ABCs dropped Jackie’s legs and stopped to regard Clay. He laughed deeply before saying, “I don’t know what you are. But tonight, I’m going to beat you to death with my bare hands.”
ABCs took a step toward Clay, then stopped in his tracks when he heard the scream.
“Momma!” Elena yelled from behind the far window.
ABCs jerked his head around, fixing his terrible gaze on the small form in the window before Carmen pulled her away.
It was all Clay needed to see. All Evan had to witness. From his crouched lunge position, Clay’s back straightened as he steadied himself with hands on either side of his foot. “Stay focused,” he whispered to himself. This time, it was as if the light of several generations passed through him when the connection with Evan took hold. In an instant, Clay looked up from his crouch, white eyes glowing in the dark courtyard, a snarl on his face as he regained his feet. Together, Clay and Evan, fueled by the Wächtergeist, unleashed a generational roar, which shook the very earth upon which they stood, as if everyone was standing on a large pulsating subwoofer, intense bass passing through it. Debris floated up from the ground and then exploded outward in a shock wave of raw determination. Clay and Evan, the epicenter. ABCs’ red eyes flickered as he stumbled backward. Tripping over Jackie’s legs, he fell roughly on his ass.
Seizing the opportunity, Clay and Evan made for ABCs, who had kicked himself up from his back and landed on his feet with a furious look on his face. Seeing Clay’s approaching form, ABCs fumbled with the .38 in his waistband as he tried to get it out with his left hand.
Clay and Evan noticed the slight delay in getting the handgun out. It would take another few ticks for ABCs to raise it and take aim. In those moments, everything slowed down for the combined energies of the two men. One alive, one dead, linked to the power of a Wächtergeist, intensely focused on the mutual purpose of saving Jackie and Elena. Clay reflected calmly as he remembered how people spoke of everything coming into clear resolution in moments like these. The rate of time passed differently for them. As if everyone around them was in slow motion. Clay knew now that when he amalgamated with Evan, their energies became something more. Something more than they could ever have been apart.
In a rushed motion, the .38 came free from ABCs’ waistband. Raising the gun frantically, he got off two clumsy left-handed shots that were too high. Clay/Evan knelt and spun around under the gunfire to pick up a discarded bottle lying in the courtyard. Planting his left hand and picking the bottle up with his right, they rotated under, then over and into a flat spin. Clay’s right arm whipped around, and he released the bottle finger by finger as if a quarterback gripping a football was throwing a long pass. The forefinger of Clay’s hand trailed off the bottle as he released it, leaving a pointing finger hanging in the air for ABCs to focus on as the bottle rocketed through the air, exploding on his forehead.
ABCs bellowed in agony as he staggered backwards, blood beginning to spill from his forehead and into his blazing red eyes. He wiped his arm across his face and tried to refocus as he staggered in place. He looked up to see the glowing white eyes coming at him. He raised the gun again and opened fire. The bullets flew one by one from the .38 like bursts of fire from the mouth of a coughing dragon.
Once Clay completed his rotation, he’d landed crouched on one knee and one foot, then continued his momentum, bending his upper body down to stay underneath the gunfire as he lunged forward low and powerful. The bullets failed to fully land, narrowly skimming over him, grazing wounds across his back, which caused blood to flow from parallel lines as if he had been clawed by a very large jungle cat. The searing pain from the wounds sent a shock of fury coursing through Clay as he focused his intent on closing the gap with ABCs. Pure white eyes radiating with an increased intensity.
In his abject rage, the red light now emanated more brightly from ABCs’ eyes. Searing dark red with large black pulsing flecks. ABCs stepped forward too, closing in on his adversary. His movement stealthy, almost cat-like, similar to a tiger in the jungle about to take down his prey. The sneer of disgust on his face betrayed his outright hatred for those he was attempting to erase from the moment as he repeatedly pulled the trigger of the now-empty revolver. Click. Click. Click.
Moving quicker now, Clay/Evan continued to surge forward to meet The Alphabet King’s approaching madness. Like a poorly rehearsed oriental theater actor, ABCs stopped, squared his stance, and sunk into it, preparing to kick. Evan recognized the move. He has little fighting skill. Clay stopped short of ABCs to defend himself, not wanting to step head-on into a strike. From Clay and Evan’s perspective, the roundhouse leg kick came around so thoroughly telegraphed that a drunk in a bar fight could have evaded it. Clay shuffled his feet a bit and pulled his head back, watching the attempt swing by in slow motion. ABCs allowed the momentum of the kick to spin him all the way around, his arm following with a fisted backhand that missed its intended target. Won’t be fooled by that bush league move.
