Authors: A.S. Fenichel
Still outnumbered fifteen to one, Asher shot rapidly as
demons rushed toward him. Careful not to accidently hit Nancy, he continued to
fire, stuffing his emotions down as he did.
The room’s occupants spun in pandemonium. Screaming, dying
beasts littered the floor, their bodies oozing black blood. Asher charged
forward, shooting more demons as he went. When he reached Nancy, he pulled a
long knife from his belt and cut the rope at her right foot. She kicked out,
catching him in the shin.
He shook her shoulder hard and put his face close to hers.
“Damn it, Nancy, it’s me,” he screamed.
“Ian?” she asked.
“No, Asher. Be still and I’ll cut you loose.”
Her eyes were wide and a little empty. She appeared not to
recognize him at first, but then he saw her come back. He cut the rope, holding
her right wrist.
“Asher?”
“Yeah, it’s me.”
“Look out!”
He saw her eyes go wide before she screamed her warning. He
turned and fired, almost at the moment she called out. The demon’s head
exploded. Asher covered his face, while stepping back to protect Nancy from the
splattering blood and rotting flesh that flew everywhere.
Cutting the last of her bindings, he caught her as she
crumpled against him.
“Can you walk?”
“I have no choice,” she said.
She made it as far as the door before she collapsed. He
helped her put his duffle over her shoulder and lifted her piggyback. Even in
the near darkness, he could see the bleeding sores around her ankles where they
were wrapped around his waist.
They traveled several miles into the desert before he
finally spoke. “We have to find a place to stop, Nance. I can’t go on like this
for much longer and we need to get some water to clean these wounds.”
“Where’s the plane?” she asked.
“Crashed.”
“I think there’s a town not far to the south. Put me down,
Asher. I’ll walk a while. I think the blood is flowing again. I can manage.”
He knew better than to argue with her when she used that
tone of voice, accentuated by her Southern drawl. She may have been born and
bred in Georgia but she was no delicate debutant. Nancy Lynn Jones’ toughness
had been part of what had always attracted Asher. Her stubbornness, on the
other hand, drove him crazy. At times like this, he wanted to shake her until she
saw reason.
He put her down gently, and when he was sure that she could
walk, he took the lead.
After a long silence she said, “I thought Ian would come for
me.”
Jealousy burned in his gut. “I’m sure he’s still out
looking. Do you want me to tie you back up on that giant head until he finds
you?”
“Don’t be angry, Ash,” she said softly.
His pace quickened, and when she couldn’t keep up, he just
kept walking.
Asher had only been twenty-one and Nancy nineteen, five
years ago when they met on the Avenue of the Dead after the battle that had
hurled Mictlan from Earth. Ian Scott and Aileen Grant had saved the world.
Their love for each other had rid the world of Mictlan. Evil tried to destroy
all the good that had remained after the desolation of the End of Days. He
though Mictlan was gone forever, but now he could see they had only delayed the
Devil’s plan.
Asher had traveled with Ian and Aileen. He had become like a
brother to them, so when they settled near Teotihuacan, it seemed natural that
the three live together as a family.
Ian and Aileen had a child and a life, and though Asher
considered himself part of their family, he also resented Nancy’s obvious
affections for Ian. He had helped build her house, made sure she had food and
water and talked to her when she needed a friend. So why was it still Ian she
waited for?
Asher’s fist clenched at his side while anger simmered just
below the surface. When he finally cooled down enough to turn back, guilt
flooded him. Nancy hobbled along so far behind that he couldn’t make out her
features.
Great protector you’re turning out to be
.
Chapter Two
By the time they reached the deserted village of
Coatzacoalcos, the sky was beginning to lighten with the dawn. Nancy shivered
in the cool spring air. No birds greeted the day, leaving a feeling of dread
hanging in the air. Every muscle in her body ached due to lack of water and she
could no longer feel her tongue. Asher had not said a word in hours. She had
tried several times to talk to him, but his atypical monosyllabic answers
dismissed further conversation.
