Reaper: The Demontouched Saga (Book 3) (10 page)

BOOK: Reaper: The Demontouched Saga (Book 3)
3.52Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

As the ground gets closer I pull even harder, eventually closing my eyes to focus on the metal. Seeing the ground isn’t doing me any favors at this point.

Sara’s fingernails digging into my arm sends a signal to my brain telling me to just pull hard. I put everything into pulling the metal under my feet. My knees buckle from the sudden stop, sending me to the ground.

“Good enough,” Nal says right before firing his pistol.

The pain in my legs is jarring. I don’t think I broke anything, but it may have been better if I had. I feel the soft tug of Sara’s arm under my shoulder, trying to help me up.

“Go help him. I’ll be fine.”

Sara gives me a peck on the lips before rushing off to help Nal. I don’t think I’ll ever get used to her having powers, or her new color changing eyes. The first thing I need to do when this is all done is get that necklace away from her. I just hope she doesn’t put up too much of a fight when I do.

Between Nal’s gun and Sara’s nifty ability with fire, the six thugs last about two minutes before they are all dead on the floor.

“You going to be OK, princess? Or do we have to find you a carriage?” Nal offers his hand to help me up.

“I’ll take the carriage if you got it.” I take his hand and get to my feet. My legs feel like pure jello at this point, my feet a bit worse. When I get a chance I need to practice that move though, it could come in very handy.

My ankle pops loudly when I take my first step, the pain shoots up to my calf before it slowly fades away. “Shit, that feels a ton better.” I shift my weight on my other ankle until it does the same thing.

“Where to now?” Sara asks, dusting off her pants.

“Not down that way.” I point back towards the spot where all the cars are parked. “From there I don’t care which way we go, but we should stick together.”

“I agree,” Nal says as he changes out his magazine.

“I say we go that way.” Sara points to to the hallway to the north. The only one that is not lit up well.

“Sounds like a plan,” Nal says, leading the way.

As I walk down the hallway I can make out the sign boards for the various stores that used to be inside. Fifteen years ago this place would have been difficult to get through on a Friday night. From wall to wall there would be hundreds of teenagers using the place as a hangout. That lasted until a few years before the mall shut down. This one started the policy of no kids without parents to keep out the bullshit. It was only a matter of time before the other area malls followed suit.

It always pisses me off that a few bad seeds can ruin all the fun.

When we get up to the old Radio Shack I stop to peek in the glass. Inside the store I see what I believe is a bed and some other furniture. If I had to guess, Rick has converted the place to be a large housing complex. It’s a smart call in that it brings all of his minions together in one place. That works well as long as you can maintain your dominance over the others. If there is one things demons are known for is their willingness to kill each other as a power play. Not only do they have to worry about the normal threats from Angels and assholes like me, they also have to keep an eye out on the guy in the cubicle down the hall. You never know when he is going to get a wild hair up his ass and decide to take your job.

“Do you think he is in one of the stores?” Sara asks.

“He might be, but I’d put my money on him being in one of the anchor stores,”

I say. Most of the area malls were built around three or four of these stores that were the main feature of each wing. It’s been so long since I’ve been to this mall, I can’t remember which stores were here, but it isn’t important. The only thing I know is that the anchor stores are the big ones. He could be anywhere in them.

“Keep your eyes on the stores though. The last thing we want is to have someone come up from behind.”

We keep working our way down the hall, stopping briefly to check every store. Most of them are set up similarly to the Radio Shack with a bed and some furniture. We try to get in a few of them, but stop checking after the first three we came across were locked and barred. That means there has to be another access hall to get around.

Up ahead we see the barred gates leading to what used to be a Sears. The signage is long gone, but the letters are still visible thanks to an outline made up of many layers of paint. Nal walks ahead and tries to move the gates.

“They have this place locked up tight,” Nal says while he peeks inside the store.

“There might be a way to get in from upstairs,” Sara says. The mall was a classic two floor design. Most of the malls in the area were designed the same way. There were a few that had three, and another with just one, but for the most part, they were all like this.

