I’ve gone insane and stupid all
at the same time.
“The door was open.”
“Not the goddamn bedroom. My apartment.”
His eyes go to the gun and then back to me.
“I have another key. Are you going to kill me for
doing my job?”
Glass breaks in the bathroom. Something hits the
wall. Over and over. Someone is going nuts in there.
I shove Brimborion over to the corner of the room.
He’s not going anywhere until I know if contestant number two is someone he
sent. If he’s looking for some payback because of his finger, he’s going to be
disappointed.
The bathroom door swings open slowly and a Hellion
walks out. You could mistake the guy for human if his arms and legs weren’t half
again as long as they should be. And if his skin wasn’t the color of a dead fish
on the ocean floor. He’s wet too. I hear running water. Sounds like he ripped
the sink out of the wall.
“Lahash?” says Brimborion. “What are you doing
here?”
Lahash takes a couple of uncertain steps out of the
bathroom. He looks up but barely registers us. I’m liking Lahash less and less.
The guy is on some major drugs or some heavy hoodoo. The bedroom is huge by
normal non–Lord of the Underworld standards, but if it was the size of a
zeppelin hangar, I still wouldn’t want to be in it with this guy.
“Lahash. I’m talking to you,” says Brimborion. “How
did you get in here?”
I shove Brimborion back against the wall.
“Shut up. There’s something wrong with him.”
Lahash stiffens. Turns his milky-white eyes in my
direction. He recognizes my voice. No point in playing church mouse now.
“Who sent you here, Lahash? Are you looking for me
or something in here?”
He swings his head to the other side of the room
like he’s trying to remember where he is. There’s a brain working somewhere in
his skull but it looks like the wiring is a little frayed.
Brimborion makes a break for the door. I sweep his
feet, cutting him down at the ankles so he falls on his face. Lahash shrieks
like a banshee in a blender and throws himself across the bed, crawling toward
us.
There’s a good twenty feet between Lahash and me. I
shove Brimborion back in the corner with one hand and pull the Glock’s trigger
with the other. The bullet hits Lahash above his left eye. He freezes, arms
stiff. Like I caught him in mid-push-up. A second later his eyes lock back on me
and he’s crawling again. Faster this time.
I put two more shots into his head. He doesn’t
slow. He stands on the bed, knees bent like he’s going to jump. I put five shots
into his chest dead center.
I should have stuck with head shots.
Lahash doesn’t fall. He falls apart. His bones seem
to crack and separate under his skin. Holes in his chest sag into slits and open
like a plastic sandwich bag, only it’s not egg salad on wheat inside. It’s bugs.
Lots and lots of bugs.
Behind me Brimborion alternates between
hyperventilating and doing a passable impression of Little Richard’s falsetto.
I’m kind of at a loss myself. I never tried to beat up bugs before. Do you work
the body or rope-a-dope them?
With nothing better to do, I fire off a few rounds
into the writhing pile. No reaction from the bugs, but I’m pretty sure I
murdered my bed.
The only thing that’s kept Brimborion and me alive
these few seconds is that when the bugs burst out of Lahash, they began eating
him. Now the first wave is getting bored with his dead ass and wants fresh
meat.
I throw some arena hoodoo at the swarm, a simple
slam-down move that feels like someone driving a knee into your solar plexus.
The middle of the swarm stops like it smacked into an invisible wall, but the
other billon little bastards flood around it.
I could do an airburst and explode all the oxygen
in the room. That would kill the bugs, but in an enclosed space like this, it
would blow out my lungs and turn my organs into cat food. Some kind of fire is
my best weapon but this is the wrong terrain. I go for the next best
at the same time.
“The door was open.”
“Not the goddamn bedroom. My apartment.”
His eyes go to the gun and then back to me.
“I have another key. Are you going to kill me for
doing my job?”
Glass breaks in the bathroom. Something hits the
wall. Over and over. Someone is going nuts in there.
I shove Brimborion over to the corner of the room.
He’s not going anywhere until I know if contestant number two is someone he
sent. If he’s looking for some payback because of his finger, he’s going to be
disappointed.
The bathroom door swings open slowly and a Hellion
walks out. You could mistake the guy for human if his arms and legs weren’t half
again as long as they should be. And if his skin wasn’t the color of a dead fish
on the ocean floor. He’s wet too. I hear running water. Sounds like he ripped
the sink out of the wall.
“Lahash?” says Brimborion. “What are you doing
here?”
Lahash takes a couple of uncertain steps out of the
bathroom. He looks up but barely registers us. I’m liking Lahash less and less.
The guy is on some major drugs or some heavy hoodoo. The bedroom is huge by
normal non–Lord of the Underworld standards, but if it was the size of a
zeppelin hangar, I still wouldn’t want to be in it with this guy.
“Lahash. I’m talking to you,” says Brimborion. “How
did you get in here?”
I shove Brimborion back against the wall.
“Shut up. There’s something wrong with him.”
Lahash stiffens. Turns his milky-white eyes in my
direction. He recognizes my voice. No point in playing church mouse now.
“Who sent you here, Lahash? Are you looking for me
or something in here?”
He swings his head to the other side of the room
like he’s trying to remember where he is. There’s a brain working somewhere in
his skull but it looks like the wiring is a little frayed.
Brimborion makes a break for the door. I sweep his
feet, cutting him down at the ankles so he falls on his face. Lahash shrieks
like a banshee in a blender and throws himself across the bed, crawling toward
us.
There’s a good twenty feet between Lahash and me. I
shove Brimborion back in the corner with one hand and pull the Glock’s trigger
with the other. The bullet hits Lahash above his left eye. He freezes, arms
stiff. Like I caught him in mid-push-up. A second later his eyes lock back on me
and he’s crawling again. Faster this time.
I put two more shots into his head. He doesn’t
slow. He stands on the bed, knees bent like he’s going to jump. I put five shots
into his chest dead center.
I should have stuck with head shots.
Lahash doesn’t fall. He falls apart. His bones seem
to crack and separate under his skin. Holes in his chest sag into slits and open
like a plastic sandwich bag, only it’s not egg salad on wheat inside. It’s bugs.
Lots and lots of bugs.
Behind me Brimborion alternates between
hyperventilating and doing a passable impression of Little Richard’s falsetto.
I’m kind of at a loss myself. I never tried to beat up bugs before. Do you work
the body or rope-a-dope them?
With nothing better to do, I fire off a few rounds
into the writhing pile. No reaction from the bugs, but I’m pretty sure I
murdered my bed.
The only thing that’s kept Brimborion and me alive
these few seconds is that when the bugs burst out of Lahash, they began eating
him. Now the first wave is getting bored with his dead ass and wants fresh
meat.
I throw some arena hoodoo at the swarm, a simple
slam-down move that feels like someone driving a knee into your solar plexus.
The middle of the swarm stops like it smacked into an invisible wall, but the
other billon little bastards flood around it.
I could do an airburst and explode all the oxygen
in the room. That would kill the bugs, but in an enclosed space like this, it
would blow out my lungs and turn my organs into cat food. Some kind of fire is
my best weapon but this is the wrong terrain. I go for the next best
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