by M. K. Gibson
Maz drew his warblade and shrugged off his silken top down to his red-skinned torso. “That, I can do.”
“All right people, we are not dying today!” I looked at Grimm’s body one more time. No one else, I thought. I didn’t know what Ricky was doing, perhaps preventing Grimm from rising as one of Abraxas’s undead. But whatever it was, Ricky was out of the fight for a while. So be it. No more deaths. Not today.
Vali called out to his warriors to pick their targets and to fire at will. Blasts rang out and the room was filled once again with warfare, zombie guts, and ionized plasma. I charged out from behind the energy shields and shot the nearest zombie in the head, blowing it clear off. The body kept moving, flailing aimlessly. I grabbed the creature’s outstretched arms and with a turn and pivot I flung the thing back at the horde.
A large demon corpse had snuck in my peripheral blind spot after I tossed his buddy. The outstretched hands grabbed my shoulder and its gaping mouth lunged for my throat. Maz skewered the thing through its open mouth. The fine edge missed my neck by millimeters. With a twist and a ripping upward thrust, the blade cleaved the head. I kicked it away and fired multiple shots, finishing it.
Wherever I moved to engage the undead, Maz followed close on my heels, twirling his warblade. I had to hand it to Maz—he was pretty amazing. The bishop cut through undead, removing limbs and severing torsos while I shot, ripped apart, and dismembered. It was odd that he and I were fighting on the same side for once. We moved in unison, covering one another.
“I noticed you snuck a promotion in there for yourself,” I said, then ducked a blast from one of our warriors as it blew away a nearby zombie. “Archduke, huh? You think you are ready for that?”
“Grrrah!” Maz growled as he pulled off a complex sword pattern which left two undead headless and a third without legs. “Of course,” he responded. “I wouldn’t have done it if I didn’t think I could win. All we have to do is win, of course.”
I fired a rapid pattern of plasma blasts, dropping zombies and clearing a space for Maz to work. “Won’t you be the first topsider to hold an office that high?”
Maz twirled high then low, removing the head and legs of the closest undead. “Why, yes. Impressive, aren’t I?”
“Yes you are, bud,” I said, switching my pistols to full auto and spraying down fire. Time enough to catch two or three breaths, pick our targets, and re-engage. I took a moment to check on the warriors. They held their own, and they held it well. Vali directed his warriors like the god he was. The Norse warrior pulled the Midheim warriors into tight battle groups, and by god, they fought well. The warriors covered one another, reloaded and fired with precision, unity, and purpose. I envied that. I missed that.
The next sounds I heard were an odd mix: the wail from a giant demon, the howl of a nearly equally giant werewolf, and the metallic clank and electrical discharge of a mechanized giant. Vidar and T tangled with Abraxas as best they could. The archduke was a master swordsman and his warblade hummed as it sliced the air. The necrosive inferium blade glowed red as it whirled and danced, nearly slicing into my friends.
Odds were in their favor, though. It was only a matter of time. Abraxas committed to an attack on Vidar. T struck the demon with several of his mechanical arms, releasing a highly powerful current of electricity. The demon arched his back as his muscles seized. Vidar, in his wolfen form, snapped and clawed into the demon’s flanks, dropping the archduke to his knees. Abraxas swung his blade wildly. Vidar danced out of the way in time, but the blade made contact with T. The low, wide-arcing cut severed his mechanized legs at their approximate ankles. The mech toppled and fell. The secondary seven-foot unit immediately dislodged and scrambled away with a hiss of pistons and gears grinding.
“Kill . . . kill you all,” the archduke panted. Sweat poured from his scalp and ran down his face. He was at his limit.
“Shut it,” T announced from his speakers and struck the demon hard in one temple, while the wolfen Vidar struck him in the other. Abraxas dropped and with him, the remaining reanimated bodies simply stopped and fell. Bodies everywhere slumped like puppets with their strings cut. All around the great hall, parts of the once-living were spilled about on the black and glass floor.
I began to laugh a little. The men and women from Midheim heard me and started to laugh themselves. Soon Vali and Maz were laughing while Vidar howled. The room was filled with the sound of laughing people, happy to be alive, happy to have survived. No one had to say why they were laughing. We all just knew.
