Lightning Blade (Ruby Callaway Book 1)

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Lightning Blade (Ruby Callaway Book 1) Page 15

by D. N. Erikson


  “I have a good idea,” Marshall replied, a little smugger than I would have liked. “But I doubt you do.”

  “I can guess,” I said, uttering the words through gritted teeth.

  “The chips refer data back to me.”

  “That’s it?”

  “With a little research, yes, that is all.” The mantra intensified. “Do not be so disappointed, Realmfarer. You are extraordinary.”

  “Glad I have your seal of approval.” My gaze still focused on the shadows, but for an undead army hell-bent on revenge, the reception area remained shockingly orderly. But then, if you hid out in a time loop, discipline came with the territory.

  I shivered. Marshall’s pure will was holding them back from tearing this place down to the studs.

  “You could join me, Realmfarer.”

  “I think you’re doing just fine on your own,” I said. “MagiTekk R & D.”

  “Beautiful.” At least Marshall didn’t lack for modesty. The necromancer was clearly a fan of his own work.

  “Is that what they’re calling domestic terrorism these days?”

  “Casualties are necessary.” Heavy breathing. “But then, you understand that, Realmfarer.”

  “Don’t tell me what I understand.”

  “You are correct,” Marshall said. “You have no idea what is going on.”

  “Enlighten me.”

  There was a hesitant sigh on the other side of the blockade. After a little hemming-and-hawing and pacing, Marshall said, “You are open to an explanation?”

  “Sure,” I said. My gaze was focused on one shadow in particular. The only one that seemed to move, disappearing from view only to reemerge.

  With sweaty fingers, I adjusted the shotgun, resting it on a tilted shelf.

  I just needed for him to step out.

  “I do not like to talk about myself,” Marshall said, suddenly feeling shy.

  I wasn’t buying it. “I saw your speech.”

  “The one they play every year.” The words were bitter. “But none of my recent work.”

  “Recent work?”

  “I mark the anniversary with a reminder.”

  “What kind of reminder?”

  “I reanimate one of those responsible.”

  The governor’s shouted words to Administrator Warren on the first day came roaring back to me. His outburst hadn’t been hyperbole. I understood how the killing part alone would be alarming to the general populace.

  But seeing them reanimated was another level. It challenged the fabric of society itself, the bedrock institutions that people had relied on for years. Amidst the towering concrete jungle, I hadn’t noticed many cathedrals or churches.

  Faith was in short supply these days. Everywhere, it seemed.

  “You are impressed,” Marshall said, the statement more of a probing question. It dawned on me that this was a recruitment drive. Roark would obviously be impossible to win over, but I was still a wild card.

  Or so he thought, in his hopeful, vengeance-addled brain.

  “Maybe,” I said, playing it coy. “Tell me about your relationship with Roark.” When he didn’t answer, I added, “Colton.”

  “You are stalling as you remove his chip, strange one.”

  Not good. We were backsliding from Realmfarer—practically a first-name basis in lieu of an actual name—to impersonal monikers.

  “I prefer Ruby,” I said.

  “If you are not interested in my cause, then simply say so.”

  “We’re just talking.”

  “That is all anyone does.” Marshall’s voice took on a harsh tone, and his chanting army responded in kind. “There is no action.”

  “I think we’re getting there.”

  “One chip could have been a mistake.” It sounded like he was now talking to himself. “Perhaps I had gotten the enchantment wrong. This time loop is not my magic, I thought. Mistakes happen. Even to those like me.”

  “This isn’t your loop?”

  Marshall steamrolled past my question, “But then the other chip within your wrist goes out minutes later. That’s too much coincidence. And so I check the logs.”

  “You don’t say.”

  “And you and Colton are at a clinic. Working together.”

  “Just like you wanted when you bound us.” There was a long silent, filled only with the faint breaths of the ravenous army. “Wouldn’t want to disappoint you.”

  There was no laugh. “I realized that one of you is alive and aware. It must be the strange one, I say.”

  “I’m flattered.” I felt inside my pocket for the shells. Not enough. History was repeating itself, twenty years later. Instead of a last stand, I needed to keep stalling. “How’d you know it was me?”

  “Because Colton has not made this much progress in almost a year.”

  I didn’t have a response locked and loaded for that one. Today had lasted for almost a year? It defied the mind’s capabilities of understanding to fathom everyone reliving the same motions without knowing.

  Conscious without being aware at all.

  I opened my mouth to respond, but then I saw it.

  The glimmer of silver hair and a pale arm. Here was my opportunity.

  I gave my answer in lead—or diamond and silver, courtesy of MagiTekk.

  Marshall screamed.

  And then the dam of willpower broke, all that vengeance and disappointment pouring forth as his horde charged the blockade.

  33

  I scrambled backward, pumping shots at the suddenly enraged army. Chaos now ruled where order had reigned moments before, the creatures stampeding over one another to be the first to remove my head.

  The shotgun’s spread pushed against their advance, but they had more bodies than I had bullets. I popped my final shell into the chamber and aimed at a vamp who was yanking against the first fallen shelf. His efforts were inefficient, but he was strong enough for it not to matter.

