I duck between a row of crates, zag toward a door at the far side of the warehouse. I hear the chatter of automatic weapons fire behind me. Screaming. A monstrous roar like a bonfire made out of Molotovs.
I make a run for another set of crates. Bullets follow me, punching holes through wood, ricocheting off metal. I hazard a glance at the fight. It’s one hell of a fray. Two of Griffin’s men are charred husks on the floor. Everyone else has scattered in a loose circle around the elemental, unloading bullets into it that vaporize before they reach it.
The elemental’s tail arches and flows, leaving scorch marks on the cracking cement floor. It paws the ground like a bull, whips its head out at one of the gunmen who doesn’t get out of the way in time. It snatches him in flaming jaws. His screams turn into a hiss as he bursts into flame and his bones explode.
The elemental rears up to take a leap, letting loose a roar that shakes the walls, the cement beneath its feet cracked and bubbling. And then Griffin waves a hand and with a blast of magic throws a shipping container at it. The heavy metal box kicks up sparks as it grinds across the cement like a race car, slams into the elemental, keeps going until it crashes into the wall.
Stunned silence. No sound but the ringing in my ears and the heavy crackle of licking flames. That was easier than I expected. Which means I have a problem.
I duck behind another shipping container as Griffin and the last few of his cadre open up on me. Bullets ping against the metal. I hear the whooshing sound of fire extinguishers. I’ve made one hell of a tactical error. They’re going to flank me. I can’t cover both sides of the container.
The door on the far side cracks open, Vivian pops her head in, sees me. Waves at me to run. I take a deep breath, wish I did more cardio on a regular basis.
The warehouse fills with a wrenching, bubbling sound. Metal tearing, melting, turning into slag. The sound of more gunfire. I risk a quick look around the edge of the container. Expect bullets for my trouble. But the shooters are a little preoccupied.
The shipping container that just flattened the elemental is glowing white hot. The metal is bubbling and dripping into pools of molten steel. Flame claws spread around the edge. They don’t push it out of the way so much as melt it. What’s left of the container shreds, flinging superheated chunks of shrapnel that gouge pits in the cement floor. I duck back in time to avoid being sliced and cauterized.
When the rain of shrapnel subsides I pop out from behind my cover to get a look. Useless gunfire popping from cover, shelves of crates bursting into flame. The elemental rears on its hind legs, lets out a bellow like a volcano cracking open. And sees me.
I duck back but it’s too late. The elemental launches itself into the air. Leaps across stacked shelves and containers, leaving melting metal in its footsteps. It lands in the wide aisle spanning the warehouse. Spins its body to face me, tail snapping like a whip through a stack of crates that light up like kerosene-soaked flares. Flames crack off the end of the tail, showering more shelves, more crates. The building’s going to be a raging inferno in minutes. If this thing doesn’t kill me the smoke and heat probably will.
I consider popping over to the other side. Might work, but I’ll have a hell of a time getting through the doors. And if I understand them correctly elementals can go anywhere. If it figures out what I’ve done I won’t be in any better shape. But it might give me a couple minutes I won’t have here.
Thirty feet away and I can feel my skin blistering from the heat. The flames behind me are cooler than the elemental’s inferno. I shield my face with my arm, squint through tearing eyes. I’m constructing the spell as fast as I can, but I don’t think I’ll be in time. It rolls back on its haunches, ready to spring.
I hear squealing tires and a sound of shredding metal, bursting glass. A heavy shelf of burning crates and stacked pipes creaks and shudders as the Eldorado, crazed Vivian at the wheel, fishtails into it. The elemental sees it in enough time to jump out of the way, but seems taking it down wasn’t the point.
Ellis pops open the passenger side door, screams for me to get in. I don’t have to be told twice. Vivian floors it before I’m all the way in and Ellis has to pull me the rest of the way inside. Behind us I can see the elemental clambering over toppled shelves, its feet melting through the steel beams, igniting the crates. It lets loose another bellow that shakes the building’s frame.