“Yeah yeah yeah,” I heard Caitlin’s voice come over the speaker. “Hooray. But I still have people down here. Any clue as how we are all getting out of here?”
“Yeah, Cat,” I said to the nearest camera. I put away my pistols and tapped out a quick message on my bracer’s terminal. “Now pull up the schematic for this place and get your ass in gear and get those people up here.”
“Got it,” she said, punctuated by the click of the intercom switching off.
“So, what is the plan?” I heard a weak voice say.
It was Grimm’s voice.
Turning, I saw him slowly get to his feet with Ricky’s help. Holy fuck me with Lazarus’s dead dick. The bright light that had been glowing from behind Ricky’s sunglasses had now abated.
“Whoa, take it easy,” Ricky said as he helped the wobbly Grimm. “It’s been a while; you forget the toll it takes on you.” I had no idea what they were saying. My best guess would be that Ricky had brought Grimm back from the dead before. And where Grimm once had three streaks of gray in his black hair, there were now four.
“This is starting to become a habit,” Grimm said dryly.
“What? Me bringing you back? I’m starting to think you enjoy it,” said Ricky.
“No,” Grimm said, shaking his head. He leaned down slowly to retrieve his hat and place it firmly on his head. “This only seems to happen when you are around. You might be the other three legs that did not do the rabbit any good.”
“Hardy fucking har,” Ricky grumbled.
Vali walked over and gave Grimm a congratulatory “welcome back from the dead” man hug. The kind where you shake hands and pound on the other guy’s back. Like a normal hug, just with resurrection. Vidar lumbered over and placed a clawed paw on Grimm’s shoulder; Grimm just petted his muzzle. I wasn’t sure if that was disturbing or cute.
Vali moved to give his brother room and stood directly in front of Ricky. The blonde god towered over the stocky bald man. From my vantage point, Ricky seemed to be the giant.
“Trickster.”
“Assassin,” Ricky responded.
“Thank you for saving my friend. I didn’t know that was within your power.”
“Vali, you might think you have a grasp on the bigger picture, but youngster, lemme tell you: you are barely seeing the frame.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Nor should you.”
“This doesn’t square things up with my brother and me,” Vali said, serious.
“Never said it did. But that business with Hod and Baldr . . . there were things you didn’t know and never learned. No fault of yours. My blood brother was just never forthcoming with information. If you ever want the truth, then we can talk about it over a beer. Or old mead, if you prefer,” Ricky said, putting out his hand.
Vali stared at it for a moment and turned to look at his brother. Vidar looked like he was one more ear scratch away from rolling over for a full-on belly rub. The werewolf sobered quickly when he saw his brother looking at him. The beast nodded, and Vali turned back to Ricky and took his hand in a firm shake.
“Don’t destroy this, Trickster.”
“Don’t put an arrow in my back, Assassin.”
My feet moved of their own volition. I walked over and threw my arms around the resurrected mage. He returned the embrace. Funny, not too long ago this man had turned my world upside down, cut my throat, and tortured me for nine days, and here I was damn glad he was back in m
y life.
“Welcome back. I don’t give a good god damn how,” I said.
“Good to be here. Glad to see you were able to win for once without me.”
“Shut up, old man.”
“Isn’t that adorable. Go ring shopping or some shit later. Get over here and help,” Caitlin yelled from across the hall. Her voice broke the moment. I gave him a final look and he shot me a quick wink.
Caitlin had a makeshift litter carrying her sister and a few remaining refugees from Dante’s were with her. Some were more badly wounded from their incarceration than I thought. They limped and made their way to us. I couldn’t imagine the nightmares they’d witnessed.
I hurried over to help her with the litter and several of the warriors of Midheim gave help to those who needed it. We set Theresa’s body down gently and with reverence. I laid a hand on her body and had to turn away a moment. A hand touched my arm. I looked down to see Caitlin looking at me. There was something in her dark eyes. A moment of honesty and vulnerability. In the blink of an eye it was gone, and I was afraid she was going to kiss or slap me again.
