Run the Day (9 page)

Zombie pigs, for crying out loud.

Three of them were circling around Hack and his eyes were flashing dangerously, there was actual lightning crackling around his hands. Swift rushed straight at one of the pigs when it charged him, he caught it, lifted the whole thing up over his head and slammed it straight back down. It exploded. Chunks and pieces of rotten meat littered the ground around the fair sized crater the impact created.

Holy shit.

I had my own trouble to worry about; the pig that had attacked me was coming back and bringing a friend with it. The two zombie hogs were circling around to make a rush at me; I didn't have time for anything refined. I was about to be flattened into paste if I didn't do something quickly. The time-spiral I had chalked out on the concrete was abused, but still there, still flickering with lingering energy. I honed in on it and flung myself to the side just as the charging pigs trampled onto the cement. I curled myself into the fetal position as I hit the ground just in case, but death by rotting hoof never came.

I poked my head up and looked over to see the two pigs; both of them frozen in mid-charge just as they passed over the center of the spiral like someone hit the cosmic pause button on them. Thank all the gods and little fishes for small miracles. I stood, wobbling a bit, and discretely moved away, releasing my hold on the working. The pigs continued their charge and ran across the field. That worked out nicely. Nearby, I saw Hack standing over the charred remains of three of the pigs, their carcasses smoking on the ground. He looked over and saw the others running, and threw a hand out like he was tossing a baseball. His eyes flared up as a crackling bolt of lightning flew from his hand to tear into one of the pigs, tossing its body through the air. Seeing it through the Other spectrum I could see reality fold and tear itself around his hand and the bolt.

In a flash, Swift was there and tackled into the last of the zombie pigs, a blistering streak of white in his true form. He slammed a fist not just into but through its side and rode it to the ground, where it kicked and squealed and fought but Swift kept slamming that sledgehammer of a fist into it. In a few blows it was reduced to twitching meat. I couldn't help but stare at the spectacular amount of destruction caused between Hack and Swift. It took me a moment, but I brought myself back to the normal side of the spectrum and tried to rein in my breath. My heart was pounding in my chest, and I had collected a number of new and exciting pains.

"You all right boy?" Hack said, kicking over one of the smoldering pig carcasses and walking over. Swift was close behind, wiping filth and gore off his hands.

"I'm doing great, thank you. I always wanted to have a stroke before forty." I rubbed at my hip; it was tender, complaining painfully when I put weight on it.

"Were you able to learn anything?" Swift asked.

"Yeah, I did actually. Henry was right; the Libro Nihil did come to the valley. And Abel Grannok had it."

"But Henry and I tore this place apart, we would have found it," Hack said.

"About that, apparently Grannok had an ally. Some…thing that was helping him, it must have gotten the book out while you were busy dealing with Grannok." I had already begun the hobbling march back to the car. There was too much to do.

"We never saw anyone else," Hack said.

I shrugged, wishing I had brought some aspirin when we left the house. I should have known better - it was becoming a growing trend for me to get stomped on during an outing. Grannok's ally, whatever the hell it was, must have surfaced with the book again. Maybe it found someone to pull off the ritual that Grannok had failed. I needed to find that freak, and get the book. And to find it, I needed to know where it was. Looks like I had no choice, I had to go see Devlin, his business be damned. He kept detailed records of every single Other that lived within his domain, paranoid but smart. I'd been trying to talk him into letting me see them for years.

And he knew Abel Grannok.

"You'd remember this guy if you saw him, trust me. We have to go to the Red House; I don't care what Devlin's doing, I need to see him," I said.

We got to Swift's car and within minutes we were back on the freeway heading for Hanford. Something else about the scene I witnessed kept nagging at me, though. Something the thing had mentioned. It sounded like it was scared of it, and Grannok looked like he damn near dumped in his pants when he heard it.

"Hey Hack, what the hell is a God-Spear?" I got a weird sidelong look from Swift as he drove and a grunt from Hack in the back seat.

"God-Spear? Not ringing a bell, why do you ask?"

"Just curious. Mostly," I said and leaned back in my seat.

I made a practice of knowing about the things that scare the scary types and Grannok and his buddy sounded pretty freaked out that the God-Spear, whatever it was, was approaching. It was always good to know there was something out there that gave the bogeymen a fright, but sometimes that just meant an even worse bogeyman. Either way, this God-Spear thing seemed worth looking into.

We cut off the freeway and hooked onto a road that carried us a few blocks north of Downtown, into one of the oldest neighborhoods in the city. Some of the houses here had stood for over a hundred years, and the sometimes eclectic mix of architecture made for interesting scenery. Adobe haciendas stood next door to tall white Victorians, old growth trees and expensively manicured flower gardens dominated the yards. The neighborhood also happened to be home to some of the oldest money in Hanford, so it made sense Devlin had made his base here.

"Maybe I should go in by myself, not sure how Devlin would react to me coming in with muscle," I said as we pulled up to the curb outside the Red House, "He can be a little…unpredictable."

"Muscle?" Hack asked.

"I saw what you did to those pigs. That was nuts. Wait here. If I'm not back in ten minutes, blow the place up and give me a good eulogy," I said and got out of the car. Swift killed the engine as I walked up the winding cement path that led to the steps of the Red House.

