Rescue From Planet Pleasure (27 page)

Chapter Forty-nine

My neurons fired at super speed as I calculated how to put a bullet through Phaedra.

Air … calm. No need to adjust for windage.

Range to target … five hundred meters, give-or-take. The .45-70 wasn’t a long-distance cartridge. Compensate for the bullet drop by aiming way over her head.

Jolie bolted from the driver’s seat, M4 at the ready.

I was pulling the carbine to my shoulder when Phaedra’s psychic blast thundered into my head. Clenching my teeth, I tensed to withstand the attack.

To no avail. The blast crashed against my kundalini noir and ricocheted down my spinal column. Megawatt jolts of pain charged through my arms and legs. My mind flipped left, right, upside down, and all went black.

I woke face down in the dirt. My consciousness swam through a cesspool of nausea and pain. Round one of this battle and Phaedra had kicked my ass. Even with supernatural strength I’d need a minute to recover. As my thoughts cleared and I regained control of my limbs, I pushed up from the ground to see what more damage that witch Phaedra had inflicted on us.

Jolie lay beside me, on her back, squirming like a poisoned bug. Second by second, her aura morphed from red to orange. She rolled onto her belly, and the string of curses coming out her mouth assured me that she would survive.

Carmen had advanced a few steps and stood, fists against her sides, her posture rigid as she absorbed the full brunt of Phaedra’s barrage. Carmen’s posture eased, and I figured Phaedra had backed off from her attack.

An image projected into my brain. Coyote lay heaped on the ground inside a cramped enclosure, a small underground room.

I have him.
Phaedra’s voice echoed in my skull.
And he’s going boo hoo hoo. Oh woe is me.

The image dissolved into a gray noise of dull pain. Queasy and weak, I reached for the Marlin from where I had dropped it. I brought my knees under me and leaned on the carbine to rise to my feet.

Phaedra retreated down a trail to where tumbled adobe walls marked the edge of the Chaco ruins. My brain was still stuck in neutral and by the time I raised the Marlin for a shot, she had disappeared into the zigzag maze of the ruins.

Jolie hadn’t fired either, and we used this intermission to collect our marbles.

She, Carmen, and I occupied a draw in the sloped escarpment of the southern mesa. The escarpment flattened into the sandy wash at the bottom of the canyon. A dry creek meandered down the middle of the wash.

The Humvee idled fifty meters behind us. To the north and beyond the smoldering wreck of Gullah’s helicopter, smoke from the Cress Tech ambush rose over the ridge and unspooled across the stars in a crimson film. Gullah and Antoine hadn’t attacked alone, but I had no way of communicating with the rest of their forces. Even if I tried the radio in the Humvee, who would I contact?

Behind Phaedra, the canyon opened around Chaco ruins. Crumbling adobe structures filled the space between the cliffs of the northern mesa and the remains of the circular kivas. The tumbled walls were lined up like rows of weathered tombstones. Coyote could be locked up anywhere down there.

Along the creek bed and the trail, red auras burst among the shrubs and rocks. Eight, nine, ten humans formed a line two hundred meters away, between Phaedra and us. She had used this recess to deploy her human minions through psychic portals. Up until now, Phaedra had only used vampires. And these humans had come armed. Moonlight glinted off their pyschotronic disruptors.

Shaking from Phaedra’s mind blast, Jolie fired out her magazine as she fell. Tracers blasted from the gun’s muzzle and streaked through the air.

Psychic waves hammered my brain, punching from different directions like I’d been jumped in a barroom brawl. I dropped, but the pain halted because I had landed behind cover and out of the line of fire from the disruptors.

Carmen remained in the open. Flames of agony enveloped her aura. Not only was she absorbing the focus of Phaedra’s power, she stood in the intersecting blasts from the disruptors.

Helpless against the disruptors and Phaedra’s psychic mojo, I kept my body flat on the ground. I’d felt like this before in Iraq when the enemy rained mortar shells on my position. Like then, my mind clawed for a way out. But I couldn’t jump up and run or crawl out of this escarpment without getting mowed down.

I knew what was next. If Phaedra used the psychic portals to deploy the humans, then she’d soon dispatch her vampires. I drew my carbine close and waited. My reflexes, normally quick enough to steal cheese from a mousetrap, now creaked at rusty, blunt-tooth speed.

