Apocalypse Rising
Authors: Eric Swett
Tags: #death, #Magic, #god, #demons, #Fantasy, #Angels, #urban fantasy
166
by
Eric Swett
By Eric Swett
Copyright © 2012 All rights reserved.
Smashwords Edition
Cover design by Jan Marie Parupia (
http://wordwriter1958.wordpress.com/
)
HAILEYBUG PUBLISHING
This book is dedicated to my wife and children.
Tracy,
Thank you for being my rock. You have always supported me in all of the insanity I pursue. I could not have done this without you.
Zachary and Connor,
You two remind me every day how easy it can be to smile if I only relax a little. I am truly blessed to have two such wonderful children.
TABLE OF CONTENTS
MORE TITLES FROM INDEPENDENT AUTHORS
“Stupid bastard,” is all Lilly says as she kicks David’s unconscious form into the gutter. Her lips curl into a sneer of contempt as she spits on him and turns away. Personally I think it is a little over-dramatic, but to be fair, David is in fact a stupid bastard.
“He didn’t see anything,” I say, “so he shouldn’t be in any trouble.”
“Why does he have to be so loud,” she says as she kicks him again. Lilly and I had been hiding in the bathroom of an abandoned warehouse so that she could shoot up, but we heard someone yell. We went out for a look, and saw Albert stabbing a woman with a very large knife.
“Let’s get out of here before one of Albert's goons find us," I say. "He's going to be pissed and I think he saw us." Albert was all expensive suit, slicked back hair, and friendly smile on the outside, but he was a sadist of the highest order on the inside.
“Sounds good to me," she says. “I don't want David to get hurt. He's had it hard lately.” Lilly and I walk down the street, trying to look casual, but our hurried pace is a dead giveaway. Lilly mutters under her breath, “Man, why did we have to go there? I mean, Jesus, of all the places to get a fix.”
“No shit,” I say as I hunch my shoulders, trying to look shorter than I my normal six-feet. I tuck my hair under my hat and pull the brim down low to hide my eyes.
Lilly reaches into her coat pocket and pulls out a cigarette. She tries to look cool lighting it with her father’s old Zippo, but I can see the tremble in her hands. “Do you think we should have left him?” She takes a drag off her cigarette and exhales through her nose. Her long, black hair and too pale complexion makes her look like a ghost amidst the cloud of cigarette smoke.
I reach for her cigarette and take a drag before handing it back. “Yeah, if we had hung around Albert would have gotten there, and I don’t think he will take it out on the unconscious guy.” I pick up my pace, its subconscious at first, but the more I think about it the more I want to put as much space as possible between David’s passed out form and myself. “Have you ever been on Albert’s bad side before?” Lilly shakes her head and keeps her eyes staring straight ahead. “I still have the scars from being there.”
“Well then what do we do now?” Lilly asks. Her voice is flat, but the way her eyes search out every shadow tells me that she is scared. She was dragged into this life less than a year ago and learned well the danger of exposing your fear, but this is the first time she was in a spot she could not talk or screw her way out of.
“We run. We keep running until we feel safe and then run a little more.” She is lucky to be with me tonight. I have an escape plan ready.
“It sounds a little cliché to me.”
“Yeah, I suppose it does.” The sad thing is that I am being honest. The bulk of my plan includes running. Some of the running will be done in a car, but it is still running. I figure we have about half an hour to be away from everything we know before Albert's people can close in on us. We might have a little more time, but I would rather assume that he will send his thugs instead of doing it himself. Albert likes to do things in person, but he is no fool.
I do not normally carry cash on me because it is far too easy to lose, and tonight is no exception. I would give just about anything for a little cash at this moment. We are too far from my apartment to walk and still get away. This late at night we are not going to get a taxi in this part of town. That really only leaves two options: take a bus and cut it close or forget about hitting my place and leave with nothing. It was not a question, but I hate the bus.
"Come on, Lilly." I say as I drag her down the street for another block. I look up and down the road, making sure we are not being followed, then cross the street. We take shelter in a rundown bus stop, hiding beneath the rusty, hole-riddled roof that was there long before Lilly was born. Hell, the thing was probably older than her parents, but the mottled shadows within feel safe. The dark gloom inside is more comforting than the unforgiving streetlights outside. I keep an eye toward the street, watching for the bus that is due in five minutes. Lilly shivers against me despite the warm breeze of the night.
Time slows as we huddle in the dark. Lilly talks tough and acts the part, but she is new enough to the street to still feel the fear. I surrendered my fear long ago. I have been down low so long that anything more than survival is the shadow of a dream glimpsed through tinted windows. Hope is forgotten as soon as reality crashes back around me. I do not give us much of a chance for success tonight, but I have to try. If nothing else, I want to find a way to get her out of this sewer and give her a real life.
The bus heralds its arrival with the screech of over used breaks. We hurry into the bus, showing our bus passes and quickly moving to the back. Thankfully, the bus is nearly empty. The only other passengers are a drunk couple furiously making out, a homeless guy who smells of wet garbage and urine, and a prostitute. The amorous couple and the homeless guys are the regular window dressing for a two A.M. bus trip, but I know the hooker. She lives in my building and works for one of Albert's associates. We are leaving a trail already.
The twenty minutes it takes to get to my apartment drags on for an eternity. The hooker, Charlene is her name I think, never looks back at us, but I keep my eyes on her just the same. I hope that she does not notice us, but I know she has been on the street too long not to have. In the movies, street people claim to see nothing, but the reality is that they notice everything. Survival depends on not being caught unaware, so you learn to take note of every little detail, no matter how insignificant they seem.
The bus jerks to a stop a block from my apartment. I stand and drag Lilly after me. We pass Charlene as she stands up. Subtly is out of the question. Speed is all-important and I know the clock is working against us. “Come on, we’re running out of time,” I whisper roughly to Lilly as we leave the bus. She struggles to keep up. Her high heels make it hard for her to walk on the crooked, broken sidewalk of my neighborhood.
