Eve of Redemption (24 page)

“Ung…bnhg…” the cop muttered.

Then, the cop’s head exploded in front of their eyes, followed closely by the sound of a gunshot. Burke and Martinez glanced at one another and then dropped to the ground and rolled behind the cabin.

“Think we just confirmed he wasn’t alone,” Martinez said.

“You think?”

Another shot rang out, splintering the dry wood of the cabin inches from Burke’s face. He scrambled further back, pulling Martinez with him. His hand brushed over something, and he picked up the dead cop’s gun as Martinez pulled his own pistol from beneath his jacket. Without another glance behind them, the two men dove into the cabin and slammed the door.

THE SERPENT LAUGHED as he squeezed off another shot. He’d never fired a gun before, and he found it loads of fun. He was a natural at it, too. He’d nailed the cop right in the head on the first try, with the man’s own gun no less. He laughed again as he watched the two men duck for cover. He knew he wouldn’t be able to hit Burke. Oh no, that wasn’t allowed, was it? Burke’s protection made him untouchable. But the Serpent had other ways of doing damage. Besides, no one said the other guy was off-limits.

The Serpent looked down the sights of the pistol again, amazed at how clear the shot looked to him. Whatever had happened back there with the old woman, he felt Lord Denizen’s power flowing through him again. His master had not deserted him. The Serpent aimed at the corner of the building, knowing that the gun had the power to punch a bullet right through the rotted wood. He didn’t know guns, but this one had sure done the trick on its owner’s head. Popped that zit.

The Serpent laughed, feeling better than ever. The moment he had buried the knife in the woman’s chest, something had happened—something terrible and wonderful at the same time. The Serpent wasn’t afraid to admit, to himself at least, that he had been scared at first. That old woman possessed power beyond what his master had shown him. He had run out of that place like a little girl, leaving his favorite knife behind. Only after he’d fled deep within the cover of the trees did he fall to his knees and heave his guts out. He had been shaking badly, but he felt better after puking. Then, he realized why he was sick and shaking. Every memory of all the ugliness of his life had raced through his head, stoking the hate within him like a bonfire.

Sometime during all this, the Serpent had lost his hold on the cop—lost his hold on everything, for that matter. For a time, he knew nothing. When he came to his senses once again, he was staring up through the pines at the blue sky above. His awakening was not a slow confused ordeal. He remembered where he was and what was happening. And he felt strong—really strong.

The Serpent had gone back to the edge of the forest and taken in the scene at the cabin. He had hoped the cop would be able to kill Burke, but the idiot had screwed everything up and gotten himself caught. That no longer bothered the Serpent. Like everyone, the cop was expendable.

Now as the Serpent stood, laughing at the futility of the men in the cabin, the shadows around him grew deeper.

That was when he saw them. They were everywhere, coming toward him.

Brothers. His brothers.

Demons.

Thousands of them, coming to do his bidding. He knew what was going on, as if this sort of thing happened every day.

Victory. Let me show you what you have become.

The Serpent smiled. “Yes, Master. Show me.”

B
urke rolled into the small cabin. Another shot rang out, and one of the two windows imploded. Burke reached up and slid the dead bolt home before crawling across the room to ensure the back door was locked as well. Martinez peeked over the window sill.

“See anything?” Burke wondered why he was whispering. It wasn’t like the shooter didn’t know where they were.

“No,” Martinez said. “They’re in the woods.”

“How you set for ammo?”

“Full clip in and one extra.”

Burke knelt beside Martinez and risked a quick look out the broken window. Directly in front of the cabin lay the bodies of Katrina and the cop. The path to the lake extended to their right, and the forest sat on their left. Everything seemed still and quiet.

“You think the cop had backup?” Burke asked.

Martinez shook his head. “Didn’t act like it. Besides, I swear I heard laughter after the kid was shot.”

“And the shot was too perfect.”

“That’s why I’m keeping my head down.”

“I don’t get it,” Burke said. “No matter what we do, things just keep getting worse.”

Martinez turned his back against the wall and closed his eyes. “I’m trying to be strong, to trust the Lord, but I’m about at the end of my rope here. Ever since I found your sorry carcass in the park…”

Burke remained silent.

“Only thing that keeps me going is trusting that Trinny was right. That she was being kept alive for a purpose. She had such faith.” The big man looked over at Burke, tears running down his cheeks. “I have to have that same faith, or I’ll hate you so much I might just kill you myself.”

“Join the club,” Burke muttered.

Martinez chuckled. “Yeah, what’s one more person wanting you dead, huh?”

“Just a few days ago I considered killing myself. Now it seems like everyone wants me dead—but I’m still here. Red talked a lot about purpose, like your wife. I really didn’t go for it at the time, but now I have to admit I’m beginning to wonder.”

Martinez turned and took another glance out the window. “Speaking of your ghost, where is she? Could use all the help we can get here.”

