Damoren (22 page)

Matt followed Allan
’s gaze. A dark box truck sat parked one earthen tier below the structure.

“
That looks like the truck from the video,” Luiza said quietly. “The one they moved Selene in.”

“
Yeah,” Malcolm said, scanning the area. “But where is everyone?”

“
Inside?” Kazuo said.

“
Maybe.” Malcolm’s eyes narrowed. “This doesn’t look right to me.”

“
Last two pulses came from that same spot,” Allan said, turning off his screen. “We need to go down there.”

“
Matt, you got anything in that bottle of yours?” Malcolm asked.

Matt pulled the plastic bottle out held it against the pale backdrop of the clay mound.
He shook his head. “Nothing.”

“
What’s the range on that?”

“
Hundred yards in the open. As little as fifty feet if there’s a lot of stuff in the way.”

“
There,” Luiza hissed. She pointed to a dark shape moving around the building. It looked like a person, but Matt couldn’t tell much beyond than that in the dark. The figure walked down the earthen slope to the truck and opened the passenger door.

A few seconds later
, the figure came back out. A yellow light flared as it lit a cigarette. After a few puffs, it turned and started back up toward the building.

“
Do you think they got the adze?” Kazuo asked.

“
No,” Luiza answered. “If they were going to take it they’d have done that when they got here.”

“
We’ll just hold here until the next signal,” Allan said.

Malcolm nodded in agreement.

Allan shuffled on the rocky pile, causing a miniature avalanche of pebbles as he crouched to check his phone. He froze. Matt looked back at the smoker, but it didn’t appear to have heard him. Once it reached the building, it took a final drag and then flicked the orange-embered butt out into the basin. Light spilled out as he opened a door. He wore black robes, just like the ones videoed in Spain. The dark-haired man looked human enough, but Matt knew that didn’t really mean much.

“
I didn’t see it on him,” Luiza said.

After two very long minutes, Allan said,
“There. It’s still in the truck.” He flipped off the phone’s bright screen.

“
Good.” Malcolm turned to the others. “All right we don’t know if that guy has more friends coming, and I want to secure the adze before they do. Luiza, you and Allan follow me. Once we reach that slope just right of the truck, you two hold there. Matt, you follow behind us. Kazuo, stay with him. Keep your eyes up on that building. Hold position down there.” He pointed to a dingy bulldozer parked fifty feet to the left of the truck. “If that compass of yours goes off, signal us.”

“
What about the others?” Allan asked. He brushed his wet hair back with his hand.

“
Once we have the weapon, we’ll wait for them before going into that building.” He pressed the radio button at his shoulder. “Jean, where are you?”

“
We are headed through the employee entrance now,” Jean’s voice crackled.

“
Can you see the main building yet?”

“
Yes,” Jean answered.

“
We believe the weapon is in a truck parked just below it,” Malcolm said. “We’re going in to investigate, then wait for you to join. The building is occupied, so be careful.”

“
Affirmative.”

“
Okay then.” Malcolm stood. “Follow me.”

Staying low, the hunters hurried along the gravel path.
The slung Ingram bounced softly, clacking against Matt’s body armor with each step. He paced himself alongside Kazuo, allowing the others to move on ahead. The faint drizzle had soaked his hair, and cold rivulets of water ran down the back of his neck. Matt watched the blocky building but saw nothing. He stopped behind a low berm of white clay and checked the blood compass. Still nothing.

Movement flickered in the corner of his eye.
Matt turned toward a towering rock crusher off to one side, silhouetted against the night sky. A sloped conveyer belt ran toward the top. He searched the dark shape but it remained still. He checked the compass again, but there was no movement.

“
Come,” Kazuo whispered. “We’re almost there.”

They made their way down the slope, then raced across a short open expanse until they reached the giant dozer.
Matt knelt beside the metal tracks. Wetness from the muddy ground wicked up his pants’ leg.

He leaned out for a better view.
The other hunters had almost reached the final slope. He checked the building. It remained still. He turned toward the rock crusher beside them, but saw nothing.
Why leave it in the truck?

The other hunters reached the slope.
Allan and Luiza crouched low into the shadows, their swords drawn. Malcolm looked toward Kazuo and Matt. Matt checked the compass and waved him on.

Hugging the shadows, Malcolm followed the tiered wall around below the mining building.
He dashed through an open area to the box truck and pressed against the side. Matt watched, his heart thumping as Malcolm circled around the back of the vehicle and reached for the rear door. He checked the compass again.

Two- no, three beads formed inside the bottle; one ahead and two off to the right.
They were closing in fast. A trap.

Matt waved his hand out, trying to signal the hunter.
“Malcolm!” he hissed.

Malcolm didn
’t appear to hear. He reached for the rear door latch.

Matt depressed the radio button.
“Ma—”

Malcolm opened the truck
’s door and an alarm shrieked, piercing the night.

Blinding lights flipped on atop the ridge, shining down into the
white basin. Orange flashes of gunfire erupted from beneath the lights, spraying bullets through the box truck below.

Shit!
Matt pulled back behind the bulldozer’s treads.

A spotlight flicked on atop the crusher to his left, bathing them in light.
Metal
tinged
around him as shots rained down. White plumes exploded as bullets hit the rocks, spraying broken dust. “Kazuo, move!” Matt yelled, diving around the corner of the vehicle, between it and a parked power shovel. Clutching Dämoren, he scooted between the vehicles, trying to keep low.

Another burst of
tings
hit near his head and Matt dropped to the ground. He looked back and his eyes widened. Kazuo lay face down on the muddy gravel. Blood streamed from a hole behind his ear.