“No time.” I walk up to the door and move it around, careful not to make too much noise. “Looks like the lock latches over here.”

“Unless you brought some lock picks, and know how to do it, we need to go back.” Nal starts walking towards the center of the mall.

“Wait up, lets try something first,” I say. “Sara, can you pinpoint that fire of yours to something small, like the lock?”

“I should be able to, why?”

“What I want you to do is heat up that lock. Get it nice and hot. The whole time I’ll use my power to pull the barrier out of the way.”

“That should work,” Nal says. “I wish you thought about that before you sent us crashing to the ground.”

“Yeah, me too.” I take a few steps back from the barrier. “Hit it whenever you are ready.”

“Here we go,” she says.

I start to worry about Sara when I see how fast she is able to get the lock to a bright shade of red-orange. How is she able to have pinpoint control over that skill while I still struggle to manipulate metal at times. It may look like I’m starting to suffer from a fit of jealously, but I call it a bunch of bullshit. There is something in that amulet that is dangerous. Why else would a guy like Blane go out of his way to obtain it.

Moments later, liquid metal begins to drip onto the floor as the lock melts. When I see a hole where the lock used to be I focus on the gate and start to lift it up. It doesn’t go far before it catches again. The lock may be gone, but the latch is still in one piece. I give it a few quick shakes which happens to free the barrier, much to my amazement.

“Her shit is amazing,” Nal says. “Yours, however, still needs some major work.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” I say.

“Anytime.” He walks past us and starts looking through the store.

Unlike the other stores, down here we don’t see a single bed. Through the dim glow of the emergency lights, however, we can make out what looks like cubicle walls set up to our right.

“What do you think those are for?” Nal says.

“Beats me. Let’s take a peek.”

When I get close I notice some liquid pooling on the floor around the walls. It is hard to make out in this light, but I would put money on it being blood.

“You may want to stand back,” I tell Sara.

The smell of death on the other side of the wall confirms my thoughts. Not only is there a dead body on the other side. There are dozens of them piled up in a grotesque sort of Jenga pile. While I can’t speak for the ones on the bottom, seeing the blood oozing from the throat of the one on top tells me was killed recently.

“More bodies,” I say. “Pretty fresh too.”

“Bastard has to be somewhere close,” Nal says. “I’d bet what little I have left that he has your orb with him too.”

“What if this is a prison, and not a base?” I ask. The more I think about it, the signs are pointing directly at that. You have the stores all set up to house people, but the only ones here were the guards we killed when we came inside. The cars outside make it look like this place is just packed with people, perhaps they leave it that way to draw more people in. The same way they drew so many people into the bombing celebration downtown.

As we continue to search the old Sears store, we find more of the same. I haven’t been keeping count, but there has to be over two hundred bodies scattered across the store.

“Do you see that?” Sara asks, ducking close to the ground.

“Someone is heading this way.”

Up near the gate I see what looks to be four flashlights moving in our direction. Unless my timing is off, they will be in the store in the next minute or so.

“What do you think?” Nal says. “Take them out?”

“I don’t see what choice we have. I sure as hell am not hiding under any of these bodies.” I don’t think they make enough soap to clean myself off if I did something stupid like that.

The three of us head back towards the front, weapons at the ready. You can call it being paranoid, but I call it being prepared. If you find yourself trapped behind enemy lines, you better be ready to fight your way out.

We stop well within view of the gate inside and duck to the ground. Right behind it I can see the source of the light, holding steady just outside.

“Looks like they are packing heat,” Nal says. “Unless I’m wrong, the lights are attached to AKs.”

“That’s what it looks like to me.” The presence of guns tells me that these guys are not demons. Sure, a demon is more than capable of using a gun to kill someone. They just tend to like doing it with their abilities. You can avoid the noise while ending up with a more adequate result. We call that a win-win.

“Let’s go pay them a visit,” I say. “Stand behind me.”

As I get closer, I can see one of the men aiming his light on the molten slag from the lock on the floor. Part of me wishes that we cleaned that up before heading inside. I’m kind of glad we didn’t though, it is keeping our company occupied.