Vivian drives the Caddy to the hole she made in the sliding door of the loading ramp. Bullets punch into the car, ping off the wall as we pass through.
“The fuck is that thing?” Vivian says.
“Fire elemental,” Ellis says. “It after you?”
“Yeah. Boudreau was there. I got away from him but he summoned that thing at the last minute.”
“And the guys with guns?” Vivian says.
“Griffin showed, too. Guess it’s his warehouse.”
Ellis pinches his eyes together. “Shit. Shit shit shit. A goddamn fire elemental?”
“It’s not a party without one,” I say.
Vivian gives a giggle bordering on hysteria. “Yeah, a real barn burner.” Behind us the warehouse has turned into a five-alarm inferno. The building burns faster than it has any right to. Support beams start to come down, bringing chunks of the ceiling down with them.
“I don’t suppose it’ll die from a building falling on it?”
“Not hardly,” I say.
As if to make that point I can see the flames leaping from the building coalesce into the elemental behind us. Vivian plows back the way we came, passing rows of shipping containers. A thought occurs to me.
“We can’t leave,” I say.
“What?” Vivian says. “Why the hell not?”
“Because if that thing gets onto the open road, or god forbid the freeway it’s not just us in danger. Imagine how many other people are going to die. Imagine what the news’ll do with shots of that thing.”
“Fuck.” She knows I’m right. “What about the dockworkers?”
“They’ll probably see it, but we might be able to run it ragged through these rows of containers.”
“And then what?” she says. “It’s not gonna just run out of gas.”
“I’m still working on that one. Just keep the car moving.”
She spins the car around a corner, takes another path. We lose the elemental for a moment, but it reappears behind us. It runs and flows something like a snake and something like a cougar.
“The pocket watch,” Vivian says. “Do you still have it?” I pull it out and show it to her. “How close do you have to be to use it?”
“Closer than this,” I say.
“Get ready then.” She taps the brakes.
The distance closes more than I’m comfortable with. I focus on the elemental’s reflection in the rearview, spin the watch’s dial. Nothing happens.
“Any time now.”
“Fuck you, it’s not working.”
“Yeah, I got that,” she says.
“That’s because you used too much, already,” Ellis says from the backseat.
“The fuck are you talking about?”
“You have any idea how much magic was being tossed around in there?”
“Shit. Of course.”
“Okay, I’m still lost,” Vivian says.
“Used up all the juice,” Ellis says.
“Between me, Boudreau, Griffin and that monster on our ass, we’ve drained the local pool,” I say. I hang on as Vivian yanks the steering wheel hard to the right, peels around a tight corner. Fucking fire’s keeping up.
“Then what the hell do we do?” Vivian says.
“Try harder,” Ellis says.
“Real useful. Thanks.” I fix the elemental’s reflection in the mirror again. Force-feed my own reserves into the watch, spin the dial again. I can feel the power trickle up through me and drain into the watch.
The fires dim, flicker. I keep ratcheting the dial and the elemental stumbles, trips, scatters gouts of flame. Hits the gro
und and skids into a roll, the fires draining away to a flicker. The elemental goes out.
Vivian hits the brakes. The Caddy fishtails to a stop.
“I think I just peed myself,” Ellis says.
What’s left of the elemental is a burnt out husk, blackened and smoking like charred wood. Without the fires it looks like a bald dog.
I slump in my seat, spent. I could pass out right here. Vivian doesn’t give me the chance. She stomps on the gas again.
“Whoa, what’s going on?”
The look of dread on her face is enough to tell me before she says it. “It’s not dead.”
The husk breaks, flickers of fire sputtering through the cracks. The flames flow out, start to reform. Vivian puts as much distance between it and us as she can.
Why didn’t that work? Think, goddammit.
It hits me in a flash. “We need to cut off its source,” I say.
“What do you mean?”
“The pool isn’t used up, that thing’s sucking it all up. That’s what was causing the, shit, brownout, I guess. It’s not running on its own fuel supply. The pool’s just fine.”
