No Mere Zombie: Deathless Book 2 (25 page)

A scuffle came from the far side of the plane, two large bodies grappling. She caught a flash of fur as the pair spilled to the ground, one of them the blonde fur she recognized as belonging to Jordan. The other was a sickly version of the same color. Cyntia. Liz dropped prone and rolled under the plane, springing to her feet on the far side near the combatants. Jordan was getting the worst of it.

He lay on his stomach pinned by Cyntia’s much larger form. His left arm was bent at the wrong angle and there was no sign of any of his ever-present guns. Cyntia bit down, savaging the back of his neck as she began to feed. She ripped loose a mouthful of fur and flesh, gulping it down greedily. She seemed unaware of the gore coating her face, already bending for another bite.

“Get off him, you fucking bitch,” Liz roared, stepping forward and kicking with all her considerable might. The blow caught Cyntia in the chin, splintering her jaw and flinging her backwards with a sharp crack. Cynthia
tumbled backwards, rolling into the shadows as she regained her footing
and glared at Liz with
hateful eyes, now the deep scarlet of a heart wound. When had they changed?

Those eyes winked out as Cyntia fled back into the shadows. Liz looked about warily as she knelt next to Jordan and felt for a pulse. She’d never seen him so badly wounded, but knew that Blair had recovered from worse. Hopefully he was okay. She pushed through the fur until her fingers found the carotid artery. The pulse was thready, but at least there was one.

Movement behind her. She began to spin, but too late. Cyntia lunged from the shadows, fangs painted red from Jordan’s blood. She seized Liz, yanking her throat forward even as her fangs descended. Fresh agony ripped through her as Cyntia bit into her throat. She couldn’t breathe. Everything was fire. She tumbled backwards, Cyntia’s once smaller form crashing down on top of her.
 

Chapter 40- Turning Point

Blair came to with a gasp atop the wing of the Cessna. He was coated in something hot and sticky. Blood. His blood. Deafening peals of combat echoed over him like some gigantic church bell. Gunshots and crates smashing and metal bending. He rolled to his feet, taking in his immediate surroundings. The giant zombie lay twitching on the ground nearby, seemingly unable to rise. Its hand still clutched a furry leg. Auburn fur. Liz. Where was she?

Rage surged through him as he surveyed the hangar,
but she was nowhere to be found.
 

Something tugged at him. Blair turned towards the far side of the hangar where he’d seen the biggest plane earlier. The one Irakesh was presumably inside, or perhaps had just emerged from since the link had grown stronger. He was in the darkness somewhere, waiting. There was movement near the plane, though he doubted it could be Irakesh. The deathless was too crafty to be spotted. So who was it?

Blair blurred across the tarmac, leaping into the air and landing on top of the cargo plane with a hollow thud. It was much bigger up close, wide enough to hold a tank or a whole lot of troops and long enough to play volleyball inside. Something was clicking from the interior below, something that sounded an awful lot like a larger version of the fuel pump he’d had on his rusted out Pontiac back in high school. Were they getting this thing ready to fly? Of course they were.

The figure Blair had spotted was Steve, prowling the darkness with that midnight fur. He crouched near the far wall, beneath two gigantic doors they would have to open to taxi the aircraft out. Blair needed to leave Steve out there as bait. It was callous, but also smart. Steve would probably approve.

“Complacent,” a smug voice whispered from directly behind him, even as something hot spiked into his back. A glittering golden blade burst from his chest, slick with his own blood. “You perch up here watching the darkness as if you are the predator, but you’ve always been the prey, Ka-Dun. I led you here. I feel you even as you feel me.”

Irakesh. Blair rolled forward, the blade making a wet pop as it slipped from his chest. The wound was excruciating, but he’d grown used to pain like that. What shocked him was the icy chill that passed through him, an almost living thing that stole the warmth from his blood.

Be wary of the weapon, Ka-Dun. It is an ancient thing and very dangerous. Sunsteel leeches your strength, delivering it to your foe.

