The Killin' Fields (Alexa's Travels Book 2) (32 page)

“Look out!”

Daniel’s shout still sounded excited and David drew his gun, splashing faster through the muck.

3

“Ahh!” Alexa screamed in pain as the huge animal made of fire grabbed her, squeezing. “Hit the collar!”

The gigantic firedog was three stories tall and covered in constantly shifting flames. Five long arms swept out at the fighters who tried to rescue them.

“Shoot it!”

All four men opened fire on the legendary creature, not questioning. They were too scared to do anything more than obey.

The animal was tall, wide, and covered in small, glowing red feathers that brushed over the collar like a protective shield, deflecting even the best shot.

“Reload!” Daniel shouted and the gunfire ceased. It let them hear Alexa’s cries of pain as the firedog tried to crush her when the heat did no damage.

David and Jacob were last to finish reloading and the blacksmith grabbed the preacher’s arm, pointing to a ledge. “Up there!”

Jacob took off for the platform, and David fired at the creature’s ankles, hoping their thinness meant they were a weak spot.

The creature roared in anger as David emptied his mag and Alexa fell to the muck, groaning and coughing.

Jacob swung onto the platform that had probably once been used as secondary stairs into this wasteland, and he drew down on the creature as it lifted a wide foot to crush Alexa.

The shot was perfect, but Jacob followed it with five more, being sure the collar was shattered.

The firedog cried out in horrible agony and then exploded into a million tiny red flames that sizzled angrily in the dampness before vanishing.

The men rushed to Alexa’s side, helping her to her feet, and they kept a hand around her until she was steady enough to walk on her own.

Above them, familiar gunfire split the air and the five muddy fighters moved toward a set of stone stairs they could just barely glimpse through the swirling fog and plant life.

4

Alexa and Edward met at the bottom of the grand stairs, each group relieved to see the other.

“Things okay?” she asked, going to the side of the massive staircase.

“We ran into a delay, but we handled it,” Edward answered, noticing fresh bruises and blood on her skin.

“Good,” Alexa praised, pointing to the second floor landing. “We’re going up there. But not by the expected route.”

“Yes, please,” Daniel joked in a half grumble. “No damn stairs. The ones to get back up here lasted like, forever.”

David and Jacob nodded their agreement. Only Alexa and Mark hadn’t been gasping by the time they got to the stone door at the top.

Alexa found a place to climb and the seven of them scaled the sides of the staircase like the demon monkeys from Wizard of Oz. They crawled alone the stone and marble columns in quiet rhythms that were fascinating to watch.

Alexa dropped onto the landing, but didn’t go anywhere, evaluating the sudden sound of ballroom music that was floating through the air around them. This house was ancient and it held ghosts-she’d expected that, but the song playing was the one she and Adrian had used to teach her t dance during that perfect summer. It was intentional, she knew that, and she fought the urge to rail at fate for the curse that had been paced on her family.

There were three doors on this floor and they could hear the voices and music from the one at the far end. They had to pass two other large doors to get there. The men moved in that deadly V without being told. They knew Alexa would want those rooms cleared to keep anyone from trapping them.

Mark and Edward kicked the first door open and rushed inside with the rest of the group on their heels. The instant they were inside, the door swung shut, throwing them into total darkness.

Alexa struck a match and held it to the torch that Edward held out. Their rear man, Daniel, also lit a torch from her flame.

It gave them a small circle of light to see by and they moved forward with their guns out and eyes trying to adjust. They made it to the center of what appeared to be a large round room made of a glimmering stone and then a strong draft blew through hard enough to put out both torches.

Alexa sighed, understanding the house was reading their fears.

“Think of amusing tales, my pets. We need no mental terrors here.”

Alexa still wanted to give them an idea of what to expect, but was unable. It was a part of her story that they hadn’t gotten to yet. Much of her information hadn’t come from actually doing, only reading the notebooks. Instinct took over from there.

Alexa led them forward in the darkness, listening, sensing nothing but empty space.

“Whoa!” she twisted away from the hole in the floor just in time, lunging backwards to stop the domino effect from pushing her over anyway.

Mark, boots touching the edge of nothing, pulled on her arm.

A quick view by a match flame that was again blown out revealed a rope ladder leading down into the hole and Alexa rose to her feet instead of lowering herself down. “If you want me, come and get me.”

The answer was almost instant.

A blinding blue glow sped from the bottom of the hole, growing larger and more brilliant, and Alexa waved the men away.

There was no trouble seeing now as light flooded the stone and tile room. It bounced off the glittering rocks and took the shape of a vast man with a long staff that formed an arrow at the bottom.

Alexa stood still as the man pointed his staff at her and the men ran to place themselves between the pair, not sure if bullets would help. They hadn’t thought to ask about anyone other than the master of this haunted house.

“Who wakes me?” the man demanded, voice echoing. His long white beard looked like every magician the fighters had seen in the movies, all combined into one, and the result was a young, old man who stood twice as tall as Alexa and glared down at them with vivid purple orbs.

Alexa placed her hands on her gun butts. “Alexa Mitchel.”

The old man attacked without warning, raising the staff to fire a brilliant beam, but Alexa’s draw was incredibly fast. She fired, hitting the staff, and it flew into the air.

“No!” the man shouted, scrambling for his power.

Alexa beat him to it, kicking the powerful object into the hole, where it clattered against the sides and snapped several times. The cracking noise was the loudest noise in the room as Alexa turned on the man, her face glowing with anger. “Demand it of me now, I beg you!”

