The Man Who Walked in Darkness (Miles Franco #2) (Miles Franco Urban Fantasy)

by Chris Strange

  “Butter?” I suggested.

  “No. More like yogurt.” He squeezed the handle, and the blade retracted instantly. “But beside the point. You’ve been working for AISOR.”

  Something about the way he said the company’s name sent dread spilling through my veins. “Depends on your definition of working.”

  “Hmm, funny. Unfortunately, makes you an enemy.”

  “Wait, what? Did I get that right? You’re at war with AISOR?”

  He nodded, and a murmur of assent passed through the group. “They don’t know it. Not yet. My people inside the company will soon change that.”

  People inside the company. Like Zhi Lu?

  “Excellent,” I said, thinking fast. “I don’t like them either. They killed my friend. I think. Tried to kill me as well. I didn’t appreciate it. How about we work together? I don’t know what they did to you, but I reckon we can get the cops to bring them down if we give them enough evidence.”

  Bohr looked equal bits sad and insane. He finished his cigarette and stepped on it. “No. Maybe before, but no. Not now. Going to burn them. Burn them all, and take what we need.”

  “What you need?” I said. “I’m a bit slow. Help me out here.” A bell rang in my head. “Wait. Bohr? Your name’s D. Bohr?”

  His eyes flashed and his teeth glinted.

  “Your name was on a bunch of scientific papers along with Kowalski’s. You’re an interdimensional physicist. What the hell are you doing running a gang?”

  He moved closer, until he was only a foot from me. “Cigarette?” He slipped his hand into his jacket and offered me the pack. I shook my head, and he pulled one out and lit it up for himself. “Kowalski betrayed me. All my ideas. They didn’t agree with what I wanted to do with them. Cut me out. When I spoke out, tried to have me killed. So I had new ideas. A new plan.”

  “I got a feeling I’m gonna regret asking this,” I said, “but what plan?”

  The tip of his cigarette glowed. “Revolution. Hostile takeover. Just need a weapon.” I shrank back from the look on his face. The bastard’s crazy. I need a miracle.

  A shout echoed through the factory from somewhere behind me, and all heads turned toward the noise. I tried to twist in the chair, my heart skipping like a schoolgirl in a playground. Holy shit. This miracle stuff has good timing.

  A crackle of gunshots rang through the air. Far away, I could hear the bat-creatures screeching in response. It was the cops. It was Vivian. She’d tracked me.

  “In here!” I shouted. “Thirty plus sons of bitches with big-ass guns. Watch the—”

  Stretch’s elbow collided with my jaw. Something popped. My ears rang. It felt like someone was scraping the bone with a screwdriver. I tried to swear, but my mouth wasn’t working properly, so all I could manage was, “Urgggh.”

  The gunfire stopped abruptly. Had the cops killed the Collectivists outside? No, wait, that was automatic gunfire, not handguns. It was the Collectivists shooting.

  I tried to move my mouth again. It hurt like a son of a bitch. Stretch glanced at me and grunted. He put his palms on either side of my face and tucked his fingers around the back of my jaw.

  “Wait, what are you doing?” I tried to say. It came out as: “Aaaigh, ough aah ooo oiee?”

  He jerked my jaw forward, and something popped back into place. Fire swept through my jaw. I’d definitely need to put ice on it.

  By the time I finished swearing, everyone had gone quiet. They were looking toward the door, and now I heard some groaning and scuffling. I managed to spin the office chair enough to see what was so interesting. My heart did a nosedive into concrete.

  There were three of them being brought in at gunpoint, but they weren’t cops. The stockiest of them was bleeding from a wound in his side and another in his hip. Vei were normally pale, but this one was gray. His two friends were Vei as well, wearing the same clothes I’d last seen them in and looking like they hadn’t slept or showered in two days. In fact, I could still see speckles of blood on the cuff of the tallest one’s shirt. My blood. It was the bastard who’d cut my ear outside the hospital. Aran.

  A gangster waved his assault rifle at the Vei brothers and spoke to Bohr. “They were sneaking around outside. Must’ve followed the blackhawks in.”