“
No!” Matt dove out, momentarily exposing himself to the shooter above, and grabbed the small knight by the shirt. Bullets whizzed around him,
plinking
off steel and rock. One hit Kazuo in the hip, but the fallen knight didn’t react. Matt yanked Kazuo back behind the cover of the vehicle.

“
Kazuo!” Matt yelled rolling him over. He recoiled in horror. The bullet had exited under Kazuo’s eye, taking half his face with it. There was no question. Kazuo was dead.

Shots rang out behind him.
“Mal!” Luiza screamed.

Matt couldn
’t see them from his position, not while the shooter had him pinned. Kazuo’s killer. Anger welling, Matt slithered alongside the vehicle then carefully peeked over the top. Expecting a bullet any second, he searched the crusher, but couldn’t see past the bright light atop it. Orange flashed like fiery flowers and Matt jerked down as more shots zinged past. Taking the slung Ingram, he dove to the side of the vehicle and leaned out. He fired a burst up at the light and it exploded. Squinting, he saw movement. A dog-headed man stood atop the conveyer belt holding some kind of assault rifle. Matt fired the Ingram and ducked away as the creature shot back.

Demons with machineguns
, he thought.
Great.
He let go of the Ingram, took Dämoren in both hands, then popped back out. The demon hadn’t moved. Matt fired.

The demon slumped, nearly losing the rifle, but leaned on the rail and fired back.
The shots went far and to the right. Matt fired again and the creature fell. Golden fire quickly consumed it.

More shots echoed behind him.
Luiza and Allan.
Matt started toward them. Kazuo’s half-face stared up at him, and Matt tried not to look at it. He noticed a curved shape in the wetted clay beside Kazuo’s body.

Akumanokira.

Matt froze for a moment, unsure what to do. He couldn’t just leave it there.

Matt holstered Dämoren and knelt beside the dead knight.
He picked the katana up by the copper grip and squeezed. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, not sure if he was speaking to Kazuo or the sword. He pulled the metal scabbard out from Kazuo’s belt and slid the katana inside. A tiny latch clicked, locking it closed. “I’ll take care of it, for you.”

“
Jean!” Malcolm’s voice called over the radio. Matt could hear the shots firing behind him through the ear bud as well. “It’s a trap. We’re pinned down.”

“
We’re coming,” Jean replied.

Matt crawled out from behind the bulldozer and stole a glance.
Allan and Luiza laid flat on the ground behind a low pile of earth, bullet strikes puffing all around them. Matt leaned out further. The box truck’s rear door still hung open. Fingers of light shone down from the roof, cast through the dozens of bullet holes riddling the truck. Malcolm lay flat on the ground directly beneath the bed, staring back at him. Shooters fired down from the ridge above hidden behind the blinding light.

Allan gave Matt a nod, then leaned out from his cover, clutching his tiny Walther pistol and fired several shots. The brilliant light atop the ridge burst and faded.

Four shooters, three of them werewolves, returned fire. Allan hunkered down under the onslaught. Matt fired Dämoren at the first one. It fell dead and the others scattered for cover. Red flame ignited over the fallen werewolf’s corpse.

A bullet whizzed past
. Matt looked back to see more figures running along one of the other slopes. They’d have him trapped for sure. Clutching the katana in one hand and Dämoren in the other, he sprinted out from behind the shovel and headed to a scooped out pit he could use like a foxhole. He weaved as he ran, trying to elude any shooters, bullets striking around him. He’d gotten within fifteen feet of the hole then dashed straight for it. In that moment, he knew his mistake.

A round hit him in the side,
spinning him about. Stumbling, he kicked his feet, directing his fall into the pit as more shots flew past. Milky water filled the bottom of the hole, and he hit with a splash, dropping the sword but holding Dämoren tight.

His side burned.
Keeping low, Matt twisted to see the damage. The bullet had hit his vest, but the armor couldn’t stop a rifle round. Blood poured freely from under it. He pressed his hand over the hole in the hard vest but it did little to stanch the flow.

The wound was bad.
Very bad.

Somewhere above
, a werewolf howled, followed by another.

“
Matt!”

He
swallowed and tried to pull himself deeper into the foxhole. Clouds of red blood swirled around him. They gathered in crimson pools at the water’s edges, pointing toward the circling demons.

“
Matt!” Malcolm’s voice screamed in his ear.

Matt fumbled with the radio button.
“Kazuo’s down,” was all he could say.

Matt
’s eyes felt heavy. He was dead if he didn’t get to demon’s blood. The shooters had them pinned in. Luiza, Allan, Malcolm. They’d all die.

Dämoren would die.

Clay’s voice echoed in his mind. “Dämoren chose you. She
wanted
you to live.
I
want you to live.”

He couldn
’t let her die. He had to live. The weapons
had
to survive.

Matt
opened his eyes. Shots echoed from the direction of the building. Carefully, he looked over the side of the hole. The shooters were hunkered down behind a line of metal crates, firing down on Luiza and Allan. He could see their barrels, but didn’t have a shot.

Matt lifted the Ingram and fired, emptying the magazine in
a loud burst. The shooters hunkered down, but didn’t flee. He needed to get them out. Out where he could kill them.

H
e had an idea.

He pulled the glass shaker bottle from his belt and stood on his knees, hurling it overhand toward the crates.
The bottle flipped end over end, sailing over the truck hiding Malcolm, and out over the ridge above. Matt cocked Dämoren’s hammer and fired.

The jar exploded
, raining powder over the boxes. Sparks flew and sizzled as two brown werewolves and a pale-skinned vampire leapt out, their skin smoking and blistering as silver and garlic dust ignited at their touch. Matt locked his elbow, gripped Dämoren tight, held down the trigger and fanned the hammer.