Carmen’s knees weakened. The crossfire of psychic blasts was beating her down. The final attack was about to commence. When the vampires appeared, the humans would advance behind them and give covering fire with the disruptors. Phaedra’s weapon of choice was undead suicide bombers, and she’d probably groomed her most devoted martyrs for this knockout blow.

Death was so close its icy fingers caressed my kundalini noir. If Phaedra won, all of our heroics had amounted to nothing. I would die. Jolie would die. Carmen. Coyote. All of us undead would be vanquished.

Our only option was to die fighting. Nothing glorious about our situation. The enemy would storm us until they wiped us out.

The ground stirred as if it were coming alive. Crows darted between the clumps of grass and sage. They moved like drips of inky black syrup, practically invisible in the gloom even to my vampire eyes. I saw them collect in twos and threes, then assemble in larger groups as they oozed over the ground in mass toward the humans. They walked around me. Over me.

I raised my head just enough to see what they intended. The humans had no idea the crows were marching on their position, and apparently, neither did Phaedra.

On some secret signal, the crows lit their auras and sprang upward in gouts of flaming red and orange. They swarmed over Phaedra’s minions, cawing and pecking. The humans screamed, dropped their disruptors and tried to fight them off.

I took my chance. I raised my carbine and hunted for Phaedra. But she was gone. So I drew a bead on a human covered in crows and sent him to minion Valhalla.

Jolie slammed a fresh magazine into her M4 and dropped two more humans.

Orange blobs of light erupted from the ground between us and the humans. Phaedra’s vampires had at last arrived. They wore suicide bomb vests and rushed us.

Another wave of crows roiled from the ground, a fountain of auras melding into a fiery smear. Raucous cawing blared through the night air. The crows descended on the vampires, enveloping them in a tsunami of feathers and beaks.

A vampire blew himself up. Pieces of crow spun past me. A second vampire exploded. More shredded crow. And a third vampire went boom. I levered the Marlin and fired, triggering another vampire explosion. Jolie and I panned our guns from vampire to human to vampire to human until we had run out of targets. The growl of explosions faded up the canyon. The air stank of spent ammo and burnt meat. Smoke corkscrewed from the muzzle of my carbine. The barrel of Jolie’s M4 glowed cherry red. I fished cartridges from my pocket and fed them into the Marlin.

Smoldering craters marked where the vampires last stood. The few surviving humans dragged themselves along the ground, whimpering and bleeding. Flocks of crows glided to the earth, darkened their auras, and retreated into the gloomy crevasses of the canyon floor.

Nerves primed, my vampire senses swept the darkness for more enemy. I headed toward Carmen and stepped over the smoking remnants of crows. As much as I disliked the feathered bastards, I had to acknowledge that they had saved our butts. The crows joined our attack because they had suffered as much as vampires under Phaedra’s hand, and apparently, they were just as eager to settle the score.

When I propped up Carmen, I felt the trembling of her maimed kundalini noir. I brushed a curl of sweat-matted hair off her forehead. She grimaced, then clasped my wrist and held my hand against her face. Sobbing quietly, she leaned into me. I couldn’t imagine the ordeal she had endured. If it had been me, I would’ve broken and we’d all be toast.

Jolie tossed her carbine aside and drew her .45s. “Let’s finish that bitch.”

Carmen let go of my hand, straightened and whispered, “Pity party over.”

“Maybe you should stay here,” I suggested.

Her aura bristled. “Fuck you.”

Jolie handed her one of the .45s. Carmen brushed it away. “When it comes time for me to kill Phaedra, it’s gonna be done old school.” Her fangs shined bright as polished daggers, and the talons sprang from her fingertips, menacing as straight razors.

I took the pistol and again offered it to Carmen. “Let’s not let pride get in the—”

“What did I just say?” she snapped.

“Fine, you win.” I slapped the .45 back in Jolie’s hand. “Let’s do this.”

We advanced down the center of the draw, Carmen in the middle, Jolie to her left, me to the right. Out the corners of my eyes, I saw columns of crows snaking along the ground toward the ruins.