She wanted to cry, but was too tired and dehydrated to
conjure up a tear. His silence isolated her and she felt more alone than when
she’d been captured. “I put everyone in danger,” she whispered to herself.
“Stupid.”
Coatzacoalcos, like most towns after the End of Days, stood
silent. No children played in the streets. Most of the nonnative landscaping
that survived the sunless days had wilted from lack of nurturing in the arid
climate of the desert town. The cacti still survived, as did some of the
hardier foliage that was accustomed to the difficult conditions. Soon the
Spring rains would make the land come to life. Doors stood open on the
adobe-style houses and glassless windows gaped out at empty streets. In the middle
of the square stood a dry fountain and an old-fashioned well with a pump. Asher
headed straight for the pump and she followed him, saying a small prayer that
the well wasn’t dry.
He pressed several times, tentatively. Once the rusted parts
started moving more freely, he gave the device more thrust. It took several
minutes of working the handle, but eventually water sputtered, then flowed from
the spout.
Nancy fell forward, cupping her hands under the stream as
Asher worked the handle. She drank the gloriously cold water and splashed her
face.
After a minute, Asher put his hand over hers. “Not so much.
You’ll make yourself sick. Wash up and we’ll find a place to get some rest.”
His voice was kind, deep and reassuring.
She did as he told her and sat on the edge of the old
fountain, watching him drink and wash.
When she’d first met him, he’d been a kid. So had she, for
that matter. He’d been lanky and thin, with a scraggly beard and short hair.
Five years of hard work and harder times had changed a boy into a man. He wore
his hair longer and tried to keep it tied back in a ponytail but the
poker-straight brown locks always escaped around his face. She’d offered to cut
it for him on more than one occasion, but he always refused. Said he liked it,
and what did it matter anyway. Watching him now, Nancy wondered why she’d ever
wanted to cut it.
Asher was no longer that skinny boy. Though he was not as
tall as Ian, he was just as broad and muscles bulged across his chest and arms.
He tossed water over the stubble on his face and pulled his T-shirt off to use
it to scrub the grit from his face, arms and chest. Nancy gawked as his stomach
rippled with muscle. W
hen did he get so beautiful?
She shook her head to dismiss the thought.
He wet the shirt again and walked toward her. She looked up
into his dark-brown eyes and her stomach did a flip that she didn’t think had
anything to do with starvation. He approached slowly. She didn’t know if she
should run away or jump into his arms, so she just sat there gaping.
“Here,” he said. “This will help get some of the dirt off.”
He handed her the wet shirt.
“Wa…what will you wear?”
“I have clothes in my bag. Go ahead.” He thrust the shirt
into her hands.
Once clean, they searched for a safe place to get out of the
heat. Asher looked into several adobe-style houses and rejected each one until
he walked into what had looked to her like a solid wall.
Several feet away, Nancy stopped, gaping at the spot where
he’d disappeared. Immediately her thoughts went back to December of 2012, when
people just vanished from the Earth and were never seen again. She had been
left alone. Where had he gone? Had Mictlan taken Asher from her, the way the
End of Days had taken all the people she loved? Could the Lord of the Dead
snatch people from the Earth, like cookies from a jar? Her heart beat a
desperate rhythm against her breast. Sweat that had nothing to do with the
desert heat broke out across her brow and upper lip. Her throat tightened so
painfully that she couldn’t even scream.
Relief flooded her when his head popped back out he waved
her inside. The tiny adobe house had been added on to the back of another
house, hiding it from view. She had no idea how Asher had seen it. She imagined
that the place had survived the fate of the rest of the wrecked homes because
it lay out of sight of the square.
The thick walls built to keep the temperature comfortable
did the job well, leaving the inside cool. The furniture in the house—table,
chairs, bed, bookcases—were untouched except for the layers of dust. A small
fireplace with a pot hanging over the grate took up part of the near wall, and
wood was still stacked on the side of the hearth.
