Lycan Fallout 5 Page 22

  “See, it is an agent of good.”

  “Not so quick, big guy. It also had the opposite effect. Lots of people wanted to dominate, to rule the world, to re-make it in their image; didn’t work out so well. As always, it was a matter of things always balancing out.”

  “I would like to say I care about your words, yet I do not. This is another item I may add to my list of accomplishments.”

  “Your legend grows in your own mind.”

  He didn’t like that one bit and I got a sizable hip check to communicate exactly what he thought of it.

  “You might be wise to let the giant demon have his say,” Azile said as she steadied me.

  By anyone’s standards, the next two days were uneventful. No legacies were built. We rode, we walked, we talked, we ate. If not for what we knew was coming, it would have been somewhat pleasant. Although, I really could have done without all the walking. It was just that the alternative was getting back into the tuchus torture device called a saddle, which was attached to an animal I wasn’t a fan of. I supposed they had their purpose, like for glue and dog food, but other than that, not so much.

  By the evening of the third day, we were on Denarth lands and had a sizable lead on the polions. I, as of yet, had no idea what good that was going to do, but here we were. I hated the idea of wasting the precious commodity of time, but heading to the gates during the night did not sound beneficial at all. By now it made sense that the city would be on high alert and anything approaching was bound to end up with a lead enema. Obviously, not really because that would entail us advancing ass-first which didn’t make much sense; just trying to get my point across.

  Azile had called for a halt, which I was all too willing to heed. Walking is decent, hiking can be exceptional. Forced marching for days on end…well, it just plain sucks. The Marine Corps loved it, if that gives you any point of reference. I wonder what my old platoon would think if they saw my squad now. I could not help but smile at what would certainly be puzzled looks. I was lost in thoughts of that group of men I called brothers, when I looked over to Oggie. He was as tired as any of us, but instead of sitting down next to me like he usually did, he was to the side of our small encampment, looking off in the distance, his body rigid. He would raise his head and neck from time to time, apparently sniffing for an elusive scent. I noticed that at those times when he picked something up, his fur would bristle.

  “You alright, boy?”

  My words got Azile’s attention; she looked to me then out, following Oggie’s stares. Kalandar was already asleep in possibly one of the most disgusting poses I had ever seen. He was lying on his back, which was fine–it was just that he had a rabbit, half in his mouth, half out, and the bottom half seemed very much alive as it scrambled to escape his jaws.

  “How is that even possible?” I was looking over at him, chewing sympathetically. Azile shushed me. Here was an image that I was going to have burned into the folds of my mind. Add to that, the rabbit was continually dropping pellets of shit on his neck. “I don’t think I can take much more of that.” I stood and was going to go and give Kalandar a nudge to finish his meal when we all heard the firing of bullets. It must have startled the hell out of the demon because he sat up, the bottom half of the rabbit falling into his lap.

  “It can’t be the polions…not yet, right?” I asked.

  “It does not matter what it is, only that it is something.” Azile was grabbing the few things she had spread out; safe to say we weren’t going to get a good night’s sleep tonight. Not that this was ever going to be the case for me. I had a pretty strong feeling my dreams were going to be littered with images of the Easter bunny in all manner of bloody conclusions, anyway. Just on the periphery of hearing, there were shouts and then, finally, silence. So either it was not a full-scale invasion, or it had been the quickest one known to man.

  We were all standing there, frozen in indecision. If we went, we had no idea what we were getting into, if we stayed, we were useless. Then everything changed. The shriek cut through the night air like a shark through murky waters.

  Azile looked over to me. My blood was running cold; I don’t know how I knew what I did, but I did.

  “Eliza,” I said, looking off the way Oggie was. He lowered his head and issued forth a deep grumble from his chest.

  “Perhaps she is dying,” Kalandar offered.

  I shook my head. “I think that would be entirely too easy, and that was a full-throated oxygen-rich scream if I ever heard one. If I had to bet money, it sounded like she was royally pissed off.”

