Resurrection

Chapter Thirteen

Minutes later, Katon and I arrived in Old Town, Rahim with us. I’d asked the wizard not to come, his unhealed injuries a possible liability to his safety, but stubborn as always, he came anyway. Who was I to tell him no?

We arrived just off Fiesta Street, at the edge of the desert where tiny fires danced in the brush. Even from where we stood, the heat from the roaring flames was like sticking your face in a crematory. I felt my skin drying as I stood there, the moisture sucked right out of it. My cheeks felt like hard plastic with three day stubble, the scratches from the ghoul burning. Katon and Rahim grimaced, the heat getting even to them, as we surveyed the scene. Judging by the looks on their faces, they were thinking the same thing I was.

This was Hell.

As we decided which way to go, a cool breeze sprung up and swirled around us, shielding us from the brunt of the heat. I glanced to Rahim and saw his eyes fluttering with a bright red. Tiny droplets of sweat glistened on his forehead.

“Is that safe?”

He nodded. “It’s nothing that will tax me too seriously, rest assured.” There was sarcasm in his voice, but I could see his temple throbbing. It wasn’t as easy as he was trying to pass it off as.

“It’s rough getting old, huh?” My foot in mouth disease came out of remission.

He glared at me, but there was an obvious, and saddened, look of concession on his face. He knew his best days were past and it was hard for him to accept that. Strong, independent, and willful, Rahim had defied time and aged with a grace few mortals will ever know. Asmoday’s minion had taken all that away from him.

While my uncle’s blood was able to repair his injured spine and nerves, it wasn’t meant for humans. We’d taken a chance when I gave it to Rahim and he benefited more than we could have ever hoped. The truth was, however, Rahim was never gonna be the same man he was before his spine was shattered. We understood that, but worse for the knowledge, Rahim understood it. He understood it all too well. And like any fighter who’d lived by the strength of his hands, the speed of his body, and the sharpness of his wit, it was heart rending to see the man once he realized those days were gone.

Rather than poke the wound further, I gave him a weak smile to show I empathized, then turned to find a clear route through the swirling miasma of flames. It was easier said than done.

Whatever had happened, ignoring the obvious answer, set the neighborhood ablaze with arcane fire. Not restricted to consuming only the normally combustible materials, magical fire burned everything. Licks of flame crept up the side of stone buildings, searing brick and melting mortar. Glass windows dripped and ran down the walls in sparkling waterfalls. The asphalt beneath our feet was a pool of black slag. It was like walking through stinky, warm chocolate pudding.

I wouldn’t be licking that spoon.

Fiesta Street was a war zone. Chunks of buildings were missing, blasted into rubble. Pockmarks riddled the sidewalks and streets, where the sludge had yet to ooze over and fill in. Body parts lay everywhere, flickering with tiny fire lights, the air thick with the scent of burnt flesh and hair.

For six blocks we walked, dodging falling remnants and glass rain, doing our best to keep our eyes off the carnage scattered about us. There was nothing we could do for the dead. For the survivors, we could only hope they didn’t live long.

A little ways in, we knew we’d reached ground zero. All the buildings for two blocks were blasted away in a circle, nothing but ruined foundations left to mark where they once stood. The ground had been seared by heat so hot, it had turned to glass. Black shards, like jagged puzzle pieces, covered the area, reflecting fiery shimmers. In the center of it all, on his knees naked, his reddened flesh steaming, was Baalth.

I felt the tension in Rahim amp up, my senses pricking to the sudden rise in magical energy. With a hand raised to forestall any pre-emptive attack, I headed toward the demon lieutenant, placing myself between him and the wizard. It wasn’t someplace I wanted to be, but I’d seen the fury in Baalth’s eyes, felt the barely restrained power that seeped from his pores, seeking a way out. Now was not the time to provoke the beast.

Funny thing, life. Who’d have thought I’d be the least likely to set Baalth off?

Doing nothing to hide my presence, I walked toward him, my footsteps crunching. He didn’t move. My teeth grinding together, I took a few more steps, stopping when I was about ten feet away.

“Hey, big guy.” I tried to sound as innocuous as possible.

His head rose and his narrow gaze met mine. It took everything I had not to shit myself.

A flurry of obsidian shadows whirled behinds his eyes, sparks of angry red flaring in waves. His cheeks were sunken and his upper lip was curled, his teeth glaring out at me in a snarl. His temples throbbed as he stared through me, a low rumbling shaking the ground.

If I had any doubt he’d been the cause of the destruction, the look on his face sent it scampering away like a Chihuahua kicked in the ass.

