The Dark Communion (The Midnight Defenders) (29 page)

“Yeah, and it wasn’t fucking pleasant from the look of things,” I said.

“What could do that?” Chuck asked.

“Brom.”

“Why?”

“Well,” I said. “He controls them through will…. Wendigos are fucking wild and savage. Maybe harder to control.”

“A beast like a Wendigo would take more of his energy, allow him to control fewer at a time,” Finnegan said. “He keeps them mostly human so he can control them.”

The thing on the wall moaned, long and dry like the creaking of an old door, and his outstretched arm began to swing down, the webbing bending with him, and the eyes looked down at us. Its legs began to struggle, and the head cocked to the side as it spoke: “You. I thought I killed you.”

“I’m a little harder to kill than that,” I scoffed.

“I know why you have come, but you are too late. The boy is dead.”

I brought Glory up to my shoulder and I said, “Fuck you, Brom.” I fired.

The creature’s head shot backward then fell forward again, dangled limply, and was silent. Fluid and grey matter oozed from the hole in its forehead.

Outside, a gun went off. Ape yelled something, and three more shots rang out.

“Ah, dammit,” Chuck said. “Here we go again.”

.

35

All around us, the wax figures of the child-fuckers began to come alive, and we moved quickly back through the room. A skeletal hand grabbed at Chuck’s jacket, and he spun the Glock up and put two rounds between the creature’s eyes. It let go and staggered back before it toppled over, falling across the doorway to momentarily prevent others from trailing after us.

The gunfire was louder in the main cave. Ape, Nadia, Anderson and the officers stood together in the middle of the room in a kind of cross-formation, their backs to each other, weapons in-hand sparking muzzle flares into the gloom, and almost every one of the two dozen buildings was issuing forth a small army of Brom’s children, distorted, waxy, and twisted by the dark ritual. All of them were still humanoid, but they were no longer human: the used up, discarded husks of a demigod with no willpower of their own, animated by the twisted will of their Korrigan “father.”

As Finnegan, Chuck and I charged out of the door, the priest quick-drew his pistols and fired akimbo, a soupedup action hero exploding heads like watermelons at a fucking Gallagher show. The children of Brom began to take notice and charged us.

I propped Glory against my shoulder and switched to semi-auto. Beside me, Chuck raised his shotgun at armlevel, ducked his head slightly, and we followed in-step with Finnegan.

As we reached Ape, his sword-cane flashed before him, glowing a dim purple that looked like a beacon in the darkness. “I was going to tell you we found a room full of these bitches,” I called. “But it looks like you might already know that.”

“Not now, Jono,” he spat, and his blade rent the head of an old woman into two clean pieces.

Finnegan, Chuck and I fell into formation beside the others, and the throng of creatures swelled around us, pressed in on all sides until we were a lone island in a raging sea of flesh-eating, Brom-driven hobos and tramps.

I turned Glory to automatic and emptied my clip. By the time I’d chambered my third, I’d dropped a dozen of the things, but everywhere I looked, the heat signatures in my glasses couldn’t have been more intense or intimidating if we were surrounded by wildfire. I flipped the glasses onto my forehead so I could see where one child-fucker ended and another began, using Glory’s light alone to see by.

“Stay close!” I called out. “Stay together.”

In the chaos, Nadia cried out, and I turned to her. An old man clung to her back, an arm around her neck. Two more came at her from the front. Before I could get to her, a bright red light threw the old man from her shoulders and she pumped her shotgun and splattered the others without missing a beat.

She emptied the last round in her shotgun as another came at her from the side, its fangs bared and yellowmucus, thick and stringy like syrup, dripped from its open cavity. She turned on the creature, pulled the trigger and heard the click. Swore quietly, smashed the butt of the weapon against the creature’s face, knocked it back a step.

She tossed the gun over her shoulder and her hands began to glow bright green. It continued toward her, and she slammed her fists into its chest, threw it a hundred feet into the air where it crashed through the remnants of a window in a nearby building.

Having seen me watching, she turned and smiled. “I’m okay.”

She hadn’t seen the two coming up on her back, their heads visible over her shoulders, and I switched Glory to single-shot and put a bullet into each of them. Fucking, William Tell would have been proud.

Her eyes went wide as she spun to see the fallen creatures behind her. “Don’t get cocky, love,” I said.

Peters yelled as one of the things clawed at her legs. Finnegan stepped close with his pistols, triggers pulsing, bullets flashing.

Chuck and Anderson had apparently spent their shotgun shells and switched to their service pieces, the FBI man double-fisting it with my Glock.

