Clickers III (31 page)

Consumed by sheer, blind panic, Wade fled into the darkness, running deeper into the underground network of tunnels and passageways. Sweat, blood and dirt caked his flesh and clothing. His gasps and sobs were intermittently punctuated by agonized squeals as the baby Clicker beneath his pants plunged its stinger into his leg. Despite his terror, Wade had enough presence of mind to realize that the infant lacked the venom of its older kin. Otherwise, his legs would have been a bubbling, acidic mess by now. Still, that did nothing to ease the pain. It felt like someone was repeatedly stabbing him with an ice pick. The creature plunged the stinger into his ankle and then crawled a few inches up his leg. Then it repeated the process over and over again, stinging him on the calf, knee and lower thigh. Now, as he ran, he felt it inching higher.

Sobbing, Wade stopped and clamped both hands around his leg, slowing the creature’s advance. The nubs of his missing fingers throbbed and burned. The Clicker squirmed and wiggled beneath his pants. He couldn’t see it, but he could feel it there, seeking a way around the blockade. He thought about fumbling in the darkness for a rock—something he could use to bludgeon the Clicker, but he was afraid to remove his hand.

Wade had no idea how far he’d come, or where he was. The tunnel was silent except for his own ragged breathing. Even the echoes of his screams had died down. The darkness was absolute. He’d never suffered from claustrophobia, but he felt it now. The blackness enveloped him like a shroud.

The tiny stinger punched through the cloth of his pants and jabbed his left hand, just above the space where his missing fingers had been. Wade instinctively drew the wounded hand back, and the Clicker seized the opportunity to climb higher. He felt the small pincers graze his underwear. His balls shriveled tight beneath the fabric. The claws brushed up against it again. Then Wade felt them open.

“No!”

Curling his hands into fists, Wade beat at the Clicker, smashing it again and again, heedless of the blows he was inflicting on himself, as well. His bloodied stumps exploded in pain, but he ignored the sensation. There was an audible cracking sound, and then hot wetness splattered across his groin and thigh. The Clicker ceased moving, but Wade continued pummeling it, pulverizing the remains until it dribbled down his leg and pooled around his shoe. He didn’t stop until he’d accidentally punched himself in the testicles. Groaning, he collapsed to the ground, cradling himself with one hand and trying to ignore the nausea that suddenly swept over him.

He wasn’t sure how long he lay there, crumpled into a ball and weeping softly. Eventually, the pain eased and Wade uncurled himself and sat up. His joints and muscles ached, and the throbbing in his head and hand continued unabated. Using his teeth and uninjured hand, he tore some strips of cloth from his shirt and fashioned a crude tourniquet for his left hand.

I need to find the others
, he thought.
Need to get back to them before I get lost down here.

He shuddered, imagining wandering hopelessly for days or even weeks through this underground warren, until thirst or exhaustion did him in. Climbing to his feet, Wade reached out with both hands and felt around until his fingertips brushed against a hard surface on his right. A bit more exploration determined that he’d found a wall, rather than just a boulder. The space to his left was just empty darkness. Cautiously, he inched forward, letting the fingertips of his right hand trail along the wall for guidance. At intervals, the wall bent and curved, and his fingers slipped away. Then he’d grope in the darkness until he found it again. Wade couldn’t be sure if these intervals indicated branching tunnels and passageways, or if it was just the natural curvature of the rock.

This must be what it feels like for an astronaut on a space-walk. No, even they have more light than I do right now.

Suddenly, he heard the patter of footsteps. The tread was heavy and hurried, as if the person was running away from something or hurrying down the passageway. It couldn’t be one of the Dark Ones. If they were pursuing him, they’d be stealthy.

Maybe they aren’t chasing me. Maybe they’re running away from something.

“Hello?” Wade’s voice echoed in the darkness. “Jennifer? Susan?”

The footsteps stopped just a few feet away from him.

“T-Tony? Is that you?”

Something snorted. Wade took a deep breath and smelled that all-too familiar reptilian stench. He heard something—claws or perhaps scales—slither against the rocks.

“Oh no—”

Roaring, the fleeing Dark One fell upon him in a flurry of talons and teeth. Wade’s scream lasted until the beast tore his bottom jaw from his face, but he lived for a few more minutes after that. The pain was enough to make him forget all about his missing fingers or the ache in his head. With each strip of flesh that was flayed from his body, with each organ or limb that was ripped away, such trivialities became less important.

“Let me get this straight,” Tony said. “You want me to say the magic words, kill Clark, then say them again, along with that other nonsense, and then Dagon will go the fuck back to wherever it is he came from?”

“That is correct.”

“Tony…” Clark took another step forward. “You can’t seriously be—”

“Shut the fuck up.” Tony turned his attention back to Amethyst. “Why can’t you or Diamond do it? Or why can’t we just use Ruby or one of the Dark Ones as the sacrifice? I mean, they’re already dead, right? Their blood was spilled here.”

“Leviathan can only be bound or banished by one of The Seven. This is no minor demon or paltry deity we’re dealing with. He is one of the thirteen beings that existed before this universe was created. As for Ruby and the Dark Ones, the sacrifice must be made after the initial words are spoken, and it must be made by your hand.”

