Curse of Souls (Warrior of Souls Book 1)

by S Mays

  “Both, if you have them,” Sverre answered.

  “A fan of the daishō arrangement. Not very common today.”

  “I’m a pretty uncommon type of fellow.”

  “That concludes our business for now. Your body armor is being forged in the press. Return in seventy minutes. Sign here, Miss Ford. As usual, any gear lost in the field will be deducted from your payout. You don’t want to know what Heart-Piercer will cost you, so please return it safe and sound. Yourself as well.”

  “Thanks, Tailor. You’re sweet,” she said, giving him a peck on the cheek.

  They walked out and back through Fur and Feathers until they were in the bustling Park Place main street.

  “Let’s take a stroll, Sverre. We need to go over the game plan, maybe get a bite to eat. It’s going to be a long night.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  “You know, I agreed to do this bodyguard thing, but what is this ‘mission’ nonsense you signed us up for? Maybe you should have asked my permission? What if I decide not to go?” he asked.

  “Honestly, lookin’ at these schematics and the dossier Drake gave me, I could probably do it myself, although it would be great to have some backup,” she replied, flipping through page after page on the tablet. “Especially since you know the place intimately.”

  “What is it you actually do for him? I know a lot of people at that facility. I’m going to need to be comfortable with your plan.”

  “We typically sneak in, disable any remaining security, take out any guards, then take any information and equipment we can find. Usually, there’s at least a few scraps left. The Order would have you believe it’s infallible, and they are very, very good, but no one is perfect.”

  “What do you mean by ‘take out’ people? You kill them?”

  “Personally, that’s not my usual plan, but I’ve been in crews that did that. I mean, on any given day, they wouldn’t spare us. Killing people is messy, makes a lot of noise. When I lead on a perfect run, they might not even know we were there. Of course, those cake places ain’t alpha level like this one. If you’ve got a problem with killing someone who is trying to kill you, you are going to be a liability on this trip and in my organization.”

  “No, I think I’ll be okay. I’d prefer not to kill anyone, though. If we run into Jessica or Bilford, I want to take them down without hurting them. Sam and Hilda, too,” he stated with finality.

  “Okay, that’s quite a list. And I assume they’re goin’ to take it easy on us, too?”

  “I’m-I’m not sure anymore,” he said without confidence.

  “Well, you’d better be damn sure of what you’re going to do if you run into them, because you ain’t going to have much time to think it over,” she said, finally looking up from the screen.

  “Don’t worry about me. I’ll handle it.”

  “Don’t make me regret this,” she warned.

  She stopped in front of a street vendor. She handed him the gold coin from Drake. He looked at it and returned it to her with a knowing look. She held up two fingers and made a motion of eating and one for drinking. The vendor handed her two packages wrapped in foil and two sodas.

  “Now, eat this, shut up, and follow me.” They walked down the main passage, back the way they had initially come. Passing through the security gate again, they reentered the slums.

  “What’s in this? It’s delicious!” Sverre exclaimed. The food in the foil wrapping turned out to be a gyro of some kind.

  “If you have to ask what it is, you probably don’t want to know,” she replied.

  Sverre’s smile faded.

  After walking a few minutes, they turned a corner into a narrow tunnel. Two guards stood in front of a chain-link fence. They let the pair pass through without asking any questions. The next chamber was the size of a football stadium. It looked like an indoor crop field of some kind. Along the wall were rows of houses that looked straight out of a suburban neighborhood, except decrepit.

  “This is a fungi field. Those people down there tending the crops are what most call zombies or the undead,” Izzy said.

  “I thought zombies wandered around moaning about brains.”

  “Sure, they do that on their own, when they’re starved. Give them purpose, some semblance of a normal life, and they tend to fall into their old patterns of when they were alive. Work, sleep, eat. The same as the rest of us. Ya know, we’ve done studies that show that with proper diet and socializin’, they function at about sixty percent mental capacity of a regular human. Some of them would qualify as a human with a mental impairment. Except for, you know, not being fully alive. We moved them down here, and they love tending the crops. Over time, many of them even improve with proper guidance. Who knows what medical science could do for them. I don’t think they’ll ever be fully alive again, but who knows?”