  The sharp metal corners dug through the drywall as he ripped it away.

  I pulled the trigger, turning him into a sea of red mist.

  Then I retreated, sprinting down the hallway.

  I had seconds, not minutes. The blockade had only held because of Marshall’s hope that I could be wooed to the dark side. That hope had clearly died when I’d shot him. Guess this was his way of demonstrating his disappointment.

  Had I killed him? The mangy horde had rushed forward too fast for me to tell.

  “Serenity.” I pounded on the exam room’s thin door. “Goddamnit, Serenity.”

  Not receiving a response fast enough for my liking, I kicked in the knob. The wood splintered and I rushed inside.

  “He’s recovering, Ruby.” Her long black hair drifted over her eyes as she shook her head. For his part, Roark looked checked out an immobile.

  This was not going to work.

  “An hour my ass,” I said.

  “Better to under promise and over deliver. Especially knowing you.”

  I’d have been insulted, but I couldn’t be bothered with more pressing matters screaming in the hallway. Serenity heard them, too, or at least became aware of them, because her entire body stiffened like she’d stuck her finger in an electrical socket. Before she’d been willfully ignorant, concentrating on the surgery. Now reality flooded her senses, and fear rushed into the corners of her eyes.

  I looked at the bloodied bandage on Roark’s back and said, “Can he walk?”

  “He’s sedated.”

  “Then we leave him.”

  “You’re going to—”

  A shelf tipped over in the hall. “This isn’t up for debate, damnit.” I figured that, at the very least, the chips being toast meant that our temporary bond was severed.

  Nonetheless, I’d be lying if I didn’t mention I had some
trepidation about that.

  Or maybe those were feelings. Getting torn limb from limb in a time loop wasn’t a friendly fate.

  “You’re sure it’s a time loop?” Serenity asked, eyes filled with a second unspoken question.

  “Pretty fucking sure.” The scraping and roars grew as the mob fought one another for the privilege of being the first to rip our throats out.

  Before I could say anything else, Serenity grabbed Roark’s service weapon, squeezed her eyes shut and pulled the trigger. The gunshots exploded in the tiny exam room, leaving a humming noise in my ears.

  I blinked twice, staring at the hole in Roark’s head. I was still alive, at least.

  Looked like Serenity had done her job.

  She handed me the service pistol and said, “First, do no harm.”

  “I guess.” My mind spun for a moment. That was pure compassion, overriding her hatred of violence. I let the shotgun slip from my fingers.

  It was useless without bullets, and I’d be reunited with it soon enough.

  I grabbed her arm and plunged out of the room. Glancing over my shoulder, I saw a wolf crawling over the debris, another creature at his tail.

  I fired two shots, hearing a muted yelp for my troubles.

  I cut down the hallway, going left. Serenity resisted my pull. “The exit is the other way.”

  “We’re making a stand,” I said. Then I let go of her arm. “You can run.”

  She looked hesitant. “Circle back around the front and get them from behind. Better odds.”

  “Look at you,” I said, checking the clip. “A regular little Napoleon.”

  “I’ve learned things from you.” Her expression told me they weren’t good things.

  “Well, they’re coming in handy now.” Because I wasn’t spending all day chased by feral creatures. Dispatch these, and Marshall, and I would have hours of leisure at my disposal. Giving me the opportunity to chase through this sordid mess and figure out how to end it for good.

  Playing catch-up was a bitch.

  I followed Serenity toward the emergency exit. Bright lights flashed as she thrust her weight against the push bar. An alarm drowned out the rhythmic chant as we plunged outside into a back area. There was a medical dumpster near the door, its presence marked by hazard logos.

  “Through the fence.” Serenity raced ahead before I could yell to wait. People not trained in battle did stupid things. Like not allowing those with the guns to take the lead.

  This was no exception.

  She reached the open chain link fence, and I heard the bark of a gunshot. Serenity buckled, clutching her stomach. My own turned over, but I didn’t rush over to help.

  That was a good way to get yourself killed.

  Instead, I crept forward, service pistol raised. Silently, I moved toward the wobbling gate, the rusted metal creaking as I moved across the well-worn asphalt. I watched a shadow approach from around the corner, the swishing hair giving Marshall away. His attention was focused on Serenity, who wasn’t moving.

  I held my breath, peering through the corroded metal.

  His silver hair came around the corner, and I squeezed off a shot, the diamond studded round shattering with his shoulder with a bracing crack. He crumpled near Serenity, groaning from the pain. Blood streamed from the wound in rivers, but his spasms told me he was still alive.

  I rushed over, kicking his gun away. I could’ve shot him again, but some instinct told me that I needed him alive. That, up against death’s door, he would somehow be more cooperative. Sometimes a Realmfarer’s skills were difficult to explain, even to oneself.

  Marshall burbled in protest as I kicked him over and planted my boot against his shoulder.

  “What are you planning?” I asked.

  “We could change the world together, Ruby.” His muscles shook from the pain. Say what you wanted about MagiTekk’s ethics. They made one hell of a supernatural suppression round.

