The Vengeful Dead (27 page)

Chapter 35

McManus had given Nick and Shelby the address. Five minutes. They were five minutes from the crash site when Nick felt Rosa come barreling back to the world of the living. Shelby confirmed it with a sharp gasp and a sideways glance at him while he wheeled the Porsche back and forth through city traffic.

“Shit,” she said. “I guess the threat didn’t work.”

Nick hit the steering wheel with the palm of his hand. “Call McManus. Warn him.”

A few seconds later, she shook her head. “Not answering.” She threw the phone up on the dash where it rattled around and then tumbled to the floor. “Damn it! Should’ve rode my bike.”

“Hold on,” Nick said through gritted teeth, sliding the Porsche around a corner through a red light and narrowly missing a pickup. Somewhere behind them, Nick could hear the wail of a siren. Someone did not appreciate his driving skills.

Just a couple more minutes and they would be there. A lot could happen in such a short period of time and he doubted, even with the heads-up, that McManus and Pernetti were ready to handle Rosa, not when she looked like an agent dead on her feet.

His fears were confirmed two minutes later, as he screeched to a halt in the middle of a two-lane residential street. The Durango was angled into a van parked at the curb. An FBI car was angled at nearly ninety degrees across the road, and two men moved sluggishly in the middle of the street. Half a dozen gawking bystanders milled around in the neighboring yards, half with cell phones aimed at the scene, the others texting madly. Shelby was out of the car before it came to a complete stop.

“Ah, fuck,” she said as she ran up to McManus and Pernetti.

Pernetti was not just struggling, he was writhing in pain, swearing up a storm. “She fucking shot me! The fucking bitch shot me.”

Nick realized there was blood on the street beneath them and a pair of handcuffs joined them. It became apparent that Pernetti had been shot in the foot. McManus just looked pissed.

“She got away,” he said. “I should’ve cuffed her. I need a phone. Got to call this in.”

Nick pulled his cell out while Shelby reached down and grabbed the cuffs in her hands and snapped the chain between them. Pernetti rolled away and grabbed his foot, groaning loudly. McManus made his call.

“What happened?” Nick closed his eyes to focus and turned until he got a sense of where Rosa was. “She’s heading north.”

“Fucking bitch shot me is what happened,” Pernetti yelled.

“Said she needed some air,” McManus said, “was going to puke. Pernetti let her out. I should’ve done it.” He turned his attention back to the phone. “Pernetti is down, sir. Yes. It’s Jack again, sir.”

Nick winced. This was not going to go well for her. “Where’s she heading?” They needed to get moving again quickly.

The siren sound swelled as the cop that had been chasing finally caught up. Pernetti kept his tirade going while Shelby tried to get his shoe off.

“Shut up and be still, you big, fucking baby,” she snapped, swatting his hands away from his injured foot.

McManus gave Belgerman an address as the cop came running up, hand on his holstered gun. “Officer,” Nick said, voice unruffled and smooth, “we need an ambulance here for this injured federal agent.”

The cop had been about to lay into him, until he saw Pernetti and the blood spattered on the pavement. “You need to . . . feds? Christ. I’ll get paramedics out here.”

Nick nodded. “Thank you. We’ll just be on our way now.”

The cop agreed. “Just get out of the way, sir.”

“Shel, leave it. No time.” He moved quickly back to the car.

Nick gunned the engine and honked, turning the car up onto a lawn to get around the parked cars.

“How far?” Shelby wondered.

“Couple minutes,” he said, blowing through a stop sign. “Gun’s in the glove box.”

“I’m not going to shoot her, Nick.” She reached in and took out the Beretta anyway.

“If we reach her before she gets to Rennie Vasquez, we take her down any way possible,” he said. He could not believe he was saying that. Last thing in the world he wanted to do was hurt Jackie.

“Nick, that’s nuts.”

“Rosa doesn’t care what happens to the body,” he said. “If Rennie Vasquez is armed, if he has friends who are, then she’s likely to get filled with so many holes before she gets to him that we’ll never save her.”

“She’s just as likely to shoot us as them,” Shelby added.

“I know.” Nick was not too worried about that possibility. A bullet or three would not be a big deal, as long as he avoided a head shot, which nobody else had seemed able to do up to this point. “We’ll have the feds there right behind us, too.”

“Fuck, Nick. This is going to be a mess.”