Against the advice of the screaming voices in my head, I raised my hands and moved closer. Baalth’s gaze never wavered, but I could see his body tensing, readying to act. Fully aware of what he was capable of, my courage took a dump. I dropped down to my knees fast, while still about five feet away.

“What happened?”

He looked like he wanted to kill me. Though that wasn’t exactly something new, I was hoping he wouldn’t actually go through with it. While my life wasn’t all pussies and cream, I was kinda attached to it. If I was gonna die, I could think of a million better ways to go out than being burned to a cinder by a psychotic demon.

After a few tense moments, me not daring to breathe, his chin dropped and a visible shiver ran up his body. I felt my heart start up again.

“He’s taken them,” he told me, his voice sounding like burning coals. Once more his fists clenched tight, bone white standing out against reddened flesh.

“Who?”

A palpable wave of rage preceded his answer. “Reven.” His voice was little more than a whisper, but that one word spewed a tsunami of venom. “He’s taken my men.”

“Poe and Marcus?” While it explained the big boom, it didn’t make much sense. Then again, I found myself swallowing what Karra had told me as if it were fact. It was messing with my judgment, what little there was.

“McConnell as well.” He grunted, his teeth bared. “They retrieved the wizard from your people and were returning him to me.” He stood, a leviathan rising from a sea of anger. Flickers of crimson energy crackled at his hands. His eyes raged. “Here in my own domain, Reven’s ghouls took my men from me and I was too late to stop them.” He scanned the conflagration, his trembling hand on his chest. “From me. Here.”

The ground thundered as I got to my feet. “Easy, Baalth. Destroying everything you’ve worked to build isn’t gonna bring them back.”

He looked ready to lose it. I couldn’t blame him. Matter of fact, I was getting a little pissed myself. I wanted to trust Karra, to believe that Reven had loftier goals than how they appeared on the surface. Yet, at every corner, I stumbled upon something that only pointed toward his guilt. I was half-tempted to stir the pot and sic Baalth after Reven. It was no less than he probably deserved. The only thing keeping me from doing it was the thought Baalth would kill Karra before I got a chance to see her boobs.

Oh, and he’d destroy the world while he was at it. I guess that’s important too.

Torn, I glanced up at him as tiny surges of shimmering energy leapt from his swinging hands and danced in the air before him. I could feel their power tickle the hairs on my arms. It was like standing in the wake of a lightning bolt. It was unsettling, to say the least.

He turned and met my eyes and nodded shallow. “I can’t…” He swallowed hard, as if debating what he was willing to say. He cast a furtive glance at Rahim and Katon, then stood and stepped close so only I could hear. “I can’t control it.”

A bit uncertain of what he meant, I asked for clarification. “Can’t control what?”

He drew himself up, hesitation still etched on his face. “My magic.” He shook, rumbles echoing through the earth. “A spark turns into a blaze, a blaze into an inferno. It fights to be free. It will not be denied.”

The helplessness I heard in his voice stabbed me in the chest. I’d never once, in all my hundreds of years knowing him, ever seen Baalth as anything other than in control. Tempered by the fury of Hell and the brutality of the battlefield, he was a warrior to the marrow. He faced death boldly, never once turning a cheek as he stood toe-to-toe against the Angelic Choir. He’d decried God, laying siege to the Pearly Gates themselves without fear. Yet there he was, alone, more powerful than any being in existence, and all I could see was misery draping him like a funeral shroud.

Though I probably should have filed that moment away, saving it for future blackmail, I couldn’t help but feel for the guy. He’d realized his dreams only to find they were made of shit and tears.

I could relate.

Before my brain could tell my mouth to fuck off and mind its own business, it dug a hole for me. “I’ll find them.”

He looked at me wide-eyed. If I could have seen my face, it probably looked the exact same as his: surprised.

“Would you?” Hope blossomed in his eyes, though it made him no less imposing. The earth rumbled once more, but its growl was somewhat subdued.

Painted into a corner by my goody two-shoes tongue, I nodded. There wasn’t anything else I could do. Besides, I really couldn’t have Baalth rampaging around like Godzilla, burning the city down. Though I really wasn’t all that concerned about Marcus or The Gray-they could both go suck the business end of a bazooka-I felt a pang of pity for Poe. While we were on opposite sides of the fence, he’d earned my respect.

Besides, from the sound of things, I was going after Reven already so what was one more reason? It sure didn’t hurt to be on Baalth’s good side.

He leaned in even closer, so close I could smell the ashy wisps of energy drifting off his naked skin. My nervousness grew as he crowded against me to whisper into my ear.