It was built along the same lines as the Bastille, two daunting stories of red brick that looked more like a small fortress than a house, fitting for someone who fancied themselves the lord of the land. When it was first built over a hundred years ago, it was one of the first, and most notorious, mental hospitals in California. To add to the somewhat sinister aura, it specialized in child cases. It was shut down shortly after the Second World War when reports of the horrors that went on inside began to gain public attention. It stayed vacant for years, until Devlin Desmond purchased it and renovated it into his humble abode.

I mounted the steps and went up to the heavy oak doors, there were stained glass windows set into them, fancifully crafted stars in white and blue and yellow. I knocked a few times and waited. After a moment, a shape passed behind the glass and opened one of the doors. She wore a set of nurse's scrubs printed with a pattern of flowers, and she smelled like sunshine. I can't be certain, I was too enraptured by the way the light was highlighting her blond hair, but I think a choir of angels began to sing.

I really need to start getting out of the house more often.

"Can I help you?" she asked.

"Oh god I hope so," I realized what I said and stumbled, "I mean…I'm Thomas Grey, I'm here to see Devlin."

"Mister Desmond? Oh, you're the man who called earlier. I'm sorry but he's very busy."

"That's unfortunate, because he might very well be all that stands between order…and total annihilation at the hands of primordial evil."

I really hoped that didn't come out too over dramatic.

"Excuse me?" She was beginning to look at me like I was in desperate need of medication.

"Thomas, I was just about to call you. Sarah, do let him in," Desmond said from inside the house.

The young nurse, Sarah, looked over her shoulder then back at me. She had bright clear green eyes and was frowning in a way that did nothing to make her less appealing. That's a rare quality in a lady. With a small snort she opened the door and stepped back, letting me in. It smelled like lemons and fireplaces inside.

"Sorry to barge in like this Devlin, but things have come up and I need answers," I said and looked around as I entered the foyer. Tasteful, that's what the place was. Hardwood floors, rich rugs, oil paintings, those weird lamps with the stained glass shades.

"Of course, of course. Sarah, be a dear and get refreshments for our guest, we'll be in the study. Thomas, follow me."

Devlin headed for the winding staircase at the end of the foyer. I went to follow him and caught Sarah giving me a hard look before she turned down one of the nearby hallways. I'd like to believe she was enamored with my ravishing looks, but she was probably just wondering how long she had until she had to call the police.

Devlin led me up to the second floor and into a spacious office dominated by a massive series of windows that made up the entire rear wall and exposed the garden and sky out back. Busily cleaning that gigantic mass of glass was a woman with a squeegee and dark hair pulled back into a tight bun. The hair on the back of my neck stood on end, the bottom dropped out of my stomach.

"Excuse me, Senorita Del Olmo, would you mind taking care of the silver now? I have company to deal with." Devlin said to the woman as he moved to take a seat in a leather-backed throne of a chair behind an even more superfluously impressive desk.

"Si Senor Desmond, no problem," she said, putting her squeegee in the bucket beside her and turning. Her eyes, dark and furious, locked straight onto me and her face screwed into a vicious mask, "Brujo."

"Hey, Rosa. Good to see you again."

Chapter Nine

Rosa stood staring daggers at me and the best I could muster was a haphazard wave.

She was Devlin's cleaning lady? That's just silly. Devlin sat with a curious look on his wizened face.

"Thomas, you know Rosa?" Devlin asked.

"Yeah, you could say that," I said.

I gave Rosa a large berth and circled around her towards Devlin's desk. It looked like it would make a good barricade, and Rosa looked like she was winding up to tackle me again.

"This pendejo's dangerous, Senor Desmond. You don't want him in your house," Rosa said.

"Hold your tone, Rosa. Thomas is a guest here, and will be given a guest's respect," Devlin said, making it sound like an ultimatum.

He stared gravely at Rosa and she no bullshit met his gaze and held it, for a second. Some of the air went out of her shoulders and she took her cleaning utensils and left the room without another word.

Devlin shook his head as he sunk into his chair. The thing made him look even more like a defenseless old man, the way it swallowed him up, but his eyes were hard and clear. He leveled them at me after he watched Rosa leave, motioning for me to sit. I took the seat across from him, the guest's chairs nowhere near as comfy as I'm sure Devlin's throne was.

"And how do you know the fiery Miss Del Olmo?" Devlin asked.

"We met earlier today. There was a scuffle at the Bastille, and she was caught in the crossfire. I made the mistake of attempting to be chivalrous and do a good deed." Sitting in front of Devlin like this I got a good view of the small rainforest that was his backyard through the picture windows. "I got a mild concussion and the ire of a ferocious woman for it."

"I did hear about that. I assume it was about the book. Did anything come of it? Have you made progress?"

"That's why I'm here, Devlin. What do you know about Abel Grannok?" I said, hoping for some kind of shift in Devlin's demeanor but he didn't betray anything.

"That he was a dangerous psychotic, a mage dealing with forces he couldn't possibly hope to comprehend. And that he is very, very dead," Devlin said.