“Can’t we just get it wet, or something?” she says.
“I know you’re not stupid.”
“No, but I am hopeful. If that won’t work, what do we do?”
My stomach sinks as the answer comes to me. “As long as it can feed off the magic in the area it won’t stop. We either block its access by doing something bigger or we take it someplace it can’t get to the source.”
“You can’t be serious,” Ellis says, catching on. “Boudreau’s over there.”
“That thing’s going to follow us anywhere we go,” I say. “Anywhere.”
“What are you two talking about?” Vivian asks.
I pop open my junk drawer of a glove compartment. Receipts, pens, a rat’s skeleton in a Ziploc bag, a talisman of Chinese coins and crow feathers, packets of powders I can’t even identify.
Where the hell is it?
“I can jump us over to the dead side,” I say. “It’s using so much juice it’ll drain itself dry in a minute.”
“Aren’t we kind of out of juice ourselves?”
“I think I got that covered,” I say. “Give me a second.”
“Have you moved a whole car before?” Ellis asks. “You can’t just move us. We’ll still have momentum.”
“First time for everything,” I say.
“It’s a moot point,” Ellis says. “There isn’t enough power to light a fart around here.”
I find the glowing vial Alex gave me back at the club. “There is now.” I take a deep breath, pop the cork and upend the contents down my throat.
“Wait,” Vivian screams. “That’s not how you use it.”
Wish I’d known that sooner.
Chapter 18
My brain is melting.
The rows of shipping containers shoot out in front of me into a multicolored blur. The chugging of the Caddy’s engine stretches into a solid, heavy buzz. The power pours into me like molten metal. My mind feels like a balloon animal. Expanding, twisting, threatening to pop. I wonder distantly if this is what Ellis felt when he burned himself out. I wonder if I’m about to do the same. I focus on the Dead, the cold darkness of the other side, the emptiness and dread. I grab reality by the balls and give ’em a yank.
The car shudders, snapping me back to reality. The sky flickers. Bright blue sky to dank, empty gray and back again. The steering wheel bucks in Vivian’s hands. The world tears. And we’re over.
“Fuck me,” Vivian says, staring at the shadowy forms of shipping containers speeding by. The air feels empty and oppressively heavy at the same time. Sound barely carries. Ellis throws up in the back seat.
Vivian’ puts her hand on my shoulder. “Are you okay?”
“I don’t know,” I say. “Dizzy. You?”
“Yeah. I think. I’ve never been here. Why didn’t you ever bring me here?”
“Not exactly the kind of place you bring a date.”
“It’s incredible.”
“Not the word I’d use,” I say. Faces appear out of the gloom ahead of us, fade in alongside.
“They’re all dead?”
“And hungry,” Ellis says.
“You doing all right back there?” I ask.
“The fuck do you think?”
“Can they get inside the car?” Vivian says.
“No. I’ve got it warded.”
There’s a flash behind us and a dull thud. Flames burst in behind us like a rip in a blast furnace.
Vivian hits the gas, increasing the distance. He’s on my turf now, the cocksucker. Let’s see how long he lasts over here.
It’s hard enough to see where I’m going when I’m walking over here. Driving is a whole other experience. Vivian narrowly misses a wall of spectral shipping containers. The last thing we need is to crash the car.
Is the elemental dimmer? The flames lower? It’s hard to tell at first, but the farther we go the more obvious it becomes. It’s fading fast.
So am I. I can feel my energy being sucked out of me. And Vivian’s breath is coming in more strained. We don’t have much time left. The Dead are coming in faster. Drawn in by our scent, or whatever it is they use to find us.
“Let it get closer,” I say.
Vivian eases up on the gas. The elemental gains ground fast. She lets it get close, let the ghosts gather thick in front of us.
“Punch it,” I say as it’s almost on top of us. Vivian slams her foot hard on the pedal, plowing the car through the Dead. They bounce off the wards like bowling pins. I’ve only known the Dead to go after the living, but would the elemental attract them the same way?
