Angel - Shakedown Part 26

All that mattered was to be ready.

The rumbling stopped. Doyle realized he wasn't dead; the tunnel supports had held.

A few moments later the thick dust was cut by the beams of the returning Serpentene, who'd run up the tunnel when the quake had started. They called Doyle and Ian's name, and Doyle managed to cough out an answer. Ian didn't. He'd been struck by a falling rock and was out cold.

They hauled both of them out, dressed Ian's scalp wound and poured each a medicinal shot of brandy.

Since Ian was still unconscious, Doyle drank his, too.

"How bad is it?" Galvin asked.

"Hard t'say. Our section held, but I don't know how much came down."

"So what do we do?" Cordelia asked.

"We keep diggin'," Doyle said. "And hope we didn't just use up the last of our luck."

Baasalt surveyed the results of his handiwork.

The six stone columns that comprised the Grounding now each sported a pickax. Two of themembers no longer seemed to be functioning, but that did not concern Baasalt. What were two among many-especially when the many were one?

He turned his attention inward, to the newfound unity he'd forged. All the Tremblor minds were as a single being now, an extension of his own will. His thoughts ran through their minds, and theirs through his. But while their minds had been predictable and rigid, his was the rus.h.i.+ng torrent of an underground river, the unrelenting white-hot flow of molten rock. He had created his own ritual, sacrificing his tribe's individuality to shape a new being.

But creating new traditions didn't mean forgetting about old ones. Oh, no. The Crus.h.i.+ng of Souls would go forward as planned-but with the vampire's soul as the Fourth Sacrifice, the race Baasalt would bring forth would be greater than any that had gone before. A race of conquerors, a race composed entirely of Warrior-Priests. They would transform the World, from its Heart to its Skin, and Baasalt would be their leader.

Come,he thought.Come, my children. It is time to gather for the birth of something new.

It is time for the Crus.h.i.+ng of Souls.

It is time for the Dance of the Sleeping Giants.

And in their alcoves, in their caves and tunnels and hidden places in the earth, the Tremblors stirred and began to move. One by one, they convergedon what had been the chamber of the Grounding, and the pool of magma that glowed in its center.

When they came for him, Angel went peacefully.

They marched him down a tunnel, two Tremblors in front of him and two behind. Three other Quake demons carried the still-comatose bodies of the others.

Angel kept his right arm stiff by his side; the steel bar up his sleeve kept him from bending his elbow.

He'd be fine as long as no one asked to shake hands. Somehow, he doubted that would come up.

After a ten-minute hike, he found himself back in the chamber of the Grounding. There had been some changes: the pool of magma seemed fuller than the last time he was there, the temperature had gone from winter in Miami to summer in Death Valley . . . and all six columns of stone now had steel pickaxes embedded in them.

That, and the place was filled with Quake demons.

They stood in a circle around the perimeter of the chamber. Waves of heat rising from the lava pit made the air s.h.i.+mmer. Angel did a quick estimate, and came up with around two hundred; probably the whole tribe, from what his research had indicated.They were still as statues, not even moving their heads to look at Angel and his entourage when they arrived-with two exceptions.

a.s.sociate Rome stood beside one of the columns, drinking a bottle of Perrier. He wiped his brow with a white handkerchief, then waved as if they were two members of a country club running into each other on the golf course.

"Don't mind me," he said. "You won't even know I'm here."

A Tremblor with a pickax protruding from the back of his head nodded at Angel. He stood in the narrow ring between the edge of the lava pit and the six stone columns, which is where the Tremblors laid the limp forms of Fisca, Sarah and the lifeguard, s.p.a.cing them evenly around the pit.

Angel himself was brought face-to-face with Baasalt.

It is fitting that you face your death with your mind intact,Baasalt thought.

"Wish I could say the same about you," Angel answered. "I think you've made a horrible mistake in your interpretation of the phrase 'I'd like to pick your brain.' "

What you Skin-Dwellers call humor, correct? A strange reaction in the face of imminent destruction; I shall have to study it, once I have bent the surface world to my will. So much to learn . . .

