Nightwalk 2 Page 27

  “Oh, you might say I’ve become intimately acquainted with his work,” I gestured at the darkness around us, “so whatcha got there?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “In the briefcase. Whatcha got there?”

  “It’s classified, and I asked you for your name!”

  I barely heard him as I now stared at the briefcase while more pieces fell into place.

  “You’ve got his notes, don’t you,” I realized aloud. “You were there. Hell, you’re a Special Agent so you might have even been in charge. He must have set the machine off when the police busted into his house, and somehow you managed to get ahold of his notes before the shit hit the fan. Or maybe even the blueprints to the goddamn machine! Now you’re trying to get them back out in the world!”

  “How do you know this?! Who are you?”

  “Are you insane?!?!”

  “This is vital techno…”

  “Look around you!” I shouted. “We’re not ready for this! We’re not even close to ready for this! And we damn sure ain’t ready for the attention it attracts!”

  “That’s not your decision to make!”

  “Oh yeah?” I shot back. “Whose is it? Yours? Your bosses’? Oh wait, I forgot… you’ve got a new boss now, don’t you. The type who’s really good at bringing back the dead and healing gunshot wounds.”

  He now gaped at me in open astonishment.

  “I wonder how you’re going to put that in your next report?” I mused, “‘Mission Accomplished…by the way, I made a new friend’? Nah, I can’t see them liking that. Or are you even intending to go back to them? Maybe you’re…”

  “THAT’S ENOUGH!” Hallett roared.

  We stood in the open night, yet I swear it sounded like he shouted in a room with top notch acoustics. Booming, echoing, Wizard of Oz type acoustics. The power of it shocked me into silence. The floor was now his.

  “You are neither god-ridden nor under geas,” he thundered in the same amazing voice, “so I demand you tell me how you came by this knowledge!”

  Huh?

  Neither the volume of his statement nor its content made any sense.

  Right about then I got the sinking suspicion I should have just shot the guy… like I had been told to do in the first place. Maybe I hadn’t figured this situation exactly right after all.

  Fortunately, I already had my gun aimed at him. Unfortunately, he must have seen what I was thinking and acted first.

  That’s when he hit me with the lightning bolt.

  ###

  Yes, a lightning bolt.

  And I don’t mean a bunch of pale blue forks of special effects like one sees on a certain very popular space opera. I mean a sudden, brilliant bolt of eye-scorching power that goes off with a thunderclap. It felt like being electrocuted and having a truck hit me all at the same time.

  It should have been over right there.

  Yet apparently, Mr. Hallett was new to his secret profession of wizardry. Otherwise some helpful Gandalf-type might have explained to him how lightning probably wasn’t the best attack to employ against a foe who has a .357 Magnum pointed straight at you. It tends to make people clench up and pull things… like triggers.

  Thus a mighty double-boom rocked the night, and we both hit the ground like bags of wet cement.

  The sole reason I didn’t die right there was due to my bullet cutting his bolt short.

  Yet I only knew I still lived because I now hurt worse than I had at any point during the night. I couldn’t see. I couldn’t control my muscles. I couldn’t even add a purposeful whimper of my own to the thin mewling sound issuing from my mouth. I was a helpless passenger in an agonized body that squirmed of its own volition on the concrete. By then, I just wanted to get out of the vehicle and let it crash and explode.

  But that option didn’t exist. There would be no stopping this ride until either Hallett or I died.

  The fact I lay there on the sidewalk instead of my back porch meant Jason Hallett still lived.

  Even worse, I lay on that sidewalk because I had to see how smart I was instead of pulling the trigger in the first place. I had nobody to blame but myself. If I had simply shot him from the dark when he stepped out the door, I would already be safely back home with the luxury of a lifetime to decide if that made me an awful person or not.

  But no, I had to test a theory instead. I needed to confront him and confirm his status as a fellow pawn. Thus I turned what should have been a straightforward hit-job into a life or death fight against the thunder-wielding agent of another godlike being, with the fate of the world on the line.

