Spires of Infinity (27 page)

Someone shoved his knife at him and he fumbled at it out of its sheath, thinking his chances would be better if only his ears would stop ringing.

“Wingless,” he muttered as he stumbled toward one of the black rings painted on the floor. The bloodstains seemed more ominous now than ever.

Nothing happened. Several possibilities swam through Gabriel’s addled brain.

Either the blow to the head had broken the connection to his brain, the Sa’Dhi was broken, or it couldn’t be used again so soon. Glancing at his other Sa’Dhi, he suppressed a groan. He could barely stand, and the one thing he’d been riding so far was lost to him.

All he had were a few flashy tricks he’d saved in the other Sa’Dhi. There was no way they were going to be enough to fight off nine guys, even if they came at him one at a time.

“Halo,” Gabriel muttered, and immediately felt some of his dizziness and

sluggishness fading away as the field log Sa’Dhi activated. The ground stopped swaying, his thoughts cleared somewhat. His head still felt like an old-timey blacksmith was using it for an anvil, but he was steady enough to hopefully not get himself poked full of holes before he thought of a way out of this.

Swaying to give the appearance of still being addled, Gabriel stood in the circle across from Rhys, who sneered and twirled his spear menacingly. The other eight men surrounded them to make sure that Gabriel didn’t run. He’d never get a fair fight with his opponent’s far longer reach. He might as well bend over and take it up the ass without a fight!

“Fight,” the Chosen One cried.

Without wasting a single second, Rhys darted forward, his spear jabbing with

lightning speed. Gabriel stumbled back into one of the men surrounding the circle to avoid it and was pushed roughly toward the spear point for his trouble. Grabbing onto the rusty blade at the tip, he pushed it aside at the last second. The blade was so dull that it didn’t even cut through his glove.

Waiting for Rhys to jab at him again, Gabriel sidestepped and brought the black bladed knife down on the haft of the crude spear with all of the strength that he could muster. It sheared right through the wood as if it was butter. Staring at his bisected spear, Rhys didn’t even notice when Gabriel shoved the knife through his larynx.

The encircling men cheered as Rhys fell dead, spreading a pool of blood. His

body was pulled to the edge of the circle and left there unceremoniously, leaving a bloody smear on the ground.

Looking past the men surrounding him, Gabriel saw Sam watching fearfully. It

was then that a very strange realization struck him. It seemed as unlikely as could possibly be, but he loved her. She was the complete opposite of the dull, stupid, and submissive women he’d liked before his fateful meeting with a Greyhound bus. And yet that was what had made him think of her as a person rather than an object. She was exactly what he’d needed to fix something inside of him that he’d never known was broken, and he loved her for it.

Beyond Sam, the Chosen One grinned broadly, thoroughly enjoying the show as

another man, nearly twice Gabriel’s size took Rhys’ place in the circle. He sported a crossbow in one hand and a rusty cutlass in the other. Raising the crossbow, he fired before Gabriel could protest.

Diving aside, Gabriel hit the ground hard as the crossbow bolt struck the man

behind him in the chest. Rolling to break the fall, Gabriel looked over to see the man staring at the bolt in his chest before falling over backward dead. As he started to push himself back up, Gabriel found himself lying against Rhys’ dead body, and more importantly against the two grenades still attached to his belt.

“I can’t be this lucky,” he muttered as he yanked the pins from the two grenades, and leapt to his feet, tossing them aside.

He dashed with all the speed his ailing body could muster toward the hole in the encircling men left by the one that had been shot. He angled toward where Sam stood to one side of the stairs leading up to the Chosen One’s dais.

“Get down,” he shouted at her, tackling her to the ground against the stairs,

hoping that they’d gave them enough cover from the explosion.

When the explosion came, the ground shook hard. The shockwave hit him hard,

feeling much like doing a belly flop onto a brick wall. Every muscle and bone in his body felt the jolt, and it knocked the wind out of him.

Wheezing for breath, Gabriel checked quickly to make sure that Sam was all

right. Coughing weakly, she looked up at him with wide eyes. Obviously, she had no idea what had just happened.