“Tony?” Jennifer’s tone was shocked. “What are you doing? Tell me you’re not actually considering this.”

“I don’t see that we have a fucking choice, Jennifer. These Black Lodge guys have been right about everything so far. I mean, sure, I’ll admit—I was skeptical at first, too. It all sounded like bullshit to me. But standing here, seeing that thing actually floating there in the air, I’m convinced. My fucking head hurts. I want to get the fuck out of here.”

“But he’s your friend!”

“Not really. A guy like me ain’t got many friends. I had one, once. Vince. But he ain’t around no more. This guy, Clark, originally sought me out just to fucking use me. Story of my life. Marano. The Feds. I’m sick of being used.”

“But that was then,” Clark insisted. “Okay, yes. At first, I was going to use you. Hell, I admitted it to you. But not now. She’s right,

Tony. Maybe we’re not friends, but we’re certainly not enemies. I’ve had your back this whole time.”

“And I had yours. And that don’t mean shit. It’s a fucking war zone, Clark. You do whatever the fuck you have to do to survive. And that’s what I’m doing now.”

Spittle ran down Clark’s chin. “Goddamn it, Tony, don’t do this!”

“What fucking choice do I have?” Tony yelled. “You think I fucking like doing this, Clark? You’re okay. You deserve better. So did a lot of other people that I’ve killed over the years. You need to understand something. This is what I do. This is what I’m good at. This is the
only
thing I’m good at. It’s like that old song by The Police. I can turn my heart to stone and then turn killing into an art.”

Jennifer made a choking sound, as if she were about to throw up.

Amethyst spread his hands in an almost apologetic gesture. “As I said back at your apartment, Tony, when you insisted on bringing Clark along—his blood would be on your hands.”

Clark lunged, but Diamond seized him. The two grappled, struggling with each other at the edge of the portal. Diamond’s sheer size and strength won out. He held Clark in a bear hug and planted his feet.

“So what do I have to do? Stab him with a sacrificial knife or some shit like that?”

Amethyst shook his head. “No. Shooting him will suffice. Quick and painless. The point is he has to die by your hand.”

Jennifer spat. “How can you be so clinical about this?”

“I’m not,” Amethyst replied. “Believe me, I don’t like this anymore than you do. Mr. Arroyo is an innocent in this struggle, just as you are. Unfortunately, a sacrifice must be made. I dare say Mr. Genova would refuse to have you fill that role. Therefore, it must be Clark who dies for the betterment of all mankind. Humanity’s protection is writ in the blood of innocents. It’s a necessary, if unpalatable, part of what we do. Tony understands this. Indeed, because of his past, he is uniquely suited to understand this better than most.”

Clark suddenly raised his foot and drove his heel down into the arch of Diamond’s foot. The big man grunted, but did not relinquish his hold. Clark’s eyes went wide as Tony pointed the rifle at him and sighted.

“Sorry about this, dude.”

“Tony…please.”

Tony squinted. “Jesus, my head is fucking killing me.
Ia verm…”

“Verminus,”
Amethyst prompted.

“Right.
Ia verminus Leviathan. Ia destrato Leviathan. LEVIATHAN.
That okay?”

Amethyst nodded.

Tony, Clark and Jennifer all moaned at the same time as the pain in their heads increased tenfold.

“Dagon is close,” Amethyst yelled. “He’ll breach any minute now. Hurry, Tony.”

Clark seemed to relax. Nodding, he said, “Go ahead then, you son of a bitch. Let’s get this over with.”

Tony motioned at Diamond with the barrel of his rifle. “Get the fuck out of the way, Marion.”

Releasing Clark, Diamond stepped aside—

—and Tony shot him in the face. The round punched a neat hole between the big man’s nose and mouth, and blew out the back of his head, splattering Clark with gore. Blood and skull fragments soared through the portal and splashed into the water on the other side. Before Clark could even blink, Tony pumped another round into Diamond’s stomach. The agent staggered backward, making a peculiar mewling sound, and then toppled over face first.

“GENOVA!”

Tony spun. Amethyst raced toward him, hands raised and fingers splayed. Blue light flickered between his fingertips. Tony wasn’t sure what he was doing, but whatever it was, it couldn’t be good. Tony lowered the weapon and squeezed off a short burst, effectively amputating both of Amethyst’s legs at the knees. Screeching, Amethyst lay on the ground, thrashing and clawing as blood sprayed from his ruined stumps. Behind him, Jennifer shrieked. Clark seemed momentarily stunned.

“Like I said,” Tony said, standing overtop Amethyst. “I don’t have a lot of friends. I’d like to keep the ones I
do
have.”

“You bastard,” Amethyst muttered through blood-stained teeth. “You fucking bastard.”

“Don’t blame me. I tried telling you guys when you first busted into my apartment—I’m retired now. My name’s not Tony Genova. It’s Larry fucking DiMazzio. And Larry DiMazzio doesn’t kill on command.”

He shoved the smoking gun barrel against Amethyst’s left eye and pulled the trigger. Then he glanced up at Jennifer. What Tony saw on her face nearly broke his heart. Her mouth hung open and she stared at him with a mixture of fear and revulsion.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, “but this is who I used to be. I don’t know. Maybe it’s all I’ll ever be.”

She started to speak, but then, clutching her stomach, she turned