Read And Blue Skies From Pain Online
Authors: Stina Leicht
And Blue Skies From Pain (50 page)
“But you aren’t field trained—”
She frowned, making her features look older than her thirty years. “Mary, Virginia, and I studied karate at Caltech for three years. Mary and I served together in Vietnam for five years before taking our vows. Under combat conditions, I might add. Virginia earned an Expert badge as a sniper in the U.S. Army at eighteen. Although, the Army refused to deploy her. Their loss is our gain. Mary grew up in Japan and is a Kendo champion. I hold a doctorate in chemistry, but my hobby is small explosives. Is that enough? Or do I need to go on?”
“No need.”
“I didn’t think so,” Sister Catherine said.
The door opened and a sturdy woman in her late twenties with dark skin and an afro entered the room. A curved Japanese katana sheathed in a black scabbard was belted to her waist. “Ginny says no one else is here.”
“Are you certain?”
Sister Mary nodded.
Sister Catherine turned and addressed him. “Where are the other men we saw earlier?”
“Gone,” Father Murray said. “There may be a bank robbery under way. Their leader coerced Liam Kelly into operating as their driver.”
Sister Catherine sighed. “And when will they be back?”
A tall young woman with short red hair ran into the warehouse, opened the door and peered inside. “Mother Superior, a car just drove up. Conor says the one we’re looking for is driving.”
Chapter 27
Belfast, County Antrim, Northern Ireland
23 December 1977
23 December 1977
A
s Liam stopped the Cortina in the car park behind the warehouse an uneasy feeling settled in. The creature in the back of his mind was restless, but hadn’t expressed any dire warnings for a change.
Not in the last few minutes, anyway,
he thought. The Cortina’s headlights illuminated the corrugated-steel warehouse wall and the door. He didn’t see anyone, but he understood something was wrong.
What is it?
He briefly considered signalling Frankie to stay put, but that would’ve meant he’d have to explain why. In any case, he couldn’t just drive off. He wouldn’t leave without Father Murray. Liam watched Séamus, Frankie and Ned climb out of the car while his stomach knotted and fluttered.
s Liam stopped the Cortina in the car park behind the warehouse an uneasy feeling settled in. The creature in the back of his mind was restless, but hadn’t expressed any dire warnings for a change.
Not in the last few minutes, anyway,
he thought. The Cortina’s headlights illuminated the corrugated-steel warehouse wall and the door. He didn’t see anyone, but he understood something was wrong.
What is it?
He briefly considered signalling Frankie to stay put, but that would’ve meant he’d have to explain why. In any case, he couldn’t just drive off. He wouldn’t leave without Father Murray. Liam watched Séamus, Frankie and Ned climb out of the car while his stomach knotted and fluttered.
When will Séamus make his move now? Or will he wait until the next job? Or am I getting as bad as he is with the paranoia?
“Planning to stay in there all night, Kelly?” Séamus asked.
Liam turned off the Cortina’s engine and opened the door. He rested one foot on the tarmac, and the dread worsened. Séamus made his way around the car’s hood. He stopped close to the Cortina’s side, blocking Liam’s path.
“I’ll be for having that screwdriver now,” Séamus said.
“Do I not have to burn her out?” Liam asked, remaining seated. “She’s stolen. We can’t leave her here. The RUC or the army—”
“Ned will take care of it. Give us the screwdriver.” Séamus held out his hand.
Ned and Frankie stopped, turning around to watch the developing confrontation. Liam swallowed. The beast in the back of his brain began to whisper its customary warnings. The intensity behind the rising paranoia and terror made it hard to focus on the present situation. He rubbed sweat from his palms onto his jeans.
Kill him now. Don’t wait. Now. Danger.
I’ll not kill again. I won’t,
Liam thought back.
Liam thought back.
We’re going to die, then.
Liam felt a frown tug at his lips.
No,
I’ll
die. There is no fucking
we
. And I don’t fucking care.
No,
I’ll
die. There is no fucking
we
. And I don’t fucking care.
I do,
the monster murmured.
We must live.
the monster murmured.
We must live.
Why?
“Come on, lad. You’ve shown us what you’re made of. Now, show you can do as you’re told.”
Must live. Mary Kate, she needs you.
Mary Kate is dead. And I can be with her.
Good luck getting her started again, you bastard.
