Dark War (2 page)

  She recognized my hesitation for what it was, and she reached out to squeeze my arm in a familiar gesture of reassurance. I can't feel touch, but I can feel pressure, so she always makes sure to squeeze hard.

  "Don't worry, Matt. I'll be OK." Her tone was confident, but I could see a trace of worry in her eyes, and I knew she was having similar thoughts, even if she'd never admit to it. But she didn't have to. Our telepathic link told me the truth. 

  I told myself that she was a fully capable adult who'd proven on numerous occasions that she could handle herself in dangerous situations. And we'd known this was going to be a risky mission when we'd agreed to accompany Darius. Still, it's not an easy thing to see the woman you love walk into battle – especially when she's carrying your child. 

  I was about to lie and tell her I knew she was going to be OK, when a rustling noise sounded behind us in the alley. The three of us turned to look and saw a hulking female Hyde like those rioting out in the street. The same bestial aspect and mismatched limbs, the same madness gleaming in her eyes, but there was one important difference: this creature had no skin.

  "What do we have here?" she said in a guttural voice. Her red wet facial muscles pulled her mouth into a leering smile, the better to display her mouthful of sharp, jagged teeth. "You three need to join the party."

  She leaned forward and I thought at first she was going to attack us, but instead she opened her mouth wide and breathed on us. Devona and Darius immediately started gagging, and I knew that the Hyde's breath must've been truly horrendous. Fortunately, the stench had no effect on me. Sometimes there are advantages to being dead, such as no functioning sense of smell.

  The Hyde straightened and watched us for a moment, almost as if she were waiting for something to happen. When nothing did, she scowled. 

  "What's wrong? Why haven't you changed?"

  "Well, Glassine, I'm a zombie, so I only breathe in order to take in enough air to speak. Since no air exchange occurs within my lungs, I can't be infected by the plague you're carrying. And as for my companions, they were each inoculated against your disease before we left home."

  Glassine's scowl deepened. "How do you know my name?"

  "We have a Glassine back where I come from. Her ancestor was a scientist who invented a formula for invisibility. Unfortunately, when she tried to use the formula on herself, it only made her skin transparent. Looks like the same thing happened to you in this dimension too."

  Glassine leaned forward, her eyes narrowing as she got a better look at me.
  "Do I know you?"
  "One of me, maybe."

  I reached inside one of jacket pockets and brought out a gun. It wasn't my 9mm – I carry that on a shoulder holster hidden by my jacket – and it wasn't my squirt gun, which I keep filled with a combination of holy water, garlic juice, liquid wolfsbane, and a few other special ingredients. This was a gleaming chrome device that looked more like a piece of medical equipment than a weapon. Fortunately for me, it was both. I squeezed the trigger and a burst of yellow gas struck Glassine in the face. She pulled back, coughing.

  "What – the hell – was that?" she demanded between coughs.
  "A cure for what ails you," I said.

  Glassine's coughing gave way to harsh gagging, and she clawed at her throat, desperate to catch a breath. Her eyes bulged wildly, and for an instant I feared that the chemical I'd dosed her with had poisoned her – perhaps due to some unanticipated physiological differences between denizens of this Nekropolis and mine – but a moment later her breathing eased and a transformation began to sweep over her body. Her skin remained transparent, which was a natural state for her, but her body became symmetrical again – arms and legs properly proportioned and the same length – her claws became fingernails, and her teeth receded into her gums, becoming less sharp. Her wild tangle of hair smoothed out, her pronounced brow became less so, and best of all, the feral gleam in her eyes faded, to be replaced by confusion.

  Glassine, normal once more – or at least looking
her
version of normal – took in the three of us, and while I saw recognition in her eyes, it didn't drive out the confusion.

  "Matt? Devona? Is that you?" Her voice, though no longer guttural, was a bit raspy. The after-effect of all that coughing, I supposed. "You both look so different."

