piece.”
“Why should I worry? I’ve got two jarheads to handle these guys, right?”
“Lucky for you.”
I smiled at him. Bags are shit with guns, the worms make them shake and tremble when they get excited. They’re also psychotically aggressive and fast as hell, which means they can and will get in close. And they always carry something sharp.
Everyone jumped at the sound of glass breaking. A dull thump followed. The bags had thrown something heavy out of a window. They knew the piece was around here somewhere, they could probably sense it, but they weren’t sure exactly where. Good thing our side was a little more precise.
“Anne, where are they?”
She answered instantly. “Back of the house, in Henry’s bedroom.”
Carlos snorted. “What are you, Miss Cleo?”
Leon glanced at Henry, who nodded. “Tell me when they head this way.”
“Got it.”
“Henry,” I said, “give me the altar piece.” He handed it to me, and I loosened my belt and tucked it against my lower back, with the spines pointing outward. I snugged the belt tight between the two spines, strapping it to me. It was cold and unpleasant as hell, but those fuckers already had my piece and Patrick’s. I wasn’t losing this one.
Another crash from the house. Carlos went to the door.
“Okay, I think me and Leon should surprise them while they’re busy in the house. Take ‘em out before they know we’re here. You folks stay put.”
Leon trotted up and put his back against the wall, gun pointed at the ceiling. Carlos stood in front of the door and flexed his fingers on the grip of his pistol. He whispered to Leon.
“On three, I’ll go right, you go left. Ready?” Leon nodded and shifted his weight from foot to foot. Carlos put one hand on the knob. “One.”
The door flew open, and Carlos was yanked out of the doorway and into the yard. I moved a split second before Leon, letting me hit him in the legs as he was pivoting into the doorway to pursue. A shotgun boomed as we connected, and Leon was thrown back over my shoulder as I hit the ground.
I caught a glimpse of Carlos dangling by the neck from the hand of the bigger baitbag as I slapped the door shut from the floor, but it just bounced right back open.
Carlos’s eyes were a vivid, horrifying red and he was drooling blood from the sudden increase in pressure as his neck was crushed.
I scrambled to my feet. Leon was already sitting up, his gun pointed squarely through the doorway. The bag was long gone, leaving Carlos in a twisted heap on the grass.
I crept forward and looked left and right out of the doorway. Nothing. I quickly yanked the door closed to prevent them from being able to target us from outside, and went to check on Leon.
He was bleeding from the shoulder and the side of his head. The blood was black on his BDU’s. I knelt by his side and inspected the wounds. It looked like he had taken the edge of the blast, with a few pellets tearing through his ear and cheek, and a few more lodging in his shoulder. Two inches over, and he’d be missing half of his head. His eyes never moved from the door, and his hands were rock steady. “Leon, you okay?”
“Carlos is dead.”
“I know.”
“That motherfucker just yanked him off his feet. Just like that. Crushed his neck like a beer can.”
“Those men aren’t like regular people …”
“I know what a baitbag is, I’ve heard the stories all my life from my uncle.” He grunted and stood up. “I heard, but I didn’t understand.”
I stood up with him and pulled the heavy baton from its sheath. It came free with a loud scraping sound. “Anne! What happened to my warning?”
“He wasn’t there before the door opened! I swear, just in the house!”
“How many in the house?” I knew better, but I couldn’t keep from asking, the same as I had done to Patrick time and again.
“How do I fucking know? You smell cookies baking in the kitchen, do you know how many are in there? I’m getting
“Why should I worry? I’ve got two jarheads to handle these guys, right?”
“Lucky for you.”
I smiled at him. Bags are shit with guns, the worms make them shake and tremble when they get excited. They’re also psychotically aggressive and fast as hell, which means they can and will get in close. And they always carry something sharp.
Everyone jumped at the sound of glass breaking. A dull thump followed. The bags had thrown something heavy out of a window. They knew the piece was around here somewhere, they could probably sense it, but they weren’t sure exactly where. Good thing our side was a little more precise.
“Anne, where are they?”
She answered instantly. “Back of the house, in Henry’s bedroom.”
Carlos snorted. “What are you, Miss Cleo?”
Leon glanced at Henry, who nodded. “Tell me when they head this way.”
“Got it.”
“Henry,” I said, “give me the altar piece.” He handed it to me, and I loosened my belt and tucked it against my lower back, with the spines pointing outward. I snugged the belt tight between the two spines, strapping it to me. It was cold and unpleasant as hell, but those fuckers already had my piece and Patrick’s. I wasn’t losing this one.
Another crash from the house. Carlos went to the door.
“Okay, I think me and Leon should surprise them while they’re busy in the house. Take ‘em out before they know we’re here. You folks stay put.”
Leon trotted up and put his back against the wall, gun pointed at the ceiling. Carlos stood in front of the door and flexed his fingers on the grip of his pistol. He whispered to Leon.
“On three, I’ll go right, you go left. Ready?” Leon nodded and shifted his weight from foot to foot. Carlos put one hand on the knob. “One.”
The door flew open, and Carlos was yanked out of the doorway and into the yard. I moved a split second before Leon, letting me hit him in the legs as he was pivoting into the doorway to pursue. A shotgun boomed as we connected, and Leon was thrown back over my shoulder as I hit the ground.
I caught a glimpse of Carlos dangling by the neck from the hand of the bigger baitbag as I slapped the door shut from the floor, but it just bounced right back open.
Carlos’s eyes were a vivid, horrifying red and he was drooling blood from the sudden increase in pressure as his neck was crushed.
I scrambled to my feet. Leon was already sitting up, his gun pointed squarely through the doorway. The bag was long gone, leaving Carlos in a twisted heap on the grass.
I crept forward and looked left and right out of the doorway. Nothing. I quickly yanked the door closed to prevent them from being able to target us from outside, and went to check on Leon.
He was bleeding from the shoulder and the side of his head. The blood was black on his BDU’s. I knelt by his side and inspected the wounds. It looked like he had taken the edge of the blast, with a few pellets tearing through his ear and cheek, and a few more lodging in his shoulder. Two inches over, and he’d be missing half of his head. His eyes never moved from the door, and his hands were rock steady. “Leon, you okay?”
“Carlos is dead.”
“I know.”
“That motherfucker just yanked him off his feet. Just like that. Crushed his neck like a beer can.”
“Those men aren’t like regular people …”
“I know what a baitbag is, I’ve heard the stories all my life from my uncle.” He grunted and stood up. “I heard, but I didn’t understand.”
I stood up with him and pulled the heavy baton from its sheath. It came free with a loud scraping sound. “Anne! What happened to my warning?”
“He wasn’t there before the door opened! I swear, just in the house!”
“How many in the house?” I knew better, but I couldn’t keep from asking, the same as I had done to Patrick time and again.
“How do I fucking know? You smell cookies baking in the kitchen, do you know how many are in there? I’m getting
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