Yanking out the screwdriver, Liam slapped it into Séamus’s palm with far more force than was necessary.
Yanking out the screwdriver, Liam slapped it into Séamus’s palm with far more force than was necessary.
Séamus winced but otherwise pretended not to notice. “There’s a good lad,” he said, stepping aside. “Now, get inside with you.”
Liam preferred to wait until Séamus was farther away. The space between the open car door and Séamus wasn’t wide enough to suit Liam. Too easy to slip a knife between his ribs. The others wouldn’t even see. It’d be too fast. He didn’t want Séamus behind him either, but he didn’t see a way of avoiding it without another squabble, and Ned and Frankie were staring.
Thought you didn’t care about death?
the monster thought.
the monster thought.
“Give us some room? Don’t want to hit you with the fucking door,” Liam said, annoyance seeping into his tone.
Séamus shuffled another six inches or so backward.
Liam stood up and thumped his head on the edge of the Cortina’s roof. The pain was short and dull.
If I die, I die.
He slammed the door and headed toward where Frankie and Ned waited. Liam had passed Séamus when he noticed the doorknob was missing from the warehouse door and a sudden movement in the dark to his right drew his attention. Then the distinct click of a pistol safety from behind him brought him up short. Time slowed. Frankie shouted a warning and drew his gun. Ned followed suit. Liam whirled.
If I die, I die.
He slammed the door and headed toward where Frankie and Ned waited. Liam had passed Séamus when he noticed the doorknob was missing from the warehouse door and a sudden movement in the dark to his right drew his attention. Then the distinct click of a pistol safety from behind him brought him up short. Time slowed. Frankie shouted a warning and drew his gun. Ned followed suit. Liam whirled.
Séamus was pointing a pistol at him.
Fuck,
Liam thought.
Why is he waiting?
Liam thought.
Why is he waiting?
A shout came from across the car park. “Kill the fucking taigs!”
Séamus turned. Something metallic bounced and thumped into the back bumper of the Cortina with a loud clatter and ding. Liam had enough time to register what it was and take three running steps for cover before he was shoved to the ground by something heavy landing on his back. He fell face-first on the tarmac, biting his tongue and skinning his knee and chin in the process. An explosion lit up the car park. The sound of it was huge. He felt it inside his chest. Then a wave of intense heat rolled over him and whatever it was that had knocked him down. The pressure of the explosion held him there for a moment, crushing the air out of him like the hand of God. Then it was gone with a wind gust, leaving behind an eerie silence. Whatever weighed him down moved, and Liam was finally able to roll onto his side. Flames consumed what remained of the Cortina, lighting everything and everyone in an eerie red-orange glow. Chunks of burning steel rebounded on the tarmac in silence. Séamus thrashed on the ground in a feeble attempt to put out his clothes and hair.
Liam looked away.
Bad way to go, that.
His nose filled with a noxious mix of spent explosive, hot steel, petrol, rot, and burning flesh. It was too late for Séamus, even if Liam had wanted to help, and he wasn’t entirely certain he did. Five men with hunched backs dressed in army fatigues charged across the car park with an assortment of pistols, rifles and knives. It all happened in the absolute quiet of a silent film.
Bad way to go, that.
His nose filled with a noxious mix of spent explosive, hot steel, petrol, rot, and burning flesh. It was too late for Séamus, even if Liam had wanted to help, and he wasn’t entirely certain he did. Five men with hunched backs dressed in army fatigues charged across the car park with an assortment of pistols, rifles and knives. It all happened in the absolute quiet of a silent film.
Loyalists?
Liam thought, confused. He breathed in a second time.
Is that decay I smell?
Liam thought, confused. He breathed in a second time.
Is that decay I smell?
Danger. Move. Now! Must live,
the monster in his skull snarled.
Fallen.
the monster in his skull snarled.
Fallen.
Liam started to get up, but something fuzzy and huge thumped him in the back. Twisting his torso, he spied one hundred-fifty pounds of shaggy black Irish wolfhound.
“Da?” Liam asked. His voice resonated strangely inside his own skull, unable to escape the oppressive quiet.
The big black hound blinked with one eye and then bounded over him, attacking an approaching Fallen. Liam watched as the hound—his father—downed the creature and ripped at its face and chest. He felt small bursts of air flit past. For an instant he thought they were insects.
Those are bullets, you idiot.