Phaedra could appear behind us, but then who was left to guard Coyote? I doubted she kept a force in reserve. Once she thought she had us trapped, she would’ve thrown everything in her arsenal at us. Thanks to the crows, we had kicked the props from under her plan.

A green light dazzled my eyes and a fresh wave of psychic pain knocked me back a step. I gathered my strength to stand fast. But fighting against the mind blast was like trying to stay on your feet while getting smashed by a Mack truck.

The pain eased and it was Jolie’s turn to stagger backwards, then Carmen’s. I brought the Marlin up for a quick shot at Phaedra but her psychic wave whipped me once more.

When my vision cleared, I saw at the far end of the ruins, two auras rushing from the creek and darting behind the walls. Doña Marina and El Cucuy. As reinforcements.

“Watch your fire,” I warned Jolie. “Doña Marina and El Cucuy are here.”

“I’m glad they got off their asses to do something,” Jolie replied. “Phaedra can’t defend herself against all of us at once.”

That and El Cucuy could absorb her blasts and wear her out. That would let Jolie and me maneuver close for one quick shot.

The crows rose from the ground and lit their auras. They formed two orange, twisting pillars, one on Phaedra’s left, another to her right. The scream of the birds echoed against the mesa walls with immense fury, announcing their savage desire for revenge. They arced toward Phaedra like the jaws of giant pincers and clamped around her.

Her aura pulsed and the envelope of crows burst into a cloud of torn feathers and dust. The debris sloughed around her feet.

Another wave of crows poured over Phaedra. And again she pulsed her aura and hundreds of the birds vanished in clots of feathers and dust.

The auras reappeared from behind the ruins and sprinted back to the creek. Doña Marina and El Cucuy, who carried Coyote in his arms. Doña Marina hadn’t arrived to help us. No wonder she had agreed to my demand that she remain behind. She had conspired with El Cucuy to use our attack as a diversion to rescue Coyote. While I was willing to sacrifice Coyote to destroy Phaedra, Doña Marina was willing to sacrifice us to save her son. With centuries of practice, she was the master of playing one side against the other.

If Phaedra had figured out what Doña Marina had just done, she didn’t get the chance to act on it because another wave of crows attacked. They shrieked in hatred, rising and descending in a tsunami of wings and beaks and claws.

I yelled to Jolie, “Here’s our chance.”

I aimed the Marlin at the middle of the boiling mass of birds—certain that I could’ve drilled Phaedra—when crows swooped low to knock the Marlin aside. They fluttered around my head and Jolie’s, cawing angrily.

Carmen shouted, “They’re claiming dibs on Phaedra.”

And again, Phaedra pulsed her aura and dozens more crows died. She raked us with another psychic ray. When we recovered, she was retreating into the ruins, running away like a cowardly thief instead of the once mighty and self-proclaimed Queen of the Vampires.

Dazed crows limped on the ground, heads down, wings and tails drooping. One glanced up at me as if to say,
Okay vampire, your turn.

Having lost Coyote as a hostage, I was certain Phaedra might try to escape through a psychic portal. Yet I saw her dash through the ruins as if she were searching for a place to hide.

Mule deer appeared around the perimeter of the ruins.

Jolie shifted weight from foot to foot and flexed her grip on the .45s. “What gives?”

A buck circled behind us. It dissolved into a blur that stretched into the weird ungainly shape of a skin-walker.

We are blocking Phaedra’s escape.
The familiar voice unraveled in my mind. Yellowhair-Chavez. He advanced toward us, slender legs pivoting like stilts, preternatural hide shimmering like metallic gauze. He pointed his elongated, sightless head at me.
We cannot kill her but we can deny her entry access to the psychic portals.

I replied, “I thought you couldn’t interfere.”

Technically, no. But I’m bending the rules. Capiche?

I nodded. “Capiche.”

You have until daybreak.

“That’s plenty of time.” Jolie hustled to the ruins. “You guys cover me.”

***

Chapter Fifty

Jolie ran ahead of Carmen and me. She hurtled a wall and dropped out of sight. Didn’t she know our chances were better if we attacked as one?