Clay’s fists, formerly at his side, came up into a defensive position as the backhand swing passed. While ABCs finished his spin, Clay grounded his back foot, pushed forward, and shot a jab like a cannon, striking ABCs squarely in the chin. ABCs stumbled back, furious, the energy of the monster raging in his system like nitro in a drag car.
“No one hits me!” ABCs screamed. Sick with rage, he came at Clay with another clumsy roundhouse kick, which he easily backed out of. He waited as ABCs completed the rotation and the roundhouse backhand came around, then Clay/Evan stepped in and hit him with a one-two combo, the right cross landed with a thud that shook The Alphabet King’s knees as he stumbled backward once again.
“What the hell!” he exclaimed as he charged Clay again, his arms sweeping in a lunge to grab him in a defensive clench with the purpose of wresting Clay to the ground. Recognizing the tactic, Evan compelled Clay to step out of it, to the left, and bat ABCs’ arms away. Then Clay pivoted, planted his feet, and delivered another devastating right cross to the side of ABCs’ head, which knocked him to the ground. ABCs tried to lift himself up, but fell back, motionless.
Relieved, Clay stepped back in exhaustion and lowered his hands. His chest heaving, his arms dangled at his sides. The concussion from that morning, the trauma to his spine, the gunshot wound, the beatings all catching up to him. He bent over and rested his forearms on his knees as he nursed his labored breathing. His battered physical body showing the fatigue of maintaining the heightened metaphysical energy load for so long.
Then, out of nowhere, the guard who drove the SUV came from behind, shuffling with awkwardly painful steps, his left arm bent close to his chest, nursing a gunshot wound. His upper body swayed unnaturally as he quickly tried to close the gap between him and Clay. Snarling, the guard threw a feral right hook into the back side of Clay’s skull. His head snapped to the side and Clay fell instantly to the ground, the white light slowly fading from his confused gaze.
𓂓
Clutching his left shoulder where Michael’s shot had landed, the remaining guard stepped past Clay and moved to check on a partially unconscious ABCs lying on the ground. He helped him up and they shuffled slowly over to Jackie. Still dazed, ABCs leaned heavily into him. The guard doubted the wisdom of going to such lengths for this guy. He had just gotten all the other guards killed. He did not want to be next. Besides that, he’d really had enough of the goddamn Alphabet King. Now, it appeared he’d just gone too far. But a payout was coming, and the guard needed to hang in there. His family, his children, were counting on that money. Once he received what he was due, maybe he would leave. Until then, he needed to keep this guy moving.
ABCs resisted the guard for a moment while he got his bearings, then lunged at Clay.
The guard held him back. “I took care of him.”
ABCs glowered back at the guard. The red light had faded to a dim outline around the irises of his eyes. “I don’t understand,” ABCs half said to himself. “I should have been more powerful. I should have easily defeated him.” He coughed then spat on the ground beside Jackie. He touched his fingers to his lips and face to feel the wounds and check for blood. His face was battered and bruised. An eye was beginning to swell.
ABCs looked at Clay’s unconscious form, then to Michael. He and the guard were out of ammo. Why not just stomp on his throat? ABCs mused. He walked over and looked down at Clay. He could not think of any prophetic words, so he simply raised his foot to stomp his neck. But before he could, they heard a crack right before another bullet struck inside the compound, then the sound of a distant gunshot. From the darkness beyond the courtyard, he heard the far-away metallic movement of a slide. They had just been fired upon again by a rifle. The round just missed him. He and the guard immediately hunched down and shuffled to the side, away from the view in the gap. He thought for a moment of how he could get out of the cover of the courtyard and to the gunman but decided against it. He told the guard, “Gather the guns.”
The guard looked dismayed. “We have hand and arm wounds. That will slow us, we don’t know if they still have ammo left. Maybe we should get the girls and get into the tunnels. We can regroup on the other side,” the guard suggested.
ABCs looked around at the destruction and then nodded in agreement. Staying out of view, they both bent to take one of Jackie’s legs and pulled her into the main room. Her head bouncing over the bottom edge of the window frame as they unceremoniously dragged her through the shattered glass on the floor. Little cuts in her scalp soaked the back of her head crimson. The movement made her stir, and she murmured something unrecognizable. The guard rolled her over on her stomach and pulled her hands behind her back. She offered no resistance. He took a long zip tie from a pocket and secured her wrists, leaving her lying face-down on the glass-strewn floor.
