Don't Read After Dark: Keep the lights on while reading these! (A McCray Horror Collection) (83 page)

“Have faith,” he whispered in her ear as they sailed through the air.

They should have been caught in the blast. They should have been singed to their core as flames coursed around and between them, but the worst that happened was a warm flush over her body. Then Rook turned in midair so that it was he who took the brunt of the impact with the ground. He hit shoulder first as they plowed into the soil.

It took her a moment to realize that they really and truly were not scorched.

She gazed down at Rook. “Thank you.”

The tiniest smile played at the corner of his lips. “I was just returning the favor.”

He had done more than that, and they both knew it. His eyes searched hers. Was she just vulnerable, or did she wish he would reach out to her?

Angela would never know as Fanny clapped, pointing to their blazing wreckage. “We need to blow more stuff up! It’s so pretty!”

Seeming almost embarrassed, Rook moved Angela away from him so that he could hastily rise. Feeling awkward herself, she scrambled to join the group. Fanny might be a tad too exuberant, but she wasn’t exactly inaccurate. The helicopter wreck did light up the dazzling night sky.

* * *

Beauty watched the chopper burn. “Vlad is
so
not getting the second half of the deposit.”

Beside her, Rook tried to look innocent, which never,
ever
worked for him. “What?”

“Well… you see…” He said kicking a clod of dirt with his boot. “I paid in full…”

She waved him off. “No worries. I’ll just cancel the check and—”

Sheepishly Rook admitted, “In cash.”

All right. After everything that they had been through, it shouldn’t matter so much that Rook had just wasted over a quarter of a million dollars. Yet, almost soothingly, it did bother her. It meant that they were alive to bicker another day.

Of course, that didn’t get Rook off the hook.

Beauty grabbed the contract from her purse and tossed it into the air. “I’m the Arranger, but does he let me
arrange
?” She glared at Rook. “No, he doesn’t.”

Rook tried to console her as Fanny picked up the contract.

“But Beauty, Vlad sent us a damned zombie! And not even a fresh one! I’m sure you can… I don’t know. Sue him for breach of contract or something.”

“Well, in Vlad’s defense,” Fanny said as she pointed to the papers, “This doesn’t say anything about the pilot having to be alive—”

Rook tried to “shush” Fanny, but Beauty nodded her pink weave knowingly. When would Rook learn? “Um-hmm.”

“Guys,” Angela said as she knelt next to Chad, “Beauty was right. Chad’s not looking great.”

Okay, Beauty would rather have been wrong about that.
Really
wrong.

* * *

Tomahawk felt sorry for the guy. Chad had just wanted to learn a little bit about dark culture, probably as some kind of rebellion against his blue-blooded family. Instead, he ended up a Hellgate in sneakers.

Everyone gathered around as the seal morphed and melted deeper and deeper into the guy’s chest.

“Tommi, did you decipher those hidden icons?”

“Hello?” Tomahawk answered. “Got a little distracted.”

Not waiting for Rook’s retort, Tomahawk went to sort through the wreckage for his laptop, but Fanny skipped up to him. “Figured you’d need this.”

Yes, at times it really was nice to have a Seeker around.

“Ouch!” Angela said as she jerked her hand back from Chad. “His skin is practically boiling.”

Tomahawk sank to a cross-legged position and opened his laptop as Chad’s skin began to resemble a lobster. Unfortunately, the student roused as Tomahawk entered the new symbols into his computer’s database and asked for a translation.

“What’s happening?” Chad screamed.

Rook turned to Beauty. “Can you give him something?” But Beauty indicated the burning wreckage.

“We lost it all in there.”

Chad screamed as his clothes caught on fire. The group scrambled back as Chad erupted in flame, his body consumed within a flash. Within moments the only thing left was a charred outline in the grass.

Not sure if it really mattered, Tomahawk read the results.

“Yeah, those symbols were a countdown. It was preordained that after three openings, the seal would self-destruct…” As Rook became more agitated, Tomahawk added, “Sorry.”