I wanted to chase after her, but I couldn’t leave Carmen, who wasn’t in any shape to go leaping through these ruins. The best Carmen could do was amble forward, and she winced in pain with every step. My nerves were still frazzled from the repeated psychic blasts. Jolie’s must have been as well. But she smelled prey, and like an injured shark, ignored her wounds and dashed impulsively for the kill.

The skin-walkers wandered closer to the ruins. I didn’t know how their magic worked but they had boxed in Phaedra so we vampires could finish her off. For now, her dreams for domination of the undead world were in tatters, but she remained as dangerous as a viper.

Alone, Carmen and I wended through the maze of broken adobe walls, worn smooth by centuries of erosion. The crisp night air magnified the crunch of our footfalls on the sand. My fangs and claws were extended, and my finger curved over the trigger of my Marlin. I wanted to call out for Jolie, but then I’d give away my location.

A gunshot rang out. Then another. Then a woman’s muffled cry of pain.

Carmen and I froze, hoping to hear Jolie shout that she had gunned down Phaedra.

Nothing but silence.

We had stopped in a narrow corridor between two walls that stood taller than our heads. I peeked through a gap in the wall at my right and saw yet another wall. Too bad the crows weren’t around. I could use their scouting skills.

Another cry shattered the quiet. Carmen and I traded anxious glances. It was Jolie. This scream was louder, more brittle, and very close.

Jolie needed help,
now
! I whispered to Carmen, “Catch up when you can.”

I gathered my strength and sprang upward. I cleared the first wall, landed on the dirt, then flung myself over top of a second wall, ready to shoot.

A psychic blast knocked me blind. I came to as I tumbled across the ground and landed on my belly. The Marlin clattered just out of reach.

Felix, look at me.

A giant invisible hand clamped onto my skull and lifted my head from the dirt.

Phaedra had pinned Jolie to a wall. Their auras had melded in a boiling swirl of red, orange, yellow, and green. Jolie’s legs thrashed beneath her and it was Phaedra’s hold on her neck that kept her from sliding to the ground. Jolie’s arms hung to her sides and the .45s lay by her feet. Her eyes were bugged out, and her mouth opened to let loose another cry, a humiliating, frail sound that reminded me how impotent we could be against this evil cunt.

Phaedra stared hungrily at Jolie, the same way a serial killer studies a victim, searching for the best way to feed on the agony. She wore a denim jacket over a black lacey skirt and a matching waist sash decorated with glass vials, human bones, and dead crows. Clusters of herbs and dried flower blossoms clung to her tangled tresses. Phaedra looked like a teenage hippie chick who had given up granola and patchouli for torture and murder.

I groped for my carbine. Another mind blast slapped my brain. A dull ache replaced the receding pain. I blinked my eyes back into focus.

Adobe walls enclosed us on three sides. A rectangular hole had been recently dug in the center of the enclosure. Wooden surveyor’s stakes marked the corners of the hole. A small metal trailer rested close to the hole. The side of the trailer bore the markings: University of New Mexico, Native American Studies. The lock on the rear door had been torn off and the trailer gaped open. Shovels, a pick ax, and brooms lay scattered about.

I pushed from the ground to sit up. The world wobbled around me, and it took all my resolve just to keep from toppling over.

Phaedra pulled Jolie close.

Now for a taste of victory.

Phaedra opened her mouth and clamped her fangs to Jolie’s throat. A ring of white light burned where her lips touched. She released Jolie, who fell gasping and clutching at her neck. Her fading aura resembled the hesitant flames over a dying bed of coals.

Wiping her lips, Phaedra stepped back and licked blood from her fingers. Another blast kept me dizzy. An electric tingling itched my skin and paralyzed my limbs.

This war is far from over. Once I kill you three pests, I’ll regroup and start over. You have taught me much, and in gratitude, you will all get a quick death.

She bent down and picked up a shovel.

Watch.

Phaedra kicked Jolie onto her back. She planted her bare foot on Jolie’s chest and gripped the shovel with both hands, lifting it to use the blade as a guillotine. I struggled to move my hands and legs, but nothing worked.

An outburst of cawing thundered like a blast of artillery. A wave of crows surged over the walls and plunged down on Phaedra. They tore at her face and hair while she swatted at them with the shovel.

Her aura condensed and an intense keening drilled my ears. She pulsed her aura and its energy splashed like heat. Smoking bits of crow pelted me.