Caitlin turned away from me and looked around the great hall. “Wow, y’all really fucked this place up. So, what’s the plan?”
“Yeah bud, what is the plan?” Maz echoed. Before I could answer, spotlights shone brightly from outside through the stained glass. Kuma and the Cyberai’s WHISPER-7 hovered into view. I thumbed a finger over my shoulder.
“Them. They’re the plan.”
“I thought they were a one-way ride?” Vali asked as he helped his men pack their gear.
“They were. I paid them to keep around for a period of time. And a quick rescue if things went to shit.” I gestured around. “And I would say things have gone to shit. And for the low low price of almost double the fee, they were willing to serve as getaway.”
“Thank you then,” the god said to me.
I held up my hand. “Oh, don’t thank me. All you bastards are going to cough up some credits on this one. I didn’t get to be where I’m at by throwing money away.”
“So much for altruism,” I heard Maz mumble under his breath.
“Altruism my ass. You used me as much as I used you. Now cough up some coin or walk home.”
Maz chuckled. “Later, at the bar.”
The bar. That was best idea anyone had mentioned in what seemed like a lifetime. I wondered how much extra it was to have Kuma drop us off directly at Dante’s. Hell, he should do it out of kindness since that was about where he first picked us up.
Speaking of the bar, I saw Ricky walk up to stand next to Caitlin and stare down at Theresa’s body. They were silent for moment, not looking at one another. Caitlin spoke first.
“Hey boss.” She kept her tone low, but I could still hear her.
“Hello,” Ricky whispered back. They continued to stare at Theresa. Ricky laid a hand on the dead Spinoli sister and lovingly stroked her hair. “Poor dumb girl. I told you not to do it. I told you that I would take care of everything. I told you Abraxas was not to be trusted. Dumb girl. You were always smarter than that.”
Caitlin placed her cybernetic hand on Ricky’s. She slowly and forcefully removed Ricky’s arm from Theresa. She turned and faced him. “I saw what you did for the priest.” Ricky nodded. “Can you do that for ’Resa?”
Ricky reached out and pulled Caitlin in for a hug. She resisted, at first, then gave in. “No darling. I can’t. She has been gone for too long. Her soul has moved on. But head up, kiddo. It isn’t really going anywhere. She will be back. In one form or another.” Ricky’s voice was soft, sweet, and reassuring. It was the nicest I ever heard him speak.
Caitlin’s face was buried in Ricky’s chest, and I heard a few short sobs. After a moment, she composed herself. “I didn’t know what you two were up to. I don’t care. But I don’t think I want to be around you anymore, boss. After tonight, I quit.” Ricky just held her and nodded.
I didn’t want to interrupt, but we needed to get going. Abraxas would wake up soon and it was best we were airborne. With his men gone and his power base depleted, he wasn’t going to trouble us anymore. He would soon become a pariah in demonic circles.
That is, if he somehow survived the blast. I was still planning on blowing the place to shit and back.
“Everyone!” I announced to the room. “It’s about that time. If you’re not on that chopper in two minutes, then you are walking home!” I circled my arms above my head and then pointed them toward the giant open double doors that led to the landing platform, where awaited the Cyberai chopper that was our ride home.
Home. Something told me it would never be the same.
Ricky, Maz, Caitlin, and I all took up a corner of Theresa’s litter and walked it out toward the awaiting WHISPER-7. The Midheim warriors followed us, carrying their fallen brethren. Vidar and Vali led the way. Vidar, still in wolf form, bobbed gracefully as he walked, sniffing the air for danger. T, clanking and whirring, brought up the rear, leading the Dante’s survivors from the torture room. From an outside perspective, it must have looked odd. A motley funeral procession of freaks, gods, and demons leaving a Hell-wrought throne room to take skyward in the pre-dawn darkness.
Actually, in this era, it probably looked like a normal morning.
Kuma stood by the open bay, his WELKER cannon replaced by an interchangeable biomech arm. He waved as we approached. I saw him and nodded. He rubbed his fingers in the universal gesture for “money” while raising his eyebrow.
“Yeah, yeah damnit. You’ll get paid,” I yelled. We set the litter down and two Cyberai mercenaries helped load Theresa’s body. Kuma approached and put his hand out, and I took it.