  So far I wasn’t doing so well.

  At best, round one had ended in a tie. If I didn’t get off my ass fast, round two might end with Hallett standing over me and finishing the job with another blast… or making for the drainage pipe.

  That realization spurred me to make a herculean effort, and I managed to regain enough control to discover I could see by opening my eyes. Of course, I didn’t see much since I lay below the fog level. Yet my small success at recovery led to the rest of my tortured body starting to report for duty. Most of those reports included crippling pain, but I had become depressingly used to that.

  I flexed one hand, and then the other, then both. That’s when I realized I had dropped the gun. I spent a heart-stopping moment feeling around for it, then suppressed a relieved sigh when my fingers closed around the pistol’s grip. I was still in the fight.

  But the same moment of panic had also made me think tactically. I decided not to go with Plan A, which had been to simply sit up and start blasting away. Hallett probably wore a Kevlar vest, and that bullet wound of his had likely been the result of a high-powered rifle. Instead, I rallied my hurting carcass and rolled off the sidewalk to my right where I remembered a tree stood nearby.

  I still must have made myself visible for another thunderbolt shattered the night.

  The bolt lit up the ground fog around me to a dazzling white. At the same instant it hit the duffel bag containing the torches and Molotov cocktail I had dropped beside me right before Hallett stepped out of the door. The duffel bag exploded in a column of fire. Had I not moved I would have been drenched in burning gasoline.

  I scrambled to my feet and fired a hasty shot in return as I dove behind the tree. The un-aimed shot went wild. But it bought me time to reach cover while getting a glimpse of my target.

  Hallett remained on the steps and had been pulling himself to his feet when my move had caught his attention. He was definitely hurting. Unfortunately, I only caught a glimpse of him and hadn’t been able to size up the damage.

  Another thunderclap sounded as I reached cover and I could actually hear the bark on the tree sizzle under the assault.

  “Is that what you sold the human race out for?” I yelled, my back against the trunk. “Just to be able to chuck lightning out of your hands? You must be carrying grudges against a lot of people.”

  “You know nothing,” I heard him growl, “yet somehow far too much at the same time.”

  Good. He sounded like he had stayed near the stairs.

  I took the hat off my head and stuck it out from the tree for less than a second before jerking it back. Another white hot bolt blasted past. As it did, I stepped out and returned fired from the other side of the tree.

  He still stood on the stairs, and I hit him dead center. His breath exploded out of him and he doubled as he fell back on his butt. Yet lighting fanned wildly from his outstretched hand, forcing me to take shelter behind the tree again.

  That was two hits from a .357 Magnum, and still no blood on him that he hadn’t stepped out the door with. I also hadn’t seen any hint of blood-spray on the white wall behind him. So, he was wearing body armor. Yet…

  “That’s a very discreet vest your wearing,” I said conversationally, “I couldn’t make it out under your shirt. Must be one of those light and flexible types. I hear they’re really comfortable.”

  He didn’t reply, b
ut I could hear him panting. I swapped out magazines in the Coonan as I talked. I still had a couple of shells left in the old one, but this would give me six plus the one in the chamber. I planned on unloading a flurry of bullets in our next exchange.

  “Those types will stop a bullet, “I continued, “but I hear they’re absolute crap when it comes to absorbing impact energy. That matters, too. I’ll admit a .357 isn’t as cool as lightning bolts… but it does hit hard, doesn’t it? How are the ribs?”

  “K’tur estarka ur mnenthe l’kevre maz te…”

  Huh?

  Now what was he doing? It sounded like he was reciting something.

  He wasn’t speaking English, and it didn’t sound Spanish or Latin or like any other language I had heard either. Besides, it sounded more like chanting than speaking. And considering the fact I now dealt with a man who could chuck lightning like Merlin the Magnificent, this might be a bad thing.