Finished binding Jackie, the guard stood and crouch-walked over to the SUV to grab two handguns they’d stowed earlier. The Excursion had been riddled with gunfire. The front end torn to pieces. Vapor hissed from the grill. He grabbed the two handguns and gave one last look inside to see if anything else could be used. He noticed a kitchen knife in the backseat, covered in blood. Remembering what that had been used for, the guard didn’t even consider picking it up.
He turned from the truck and crouch-walked back inside. He slowed as he passed Jackie. She still looked unconscious. He reached out a hand to try and rouse her but reconsidered and left her there. He moved to the hallway door and flipped the switch up and down to check the lights. Nothing. He cursed and followed ABCs down the dark hallway to get Elena and the other women.
Chapter Fifteen
Sean pulled his weapon off the roof of the Suburban, stowed it inside, and returned to the driver’s seat. Wisely, he had not attempted any more shots. He was nowhere near as good as his brother. He didn’t want to draw enough attention to bring on an attack, nor did he want to reel off gunfire into the courtyard with his brother, Clay, and Jackie in there. He had been observing through the night scope when he saw ABCs and the guard move to his left and vanish into the darkness.
Martha had remained in the front passenger seat the whole time. Sean noticed she looked oddly calm, almost distracted. “We have to go check on my brother.” He started the SUV and crept forward, lights off.
Martha stayed silent as they approached the opening to the compound. Sean pulled the car off to the left side and parked it behind the wall that had been used for cover. He and Martha opened the doors and got out. Sean retrieved his rifle and silently stalked to the corner of the gap. He paused, holding his weapon up and peered around. He saw Michael on his back, unconscious, and Clay lying on his stomach in the dirt, his head twisted to one side. In order to have any chance at helping them, Sean knew that he needed to tamp down the concern rising inside. If he allowed himself to indulge in his fear for their lives, he would lose his focus.
Sean moved up in the gap and stopped at the next corner, checking lines of sight to make sure there was no movement. He leaned the rifle on the wall and went to his brother. Closing the distance between him and Michael in two steps, Sean reached down, put his hands under Michael’s shoulders, and pulled him around, dragging him back into the relative safety of the gap. He laid him down and waved Martha over.
She had grabbed the duffel with medical supplies and waited near the outside corner of the gap. She lifted the bag, hunched low as she walked over to Michael, checked for a pulse, and assessed his condition. After a moment, she heard his raspy breathing and saw a lot of blood around his shoulder. She looked over the bulletproof vest he wore and noticed how it was pitted with impact marks and gunshot residue. She let out a brief sigh as she reached to his sides and shoulders to pull apart the Velcro. She lifted the front panel of the vest off, pulled up his shirt, and checked his abdomen and chest. No new wounds, but bruising was beginning to show. She thought maybe the original wound near his shoulder had started bleeding again. She reached into the med pack to retrieve the scissors and a roll of clotting gauze. She had watched Jackie dress the wound earlier.
As she worked on Michael, Sean moved back to the corner and peered into the courtyard again. Clay was beginning to stir. His hands moved to lift himself up. Careful not to make any sounds, Sean sprinted to him and lifted Clay to his feet. He threaded his arm under his shoulder and helped him walk back into the gap. He let him down gently, leaning his back against the wall. Sean took out a bottle of the hydration drink, opened it, and lifted it to Clay’s lips. Clay gulped some and then coughed after he swallowed it down. He looked up at Sean gratefully and took the bottle from him. “Go help your brother,” he told Sean.
Sean nodded and moved over to Martha’s side. “How is he?”
“Looks like the vest saved his life, but the original wound started bleeding again. I’ve repacked it with the clotting gauze. He should be okay.”
“Those bullets came from nowhere,” Michael coughed out. His eyes opened to see Sean and Martha leaning over him. “You came to get me,” he said, looking Sean in the eyes.
“Of course,” Sean said back quickly. “But we have to get our shit together. I saw ABCs head into the building but I’m not sure where he went. I’m pretty sure they took Jackie inside. We’re in the gap for now, but we should do something.”
Michael nodded. “Put the front panel of my vest back on.”
Sean helped him with it, then lifted him up to a seated position leaning on the wall. He took another bottle from the bag, opened it, and tried to help Michael drink.
