Hero's Curse (12 page)

I was debating whether or not to switch out my drum mag to a fully loaded one when I realized I had forgotten to hang replacement magazines on my belt. Fuck! It was a good thing I hadn’t needed an emergency reload. I had just finished putting my replacement magazines on my belt when I heard more Redcaps coming toward me. I still wasn’t sure how to gauge my super hearing so I didn’t know how far away they were. I took off away from them. The two Redcaps I had killed hadn’t been carrying any torches. They probably had infrared vision. I hoped so; my plan wouldn’t work otherwise.

I’ve never been in a storm drain system before today. I was surprised by the length of some of the tunnels. I guess I shouldn’t have been. The drains likely had a pattern similar to the streets above. In Salt Lake City, a city block is about one tenth of a mile, or one hundred and seventy-six yards. A hundred yards from the bodies, I stopped. The other elves hadn’t gotten to the intersection yet. I went into the kneeling firing position. Because of the distance, I switched out to a box magazine of stabilized slugs, and put the drum mag filled with buckshot on the ground within easy reach. I flipped up the peep sight and set it to a hundred yards. Should I use my GPS app to get the exact distance? I decided not. My armor was opaque to infrared. I should be invisible to the Redcaps. If I pulled out my phone I’d be screaming, ‘Here I am!’

I understood why the storm drains didn’t smell bad; they had an extremely efficient cleaning service. The cooling bodies were now entirely covered by a carpet of small red lights. If I listened carefully, I could hear the hundreds of tiny mouths ripping at freshly dead flesh. Right around the three minute mark of waiting, eight Redcaps trotted into view. They started kicking at the rats. The covering of rodents was so dense, it took a few seconds for them to realize their dead friends were underneath.

The Redcaps started screaming in grief and rage. I hadn’t fired before because it was hard to keep a bead on someone kicking and stomping on rats. When the elves started yelling, they stopped moving. I hadn’t fired Sanguinis with stabilized slugs except for the few practice rounds. I kept it simple by aiming at the center of the mass. Three of them fell before they realized they were under attack.

My opponents were pros. The best way to respond to an ambush is to charge through it, and they did. It’s harder to hit a moving target. I winged two before I went through my magazine. An Olympic sprinter can run a hundred yards in nine seconds. The Redcaps were faster. I’d never been charged before and I fumbled my magazine change. By the time I had my drum magazine loaded, a Redcap was on top of me. I fired on full auto; his body jerked in a continuous stream of double-ought buck shot. I realized this was a mistake when I ran dry, and two fae were left.

I closed my eyes and screamed, “Lux!” Even with closed eyes, the flash of light was bright enough to hurt. Their screams of aggression turned into cries of pain. As soon as I opened my eyes, I lunged for the Popeye closest to me. His eyes were tearing; he couldn’t see. My bayonet plunged through his nose and into his brain. He slid off my blade as he collapsed.

The last Redcap charged. I jumped into the air and screamed, “Gecko!” My boots were firmly locked on the ceiling. I kept my knees and hips bent to decrease my height; the momentum of his charge caused him to run below me. His eyes must have recovered because he was staring up in surprise when I speared him between the eyes.

When I dropped to the ground, I was exhausted. In the middle of changing magazines and getting reserve ammo from my backpack to put on my belt, I realized my gasping breath had been drowning out the sounds of multiple quiet footsteps coming from behind. As I spun, I felt something hit me, knocking me forward. I rolled to my feet instinctively. I wasn’t used to carrying a shotgun; I’d left it on the ground. “Sanguinis!”

There were too many Redcaps to count, just fifty feet away. The air filled with javelins. I skipped backwards, turned, and took off running toward the intersection. It slowed me down to weave and dodge. Luckily, the elves couldn’t run and throw accurately at the same time. It evened out. At the intersection, I crouched behind the corner of the right hand tunnel.

I swung Sanguinis around the corner with only my shotgun and my right arm showing, and sprayed my entire magazine in the general direction of my enemies. After I ran empty, I stood up, changed magazines, and peeked down the tunnel.

