Resurrection

Chapter Fourteen

With no place else to go, Katon and I meandered over to the Triple B Ranch. Situated at the outskirts of the city, its massive expanse butting up against the desert, we had our work cut out for us.

A true ranching tycoon, Beuford Billy Bandy owned tens of thousands of acres of scrubland that stretched from the edge of El Paseo all the way into the neighboring state. Open ranged and uncultivated, with little in the way of markers, it was like looking for a clean needle in a drug den to find something that didn’t either moo or hiss.

“We’ve been out here for hours. Can’t you like, turn into a bat or something and do a flyover? My balls are swimming, man.” The sun was setting but the heat of the day had yet to dissipate.

Katon rolled his eyes. “I’m not Dracula, you Yahoo.”

“But I’m a shit-flinging ape, am I? Well, you’re lucky I only have to piss.” Grumbling I wandered off to find a strand of bushes that looked in need of watering. “You can blah me, Count Blackula.”

Though he tried to muffle it with his hand, I heard Katon chuckle as I slipped behind a wide strand of Creosote growing out of a nearby dune. I wasn’t sure if he was laughing at the joke or at me for being shy. Right then, it didn’t matter. All I cared about was emptying my bladder to get rid of the yellow haze tinting my vision.

A quick zip and yank later, Niagara Falls had come to the desert. Sighing as the biblical flood was reenacted at my feet, a colony of ants swept down the dune, I stared off through the bushes, my eyes on the yellowish-purple sunset. It didn’t get any better than this.

The pressure relieved, I shook a couple of times, then shook a couple more because it felt good. As I packed everything away, a flash off in the distance caught my eye. Pushing the creosote bush to the side, I stared across the desert to where I’d seen the movement, my breath catching in my lungs.

Just a couple hundred yards away, surrounded by scrub grass and molting zombies was Reven, his black cloak fluttering in the light breeze, giving him away. The bulk of his minions stood in a row, lifeless bodies hanging limp in their arms. The others stood over the same type of tubs I’d seen the last time, tearing out throats and draining the bodies of blood.

Suddenly mindful of where I was, I dropped down into a crouch and scanned the desert for Karra. The last thing I needed was for her to sneak up on me. While I had Katon with me, she’d proven far too capable for me to believe his presence was a guarantee of safety. Relieved I knew where she was, though still somewhat nervous, I spotted her on the far side of the zombies, partially obscured by their mass. She was pacing, kicking up dirt at every step, her hand never leaving the pommel of her blade. She looked tense. Can’t say I blamed her.

I guess, sensing my apprehension, Katon crept to my side, mindful of the puddle I’d left in the sand.

“You must be part Irish,” he said, peeking through the bushes.

“Don’t be sneakin’ a peak at me shillelagh.”

An offended twitch rattled his shoulders, his eyes glued on Reven and company. This close to our quarry, he was all business.

“I count sixty zombies. With the necromancer and his pet, we’re going to have our hands full.”

“I’ll handle Karra.” Warm feelings washed over my crotch as I thought about just how I’d like to handle her.

He shook his head. “Stay on task, Frank. Last few times you tangled with her, she handed you your ass. I don’t know how you managed to avoid being killed, but your luck, if that’s what we’re calling it, can’t last forever.” He surveyed the desert landscape as he let his meaning sink in. He knew there was something there between Karra and I, but didn’t know what.

He could join the club.

“You head that way. Stick to the shrubs until you get a clear shot on Reven. The second you do, take it. Put him down.”

“We’re not even sure what he’s doing yet?” My suspicions churned in my stomach.

“Doesn’t matter.” Katon’s voice was cold. “Without a necromancer, Longinus is just another stiff. Threat ended.”

He was right. He was always right, and I hated it. While Katon had no idea who the other players in the game were-as if I did-he knew they all wanted the same thing; power. That meant Longinus. Without Reven to animate him, he wasn’t a factor in anyone’s plans. With a grudging nod, I agreed.

