Matt Archer: Redemption Part 13

"Yeah," he said, stooping to pick up a little girl and set her on a low wall, out of the crush. "Our prey popped up in the middle of the square and grabbed five or six people. This is the mad rush to get away."

"What'd you tell them?" Lanningham asked, using his large body to elbow a path through. We filed behind him and the crowd started to give us room.

"That we're on our way to kill the terror that stalks them, but they had to calm down and let us through."

"Good thinking," I said. Mobs were dangerous, and I had to think at least a few people had been badly hurt during the stampede.

When we got to the public works access point, police were keeping the area clear, and one was shouting something into a megaphone.

"Arabic," Lanningham said. "Mine's rusty, but I think he's saying it's dangerous and to disperse."

"Is there a waste water plant on the other end?" I asked. "Maybe we can drive them out someplace less public and make this easier.

Blakeney nodded. "There is, but it's eight miles away."

If I'd had a wall nearby, I would've banged my head on it. "We can't track these things eight miles through a sewer. Underground fight it is."

Lanningham and Dorland were talking to the police in a mix of French and Arabic. After a minute, Dorland said. "Eight people, captured by three serpents. Five were killed on street level. Three more down below, including a five-year-old girl and her mother."

"We're bringing them out. Alive," I snapped. "I'm going in. Watch my back."

"I'm going in first," Lanningham said. "To make sure there's not something lying in wait for you."

I thought briefly about overruling him, but he was right. I couldn't jump in the middle of things anymore. I had too big a part to play from here on out. "Okay."

We filed through the path the police had made for us and a man in coveralls met us at the manhole. "I open it for you," he said in halting English.

Once the cover was off, the man leapt back like he was scared a snake would pop out. Instead, steam, reeking of a stench I would never, ever forget, floated up. It smelled like a landfill had gotten busy with a latrine and had kids. My eyes watered.

Lanningham checked his ammo stash, then climbed down the rungs on the side of the tunnel leading into the sewer.

"All clear," came a m.u.f.fled shout from below.

Good-my turn. I gave my knife handle a squeeze, then climbed down the ladder. The smell got worse briefly, then for some weird reason it faded. Water flowed in a stream down the center of a large circular tunnel with a pump station off to one side. The dark down here would've been absolute, save for the little bit of twilight coming in from the portal above and Lanningham's flashlight.

I moved forward five paces and waited for the other two to climb down.

"Which direction?" Lanningham asked once Blakeney's boots. .h.i.t the ground.

"Not sure. Tink? Talk to me."

They're down there. We're not far from their nest. Her voice held nine shades of vengeance. We should pay them a call.

"What about the people they took? Still alive?"

She was quiet a moment. One. The child. We'll find her. Trust me.

"I do." Here, Tink was my guiding star. I closed my eyes a minute, tuning into her energy, and slowly turned my body downstream. There was a tug in that direction, some kind of blot that spoke of old, evil places.

"How many people have died here?" I asked, my eyes still shut.

"Forty-two in the last six days. That includes nineteen children under the age of ten," Lanningham's voice echoed back to me. "And however many tonight."

Children died here, Tink growled. Scared and alone, in pain in the dark.

Like the little girl I'd lost in Afghanistan. Like all the children sacrificed to Ann's dark arts. "Not today."

So what are you going to do about it? You can still save the one, Tink said. Her rage was contained by my will alone and I let her strength flow into my muscles and bones, until I became an instrument of death.

"Everyone, behind me," I said. "From here on out, I'm calling this one. Rifles ready and keep a handle on the flamethrower. We might want it."

Letting that dark tug guide me in the right direction, I followed the sewer to its first branch, and took the left tunnel. The walls were narrower here-barely wide enough for two men to walk side by side-and slick with mold. The scent of rotten eggs grew stronger the farther in we went. It might be the wastewater, but demons always smelled of sulfur.

I held up a fist and the team stopped behind me. For the last several minutes, the only light had been Lanningham's flashlight, but now another light grew.

My knife's handle was glowing green.

We were close. While Tink was infinitely more than just the knife, in some ways the knife was more than just Tink. It sensed Dark brothers in the same way she did, through some magic all its own.

Twenty yards downstream, there was a T-juncture. The nest was probably inside one of the new branches. I eased the knife out of its sheath and took a step forward, then another. The rotten egg stench was nearly overpowering now, and I covered my nose with my hand.