Although what would it have changed, really?

CHAPTER 11

“So no Virgin and no Hellgate?” Rook repeated, trying to make sure he got the full brunt of exactly how screwed they were.

This news changed everything. Chad had been programmed to be a three-hit wonder. He wasn’t truly a Hellgate. He was, kind of, the free shuttle that got them from one place to another.

They had all been played, and played big time. Whoever was pulling the strings and could manipulate a coven of Shivate priestesses to dig up a Hellgate, conjure a Tainted Dragon, and fake a Virgin conception was bigger than anything he had faced. Worse, Rook had no idea of the endgame. Had they wanted to start Armageddon, or was that only the tip of a very deep and wide iceberg?

And what role had he just played?

Before he could stew much more about how his incredibly crappy day had just gotten worse, Fanny came up next to him and put her head on his shoulder. She looked down at where Chad used to be.

“Don’t you think we should say something?”

“What? He was crispy-fried.”

But Fanny’s frown tugged at his heart, so Rook took a deep breath and did the best that he could. “Chad. You were… Well, you were kind of whiny and really annoying, but we are sorry you are dead.”

He looked down at Fanny, who solemnly nodded. At least she appreciated it. Beauty was still pissed about the helicopter, but honestly, getting a zombie wasn’t on any of their radars. And Tomahawk was too busy screwing with his computer to care. Only Angela stood by Chad’s funeral pyre and held Fanny’s other hand.

A chill coursed over Rook. Too many times that burning pile of ash could have been any of them. He shouldn’t care about that. Emotions only slowed your reflexes, yet here he stood mourning a guy he didn’t even know yesterday.

“Rook,” Tomahawk said, “I guess Savage is over being pissed at us. The Cabal is sending me some streaming video of—”

Rook waved him off. He was bruised, battered and hungry. Whatever it was could wait. “Whatever. Just have Savage send us an airlift, with, preferably, a
live
pilot.”

A tree just over the ridge looked perfect for leaning against. He started to make his way there when Tomahawk taunted him. “Remember how you said we didn’t have a Virgin?”

Rook turned on his heel, still a little suspicious about what Tomahawk was talking about. “Yes…”

“Well,” Tomahawk stated as he turned to screen around for Rook to see. “They must be having a blue-light special on ‘em.”

The screen showed a world map with tiny blue lights popping up all over the globe. The others gathered round to watch the spectacle.

“Each one represents a report of an immaculate conception.”

Rook struggled to take it in. “But there’s—”

“Hundreds, maybe thousands,” Tomahawk responded.

Beauty shook her head. “What could they possibly need with so many babies?”

“No,” Rook said, getting everyone’s attention. “There’s only one.”

Fanny pointed at the screen. “But look how many there are.”

“Rook’s right,” Tomahawk agreed. “I bet 99 percent of those are like Angela. A smokescreen.”

* * *

Angela’s hand went to her belly. She had so little time to get accustomed to her pregnancy, yet in some small way she missed it. Or at least the idea of it. To rebuild a family would have required it to have been a normal pregnancy. She was relieved not to be the center of the maelstrom they had just survived.

She looked down at all those blue dots. Each one represented a woman whose life had just been changed forever. Had they all experienced such loss as she did? Were all born of such tragedy?

And were they as lucky to have people like Rook, Beauty, Tomahawk, and Fanny to look out for them? Angela still understood perhaps a sliver of a fraction of a percent of what was going on, but she had seen with her own eyes how Rook stood between heaven and hell to protect humankind. That kind of made up for his more “difficult” personality traits.

Suddenly, Angela realized that all eyes were on her. She removed her hand from her midriff and pointed to the dots. “So they are playing ‘find the needle in a haystack?’ “

“More like a Virgin-palooza version of
Where’s Waldo?
,” Rook replied. That look of mischief was back in his eyes.

“From what we know of Angela’s situation, I think I can write an algorithm that can weed out about 80 percent of the false-positives.”

Still, there were a
lot
of blue dots.

