The Missing Boatman Part 53

And squeezed.

The sudden grunt of agony escaping Lucy made Tony break into another charge of three steps. Pain's eyes flashed and halted him.

"You must hate this lady," Pain said through clenched teeth, smiling over Lucy's head. "The closer you get to me, man, the more I'm gonna love her. You got that? You got that?"

"Okay," Tony barely got out. He backed up three steps. "This good?"

"That's good," Pain agreed. He twisted the good arm of Lucy up behind her back, placing stress on the joint. She moaned, placing her forehead against Pain's ma.s.sive chest.

"Wait!" Tony roared, holding out his hands. "Just wait!"

"You tellin' me to wait while you got that axe in your hand?" Pain countered.

Tony regarded the axe. "You let her go if I drop the axe?"

Pain looked amused. "Sure. Why not?"

The glib response woke Tony up. It was as Death said. Pain was just amusing himself. With Lucy. With them all. He was just playing with Tony, having a good old time. He had no intention of letting Lucy go. Not until he extracted from her every excruciating drop of suffering he could get. Then, he would move on. To Tony. To Death. Tony shook his head. There was only one way to put Pain down. There was only one way to stop the madness. He realized it now, only when the woman he had feelings for had sacrificed herself to make him realize it.

One could not bargain with Pain. One could not reason with it.

One could only... suppress it. Endure it. Until he took you.

His throat constricting, Tony took a step backwards. "Lucy," he called out.

Her head turned ever so slightly. The movement made Pain glance down.

"Lucy, I'm sorry," Tony said in a begging voice.

"Tony," Lucy called back weakly. "Go!"

Tony grunted, and ran back towards the cabin.

"Hey!" Pain shouted after him. "HEY! I'll..." he glanced at Lucy again.

The b.i.t.c.h was smiling.

With a roar Pain crushed her back and rib cage in one quick bear killing hug. Lucy gasped and went limp. Pain threw her aside like broken wood. He knew what the game was. He knew the stakes. He also knew he had been a fool. Stupid!

He charged, screaming for blood.

Tony heard the battle cry. He ran as fast as he could through the snow. He could hear the monster pounding after him. If the big man caught him, it was all over. Tony was five feet away from the cabin door.

Behind him, Pain saw the Mundane running straight back for the cabin. Simultaneously, he felt that same sweet vibe in the air that he had only just recently begun to sense but lose before he could fix on the exact location. He fixed on it now. Pain bared his fully restored teeth in a feral grin. The man did not have a chance. Pain could move at the speed of pain, like a guided missile. As long as he had the direction. And he was headed in the direction of Death right now.

Snarling, Pain warped. He aimed to be waiting for the man just as he entered the cabin. That would truly freak the Mundane out. Pain would then gloat for a few moments before ripping the little b.a.s.t.a.r.d's head from his shoulders. Then he realized something suddenly was terribly wrong.

The warp had stopped just as soon as it had begun.

He saw Tony pa.s.s through the doorway of the cabin.

Pain's eyes went wide. Froth began to form at the corners of his mouth. He realized then what had happened even as he brought all of his incredible strength to bear, even as he strained to move his powerful limbs and frame faster than they presently were. But he was moving no faster than glacial ice. Rage exploded within him.

His warp had not failed him.

His warp had been slowed!

Pain roared in fury. He then realized with even greater chagrin that even his own voice had been slowed.

TIME!.

Tony pa.s.sed into the living room and immediately moved to the waiting form of Death on the couch. He lay there, looking relieved and relaxed, with his empty bottle of Jack Daniels in his lap. He had drawn the blanket up to his chest for greater comfort. When Tony came into the room, Death gave a little satisfied smile.

"You believe me now?" Death asked.

"Yeah," Tony answered.

With tears in his eyes, he crossed the s.p.a.ce between them and buried the hatchet deep into Death's skull.

Chapter 77.

Like a water balloon bursting after being filled beyond capacity, all across the world, people began to die again.

In England, in an extensive burn unit located in a York hospital, fifty four survivors that were more melted slabs of flesh than human, expired at the exact same time. The sudden death of all the ferry disaster survivors in the English Channel would later spark a savage investigation of the hospital staff, and a ferocious debate over euthanasia would flood the media for weeks. In the end however, no one person would be held accountable for the deaths.

In Barcelona, Spain, twenty-two of the children poisoned at a day-care centre finally went to sleep and did not wake up. The remainder of the victims would live on without the ability to speak.

In a hospital in the southern district of Baghdad, the still living, writhing flesh of fifteen bomb victims consisting of women, children and men ceased moaning and perished.

In New York, Doctors Garlich and Roeder as well as about a dozen medical a.s.sistants, exhausted from their endless hours in the morgue studying a total of six individuals that simply refused to die, straightened up and stared. The room that was filled with moans of pain only seconds ago had become eerily silent.

In his apartment, frustrated with his lack of courage and only just coming out of the ma.s.sive drunk of the night before, Ted Myer, sitting on his couch in his undergarments, picked up his snub nosed .38 and angled it at his right temple. There was nothing to fear. He was not going to die. Why did he waste so much time over nothing?