I was still ten yards from the juncture when a dark ma.s.s shot out of the left-hand tunnel and slithered toward me with incredible speed. I barely had time to get the knife up before a huge, diamond shaped head snapped down at my skull. Fangs the length of my forearm whizzed over my head as I dropped flat on my back in the water to avoid the attack.

Feeding from Tink's power, I popped back up. There wasn't much room down here, and the snake was using its thick body to block the tunnel behind it. I couldn't tell exactly how big it was, but thirty feet long and three feet wide seemed like a conservative estimate.

"Look out!" Blakeney yelled.

I hazarded a glance over my shoulder. Another snake was slithering through the tunnel behind us. "Where did that one come from?"

My knife's handle heated up in my hand. Right, take care of the close one first. It snapped at me again, but I wriggled past it. Because it was so wide, it had trouble doubling back fast enough to catch me, and once I was on its back, I slashed the blade through the tough hide a foot behind its head. The snake jerked and hissed, sending me into the slimy wall, then collapsed, splas.h.i.+ng my team with a wave of putrid water.

Rifle shots cracked. The new snake was closing on the team, but as we'd feared, the bullets bounced off its scales like it was armored. I pulled myself over the dead snake, shouting, "Try the flamethrower!"

Dorland lit the igniter and the smell of burning gasoline added to the stench. The snake opened its enormous mouth, ready to come down on us, but Dorland stood his ground and filled its throat with fire instead. With a horrible hissing screech, the thing thrashed against the walls, sending small chunks of concrete down on our heads before it fell. I ran ahead to stab it in case it wasn't totally dead.

I'd regret that mistake.

"Behind you!" bellowed Lanningham.

I whirled around, but he wasn't talking to me. A new snake had come out of the T-juncture, slithering over its dead comrade. It shot forward at Lanningham's shout and clamped its jaws around Dorland's chest.

"No!" I ran, slipping on the moldy floor, and launched myself at the snake. It dropped Dorland, but I was already on top of it and I stabbed both of its eyes out before driving the blade into its skull.

When it fell, we rushed to help Dorland, but we were too late. The snake's jaws had crushed his torso into something unrecognizable.

Blakeney covered his mouth and staggered away, but I stared at the mess that used to be my friend, my teammate for three different campaigns. I'd have to mourn later. This death rode on my back and the roar of Tink's rage filled me, driving out the chill, the horror, the failure.

"Anything else comes out here, fry it," I barked at Lanningham. "Do not follow me."

Then I jogged to the T-juncture and took the left tunnel.

Chapter Seventeen.

The tunnel led into deep darkness. Quiet hissing echoed off the walls, such that I couldn't tell where all of them were coming from. I stopped short, wondering if I was walking into a trap. Or if I already had.

The hissing fell silent. I raised the knife to chest level, ready to strike, but nothing moved. Seconds ticked by, marked by the steady drip of water from the ceiling. Our fight had cracked the tunnel in several places.

Another minute went by, and still nothing slithered out of the dark. Why was it monsters b.u.m-rushed me whenever I had my back turned, but the second I looked remotely ready, they held back? I wanted a straight up fight; adrenaline made my limbs tingle and Dorland's ghost pressed me to run in hot. I knew better, though. I'd barreled into enough tough spots to have learned a few lessons.

Slowly, picking up each foot and setting it back down with care to keep from splas.h.i.+ng, I moved forward. I'd gone thirty yards when I noticed it had grown a little brighter, coming from a sickly yellow glow that spilled from a nook to the left. I leaned around the corner and there they were.

Five snakes were coiled around a clutch of eggs. Sitting in the center of the nest was a little girl. She had her hands over her eyes, like covering them would hide her from the nightmare around her. Even now one of the eggs was shuddering and a tiny fracture had cracked the sh.e.l.l.

The child was food for the newborn snakes. That's why she was still alive, and I was transported to another fight a lifetime ago, where a baby lay screaming on a jungle floor, his death poised over him with open jaws. My fingers tightened around my knife's handle until they went numb, and I could barely keep from rus.h.i.+ng in there to kill every reptile in sight.

One snake, slightly larger than the ones who attacked us, lay at the front of the group like it was guarding the others. It raised its head, flicking a pink tongue out a good two feet as it scented the air. The yellow glow, I discovered, came from the snakes' eyes.

"You let the girl go," I growled. "Hurt her, and I take this slow, instead of finis.h.i.+ng you fast."

The big one hissed. It sounded like it was laughing, daring me to come after them.