“A little luck and maybe Jackie will be able to do something from the inside when the time is right. I hope she’s aware enough to be watching.” He pulled sharply to the right, sliding on to the street McManus had given him. A light spatter of rain had begun to fall, making the streets slick and more difficult to handle. The houses were getting larger, older, and more rundown as they went down the street, Victorian homes with sagging porches, broken up into three or more apartments.

“There!” Shelby pointed.

“I see it,” Nick replied. A dark sedan was half off the street, sitting on top of a section of wrought iron fence. The door hung open.

Nick slid the Porsche to a stop behind the car and even before he got out, the air cracked with the sound of gunfire.

Voices were yelling inside. There were screams. Of the two doors leading in, one sat wide open. Nick stepped out at a run. Shelby was already crouched, gun drawn, creeping quickly up to the front steps. He approached with her, hugging her right side, turning his focus outward, searching for Rosa. Shelby stepped through the doorway, leading with the Beretta. It was a large, open foyer with stairs leading up and a hallway stretching toward the back of the house. An archway to the right led into a living room. A body, dark-haired, male, lay slumped off a couch, his upper body resting on a coffee table in a spreading pool of blood. His eyes stared at him, wide and unblinking, a neat, black circle in the center of his forehead.

Somewhere above, a male yelled in Spanish, followed by a short burst of gunfire. More yelling followed, different voices this time, and then thumping and scuffling of several people. Nick turned and leaped up the stairs four at a time.

Then an all-too-familiar voice rang down. “Think you can kill me, Rennie! Think bullets will keep me from gutting you like you did to me?”

Through the railing posts on the landing, Nick could see a struggle going on. Three pairs of legs jostling around. Then one set abruptly left the ground and the railing shattered next to his head. A male crashed into the wall of the stairwell, indenting the plaster before tumbling down in a shower of splintered wood. Shelby leaped straight up in the air, but a flailing leg cut across her ankle and sent her sprawling down on top of the guy. Nick reached up and grabbed the banister post at the top of the steps and swung himself around onto the landing.

Rosa was busy burying her fist into the other guy’s face, already a bright smear of blood. At their feet was Pernetti’s Glock and at the other end of the landing, a door flung open, banging against the bedroom wall. A man stood in the darkened entry, silhouetted against the light coming through the blinds on the opposite side of the room. His features were too shaded to make out clearly other than the wild whites of his eyes, but it didn’t matter. They were washed out by the sharp clarity of what he held in his hands, a pair of snub-nosed machine pistols.

“Jackie!” Nick had no weapon with which to respond, and despite Rosa’s recent claims to the contrary, bullets could keep her from gutting Rennie. The number of bullets about to fly in their direction would stop almost anyone, maybe even a vampire.

Nick summoned all his strength and sprinted down the hall.

Chapter 36

Nick!
Jackie’s concentration broke.

“Devil!” Rosa hissed at the same moment.

The distraction cost them. Something heavy and big snapped her view sideways, and Jackie caught the glimpse of a fist trailing away from her face. The Glock clattered to the floor.

Jackie! Come on! Now. Do it now
.

But Nick . . .

At the end of the hall, the sound of a door slamming open echoed in her ears. Off balance from the blow that would have knocked a normal person out, Rosa stumbled into the attacker at her back. She threw an elbow into his gut to push herself off and there at the end of the hall appeared the prize.

Dressed in a pair of black boxers and white t-shirt was a man much smaller than the others out in the hall. Wiry, with long, black hair whipped about down past his shoulders, like he had just woken up. The wide-eyed look had as much confusion as crazy in them, and in his hands were two, snub-nosed machine pistols.

Rosa raged. Her Glock was on the floor and there was her killer. Jackie watched her vision turn red, pulling up power from the other side. Rosa dropped for the gun.

At the same moment, Jackie felt the swelling of energy from behind. Nick was coming. “Jackie!”

Open the Mother-loving door, Jackie!

The machine pistols raised and the solid, flying figure of Nick brushed past, arms outstretched. Apparently, Rennie Vasquez did not care that his own friends were standing in the hall. He was prepared to take everyone down.

Jackie reached out for the other side as the first burst of the pistols went off. Rosa picked up the Glock, Nick’s body providing a shield from the initial spray of bullets. Once again he was putting himself in the line of fire to save her.

Damn it, Nick. You’re going to get yourself killed.

Laurel pushed at her.
Jackie, open it in the doorway. Now!

