Echoes of the Past

Chapter Four

One of these days I’m gonna have to learn to be more specific.

Johnson and Castor gave me a ride all right, but it sure wasn’t home. As far away from my house as possible, but still within the city limits, they dropped me off at the very edge of downtown. The fact they stopped short of Old Town was telling.

Castor barely slowed the van before Johnson pushed me out the side door and onto the sidewalk. I stumbled and nearly fell into a homeless camp, narrowly missing someone’s cardboard mansion before I caught my balance. My graceful dismount earned me a half dozen verbal lashings and one crooked finger raised in my honor. It wasn’t the correct one, but old boy only had two fingers. I couldn’t hold it against him. He got his point across well enough.

The DSI flunkies roared off, kicking up dust, further pissing off the local indigents-and of course, Johnson kept my gun. Life wouldn’t be the same if I didn’t lose at least one a week.

After smoothing things over with the homeless folks, a twenty spot going a long way toward buying peace, I headed off. I’d only managed a few sips off my beer before I was so rudely shot in the head, and I was definitely thinking I could use one now. My plans ruined by yet another unscheduled waylaying, I figured I’d find a halfway decent bar, which didn’t water down their drinks, and see if I could get Karra to come and join me. Far as I knew, she still had no clue I was back. It was time to remedy that and get some welcome home loving.

It took a while before I found a place that carded the roaches before letting them in, though I didn’t notice whether they charged them cover. Guess it didn’t matter since I wasn’t planning on staying all that long.

The place was called HoJo’s, but judging from the mural that covered the side wall of the building, which depicted a lanky guy dressed in a purple suit with a gaggle of scantily clad and unnaturally busty women at his feet, you could probably reverse the name and it would fit. It was a charming little establishment, which clearly raised the property values in the neighborhood. It certainly went out of its way to provide its clientele with a comprehensive list of amenities to satisfy their full range of entertainment interests.

A guy dressed in an extra, extra long sports jersey and bright yellow shorts stood outside peddling drugs while a couple of homely hookers took up residence at the corner. They flagged down all the cars that passed by; all two of them. There was even a payphone on the wall.

I dug in my pocket for some change and had to make a quick decision as to which of the three services I should buy with the handful of nickels I pulled out. I almost didn’t have enough to use the phone.

Change in hand, I convinced the druggie I’d smoked my daily ration of crack already and didn’t need any more, and bulled my way past the working girls to the payphone. Best of all, it worked. I popped the coins into the slot and kept my eye on the dealer and the ladies in the reflection of the big glass window, which framed the front of the bar. It was smudged and covered in things I didn’t have the courage to identify, but with a view of the world behind me, I didn’t have to worry about being mugged.

The receiver dinged every time I fed a coin, and I waited as the phone processed the amount, and then gave me an emaciated dial tone. I reached up to punch in Karra’s number when a shimmering light fell over me, nearly blinding me with the reflection from the window. I spun around to see a figure hurl a ball of fiery blue energy. It screamed straight toward me.

Too late to get out of the way, I willed my magic to protect me as the hookers and dealer scattered. A wall of energy popped into place right before the ball hit. The thing exploded as it collided with my shield. It felt like a bucket of hammers fired from a cannon. Dozens of impact points slammed across my body and crumpled me into a ball, the force hurling me backwards. I hit the window and smashed through it. Shards of dirty glass sliced my skin worse than if I were being felt up by Edward Scissorhands.

The patrons inside the bar screamed and scrambled for cover as I bowled them over. Tables and bodies went flying, my wayward tumble causing me to commit the terrible crime of alcohol abuse in mass quantities. Dionysus would be so pissed. I hit the ground and rolled, pieces of broken bottles and wooden splinters grinding into my already shredded flesh. Fortunately, the antique jukebox against the far wall took pity on me and stopped my momentum. My skull rang from the collision with its steel frame, but it was just my luck the Lady Gaga song played on without skipping a beat.

I got to my feet and brushed away some of the wreckage while I willed my power to life. No gun, I was gonna have to wing it, and I wanted to be ready.