Enough, Tink said. They insult us. Go in there and wreak some havoc. And take out those eggs.

Knowing my team had ignored the command I gave them not to follow me, I held up a fist. A soft sigh reached my ears; yep, they were right behind me, close enough that I could smell the fuse on the flamethrower.

Good. Nothing spelled party quite like an inferno.

A grim smile spread across my face. G.o.d, Tink was spoiling for action. Well, she'd have to wait a minute. I stared into the big snake's eyes, halting its laughter. "Next time you think to kill a member of my team, think again."

What happened next came in a blur that ran in slow motion. I wondered if Tink was manipulating time somehow, because in a blink, I'd thrown myself into the nest, killed two of the smaller snakes and s.n.a.t.c.hed the little girl. Another blink and I was through the doorway, thrusting the kid into Blakeney's arms.

"Go!" I growled. He didn't question-he turned and ran as fast as he could.

"Fire in the hole," Lanningham said, shoving me behind him.

Flames shot into the chamber and the smell of roast snake filled the sewer, along with horrible squeals.

Then the big one slithered free, singed but still dangerous. Lanningham dove out of the way as the snake shot into the tunnel.

"Keep on the others!" I turned to follow it. "Take out the eggs!"

"On it," Lanningham called.

I splashed through the fetid water, chasing down my prey. The tunnel ahead of me was filled with monster-snake.

Then it wasn't.

The monster swerved into a new tunnel, disappearing to the right. When I caught up, it was nowhere to be seen. In this maze, I had no idea where it had gone. Did it double back to catch Lanningham? Or worse, Blakeney and the little girl? I stood still, clutching the knife, willing Tink to show me the way.

Then there it was, coming straight at me out of a another tunnel farther down the line. It'd made a U-turn and now I was the one being chased down. There was no way I'd be able to outrun it. But I could outmaneuver it.

I held my ground, knife out, like I planned to meet it head on. When it was almost close enough to snap me with its jaws, I leapt aside and plastered myself against the wall. Like I'd hoped, the slick floor made it hard for the creature to stop, and it missed me when it tried to strike with its fangs as it slid past. Before it had a chance to double back through another tunnel, I stabbed my blade deep into its muscular side and held on tight with my feet braced, letting its momentum do the work for me. A great slash opened up behind its head, and ran ten feet.

The snake didn't move when I pulled the knife free, but I could tell it was still alive. "You never should've come out of the dark where I'd find you."

I pulled the knife free and stabbed it down into the snake's skull. It went limp.

Feeling hollow, I crawled past the creature's body and jogged down the pa.s.sage. Lanningham stood at the junction, waiting for me.

"Get them all?" I asked.

"Yeah." Lanningham sounded surprised. "It was ...too easy."

Maybe Ann's request for the covens to stand down had done some good, leaving the monsters unguided and less dangerous, but too late to help us. I glanced over at Dorland's body. "Not easy enough. Not nearly easy enough."

And the cost was much too high.

"I told them we needed a body bag." Blakeney swallowed hard and stared at Dorland's body draped over Lanningham's ma.s.sive shoulder. "They're sending one down and have a team up there to help bring him up and an ambulance to take him to the morgue."

"Thanks, sergeant," I said. Now that the fight was over, the post-magic bleed had started, and my head ached. My heart did, too, but that had nothing to do with Tink's withdrawal. "They retrieve the girl?"

"Yeah. I was about to get back into the fight when you showed up."

Then the night wasn't a total, utter cl.u.s.ter. Just mostly.

Soon two policeman climbed down into the sewer adjunct with us and helped send Dorland up to waiting paramedics. They handled the job with care, and I was grateful.

When we came out, we found a somber crowd waiting behind a police barricade. Part of me wanted to rage at them, to ask them if this is what they wanted to see-a dead man, killed so none of them would be? But somehow, I managed to keep my temper in check because they had a right to know-and they needed to understand the burden of their safety.

I tapped the nearest policeman on the shoulder. "Do you speak English?"

The man nodded. "Some."

I gestured at the crowd. "Tell them it's safe now. We got all the demons. They don't have to fear the nights anymore."

He spoke in rapid Arabic and the reaction was swift. Some people hugged one another. Others raised their voices in praise of Allah. All of them looked at us with grat.i.tude and a little sadness. They understood.

Exhausted and soul-sick, I started to push my way through the ma.s.s of people to go back to the hotel. It took a while, though, because they all wanted to touch me.