DarkWalker (28 page)

Nick shivered at the comment.

“The main thing,” Jack said, “is the imp. The scrawny thing that was more teeth than face, the creature that attacked Lisa.”

“I went after it,” Nick reminded him, “but couldn’t find it.”

“It’s responsible for all this,” Jack said. “When it dies, I go back to normal.”

“Normal?” Nick asked.

“Untouchable,” Jack said. “A
DarkWalker
again.”

“
You
have to kill it?” Nick asked.

“I don’t think so.”

“And what about the rest of us?” Nick asked.

“What do you mean?”

“You go back to normal,” Nick said, “and this whole battlefield . . . because that’s what it will be, before long . . . everything on this battlefield will ignore you. Who do you think they’ll go after?”

Jack didn’t respond.

“Me,” Nick said. “Out of frustration if nothing else.” He’d have to fight, hope his ammo lasted, until they stopped coming. Or flee. His truck was close, full of gas, easily accessible—provided he had time. The vampire, of course, he wasn’t worried about, though he expected to get a chance to kill her before the night was done. But for the moment, the bitch might be useful—if Jack’s trust was well-placed.

“You can go,” Jack said. “I won’t ask you to risk your life. I’ve got what I need.”

Nick turned, catching movement in his periphery. “Too late.”

3.

The man walking toward them stood a little less than six feet tall, slightly overweight, military cut hair. But his skin matched his clothes: green, with maybe a tint of yellow and brown, and oozing sores. He walked slowly, unconcerned with time or speed. Jack stared a moment; he’d never seen anything like it, but knew its name. “Bogey.”

“Behind you,”
Jia
Li said.

Jack turned, just as she moved to intercept a rushing attack. She caught the attacker’s arm as it came forward, shifted slightly, and flipped the thing onto its back.

Nick shot twice.

“Another zombie,” Jack said.

It struggled, reaching for Jack despite the vampire on top of it.

Jia
Li slashed its throat with her fingernails. Black juice dribbled from the wound as its head slid back, yet it continued writhing.

“Sever it,” Jack said.

Jia
Li nodded, then pushed her hand through the zombie’s throat. Its limbs fell, and she tossed the head aside.

From above, arms grabbed Jack by the shoulders. Two female creatures had swooped down. No taller than their wingspan, three feet at most, but they were strong. Their skin had the look and feel of bark. Before Jack could say anything, they’d taken him off the ground.

Jia
Li jumped, slashing a wing as she caught a head. She clung to it, swinging downwards as the creature lost height.

Nick shot the other in the back of the head. It screeched, losing hold of Jack. The last creature launched herself into the air, leaving Jack,
Jia
Li, and the other to drop.

They landed hard, everyone on top of Jack.

Jia
Li ripped the head from the last one’s neck and threw it at the retreating creature.

“Harpies,” Jack said, pushing himself to his feet. “Watch the sky.”

For a brief moment, nothing seemed to move. But Jack knew this wasn’t true; in the surrounding rooftops, creatures vied for the best “seats”, night things that did not come after him. A shroud had been cast over the battlefield, an unnatural darkness, perhaps to hide them from mortal eyes, perhaps to aid or distract them, perhaps merely to set the stage.

“What if it doesn’t come?” Jack wondered aloud. “What if it’s content to just sit there and watch?”

Nick, seeing the arrivals that were not engaging, came closer. “What, do they think it’s a show?”

“There’s been talk,”
Jia
Li said. “You might not hear it, but it floats on the dark. A watcher who can no longer watch. It’s a rare event.”

“But they won’t attack?” Jack asked.

“I don’t attack,”
Jia
Li said. “And neither does your hunter friend.”

Nick glared at her, but said nothing.

“It’s a compulsion, an urge,” she said. “Have you ever felt an urge, maybe to kiss a woman you’ve never met before, that you ignored? Or at least forestalled?”

“Are you saying they’re waiting?” Jack asked.

“What I’m saying is, they have free will. As do I. I didn’t, don’t, and won’t kill you, because I choose not to, despite the desire. But it’s there, and it’s strong, and not everyone—not everything—has the capacity to resist such urges.”

“The imp?” Jack asked.

Jia
Li shrugged. “I don’t know imps.”

“Damn.” Jack looked at the buildings in the other direction, upon which others had taken a temporary perch. “This isn’t going to work.”

An arm broke out of the ground and grabbed his foot. He tumbled as the mottled hand yanked, trying to drag him into the mud. Another grabbed his wrist. Dead people emerged from the earth.

Nick shot and shot, but out of Jack’s line of vision.
Jia
Li grabbed one of the dead things by rotted hair. She kicked with such power and speed, its head ripped free of the body.

A hand grabbed Jack’s other leg; another wrapped around his arm. They pulled him down, into the mud, under the grass. Their grips were like iron.

Jack had the butterfly knife in his free hand. He slashed the decomposing hand that had his other wrist, cutting it deeply. It relinquished its hold, but two more arms wrapped around his waist.

From above, a deafening squawk sounded; a sudden wind rushed over him as something large descended. Jack heard more gunshots, but by now he was half under the earth; he couldn’t see a thing.

4.

“See him struggle,” the demon said, “and lose. He’s losing. I can make a difference. I can make it a quick and painless death.”

Lisa struggled to push the demon backwards, able only to delay it from joining the battle.

“Or I can help him,” the demon said. “Save him from the dead beneath the ground, and
Kaz’azeal
, as well. Do you see him there, the demon we agreed to return to its prison, that thing with the leathery wings and steel claws? It will shred your friends, if the dead haven’t already.”

Lisa saw all this, through the demon’s eyes and its mind. She knew the full strength of
Kaz’azeal
, and of the various other creatures around them. She’d run out of options. “Stop the demon first,” she said.