Anderson looked pale and sweat poured from his forehead. From his wet, torn sleeve, I could tell he’d lost a lot of blood.

I put a bullet through each of the VagaBroms closest to me and rushed to the Detective, batted a bum away with a backhander, jumped the flailing remains of another as he fell across my path – face sunken, the green glow of Nadia’s light circling his breast like a dying mist.

“You okay?”

He nodded. “I could use some water.” He didn’t look at me, fired off three more rounds.

Beside us, Chuck took a fresh cut across his shoulders and staggered backward into Anderson with a scream, and they both toppled over.

Glory barked and bellowed commands in the rat-a-tattat rhythm of a marching drum as the three that got Chuck continued their advance. Limbs severed and dropped to the dust. Hunks of tissue broke away and fell like white pollen blown off dandelions.

Chuck was back on his feet with an apologetic look.

The wound in his neck was shallow. The scuffs across his chest might have done more damage had the Kevlar vest not taken the full force of the blow.

I turned my attention to Anderson. “Hang in there,” I said.

One of the bums was coming up behind him trampling over Nadia’s latest kill to take a swipe at the exhausted cop, and I shot once. The bullet caught the bastard in the eye and spun it.

I helped Anderson stand. “I’m out of ammo,” he said.

I passed him Glory and my last three clips. “Take good care of her.” He nodded gratefully and dropped his own pistol.

As Glory sang, I noticed that we were being gradually overtaken by a bloody hurricane. Chuck, Anderson and Peters wore panicked, desperate looks. Nadia, Vaughn and Finnegan were close and seemed to be doing alright. For the moment. My body fucking ached. I could feel the sag of my own muscles, noticed my breath coming in shorter, labored gasps. We couldn’t keep this up for long. We needed to regroup, refocus…something.

I pulled my shotgun from my back and chambered a few bolo rounds. Made sure nothing but the Children of Brom stood in my way and finger-pumped the trigger like it was the g-spot. The metal bolo cables tore through the air like buzzsaws, cleanly severing heads from shoulders four or five rows deep, clearing a space in front of me.

Chuck appeared at my side. “I’m out of bullets.”

I pulled my second Glock and handed it to him. “There’s not much, but it’s something.”

I lifted the shotgun and fired above his shoulder, took down two that were inching closer.

“What I need is a sword like your partner over there,” and he motioned to Ape and his shogun-like ballerina dance, the violet light burned arcs in the air for several seconds with each swipe, his blade threshed the zombielike creatures like the machete of a jungle explorer. Arms flew like reeds, tatters of clothes leapt above the chaos like chaff. As he advanced, they surged around him, and in a moment, all I could see were the sunken, hollow eyes and hungry, gaping mouths of Brom’s used-up, discarded mansuits.

“We can’t keep this up,” he said, but I wasn’t really listening.

“These things are human,” I said.

“Uh…what?”

“The sword glows around the Midnight, and these things are technically human. Which means….” I chambered two more bolos and fired into the crowd, scanned the vacant doorways and the darkened windows of the buildings around us. I summoned all the strength I could and screamed, “BROM!! Come and face me, you fucking coward!”

Time seemed to halt. The guns barked, and Ape’s sword shone in vicious arcs. The creatures suddenly stopped moving, and a hush fell over the roar of gunfire. For a moment, with the exception of the heavy, labored breathing, all was quiet.

Then as one, the chorus ring of child-fuckers threw their heads back and a mirthless laugh echoed from every mouth in unison. The acoustics in the cave and the darkness in the voice sounded together like roaring applause.

Then, just as quickly as it had come, the sound died away. An uneasiness fell across the room, and none of us moved, no gun blazed, and the purple light of Ape’s sword flared brighter, hotter, almost white until I had to shield my eyes or go blind.

“Have you an arm like God and can you thunder with a voice like his? Clothe yourself with glory and splendor?” Brom cackled. “He who contends with God, let him answer it.”

“Behold Leviathan!” Then many cried as one, “Behold Elensal!!”

Ape’s sword went dim, and I opened my eyes in time to see the nearest of Brom’s children collapse as if they were nothing but limp dolls. The gathered crowd around us began to topple like stacked dominoes, sweeping back in a rippling effect until every one of the creatures was lying on the ground and the red-orange glows they emitted in the Hand’s glasses went dark.

“What was that about?” Chuck asked.

Ape found his way over to me and said, “I hope you know what you’re doing. You know how powerful and well-fed he has to be?”