I could only hope the thing pressed warmly against my leg wasn’t what I thought it was.

“Do this for me-” A banjo serenade played in my head. “-and I’ll grant you a portion of my power as well as forgive your contract.”

At that moment, I didn’t care what he was rubbing on me. In fact, the promise of power had me contemplating a sore jaw. Fortunately, because I’d have embarrassed myself right there, that wasn’t one of the requirements.

Unable to wipe the smile from my face, I met his eyes as he stepped back. While excited by the offer of power for something I’d have done for free, I still knew better than to take his word for it. “Not that I don’t trust you, but-”

He cut me off with a wave, a narrow smile on his lips. He knew how things worked. In fact, I probably earned a few points of respect in his eyes by bringing it up.

With a flash of his hands a contract poofed into being. He bit his palm, letting the blood pool before making his mark. Finished, he blew on the contract to dry it, warm winds fluttering by. He then passed it to me. I read it over, scanning every word, looking for hidden caveats.

To my surprise, there were none. It was an amendment of our original, voiding the first and laying out the terms just as Baalth said they’d be. I took a second look, my mind unable to rationalize a catch-free contract.

“You sure about this?” Against my better judgment, I gave him an out.

He nodded. “The deal stands.” He gestured for me to return the contract. I did with a shaking hand. “Return my men to me, alive, and the power will be yours. You will owe me no more.”

The ground rumbled again, the relief on his face fading.

“Hurry, Triggaltheron.” He looked about at the ruin of his domain, his eyes moist. “For all of our sakes.”

Serpentine tendrils of mist seeped from the ground beneath him, coiling up his legs and wrapping him in ebony shadows. His weary gaze fell on me as the darkness swallowed his face. An instant later, he was gone.

Amidst the wreckage of Old Town, I stood with a blazoning smile amongst the burning buildings and the scorched earth as Rahim and Katon approached.

“You two an item now?” Katon asked.

“There you go with that jealousy act again.” I grinned. “You can’t have me.”

I knew Katon was mostly being sarcastic, but buried beneath his comment was a flowing undercurrent of distrust. He knew Baalth and I had a history, the demon lieutenant having saved my life long ago, and that would forever taint his opinion of me. He would never admit it, nor would he let it interfere with our work, but I knew there was a part of Katon that sat in reserve waiting for the day Baalth called in his marker and he’d have to kill me.

It was a chilling thought.

I never told anyone my original debt to Baalth was already paid, letting them presume otherwise. My guilt wouldn’t let me tell them. My stomach churned as I thought about what I’d had to do to free myself from the entanglements of Baalth’s strings.

Fortunately, Rahim wasn’t in the mood for my introspection, which was good, because I wasn’t either.

“Since even Ray Charles can see Baalth is to blame for this,” He gestured to the sputtering ruins, “can you tell me why?”

“Reven kidnapped his men: Poe, Marcus, and to top it off, McConnell.”

Rahim’s face showed a mix of understanding and crass apathy. He probably cared for Baalth’s goons even less than I did.

“I’m presuming since Old Town is a smoking crater and he handed you a contract, he was unable to stop the necromancer and wants you to do so?”I nodded. “He’s on edge, his power all over the place. You felt the rumbling, right?”

Both had.

“Is he dangerous?” Rahim asked, the unspoken understanding he meant more so than usual.

“Very much so,” I had to admit. “He passed the rescue on to me because I believe he thinks he’s about to lose it.”

Katon glanced around, a harsh laugh slipping out. “I think we’re past that point.”

“This is just a sniffle compared to the plague he’d unleash if his power slipped loose. I think he bit off way more than he could chew when he claimed Glorius’s soul. It’s eating him up inside.”

“And we’re worried about the zombie Anti-Christ when we’ve got a full blown Satan on our hands, counting down the moments until he blows?”

“Baalth is a known quantity. He values his life as much as we do ours. More importantly, he values his status. He won’t do anything to compromise his place in the new order. He’ll hold on as long as he can. At least as long as he thinks things are being handled.” I sighed, the smoke burning my lungs. “On the other hand, Reven and Longinus are unknowns. We have no clue as to their end-game plans.” It’s never good when I’m the voice of reason.

“Frank is right.” It must have hurt for Rahim to admit that. “We stay focused on Reven. When we’ve ended the necromancer’s threat, we’ll worry about Baalth.” He paused and let his eyes roam the destruction. “If we’re around to worry at all.”

The wailing sound of fire engines in the distance snatched my moment away. “I’m gonna look around a bit, see what I can see before the public servants show up.” Conflicted, and certain it was my penis telling me to believe Karra, I was desperate to resolve things, one way or another.