  Bohr’s face twitched. “You.” He studied Aran, almost smiling. “Thought you’d attack us sooner.”

  One of the gangsters next to Aran was holding a backpack. He unzipped it, revealing what looked like white bricks with small electronic displays inserted.

  “Hmm, explosives,” Bohr said. “Trying to blow us up, yes?”

  Aran said nothing. His eyes were cold as they swept across the crowd of gangsters, defiant. Then they fell on me, and his face turned to stone.

  Bohr saw. “You know this man, Miles Franco?”

  I met Aran’s eyes. What the hell was he doing here? Part of me wanted to kill him myself. His wounded brother groaned, his blood pooling on the concrete. I pictured Penny Coleman lying in that hospital bed. Was she still alive?

  “I think I’d remember an ugly mug like that,” I said, then I shrugged. “Never seen him before.”

  I couldn’t tell if Bohr believed me. The seconds of silence stretched on, only spoiled by the shuffling of the wounded Vei as he tried to rise.

  Then Bohr spoke. “All right. Take them to the other room, yes? Ask questions later. Deal with our friend here first.”

  The gangsters nodded and escorted the brothers away. Two of them carried the wounded one between them, blood staining their clothes. Aran met my eyes for a moment. Something in them made me shiver.

  “Hmm, yes, anyway,” Bohr said as the groaning and footsteps receded, “where were we?”

  “You were about to let me go,” I said.

  He grinned. “Nice try, yes, a good one. Not possible. Not yet. I would, but…” He shrugged and made a face as if to say: “I just work here.”

  “Well, could you at least explain why you went to so much effort to bring me here?” I said. “Was that your guy who tried to kidnap me from the funeral?”

  “Funeral? No, not us. You’re very popular. You’ve become a…how do you say? A commodity in this war. Both sides want you.”

  “Want me for what?” A commodity? What the hell was that supposed to mean? Did they want me because I could make a Tunnel to Tartarus?

  I didn’t like where this was going. I couldn’t find Claudia’s killer if I was the target in a city-wide game of Capture the Flag. Then another thought occurred to me. “If I’m just a commodity, why are you telling me this at all?”

  “Just to pass the time. Thought you might know more. Could be helpful. But not important. Ah. Here we go.” He looked over my shoulder at something I couldn’t see. I heard footsteps approaching. “Result?” he said in Vei.

  “Positive,” someone responded. A Vei came past me and handed a sheet of paper to Bohr without looking at me.

  Positive? Positive for what? I had a feeling another one of those miracles could come in handy right now. Maybe a better one this time.

  Daniel Bohr glanced through the sheet and nodded. “Fortunate, but unfortunate,” he said to me in English. My neck prickled.

  “Seriously,” I said, “you can let me go now. Don’t worry about me, I’ll get home fine. If you just wanna do something about these ropes…”

  “We took blood from you while you were unconscious,” Bohr said. “Tested it. Came back positive. You’ve come into contact with Tartaran toxin, yes?”

  “Yeah…”

  He nodded again. “We need it.”

  I tensed. “I’m not making you a Tunnel to bring any more of that shit back to Earth. It’s killed enough people already.”

  “No. Not what we want.” He turned to Stretch. “Is the grinder ready?”

  “Yes.”

  “Wait, wait, wait,” I said, struggling against my bonds. “What’s the grinder?”

  Bohr pointed at me with his cigarette. “The timing is not optimal, b
ut we cannot afford to wait. AISOR will make their play soon. Take him.”

  My vision narrowed. I could hear the blood pounding in my ears. Stretch strode toward me.

  “Bohr!” My scream could’ve shattered glass. Stretch grabbed me by the shoulders and started wheeling me away from the group. “What the fuck’s the grinder?”

  Stretch leaned down and whispered in my ear. “You don’t wanna know.”

  NINETEEN

  Stretch was right. I didn’t want to know.

  The grinder looked like it had started life as—of all things—a tanning bed. But now that it was standing upright and was filled with spikes, syringes, and saws, it looked more like an iron maiden. It even had its own generator. The machine stood in the center of what used to be a bathroom, but all the stalls and sinks had been removed. I knew why they’d put the grinder here. Blood wouldn’t stain the tiles. If I’d been standing up, I think I would’ve fainted.