Jackie pushed open the way to Deadworld, and the wind howled at them through the bedroom doorway. It drew Rosa’s attention immediately.

“What are you doing?” she screamed.

Plaster erupted from the wall, inches from her face. Rosa made an instinctual duck away from the danger or perhaps it was her own effort to not get shot, and ducked toward the bedroom doorway. For the first time in more days than she could remember, luck smiled down upon Jackie. Rosa had stepped directly into the Deadworld door.

Jackie! Hold on to your body,
said Laurel.

She felt as though she were flailing, poised on the top of a cliff, whirling her arms to keep from toppling over, until Laurel’s hands clasped around hers and guided them, helping her hold on to and reinforce that bond between her spirit and body. She could see it now, that soft, glowing energetic force, twisted strands bound together, which she could now simply pull apart.

Rosa staggered away from the door, frantically trying to keep a grip on Jackie. Her hands pulled at those same strands, but Jackie and Laurel had the benefit of more pull in their direction. Rosa was keeping herself in the living world. It was not her place and the open door pulled at her as well. And when Rosa’s fingers slipped free at last, Jackie found herself filling up her body once again, with the unnerving, woodpecker
pop-pop-pop
of the machine pistols in her ear. Nick was on top of Rennie, sending them back into the bedroom at the end of the hall.

Jackie called out
Nick!
But her voice was dragged away by the bitter wind of Deadworld. It dug into her bones with frozen claws and a moment later the doorway closed upon the world of the living.

Rosa’s!
Laurel yelled from within her head.

Jackie barely had time to acclimate herself to Deadworld before she closed her eyes and focused on Rosa’s. No front yard this time. Straight to the master bedroom and a screaming, bloody mess of a baby. She would have three seconds, if she was lucky, to make it work before Rosa came stampeding back to keep her away.

Imagining Rosa’s room was not difficult. The image still burned in her mind from the first time, with the babe’s scream piercing her skull, the metallic, nauseating smell, and a mattress soaked with an unconscionable amount of blood. It took a second, perhaps two, as moving her physical body in Deadworld required more effort, and it might have been longer without Laurel’s extra push. Rosa’s voice followed almost immediately.

“Get away from him!”

Jackie felt the door opening. Rosa was coming through. No time to think or prepare, only time to act. She leaped across the bed, just beyond Rosa’s grasping reach, landing on her elbows right over Rosa’s baby. His scream was barely louder than a normal speaking voice, with eyes scrunched closed and tiny little hands curled loosely into fists. His fragile, doll-sized body was smeared with the dark stains of blood.

Part of Jackie, a large part really, desired nothing more than to cringe away from it, put up her hands and shy away. The thing was alien. More significantly, Jackie had no clue what to do once she picked him up. How did you hold it? What did she say? How did you invite a spirit in who could not even speak? This plan, if one could have called it such, had not been thought through. Regardless, Jackie took the only possible course left to her. She scooped her arms beneath the listless body, cradled it to her chest, and rolled off the opposite side of the bed. Jackie landed on her back with a soft thump.

Rosa was on top of her a split second later. She straddled over Jackie, hands hooked around her wrists. Jackie had never seen a face contorted with so much rage in her life. It was misshapen, turned and curved at wrong angles, and the snarl of her lips seemed to stretch halfway around her face. “Give him to me!”

From within, Laurel fed Jackie extra power to hold Rosa off. Her voice was soft, cooing.
It’s OK, sweetie. It’s going to be all right. We’ll keep you safe. You can come in and be safe.

“He’s mine, you bitch!” Rosa yanked over and over, bouncing Jackie against the floor.

“You’re going to kill him, Rosa! Is that what you want? He’s going to be gone. Forever!” She was losing the battle. This could only go on for so long before she lacked the strength to keep her arms locked around her chest. And Rosa had passed listening to reason long ago.

Jackie looked down at her chest, at the baseball sized head pressed to her shirt. His mouth formed a tiny
O,
reaching out, wanting, yearning.
Dear God, you poor, little guy. You don’t want vengeance. You just want to crawl right back into mother’s womb, don’t you ?

Yes!
Laurel said.
That’s what he needs. Invite him in, Jackie. Be his mother.

But I’m not.

Pretend, you nit! Or Rosa is going to drain him to nothingness.

The decision was made for her as Rosa began to peel one of her hands away from her body. “Give . . . him . . . to me.”

