Dead Men's Tales (Tales of the Brass Griffin Book 5) (42 page)

Over one hundred yards down the hallway, four gunmen walked steadily forward, firing their revolvers in sporadic bursts. Tonks marveled at their skill – or lack thereof – since before he had moved the table into place, Maria and Dr. O’Flynn had no cover to speak of,
yet were still unharmed.

Ian took careful aim, then fired twice. Both bullets struck home as one of the gunmen was flung a step backwards, then collapsed to the floor. The others threw themselves against the wall or flat on the floor in an effort to be as small a target as possible. The pilot smiled grimly, fired once more over the gunmen’s heads, then bolted back into the laboratory to collect Angela and Dr. Hardy.

When Ian arrived, he found Dr. Hardy kneeling beside the young werewolf girl. “What’re ya doin’?” he demanded.

Dr. Hardy jumped at Ian’s sudden outburst. He looked at the pilot over the rims of his glasses. “Young man, I’ve been forced to do many things for those blackguards. No matter how bloody my hands are, or how they got that way, I am still a scientist and a doctor. If you help see our way free, I will lend what aid I can. I will also explain much of what you might only suspect is going on.” Dr. Hardy returned his attention to examining Angela’s pulse.

Ian hesitated. Dr. Hardy’s manner had changed somewhat from a moment ago; he seemed more self-assured in his surroundings. However, if he was – as Ian suspected – a captive here, the hope of escape might have galvanized the elderly doctor. Before the pilot could reply, Dr. Hardy riveted him with the stern look of a medical man in his element.

“Young man, you’re wasting precious time. This is my job. I need you to do yours,” the elderly doctor said in a firm, grandfatherly tone. Dr. Hardy quickly hurried over to a far table, then returned with a bottle marked ‘smelling salts’. He popped the cork, waving it under Angela’s nose.

In the midst of a ragged sigh, Ian abruptly turned his head and coughed again, feeling as if an invisible hand clutched at his chest. The coughs quickly subsided, replaced by a gnawing hunger inside him, slowly rising like a demented beast.

“Not now,” Ian muttered to himself
 
under his breath, ignoring through sheer force of will the intense cravings for the Hellgate elixir. While he pushed the urges from his mind, he ran back to the doorway to see if the remaining gunman had moved.

A step before he would have raced out into the open, several shots rapidly peppered the table where his hand would have eventually reached. Bullets hammered the makeshift shield, steadily tearing chunks of wood away far more accurately than they had seconds before. Ian jumped back in alarm, instinctively looking across the hall to the two women.

Dr. O’Flynn remained where she was, cowering behind the oak table for whatever protection it still provided. Dr. Von Patterson was rewinding the clockwork spider; apparently it had not yet managed to unfasten the padlock. Ian crouched low, peeking once around the bottom edge of the doorframe. His breath caught at the sight: Peter Bauer was now with the three surviving gunmen, and had brought
four riflemen bearing Winchester ’76 lever-action rifles!

Ian rubbed his eyes, mind racing for a solution. He cleared his thoughts as best he could, focusing on the situation; the rifle fire was sporadic, yet dangerously accurate. They were also now outnumbered two to one, and he was the only one with a firearm of any kind. Peter Bauer would most likely try to keep the scientists alive, but Ian had little hope for anyone else’s survival. The pilot needed something with which to buy more time for Dr. Von Patterson to get the door unlocked. 

The room was still packed with chemicals, though Ian knew he lacked the skill to make any use of them. At best he could toss some of the boiling liquids at anyone who happened to venture close. However, he doubted any of the gunmen would come near enough for that tactic to work. The rifles barked again in the hallway; more of the wooden table cracked, split, then tore away, leaving holes bored right through the crude barrier.

Ian searched his pockets until he found the small vial still half-full with the yellow Fomorian elixir. Immediately after, he rushed over to the dead guard, searching his body until he located a similar, full vial. The pilot sighed heavily, hearing his heart pound in his ears. He knew what the
poison would do if he drank it all. He also knew he would be able to survive the gunfire – if only
 
he could retain his sanity. At the least, it would provide a formidable distraction to allow Dr. Hardy to move Angela across to her mother.

After a brief, silent prayer, Ian pulled the corks off both vials while the rifle fire began again outside.