Turns out that’s a big yes. They latch onto it like lions taking down a gazelle. It falters, shakes to throw them off, falls to the ground. And with a sudden, loud whump collapses into nothing.
“Can we please get out of here, now?” Ellis says. “I’m not doing too well over here.”
I’m about to say yes, but now I’m not so sure.
“I’m not hearing anything positive,” Vivian says.
“Took a lot to haul the car over. I think I can get all of us, but I don’t know if I have enough to take the car back.”
“The car’s kind of secondary, don’t you think?”
“It’s my car.”
“It’s our lives.”
Dammit. “Fine, stop the car. Everybody out.”
“I’m not going out there,” Ellis says.
“Then I guess you’re not going back.” That shuts him up and he pushes the door open. That simple action takes it out of him and I have to help haul him out. I throw Ellis over my shoulder in a fireman’s carry. He’s really going fast. Vivian’s not far behind him. Me, I’ve got a while left, but I wouldn’t last much longer than they will.
Vivian wraps herself around us. The Dead have finished with the elemental and they’ve turned their attention to us. I focus on sunlight, warm air, blue skies. Tap my heels together three times because, you know, every little bit helps.
There’s a wrenching feeling that thins out to the sounds of sirens, the smell of smoke and diesel, the light of the mid-day sun. I collapse and darkness falls around me.
—
I hate hospital waiting rooms. Stink of antiseptic and disease, buzzing fluorescent lights that leech all the vitamin D out of your body. I’m reading a five-year-old copy of Highlights, wondering who writes this crap. No wonder kids are screwed up today.
I’ve been here for four hours. Back at the docks, with the adrenaline pumping through me, I didn’t notice the bruises and scrapes, the second degree burns. But now I feel like a grilled steak. My left hand is wrapped in a bandage and antiseptic gel, the cuts on my face are big enough to need butterfly bandages. My left eye is swollen. No broken bones, thank god. Well, no new ones.
“Hey,” Vivian says, appearing at the doorway. She’s wearing scrubs, looks a mess.
She threw tog
ether some bullshit story about us being at the docks to check on hospital equipment coming in on a boat when the warehouse went up. Told the cops she found Ellis passed out behind a truck. They bought it with a little help. The force has power over weak minds and all that.
I lost track of her once we got to Harbor-UCLA. She was holding an IV bag over Ellis, barking orders at interns. She disappeared down the hall while a nurse ushered me behind a curtain.
“How you doin’?”
“Okay. Been better.” She yawns.
“Ellis?”
She shakes her head, falls heavily into the seat opposite me. “Where do I start? Malnourished, dehydrated. Had a heart attack.”
“The fuck? When did that happen?”
“After we got him here. He’s old. And a train wreck. Diabetic. Kidney problems. A staph infection. Other things.”
“Is he going to be all right?”
“I don’t know. He’s still unconscious. I pulled some strings. Got him a room. How are you doing?”
I show her my hand, point at my swollen eye, my bandaged face. “Pretty much what you see,” I say. “Hurts, but I’ve had worse.”
“You have, haven’t you?”
“Kind of comes with the territory.”
She frowns. Like she’s not sure exactly what sort of territory that is. Whether she wants to be a part of it. I don’t blame her. I’m wondering the same thing myself.
“What happened back there?” she says.
Excellent question. Boudreau showing up is one thing. I always knew there was a possibility. But Griffin? Beverly Hills to San Pedro? On the 405? He showed up awful fast.
If we’d tripped an alarm he shouldn’t have been able to respond that fast unless he was close by. And what are the odds that he would just happen to be down near the docks with a cadre of thugs?
“Did you tell Alex where we were going?”
“Yeah, I—” She cocks her head, narrows her eyes. “I don’t think I like what you’re thinking.”
“How would Griffin know we were down there if someone hadn’t told him?”
Dead Things Page 15