Asher dug into his bag and produced a pack of matches. He
dropped them on the table. “See if you can get a fire going. I’ll get some
water and see if there is anything to eat in the area.”
He didn’t even look at her as he made his way to the door.
“Asher?”
He turned back. She could see anger in his dark eyes and in
the firm set of his mouth. “Thank you for coming for me.”
His smile never touched those dark eyes. “I’m sure Ian would
have done a better job.”
“Don’t be like that.” She hated the whiney sound of her
voice.
He strode back in and stood over her, pressing her against
the table. “How should I be, Nancy? Ian is with Aileen. He’s always going to be
with Aileen. In case you didn’t get the memo, those two were predestined to be
together. They saved the world together. Nothing is ever going to change that,
so get over it because I’m sick of hearing you fawn over him.”
His words stung. Had she been fawning? Did everyone at the
settlement know about her infatuation with Ian Scott? She felt her cheeks flush
with embarrassment. Aileen was her friend. It wasn’t as if she would ever have
acted on those feelings and she knew that Ian wasn’t leaving Aileen for her.
Aileen was beautiful, talented, powerful and empathetic, while Nancy was
stubborn and impulsive. More importantly, Ian and Aileen loved each other.
Ashamed of her own behavior, she still retorted with a pout.
“I don’t fawn and I know he’s with Aileen.”
She pushed on his chest, but he didn’t move away and she
didn’t remove her hands from his thick pectoral muscles.
The wild look in his eyes mesmerized her. He was seconds
away from kissing her and she thought she might let him.
He wanted her
.
When
had that happened? This was Asher. Her friend. He wasn’t interested in her as a
woman. Was he?
She could hardly catch her breath, and he breathed heavily
too. He grasped her upper arm so hard that it almost hurt. His hand eased off
and he released her. He reached up and tucked her hair behind her ear. “I’ll
get you some water so you can get that blood out of your hair.” He spun around
and walked out the door.
Nancy found a dried cake of soap, and when Asher returned
with two buckets of water, she poured some into a large bowl so she could wash
her hair and heated a pot on the fire she’d built in the hearth.
He left to find some food and stayed away a long time. He
took his crossbow and handgun, leaving her the AK-47 just in case any demons
came sniffing around.
After what seemed like an eternity, he came in carrying
several rabbits he’d already skinned and cleaned.
She made a stew with what spices she found in the small
house. While it bubbled away, she heated water to clean her wrists and ankles.
She winced, biting her lip to keep from crying out.
Her body ached so badly, she didn’t even care about the
wounds or the stew. She was tired, sad and no closer to finding Robyn.
Nancy hadn’t even realized he’d approached until he took the
wet cloth from her hand. He pulled his chair closer and sat down facing her.
Taking her hand in his, he tenderly washed the dark abrasion at her wrist. The
wounds were painful, but everywhere he touched, her skin reacted with
surprising heat. He gave the other wrist the same treatment before moving to
her ankles. The wounds there were deeper and she pulled away at the pain of the
cloth touching her tender skin.
“I’m sorry, Nance, but these wounds have to be cleaned or
they’ll get infected.” Their eyes met for a moment before he went back to
tending her injuries.
She watched him for a long time as he quietly cared for her,
amazed how he could be angry and gentle at the same time. She knew she’d hurt
his feelings, but she didn’t know how to make amends. Since their first
meeting, she’d thought of Asher like a brother. Ian’s strong, take-charge,
impulsive nature was more her type. Though she had to admit, if only to
herself, when Asher had taken his shirt off by the well, she had felt something
not at all sisterly. Even now his sweet ministrations were alluring.
She pulled her leg away. “This is fine. Thanks.” She said it
too quickly.
He shook his head and dropped the cloth before getting up
and searching the cupboards. He opened and searched each one before slamming
the doors shut.
“What are you looking for?”
He didn’t answer. She’d obviously angered him again.
Damn
it.
Finally he pulled something from the back of a top cabinet
and returned.
“What is that?”
“Tequila.”
“I don’t think it’s a good idea to get drunk now, Asher.