"Ah f.u.c.k" it Ted wanted to say as he pulled the trigger.

And got the surprise of his death.

Chapter 78.

When Tony came to, he discovered he had lost consciousness and collapsed on the rug. He gazed up at the ceiling, blinking slowly, and for a brief moment, wondered where he was. Then, he remembered everything. He remembered Time and Freddy visiting him long ago. He remembered leaving his mother and driving across the country in hours. He remembered Paradise, and the first time he met pain-in-the-a.s.s Death.

He remembered a smiling Lucy and her dark Asian eyes.

A great sigh left him, and he blinked. He was cold, he realized, and sat up.

There, watching him from the couch with his black, unfriendly glare was Fear.

The man brought a grimace to Tony's face. He noticed then for the first time in a while that he was still wearing a coat covered in a lot of blood. The Minions back at the car. He never did clean his coat off. Or any other part. He felt sticky all over. He looked back to Fear sitting patiently on the couch.

"Where's Death?"

Fear took a moment before answering him. "Gone back."

"He went back?" Tony asked.

"That's what I just said."

a.s.shole, Tony thought.

"But... you'll be seeing him, again," Fear rumbled. "But not from the Cancer. He took that out of you. As a gift."

What was it Death said to him? Tony remembered. "How do you think you found me? Huh? How do you think you got here? Just following your nose?"

"What about Lucy?" Hope surged within Tony.

"She went back, too."

Tony felt a rush of misery. "You mean she's dead?"

Fear looked at him. "I mean, she went back."

That brought a heavy feeling of sadness. He wanted to see Lucy, again. He wanted to... hope that she could have stayed with him. "Why did you stay?" Tony asked. Of all the people, why Freddie?

"I'm special," Fear said with a little sarcastic smile. That did nothing to improve the sense of loss flooding Tony's heart and mind. Recognizing unhappiness when Fear allowed himself to, he decided to let Tony have his moment of grief. He allowed him exactly ten seconds before speaking again.

"Hey," he said. Fear only had a short time, too, and d.a.m.ned if he was going to spend it watching a Mundane remembering sad songs. "Everything's okay now."

Tony blinked. "What?"

"Everything's okay now. It's all good again."

"It is?"

Fear did not repeat himself.

"My mom?"

After a moment's hesitation, Fear nodded solemnly. There were things that even he did not violate.

"Was it... was it..." Tony could not finish his question.

"Painless," Fear stated quietly, and looked towards the sun. "Think of it... as another gift."

The rush of tears to his eyes surprised Tony, and for several seconds, he did nothing to stop them. Then, he remembered who he was speaking to. He wiped his eyes with his palms, giving a quiet word of thanks for the pa.s.sing of his mother.

"You say things are okay now, right? But for how long?" he asked.

Jesus, Fear thought. The sc.r.a.pper wasn't satisfied. Fear couldn't hang around here for long, it was turning his guts. Sensitivity was not his job. "That depends on you now, doesn't it? You got a word to spread, right?"

Fear stood up. When he did, Tony saw the empty bottle of Jack Daniels lying on the couch. He was momentarily fascinated with the bottle as Fear walked casually to the door and paused. "I've been told to inform you that there is a fire truck on the main road. That's your best bet for you and the others to get back."

The others? Tony thought.

"There are cars, but they're probably snowed in. And the money that's owed you is in your apartment. Those cars, though, d.a.m.ned if I know if they'll start. But then who knows, maybe Lady Luck's still with you," Fear grumped. He lingered in the doorway, resplendent in the new sun.

"Who?" Tony managed to get out.

In response, Fear pulled on his black toque, pulling it down over that strangely shaped head of his. He flipped up the collar of his winter trench coat. Half his mouth hitched up in what he thought pa.s.sed as a smile, and he presented it to Tony. Then, he nodded in the direction of the great outdoors.

Before Tony could ask another word, Fear stepped outside.

Clambering to his feet, Tony rushed to the open doorway. The air was cold and crisp, and Fear was nowhere to be seen. The snow was marred from the battle fought between the two cabins on the country road, but Tony saw three figures lying still. There was no sign of the thing called Pain. There was no sign of Lucy. No sign of Lady Luck. G.o.ddess of Fortune. Tony remembered the cars. That was one trick suddenly clear to him. Lucy.

It made him smile just a little.

The sun was just over a range of treetops and a dark outline of mountains. Sunlight beamed down on three broken bodies lying in the snow. Tony walked to them. The others were lying in white, beaten down drifts stained with great gobs of blood.

The others were seriously f.u.c.ked up.

Tony walked and dropped to his knees at Danny's side. Danny was the only one he knew. Tony inspected the mess of him. He wanted to shake the man, but he was afraid Danny's head might come loose and simply roll off his shoulders. And of the three, Danny appeared to be in the best condition. They couldn't be alive.

"Jesus H." Tony whispered and was unable to finish.

From where Danny lay in the snow, a single eye cracked open, squinting at the sun.

"Tony?" the big man asked, in a strained, pain-filled voice.

"Oh, s.h.i.+t," Tony whispered "Danny?"

"That you?" Danny asked weakly.

"Yeah, it's me."