“Looks like your plan worked.”
I looked back at the warriors. Less than half of the men and women who came to fight for me were returning. And those that died had been recently reanimated and made to fight their former friends. No, my plan was a bucket of suck. Did I really think there weren’t going to be casualties?
“Yeah, I guess,” I muttered back at the Cyberai leader. Kuma held out his corporate BEAST machine. “Seriously? Now?” I asked. Kuma just stared at me. “Hard bargain, big man.” I fished out my BEAST and enabled the transaction. Amount, accept, done.
“There, ya heartless big bear.”
“And welcome aboard to you.” Kuma bowed mockingly. “We will be running heavy it seems. You picked up a few more than we dropped off.”
“Gonna be a problem?”
“No. Not for us. That might be a problem though, for you.” Kuma pointed.
“What problem?” I asked, turning. Abraxas stood back at the open doorway from the great hall. He was bent over at the ground by the door on the left, tugging at something in the stone floor. He pulled some kind of lever I couldn’t quite make out, and a small detonation exploded below us.
A pre charge.
The entire landing platform rocked from an explosion. People fell to the ground as the platform listed slightly. It was steady, but only for a moment. Abraxas moved to the other door and began pulling up the stonework there.
“Get these people loaded NOW!” I yelled. Kuma nodded and began tossing people two or three at a time into the open bay while ordering his men to get the chopper ready to lift off. The tri-rotor fired up, kicking up debris and rock.
Grimm came to my side. “Get on the chopper!” he yelled over the noise.
“Can’t!” I yelled back. “If he blows the next charge then this all collapses before we ever take off! Get it? This whole platform goes down and we all die! Get them loaded and get them safe!” I shoved the newborn Grimm hard back toward the WHIPSER-7.
I turned and charged back down the platform garden at a full sprint. Back to Abraxas and back to probable death.
Being a hero blows.
Chapter Thirty-Five
Eleven Seconds
Back before, before the world we know now, I had a few amazing useless skills. Before G-Day I could fast forward my DVR, past t
he commercials, and hit the continuing show dead on. I mean three times and sometimes four times speed. None of that one- to two-speed wimpy stuff.
Also, I could wake up at any time in the middle of the night, look at my clock, and know to the minute how much longer I had to sleep before the alarm went off. I mean exactly. Sleep-deprived, bleary-eyed mathematics. Conversely, when I was fully rested I could barely do simple subtraction.
I charged Abraxas. He was only moments away from setting off the second charge. Another useless skill of mine popped into my head—the ability to approximate the rate of falling objects. We were 2,200 feet up and that was about 670 meters. At 9.8 meters per second squared, that would mean if Abraxas detonated the second charge, then everyone here would hit the ground and be dead in about eleven seconds. The WHISPER-7’s rotors weren’t up to speed to lift off. Even if everyone were already loaded on, they would still fall to their deaths.
In eleven seconds.
That could be a right amount of time for some things, like a punk song or bad sex. But when falling to your death, I guess eleven seconds would be a lifetime to panic as you watched the duracrete street screaming toward you at 9.8 meters per second squared.
Fuck that.
I had to give them time. Seems like all I’ve been doing lately is giving people the time they need. Well, like they say, stick to what you’re good at.
I sprinted at Abraxas and pulled a pistol, lining up a running shot. He had removed the stone tile and had his hand on the charge handle. I fired and the plasma slammed into his shoulder armor, causing him to release the handle. Abraxas looked up at me and a snarl was on his lips. The giant demon roared. His wings shot out wide and he charged me. He lowered his ramlike horns just before impact. I dove out of the way at the last second, but Abraxas turned in a wide arc and his outstretched dragon wing slammed me in the chest, knocking me on my ass.
The archduke turned and dove on me, all eleven feet and 700-plus pounds of him. He slammed his left arm down on my chest, pinning me. His hand was huge, nearly engulfing my torso. He drew back his right fist, ready to splatter my skull. I got my arms up as best as I could and activated my energy shield barrier. His fist connected and I felt the impact jolt all the way through my arms.