  “It’ll process your entire body and extract the toxin from every cell,” Stretch explained helpfully. He pointed out a spike that looked like an ice pick. “Mr. Bohr says a lot accumulates in the brain and spine. Not the cerebrospinal fluid…” He pronounced “cerebrospinal” very carefully. “…but the blood vessels. The machine is very efficient. It even gets it out of the bones. Supposed to, anyway. You’ll be the first to try it.”

  I tugged at my ropes a few more times. My heart was going so fast I couldn’t tell when one beat stopped and the next started. Oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck.

  “Don’t worry,” he said. “You’ll be sedated. You won’t feel a thing.”

  A couple of the gangsters moved to start the generator and prepare the machine. Several hoses led out of it, leading to sealed containers on the floor. The short Vei woman who’d prepared me a drink was there as well. Like the others with their weapons slung across their shoulders, she left her gat in her belt. I guessed they figured I wasn’t much of a threat right now. I had to agree with them.

  “Hey,” I said, not even bothering to be embarrassed by the way my voice cracked, “don’t you think I’d be more valuable alive? I can get into AISOR for you. Feed you information. They like me there. Tell Bohr that.”

  “No,” Stretch said. “You should’ve listened when I gave you the message.”

  “Yeah, you’re right, my bad,” I said. My jaw was aching from when he dislocated it, but it probably wouldn’t be bothering me much longer. “Let’s start over.”

  “Shut up,” the Vei woman said. She checked my pulse. I had a flashback to Doc McCaffrey’s examination room. I guess all her hard work was going to end up in a bucket under the grinder. The thought made me crack a smile. A crazy smile. I started giggling.

  “What’s he doing?” Stretch said, frowning.

  The Vei woman shrugged. “Don’t know. Probably gone insane. Help me get him up.”

  Someone sliced the ropes around my wrists. I immediately started flailing, but Stretch grabbed me by the upper arms and lifted me off the chair. He didn’t even seem to be straining.

  Stretch pulled off my jacket and shoved me into the machine. I would’ve fallen down, but he held me up with one hand while he fixed leather straps into place at my wrists and around my neck. One of the other gangsters did my ankles. Then he moved back to the door with his friend and let his gun slip into his hands in case I got any ideas.

  “You guys are fucking insane, you know that?” I said.

  Stretch glared at me, but the woman spoke up before he could do anything. “Move. I need to get him ready.”

  The giant grudgingly moved aside and the woman took his place. I worried I was going to spew on her, but then I realized that wouldn’t be so bad. She ripped open my shirt and pushed the sleeves up. She pulled tubes and needles out of the machine and pressed them against my skin. I closed my eyes so I didn’t have to see. Something sharp pricked a vein in my forearm.

  A strange peace settled over me. Maybe it was time for me to die. I’d survived more than any human had a right to. I’d done things that no one should do to anyone. I’d done my best. That was all anyone could ask of me. At least now I could relax.

  I opened my eyes to find the Vei woman studying my face. Her eyes had an orange color to them that was rare among Vei. They glowed like the lava lakes of the Blackglass region of Heaven. She leaned in close and pressed something into my hand. Two somethings. One round and metallic, the other smooth as glass.

  “A gift from Desmond,” she whispered.

  I stared. A conversation came back to me, drifting across endless ages, or maybe just a couple of days. Desmond’s source inside the Collective.

  She turned away, and I gripped what she’d given me tight to conceal it from Stretch. The woman moved to the back of the room, glanced back at me once, and nodded almost imperceptibly. I didn’t respond.

  Stretch came back to inspect the machine. I think he was just pretending he knew what he was doing. He rubbed his chin and nodded. “Let’s get on with it.” He grabbed hold of a face mask with a thin hose attached and moved to place it over my mouth and nose.

  “Wait,” I said. “Before you do that, I just wanna know something.”

  He paused. “What?”

  “Who killed my friend? Who killed Claudia?”

  “Why?”

  “Because.” I strained against my neck brace, trying to lean forward. “I need to know. Was it AISOR? Was it Kowalski?”