  “What do they eat?” Sverre asked, suspicion in his voice.

  “Brains. But they don’t require a lot. We secure cattle brains for almost nothing and ship them in dehydrated. Add a little water, and they love them. The only reason they chase after humans when they first return from the grave is that’s the first thing with a brain they see. Humans have wiped out virtually all other animals in habitable areas, so they have to go after the only food they can find.”

  “Alright, so zombies aren’t mindless killers. I’ve dealt with werewolves, though, so I know what I’m talking about. Something like that can’t live beside humans. They’re beasts,” Sverre said.

  “You met Rilus, one of the oldest, most notorious murderers of all time. He’s worked for every scumbag under the sun and moon for the past hundred and fifty years. It’s like sayin’ you ran into Jack the Ripper, so you know humans suck.”

  They exited the mammoth cave back onto the main street and continued. Sverre carefully observed every person who walked by, attempting to find a flaw in Izzy’s assertion that they were all misunderstood innocents. Aside from their unusual appearance, most seemed friendly enough. If not for the horns, fangs, extra eyes, and fur, the community felt more like what he imagined it would be like to visit a foreign country that was extremely poor.

  They turned down another twisting tunnel which exited into another large area. Mobile homes, trailers, and small dwellings were crammed into the space. It looked like a campground combined with a trailer park. They walked among the inhabitants, who cast them cautious looks as they passed. People cooked on grills; children screamed and chased each other. Dogs ran around barking and yipping playfully. It took Sverre a minute to notice some of the dogs weren’t dogs.

  “Werewolves?” he asked, surprised.

  “Why so shocked? This is how most of them spend their lives. Down here and on the surface. Sure, they like to get naked, prowl under the moon and chase down a stag to feast on its warm flesh from time to time, but it’s not like humans don’t do the same. Humans just cook the deer first. Usually.”

  “This isn’t what I expected,” he admitted, kicking a plastic ball that stopped at his feet back to two children.

  “I’m not sayin’ everyone down here is perfect. Sometimes there are fights. Sometimes one goes off the deep end and kills someone, or even a group of people. Sometimes they kill other supernaturals. Sometimes they kill humans. Humans do the same thing. Sometimes they shoot up a mall or kidnap children. The acts we are accused of are the acts humans do to each other on a daily basis. We ain’t no more monsters than they are. But we’re not at war with them. They’re at war with us. We didn’t choose to be this way — well, most of us didn’t, but we can’t help what we are. But we ain’t going to lie down and die, either.”

  “What about this army Drake has? If you aren’t going to war, it seems awfully strange to create an army,” Sverre asked.

  “Think of it as a defense force instead of an army. Look, last year Osaka’s Warlord got hit by the Order. They were virtually wiped out, down to the last man, woman, and child. Their Warlord believed in peace. He said it would hurt the cause i
f they created soldiers and weapons to defend themselves. That philosophy got them slaughtered. These hits we do on laboratories, research facilities, and weapons depots are the only thing keeping us alive. The Order and their allies have the resources of the entire planet at their disposal. Fortunately, between some of our own scientists and the natural abilities of our people, we keep up — if barely. Our weakness is that we have to police our own citizens, keep hidden, and prepare our defenses for anything. It splits us in too many directions.”

  “I... see. I don’t know what to think. My parents were attacked by werewolves. They invaded my home and slaughtered my adoptive father before I could get there. They dragged off my mom, probably left her in some woods somewhere. Her body was never found. I feel so much rage, even now, but I can’t take it out on these people.”

  “I’ve been meanin’ to talk to you about that. You know, I read your file extensively while we were in that lovely facility. I studied you for a long time. I think there’s something jacked up with that whole situation,” she said.

  “What do you mean?”