Pulling himself to his feet on watery legs, Gabriel surveyed the damage caused by the grenades. The metal flooring was dented and scorched black. Several of the men had been torn to pieces. Only one was left alive, pulling himself to his feet and looking at the carnage with disbelief.

Gabriel didn’t give him any time to recover. Ignoring his hurts he strode over to the man with knife in hand.

“Knife,” he said one of the keywords he’d programmed into the field log, and felt it take over. His body moved in the prerecorded fashion. Slashing at the lone survivor to disarm him, Gabriel spun around and planted his blade in the center of his chest before whipping it out again and bringing it back up to a ready stance.

Seconds later the Sa’Dhi reached its time limit and Gabriel felt most of his

strength flood out of him. His legs folded under him, dropping him to the floor hard. He felt as though he’d just run seven marathons back to back. His broken rib stabbed sharply, his sprained ankle sent jolts of pain up his leg with every beat of his heart, and his head felt as through a small animal was trying desperately to burrow its way out of it, but he was alive, and so was Sam.

“What in the hell was
that
,” Sam cried, getting to her feet and checking Mister Mittens over before letting him climb onto her shoulders.

“Grenades,” Gabriel wheezed.

“If you had grenades all this time why didn’t you use them sooner,” Sam yelled angrily, planting fists on hips.

“They weren’t mine,” Gabriel pointed to the dent in the floor. “They were on his belt.”

“Guards,” the Chosen One screamed. He was peeking out from behind his throne

and jabbing his finger down at a blue button on the arm for all he was worth.

Forcing himself back to his feet, Gabriel staggered almost drunkenly toward Sam.

Rather than throwing her arms around him as he expected, she pulled back a fist and punched in square in the jaw so hard he saw stars again. Unfortunately, Sam did
not
hit like a girl.

When he was able to pull himself back to his senses he glared at her, massaging his jaw. “What in the hell was that for!”

“Didn’t I tell you never to call me Samantha,” she glared at him. “And if you were going to use that guy’s grenades couldn’t you have let me know beforehand, or done it sooner or something!”

“Oh shut up,” Gabriel grabbed her upper arm with one hand and pulled her close.

They looked into each other’s eyes for a long moment, strange emotions running through each of them. Neither of them seemed to know what to do next.

“Guards,” the Chosen One screamed again, more frantically this time, breaking

the magic of the moment. “
Guards
!”

He was still jabbing down at the blue button, probably a communicator of some

sort, but nothing was happening.

“And
you
,” Sam snarled, limping toward the Chosen One with her bushy tail bristling and lashing in anger. Her growl was so animal, Gabriel wouldn’t have believed it came from a human throat if he hadn’t seen for himself.

The boy froze, staring at her with glassy eyed fear.

“Y-you aren’t s-supposed to come u-up here,” he stuttered.

Raising her hand high above her head, Sam let it hang there for a few seconds to build expectation before she let it fall. The slap resounded through the otherwise silent room.

“You do
not
treat women like that,” she screamed at the boy, who fingered at a reddening patch on his cheek.

Sam slapped the Chosen One again. If anything it sounded like she hit him harder this time. “
You do not treat women like that
!”

This slap knocked the kid to the floor where he began bawling like a baby

between cries for help. Dropping onto the throne, Sam jerked the boy over her knees, forcing him still with a handful of his greasy hair. Then she started to spank him with her good hand. Howling with indignity, he struggled to free himself, but it was futile. As she continued, his cries changed more from anger to pain.

Screaming unintelligibly, Sam spanked her probably half brother for a very long time. Gabriel left her to it, as it was far less than the kid deserved, and Sam needed to work off the anger and fear from her captivity. Retrieving his guns, he buckled them on.

His clothes were a gory mess, and soaked through with sweat. If only he had his saddlebags so he could change into his spares. There was also a first aid kit that both of them needed desperately.

Stepping onto the stage, Gabriel plopped down to try and recover some of his

strength. Looking over the edge of the dais, he considered whether or not he wanted to vomit. His stomach was churning, but heaving would set his broken rib aflame. Which would be more objectionable: the pain or the queasy feeling? He couldn’t decide. He was completely beat, and they still had to find a way back out. At least they had a very important hostage.