“Can I help you gentlemen?” I say, holding my knife to the side.

Within seconds the light from all four guns is shining in my face. Once they get a good look, that one I assume is the leader lowers his weapon before he speaks. “What are you doing in here?”

“Looking for a friend. Tall guy. Well spoken. Kind of an asshole,” I say. “Oh, and he likes to carry around a glowing glass ball.”

“Drop the knife and put your hands where we can see them.”

“Not going to happen,” I say. “My friend caught me with my pants down once. It won’t happen again.”

“Last chance, asshole. Drop the knife.”

I’m stuck in a moral conundrum. Part of me wants to take out these guys and get back to our search, but the other part knows that they are just here doing their job.

What is left of the military was assigned to policing and patrolling the area, looking for troublemakers. No doubt they were close enough to hear the commotion when we crashed through the skylight and came in to investigate.

I opt for the second choice and place the knife on the ground. Behind me, I hear Nal do the same with his gun, which surprises me. I half expected him to go down, guns blazing

“Now back up from the weapons,” the man says. “Slowly.”

I stifle a laugh as I do what he requests. If he only knew half of what I am capable of he would want me in front of that knife, not behind it.

The leader speaks again once we are far enough away from the weapons. “What I want to know is, how did you melt the lock? It takes a lot to melt tempered steel.”

“Does it look like we are wheeling around an acetylene torch?” I say. “The lock was melted before we lifted the gate.”

“What are you really looking for in here?”

“Me,” Rick says as he appears behind the men.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

- 15 -

 

 

 

 

 

 

Rick impales two of the soldiers before they even have a chance to turn around. As a demon, Belial was given the gift of speed. Some people may consider that a disadvantage compared to throwing lighting or creating fire, but they would be gravely mistaken.

If you have ever seen the old Flash series on TV, you would understand. While he isn’t going to run a marathon in a matter of seconds, he isn’t the type of guy you want to face in a fist fight.

One shot is all the men manage to get off before Belial finishes off the last, and it was more a reactionary death shot than one that actually threatened the demon.

As each of the men dies, I can feel Eunie starting to stir in my chest. Normally, I wouldn’t think anything about it considering that I’m staring down probable death. But it only kicked in once the men were dead.

“Killing is such dirty work,” Belial says, cleaning the blade off with a strip of cloth he pulls out of his pocket.

“For someone that doesn’t like it, you seem to do an awful lot of it,” I say, tilting my head behind me.

“Indeed.” He kicks my knife back at me. “Now that the secret is out, I prefer to fight my real enemies on even footing.”

“You, honorable?” I laugh. “I didn’t see you fight Zeke straight up.”

“If I was as powerful as an angel, I would fight everyone on even ground. Until then, I kill them any way I can.” He laughs, pointing the sword in my direction. “Thanks for the blade. It has been… handy.”

“Let’s just take this fucker down,” Nal says. “I’m tired of hearing his voice.”

“Still sour over the hostile takeover, Roman? I thought you would appreciate my way of doing business. After all, isn’t that how you gained control?”

I hold my hand back, hoping Nal doesn’t do something stupid. If he so much as looks at the gun, Belial will kill us in about three seconds without so much as a second thought.

“I would like to make you a proposal, Mitch. You fight me one on one to the death.”

“What’s the catch?” I say.

“No catch. Just know that if Roman, or the bitch, so much as looks at me funny, I will kill you all.”

“Tempting offer. Really it is. But, I’m going to have to pass.”

“Perhaps you need a little persuasion.”

Before I can blink I hear Sara screaming for help behind me. I turn around in time to see him holding the sword to her throat. “Duel me now, or the bitch dies. Your call.”

What choice do I have. There is only one way out of this mess and that is to kill him. Anything short of that and we all die.

BOOK: Reaper: The Demontouched Saga (Book 3)
3.52Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

Other books

La herencia de la tierra by Andrés Vidal
New Moon by Rebecca York
Texas Fall by RJ Scott
Dream Shadow by Mary Wine
The Forgotten Story by Winston Graham