There went my chances with Karra. I was only partially comforted by the thought I probably never had a chance to begin with.

Katon pointed to me and slipped off down the dune, going the opposite of where he told me. Silent, not even rustling the bushes in his wake, he was gone, a shadow merging with the growing dimness.

Disgruntled, I tugged my gun out and headed off like a good little soldier. There is something inherently unsatisfying about following orders when the consequences are unclear. Maybe it was just my uncle’s influence rearing its rebellious head, but I was having a hard time with the idea of putting a bullet in Reven’s head.

It wasn’t because I thought he was a good guy, far from it. You can’t muck about with reanimating corpses and wear a white hat. People had to die so the dead could live. That was just the fact of it. I also wasn’t hesitant because of Karra. Well, not too much. Yeah, shooting her master in the face was probably high on the list of first date don’ts, but I could live with not getting any. Shit, that was an everyday occurrence, or non-occurrence, however you want to say it.

My problem was I felt like I was being played from all ends. Karra had to answer to Reven’s whims and all her talk of the greater good could have been a setup. For what, I had no idea, but I couldn’t just accept her word Reven wasn’t looking to do harm.

Then there was Lilith, succubus, mother of Veronica, and all around snake in the grass. I could take a shit in the woods and hit one of her lies. The problem was, though I knew she wasn’t telling me everything, there didn’t seem to be any logical reason for her to want Longinus reanimated. As a zombie, she’d have no control over him, no influence. He’d be nothing to her. It didn’t make sense.

As I crept around the creosote, my head kept circling back to the body I’d found in Old Town. Baalth had told me it was Reven’s ghouls who’d kidnapped his men, but I hadn’t seen any ghouls around Reven. There’d only been the ones at Calvary, but I couldn’t say for certain who was controlling them. Besides, the crispy critter I’d looked at didn’t seem to be a ghoul. It didn’t look like a zombie either, way too much fresh blood and brain bits. If I had to guess, I’d say it looked a lot more like a gaunt, a human victim of a succubus’s feeding.

If that were the case, then the stakes were much higher than I’d been led to believe. If Lilith were willing to risk Baalth’s wrath by tricking him into going after Reven personally, the payout had to be tremendous. Were he to find out, there’s no place in Heaven or Hell where she’d be safe from his retribution.

If she were willing to play Baalth so boldly, what was she willing to do to little old me?

In position to shoot Reven, I found myself hesitating. He stood there, directing his zombies, oblivious to my presence as I’d camped out just beyond what I believed to be the range of his senses. My gun was pointed at him, but I couldn’t get my finger to pull the trigger. What was the price of Reven’s death? The question ricocheted inside my head, always missing the answer. My hand shook, my heart trusting Katon, but my body wouldn’t obey.

A second later, it no longer mattered.

“Down,” Karra screeched, her blades drawn in a silver blur as she raced toward Reven. Even masked, I could see the grim determination on her face. The necromancer whirled and dove in her direction, his zombies forming a defensive wall.

About twenty yards from her, I saw Katon spring from the bushes, his own blade out. At first I’d thought he or I had spooked Karra, giving ourselves away, but when I saw the glistening shimmer lighting up the desert sky, I realized it hadn’t been us.

From behind Katon, a growing glow whistled toward us like furious storm winds. Clouds of dirt swirled around it. Seeing it, Reven scrambled into the darkness, his zombies jumbled up behind him. Karra stood her ground, alternating her glare between Katon and the lightshow that sped ever closer, her swords at the ready.

Having given up all pretense of surprise, I stepped out of hiding, moving around toward Katon. I held my gun on Karra and kept my distance, knowing damn well how quick she was. It didn’t take but a second before she knew I was there.

“Damn it, Triggaltheron.” Her voice was a wolf’s growl. “I was trying to protect you.” She motioned toward the light. “There’s nothing I can do now.”

Katon edged forward, looking for an opening, when Reven called out, “Come, Karra. Their fate is not ours.”