  “I’ve been trying to think of a way to break this to you. Forensics showed that the two werewolves you ran into at your parents’ house were most likely part of Varulf’s pack, clan Cen’Ful. I know them, or at least I know quite a bit about them. None of them would do anything like that to two innocent people. They used to be slaves to an elder vampire lord years ago, but they somehow arranged a deal with him so that they earned their freedom. After that, Varulf swore off killin’, and he upholds that oath with an iron fist. A few members of the pack refused to become complacent, and he had to put them down. Rilus was one of them, but he escaped and no one could find the fleabag.

  “We initially offered them sanctuary here, but Varulf’s honor and stubbornness prevented that. He said his people were too dangerous and needed to be separated from society. They moved into some remote foothills to try to make a go of it. I was sure they’d be found out and taken out in a few weeks after leaving the protection of their master, but for some reason, the Order never knew they were there,” she explained. “At least I never knew why they weren’t discovered until you came along. Due to my prodigious talents, I found a lot of red flags in the data while researching you. It was mighty strange how you came across coordinates for that village, because when I looked, they weren’t there. Looked like some kind of computer virus was at work. Someone on the inside kept those werewolves hidden from the Order. Any time they want, this person can turn it off, and the village would be located pretty quick.”

  “Why would anyone protect a pack of werewolves, then stop protecting them?” Sverre asked.

  “My guess is for leverage. Either way, it’s bad news, because that means the Order has some really high-level moles in it, playing games with the lives of supernaturals. And I don’t like that very much.”

  “And who would that be?”

  “Let’s just say I’m still piecing all of this together. I don’t want to say too much until I figure it out. Knowledge is power, and for all I know, you might squeal like a pig the first time they threaten to give you a hangnail,” she said.

  “I would never —” he protested.

  “Let’s start heading back. I need to explain the plan,” Izzy said. “We can figure out this other nonsense after tonight. We need to focus.”

  On the way back up the main tunnel, a small girl skipped up to them. Izzy seemed very happy to see her.

  “This is Milly. She’s probably the cutest little girl in the world,” Izzy said loudly, so the girl would hear. She appeared to be completely normal, perhaps five years old. She had blonde hair in pigtails and wore a bright blue dress.

  “Hi, Izzy!” she shouted, smiling so that her dimples flashed. She apparently knew how to work a crowd.

  “Well, hey there, Miss Milly Vanilly,” Izzy said, bending over to tickle the girl. Milly turned away, laughing. She ran, trying to get Izzy to give chase.

  “She’s a really strong clairvoyant, from what I understand. One reason we’ve been able to avoid the Order is through the talents of people like her,” Izzy explained.

  “Why don’t they work for the Order, where they’d be safe? Why’d her mom bring her here?”

  “Some people have a hard time slaughtering other sentient beings. These Seers view the carnage firsthand, through their dreams. It wears on a person. Milly’s mom decided she didn’t want that life for her kid.”

  The girl ran back up to Izzy, who picked her up. The girl turned to face Sverre, her smile disappearing.

  “You...you’re the man,” she said, pointing.

  “That’s me. The Man. Don’t let word get out, though,” he joked.

  “You’re the man from my bad dream. Don’t go to the castle. The monster man kills you in the castle,” she said, clearly afraid. She wiggled to be let down. Once Izzy let go of her, she ran from them.

  “Okay, what the hell was that about?” he asked.

  “I don’t know. Not everything they say comes true. Sometimes they get their visions mixed up with their normal dreams, especially the children. Maybe she dreamed about meeting you while having a dream about some unicorns and castles or something.”

  “Yeah, well, I don’t like the sound of ‘monster men’ killing me. Especially right before we go on some suicide mission.”

  “Relax. I’ve been on dozens of these. Hardly anyone gets killed,” Izzy assured him.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  “It’s a little snug in certain areas,” Sverre said, twisting around to get a better look at himself. The suit of body armor was lightweight and skintight. It was black, made up of a very fine mesh that didn’t restrict movement at all. Vital areas like the chest, neck, and joints were also protected by some kind of overlapping thin ceramic plates. He had to admit, they looked really cool.