  “Kowalski is a coward. He wouldn’t have the guts.”

  “Then who? Was it you? Was it Bohr?”

  He shrugged. “She’s dead. You’re about to be dead. It doesn’t matter.”

  “No,” I said. Cold liquid poured across the object in my hand. A nonsense tune sang in my head. It mixed with the pain, the rage, the frustration, the desperation.

  “No, what?”

  “It matters,” I said. “It matters to me!”

  Chaos flashed in my head, and the Pin Hole opened. In an instant, every strap binding me came loose.

  I was free.

  I braced myself against my wrist straps and kicked out with both feet. My shoes slammed into Stretch’s chest. He stumbled and fell, eyes bugging out. His coat flew open as he hit the ground, exposing the shotgun.

  I ripped the cannulas from my arms and dived forward. At the same time, one of the gangsters by the door let out a burst of gunfire. It would’ve got me clean in the torso if I wasn’t already on the ground. The Vei woman pulled her revolver from her belt and pointed it at the other Collectivists. But I had more immediate worries.

  I grabbed hold of Stretch’s shotgun. Unfortunately, he had the trigger end. With all my strength I forced it up. It went off, blowing a hole in the bathroom ceiling. The barrel grew hot against my palm. White dust rained on me.

  Two more shots went off, the muzzle lighting up the room. I was damn near deaf already. Still on his back, Stretch landed a boot in my stomach and I rolled away, gasping.

  I was still gripping the Pin Hole coin and vial of Kemia the woman had given me. The bottle was tiny, and I’d already used almost all of it just to free myself. Still, I might have enough for one more. I let the Pin Hole close and grabbed for my jacket where it lay discarded on the floor. I had to get my coins. But then I heard the click-clack of the shotgun pumping. I looked back at Stretch and found him sitting up, pointing the gun at me. My stomach went cold. Everything slowed.

  The butt of an assault rifle collided with the side of his head. His eyes went fuzzy and he dropped to the side. The shotgun boomed. I put my hands out like they could shield me from the buck shot. But the blow had thrown his aim off. He’d missed me. I was alive.

  Then I pulled on my jacket and hot pain ripped through my shoulder. I touched the skin, and it came away red. A couple of pellets must’ve clipped me.

  “Christ, that stings,” I said.

  “Shut up and move,” the Vei woman said. “They’re coming.”

  I looked up and froze. The two gangsters lay on the bathroom floor, an entry wound in
each of their heads. Blood leaked into the cracks between the tiles. The Vei woman picked up one of their assault rifles and slung it across her shoulder, then gripped the other in her hands.

  “You killed them,” I said.

  “What are you, the commentator?” She stuck her head out the door. Footsteps stomped from the factory floor. “Get a gun and let’s go. And take this.”

  She reached into her pocket and tossed me a full-sized bottle of Kemia. I caught it in mid-air. The silver liquid glinted.

  I looked at the gangsters’ bodies once more. I remembered another set of dead gangsters. Bloodied, burned, killed by my madness. I shook my head. Not now. Not here. I pulled on my jacket and fished out a couple of coins. As I got to my feet, keeping my weight off my injured arm, my shoe nudged Stretch’s short-barreled shotgun.

  I paused for a moment, then I picked it up. It was heavier than I expected. Could I really shoot someone with it?

  “Come on!” the Vei woman said.

  Screw it. I found the safety, held down the slide release, and pumped the shotgun. A shell sprang out of the chamber. I worked the pump action again and again until no more shells came out.

  “What the hell are you doing?” she asked as I trotted over to her.

  I shrugged. “You told me to get a gun.” I held it up by the barrel to show her how I could whack someone with the butt.

  She bared her teeth, but then she glanced down the hallway. “Here they come. Go!” She fired a burst back toward the factory floor. I ducked behind her, pulled the cork out of the Kemia bottle with my teeth, and spat it into my hand.

  “What’s your name?” I asked.

  “Lucetta.” Another burst of gunfire.

  “Miles,” I said, while I poured Kemia onto another coin. “Pleased to make your acquaintance.”