  "I hate to do this, Glassine, but I really don't have a choice." I stepped forward, shifted my gas gun to my left hand, balled my right hand into a fist, and struck Glassine a solid blow to the jaw. Her eyes rolled white, her body went limp, and she started to collapse. Devona darted forward lightning-fast and caught the transparent woman before she could fall and lowered her gently to the ground.

  Devona scowled at me as she straightened. "Did you have to hit her so hard?"

  "I had to make sure she went down before she could be re-infected." As if to illustrate my words, Glassine's body convulsed and she began to change back to her bestial state. Thankfully, she remained unconscious once the transformation was complete. I had no idea how long she'd stay that way, though.

  "Damn, that was fast!" Devona said. She turned to Darius. "You weren't exaggerating when you told us how contagious the Hyde plague was." 

  I scowled as a thought occurred to me. "If it's so contagious," I said to Darius, "how did you avoid getting infected the last time you were here?" 

  He smiled. "Who said I did? But I've picked up a lot of interesting… souvenirs during my travels between Nekropolises… Nekropoli? A universal antidote was one of them. Unfortunately, I used my final dose during my last trip here to counteract the transformation just as it started to take hold of me. If it wasn't for Bennie's inoculation, I'd look like her right now." He nodded to Glassine.

  "At least she's out of action for the time being," I said. "With any luck, she'll stay unconscious until it's all over."

  "We can't just leave her here," Devona said. "If one of the others finds her like this, she'll be easy prey." 

  "We don't have time to move her," I pointed out. "The longer we stand here talking, the greater the chance that another of the Hydes will discover us. And even if we did have time, where could we take her? The moment we leave the alley, we'll be spotted."

  "I suppose you're right," Devona said, but she didn't sound happy about it. I didn't blame her. I didn't like the idea of leaving the unconscious Glassine behind either, even if she was currently a Hyde. But we really didn't have a choice, not if we wanted to do what we'd come here for –
and
survive long enough to go home. It was possible that Glassine might fall victim to one or more of the other Hydes before we could fix things, and after seeing the savage creatures rioting out in the street, I had a pretty good idea of the unpleasant things that would happen to her if she were discovered. But there was nothing we could do about that except work as fast as we could and hope it would be enough. Leaving Glassine like this would be hard, but I had a bad feeling it would only be the first of a number of tough choices we'd be forced to make before this was over.

  I tucked away my gas gun and withdrew several plastic-coated yellow spheres the size of ping-pong balls from my jacket pocket. Devona and Darius also took out handfuls of spheres, though where Devona had been keeping hers, given how tight her leather outfit was, remained a mystery to me. The three of us walked to the mouth of the alley, a single sphere held in each of our right hands, ready to throw, the rest clasped tight in our left hands. 

  We then stepped onto the sidewalk and into Hell.

 
 

 
 

We tossed the first grenades underarm into the street, aiming at the Hydes closest to us. As soon as the spheres struck, they burst open, releasing yellow clouds of antidote gas, and every creature within range sucked in lungfuls of the stuff and began hacking. We didn't wait for the gas to take effect. As soon as the first wave of grenades detonated, we ran into the street and threw the next batch ahead of us to clear the way. We continued hurling grenades as we went, and within moments the homicidal chaos that had reigned in Sybarite Street gave way to mass confusion as clouds of yellow gas filled the air and dozens of the Hydes began to revert to their original forms. It wouldn't last – witness how long it had taken Glassine to become re-infected – but our goal wasn't to effect a permanent cure, at least not yet. Our goal was to create enough of a distraction so that we could cross the street and reach the
House of Dark Delights
, preferably without getting any limbs torn out of their sockets.

  I've done a lot of difficult things during my time in Nekropolis, but crossing that dimension's version of Sybarite Street was one of the hardest. As soon as one of the Hydes reverted to his or her natural form, any unchanged creature close to them attacked, and the air was filled with the sounds of their screaming as they tried to escape and failed. It took everything I had to ignore their cries of agony and terror and force myself to keep running, and from the pained look on Devona's face, I knew she felt the same. I told myself that we were doing what we had to do, and maybe that was true, but it sure as hell didn't make it any easier. 