Weakened by the effort to create the pulse, Phaedra let her shoulders droop for a moment, then took her place over Jolie.

I drew from a reserve deep inside of me. Her spell fought back and tightened its chokehold on my kundalini noir. Trembling from the strain, I managed to slide my hand inside my jacket for the Colt magnum.

Phaedra lowered the shovel, turned her head and glowered. Her spell loosened from my kundalini noir and wormed into my right arm. My fingers closed around the grip of the pistol and slid it out of my jacket. My arm moved robotically, horrifically, and my wrist twisted until the pistol swung toward my face. The depleted uranium-silver bullets glistened in the cylinders like metallic pellets of poison. The muzzle’s bore appeared monstrously large, like the gun wanted to swallow me.

Now stand up
.

My legs pushed me upright. My shoulders turned so I faced Jolie, and the rest of my body rotated awkwardly like I was a marionette.

Jolie pushed up from the ground, staggering as if punch drunk and braced against the adobe wall. My arm shifted and pointed the revolver at her.

Now shoot her.

My finger curled against the trigger, then stopped. The front sight danced across Jolie’s body.

Phaedra’s spell clasped my wrist to hold the gun steady and centered on Jolie’s belly. My trigger finger started to squeeze but I fought to keep it frozen. Her spell coiled around my hand and my fingers cramped in the effort to resist. At the instant I thought she would win, I jerked to the left. The magnum boomed and spat a ball of flame. The slug chopped into the wall inches to Jolie’s side.

A sharp blow clipped the back of my head. Phaedra was beside me, drawing the shovel back for another swing.

Again.

My arm grew rigid and pointed the pistol at Jolie. Phaedra’s spell felt like two hands had seized my wrist to aim the magnum. My finger took up the slack of the trigger and stopped. Needles of pain sank to my knuckles, forcing the finger to tighten. At the moment when I could no longer stand the pain, I leaned backwards. The magnum fired harmlessly into the air.

Phaedra clubbed the shovel against the back of my head. Stars of pain whirled in front of my eyes.

What’s the matter, Felix?
She swung the shovel.

Wham!
Another blow to the back of my head.

Why are you resisting me? Did you think I would ever turn out any different than this? You knew from the beginning how dangerous I could be. Yet you turned me. You could’ve let me die.

Another blow. This time the stars burned through my brain.

But you didn’t. I guess I owe you. I should call you daddy.

Another blow. The agony clanged in my skull.

Daddy.

Wham!

Daddy.

Pain melted my resolve. Where was Carmen? Why wasn’t she using her powers to deflect Phaedra’s spell? Maybe Carmen was too weak. Then she shouldn’t stay. She should leave Jolie and me and save herself to continue the fight at another time. And where were the crows? El Cucuy?

Words clogged my throat, and her spell loosened enough to let me talk. The words croaked free. “Enough. You win. Just don’t hit me anymore.”

Another blow.
Why not? I’m getting the hang of this.

Phaedra’s spell evaporated from me. Jolie’s aura flashed in pain, and she crumpled to the ground.

I had only managed a quick pulse of relief before the spell returned, plunging back through my kundalini noir and taking control of my arm.

I jerked the trigger twice and the two bullets ricocheted against the wall.

Four rounds expended, two remaining.

Phaedra hit me again with the shovel.
Goddammit, what is wrong with you?

I wanted to drop from the pain but her spell kept me from toppling over.

You don’t want to play, then fine.
My spine straightened like a string pulled me upward by my neck. My arm twisted and brought the pistol back to my head, then pressed the end of the barrel against my temple. The more I wrestled to regain control of my arm, the harder the muzzle pushed. My consciousness shrank around the ring of steel digging into my skin. My kundalini noir quivered like it was going to shake itself to pieces. At any instant, the depleted uranium slug was going to blow my skull apart and paint the adobe with my brains. The tension of my impending death made my mind scream.

I waited. Phaedra’s hold on my kundalini noir tightened and relaxed. It tightened again, but not as strong. Something was happening. I was able to swivel my eyes and caught that Phaedra was watching one corner of the enclosure. I panned my gaze to see what.