T
he volley of gunfire ricocheted off the edge of the battered oak table, sending a hailstorm of splinters in all directions! Bullets rebounded into the room, screaming through the air. Stabbing, white-hot pain lanced Tonks’ left arm. He yelped in surprise, then ducked instinctively as he quickly ran to the far side of one of the laboratory tables. Glass on the table exploded as the bullets ripped through the fragile equipment; noxious chemicals sprayed into the air then spilled over onto the floor.

Next to the table, Dr. Hardy waved the smelling salts beneath Angela’s snout. At first nothing happened, then the girl whimpered before she sneezed violently. Her eyes abruptly opened, then closed as she moaned.

Ian looked at his arm while the volley subsided: near his shoulder, the shirt had been ripped open and trickles of blood trailed down his arm. Grimacing, Ian involuntarily licked his lips; his hands shook from the raw craving that threatened to overwhelm his rational mind. The pilot made to drink the vials of Hellgate elixir, but a firm, gentle hand from Dr. Hardy held him still.

"Don’t," Dr. Hardy said quickly. "There’s another way."

Gunfire roared again, this time followed by Peter Bauer's muffled order to advance on the barricade. Ian glanced nervously towards the door while Dr. Hardy quickly snatched up several containers – some showed labels such as “vinegar”, others had no label but were filled with various ground powders and caustic oils. The powders he quickly dumped into a large empty bottle that, to Tonks, looked very much like it had once contained a fine single malt scotch whiskey.

"Trust an old tinkerer," the elderly doctor said with a grin. Carefully, he poured the vinegar into the scotch bottle. When it was a little over half full, he stood up and glanced out the door.

“Your Dr. Von Patterson has the door unlocked,” he explained, setting the empty container out of the way as he swirled the mixture gently.

Ian gratefully replaced the stoppers in his elixir vials,
shoving them into a vest pocket. He jumped in surprise when Dr. Hardy pushed the larger corked bottle, its contents furiously bubbling, into his hands.

“Quickly! Throw it at the gunmen before they fire, then run!” the wizened scientist instructed. “I can help the young lady!”

A bullet ricocheted nearby, causing Tonks to duck slightly out of habit. “What does it do?”

“No time to explain!” Dr. Hardy replied, snatching up a worn leather notebook from a nearby table, then helping a very groggy, unsteady Angela to her feet. “Throw it, man! Before the cork pops!”

The pilot abruptly bolted, wide-eyed, for the door. He careened into the doorframe and peeked out into the hall, ducking back just before another round of bullets tore past his head. Taking a quick breath, Ian rushed into the hallway, hurling the bottle down the hall towards Bauer and his men. With almost no time left, the pilot raced across, Dr. Hardy and Angela close behind.

Bauer froze the moment he saw the bottle and its clear, frothing contents. Without a second thought, he threw himself to the floor to avoid any shrapnel.

“Take cover!” he shouted out in warning, though the riflemen with him had already followed his example. All along the hallway, the advancing Fomorians dropped to the floor or crouched against the wall, away from the perceived threat.

The bottle arced through the air, sailing in between the knot of men; at last it crashed to the stone floor, broken glass scattering in all directions. The mixture, free from its container, rapidly expanded, flooding the air around the Fomorians with a white-gray smoke.

Ian reached the open door across the hall first; inside, Maria was fiddling with a loose stone in the far wall. Huddled on the floor was a white-faced and panic-stricken Dr. O’Flynn. The pilot turned around just as Dr. Hardy drew up next to him with Angela. Down the hall, sixty yards away, Bauer and his men looked at growing white fog, confused.

“Open fire!” Bauer shouted angrily, getting to his feet. He coughed as his eyes started to water furiously. Around him, the Fomorians scrambled to recover their rifles, taking aim at Ian, Dr. Hardy, and Angela, but none pulled the trigger. The caustic fog had already invaded their noses and eyes, leaving them doubled over on the floor, wheezing for air.

Ian, coughed briefly, then frowned at the older man. “Ya said it would explode!”

Dr. Hardy gave Ian a grin, then patted the man on the shoulder. “I said ‘before the cork pops’, my boy, not explode. However, I do think we’ve worn out our welcome!”

Inside the small
 
square cell, Maria Von Patterson smiled when the brick with which she had been struggling gave a small click. She pushed it, and a six-foot-tall section of stone swung open to darkness.

“Gentlemen!” Maria said, pulling Dr. O’Flynn clumsily to her feet. “This way!”