  “Hey now, don’t be talking like that. I’ve just been shooting at you, not calling you names.”

  “…ik’kri t’chur llemneansu aztra vel adoriuksu!”

  “Fine then! I’ll… HOLY SHIT!”

  Only the fact I had my back against the tree and felt it move saved my life.

  The bark twisted against my back and I instinctively leapt forward. I whirled and brought my gun up just in time to see the tree try to take a bite out of me. A vertical crack had appeared in the trunk and it had split open into a ghastly, bark-toothed maw that slammed back shut with the sound of a dropped coffin lid.

  At the same time I realized I now stood exposed, so I immediately shifted aim toward the front of the church and my original target.

  But this time he caught me first.

  Hallett clenched his fist on the arm he had raised before him and it felt like an iron glove encased my gun hand from the elbow down. I could neither bend my wrist, nor move my fingers in any direction.

  “Now then, I think I’ve had enough of that,” he snarled. “And as for you, I’m beginning to think you’re a riddle best erased, instead of solved.”

  “Yeah?” I retorted. “Well the feeling is mutual, pal.”

  I stalked toward him with the gun still pointed at his head. My hand ached from the effort I put into pulling that trigger, but I didn’t let up for an instant. I had good reason not to. The fact he continued to stare at my gun told me what he was doing required some concentration.

  So I wanted to give him plenty of reason to concentrate.

  I kept the Coonan pointed at his face as I drew closer. At the same time, I let my other hand drop naturally to my side, and near the sheath of my knife. I had already stabbed one monster to death tonight, and I had no problem with making it two. I intentionally brushed it with my swinging wrist as I drew closer in order to know exactly where it sat on my hip when I reached for it…

  …and that’s when I discovered it was gone.

  Shit!

  It must have fallen out of its sheath when he knocked me on my ass with his damn lightning bolt!

  Which brought me back to the gun. The same gun Hallett and I now fought for control over.

  Yet this was a fight between wills and magic. I stopped about ten feet from where he stood on the church steps and now put everything I had into wresting back control. I didn’t have a lot of options left. We were both already drenched in perspiration, yet I had no doubt we both sweated anew at the strain. We were also both physically hurting. I might have been the bloodier of the two of us, but I could tell he had been injured as well. His face had gone slightly gray and he labored to breathe.

  And if this was a battle of wills, maybe I could use that to undermine his.

  “You don’t look so good,” I gasped. “Busted ribs, perhaps? Hard to breathe?”

  The hatred in his eyes was all the answer I needed.

  “Yeah, I thought so.” I pressed on. ”I’m thinking you’re not going to be able to keep this up too much longer. You’re tired, you’re hurting, and down deep you know you’re on the wrong side. But I’ll make you a deal. You give up right now, and I’ll make it quick. You’ll never even know it happened.”

  It pained me to realize how much that sounded like a cheap, B-movie villain. I was supposed to be the good guy here.

  Unfortunately, any hopes I had of breaking his resolve were misplaced. From the look on his face, I had evoked something more akin to rage.

  “You offer me mercy?!” he seethed. “You arrogant worm!”

  His glare intensified and I felt the iron glove extend over my elbow and down my arm.

  “You have no idea what you face!”

  He raised his closed fist higher and my arm rose until the gun pointed above his head. I couldn’t stop it. I fought it every inch of the way but now Hallett began to assert his advantage. Giving me a sneer of pure contempt, he jerked his fist and my hand fired the gun harmlessly over his head.

  “But I promise you this,” he thundered, “I… am… not… given… to… mercy!”

  He jerked his fist in emphasis with each word. And with each jerk my hand spasmed and pulled the trigger again. The pistol fired its last shot on his final word and the slide stayed back, revealing to the world it now sat empty.

  Hallett gazed down in triumph from his place on the stairs. I could see him savor the moment. Then he threw his arm wide while opening his hand. This caused me to do the same with enough force to spin me half around, while at the same time throwing my gun out into the night.