“Go out the back,” I yelled at the folks in the bar as they got to their feet. They were dazed and confused, but the sudden appearance of a glowing figure floating outside the shattered window reinforced my words. They bounded over the broken tables and made a mad dash for the back door.

I could feel the power emanating off the figure as it watched me from outside. The drunks weren’t the only thing scrambling for the rear exit.

Human-ish, but formed entirely out of mystical energy, the figure-which I guessed was a specter, a spirit leashed and turned semi-tangible-had the body of a man but the head of a Jackal. Dressed in Egyptian garb, flowing Schenti leggings and sandals, it was naked from the waist up except for an ankh-shaped necklace, which looked like it was made out of poorly hammered gold. It carried an oaken and decorated staff that it held at the ready. The specter looked vaguely familiar, but damned if I could place it beyond its general mythos. It was Anubis or Set; one of the puppy gods.

A low growl rumbled from its throat. It hovered a couple feet off the ground, but the specter probably stood about six feet and change. Thin and wiry, it crooked its fingers to draw me out.

“Do you work for the DSI?” I asked.

Another blue fireball was my answer. Since I saw it coming this time, it was easier to avoid. I ducked low and dove toward the window. The magical energy flew past and exploded behind me, engulfing what was left of the bar in shimmering flames. I breathed a sigh. Fortunately, everyone had taken my advice. The place was empty.

“Was that a yes or a no?” I couldn’t recall having pissed off any Egyptians recently, so I was more than a little curious why Mutzilla was trying to take my head off.

I rolled through the wreckage and leapt out the empty window frame as the specter hurled more fire about. In the street, I ducked behind a parked car and cast a quick glance around. The specter followed.

Downtown was a graveyard. Baalth’s premature incineration and the recent storms had the whole town spooked. At the first hint of supernatural hijinks, everyone within spitting distance disappeared; except for me, of course. At least that meant I’d be the only one to die if I didn’t take the specter out. That was just one more heroic quote in a long line of possible epitaphs waiting to be engraved on my headstone. Whoever buried me was going to have a hell of a time choosing one.

The roof of the car went up in flash, black smoke swirling as the vinyl top burst into flame. Once more I jumped away, my eyes scanning for anyone else who might be around before I was forced to engage the spirit. No more than puppets, specters were the equivalent of a supernatural video game. Whoever summoned it, and held its leash, controlled its actions. More often than not, the summoner was the weaker of the pairing, the energy needed to tether the spirit but a fraction of that possessed by the specter.

People with real power didn’t need to hide behind such magical parlor tricks. Why send a poodle to do a pit bull’s job? That said, I couldn’t risk get caught up tangling with the spirit. They only take a little bit of concentration to control, so, while I was busy scrapping with the sock puppet, I could be taken out by its master.

As quick as I could, I unleashed my senses, but the specter didn’t give me time to decipher anything. Its wooden staff whistled in the air above and I just barely got out of the way. It clacked against the asphalt, a burst of heat following in its wake. The blacktop bubbled, drops of scalding tar flung about as the specter whipped its staff back to ready.

I grinned. At range, tossing fireballs at me, the specter could have kept me on the defensive, giving me the hot foot until it wore me down. Up close, that was a different matter. Certain I couldn’t hurt with my bare hands, it was time to improvise. Still a novice with my newfound magical powers, I didn’t have a lot of experience at using them on the fly. Fortunately, magic is all about imagination and willpower, and I‘ve plenty of both.

Falling back on what I do know, I closed on the specter and threw a left hook, right straight combo, willing my power to envelop my hands like mystical boxing gloves. Well, more like comfy-fitting cinderblocks. My left crashed into the specter’s jaw. It felt like punching a ’57 Chevy, but its head snapped to the side, and it stumbled back a step. My right caught it flush on its cheek and sent it flying.

The staff tumbled from its hand and vanished in a crackle of energy as the specter hit the ground. The spirit slid a few feet across the asphalt, roaring as it dug its fingers into the blacktop and brought itself to a stop. Before it could get up and resume its ball-tossing, I followed after it. A shield of energy encasing my right foot, all the way up to the knee, I soccer kicked the specter in its head. My shin went numb when it hit, a crack of thunder sounding at impact.