"Well, I've been told I'm a h.e.l.luva teacher. My lessons tend to stick for the rest of my pupils'

lives-usually a good two or three seconds. Five, tops."

Then consider this to be my lesson to you.

Baasalt reached out and wrapped one rocky claw around Angel's throat.

Angel tensed, but didn't move. He felt the Tremblor trying to invade his mind; normally that was impossible with a vampire, but Baasalt's mind seemed different, and if the Quake demon sensed his plan, Angel wouldn't have a chance. Angel forced his mind to be still, to be calm, to be blank . . .

To be a void.

Baasalt's probe recoiled suddenly. Angel's mind unsettled him in a deeply conditioned way; as much as all Tremblors loathed large, empty s.p.a.ces, they were completely unused to encountering such a thing on a mental level. Baasalt withdrew, disturbed but still confident.

It was time.

Fellow Tremblors. All of you know the First Story, of how the Ig explored the Body of the World .

Angel recognized the cadence of a ritual begun. He knew the Tremblors' concentration would be focused, that the outside world would mean lessand less as the ritual progressed. He also knew the ritual involved him and the other three being tossed into the pit of lava, but he didn't know exactlywhen.

He had to act now.

Baasalt's claw was still wrapped around his throat. The Quake demon could crush Angel's windpipe simply by closing his fist-which meant the first order of business was getting him to let go.

Angel focused his own concentration. The Tremblors were made of rock and were inhumanly strong, but they still walked on two feet, had arms and legs and hands. From an engineering standpoint, they had many of the same weak spots a human being had; they were simply better armored.

All armor has flaws,Angel thought.All mountains have fissures.

All arms have elbows.

Two feet of tempered steel dropped into his right hand at the flick of a wrist. He crossed his left hand over to join his right in akatana-style grip, and drove the point of the bar sideways into the elbow joint of Baasalt's arm as hard as he could.

The joint snapped, sounding like a sledgehammer cracking granite. The Tremblor lost his grip on Angel as his arm suddenly bent the wrong way.

Angel dropped to a crouch, drew back hisweapon and lunged forward again. This time, he went for Baasalt's knee.

Another loud crack, and Angel was rolling out of the way as Baasalt crashed to the ground. He wound up at the foot of a.s.sociate Rome, who tried to punt him over the lip of the pit.

Angel dodged the kick and leapt to his feet. Rome immediately stepped back, not interested in a fair fight.

As much as Angel wanted to protect the other captives, he simply couldn't do it at the moment. They were too spread out, in hard-to-defend positions. The best he could do was hold his own ground, and hope they couldn't continue the ritual without him.

He backed his way into a small alcove. It was barely more than an indent in the wall of the cave, but it was made of solid rock from floor to ceiling; the Tremblors wouldn't be able to burrow in from behind or underneath him as easily as they could through dirt. At the very least, he'd be able to hear them coming.

No, the only way to attack him now was oneonone-the opening was too narrow to admit more than a single Quake demon at a time.

The first Tremblor rushed forward. Angel rammed the end of the steel bar into the Quakedemon's throat, bringing him to a halt, then kicked him in the chest and sent him sprawling.

Angel summoned his vampire side, his face distorting into a yellow-eyed mask of fury. "Who's next?" he snarled.

Another one rushed him. Angel beat him back with a vicious series of strikes to the eyes and neck. The demon withdrew in pain.

"You're just delaying the inevitable," Rome called out.

"Oh, I don't know. I'm kind of having fun."

You will tire, long before we do,Baasalt thought.

"Think so? I'll tell you what I think. I think if I do enough damage to your troops, they're going to start to doubt you. And once that happens, you're finished. That's the flip side of being a dictator, Baasalt-total control means total responsibility. Something goes wrong, you're the first one to get blamed."

Then I shall have to ensure nothing goes wrong.

The crowd of Tremblors at the mouth of the alcove suddenly parted. Baasalt stood about twenty feet away, beside one of the stone columns of the Grounding. He had a large rock in his hand, which he was hefting experimentally.