Those demons could have friends.” She sounded sterner than she’d intended.
His smile made her heart beat a little faster. She ignored
it.
“Not to drink, Nance. For those cuts.”
“Oh.” She looked at the bottle. “This is gonna hurt.” She
pulled her feet up onto her chair and clutched her knees with her arms.
“I’m afraid so,” he admitted.
She took a deep breath and stretched her legs out across to
the other chair. “Do it fast, Ash.”
The wounds burned so intensely when the alcohol hit them
that her vision went black. She thought Asher must be stabbing her with hot
knives and she instinctively pulled her legs away. He held them firmly, and
when he finished with her ankles, he did the same to her wrists. She clenched
her jaw hard against the pain to keep from screaming. Then he patted the wounds
dry and pulled her into his arms, wiping the tears from her cheeks and shushing
her quietly.
After several minutes, she lightly pushed him away. “I’m
okay.”
“You were brave.”
“Crying is brave?”
“You didn’t scream. I’d say that’s pretty brave after all
that you’ve been through.” He handed her the bottle.
She took a long pull and choked. The clear liquid burned its
way down her throat. Handing it back to him, she asked, “How did you find me?”
He drank some of the tequila and put the bottle down on the
table. “I followed the road toward Chichen Itza and saw your Jeep. Then a
dragon took out the Cessna and I walked until I smelled the stink of rotting
flesh.”
“I ran out of gas,” she admitted, ashamed by her lack of
planning.
“I know. How long were you held in that town?”
“Two days.” A chill ran down her spine as she relived the
horrifying experience.
“Were there others?” He hesitated. “Did you find Robyn?”
“There was one other girl at the village.”
“But no Robyn.” He voiced her thoughts.
“She’s not dead.”
He put his hands up as if in surrender. “Okay. Tell me what
happened.”
“Demons found me sleeping in a cave three nights ago. I
should never have lit the fire, but the nights are so cold. They brought me to
that little town and held me with another girl in the museum storage building.
I fought. I used every trick you taught me, but there were too many of them.”
Her mind filled with the horrors of the past few days. She
shook it to try to clear away the images, but they wouldn’t leave. When she
closed her eyes, the specters loomed even more vivid.
Asher asked, “What happened to the other girl, Nancy?”
“Those bastards killed her,” she spat out. “Okay. Is that
what you want to hear?” She let the tears roll freely down her face. God, she
hated weakness, especially in herself. “They took her and strapped her to that
statue and cut her throat just like they were about to do to me, and I couldn’t
do anything about it.”
The memory flooded her mind in a rush of anger. She couldn’t
get the girl’s terrified face out of her mind. She remembered wanting to turn
away, but thinking that a human should bear witness to her death. When the
leader of the cell of demons sliced the girl’s throat from ear to ear, Nancy
had flinched, but had forced herself not to look away.
Another demon had cackled into Nancy’s ear, “You’ll be next,
Pretty.” Only then had she turned her head to spit in the face of the
half-rotted specter that used to be a woman.
“The next night they left me alone in a room they had
barricaded. I guess they were on some kind of timetable. I got to sleep a
little. It rained, so a leak in the roof provided water. Then last night you
came.”
Asher knelt next to her chair and wiped away the tears.
“You’re right, Nancy, you couldn’t do anything to help her. None of this is
your fault.”
His tenderness confused her. “I thought you would be angry
that I set out on my own.”
A flash of rage lit his eyes. He stood up and loomed down at
her. “I’m fucking furious with you for that. You were almost killed. You’re so
stubborn and foolish. Why couldn’t you just wait for me to get home? I would
have come with you or you could’ve asked Ian or Geoffrey to help you.”
“I didn’t want to risk anyone else and I thought I could
handle it. All I had to do was get down to Chichen Itza, find Robyn and bring
her home. The reports of demon activity haven’t been that bad. I was sure I
could avoid any demon cells and be back before anyone really missed me. The
reports were wrong. Mictlan is on the move again. I should’ve waited.