Reaper: The Demontouched Saga (Book 3) (6 page)

And this is why he is a boss and I’m just a grunt. I’m a huge fan of just doing things the easy way, but when you think about it, his way has its merits. Wouldn’t work for me though. You would actually have to remember what you put where. I’m bad with that shit.

Nal enters the room’s closet and fumbles around. “Do you hear that?” he says, putting his ear to the wall. “Sounds like someone is in there.”

I follow suit and place my head on the wall. It is hard to make out, but someone definitely is talking on the other side of the room. Damn shame they built these rooms to be soundproof. I’d love to hear what these assholes are talking about.

“What do you think?” Nal says. “We only have one door between us and the stairs if you want to try the hall.”

“Wouldn’t work. They had the second floor hall guarded pretty well when I came in. I’d bet they have them all watched.”

“Then the only other option is through whoever is in the room.”

“You know my vote.”

Nal cracked a smile and got back to working on the wall. I didn’t need to tell him to do it quietly, but I hope that the switch cooperates. It takes him a few minutes before the wall gives, opening up into the neighboring closet.

He drops to the floor, I’m guessing to get an idea on what’s on the other side. He stays there a few minutes before he gets back to his feet.

“Looks like three of them unless someone is on the bed asleep.”

As long as the three in the other room are all humans, this fight should be easy. You can triple those odds if Rick was dumb enough to let someone on this floor with any form of metal.

“Better let me go first,” I say. Its not that I don’t trust Nal’s ability in a fight, but I can easily disable one or two of them before they know what’s going on. I crack the closet door and see that this is going to be one of those fights.

I signal to Nal with my fingers.

Three.

Two.

One.

I push open the door and focus on the knife on the counter. Not just any knife, mind you, these idiots decided to keep my demon killing knife down the hall from me. I thrust my hand to the right which sends the blade right into the chest of one of the men. He grunts slightly as the impact sends him into the wall.

One down.

If there is one downside to my ability, it’s that I have the tendency to put way more power into it than is necessary. This becomes evident when I can’t retrieve my knife from the man’s chest. One of these days I’m going to have to work on this, but right now I concede that my knife is going to be stuck in his rib cage for a while longer.

I square up to the biggest of the two thugs in the room, trying not to laugh at his Rollie Fingers mustache. There is a whole culture of people who used to go to mustache grooming competitions, I just never thought I would ever run into one.

Rollie takes a swing at my head, which I easily duck. Out of the corner of my eye, I notice the other thug’s foot coming close to my body. Thanks to Nal’s timely tackle, the blow doesn’t connect.

I give Rollie’s abs a few quick blows to his abs as I make my way back upright. Besides his mustache, his other defining feature is his broad chest which gives me a nice large target. Though, if my punches so much as fazed him, he doesn’t show it.

He moves in for his own tackle, which I easily dodge. If there is one good thing about fighting a guy this big is that they don’t tend to be the fast ones. There are always exceptions, but most of those used to end up in the NFL.

I turn by body to keep the big man in front of me. On the ground behind him I notice Nal on the receiving end of a nasty beating. Part of me wishes I had taken his man, but he wouldn’t have stood a chance against mine.

Just keep him busy for a couple minutes, pal. I’ll get us out of this mess.

With my attention diverted to the fight across the room, Rollie connects with a vicious right hook to my cheek. The only reason I’m still awake is that I saw it at the last second and roll out of the way.

I finish my spin and notice Rollie pushing himself off of the bed. Apparently, he put something extra into his punch and it sent him off balance. Sensing an opportunity, I kick him in the ribs. Once again, if he felt the blow, he sure isn’t acting like it.

He takes a few steps back before telegraphing another haymaker I easily dodge. Before I can move in for another set of jabs to his abdomen he lifts his big meaty knees, catching me in the chin.

I try to keep my balance, but my limbs just won’t cooperate and I end up dropping to the ground like a sack of potatoes. Rollie is on top of me long before I can get back to my feet. Apparently, this big bastard can move when he tastes blood in the water and my lip just so happens to be gushing blood onto the floor.

