought might provide cover.
"Count 'em, Vlad. We can't afford one of them sneaking up while we're busy."
Vlad moved. It's hard to describe how a person goes from being there one second, and a blur the next, but he did just that, moving from body to body in a few short seconds. He returned quickly, barely even sweating.
"That's all of them."
I nodded. "Good."
Sirens wailed in the distance, and my heart sank. I had forgotten you couldn't just blast through a private gate and shoot up a house in a very rich area of town without attracting some attention. I looked at the group.
"Guys, you're gonna have to hold them off. Try not to kill too many of 'em. They're just doing their jobs."
Adam put a hand on my shoulder. "I'm coming."
"Uh, no."
"You want to fight Hyde by yourself?"
I shook my head. "Good point." I turned to the others. "Good luck."
I looked at Adam. "Let's go get that boser hund."
Adam smiled. "You are embarrassing, Wulfy."
We headed toward the house.
*
The front walk smelled like blood, and I could hear the Beast begging for an excuse to go for a run. I tamped him down and stepped to the side of the front door, Adam at the other side. I looked at him and nodded, and he reached out and popped the handle. The door swung open on silent hinges. After no hail of bullets greeted us, I went low and peeked around the door. The interior was bright, a tile floor leading to a double staircase and a landing above.
"This is probably a trap." I said.
"Ja."
"Okay." I said, and fired off six shots toward the balcony. Almost immediately there was return gunfire. I ducked back beside the door as bullets tore the tile floor to pieces and ripped chunks of plaster out of the walls. The sound inside was like a buzz saw.
"I think Hyde has a freakin' 50 cal."
Adam shrugged, pulled something out of his vest pocket, and chucked it inside. There was a beat, and then the house shook like someone had rung a giant bell under it. A cloud of dust, some of it pink, some of it white, and some of it black, drifted out the front door. I could smell smoke and fire and blood.
A deep voice chuckled from inside. "Well, that was a surprise." Hyde's voice sounded thick, like he was having trouble breathing.
I stepped inside, Weaver stance, pistol at the ready. The dust had started to settle, though the drywall was still on fire in places. The balcony had collapsed, and Hyde lay half underneath it, part of his torso and his legs trapped under several tons of rubble. There was a hole in the ceiling above, and I could see the moon. I stepped closer to Hyde, and saw blood running in a trickle from his mouth. That wasn't a good sign. If you bled from the mouth, something had gone very wrong inside, like throwing a bolt into a piston hole. He coughed, and wheezed, trying to get his breath. After a moment, he had it, more blood running down his chin.
"Where's Reznick?" I asked.
Hyde gestured to the hall to my right. I turned to Adam. "Make sure he's there."
Adam turned to go, and I was just about to kneel next to Hyde to see if I could do anything for him - he was still one of us, after all, in principal, if not spirit - when he lifted his hand and shot Adam in the back with the pistol he'd been hiding. Reflex took over, and I fired a single shot - directly into Hyde's forehead. His eyes rolled back, and he went limp. Good riddance to bad rubbish.
I rushed over to Adam, and turned him over. His breathing was shallow, but he had the vest on.
"Get this thing off me, Wulfy."
I helped him out of the vest, and saw the wound, a small hole in his back. It must've been an armor-piercing round. He turned himself back over and scooted until his back was to the wall. He propped himself up, and checked his shotgun. He smiled at me.
"I'll be fine. No more walking tonight, though." He looked to the hallway. "Go. If the cops get here, I'll shoot at the walls until they leave us alone."
I patted his shoulder and tried not to let worry show. His smile had been pink. I checked my guns, and found them empty. I tossed them to the side. Probably wouldn't need them for a norm like Reznick anyway. Big and mean or no, I was pissed, and naturally armed. I set off down the hall.
*
Reznick was sitting in a dark room with the TV on and muted. He had his back to me, and a thin spiral of smoke rose from his cigar. He heard me come in and ticked his head to the side.
"Told that big stupid bastard we needed silver and holy water. Cocky bastard."
His hand moved in shadow, and I saw him pick up a drink. It glowed a soft purple in the light, and warning bells went off in my head. I surged forward before he could get it to his lips, and knocked the glass away. It shattered on the floor and ran into the grout. He sighed, heavy and defeated.
"He told me if I drank that, I could be like him. All that power."
I ignored his maudlin mood. "You killed your kid, and pulled me into this. Why?"
He shrugged. "Sometimes a man does what he needs to."
"Yeah, I guess so." I grabbed his head and twisted it once, sharp and fast. There was a cracking sound deep in his neck, and he dropped the cigar. It began to smolder on the couch. I let go, and his body slid to the side, until his face stopped on the armrest. Flames had begun to lick at the fabric. I made my way out.
*
Lifting a 300 pound beast like Adam isn't easy. It's like trying to carry a sack of angry potatoes. I got him as far as the door, and thanked God Vlad saw us. He came and picked up the big man like a child. We piled back into the van, Vlad fretting over Adam.
"He going to be okay?" I asked.
Vlad nodded. "Yeah, he's tough. Remember, survived being made from other people."
Something nagged at me. I watched the flames inside the house, licking at the walls and lighting up the windows until it came to me.
"Where are the cops?"
Henry shrugged. "Never came."
"Huh." I started th
e van, a little worse for wear, and we left. Outside the gate sat a single sedan, two shadows inside. I recognized Sheling and Mack even from that distance. I just kept driving, turning back the way I came, but before I did, I could have sworn the bastard winked at me. Maybe he wasn't such a dick after all.
Nah.
Chapter Thirty-Four
Life doesn't always end with a pretty bow in a nice box. No more cops showed up at the Lot, but that didn't mean it wasn't a mess. We'd done some work in cleaning up the police tape and fingerprint dust and detritus of a full scale law enforcement invasion, but there was a ways to go.
The church was less than understanding about us burning one of their senior members alive, but they agreed to keep the lights on and the water running in exchange for a few favors. In addition, they were helping with cleanup, so it wasn't all terrible.
My office was a shambles, also having burned to the ground, and if I expected to continue to buy food and clothing, I'd need to spend what I had saved to open a new one. What a pain in the ass. It was also coming up on license renewal. Thankfully, I knew a guy in the department who might help with that. Too bad he couldn't help with the ticket my Cavalier had picked up overnight in that alley. I swear, it's like they're Peck-seeking assholes.
Sheling left us alone for the most part. Every now and then he called to check in on me, pry me for details, but for the most part, he was content to leave well enough alone. I had the feeling he was the one that diverted the cops that night, though neither of us talked about it.
Adam and Vlad had gone back to domestic bliss, with Henry still disapproving from his museum home, though for a while there he had been almost as much of a mother hen as Vlad while they tended to Adam's wound.
We had a nice service for Manny. Adam built a cairn over his resting place, and Vlad said a few words. I drank a lot that night. Sometimes I still do.
The Lot Page 13