“Agreed.”

She let go.

The demon rushed forward.

5.

Nick fired again and again, reloading as he moved. He kicked and elbowed his way through the dead things rising like weeds from the earth. He slashed their necks, glad they went down like zombies . . . but there were so many.

He lost his balance in a gust of wind, almost fell. Glancing up, he saw what descended: some sort of demon, twice the size of a man, scaled, green, a long neck and a wicked beak. Eyes like the distended bellies of day-old corpses. It was like a bird, armored, without feathers, and it dove at Jack—who was half underground.

Damn. He hadn’t noticed that. Nick rolled toward Jack, hacking at the hands holding him. The limbs he hit fled, but others replaced them.

Nick paused. It was over. Done. The prehistoric bird-like demonic thing would reach them in a moment; the dead arms had a solid hold of Jack;
Jia
Li ripped apart the dead men
almost
as quickly as they rose. And, from the edge of the field, the red behemoth from earlier rushed forward.

Its steps shook the earth. The dead things stopped. The winged creature squawked again, angrily, and diverted its course.

The demons met halfway, crashing into each other with a deafening thud. Flesh was torn from both creatures, and they rolled to the ground.

“Here!” Nick called to the vampire.

She smashed the face of a dead man with the back of her hand and turned. Seeing Jack in the ground, she rushed forward. Together, they sliced through the hands holding Jack.

With the advantage of her speed, and Jack wielding a knife in his own defense, they pulled him back to his feet. One look from Jack, though, and Nick knew what he was thinking: this was worse than he’d anticipated. And it had barely begun.

“Retreat,” Nick said.

“To where?”
Jia
Li asked.

“I can’t run,” Jack said.

The demons had risen off the ground and crashed back so hard, the earth seemed to shift its orbit.

One of the dead things grabbed Nick from behind, pinning his arms. Before he could react,
Jia
Li punched it. So close to Nick’s head, he felt the wind from her arm. The dead man staggered back. Nick spun and cut its throat.

The dead men were everywhere, some more skeleton than flesh, some held together only by fabrics of rotting cloth. The creatures were three deep, mostly dead, but Nick saw other things, bits of hair, colored skin. They were beasts—nothing so refined as
Jia
Li.

The sidelines, from which others watched, had moved closer. They were anxious, perhaps smelling blood. They knew an end was coming.

A creature resembling a lion tore through one of the dead men. Its tail was spiked, its teeth in jagged rows, its mane wild and flaming. Nick put three bullets between its eyes before it fell.

It was a pointless gesture.

6.

The demon and
Kaz’azeal
clashed. Lisa tried to ignore the pain as talons ripped through her (the demon’s) chest, tore at her legs, clawed at her eyes. The thing was no match for the demon; it made a lot of noise, spilled a lot of blood, but it was definitely the weaker creature.

The demon thrilled at the brawl. He pummeled
Kaz’azeal
with heavy, thunderous punches that Lisa felt all the way up in the demon’s head. It wasn’t her body any more. She hadn’t become this; it had overshadowed her. She existed beneath, underneath, still alive, breathing. Her heart beat slowly, but steadily, waiting to emerge again. She braced herself.

“Send it back,” she pleaded. “Help Jack!”

If the demon heard her, he did not respond. He tore open
Kaz’azeal’s
chest, and lifted the mortally wounded creature over his head.

“Send it back!” Lisa cried.

The demon grinned. “My pleasure.”

The rift opened directly before her. She’d had the key; now, the demon had full access to it in her head, picked up accidentally and gratefully relinquished, it was metaphysical, some acquired inhuman ability inadvertently passed from the demon to Lisa a lifetime ago. The hole opened in the ground, a red sliver of earth beneath a sudden spewing of thick, sulfurous gas. Big enough in which to drop
Kaz’azeal
.

As the demon slammed the lesser creature down into that hole, Lisa pulled backwards with all her strength. All her will. She needed every cell, every ounce of sweat and blood, every muscle and sinew, every tear, every thought and belief, every wish and hope and dream. She clutched the white bead, the witch’s gift, her
bead of light
that was now
inside
her demonic body. She squeezed so hard, the crystal shattered; inside herself, white exploded.

She drew from everything, backwards, taking the demon’s legs with her.

For a moment, the demon toppled on the edge of the rift. The red dimmed; the smoke lessened.

Then the demon started to laugh. Honest, frightening, menacing laughter. “That tickled,” he said, though she knew it had done more. Not enough. Not enough.

But Lisa was within the demon now, whole, an entity onto herself. And she still had the hunter’s knife.

The demon’s heart enveloped hers. She had no choice. There was no other way to save Jack. She drove the blade straight through them both.

The demon stopped laughing. The demon stopped moving. And then, Lisa shed the demon’s skin. It unraveled and plummeted into the closing hole.

Lisa, naked and shivering, coated in slime and chunks of demon blood, fell away from the hole and into the mud.

1.

Jack had to get off
this field. He hadn’t come looking to make a final stand. He slashed at the dead men that came too close.
Jia
Li and Nick prevented a lot from getting near him; since they were not the target, the dead men, intent on Jack, ignored them—and fell.

But Jack was already weary. This had gone on for too long. Sure, he had hope, and love, but hope dwindled; the imp didn’t seem willing to make an appearance.

He saw an opening, a hole. He could run, leaving Nick and
Jia
Li, but he’d only reach the dark figures watching from the edge of the field; the
vaudoux
was there, as well as other things he recognized—magicians, conjurers, princes, priests—and a few he did not. Maybe one of them might help. Or they might have been directing the dead men and various beasts that were attacking.