  “And that settles that little matter,” he openly gloated. “Now, let’s get on with the matter of… AIEEE!!”

  Mr. Hallett should have done a weapons count. I might have lost my firearm and my knife, but I had not yet been disarmed.

  When I spun back to face him, it was with the can of bear repellent in my hand. I kept it on my belt behind my gun holster as an alternative for beasties capable of scoffing at bullets. It has a range of up to twenty-five feet and the stream I fired hit him dead in the face.

  Bear repellent is essentially pepper spray. Actually, it’s pepper spray formulated to stop an angry bear. Needless to say, it’s absolutely illegal for use against humans, but at the moment I honestly didn’t give a shit.

  Hallett screamed and clapped his hand to his face. He almost fell, but recovered and stumbled back up to the landing at the top of the short flight of stairs.

  I piled into him about two seconds later.

  I didn’t really have a plan. I just drove him back against the double doors of the church and unloaded on him. Honestly, I didn’t know what else to do. It’s not like I was geared for killing a man with my bare hands. Sure, as a mystery writer I can type out a bunch of ways to do it, but real life is a whole different proposition.

  It finally occurred to me after the third or fourth punch that maybe I could knock him out, and then retrieve my gun in order to finish the job.

  But right about then Hallett almost fried us both with one of his lightning bolts. He was blind, disoriented, and getting the shit beat out of him, which resulted in him firing an unaimed blast into the ground about three feet to our right. The concussion almost knocked us both off our feet.

  I figured he wouldn’t risk doing it again, but then realized that under the current circumstances he had nothing to lose. Things were down to the nitty-gritty. I needed to either knock him out with my next two punches, or go to a Plan B.

  I opted for Plan B.

  My fist dug into his side with enough force to hurt it against his body armor, and a split second later I drove a knee into his groin for good measure. He almost dropped right there. I took advantage of the respite that gave me to yank open one of the church doors. By the time he realized what I planned, I had pushed him through and back into the lobby beyond.

  Then I ripped off my belt, threaded it through the handles of the double doors, and cinched it tight.

  A couple of seconds later the doors shook as he must have rammed back into one of them. I was surprised he recovered so fast, but
fortunately the belt held firm. As I expected, a thunderclap followed. That didn’t work either since despite their appearance of painted wood, they were actually exterior doors of reinforced metal.

  He would have to find another way out. Of course he had several options, especially since the church had a side door leading to the annex, and most likely a back door as well. He could also resort to breaking a window.

  But it still gave me a few precious seconds of not having to worry about being fried by one of his blasts. But what to do with those seconds?

  I hurried back down the steps and scanned the area where he had forced me to throw my gun. It only took a single look to realize the futility of the idea. The same white blanket of fog that concealed the ground would make finding the weapon almost impossible.

  It was also right then I noticed something else that meant there really wasn’t any point.

  My shoulders slumped and I turned back to face the church. As I did, I could hear Hallett chanting again.

  “K’tul enmou lzatle te saigo! Ai! Shub-Niggurath!

  Kyrupshe geon alu ha!

  Sietle donmu tiago da moresay! Ai! Hircine!

  G’ruth qzuetle alu ha!”

  His voice grew and changed as he repeated the chant. And not in a good way. It became deeper, louder, and achieved a tonal quality I could not identify. It sounded almost like one voice superimposed over another, with both speaking in perfect unison.

  I tilted my head and squinted at the church as the chanting stopped and a hush fell over the night. Something had changed. I could feel it in the air.

  Then the double doors came off.

  There was a terrific bang and a large pair of clawed hands appeared in the crack between them as they bowed outward. Those hands closed on the door’s edges, their talons sinking into the metal, and then they pushed those edges away from each other like parting a curtain. The doors folded like tinfoil before being jerked off their hinges and back into the darkness of the lobby.

  A second later the owner of those hands emerged.

  It barely made it through the doorway.