I was shooting three inch, 12 gauge shells. In the four seconds it took to empty my drum, I sent two hundred and forty .30 caliber lead pellets down a ten foot wide tunnel; every pellet that hit a wall ricocheted. Because of my super strength and the AA-12’s minimal recoil, I had been able to keep Sanguinis level at knee height one-handed. It’s hard to run when you’ve been hit by buckshot. Even the ones that hadn’t been hit were moving slower. I had enough time to take seven aimed shots before a particularly aggressive elf almost got close enough to spear me. Being this close had advantages for both of us. I didn’t have to aim to hit him. I screamed, ‘Lux!’ This time I looked away and closed my eyes. The blast of light wasn’t quite as painful. When I opened my eyes I didn’t see spots.

I didn’t stay to chat. I took off running as fast as I could. Until now, I had been able to use the infrared glow of the Redcaps and the rats to see where I was going. I don’t know if it was the noise the Redcaps were making or the light blast I had set off, but the rats had disappeared.

I was about to say, ‘Lumen’ when I had an idea. “Harley!” Within seconds I heard the pop-pop…pop-pop idling of a Harley-Davidson. I ran headlong toward the sound. I jumped on the bike from behind like a stunt man in a 1950’s cowboy flick. While in the air I sent Sanguinis back to Aidan.

I took off as iron javelins pierced the dirt all around me. As soon as I twisted the throttle, Harley’s headlights flipped on. Within thirty seconds and a few intersections, I had gained hundreds of yards on the Redcaps. I stopped about two hundred yards from the last intersection and called Sanguinis back me. She was fully loaded. I got off my bike and got into the kneeling position. I switched to a box mag. As I waited for the angry elves, I sucked down the Gatorade as fast as I could. The extra cups of sugar in the sports drink should have made it undrinkable; it was nectar. The rumble of Harley behind me was too loud for me to listen for the elves. I wasn’t about to turn her off. I might need another quick getaway.

I fired as soon as I saw one enter the intersection. His head ruptured in a spray of bone, blood, and tissue. I had been aiming for his chest. My distance estimate was off; it wasn’t two hundred yards. The Redcaps charged. They were tired. Some of them had leg wounds. They had a longer distance to run, and they had charged me before, so I was more prepared. I used Kentucky windage to aim for their chests. I didn’t fumble my magazine change this time and the last one died twenty feet from me.

I was congratulating myself for a job well done when I felt a tug at my right shoulder. I looked down and saw three inches of a silver grey spearhead coming out of me. I felt surprisingly little pain. My arm went numb and Sanguinis slipped from my hand. I stood unmoving trying to get a grip on what just happened. I watched the spear head retract and then disappear as it was pulled out of my body.

I turned to face my attacker. He struck my left arm with the shaft. I felt the bone snap; this really hurt. I had let the Redcaps ambush me from behind, two times in a row.

This elf was a couple inches taller and more muscular than the others. The others had worn and carried black iron gear. He was wearing a breastplate the same color as his spear. It looked like they were made out of titanium. Instead of killing me like I expected, he stepped back. “Paladin, my name is Raeleus. Surrender your gifts and I will give you a quick and painless death.”

Raeleus looked pleased. He had the right to be. He had played me perfectly. I had better things to do than talk to the villain in the middle of a fight. This wasn’t a movie and my name wasn’t Bond. I kicked out at his right knee. He blocked with his spear. There was a flash of light each time his spear made contact with my boot. From the damage done to my left arm, I had expected my feet to hurt. They were fine. I stayed too close for him to stab me with his spear. I forced him to defend himself like he was using a quarterstaff.

I made no attempt to protect myself. I kicked again and again. If I gave him time to attack, I was dead. I had no way to defend my upper body. In the midst of my attack Raeleus never lost his smile. I was holding losing cards. In the long run, your legs are slower and take more energy to fight with than your arms. Sooner or later, I was going to get tired.

The best fighter in the world doesn’t fear the second best. Experienced fighters play the percentages. They don’t take stupid chances and are therefore easier to anticipate. The inexperienced are almost impossible to predict; they don’t know enough to make the smart choice.

