At The Gates

Chapter Seventeen

After a few minutes spent digging around in Hell, I’d rounded up Eve and confirmed a hunch. Finished with that, I used the gate in Asmoday’s cell to pop into Baalth’s office. Poe met me with a gun aimed at my head.

“I’m either experiencing deja vu or we’ve done this before.”

Poe growled and lowered his weapon. “You’ve been gone for hours. I was getting ready to come after you. What happened?”

“Got a little distracted. Oh, and I’d advise against using the gate anytime soon. In fact, I’d suggest locking it down. Turns out, you’ve got a pretty big varmint infestation down there.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Varmint?”

“Varmint, dread fiend, same thing.”

He stared at me a moment, no doubt waiting for the punch line. When he realized there wasn’t one, he sent a spike of mystical will toward the pentagram to seal the gate. Sparks glimmered along the golden lines and the lights flickered for second, then the star turned black. Finished, he turned back to me.

“Are they what killed Asmoday?”

Unsure if I should tell him about the empty case, I shrugged. “I’m not sure.”

His eyes narrowed at my answer, but he didn’t say anything. Having not been definite, even though I doubted the fiends had butchered Asmoday, he couldn’t get a bead on my true feelings.

Before he could start asking more questions, I got to my reason for being there. “Hey, you got plans for tonight?”

He looked at me and I swear I saw a flash of red color his cheeks before his mask of neutrality washed it away. “You’re asking me why, Mister Trigg?”

A once in a lifetime opportunity in my grasp, I bit my tongue and let it slip away. Damn. “We’re a little short on the Save the World Committee and I was hoping we could enlist your help.”

He swallowed deep before he answered, “What do you have in mind?”

“We’ll be storming Heaven a little later, and if you don’t have anything better to do, we’d appreciate your assistance.”

He sighed, knowing full well I was serious. “I’ll clear my calendar.”

I told him we’d swing by and pick him up when everything was in place, making it clear I didn’t want Marcus tagging along. That done, I headed for the house.

A hop, skip, and a teleport later, I was home. Chatterbox greeted me with happy giggles as I entered the living room, bouncing up and down on the table beside the couch. The TV was on and Dawn of the Dead screamed from the screen. A quick flick of the remote dropped the volume to a reasonable level.

Both Chatterbox and I grumbled at the same time, though for different reasons. He complained because I’d turned the movie down. I was annoyed because the remote was covered in zombie tongue-slime. He got the better end of the deal.

“You can turn it back up in a bit,” I said to keep him quiet, my hand unconsciously wiping the slimy, gray-green nastiness off on my pant leg.

The screams and howls of the dying and undead-those on the screen and those in my house-muted well enough I could think again, I headed for my room when there was a sudden, loud knock on my front door. Chatterbox and I whipped our heads toward the door at the same time. The security camera monitor in the foyer was filled with static, so I couldn’t see who was outside. It got me thinking.

Neck deep in paranoia, I pulled my gun out and let my senses loose. It’s not like I expected my current crop of foes to politely knock at the door, but you never know. Stranger things have happened.

My senses relayed back a lack of any substantial mystical aura, but there was a glimmer of confusion in what I felt. It was as if they couldn’t read what lay beyond the door, an uncertainty in their report. Not encouraged by that, I probed a little deeper as the knock rang out again, a little more insistent this time.

Not able to pick up anything I could construe as a magical threat, I whispered for Chatterbox to sit by the phone just in case. To be safe, I ran to my room and stashed Eve with the blood vials, then I went to answer the knock.

“Who is it?”

A muffled, but polite voice answered, saying something I couldn’t understand, though I picked out the word neighbor. Still unsure, I cracked the door open and peeked outside, my gun just out of sight and ready to go.

Two men stood there in simple black suits. My eyes instinctively went to their hands and saw they were empty and relaxed, so I drifted back to their faces. The men smiled at me in stereo.

One was dark skinned, though it seemed more from exposure to the sun than natural pigmentation, and the other was so pale I could almost see through him. Both were shaved bald and neither had the slightest hint of facial hair. Their twin brown eyes sparkled with excitement and their perfect teeth seemed to glimmer in the dim light, their smiles wide.