She placed her gun to his temple and pulled the trigger as he cowered, and she was blasted across the room by the explosion of blinding light that quickly faded into the smoky air.

Edward helped Alexa to her feet, and motioned for Billy to lead them out. “Clear.”

The group moved into the hall, closing the door behind them, and Alexa kept them right there for a few minutes, letting her men adjust. What they were going through was hard on both body and mind. She too should need recovery time, but despite the new injuries, she felt almost invincible.

As they waited, each of them were aware of the music and voices being louder, as if the party was winding up, and the feeling of weariness was common among the men. It had already been a long day.

5

“Ready.”

The second door burst open before they got to it, and the landing filled with undead guards who spotted Alexa and ran toward her with snarls of rage.

Alexa swung her arm out and her fighters fell back to let her work.

Alexa was angry. The pains and agony she’d witnessed while getting this far came bleeding through and she took it out on the zombie-like people who staggered toward her.  She used her blade with each swing, putting them down quickly.

Edward and David didn’t like being left out of the action and they joined the fight, enjoying the ease with which the undead went down. Except more of them were flooding through the narrow doorway now, more than three of them could handle alone and the others rushed forward to help.

Alexa was battling her way to the door, using her anger to fuel her energy, but was grateful when her men appeared at her side. They fought their way in the direction she pointed to and finally reaching the door was an enormous relief.  Until they peered through it.

“That’s not possible,” Jacob moaned. “That can’t happen.”

The room was too big to measure. There were no ends or edges, no walls or a ceiling, no doors or curtains even, just a harsh, desert landscape filled with undead. Millions of them roamed the wastelands, and many of those were being drawn to the open door.

“Oh my God!” David cried, jerking on the heavy door. “Close it!”

Alexa felt instinct whispering and shoved her way through as her men handled the next wave of undead to reach them.

Alexa saw the glowing sign of a portal and removed the golden knife given to her before she’d left Lincoln. She threw it as hard as she could and then spun and ran, not waiting to see if it landed where she needed it. The group of undead coming toward her numbered in the thousands, the first wave of the horde arriving, and she hurtled herself back through the door as her men slammed it shut.

The undead crammed against the door and the wood bulged under the pressure but because it opened inward, they were trapped.

Alexa turned toward the final door without taking a break this time, still catching her breath, but unable to wait and see if her blade had closed the doorway. It hadn’t appeared to be between worlds, but between continents, and the possible effects it could have caused over four years was staggering.

Behind them, a loud bang echoed and the door shimmered as if it were going to melt, then it became solid, another wall of stone instead of a door and Alexa was relived. She’d read of the portals with wonder and remembered that blessed gold would cause an explosion. The resulting chain reaction had closed the portal and Alexa was glad. Even fire wouldn’t have prevented that many undead from coming through the door.

6

They opened the last door to find a spacious ballroom decorated in civil war era furnishings. The fixtures were genuine, the wide drapes and the hooped skirts of the belles a testament to the times, and even the blood dripping from painted faces seemed to compliment the impression that they’d stepped back in time. The only difference that stood out at first was that these dancers and drinkers, and drunken daughters were dead.

“Holy shit,” Jacob swore, surprising the others into a snicker. It was rare for the preacher to curse.

Jacob ignored them, staring at the gaping sockets, the dangling limbs. “Is this some kind of a joke?”

“It’s the dance of the dead,” David stated in awe. “I didn’t think it was real.”

“What is the dance of the dead?” Edward asked, tensely watching as the ghosts turned toward them.

“A story about travelers who get trapped in a haunted house. They’re all killed horribly-disfigurement, impalement, and then they become part of the vengeful ghosts. The dance happens every night. It’s a repeat of their death to provide entertainment for the royals of court.”

“The what?”

“What court?”

They didn’t understand exactly what it meant, but it didn’t matter as they were spotted in the ballroom doorway.

The ghosts reacted immediately, baring fangs as they lunged.

Alexa started shooting and though the slugs didn’t kill the ghosts, it did cause them to disappear and have to gather themselves again to become visible, buying time.

“Coat room!” Alexa ordered them forward, shooting her way through as the mass of bodies converged upon them.

From the doorway, it looked like a massive swarm of living dead had the fighters surrounded in the middle, to their doom. The sound of gunfire was constant, unyielding, and the clouds of dust from imploding and reappearing ghosts was like a sand storm across the ballroom. It allowed for tracking the progress of the fighters, as the cloud moved steadily toward the rear of the wide room.

With no chance to reload, all of the fighters were using their knives to get through long before they reached the small door Alexa had spotted.

Billy yanked it open, saw only coats, and began shoving his fellow-fighters inside. He didn’t hesitate to grab Alexa’s swinging arm either, though he did let her kill a rather gruesome woman in a serving frock first. It looked like a relative of the cook from downstairs and Billy wasn’t sorry when her head blew apart.

They slammed the door behind Billy as he hurtled himself through and for a minute, the group stood there, reloading and panting.

“I’m almost out,” Mark said, popping a fresh mag into his gun.

“Same here,” Edward stated, doing the same. He wasn’t worried over it as much as he was concerned about what help bullets would be against the master of this horror house. They couldn’t kill the ghosts on this floor and were now stuck in the coatroom. The odds weren’t very good.

“I think there’s another door here,” Jacob told them, doing recon. He was in a far corner, where the roof and the floor no longer met evenly due to time and weather. The result was a rut that made Jacob seem a full foot shorter.