“Finnegan said the ring draws off his energy. He had to have drained his batteries to command those childfuckers. This’ll be easy peasy.” I flashed him a wry grin.

The air around us began to tremble, the hair on my neck and arms stood on end, and a low vibration began underfoot.

“Earthquake,” somebody moaned, and the tremor began to rise in intensity, bricks crumbled from the walls nearby.

From the dark cave at the far end of the room, a noise emanated like the deafening whistle of a steam train, and two glowing embers sparked in the darkness.

“Oh, shit,” I breathed.

“What is it?” Nadia asked.

“Jono?” Ape said.

A bout of flame erupted from the cavern, writhed back and forth like a serpent. In the fire’s glow, I could just make out the scales, the broad wings, and the swinging motion of an alligator’s tail.

“Ape,” I said. “I don’t think Elensal's a place after all.”

.

36

In nearly twenty years of hunting Midnight, I’d fought only one dragon, a fucking baby being held as a pet by a nasty, bloody warlock. Mind you, I’m not a knight; I don’t carry a sword. I got my arse handed to me that day.

And that was a baby.

Elensal ran at us on all fours, its wings raised like the billowing sails of a ghost ship, its tail sloshing back and forth eagerly behind it. I could see the burning embers of its eyes set into the flat, amphibian face. With every step came a deep, huffing breath, and with every breath came a dark, volcano plume of smoke like a cartoon bull.

When it was twenty feet from us, it lurched back, shifted its weight to its hind legs, and pounced.

We scattered.

I threw myself to the side and landed on my stomach, quickly rolled to my back. It landed as lightly as a cat in the place we’d all stood a moment before, swung its massive head around, and let out a sonic, shrill cry. I couldn’t see the others, didn’t know if they had gotten away, but as the dragon’s call faded, I heard someone scream, “Vaughn!” And as the creature turned its lizard face to me, I saw the human arm dangling limply from its jaws.

“Fuck!” I spat and closed my eyes for a moment, pushed it away. I couldn’t care. Casualties happened. I couldn’t let it slow me down.

I opened my eyes to a flash of bright green, and Nadia cried out. An emerald burst hit the wall behind the creature, and one-by-one, bricks began to crumble free, raining down around it.

Elensal didn’t seem to care, and it raised its heavy, leathery wings over its head like an umbrella to shield its face.

Then it turned its head toward Nadia with narrowing eyes.

Finnegan came up on its side. As his pistols blazed, sparks ignited against the scaly hide.

Elensal spun, tail going wide, and the priest only just managed to get free of its reach as he rolled into the dust. The thick alligator tail crashed into the brick wall, and there was something in its demeanor, something in the way it flung sections of brick the size of small automobiles at Nadia that seemed to say, I can play this game, too…bitch.

Nadia leapt the first hunk that crashed near her like an asteroid and hit the next few with red energy which dropped them like ACME anvils.

The tail struck again and again. Tire-sized hunks of brick launched toward Nadia, and she side-stepped around them, her hands alternating red and green like a Christmas display until the ground around her was stuck intermittently with stalagmite sections of wall that looked like the plates on a stegosaurus’ back.

I pulled myself up and clumsily drove myself forward, but before I could attract the dragon’s attention, Ape stepped from the shadows, his sword encased in a violet light so thick it looked like a bloody lightsaber.

Ape’s eyes were fierce, and I knew the look well. Every muscle in his body tensed, primed, ready to engage – just like back at Seven’s place.

“BROM!” he thundered.

His sword was out before him, an extension of his arm that aimed for the dragon, and Elensal’s eyes sparked like glowing cinders and narrowed to meet the challenge.

“APE!” I yelled. “What are you fucking doing?!”

I grabbed Grace and stumbled forward, let off all three chambered rounds before I took my second step, each only sparked and ricocheted from its hide.

Elensal cast a sideways glance at me and threw me the dragon equivalent of a big “fuck you,” swatting me with his tail like I was a fly on a horse’s arse.

Luckily, I saw it coming, but only at the last second, and though I dove, he caught me in the side, spinning me rolling and breathless. My Kevlar vest took the brunt of the blow.

Ape was in motion before I could regain my footing, slicing the air before the beast. He looked tiny standing before it, as the dragon was at least twice his height at its shoulders and nearly forty feet long.

Elensal retreated from the blade, winced as the light neared its face, ducked its head as the tip of the sword barely glanced across its forehead. With each step, the dragon huffed and twice I thought I even heard it speak.

I wanted to move. Everything in me said I should rush forward to help my mate, but I just stood there, watching it unfold like some ancient ballet. Then, just as it appeared Ape had the creature in a corner, when it couldn’t step back any further, it reared up on its hind legs and leapt.