The shorter of the two, though neither of them could be called short-both easily six feet plus-proffered his hand.

“Mister Frank Trigg?” His voice was smooth; a salesman’s modulated tone. The use of my name sent a shiver up my spine. Once more, everyone seemed to know me, but I had no clue who the Hell they were. It was getting seriously annoying.

My glance flickered back to their hands. I’d been looking for weapons the first time, but now I was looking for pamphlets.

“Out a little late to be selling salvation, aren’t we?” At the risk of appearing rude, I didn’t take the man’s ashen hand.

He lowered it easy, not looking the slightest bit bothered, as though it happened all the time. “My name is Jonas Black and my partner here is Ethan White. We’d like you come with us.”

My eyes shifted back and forth between the two and I shook my head, trying not to laugh. Someone in their family trees had a wry sense of humor. “I’m not sure who you gentlemen are, but I really don’t have time for this right now.” The politely disguised order made me think they were government agents of some sort. If that were the case, I definitely didn’t need to be talking to them, let alone going anywhere. “Come back in a couple of days and we can chat all you want.” If the world still exists, that is.

White took a step forward, the smile still on his face. “I’m afraid we must insist.”

My finger on the trigger, I went to close the door. “Some other time, thanks.”

Jonas Black stuck his hand between it and the frame, the door thumping against his knuckles as though they were made of brick. Despite my leaning against it, he left it there and the door stayed cracked.

A quiet voice called out from the other side. “We need you to come with us now, Mister Trigg. This matter cannot wait.” There was no change in his inflection, but the words seemed somehow harder, fiercer.

No clue what these guys wanted, or who they were working for, I didn’t have time to be nice anymore. My foot against the door to hold it in place, I swept down with my pistol grip and smacked Black’s hand. It was like banging two steel pipes together.

A sharp metallic clack rang out and his hand popped free of the frame, the door slamming shut once it was out of the way. The house wards came up instantly, their energies prickling my skin as I ducked around the corner to be out of the line of fire.

Turns out that was a good idea, though not for the reasons I’d expected.

A thunderous explosion shook the house and my front door was blown off its hinges. It flew backwards down the hall and through the living room until it crashed into the adjoining kitchen wall. The impact devastated both. Shards of plaster and wood flew everywhere, a gray dust kicking up.

Chatterbox rolled for cover as the door hit, dropping off the table to cower behind the couch. I made sure he was safe before tucking my head. Then waiting until the pieces settled, I cast a glance down the hall.

The two men were out by the street, flat on their backs where the explosion of the defending wards had tossed them. Smoky whispers drifted from them as they quickly got to their feet. The house unprotected, I hunkered down and took aim.

Their smiles gone, they ran straight toward the missing door. The move was so obviously stupid, it made me wonder if there were more of them behind me somewhere, waiting for me to take the bait. They couldn’t possibly be that dumb.

“Watch my back,” I called out to Chatterbox, just in case. He moaned an affirmative.

The men closing, I waited to make sure my shots counted. Just as they reached the threshold, I put two in the chest of Ethan White. The impacts rang out as though I’d shot a steel plate.

He stumbled back into his buddy, slowing their momentum, but he didn’t fall. His lips screwed up into a crooked sneer, he caught his balance and came forward again.

Surprised by the quality of his flak jacket, it took me a second to steady my hand and put a shot into his skull. Once more the bullet rang out, metal on metal as I caught him in the forehead. White fell to his knees and wiped the protruding bullet away as though it were an annoyance. His buddy slipped past him and charged.

Suddenly realizing why they chose the direct route, I emptied the clip on Jonas as my mind scrambled for a plan. The bullets did little more than piss him off. Driven to a snail’s pace, he growled as he waded forward through the hail of fire. A smug smile broke out on his marbled face when my gun clicked empty.

The wiser of us, my asshole puckered and signaled a retreat.

To the sound of stomping feet, I stuffed my gun into my pants as I swung around the corner and headed for the back door. It crumpled on its hinges before I could make it there. White smiled at me through the ruin of the door, looking like a reject out of a Stephen King novel.