Blair blurred, leaping from the plane and catching one of the ribbed supports lining the top of the hangar some thirty feet above. It was farther than he’d tried leaping before, but the blur gave him the momentum. He caught the cool metal in one hand, swinging himself on top of it as he scanned the darkness below.
 

Irakesh was right. The deathless had the advantage here. He’d led Blair all the way from Peru and seemed to hold all the cards. Yet Blair’s allies still fought below. A shape materialized from the darkness behind Steve, but it wasn’t Irakesh. He’d recognize that close-cropped red hair and freckled face anywhere, even with the horribly sharp fangs. Trevor was working for Irakesh.

The deathless planted the barrel of a massive looking revolver at the base of Steve’s skull and pulled the trigger. It roared, barrel bucking as a short gout of flame erupted. Blood spurted as the wound exited Steve’s face in a shower of bone fragments and gore. Steve collapsed, rolling to the ground bonelessly. It would take long moments to recover. Moments Blair knew Trevor wouldn’t give him.

Blair dropped soundlessly from his perch, swinging just a bit to angle towards Trevor as he fell. One former friend about to murder another. Life certainly had a black sense of irony.

He landed heavily on Trevor’s back, bearing the deathless to the ground in a crunch of bone. Trevor’s revolver skittered away across the hangar’s concrete floor, but that didn’t mean he was unarmed. Each finger now ended in a thick black fingernail, sharp enough to carve flesh. His fangs were just as lethal, designed to rend just like a shark.

Trevor struggled to dislodge Blair from his back, but Blair drove a knee hard into his spine even as he reached around to tear out the deathless’s throat. It helped to think of him that way and not as the man who’d so recently saved his life, who’d opened his home and risked everything to protect Liz.

“Predictable,” Irakesh’s voice hissed behind his ear. The breath was cold and lifeless. “This is why my kind will always win.”

Blair thought he was ready, already beginning to blur. It wasn’t enough. Irakesh’s golden blade punched through his chest, delivering a wound twin to the one he’d scored moment’s earlier. That one had mostly healed, though Blair could still feel it. Not good.

The wound around the blade was ice and Blair could feel his life slipping into the silvery metal. It horrified him, but he couldn’t pull away. Moving took effort. Blurring seemed impossible. He was going to die.

“Get off of him,” Bridget roared, materializing from the shadows and barreling into Irakesh. She knocked him off Blair, wrenching the awful sword from his back and spilling him to the concrete in a spreading pool of his own blood.

Blair flopped onto his side, struggling weakly to his knees. Trevor disappeared back into the shadows but hopefully was too wounded to attack immediately. Blair focused his attention on Irakesh, smiling despite the agony. Bridget had an arm wrapped around his shoulder and was digging out his entrails with her other hand, ripping the stringy organs out as she bit down on his face.
 

Irakesh struggled to free himself, but Bridget was far stronger. His sword was still clutched weakly in one hand, while the other clawed ineffectually at her wrist. Then Trevor appeared again, apparently having recovered his revolver. He unloaded three quick shots, each belching a round into Bridget’s head from close range. The stench of gunpowder battled the rich tang of blood, the blend overpowering in his weakened state.

Bridget shrieked, releasing Irakesh and leaping away. She left a trail of blood behind her, but there was no sign of her as she vanished into the shadow’s waiting embrace. Irakesh did the same, as did Trevor. Only he and Steve were still there, struggling to rise.

You must feed Ka-Dun, and soon. Your strength wanes.
 

I don’t have time.
He thought back, staggering to his feet. He couldn’t recall having felt this weak even before he’d become a werewolf.
 

He didn’t dare waste energy blurring, choosing instead to lope towards the plane he knew Irakesh would have to leave in. At least he knew his nemesis’s destination, though stopping him from taking what he wanted was another matter.

The press of zombies had receded, so many had been cut down during the early fighting. There were still dozens remaining, though Blair paid them no mind. He could easily avoid them. They all could, assuming they weren’t so wounded they couldn’t move.
 

Blair skidded to a halt next to Steve, sliding an arm under his shoulders and hoisting him to his feet, “Hang in there, Steve. I’ve got you. You’re damn hard to kill. I thought for sure you’d gone down for the last time when Trevor shot you in the head.’