I can feel the darkness begin to coarse through me. The only thing that is keeping me from accepting it is having Nal in the room. Barring that, there is nothing in this hotel I care enough about to stop Eunie. I want to look over at Nal to let him know he is on the clock, but instead I put my arms up to protect my head.

Rollie is wailing on me with reckless abandon. I’m blocking the most severe blows, but only a matter of time until he gets off a lucky shot. I’ve watched enough UFC matches in my time to know that this is one of the worst positions to be in during a fight. There are a few ways to counter your opponent in my spot, but I doubt they would work against a big guy like Rollie. That doesn’t keep me from wrapping my legs around his chest and trying to pull him over with them.

As I expected, the move doesn’t work. There is simply too much weight for my legs to shift.

After nearly a minute of being pounded on, I’m struggling to keep it together. My arms are hurting to the point of probably being fractured and my cheeks sore from the blows that made it through. I can only hope that Nal is either dead or at least unconscious because Eunie doesn’t really care. If you are alive and in the room, you are going to get fucked up.

Rollie stops taking swings at me only to grab my wrists and pin them to the ground. “Time to die, little man,” he says.

He lets go of my left wrists to wind up his killing blow. I put my arm up in a feeble attempt to block it, but I know it won’t do any good. Time slows down as he brings his fist forward. I close my eyes to prepare for the hit, knowing it is going to come.

An eternity passes, or so I believe, before I feel the pressure on my right wrist ease. I open my eyes and see Rollie reaching behind his back, almost like he is trying to pull something out of his back. Nal’s head pokes over the man sporting a wicked grin on his otherwise bloodied face. Whatever hell I’ve been through the last couple minutes, he looks like he has been through much worse.

“It is time to die, fucker.” Nal spits on Rollie’s face before pushing him off to the side.

“Thanks for the save,” I say as I take his hand.

“Save it for later, we still need to get out.” He wipes my knife off on the bedsheets before handing it to me. “Try not to lose this next time.”

“Can’t make any promises.”

Nal walks over to the wall and looks for the latch, leaving his bloody hand prints all over it. I search the thugs and find a pair of pistols on the two smaller guys. By the time I search Rollie and grab his phone, Nal has found the latch.

“You better take one of these,” I say, handing him a gun.

“Ready?” He releases the safety to his weapon. He notices my nod and pushes the passage open. Within seconds we are in the hallway, he is training his gun downstairs. I have mine upstairs. “Let’s get the hell out of here,” he says as he heads downstairs.

We make the trek down, all five stories, back to back. He stops at the bottom and plays with the wall again.

“Another one here?” I ask.

“Like I said, I wanted an easy escape if things went wrong.”

I don’t question him any more. The mere fact that he had these installed for just this situation has me speechless for the first time in weeks. The only thing I want to do is get back to a safe place and take a nice long shower.

I hear the click of success a moment before the light from outside hits my eyes. It feels amazing to feel the sunlight on my skin after the last few days. Having always been an indoor person, I never thought I would be so glad to be outside.

We walk across the parking lot slowly. It’s either our last act of defiance, or our battered legs just not being up to running, but there is no sign that anyone notices. That may have something to do with us leaving out an unknown exit on the side of the building.

After a few minutes I can see my Expedition sitting on the road ahead. Nal puts his hand on my shoulder to celebrate our victory, as small as it is. We get in the car before I realize that I’m missing a small detail.

Nal reaches under the front console and pulls out a small black box. He slides it open to reveal a spare key to the car. “I always lose them,” he says handing it over. We share a laugh when I start up the ride.

“You picked up the big bastard’s phone, right?”

“Yeah, why?”

“Call 555-783-4425. I left those fuckers another surprise.”

I pull out the phone and dial the number. Before I can ask him what the surprise is, a loud boom rattles the windows of the car. I watch, in amazement, as flaming debris floats down from above coating the roadway. Next to me, Nal’s face is red from laughing so damn hard, I’m waiting for him to pass out.