Quickly picking up Angela, Ian raced into the room and through the hidden door; Dr. Hardy followed close behind. Once the others were inside the hidden passageway, Maria pushed Dr. O’Flynn through, then stepped in afterwards, pushing the concealed door shut behind her.

“Often these old castles have a ‘rabbit hole’ or two for emergencies,” Dr. Maria Von Patterson explained, deftly relocking the ancient mechanism. “Fortunately, I came across this particular route during the first attempt we made to free ourselves from Bauer’s people.”

Once the device obediently gave a satisfying click to indicate the latch was secured, the doctor explored the walls with her outstretched hands. After a moment, her fingers discovered the familiar cylindrical metal and glass shape of an arc lantern.

Ian carefully set Angela on her feet. The young werewolf braced herself against the wall
 
while she steadied herself on her rear paws.

“Ya got yer head clear?” Tonks asked in concern.

Angela found his hand in the darkness and gave it a small squeeze. “Jus’ feelin’ a bit muddled,” she replied sleepily. The girl yawned. “I’ll be better in a moment.”

The pilot nodded, then tried to peer
about the dank, close hallway while Maria wound the key on the arc lantern’s mechanism. The woman was rewarded with a soft electric blue glow that filled the small space around the little group.

“All this? A castle?” Ian asked in amazement. “If there is a castle with Fomorians runnin’ about, why hasn’t anyone noticed?”

“Also … if I may?” Dr. Hardy added, “I expected someone to be in that room we just left. I could always hear the moaning.”

With a last look at the concealed door, Maria gestured past the group into the darkness. “This way, I’ll explain while we walk. If we stay here, we still might be discovered, and we do not need Bauer and his ilk finding this passage.”

Maria grabbed Dr. O’Flynn by the arm, guiding the distraught
and rather ill-tempered
woman to walk in front.

“I want you where I can see you, my dear,” Dr. Von Patterson said icily.

“They’ll find yer little door,” Dr. O’Flynn snapped. “When they do, they’ll kill ya all.”

Maria gave the lady scientist a nasty smile. “Well, that just may be. However, I suspect – given all the trouble that’s taken place – Bauer may be in such an ill temper that you might share our fate, whether you wish to or not. Now, march!”

The group quickly left the concealed door behind. With Maria’s directions, they swiftly made their way along the hidden corridor. Soon another blue glow, similar to their own arc lantern, appeared in the distance.

“With regards to my remarks about a castle, Mr. Wilkerson, yes it is, indeed,” Maria explained. “However, you’ll find it more complete below ground than above.”

“How do ya mean?” Tonks asked curiously, suppressing another small coughing fit.

“I’m not entirely certain where in the Scottish Highlands we are, but this castle – or at least what’s left of it – is quite ancient
due to its age and the era when it was originally built, it apparently was on a location that over time was flooded by a nearby river. This submerged a good bit of it, leaving the rest to fall into ruin,” Dr. Von Patterson replied. “From what I’ve seen of the damage to the walls, the river later changed. By that point the upper portions had long since collapsed leaving very little trace behind. I suspect Bauer and his associates have taken some pains to clear out the submerged corridors. All in an effort to make this into their own private warren for their vile little project.” 

“Brilliant,” Ian replied, carefully running his fingers over the damp stone walls in amazement.

Dr. Hardy pushed his smudged glasses up from the end of his nose. “As for the room?”

Maria laughed softly. “The ‘haunted’ room? Something the engineer from the
Fair Winds
dreamt up. Some of Bauer’s less educated jackals are rather superstitious. Seeing as we couldn’t locate a proper apparition to assist us, we invented one or two and placed them strategically about the castle.”

The elderly doctor chuckled. “I often wondered why they seemed rather nervous. You’ve been busy since your arrival, Madam.”

“They’ve been ruinin’ our work, you old fool!” Dr. O’Flynn shot hatefully at Dr. Hardy. “They’re the ones who’ve been knockin’ holes in the vats and stealin’ parts! They haven’t forgotten your part in this, ya know! It’s not like they’ll just suddenly forgive and forget!”

Dr. Hardy gave the woman a stern glare. “No, I’m sure they haven’t. Even though what I did was against my own will, I’m prepared to take whatever judgment comes for my sins, Doctor. I’m quite at peace with my fate. Are you?”