But it didn’t land on Ape.

Its mouth opened and air so hot that it rippled filtered across its jagged teeth. Black smoke trickled from the corners of its mouth, and it looked straight down at Ape.

I chambered a bolo round, and the steel cable exploded from the gun. As Ape turned to evade the fire, the cord caught him around both ankles, toppled him onto the ground as a thick column of red-orange flame passed through the area where his head had just been.

Elensal landed, agile as a house cat, wings billowed out behind it like a couple of sodding parachutes, and spun its head back toward Ape, let out another column of flame.

Finnegan got to Ape first and dragged him to safety. Ape had a small blade in his hand and worked the cable free from around his ankles while the priest turned with his pistols and drew the dragon’s attention away.

Behind me, Peters, Anderson and Chuck watched in shock. It wasn’t an uncommon reaction when faced with the kind of creature your parents always told you didn’t exist – couldn’t exist – except in fairy tales. But it was a reaction they needed to overcome – and quickly – unless they wanted to become charcoaled briquettes.

“Holy shit,” Chuck managed to breathe.

“Yes, a fucking dragon,” I said, winding my way through the debris over to them. “It’s not like it’s a tyrannosaurus or some bullshit. You gonna stand around all day gawking or you wanna help me take this mother down?”

Ape had broken free of the bolo and regained his sword, stood beside Finnegan and faced down the dragon. The bodies of Brom’s children that lay scattered about and underfoot had begun to smoke from the bouts of flame, and a couple of them began to glow with a little fire of their own as the tattered rags they wore ignited.

I fed Grace some explosive rounds and snapped the barrel closed. Turned to the coppers and yelled, “Fire!”

With what little ammo remained, they began to fire in unison, shaking off their shock and shooting on the run. Glowing green boulders the size of watermelons hurled through the air from the shadows, smacked the beast in the jaw once, twice. I turned to see Nadia, her eyes and hands glowing, crouched behind one of the plate-like sections of wall, using it as a shield.

The dragon had his back to me, and liquid fire poured from his mouth in a stream like a flamethrower. Chuck and Anderson leapt to the side as the column of heat swept near them, missing the bout of fire by so small a margin their arm hairs had to have singed and curled into little crispy pubes.

I heard Peters cry out and saw her running, one of her sleeves and pant legs aflame. Before I could move, Finnegan was at her side, removing his jacket and using it to smother the flames.

To my left, I heard Glory bark, and a quick burst of rapid fire sparked against the dragon’s neck as Anderson fired from the hip.

The dragon spun on him and hissed like a vile cat, its eyes flaring brighter. Behind it, Peters pulled herself to her feet, grabbed a shotgun that was lying nearby, and screamed a barbarous roar, ignoring the pain, or perhaps using it to fuel her, as she pumped three rounds against the creature’s hide. Finnegan’s pistols barked beside her.

Anderson’s bullets riddled across the giant salamander head, a trail of sparks cutting up between its eyes and over the top of its head like a Mohawk.

“Come on!” Peters yelled, and Elensal turned its massive head to her. It purred like a cricket, and without warning, its tail struck her across the chest and threw her thirty feet in the air. She hit the side of a nearby building and slumped into a ball on the floor, landing atop the bloodied remnants of Brom’s children.

Elensal turned back to Anderson who ejected one spent magazine to chamber his last. Chuck stood next to him, pistols akimbo. They both looked terrified.

It pounced.

A taloned hand caught each in the chest and took them heavily to the ground. Glory flew from Anderson’s grip as his head slammed back against the bricks, and Chuck screamed in agony as the dragon’s claws tore into his flesh and pinned him to the earth.

I ran toward them, fished into my pocket, and pulled out an armor-piercing round. I didn’t go up against many armored foes; no doubt I’d grabbed it by accident when I pocketed my flares. It fit snuggly into Grace’s rifle barrel and I braced the stock against my shoulder. Aimed. Fired.

The bullet didn’t spark, and at first, I thought I’d missed it completely, but Elensal threw its head toward me and howled in wounded fury. The dragon lifted its paw from Anderson, and batted Chuck haphazardly into the Detective. Neither man moved as Elensal turned its full attention to me.

The mouth opened, and I could feel the furnace-heat of its breath as it inhaled deeply. Plumes of smoke ushered from its nostrils, and I rolled to the side in time to avoid the column of fire that spat past me.

As it took another deep breath, I heard Ape cry out and leap at the dragon, his sword robed in purple light.