“I’ll stick with Frank,” Katon told Rahim. “If you’d inform Abraham of our plans, I’d be grateful.”

Though Katon tried to be subtle, Rahim’s face drooped, his mood flat-lining. Not used to being coddled, kept in the back with the children and elderly, he took it hard. It was the closest thing to a literal heartbreak I’d ever seen. His eyes narrowed, the corners fluttering, his lips drawn into a straight line. The muscles in his neck were tight, bulging against the skin.

Though he had to know Katon was only thinking of his well-being, the wound was no less deep. In fact, it was much worse. It wasn’t me who said it, someone whose opinion Rahim usually filed away as inconsequential. It had been Katon, the closest thing to family the wizard had, outside of Abraham.

“I’ll do that.” He wouldn’t meet Katon’s eyes. His voice was thick. “Let me know what you find.” A sparkle of red flickered at his hands then he was gone in a flash of energy.

Katon sighed. Though he hadn’t meant it, he’d dealt his friend the most grievous of blows. He sundered his ego.

“He’ll be fine.” I hoped I sounded convincing. “We all get old and-” The absurdity of my statement hit me. Katon shook his head.

I laughed. Not an amused laugh, but a sickly, whoops kind of laugh. Though I was only half devil, I’d inherited my uncle’s lifespan. I’d live forever provided no one took exception to my doing so. Katon, being a vampire, was in the same boat. Neither of us would get old or infirm. We’d never have to worry about porches or rocking chairs, adult diapers or Viagra.

I was just glad Rahim left before I put my foot in my mouth again. “I’m gonna look over here.” I wandered off to the perimeter of the ruined street while Katon went to the other side in silence.

With a raspy sigh, I started sifting through the rubble. Not sure what I hoped to find, my eyes were peeled for anything. The growing sounds of sirens spurred me on. While it would take the firefighters a while to arrive, the distance from Old Town with the wreckage in between slowing them, I didn’t want to be there when they showed up.

Halfway around the block, nearest the furthest edge of the conflagration, I spied something sticking out from beneath a pile of charred rubble. As I got closer, I realized it was a leg. My heart slowed.

While no saint, my hands stained with my own actions, I’d never been a fan of the slaughter of innocents, those who never intentionally, or willingly, gave in to the darkness that lurks inside us all. Old Town was full of people who could never comfortably wear the tag of innocence, but it was also littered with people who hadn’t let the corruption take hold and who were only here because they had nowhere else to go.

Baalth’s moment of weakness hadn’t been selective. His rage killed them all.

Torn between the morality my mother invested in me and the coldness life had impressed upon me, reality won out. I’d seen far too many horrific things to let their weight bear me down and keep me from acting. Though my actions often cost lives, they’d also saved them, the latter in far greater numbers than the former.

It’s easy to frown upon people who claim the end justifies the means, arguing the case of those who fell beneath the wheels. It’s much harder to accept that death is sometimes the price we have to pay for life.

Baalth’s tantrum had cost lives, but if it led me to the means to save more, I could live with that.

At least that’s what I kept telling myself.

I knelt down beside the protruding leg, stirring up the thick scent of charred flesh. It was bitter, rank. The skin not hidden beneath the ashy blackness was sallow and dry, tight against the bone. It looked odd to me, for some reason. Dark lines and smudges covered the leathery flesh.

Thinking it was maybe one of Reven’s ghouls, I dug around a bit more, clearing chunks of brick and mortar away, pieces of wood and wiring, until I found its head. Or what was left of it. Crushed beyond recognition, what stuck out had the same sickly yellow coloring as its leg, what was left of its jaw was stretched so tight it had no wrinkles.

Despite my inner voices telling me not to, I muscled the hunk of wall off the body’s head, an oozing wetness squeezing between my fingers. Blood and brain matter met me, streamers of gray, red, and yellow peeled away, sticking to the wall piece like a morbid rainbow. The remains of the head lay in a pool of blackish blood.

I knew then it wasn’t a zombie.

It wasn’t human either. Not anymore.

“We’ve got to go, Frank.” Katon waved to me from across the street, motioning with his chin toward the approaching fire trucks.

Grumbling, I took one last look at the body, trying to confirm what I suspected. I still wasn’t sure, but with no time left to examine it in detail, suspicion was all I had.

Prodded by the wailing serenade of the El Paseo Fire Department, I sprinted off after Katon. My head was a jumble of conflicting thoughts, tumbling about like hobbit acrobats. At that moment, there was only one thing I knew for certain as the drift of smoke filled my lungs.

I was in the mood for barbeque.