“You know him?” Steve looked shocked and more than a bit groggy. He held his hand to his forehead, which still leaked blood. He must be weak if his wounds were no longer fully healing.

“Yeah, long story. He’s Liz’s brother. We have no idea how he ended up with Irakesh, but that’s bad for us. He was lethal before. Now? I’m not sure we can stop him,” Blair admitted, scanning the darkness. There was no sign of anyone near them.

He did hear fighting on the far side of the hangar, knock-down, drag-out brawl from the sound of it. It was probably Liz, though who or what she was fighting remained a mystery. He couldn’t focus on that right now.
 

“We’re being hunted. Trevor and Irakesh can both hide in the shadows, that’s the bad news,” Blair said, helping Steve towards the aircraft. If they were on board Irakesh would have to kill them before taking off.

“You’re implying there’s good news,” Steve said, pushing Blair gently away. “I can manage, I think. My head is starting to clear.”

“There is good news, at least a little,” Blair said, scanning the darkness as they approached the long metal ramp leading into the cargo area of the plane. “Bridget is still out there, too. That’s the only thing keeping Irakesh and Trevor from killing us.”

“Lovely,” Steve growled, eyes a bit more focused now. He too scanned the darkness. “So we’re out here as bait, basically. They attack us, she attacks them.”

“Something like that. Irakesh will have to make a move soon. He can’t let us get into the pla- ,” Blair began. He was interrupted as Trevor materialized from the darkness, barrel aimed at Blair’s face. Blair blurred, ducking even as his friend’s finger stroked the trigger.

It boomed, a round whizzing through the space his head had just occupied. Then a much larger shape burst from the darkness. Bridget. She tackled Trevor, the pair rolling through the darkness like feral dogs. They snapped and clawed at each other, nothing human in either face.

Blair had a split second to consider. He knew Irakesh would appear any second now that Bridget was occupied.
Use your mind, Ka-Dun. He cannot shape as you do. He can fool the eye, but you can fool the mind.

That was it. Blair had invaded Liz’s mind. He’d plucked thoughts from other people. Ahiga had even invaded
his
mind. So why couldn’t he invade Irakesh’s? If he understood the deathless, they lacked the ability to either attack or defend on that front. It might be the one advantage he possessed.

“So stupid,” Irakesh roared, appearing in front of Blair. He rammed his blade through Blair’s throat in a shower of hot pain and wet sticky blood. Blair sagged to his knees, clutching weakly at the sword lodged in his neck. The pain was a living thing, eating at his vision like a cancer. “You should never have come, Ka-Dun. I’d have preferred not to kill you. I’d have preferred a truce. Yet you are forcing my hand. I cannot have you dogging my every step. I have work to do, so if you are so determined to harry me you must be put down like a rabid animal.”

Blair glanced at Steve. Or rather at where Steve had been. Evidently he’d blurred away, because there was no sign of him now. Blair wanted to be angry, but he couldn’t force himself. He didn’t blame Steve for fleeing. There was nothing he could have done to help, only get himself killed. If Blair were to survive he’d have to save himself. He had one chance. If it worked he’d get the drop on Irakesh for once. If not, he’d be dead and it wouldn’t matter.

“Why are you smiling?” Irakesh demanded, eyes smoldering as he yanked his weapon from Blair’s throat.

Blair honed his will into a spike. It came easily now, even with the agony and exhaustion. He had almost no strength left, but Mother willing it would be enough.

“Because,” Blair rasped through his ruined throat, gaze locking with Irakesh. “I’m in your head.”

Then he struck, sliding past the deathless’s defenses with surprising ease.
 

Chapter 41- Deceived

Irakesh was escorted into the throne room, a cavernous chamber in the very heart of the Ark. A narrow red carpet stretched the length of the chamber, four massive glow bulbs hovering above. Each blazed like a miniature sun, though their soft ivory light left shadows in the corners. None of the brightly clothed sycophants lining either side of the carpet were careless enough to let their booted feet touch the plush velvet. Doing so would have been a gross breach of etiquette, one they may not survive.