  “What could make a vampire so angry?” Azile asked.

  “My guess is she’s not getting enough alone time with her significant other,” I replied.

  Azile’s frown said everything it needed to.

  “Sorry…she’s Eliza. What doesn’t piss her off?”

  “That’s a more valid answer,” Azile countered.

  “Should we stay or should we go?” Kalandar asked.

  “Clash, 1982.” My statement came entirely from left field, from some hidden corner of my mind.

  If I thought Azile had frowned earlier, it had nothing on this new look. Something along the lines of “what is wrong with you and what the hell is wrong with me that I would want to be with someone so screwed up in the head.” At least, that was how I took it to mean.

  There were more shots, more savage screams and shrieks; we were on the move the moment it started. How we were going to avoid getting shot didn’t seem quite as important as responding to help my friends. We were heading straight for the walls of Denarth. Azile performed some spell on the run; we were now illuminated in a soft glow. We were going to be easy targets if someone got it in their head to fire on us, but from the sounds inside the walls, they had all they could handle. We were making good time and would be there within the next few minutes when my name was yelled out.

  “Talbot!” It was Mikota, and he was loping across the open field right toward me.

  “Go! Help them!” I urged. Didn’t matter I’d said the words, Oggie, Azile, and Kalandar all stopped. My heart surged.

  Mikota pulled up short when he looked upon the deadly array aligned against him. He snorted in derision.

  “That is the only way you could defeat me!” He stood and slammed a massive paw against his chest. “I demand what you promised!”

  “No,” Azile said for my ears only.

  “I can destroy him easily,” Kalandar grumbled; this I did not doubt.

  “This, I must do alone.”

  “A promise? You are going to tie your life to a promise? Is this some nonsense of how you will be remembered? Did you not just tell Kalandar, that legacies carry no weight for the person making them?”

  “Please don’t use my own words against me; I’d never be able to do anything again. Go help our friends. Perhaps once this would have been a contest of cunning, strength, and will; but now it is as if he is a pup fighting a bear. I will show no mercy and will join you shortly. And take Linnick. I don’t want her getting caught in the crossfire.”

  Linnick went willingly enough. Azile looked at me, then to Mikota before she tapped Kalandar’s thigh and motioned with her head. Oggie whined before turning.

  “See you soon,” Kalandar said as he left quickly.

  “That was not a very lengthy alliance,” I said to Mikota as I placed my rifle on the ground.

  “We could have never worked together, your kind and mine.”

  “Yet, you are here with an Old One. How much sense do you think that makes from one on the outside looking in? Mind you, Lycan wouldn’t be my first choice to work with. But you make do with what you have.”

  “I found another Old One more in line with my vision. You could say we both have a similar purpose.”

  “Which is?” This was kind of like asking a couple of four-year-olds why they raided the cookie jar. The answer that obvious; I just wanted to hear him say it.

  “She hates you with a passion I had hope
d to achieve one day. I fear that I will not have the time to build up to it, for my desire will be sated this night.”

  Mikota seemed incredibly assured of his chances going solo against me, which was to be expected, but that did not mean I would not keep an eye out for others to join in. I looked around.

  “It is just you and I.” He allayed my fears.

  “Huron not coming to the party?” I had my axe in my hand.

  “Sadly, he did not share in my vision.”

  “You killed Huron and joined with Eliza? How far have you traveled off the path, Mikota?”

  “I am exactly on the path I need to be!” he shouted before he dropped down onto all fours and charged.

  He must have caught something in the glint of my eye which briefly illuminated the ground around me, for he veered off before attacking. I felt something move through my body, though I could not explain what it was. He had too much momentum to avoid me completely; our shoulders crashed into each other. I should have been sent sprawling, but instead I was as immovable as a mountain. Mikota involuntary yelped from the impact, clearly favoring his right shoulder. He limped a few more feet away before stopping and turning. There was doubt in his eyes, though it wasn’t enough to deter him, and that was fine by me. I twisted slightly so I could square up on him. He’d stood upright because he was not able to support weight on the injured area. He was coming back, this time at a much slower and wary pace.