She hesitated a second, her eyes meeting mine, yet never letting her guard down. “If you’re lucky, there’ll be enough of you left for Reven to raise after all this is over.”

She backed away, the zombie line broke apart for her to pass. Behind them, Reven stood in a shallow grave, his hand extended to her, his yellow glowing eyes sputtering. Once she was passed, the zombies reformed, blocking Katon from following. No real threat to him, it was clear their job was only to slow him down. It worked.

As soon as Karra reached Reven, their palms interlocking, an ebon mist boiled up beneath them, smoky tendrils encircling the grave. Karra dropped into the hole beside her master and gave me one last glance as the blackness engulfed them.

I thought I saw pity in her eyes before they disappeared.

A frigid tremor ran up my spine as the mist cleared. The grave was empty, tiny wisps of dark drifting up to fade away. Karra and Reven were gone.

Katon, fury tattooed on his face, turned to face the incoming lights, keeping the remaining zombies in sight. They stood their ground, but did nothing.

Unsure of what their final orders were, I didn’t turn my back to the zombies, but my focus was on the rapidly approaching lights. Something told me the resident corpses were the least of my concerns.

I hate when I’m right.

Nearer, the mass of shimmering lights resolved into a dozen singular, brilliant glows. A moment later, they drifted to a stop in front of us, each glow taking on a humanoid form. I felt a sudden chill as the temperature dropped drastically. My heart skipped a beat as I realized what they were.

Revenants. These were Michael’s non-shadow shadows.

Made of pure, magical energy, there was little to distinguish them from each other, save for the superficial attempts at mimicking what I imagined was their original appearances. Most seemed male, though a couple had decidedly more feminine characteristics. One was even hot enough to warrant a second look.

I’m not biased.

In flowing robes of glistening white, their whirling yellow eyes casting severe glances our direction, they fanned out into a half-circle. The one at the center, an older looking man whose face was far more defined than the rest, took a step forward and addressed us.

“Where is Reven?” His voice was like dry ice. Whispers of frost wafted out of his mouth as he spoke.

I started to answer, but Katon waved me to silence. “He isn’t here.” He gestured to the shallow grave. “We came here looking for him as well, but he fled when he saw you approaching.”

The old revenant glanced about, a crooked smile on his ethereal lips. “Enemies of this necromancer, are you?” His smile turned into a smirk. “Seems a bit strange to find you amongst the soldiers of your supposed foe yet see no signs of battle, no inkling of hostility. It makes one think you are not entirely truthful.”

Angered by his attitude, my mouth ran amok. “I don’t know who you are, or what your business with Reven is, but you can kiss my ass if you think we’re buddies with corpse boy.”

His face stretched with the glory of his smile. “I am Daartan, leader of the White Knights. I have been charged by the Almighty Himself to the care of the lost souls of the conquered Anti-Christs. God help those who stand in my way.”

The air got even colder, my balls drawn in tight. I’d never met Daartan, but Lucifer had spoken of him, and not in anything resembling polite terms. Freed from eternal imprisonment in Limbo by God, it was the White Knights’ job to ensure the fallen souls of Satan’s Anti-Christs stayed fallen.

He was one bad dude.

Katon must have seen my face, because he jumped in again. “Regardless of how it may seem, we are not allied with Reven. We’ve come here to stop him before he returns Longinus to life.” He sheathed his sword in a show of peace.

Daartan watched him, his eyes narrowing to pinpricks of light. “You’ve no ties to the necromancer yet you wield a blade once belonging to Longinus?”

Katon’s face went white, well, closer to gray. It didn’t take a genius to realize what the knight was getting at. With the zombies sitting peacefully by like we were pals, it didn’t look good. This wasn’t a fight we wanted.

“Appearances can be deceiving.” Though he didn’t reach for his sword, I could tell Katon was ready for action.