The run-n-gun approach out the window, I figured I’d take a page out of their operating manual and go through rather than around. My shoulders stooped, I barreled straight toward White, who only smiled wider at my approach. At the last second, I faked left and dodged right.

It almost worked.

White shifted toward my feint, but even off balance he managed to get his hand in the way as I ran past. It was like running into an I-beam.

A loud bell went off inside my skull and I felt my feet fly out from beneath me. A second later, my back slammed into the ground, my head following it down with a thump. My momentum slid me across the floor as wooden splinters poked me in places a Penthouse Letters reader might blush to hear about. The slide ended ten feet down the road after I’d bumped over the small doorstep and tumbled into the yard.

My eyes swum in their sockets as I stared up at the star-filled night sky. Not sure which were real and which were a byproduct of having my brain scrambled, I decided it best not to lay there and try to figure it out. Rolling over, the world swaying around me, I reevaluated that decision. It probably was best just to stay there.

Of all my bad habits, I really need to give up getting smacked in the head. I wonder if there’s a patch for that.

Black and White stood just outside the doorway, their amused smiles grating on my battered nerves. They looked down at me and White shook his head.

“Care to come with us now?”

“Yeah, I’m starting to think that might be a good idea.” White went to help me and I waved a hand at him. “I got it, just give me a second. At least let me get up on my own.”

A silken chuckle eased from his mouth as he stepped back to Black’s side. “By all means. I wouldn’t want to impugn your manhood, such as it is.”

“Thanks,” I told him, forcing a couple of coughs.

My head resting on the ground, I pulled my left knee under me and kind of leaned to the right. Hoping my body blocked my movement, I slid my hand into my right pocket. As soon as my fingers wrapped around the vial, which was miraculously intact, I slid it out and pulled my other knee up while coughing a couple more times.

“Any time now.”

“Just a sec-” Mid sentence, I broke out in a fit of coughs, my hands going to my mouth. I rolled to my side as though I were choking, and turned my back on Black and White. Almost frantic, I popped the stopper on the vial as I heard them coming toward me. With a little lean to raise my head some, I emptied the contents of the vial into my mouth and swallowed fast just as I felt their cold hands latch onto me. With a gentle push, I left the vial slip from my hand and slid it across the grass, toward my feet.

“Come on now, surely you aren’t that hurt.”

They pulled me up and held my arms, not even bothering to restrain me. I squirmed a little and stumbled forward and they tightened their grip to keep me from falling over. My feet barely touching the ground, they led me across the yard and through the gate to the front, the vial still on the grass behind us; unnoticed.

As we neared what I presumed was their black van, I felt the warm rush of Lucifer’s blood as it merged with mine. The gentle tingling ran through my veins, easing away all my aches and pains. A pleasant tickle played at my groin and I fought the urge to give in to it, knowing it was just foreplay for the mind-fuck to come. The feelings growing more intense, I clenched my teeth and waited.

Suddenly my body went rigid, my muscles screaming in agony as they surged with mystical energy. A rabid, foam-mouthed scream slipped loose from my mouth as molten lava ripped through my innards. My vision went white and I could feel myself twitching like an epileptic.

Though I couldn’t see them, Black and White held on. Snippets of their words pierced the haze of my whirling mind, but I couldn’t follow what they were saying. It was all gibberish to me, like watching Oprah.

Then just as suddenly as it hit me, the pain passed and I dropped limp in their grasp. They set me down on my knees but kept ahold of my arms. White leaned over to look me in the face.

He huffed, irritation finally tainting his smooth delivery. “No games, Trigg. Go with us peacefully or we’ll do this the hard way.”

I focused my eyes on his and broke into a wide grin. “Let’s go with the latter.”

Confusion stampeded across his face and I didn’t let it go to waste. A quick jerk of my arms pulled them around in front of me, the men crashing into each other with a kettledrum boom. They fell to the ground in a tangled mess of thrashing limbs.

Their hold on me broken, I stepped away and summoned my energies as they fought to get to their feet. Unlike before, my horse and buggy magic needing a steep hill to get going, the power roared to life like a Ferrari. The feeling was orgasmic.