  “What kind of coward uses a magical weapon when fighting?” he said.

  I could have replied with: “What kind of coward attacks something a third its size,” but instead put my axe back in its holder.

  His muzzle opened wide in a smile. “Fool!” he spat before launching himself at me.

  I caught him in mid-air, my hand hardly big enough to wrap around his larynx. I squeezed as hard as I could as I sidestepped and tossed him away using his own momentum. He lay on the ground for a few seconds, gasping for air. I had not crushed his windpipe, but I had compressed it enough that he was feeling the effects.

  “What is this sorcery?” He placed a paw to his injured throat as he slowly arose.

  “What’s the matter, Mikota? Can’t even bite off more than you can chew?”

  “I will kill you.”

  “That doesn’t sound remotely convincing to me,” I told him as I advanced and he uncharacteristically retreated. He backed up as far as he was willing before he charged again. I dodged his arm and punched straight up into his jaw; he howled out in pain. The crack of bone sounded like a dried branch being snapped over a knee. The bottom half hung askew and his tongue was lolling out. He was over to the side of me, panting heavily. “You’re not half the Lycan Xavier was, or even Lunos. At least that one had some smarts.” Mikota’s shoulders dipped. I was trying to rile him up enough so that we could finish this quickly. Something was happening within the city limits of Denarth, and I felt that I needed to be there, more than here.

  He looked at me for a second and I could see it in his eyes–he was going to make a run for it. No fucking way, was what I was thinking as I reached for my axe and started running toward him a half second before he could bound off. I struck him on the side of the rib cage, driving the head of the axe between two of them. He lurched over to the side; a frothy mixture of blood and air blew out from his ruptured lung. He wanted to howl but didn’t have it in him. A cloud of dust rose up as his body collapsed into the dirt. He was on his side, his left eye regarding me as I stood over him. His front paws were twitching and his eyes were losing focus.

  “We could have done this together, you and me. Can’t necessarily say I blame you for what you did, though. Eliza can be a powerful and persuasive being. Rest well, Mikota.” I brought the axe down onto the top of his skull, crashing through the thick bone and into his brain. His body was still convulsing as I turned and headed into Denarth. I ran through a breach; the heavy beamed door had been torn free from its thick, iron hinges. Dead men lay strewn all along the ground–most had lost a limb, some two or more. It looked like a maniacal killer had come in with a giant chainsaw. Kalandar had an angry looking gash on the side of his face. Mathieu was there; he had bandages on both arms and these were soaked in a fresh layer of blood. Lana’s sword appeared dipped in the fluid. And there was Eliza. She was standing stock still, her arms pinned to her sides; I knew this pose. Azile had her hands raised in front of her and was performing a continuous chant.

  Something was different about Eliza–sure, she looked angry–that was normal enough. But she also looked tortured, in pain, somehow; something I had never seen from her, not while she’d been a vampire, anyway. Saw a lot of it in flashback from her previous short, brutal existence.

  “Everyone all right?” I came in slow and cautiously; there were a lot of emotions flying around the group right now and it was tough to get a read on any of them. Lana, for one, looked as if she would just as quickly turn her blade on me as she would Eliza.

  “Who is she, Michael?!” she shouted. I admit I was confused for a moment; it was like meeting George Washington and asking who he was. Didn’t everyone know? But there was no reason for her to ask; she spelled out exactly what she meant by her next question, erasing any doubt.

  “You send her?” Lana was shaking with rage.

  “Wait–you think I turned a person? For what reason?” Confusion was quickly turning to pain of the heartache variety.

  “We turned you out!” she yelled.

  “And? I understood your reasons, Lana. Your family was threatened; you did what you thought was right. So you think I was so angry I would make a vampire and turn them loose in Denarth? You think so little of me?”