Tomahawk typed furiously but his laptop beeped loudly, his battery bar flashing red. He closed his computer. “Well, once I get power, I can. But we are definitely going on Virgin Vigil.”

“So we’re done with this mission?” Fanny asked.

They all looked at Rook.

“What,” he said. “Do I look like your boss?”

The others all responded, “Yes.”

“Fine,” Rook conceded. “Yes, Fanny, we are officially off the clock.”

“You know what that means?”

Angela watched Rook sigh his fake sigh for Fanny. “I have no clue.”

“S’mores!” Fanny shouted as she ran toward the smoldering helicopter.

Rook called out. “But we don’t have the supplies.”

“I betcha we do! I betcha, betcha, I bet!”

He went to go after Fanny, but Angela caught his arm.

“Let her go.” When Rook turned to her, Angela finished. “What is it you said? Have some faith?”

Fanny popped her head back out of the wreckage holding a box of graham crackers, a bag of marshmallows, and some chocolate bars.

The young woman beamed. “I told you Vlad still loved me!”

And if that were the case, Angela thought, maybe they all did have reason to have some hope.

EPILOGUE

Rook warmed his hands on the fire they had stoked from the burned out helicopter. The rest formed a circle around the campfire as they waited for their extraction. He pierced another marshmallow for toasting as Fanny opened her mouth wide around a triple-decker S’more. She had chocolate drizzling down her chin, but he didn’t bother to tell her. She’d just say she was saving it for later.

For a moment anger rose again. Fanny should be able to eat all the S’mores she could handle without having to go through the dying and getting shocked back to life portion of her day. That they all had to risk their lives for people who would never know their names? Yeah, that part of the job kind of sucked.

Beauty seemed perfectly comfortable, however, as she ran everyone through their paces, getting them organized. She had a clipboard and everything.

“Tomahawk, are you confident that you will have the program up and running by morning?”

Tomahawk slowly rotated the stick with his marshmallow. “Yeah, there might be a few bugs to work out, but no later than midday.” He nodded to Angela. “I know you’ve been through a lot, but it would be very helpful if I could get some understanding of what led up to… Well… up to the events of the past twenty-four hours.”

Rook was about to step in when Angela readily nodded. “As long as you don’t expect
me
to understand it, sure.”

Beauty checked off a box. “Great. I’ll have to do some damage control at the mental institution on Dr. Lerhaven’s behalf,” she said pointedly at Rook, “But beyond that we should be ready to rock ‘n’ roll.”

“Nope!” Fanny announced. “We’ve got just one more thing to do!”

Beauty double-checked her form. “Fanny, we are set.”

Rook, though, looked at the young woman sitting next to him. Her eyes were bright and keen.

“And that would be?” he asked.

“Tell scary stories!” Fanny announced, as she cuddled up next to him. “Rook gets to start!” Everyone chuckled as she looked up into his eyes. “Tell the one about the guy with a hook for a hand and the teenagers in the car…”

With her eyes sparkling and her cheek against his shoulder, how could he refuse? And yes, many, many, many parts of his job sucked. This aspect, though?

Never.

“All right. On a stormy night—” Rook started.

Fanny popped her head up, and in all seriousness, told him, “Don’t make it too scary, though. I don’t want to get nightmares.”

Rook patted her hand as everyone settled in for a night of not-too-scary stories.

“On a stormy night… but not
too
windy,” Rook restarted as Fanny laid her head on his shoulder. “A man with a huge pointed hook, that wasn’t
too
sharp came up to a car…”

CLUB DEATH

Bonus - 1st Episode

PROLOGUE

The voice was back with a vengeance tonight. Not like it had really gone that far. It had become a constant presence in his life. And, once more, it was telling him to kill.

The voice was so insistent. He had done his best, holding out for so long. The last six months he had heard that irritating voice jabbering away in his skull. It wouldn’t let him eat. It wouldn’t let him sleep. He couldn’t even play with himself without the voice commenting on his technique and then yelling at him to get on with it already. Just do it.
Killkillkill.