I’d never done a jump kick before in a real fight; it’s an idiot’s move. It was a day for firsts. I had never been in a storm drain, ridden a classic Harley, or killed fucking fairies before, either. It’s a stupid move to jump in the air when it counts, but if I played it smart, I had no chance at all. I pretended to be a smidgeon more tired than I actually was, and as I anticipated when I finally stopped kicking at his legs, he sent his spear toward my chest. I saw it coming and jumped in the air face down, parallel above his spear, my head pointed toward him, my feet pointing away. When he realized I had jumped above his spear, he pulled back for another thrust. As he did, I tucked, converting my leap into a forward summersault and blindly kicked in the direction of his face.

It felt like I had kicked a watermelon. A moment later, I landed flat on my back. The pain in my right shoulder and left upper arm was agonizing. Molten lead being poured over me couldn’t have been worse. I howled in pain. I was still screaming when I lifted my head to look for Raeleus. He was lying still on the ground. The watermelon I had kicked had been his face. The front half of his skull was completely crushed.

I realized as I was losing consciousness, the compulsion—my overwhelming need to be here—was gone. Joey was giving me a hint; the fae were all dead.

I woke up because something furry with sharp teeth was gnawing at my neck at the junction of my helmet and jacket collar. I turned my head and crushed the rat between my helmet and shoulder. A swarm of rats had blanketed me while I was out. As I got up, I felt an explosion of pain in my right shoulder and left arm.

It hurt too much to try to brush them off with my arms. I whipped my head from side to side to keep the rats from my neck. I ran to the side of tunnel and slammed my body against the curved walls. The agony of the impact against my shoulder and arm made me stagger. I didn’t care. I wanted the fucking rats off of me. Again, I threw myself against the wall; each time, I screamed. The tears streaming from my eyes almost blinded me but I got the rats off.

Every rodent from miles around must have come for a meal. I walked slowly through them. I was lucky I hadn’t stepped on one and lost my balance while knocking them off me. Once I got past the dead Redcaps, the number of rats had dropped to nothing. The glow from my own blood gave enough light to see.

I couldn’t move my right arm, trying to move my left was unadulterated misery. Blood kept pouring from my neck where the rat had been gnawing me. I was getting light headed. Wall climbing was cool but I could see why most paladins picked the healing spell instead. I needed help.

Chapter 9: Who Do You Trust

I made a note to myself. Next time I go underground to take out Redcaps, Wear a Goddamn Headset! I had put my cell phone into my right jacket pocket. My right arm was useless from the shoulder down. It hurt like HELL to move my left hand but I could do it. It hurt too much to try to flex my left elbow.

I tried to use my fingers to pull my hand up to my pocket. My leathers were too slick; I couldn’t get a good enough hold. Shit! I had to lie down.

My backpack made it impossible to lie completely flat, but I was still able to use my fingers to pull my hand across my body. The zipper sucked but by this time I was almost used to the pain. If I hadn’t known God existed, I would have thanked him for having Aidan work on my phone. As it was, I wasn’t going to give the son-of-a-bitch the satisfaction. I set my phone on speaker mode and pushed #9.

My favorite leprechaun picked up on the first ring, “Victor! How are you?”

“I need to be picked up. I’m at…” I tried to get to my GPS app. My fingers were stiff and I dropped the phone. “Damn it!”

“It’s okay. I’m tracking your phone. I know your coordinates; you are still below ground? Are you hurt?”

I struggled to keep my voice level, “Yeah to both.”

I could hear Aidan’s grin, “To be sure, Victor, you are not much of a conversationalist. Do you need reloads? How many Redcaps are left?”

“None, I got them all.” I could hear rats coming toward me. I couldn’t help it; I let out a groan as I sat up.

He fell silent for a moment. His voice was somber when he asked, “How badly are you hurt?”

“Pretty bad, Aidan, there are rats down here. I’m bad enough I’m not sure I can hold them off.”

I heard him screaming for Tim Hardy. Tim got on the phone, “Mr. Paladin, Master Aidan’s on his way. You said something about rats?”

“Yeah.”

Suddenly loud yipping and barking noises came from my phone. “That’s the sound of a terrier. Rats are usually more afraid of them than cats.”