Burke shrugged. “I haven’t seen her since the lake. She does seem to have a habit of disappearing when trouble starts.”

For a time, Burke sat in silence. Martinez seemed lost in his own thoughts as well. Burke was about to suggest the shooter might have left, when he heard something in the distance. He cocked his ear toward the window and held his breath.

“You hear that?”

Martinez looked at him. “What?”

“Listen. I think I hear barking.”

After a second, Martinez said, “Dogs. Coming closer.”

A shadow fell over the cabin, and Burke looked up to see dark clouds drifting in over the lake. Within moments, the shadow of twilight descended on them, though it was still the middle of the day. As the darkness fell, the sound of barking drew closer.

Martinez risked another peek out the window. “Could this possibly get any weirder?”

“After all we’ve seen over the last few days, I don’t want to know the answer to that question.” Burke knelt and looked outside. He saw something move at the edge of the tree line and ducked out of the window. “Something’s out there. I couldn’t tell if it had four legs or two.”

“The barking’s close by. I’d guess four. This could work out in our favor,” Martinez said. “A pack of wild dogs out here will be hungry.”

Burke gaped. “And that’s good for us, how?”

Martinez smiled. “We’re in here. The shooter’s out there.”

The man has a point,
Burke mused. Packs of wild dogs had terrorized rural areas for the past decade. Gas prices dried up the small, mountain and desert towns that relied on vacationers, and the populations who had lived there moved to the cities. Many left their dogs behind to fend for themselves. Over the years, the dogs had mated with local coyotes, creating a new breed of predator.

Burke saw more shadows darting in and out of the trees. The barking became more like baying. “Do they normally sound like that?”

Martinez shrugged. “I’m a city boy. What do I know about wild dogs? But I bet they’re gonna go for the bodies. Probably what drew them in the first place.” In the dim light, the big man’s face showed no emotion, but Burke heard the pain in his voice. Once again, Burke wished he had something to say.

A stiff breeze began to pick up. The trees swayed and hissed as the wind blew through the leaves. Dirt blasted the cabins as clouds accumulated above them. “Laura and I used to come up to the mountains before Sara was born. We had a storm like this roll in on us one time, before they put the cabins in. We were camping with only a tent. It hit so fast we didn’t even have time to tear down camp. We just tossed what we could in the car and took off. I thought we wouldn’t make it down the mountain.”

Another howl sounded from the oncoming storm. Other howls answered. Many others.

“Get ready,” Martinez said. “They’re about to make their move. Storm’s gotta be spooking them, but the scent of meat’s making them brave.”

As if on cue, the first dog entered the area between the cabins. It was a scrawny thing, but not for a moment did Burke think of it as weak. Two more skulked from the shadows to join the first. One of them raised its snout and sniffed the air, and then let loose a howl. The proximity of the beast as it called out caused the hairs on the back of Burke’s neck to stand up. He shuddered, not wanting to think about how many others might be out there. More shadows moved about the cabins now.

They were everywhere.

“Didn’t know they traveled in such large packs,” Martinez muttered.

Burke shook his head. “They don’t. They could never find enough food to feed a pack that large.”

“Where could they be coming from?” More howls rose in the distance.

“It’s like they’re being called.” Burke watched as one of the dogs snapped at another. Then, it turned toward the cabin in which the men were huddled. Its golden raptor-like eyes locked on the window.

Both men jumped as something heavy slammed against the back door of the cabin.

“What the—” Burke almost shouted.

“They’re trying the door,” Martinez said. “They’re actually trying the door.”

“They must find food in old buildings like this and know that the doors are the way in,” Burke said, trying to rationalize the irrational. Another body hit the door, but the deadbolt held.

A sudden crash sent glass showering down on Burke. He yelled, covering his head with his arms. Something hit the floor in the center of the cabin, and Burke looked up to see one of the dogs turning to face them, its mouth drawn in a tight snarl. Before Burke remembered that he held the dead cop’s gun in his hand, an explosion from his left deafened him. The dog squealed and dropped as the bullet from Martinez’s gun tore into it. The big man shot the convulsing beast a second time for good measure.

“Gotta cover the windows,” Martinez said as he stood and took up a position at the window nearest the front of the cabin. He glanced at the pistol in Burke’s hand. “Know how to use that?”

Burke nodded. “I had a client who would only meet at gun ranges. Said it was the only place he felt safe. I got quite a bit of practice.”

The dogs were everywhere. The steady wind blew their shaggy coats as howls tore from their throats. One of them glared at Burke before springing toward the window. Burke’s pistol cracked, sending a slug through the beast’s body. The carcass thudded against the wall of the cabin just beneath the window and slumped to the ground.

As the sound of the gunshot cleared, an eerie quiet settled over the scene. The dogs continued to lurk, but they backed off and no longer howled. A few cocked their heads, listening to something only they could hear. They seemed skittish, not wanting to approach the cabin. Even the leader backed away, sniffing the wind and whining.