  Now it was her turn to register confusion. “You were in the underworld,” she replied as if this explained everything. “And there were two of them.”

  “Two?”

  “You didn’t know? But…but you are responsible for this…all this death.”

  “He is,” Eliza replied. “He is death’s favored son.”

  “Enough, Eliza.” Azile made sure to apply more pressure to the vampire, making speaking a difficult and painful proposition. “Lana, Eliza pre-dates Michael by over five hundred years,” she said. I noticed that she made sure not to say Eliza had been newly resurrected; anything more to do with the Underworld would most likely be laid at my feet.

  “Is this true?” Lana was looking at me.

  Azile answered, “It is.”

  There was a cautious relief in Lana, the relief of keeping an ally, if not a friend. But it’s difficult to adjust to a new reality quickly, one so different from the one you recently believed in wholeheartedly.

  “What are you going to do with her?” Kalandar asked.

  “Cut her fucking head free from her body.” I went and grabbed a sword from a soldier who would never wield it again. I hoped he’d found some justice for his death with this final action. Or who knows? Maybe he was far above and beyond such earthly endeavors. “Any last words? I’d ask if you were sorry for your evil deeds, but really, what’s the point.”

  “They killed my Emily! I’m only sorry that I did not kill more.”

  “Emily?” I looked around.

  “There was a child vampire,” Mathieu replied gruffly.

  “That’s different. I thought you preferred to work alone.” I was coming closer.

  Eliza smiled. “Would you like to see a trick?”

  I had no idea what she had in store and I didn’t want to. I moved quickly, bringing the sword back. I was in mid-swing when she disappeared; my blade whooshed into and through the emptiness. I stumbled from the followthrough.

  “Azile?” I asked when I stood back up and realized there was no head for me to burn.

  “I don’t know.”

  “Did she turn invisible?” Lana asked.

  “I still would have sliced her in half,” I replied. “And no, that did not happen. There was no resistance.”

  “She’s gone.” Azile had been concentrating. “T
here is no trace of her.”

  “Dammit!” I yelled, tossing the sword to the ground.

  We stayed on high alert through the rest of the night, though we needn’t have. She’d be back; that was a guarantee. She was like an untreated herpes virus–by that I mean reoccurring at the worst times possible. The sun was coming up, and I found a nice shady spot against the wall to sit down. Oggie padded over and placed his massive head in my lap. He was asleep by the third stroke of my hand upon his head. I wished I could have joined him in his slumber; he looked peaceful. Regrettably, I wasn’t completely exhausted, though I was close. In any case, I was too busy stewing in my thoughts, as Mathieu approached.

  “Do you mind if I sit with you?”

  “Are you kidding me right now?”

  “I am sorry to have bothered you.” His head dipped and his eyes were downcast, he had turned to walk away.

  “Mathieu, I asked if you were kidding because we are friends. You do not need to ask my permission to come closer.”

  “Even after all that has happened?”

  “Because your wife threw me out? Hardly the first time a friend’s significant other has sent me packing.” I laughed a little; was nice to have that reaction after recent events.

  “I do not believe I have ever or will ever encounter a more evil being than that vampire. I could feel it radiating from her. Fear is not something I am accustomed to in my werewolf form, yet it was all I could do not to tremble as we fought. I wanted to run away more than attack.”

  “Did you?”

  “Did I what?”

  “Did you run away?”

  “I could not! My family, my home was in peril.”

  “You might have been terrified, Mathieu, but you overcame it. Don’t feel too bad. As a human, she survived some of the worst abuse her dickhead father could deliver, then she roamed the earth for five hundred years, exacting all manner of revenge, never once caring for the damage done. Then, to add to her legacy, she just spent the last two hundred years in the underworld learning who knows what, only to finally escape. It would be extremely safe to assume she should be feared. There is no doubt that she needs to die, but unfortunately that didn’t happen. Right now we have other, just as deadly, things to contend with.”