Black and White, now back on their feet, eased away, clearly realizing something had changed.

“Leaving so soon? I thought you wanted to chat.”

White spun without a word and ran for the house. Black went the opposite direction, racing across the yard. Not wanting to damage my house any further, I went after Black.

Envisioning a sword, my magic complied. Made of pure mystical energy, a shimmering blade appeared in my hand, illuminating the night.

Though Black had a head start, it wasn’t much of one. A quick leap put me at his back as he scrambled to get into the van. While he dug in his pockets for the keys, I grabbed his shoulder from behind. There was a clank as my hand latched on, my fingers sinking in a little with a muffled metallic squeal.

Without hesitation, he threw an elbow at me, but with Lucifer’s blood flowing in my veins, I saw it coming. The shimmering blade of my sword met his triceps midway and cleaved clean through. His severed arm boomeranged passed to land in the yard behind me.

Black didn’t scream, but I nearly did.

I’d expected to see spraying blood and hacked up meat, but there wasn’t any of that. Instead, the stump of his arm was a solid mass, one big hunk of reflective steel. Inside the fleshy cocoon, it flowed like water, swirling in the wound. No clue what Black was, my eyes were transfixed.

He took advantage of my hesitation and yanked his shoulder free. He took another swing at me, my mind waking up, and I moved to defend, but it had been a feint. He spun and bolted down the street as I regained my balance. I watched him go. He wasn’t so fast I couldn’t catch him, but I didn’t want to waste the energy. Having used some of the blood to heal Scarlett and me a couple of times, I wasn’t sure how much longer I’d be Super Frank on the lower dosage. If White was still in the house, I was gonna need the boost.

Spurred on by the thought of powering down, I raced inside. Chatterbox whistled and hopped up and down to get my attention.

“ Dooooooooooorrrrrrrrrrrrr,” he said as I charged into the living room.

I looked to my shattered back door and let my senses go. While they hadn’t exactly been on the money earlier, I’d been able to feel Black and White. That feeling wasn’t there now. They were gone.

The timing was perfect. I could feel the magic of the blood slipping away, a subtle tiredness trickling over me. My mystical blade flickered and died, no longer needed.

Certain I didn’t want to be in the house when I came all the way down, exhaustion too mild a word to describe the feeling that awaited me, I ran to my bedroom. There, I retrieved the last of Lucifer’s blood and wrapped the vials in one of my pillowcases for safekeeping. Eve came next, then I remembered the power-dampening manacles hidden under my bed. I grabbed them and flung them over my shoulder before heading back down the hall to the living room.

My energy wavering, I picked up Chatterbox and set him on the table facing me. “Send a message to Karra. Have her meet me near the mausoleum at Rest Land as soon as she can.” Still connected to Karra through the psychic link that kept him animated, it was the quickest way to reach her. It also kept me from having to touch the zombified phone.

While he was doing that, I went outside and grabbed Black’s severed arm. It twitched as I picked it up, a subtle spasm that weirded me out, before going completely rigid. Not sure what to do with it, I really didn’t want to leave it laying around for someone to find should the world make it through the crisis. Besides that, it would make a groovy trophy. I decided to keep it, at least until I could dig up some information on the bastard it belonged to and what him and his partner wanted. It didn’t hurt to think Black would be a little easier to deal with, minus a limb.

So thinking, I added Black’s stiffened arm to my baggage and went back inside.

“You done?” I asked Chatterbox.

After a few seconds, he nodded-well, he actually rocked back and forth, but we’re talking semantics here. A black-lipped smile plastered across his face, he hopped into the pillowcase I held open and sniggered like Muttley as he got comfortable.

Through blurry eyes, I took one last look at my house. I’d lived there for over eighty years, and though the rebuild had taken some of the old charm away, it was still my home. Thinking I might never see it again, I sighed and made my way to the gate room in back. The portal powering up, me powering down, I clutched my loot tight to make sure I didn’t lose any of it in transit.

Whisked away to Chatterbox’s off-key warble of Jump in the Fire, I couldn’t help but think he was psychic.