I've learned a great deal from you Skin-Dwellers,Baasalt thought. He drew his arm back and launched the rock like a cannonball.

"Not enough," Angel grunted, and swung the bar from his shoulders. It connected solidly with the rock, sending it rocketing straight into the face of another Quake demon. The Tremblor staggered backward a few steps and collapsed.

"That's called a line drive," Angel said. "Good for a single. You want to try for a grand slam, I'm ready."

Rome laughed. "Not bad. A shame there's no place to run."

I suppose,Baasalt thought,we'll have to do this the old-fas.h.i.+oned way, then.

Another Tremblor charged. Angel concentrated on weak spots once more, and managed to drive the demon back. There was another one waiting right behind the first.

It went on and on. Angel couldn't even kill them, just hurt them enough to make them drop back- and be replaced by another.

He knew Baasalt was right. He couldn't keep this up forever.

His world contracted into a mindless rhythm of violence, of strikes and spins and lunges. His arms ached and his lungs burned, but he would not give up . . .

"Typical," a voice said. "Can't leave you alone for a few minutes without you gettin' in a fight."

The Tremblors paused and turned, as one. Doyle stood at the entrance to the cave with a satchel in his hand, and he wasn't alone. A group of Serpentene was gathered around him.

You were foolish to come here,Baasalt thought.Here, we are powerful and you are weak. We will bury you all.

Doyle shook his head. "I don't think so. Even here, you've got a weakness-'Only that which opposes you can oppose you,' right? Took me a long time t'figure out what that meant, but I think I finally did."

Doyle reached into the satchel and pulled something out. He lobbed it overhand at Angel and yelled, "Catch!" at the same time.

Angel s.n.a.t.c.hed it out of the air one-handed, praying it was a weapon.

It was plastic. It was bright pink.

It was a hair-dryer.

"You've gotta be kidding," he groaned.

"Runs on batteries," Doyle said. "And dispenses the element opposite to earth-wind."

Angel understood in a flash. He thumbed the On switch-and shot the nearest Tremblor in the face with a blast of air.

The effect was instantaneous. The Quake demon's head came apart like a sandcastle in a windstorm, leaving only a skull that looked like itwas made of crystal. The Tremblor collapsed, the skull ringing on the rock floor but not breaking.

"Now!" Doyle said.

He moved aside, revealing a bulky shape wrapped in a tarpaulin behind him, one that took up most of the tunnel. The Serpentene yanked the tarp off, revealing their secret weapon: a Hollywood wind machine, a giant portable fan.

The blades began to revolve . . . and the air in the cave began to move.

The reaction of the Tremblors was automatic and instinctive; they tried to escape. Since the cave's only exit was blocked, they tried to make their own, digging into the rocky walls or floor of the cave.

All except Baasalt.

No. I will not be defeated by the Void which Screams. I will not!

He picked up a chunk of rock and c.o.c.ked his arm. Angel knew all it would take to disable the fan would be one hit on the blades.

He brought the hair-dryer up, and blasted hot air over Baasalt's pitching arm. The glossy black rock blew off like fine ash, leaving only the crystalline bone of the arm underneath. The rock fell from fingers like cut diamonds.

Baasalt had enough time to meet Angel's eyes.

But we are Eternal!Baasalt thought.

"You're dust," Angel said.

If the floor of the cave had been dirt, the Tremblors might have stood a chance; but they couldn't dig through the hard rock fast enough, even with their tremor-inducing abilities. The cave began to shake as two hundred frantic Quake demons tried to escape their fate-and failed.

An artificial wind blew through the cave as the fan pumped air. It scoured the rocky flesh from the Tremblors' bones, turning them into gemstone statues that stood for a frozen instant before tumbling to the ground with a glittering clatter. The air swirled with sparkling bits of obsidian.

Something smashed at Angel's feet: Baasalt's skull. Weakened by the hole the pickax had made, it had shattered when it hit the ground.

"Let's get these people out of here," Angel said. "I don't think this cavern is going to hold up much longer." He pointed to the six columns that had held the Grounding; there were big empty gaps in the middle of each of them now.