“Perhaps, but in the end, it matters little.” The wall of revenants edged closer. “I find it best to secure the weapon, ensuring it can do no harm to me or mine.” Something in his tone made me think that was what he planned all along. The clarion sounded, Katon didn’t wait to be attacked. He sprung at Daartan, his sword in his hand in a blur. Unsurprised, the knight backpedaled, raising a shield of sparking energy to deflect Katon’s blow. Undeterred, Katon pressed forward. The rest of the revenants laid into the zombie horde.

Have you ever been in a fight where you just know you’re outclassed? When you feel deep down, you haven’t got a chance? Everything you do, your opponent does better? That’s how I felt right then.

It didn’t stop me, though.

While revenants weren’t exactly angels or demons, having become something entirely different after death, there was still some part of their original essence in the mix. At least, I’d hoped there was. If not, I was in for one hell of an ass-whippin’.

I drew my gun and snapped off a couple of shots. The first ripped through the nearest revenant, a wispy trail of light shooting out its back. The second struck home, piercing its eye, gold-yellow flecks exploding like a glitter factory. It wavered and its glow flickered, like a bulb about to go out.

Before I could hit it again, an arc of laser-fine light was swung at my head. I spotted it in my peripheral vision and just managed to step clear as a scythe of pure energy carved a sizzling gash inches from where I’d just been. Shards of steaming glass sprayed up from the crystallized ground, pelting me with a thousand bee stings. Squeezing my eyes shut to avoid losing one, I spun out of the jagged rain and opened them only to have to dodge another scythe blow.

Again and again, the revenant swung its glowing death at me, and time and time again, I barely managed to step clear. It didn’t take a bookie to realize the odds were turning against me. I was on the defensive and there was only one of them trying to take my head off. Once the rest finished the zombies and headed my way, I was dead.

Turns out, I didn’t have to wait that long.

Risking a desperate shot, I paused for just an instant. The scythe didn’t. It slashed downward, slicing cleanly through the barrel of my gun, missing my trigger finger by a pubic hair. Unfortunately, there wasn’t time for relief.

Having cut through the bullet in the chamber, it exploded. Unlike in the movies, there wasn’t any dramatic slowing of the scene, giving me time to react. There was only a searing agony in my hand and the instant realization it was only gonna get worse. And it did. Fast.

Like dominos, the rest of the shells in the clip exploded. The pain in my hand disappeared as tiny fragments of demon-slaying bullets and gun remnants spread the agony. Under the needles of a million-armed acupuncturist, sharp points of pain pierced me everywhere. Though it was hard to ascertain just how badly I’d been wounded, my entirety a whitewash of hurt, I knew it had to be bad.

Sometime during the conflagration, I’d fallen. I only realized it because I suddenly had a mouthful of dirt. Dizzy, unable to focus, I tried to roll over, to clear the sand from my eyes and mouth. White bolts of pain pierced me everywhere, zigzagging across my nerves. It brought tears to my eyes and forced the breath from my lungs in a pitiful gasp.

Though it hurt like nothing I’d ever felt before, I managed to flop over onto my side, panting like a dog from the effort. The world was a blur of stinging light, crashing against my vision in chaotic waves, tiny spots of bouncing darkness intermingled. My thoughts still clouded, unsure of what I was seeing, I blinked my eyes to chase away the tears and clinging dirt. It took a few moments, but my vision at last cleared.

And I instantly regretted it.

The dark spots I’d seen between the white, had been Katon. Mauled by the revenants, he was being tossed back and forth between them, each tearing away a chunk of flesh before passing him on to the next. His shredded skin hung in red, wet strips, swinging in time with his every movement. One of his eyes trailed from its socket, a gory pendulum. His left arm lay limp at his side, the bone protruding from his shoulder like a sharp spear. Half of his scalp was peeled back, the white of his skull peeking through the leaking redness.

Yet through it all, he still fought. With his sword clutched in his right hand, he struck out at every opportunity, but his blade failed to hit home. Even though he had to know the revenants were toying with him, Katon would battle to his last breath. I couldn’t let him do it alone.