I struggled to keep my balance as the specter was flung into the air, shrieking. It tumbled head over heels, about ten feet up, but the thing wasn’t out just yet. With nothing resembling aim, it loosed blue fire from its hands, eyes, and mouth. Tendrils of power spewed in every direction like a teenage boy experiencing his first erection. Too much magic being flung about, I ducked behind a car to wait it out. I heard the meaty thump of the specter hitting the ground, but the assault continued.

All around me the street was taking an ass-whuppin’. Bolts of energy tore into the nearby buildings, blasting through stone and cement. Windows shattered across the block, a storm of rock and glass raining down. It felt like I was romancing a fire ant mound, millions of fiery bites erupting across my skin. Car alarms screeched, adding to the avalanche din of collapsing building facades.

It didn’t take me but a second to realize I couldn’t sit back while the specter leveled the block. I threw a shield over me like an umbrella and jumped from behind the car. The specter was getting to its feet, a feral grin on its face. It clearly had no intention of stopping its barrage, though it did seem intent on zoning in on me.

Wishing I had my gun, though not really sure it could even hurt the thing, I improvised. I flung a fistful of magic at the specter, willing it to explode like jagged buckshot. Sharp spears of power ripped through the specter and drove it onto its heels. It crashed into the crumbling wall at its back, bringing pieces of it down around it. The specter growled and swatted the falling debris away. That gave me all the time I needed.

My fist once more encased in energy, I shaped it into the form a spike and threw an overhand right with everything I had. The spirit looked up at me as I closed. I sunk the point into its widened eye. My hand tore through its skull and the specter vanished in a disappointing crackle of energy. My fist crashed into the building, with the spirit gone, and sank in to the shoulder. Unable to stop my momentum, I turned my face just before the wall scraped away a couple layers of skin from my cheek and chin.

Not exactly an Einstein moment, I was too worried about the specter’s master to care how stupid I looked. I yanked my arm out of the wall and scurried away as the front of the building collapsed in a roar of crumbling stone. A choking cloud of cement dust followed, obscuring my vision. Back in the street, the ground trembling beneath me, I covered my mouth and nose against the cloying smoke and turned my senses loose. I caught a flicker of magical energy that faded just as I caught a whiff, leaving the scene empty of anyone supernatural besides me.

After a few minutes, the dust settled, and I was able to see just how much damage the specter had caused. It was substantial. The bar was in shambles. The plate glass window was gone, as was the door, and half the front wall. Small fires flickered inside and black smoke wafted out of the building. The shops next door hadn’t fared much better. Neither had the small video store across the street. A single story shack, it hadn’t survived the brawl. DVDs and VHS tapes were scattered about in the ruin of the store, twisted and mangled amidst the rubble. Shredded paper and ruined movie signage was scattered across the wreckage.

Sirens sounded in the distance and my heart sank. It probably wouldn’t be long before the DSI goons showed up. For all I knew, the specter could have been one of them. Regardless, given what they’d find, I had no doubt they’d see it as sufficient justification to put another bullet in my head. I didn’t want to be anywhere around when they arrived, but I knew I needed to do what I could to minimize the damage. Humanity was on shaky footing when it came to supernatural shenanigans. I couldn’t blame them, but I damn sure didn’t want to be the poster boy for the anti-demon movement.

I glanced around looking for a way to contact DRAC when I spied the pay phone I’d tried to use earlier. The receiver swung at the end of the silvery cord, but the phone was still in one piece. I went over to it and lifted the receiver to my ear. The crackle of a faint dial tone sounded inside. It still worked.

You don’t get that kind of service with a cell phone.

I couldn’t help but laugh as I dialed one of the toll-free contact numbers for DRAC and fed the answering service the codes that would mobilize a cleanup crew.

Sirens growing louder, I crawled off and found a seat on a nearby roof to watch the emergency crews roll in.

It was turning out to be one hell of a day.