Sam finally finished and rolled the Chosen One off her thighs onto the ground

where he lay on his back crying uncontrollably. Panting, she looked like she wanted to start strangling the kid, but restrained herself.

“You want me to be your mother,” she growled. “That’s your first lesson. You do something bad and I wail on you. Now stop crying or I’ll
really
give you something to cry about!”

Chapter 23: Initiative Six Six Six

“What now,” Sam asked breathlessly.

“Well,” Gabriel replied. “He’s just a kid, we can’t kill him.”

“I
know
,” she sounded absolutely infuriated over the fact.

“You can’t kill me,” the boy began laughing maniacally, tapping the jagged

surgical scar on his chest. “I’m the Chosen One. No one can kill me!”

“I beg to differ,” Mister Mittens said. “Kill him, Gabriel. It’s better than he deserves. You’re afraid to kill a child? What are you, a pussy? Have you forgotten everything this brat is responsible for?”

“Being called a pussy by a cat,” Gabriel muttered. “That’s a new one. Shut up, cat! He’s just a kid. He doesn’t know any better.”

“You can’t kill me,” the Chosen One sang, “because if you do, you’ll die too.”

“What are you spouting, boy,” Mister Mittens hissed.

“They put something in my chest when I was born. If my heart stops beating, it sends a signal to the computer and this place gets filled with gas. No one lives if I die!”

The Chosen One began rolling on the floor, laughing.

With mild amusement, Gabriel placed a boot on the kid’s chest, pinning him to

the ground and pushing the air from his lungs. The silver spur on his heel drew blood.

The kid tried to laugh again, but found he couldn’t with the pressure from Gabriel’s boot, so he contented himself with glaring.

Drawing one of his pistols, Gabriel pointed it at the kid, pulling the hammer back with his thumb. The click of it locking into place echoed through a very sudden and deep silence.

“But you’ll die,” the kid’s eyes widened in renewed fear.

“If you don’t tell me exactly where to find all the stuff your boys stole from me when they kidnapped Sam, I’m going to blow your head off and find out what happens.

Things don’t look like they work too well down here anymore, I think I’ll take my chances. Care to test your luck?”

Staring up the gun barrel, the kid shook his head emphatically.

“Where are our things?”

“Probably still with your animals at the stable on the north edge of the surface town. If they haven’t been butchered yet for the meat, anyway.”

“And how do we get out of here?”

“Green button,” the Chosen One pointed to his throne. “It opens the elevator to the surface behind my throne.”

Gabriel nodded to Sam and she pushed the button. Part of the wall slid aside

revealing a small elevator.

“You’re going to trust an elevator down here,” Mister Mittens asked as he leapt up to the arm of the chair and then onto Sam’s shoulder.

“Look cat, I don’t know if you’ve been paying attention, but I’m almost out of ammo, and I’ve done enough killing to last twenty lifetimes. Getting in here almost killed me and I’m not too keen on fighting my way back out again.”

“Fair enough,” the cat shrugged, another gesture that looked decidedly odd

performed by a cat.

“We’re just gonna go,” Sam said quietly. “And leave the Children for the next unwary travelers to come along?”

“If you want to slaughter everyone that’s left you go right ahead, but me, I’m getting the hell out of here as quickly as possible.”

“Yeah, I guess you’re right,” Sam said with a deep and reluctant sigh.

Dropping to one knee, she glared into the Chosen One’s face. He tried to flinch back from her, but there was nowhere for him to go.

“Listen to me, you little turd! Women are people, not objects for you to give away as gifts. You will
never
treat women like that again or your older sister is gonna come back here and rip your balls off with her bare hands. Understand? You are
not
the Father Sun. You do
not
dictate who lives and who dies. And you do
not
, treat women as playthings!”

She finished off by hawking up what sounded like one monster of a loogie and

spitting it in the kid’s face.

Pressing down with his boot one last time for good measure, Gabriel lifted his foot and offered Sam his hand. She accepted and he pulled her to her feet, gesturing toward the elevator with a bow. Giggling merrily, she limped toward it.