I didn’t see if he connected. I saw light from behind me, suddenly caught the scent of frying bacon. I spun to see the slow simmer of flames crackling on the nearest of Brom’s children.

I turned back to Ape, saw him toe-to-toe with the dragon, sword pressed firmly against the beast’s talons.

The dragon roared and swung at Ape’s head. Silver-white light flashed and the foremost talon, as big as a ram’s horn, fell to the brick at Ape’s feet. It swung again and Ape shifted the angle of his sword, stabbed into its palm.

I dug in my pocket for another rifle shell, but there was nothing left but shotgun ammo. I took a knee, dumped my pockets onto the brick, and tore through the pile until I found a couple of Iron shells. I loaded them into Grace and pocketed a couple of bolo rounds as I stood.

Ape’s blade was still embedded into the dragon’s foot, and Elensal looked at Ape curiously. It sat back on its haunches, and with its other forearm, it swatted against Ape’s shoulder and head, sent him toppling. The sword pulled free and clattered to the ground as he tumbled.

Upright like that, I realized how big it was, and with its hands curled in front like a tyrannosaur, its wings flared out behind, and its head cocked to the side, it looked like a totem spirit carved on a pole.

“Hey!” I called.

It spun to me, slowly lowered itself to all fours. Took one step, then another. “I know who you are,” Elensal said, but it was Brom’s voice that issued from the beast’s mouth. “I have heard stories of the great Jonothan Swyftt,” it added in a mocking tone. “You think you can come into my home uninvited? You think you can challenge me because you put an end to lesser Korrigan? Because you stood against the grandchildren of Olmec? Because you survived the Sabnock?”

It laughed: a twisted, mirthless sound.

“Indeed, I know who you are, Jonothan Swyftt, and while some may have come to fear the sound of your name, you cannot intimidate me.” It took a step forward, clicked its fangs together. “I AM FEAR!” it bellowed, the voice deeper and heavier than the walls that shook around us with fury. “Even now, I feel it,” Brom said, his voice calm once more. “You are right to tremble before me. To fuel me.”

Elensal started gathering air, its eyes flickered brightly, and I knew I only had a moment to act before it fried me crispy. I raised Grace to a firing position and squeezed her twice, fired both shells into the eyes.

It was no more effective than pepper spray, but the attack gave me just enough time to change tactics. I unclipped Grace’s shoulder-stock and pulled the leather sheath free of the machete’s blade. Gripped the knife tightly in my fist and charged the dragon. Its eyes were closed, head bowed low and shook side to side, taloned hands pawed at its face.

With a whoop, I swung the blade just as Elensal opened an eye and buried it to the hilt in the soft, white tissue.

The dragon hissed, swung blindly at me with both forepaws as a thick, translucent, milky fluid oozed around the edge of the rusty blade. I dodged, but wasn’t expecting the tail. It hit me in the knees, knocked me on my arse.

Elensal lumbered closer, raised a clubbed hand.

I heard, “Jono! Over here.”

Nadia stood just outside the circle of child-fuckers, over half of them now aflame. She waved wildly at me, and I managed to roll onto my stomach, get my feet under me, and put a few yards distance between me and Brom’s dragon before the thing spotted me with its good eye and started to charge.

I had never run with the bulls in Spain, but replace bull with severely pissed Bogey in the body of a wounded Manticore and Spain with Underground Seattle, and that was my moment.

My eyes focused on Nadia who stood straight ahead, felt the dragon closing the distance.

“Get down!” she yelled, and I threw myself forward at her feet as her hands hurled discs of fiery, red light.

The creature side-stepped, and the discs hit the ground in an explosive scarlet glow, casting light on the broad, flat head, the eye that burned like a cinder, the hungry, gaping jaws.

I didn’t see her throw another, but the dragon’s right forepaw glowed red for an instant and stopped moving. We scrambled to the side as Elensal, running at full gallop, came down on its foreleg, tripped over its own lifeless limb, and tumbled end over end.

With some difficulty and frustration, it attempted to gain its feet, found one didn’t work. It let out a long, low moan that shook the room and made the dancing flames of the pyre tremble and waiver.

Elensal reeled back on its hind legs, flexed its mighty wings and beat them downward, once, twice, three times, until it hovered several feet in the air.

The dragon took off like a jet, came straight at us. Nadia and I fell on our stomachs, and it passed so low strands of my hair moved as it passed above.

Once the shadow passed, I rolled over and looked at Nadia. “How long does that last?” I asked. “That crippling leg trick?”