  “It’s snug in all areas, doofus,” Izzy said. “That’s the point.” Her attention was on analyzing the gargantuan rifle she held that was taller than she was. Sverre had never seen anything like it.

  “We communicate with this wrist computer?” he asked, fiddling with a wrist-mounted bracer he’d attached to his right wrist. The top of it was a curved LED screen. A menu screen activated when he touched it. A few seconds later, the screen shut off again.

  “Yeah, just a wee bit easier to manage than carting around a tablet or handheld. There are some goggles that will sync with it and provide a HUD interface if you want. We’ll talk directly through our wireless earpieces, which are also synced with the computer.”

  “Nah, I’m good. Goggles mess up my rugged sex appeal.”

  “Suit yourself.”

  “So that’s Heart-Piercer? Looks pretty high-tech.”

  “You could say that. It’s probably only the second or third most advanced sniper rifle on the planet. I would have rather had Doom-Bringer, but that’s on the ‘Izzy can’t have’ list.”

  “I think it’s really weird that you guys name these weapons,” Sverre admitted.

  “They aren’t all named. Just the really mind-blowingly awesome ones,” she said while polishing the barrel.

  “Yeah, well, I christen these guns Armageddon and Devastation,” he bragged, flexing and kissing each bicep. “They never run out of ammo, and they always hit their target.”

  “I’ve seen ’em, and they are pretty impressive. Unfortunately, we live in a world of anti-personnel mines, drones that can eliminate a target from five miles away, engineered viruses, specters that can freeze your blood with a touch, killer satellites, and human-animal hybrids that don’t respond well to fists. If this were a kung fu movie, you’d be all set.”

  Sverre drew the automatic handguns from his holsters, spinning them around his fingers like a trick shooter. He threw each one up in the air, catching them both easily while simultaneously ejecting the magazines. He continued his motion, kicking the magazines in quick succession, sending each one whizzing through the air. They lodged into the metal door of a locker across
the room with a loud clang.

  “In my hands, everything is a deadly weapon,” he said.

  Izzy was speechless for a moment before replying, “That locker door is coming out of your cut.”

  The transport craft was similar to the one they had “liberated” from Inquest One. It appeared to be an older model, but modified. It had a wide body, large sliding side doors, and a rear ramp that allowed something as big as a Hummer to be loaded. Aside from one minigun hanging under the front nose, it had no other visible armament. Someone had painted a giant nude succubus on the side.

  “This thing blows,” Sverre decided aloud.

  “It’s meant to carry back the loot, not engage in a dogfight,” Izzy said, loading their gear.

  “How are you and me going to carry back more than one or two items, especially with our gear?”

  “Drake’ll send a few movers and a transport with us. We break in, disable the security system, leave the front door open, and these guys will load about a ton of gear every minute. We’ve got to keep it all low-key, or they’ll send an intercept squad, which usually arrives in about fifteen to thirty minutes, regardless of how remote the location is. That’s when the killing starts, so we want to avoid that,” Izzy said.

  As she spoke, a large vehicle backed into the rear of the ship. It looked like a covered troop transport, but the cab was removed. In its place was a robot attached to the vehicle from the waist down. It was painted a dull matte black and had elongated arms that ended in large pincers. Under those arms was a set of regular-sized arms that resembled a human’s. Its head was a simple sphere composed of various cameras and sensors similar to the ones found atop self-driving cars. On its back were two assault rifles holstered in an X shape.

  “Dang, that thing is pretty awesome,” Sverre muttered.

  Looking up to see what he was referring to, Izzy responded, “Oh, yeah, that’s MARV. Short for Mobile Autonomous Retrieval Vehicle. It’s got a pretty damn good AI. It’s saved our bacon more than once. Drake’s pulling out all the stops on this one if he’s sending MARV. He’ll follow us in silently, hang back in low-power mode, then rush in to grab up the goodies or provide fire support if needed. He’s even scooped up the wounded and carried them back out of the action on a few occasions. Has a few first-aid gadgets in those arms of his, too.”