“Never thought I’d actually get use that one.”

- 9 -

I make the long trip back to Uriel’s compound. Could have been here much faster, but I’ve been driving around the city trying to figure out how to break the news.

I have never been good with death in general. There is no way that I could bring myself to tell Uriel about Zeke unless I took some time to think about how to tell her.

It had all happened so fast. One minute they were fine, even if they were captured, and the next Zeke was gone. I can still see the tears falling from his eyes in his final moments. I had never been so glad to be knocked out until that moment.

The soldiers open the gates when they see the car. I’m glad they are working on instinct because I’m sure they would have stopped us if they had seen someone else in the car.

I pull into her driveway and put the car in park. Nal puts his hand on my leg before he gets out to stretch.

As much as I want to get out of the car, something is keeping me from moving. I feel the guilt pushing through the pit of my stomach. Before long, I can’t stop the tears. I was a teen the last time I cried like this.

It was a Friday night in the middle of August. My parents had left me at home to have a date night, a weekly tradition they got into once I was old enough to be left alone. It didn’t bother me any, it was an excuse to stay up late and play some video games.

Around nine o’clock I was starving, so I called and ordered a pizza. They always left me money for food when they went out. Mom always felt bad that they were going out to eat while they left me at home. I never told her that I was happy enough with the alone time. As long as we had a microwave pizza or two in the house, I was good. There was no way I was going to turn down Pizza Hut though.

About a half hour later, I heard a knock on the door. I put down my controller and ran to the front door.

Nine times out of ten, our neighbor Jimmy would be the one to deliver my order. He knew that my mom normally tipped well, so he would take the shot to get out of the kitchen for a half hour.

Instead of seeing Jimmy when I opened the door, there were a couple of cops. Officer Coleman and Detective Leonard. In my lifetime I have made it a goal to never know a cops name though after all these years I don’t think I’ll ever forget theirs.

Losing both parents in one night will do that to you.

After wiping off my face, I get out of the car right after Nal puts out cigarette four. I didn’t want to be a dick and get out of the car after he lit one up, but I’m not in the mood for small talk at the moment.

Sara rushes out of the door the moment I’m on the porch. If there is one thing I could really use right now is to have her in my arms. She will want to talk to me about what happened later, but she knows when I just need a hug.

“Welcome back, Mitch,” Uriel says, walking out the door. If there is one thing I don’t think I’ll ever get used to, it’s seeing Uriel parading around looking like a six year old girl. When the Rising hit, children were in the front of the line to be… evacuated, from this hell hole. So you can imagine how her appearance can still be a bit unsettling at times.

I can barely muster a smile before I have to fight off the tears. One of the unwritten rules in the ‘Man-book’ is that you are not allowed to cry where others can see you. It isn’t a problem for them to know you are, like earlier with Nal, but you just can’t do it in front of them.

Three seconds in and I’m just about ready to burn the ‘Man-book.’

“What’s wrong, honey?” Sara asks, stopping a tear from reaching my chin.

“It’s Zeke,” I say. “He didn’t make it.” I go over the whole story, from the trip downtown to being imprisoned in the hotel. While Uriel’s face is calm and collected during the whole story, Sara is having trouble hiding the horror in hers.

Uriel joins in on the hug. “Mitch, that was his fate. He knew his time was coming and knew his death would give you a chance to survive. You, standing here on my porch, is proof that he did what he must.”

I have a hard time buying into the fate bullshit. Fate is a way of telling us that we’re really not free. That the choices we make in this world are done under the illusion of freedom.

Before you give me the whole speech on the Rising, let me tell you that it was less fate and more God actually having to cash the check he wrote. You can’t have your disciples take down your word and make a promise as large as Armageddon if you aren’t prepared to do it. I doubt he really wanted to do it.

I believe the scriptures were more of a way to keep the people in line. If the threat of things ending at any moment is constantly looming over your head, you will have the tendency to do the right thing more often than not.