I tried to get to my feet, pressing my hands beneath me to support my weight. Turned out, that wasn’t such a good idea. Ice pick pains brutalized my senses, pillaging my nerves as I crumpled into a heap of suffering. Barely able to see, let alone form a coherent thought, I looked to my hand.

Or to what was left of it.

The backfire had blown off my first three fingers. Nubs of charred blood and flesh were all that was left. My pinky remained, though it was clearly broken, pointing out at an odd angle. Only my thumb appeared relatively normal, open to the bone along the bottom, but still there, as was most of my palm.

Sickness welled up inside of me and I felt weak, my thoughts swirling as if down a drain. A pang of guilt for failing Katon fluttered against my conscience. I only had a second to think about it before the shadows poured over me, drowning me in a cold, black emptiness.

The dark faded and all I could see was blurry white. It took a few moments of blinking my eyes to bring them into focus. A moment later I could see, and the agony returned like stars exploding against my nerves. A split-second after that, I was begging for the cold numbness to return.

“You live. Excellent.” Daartan hovered over me, his eerie smile cracking his face. In his ghostly hand was Katon’s sword.

“If you’ve hurt-”

He chuckled, setting the tip of the sword against my throat. “Oh, we’ve hurt the vampire. Hurt him near to death, no doubt.” He leaned in close, cold wisps of breath stinging my face. “He’s a spiteful beast, and as willful as any I’ve ever seen. I’ve no interest in freeing his soul only to have him seek revenge upon me, as one of my own kind. That would be unwise of me, so fear not, he lives.”

“You’ll get what’s coming to you,” I muttered through clenched teeth, my voice weak.

We both knew the threat was empty.

“Of that, I am assured.” He stepped away, waving Katon’s sword in the air with a victorious flourish. “You still claim no allegiance to Reven?”

I tried to spit at him, but I didn’t have the strength. The glob of saliva ran warm down my chin, mixing with the blood that leaked from my myriad wounds.

“No matter.” He pointed to the twitching pile of red and black that lay in the dirt. “If you wish to see your friend again, find the necromancer.”

My stomach lurched as I tried to sit up, tsunami waves of nausea and pain keeping me down. I lay on my side choking, trying not to vomit while the revenants lifted Katon’s broken body between them and drifted off toward the darkness. Daartan stared after them for a moment, then turned back to me, a crooked smile on his illuminated face. He reached down and set an ornate, silver amulet with an obsidian stone in its center, on my chest.

“Once you have Reven’s location, break the stone. I will come to you.”

“That supposed to be comforting?”

He smirked. “You remain alive only because you still have some use. Do not force me to reevaluate that presumption.” He spun the sword once more before holding it out before me, just out of reach. “Your companion knows not the value of this blade or he would not carry it about so lightly.” He ran his spectral hand along the blade, tiny droplets of light spilling from his fingers as it bit into his ghostly flesh. “Once you’ve delivered the necromancer to me, I will show you its true glory.” With a sputtering laugh, he flew off to join the rest of the knights.

As the darkness returned, the revenants’ light gone, I was alone with my agony. The zombies that had stood by peacefully had been slaughtered by Daartan and his knights. They lay about in shattered pieces, not much different than how I felt.

After giving myself a while to rest and prepare for the utter misery that lay ahead, I slipped the amulet around my neck and tried to stand. It took eight attempts, each a trial in suffering, before I managed to stay upright. Sad thing about it all, standing was the easy part.

The pitch of night stretched out before me, with only the tiny flickers of city lights way off in the distance to guide me off the ranch. Rather than worry about it-there was plenty of time ahead for that-I just walked, concentrating on putting one foot in front of the other. I knew if I fell I might never get back up.

Cold due to blood loss from the oozing wounds that covered my body, compounded by the desert night and the chill of my predicament, I kept warm by thinking of how Daartan would pay for what he’d done.

By the time I reached one of the intersecting highways, I was sweating, a furnace of fury burning inside.