Was it her imagination or had the baby begun to fade?
Christ! OK, little guy. Come on in. Be with me and I’ll keep you safe. It’s warm and safe inside. No more cold . . . just . . . come on, sweetie. Please! You don’t need to go out this way.

The babe’s crying stopped and he slowly sank into Jackie’s body. Laurel gave a triumphant shout. Rosa let go of Jackie’s arms and sat back with a thud on the floor, scrambling back with her hands and feet, eyes wide in shock. Her mouth hung slack in horror.

Rosa pointed at her, hand trembling. “What have you done? What have you done to my baby?”

Jackie gritted her teeth. Safely within the protection of her body, the baby had settled precisely where she had offered. Though her physical body looked unchanged, her entire midsection now felt distended and stretched. “Damn, Laur!” She moaned, placing her hands on top of the still and quiet form. Her entire midsection felt as though it was going to tear apart.

Well,
was all Laurel could say. A radiating warmth emerged from her, enveloping Jackie in a soothing glow.
This should help. Mother of us all, hon. Look at that. Look what you’ve done.

Rosa sat back on her heels at Jackie’s feet, fists balled up, poised to attack, but tears were running down her cheeks. “What have you done?” she asked once more, but the anger had clearly dissipated. “Give him back.”

Jackie pushed herself up and tried to scoot back toward the wall. It hurt like a sonofabitch, but she was still filled with a sense of awe. How could something like this happen? She looked up to Rosa, heart clenching at the look of sorrow and defeat on her face. She reached out to her.

“Rosa,” she said. “You see? He never wanted revenge. He just—”

“Give him back!” Rosa wailed and scrambled forward until she was upon Jackie again, fingers clawing at her stomach. “Give me back my baby!”

Rosa was significantly weaker now that she no longer had her baby to draw upon. Jackie grabbed her wrists and rolled over until she was on top, pinning Rosa to the floor, who continued to squirm and buck to get free.

Only now her voice did not hold rage so much as despair and fear. “Don’t take my baby! He needs revenge.”

Jackie leaned in close, until Rosa’s wild eyes finally locked on to hers. “No, Rosa. You need revenge. Your boy just needs you.” She pulled Rosa’s arms up and pushed her hands against her stomach. “See? No more crying. He just wanted to feel safe and secure and you nearly destroyed him. This madness ends now. Do you understand?” Jackie pushed Rosa’s hands away. “Do you?”

The tension in Rosa’s body melted away. “Please. I just want my baby.”

“I don’t trust you, Rosa.” Jackie sat up straight and stared down at the broken woman. She wondered though.
Laur, will you be able to keep them with me if I take Rosa in, too?

What do you mean? Why?

I’m going to invite Rosa in, but I don’t know how long I’ll be able to stay awake once I cross back over.

Maybe? I think so.

It would have to do. “Rosa? You can join him if you wish. You can be with him. Maybe it’s time you put this behind you and moved on. I’ll get your justice. Rennie will be put away for the rest of his life.”

Rosa’s shoulders slumped. “He deserves to die.”

“And he probably will,” she replied, “but it will be through the laws of Illinois. No more innocent people will die, Rosa. I’m going back to the living world. If you want to be with your boy, come with me, but you must swear upon your boy’s . . . soul, that you will make no attempt to take me over. If you do, my partner, who is with me now, will see to it that you never see him again.”

Jackie? I can’t do that. It’s—

It’s an empty threat. Don’t worry.

Rosa nodded. “Promise me he will pay?”

“I guarantee it, Rosa.” She let go of Rosa’s wrists and took her hands. “Come and be with your boy. He still needs you.”

Her fingers clenched Jackie’s clasping tightly and Jackie opened herself to Rosa, inviting her in. “I’m sorry,” Rosa whispered, and her form faded gradually away to nothing. Within her body, Rosa’s arms curled themselves around her babe and the cramping pain within her abdomen receded to a tolerable, dull ache.

You did great,
Laurel whispered.
Incredible, hon.

“Yeah, well,” Jackie said, reeling from the fact she had three people’s spirits residing within her body. “Let’s hope they move on soon. I feel stuffed to the gills.”

Laurel laughed.
Practice for later.

“God, don’t even go there.” Jackie sat up and groaned. She was swollen and chilled with the aching cold of the dead. She would kill for fifteen minutes in Nick’s steam bath. “Oh, hell. Nick! We’ve got to get back.”