Carmen staggered around the corner of a wall, tramping step-by-step as if advancing through a gale-force wind. She and Phaedra locked eyes. Spikes of hatred jutted from both of their auras.

Carmen raised her hands. Claws extended, she advanced on Phaedra, who staggered backwards and cocked the shovel to swing it like a club.

The spell on me weakened. And on Jolie. She rolled onto her belly and inched toward Phaedra. My arm dropped into my side. It felt rubbery and useless so I snatched the magnum with my other hand and aimed at Phaedra.

Jolie extended an arm and snagged Phaedra’s ankle. I held the pistol as steady as I could and fired. The bullet smacked Phaedra’s shin. She cried out, dropped the shovel, and collapsed onto her back.

The spell vanished and I sank to my knees. Too weak to raise the magnum, I watched Phaedra try to kick free of Jolie, who dug talons into her ankle. Blood gushed from the wounds.

Carmen shambled toward them. Phaedra tried to crawl backwards but Jolie held fast to her shattered, bleeding leg.

I reached deep and rallied my strength. I aimed the revolver at Phaedra’s torso and squeezed the trigger. The pistol barked flame. Phaedra shook as if kicked. She fell flat and lay still.

Then her head raised. Her eyes burned bright as a welding torch. Her lips parted wide, displaying her fangs. The back of her mouth began to glow and a shriek and a flame of sparks blasted out. She raked this flame at Jolie, then me. The sensation was like my kundalini noir was pelted by screaming, red-hot ball bearings.

Cringing, I brought my hands up to shield myself.

She aimed this flame at Carmen, who staggered backwards from the blow. The sparks ricocheted off Carmen like a stream of water striking a pole.

The flame and the shriek stopped. Phaedra stared at us, looking haggard, her face creased with wrinkles like this last attack had drained years from her spirit.

Carmen spied one of the surveyor’s stakes, dragged her feet close and yanked it free. She lifted it to her chest. Phaedra watched, too weak to move.

Jolie crawled forward and grabbed Phaedra’s left wrist and pinned her arm to the ground. I pushed myself toward our young monster and seized her right wrist. She tried to pull free but my fingers became like iron.

Phaedra scowled at us. “All of you, you’re going to eat shit in hell. You think this is over. I’ll come back. I’ll find a way.” She let loose a string of curses that would’ve burned the ears off a stevedore.

Carmen held the stake firm, the point away from her body. “Bitch, shut the fuck up.” She positioned herself between Phaedra’s feet and let herself topple forward.

Phaedra jerked her arms, but Jolie and I held firm. The stake punched into her sternum. She bellowed in pain. Blood spurted. Carmen fell flat against her. She pushed up to straddle Phaedra’s hips. Carmen’s hair swayed in greasy strands. Tendrils of rage lashed from the penumbra of her aura like she was channeling the fury of a lightning storm.

With a grunt and a sneer of contempt, Carmen shifted her weight against the stake and it sank deeper, crunching through bone, releasing another spray of blood.

Phaedra’s hands curled into fists. Her thoughts screamed into my head.

Pain. Mercy. Pain.

Carmen twisted the stake and screwed it in deeper. More blood gushed upward. She grunted again and gave the stake another twist.

Phaedra’s fingers slowly unclenched.

Pain. Pai—

Her aura contracted and dimmed. Carmen gave the stake one more twist. The aura disappeared as if Carmen had flicked a switch.

Carmen scooted off Phaedra and plopped against a wall. The dust of dried vampire blood sloughed from her face and hands. Jolie dragged herself to Carmen and wrapped an arm around her waist. She rested her head on Carmen’s thigh. Carmen closed her eyes and stroked Jolie’s hair. A dozen crows crept from the shadows and formed an arc around them.

A skin-walker sauntered into the enclosure like a bizarre caricature of a horse entering a stable. An iridescent gloss scrolled though his hide and his outline shrank into the shape of a man. Yellowhair-Chavez. He looked at Carmen and Jolie, then cocked his head to study Phaedra’s corpse.

“Any final words?” I asked in a raspy voice.

“I’ve dated worse.” He turned and walked away.

Too weak to do anything but rest, I lay on the ground. The back of my head ached. I could use aspirin. Better yet, morphine.