  We were two-thirds of the way across the street when a Hyde behind the wheel of an Agony DeLite aimed his vehicle at us and tromped on the accelerator. Agony DeLites are flesh-tech, formed from the bodies of a dozen sadomasochists. The vehicles run on pain, and the harder their drivers abuse them, the faster they go. I don't know what the Hyde inside the vehicle was doing to motivate his car, but it screamed in pleasure as it came toward us, hands and feet scrabbling for purchase on the asphalt. A glance showed me that the driver had the windows up, not that it mattered. Even if he got a dose of antidote and began to change back to normal, it wouldn't be in time for him to stop the car. I wasn't worried about Devona; I knew she could leap out of the way in time, but Darius and I were a good deal slower. Darius
might
be able to avoid being hit, but I'd end up zombie roadkill for sure. I'd survive the impact, but I'd sustain so many broken bones, I'd end up as little more than a rattling skin bag – zombie maracas. I figured I'd better do something to avoid that, seeing as how it would make saving this dimension's Nekropolis a bit harder.

  I still had a couple gas grenades in my left hand, so I reached into my pants pocket with my right and pulled out an ancient coin. This was one of Charon's coins, paid to the ferryman as a fee for passage to the Land of the Dead. In my case, its magic had allowed me to purchase twenty-four hours as a living man. I'd used it, so its magic was gone, or at least that one aspect of its magic was gone. But that didn't mean the coin was without power. Magic items are funny. Some work like batteries: once their juice is used up, they're worthless. Others – especially objects of significant power – are more complicated. If you follow the instructions carefully and take the proper precautions, they'll work for you. But if you screw anything up, or if you get greedy and try to use them one more time than you should, they'll turn around and bite you on the ass in spectacularly awful ways. I was counting on the coin being the latter type of object. If I was wrong… well, I hoped Devona and Darius wouldn't mind carting around an undead bag of bone shards for a while.

  I flipped the coin at the Agony DeLite. It spun end over end through the air, struck the vehicle on its fleshy hood, and bounced off. But that brief contact was enough for the coin's magic to take effect. The vehicle's nearly orgasmic shrieks became pained gasps, and its skin went from a healthy pink to a sickly gray-green. It lost speed and began wobbling back and forth, its discolored flesh growing hard and leathery, its windshield clouding over, as if it were a huge cyclopean eye covered by a thick, milky cataract. The car wheezed, veered off to the right, and stumbled by without hitting any of us. It struck a street lamp made from a large spinal column and curving rib bones, shattering it. The impact brought the vehicle to a sudden halt, and with a rattling cough the engine – hell, the whole damned car – died.

  The driver's door flew open and the operator of the vehicle climbed out, looking mad as hell and no worse for the collision with the street lamp. The Hyde started toward us, fangs bared, claws outstretched, ready to inflict some serious damage on the person responsible for spoiling his fun. But he didn't get five steps from the dead Agony DeLite – which was suffering from an advanced state of decay, its flesh liquefying and beginning to slide off its skeletal chassis – when his own flesh began to take on a gray cast and his breathing became labored. He made it two more steps before his face contorted in a grimace and he clutched his chest. A second later he collapsed to the ground, as dead as his vehicle.

  I'd hope that the coin's death energy would affect the vehicle, though I hadn't expected the effect to be quite so dramatic. But I hadn't realized the coin's magic might also affect the driver, whose bare hands had no doubt been gripping the steering wheel when the coin struck the Agony DeLite. As we watched, the creature returned to his natural form in death, revealing his true self to be a youthful-appearing vampire that I didn't recognize. I knew the vampire hadn't exactly been an innocent bystander – I'd lived in Nekropolis too long to believe any of its citizens are completely innocent – but he'd attacked us only because the Hyde plague had transformed him into a maniacally murderous beast. And without meaning to, I'd killed him. I half-expected him to open his eyes and sit up – after all, he
was
a vampire – but he remained motionless. I guess a coin imbued with powerful death magic is just as effective as a wooden stake for his kind.