  “I’ll pass.” After tossing Roark’s gun away, I reached beneath him and extracted the long, curved blade from its scabbard. Pointing the gleaming tip at his throat, I said, “How’s it feel?”

  “Less disappointing.”

  I pressed the point into his pale skin hard enough to draw blood. His one good eye blinked back at me from beyond the ski mask, glowing intensely as the shoulder wound stained his cascading silver hair yellow.

  “What about now?”

  “You understand that I will be reborn, just like you.”

  “Good point.” I brought the sword up for a brief moment, then plunged it into his good shoulder. He howled in pain, his face contorting in agony. “Ready to talk?”

  Marshall said, “You do not understand.”

  I slid the blade loose and shook the blood from it. “I really don’t have time for this.”

  The high-pitched laugh came. “MagiTekk is the source of evil. Not me.” He coughed, still laughing. “I only want to cut the head off the snake.”

  “So we’ve covered.”

  “I’m sure you’re pissed about the competition winning—”

  “This is not about money,” Marshall said. “At least not for me, strange one. For them, who can say?”

  This answer was less than impressive, and I let him know by removing some of his fingers. It was odd, seeing him broken like this. But everyone had their tipping point, and most people found theirs long before they expected.

  Marshall might’ve been a necromancer, but that didn’t make him brave or a warrior.

  Still, he had his crusade all the same.

  “If you win, Ruby,” he said, between cries, “You must promise something.”

  “I’m not cutting a deal with you.” I raised the sword high, ready to relieve him from his head. For the two times he’d run me through like a stuck pig. His good eye shut tight, body shaking either in shock or fear.

  He said in a pleading voice. “Please don’t.”

  “You’re not giving me much incentive to keep you around.”

  “You must not let MagiTekk win,” Marshall whispered, his haunted eyes looking at me fiercely. “Just as I cannot let you win without a fight.”

  Before I could leap out of the way or put him down, I heard a fatal click.

  “Train well, Realmfarer,” Marshall said, a pained grin on his face. “For the game has now truly begun.”

  I tried to step away, but he grabbed me with one of his wounded arms. As I tumbled to the pavement, I felt his breath against my cheek as he whispered the fateful words.

  “The first rule, strange one.” A hidden button released, signaling nothing good. “Always have a failsafe.”

  And then Solomon Marshall’s body erupted into a sea of flame, taking me with him.

  34

  Day 24

  I slashed the pen through the fourth name, red ink dripping from the dog-eared paper. My skin was unburnt and cool but I could still feel the searing heat. My jaw popping from the temperature. With a shudder, I waited for the cavalry’s familiar approach.

  I wondered how Solomon Marshall could live like this for almost a year. Three weeks in and I was ready to scream. But the more I thought about it, the pen shaking in my fingers, the more I realized this wasn’t anything different.

  The thought of revenge had kept me going within these walls for more than two decades. And, as I barely aged, those twenty years here in Tempe were little more than an endless loop. The same daily routine, repeated over and over. Carving out the slightest advantages and leads, planning meticulously for days and years for my one shot.

  When it came down to it, most of us lived in time loops, one way or another. Running in place without moving an inch.

  I craned my neck toward the cabin’s door. It should have come flying inside by now, Captain Stevens ready to jam his rifle down my throat. This was how things went,
after all. Nothing could change.

  But as the minutes ticked by, punctuated only by the soft sounds of my bunkmates’ breathing, a sickening realization took root in my stomach.

  Captain Stevens wasn’t coming.

  The necromancer had changed the game, shuffled the deck after I’d solved most of the puzzle. A new day with new rules now awaited, after enduring the same bullshit over and over.

  I slipped the paper into my pocket and let the pen tumble to the ground. Through the tiny windows, I peered out into the moonlight night. I could see nothing but rows of cabins. Trying the door, I found it locked—typical in the nighttime.

  But I had gotten in here only moments—or weeks, depending on how you wanted to look at it— before, defeating the same mechanism. I padded over to my bed, searching beneath the covers for the thin electronic surge strip. Perfect for overriding circuits.

  Placing it along the doorjamb, I stepped back and waited.

  Nothing.

  Lockdown.

  Heart rising in my chest, I realized that someone must’ve tipped Captain Stevens off. A call just as he was closing in—a disruption to the normal course of events. Marshall had my tracking data from the one day. And if he worked through it, there was no doubt he could tell that Captain Stevens was the key cog in the machine. The ignition point for everything that followed.

  Remove that, and there was no Roark. Nothing that would allow me to exit from this room before it was too damn late. By sunrise, Roark and everyone he knew would be dead, or on their way to a grave. MagiTekk’s R&D building would be ash.

  And the necromancer would have his own little army to roll over the smoldering landscape.

  All while I was helpless to stop anything trapped behind an electric fence.

  Right now, though, my problem was the door. Merely getting outside was a challenge.

  Today was going to be a long day.

  I pounded against the door, yelling and screaming. The creatures that shared the cabin told me to be quiet, in no uncertain terms, but otherwise no response came. No containment team marching through to whisk me off to solitary.

  Not even a buzzing reprimand through the intercoms, telling me to knock it off.

 

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