He got to his feet in a crouch. Muffled sounds drifted slowly back into the picture, his father’s furious snarls mixed with the Fallen’s screaming and staccato bursts of gunfire which punctured the warehouse wall.
Those are bullets, you idiot.
He got to his feet in a crouch. Muffled sounds drifted slowly back into the picture, his father’s furious snarls mixed with the Fallen’s screaming and staccato bursts of gunfire which punctured the warehouse wall.
“Liam! Over here!” It was Frankie. He’d taken cover behind a row of steel barrels positioned not far from the warehouse door.
Ned was lying on the ground, twitching. Half his head was a bleeding mess. Liam scurried toward Frankie, pausing to check on Ned first. Taking the man’s pulse, Liam kept his head down as live rounds pierced the wall inches above. Ned convulsed one last time and was gone.
“So sorry, mate,” Liam whispered. “I’ll get word to your family.” He closed Ned’s eyelids and suddenly realized he didn’t know if Ned had a family.
A powerful stench caused Liam to look up.
One of the Fallen stood over him with a 9mm Browning. Liam’s heart stumbled.
“You and the priest are done, you hear? Die, taig.” The creature’s finger tightened on the trigger.
A shot went off, and a black dot appeared on the Fallen’s cheek. It staggered and then dropped to the ground. Liam pushed the thing away from Ned’s body and then spied the abandoned guns. Grabbing both, Liam checked each.
“Liam! Get the fuck over here!” Frankie reloaded his pistol. “I can’t hold them off you forever. Not from here.”
Frankie will need the ammunition.
Liam paused. “Sorry, mate. No disrespect to you, you understand.” He went through Ned’s pockets until he found the extra ammo. He counted two dead Fallen lying on the ground. Both shot. A third dropped as it attempted to make its way to him.
Liam paused. “Sorry, mate. No disrespect to you, you understand.” He went through Ned’s pockets until he found the extra ammo. He counted two dead Fallen lying on the ground. Both shot. A third dropped as it attempted to make its way to him.
“Liam, stop arsing around! I mean it!”
Two Fallen remained, but Bran was giving them a seeing to. With all the noise, the RUC or the army would be sure to show soon.
Father Murray,
Liam thought.
Where is he?
He left Ned’s body and scrambled to where Frankie was waiting.
Liam thought.
Where is he?
He left Ned’s body and scrambled to where Frankie was waiting.
“Where the fuck did the Loyalists come from?” Frankie asked, shooting at shadows.
They aren’t fucking Loyalists,
Liam thought as he reloaded Ned’s pistol with fresh ammunition. “Stupid question, mate. You do know where the fuck we are, right?”
Liam thought as he reloaded Ned’s pistol with fresh ammunition. “Stupid question, mate. You do know where the fuck we are, right?”
“Shite! What’s that?”
A second, lighter-colored Irish wolfhound bounded across the car park. Bran was now flanked by the remaining Fallen. One had its back to Liam, Frankie and Sceolán. Liam watched as Sceolán lunged at the back of the Fallen’s ankle, ripping the tendon. The Fallen howled, turned and staggered. Sceolán was on top of him in an instant. Bran tore at the body of the other Fallen, but something drew his attention, and he ceased worrying at the body, blood dripping from his muzzle.
“Who keeps dogs like that? Fucking monsters, they are,” Frankie said, aiming at Sceolán.
Liam shoved Frankie’s pistol arm. “Don’t. They’re killing the ones that attacked us.” He was reluctant to call the Fallen Loyalists. “I’m thinking we leave them to it.”
Frankie stared at Bran and Sceolán as they finished off the Fallen. “Are they Republicans, do you think?”
“You planning on asking them their politics?”
Frankie shook his head.
Liam stood up. “We should get Father Murray and then do a runner before the Peelers arrive.”
An explosion at the front of the warehouse lit up the night sky. Liam sprinted for the door. Frankie wasn’t long behind. A chill passed through Liam.
Should’ve thought of Father Murray sooner. Am I too late?
The moment he was inside, Liam saw the first of the rolling doors was half gone—a warped, gaping hole in the middle. A number of Fallen had entered through the ragged hole. Three women he didn’t recognize—two white and one black—dressed in army fatigues fought the Fallen side by side. The black woman carried a curved sword, and the other two women had pistols. One was older and the other might have been the tall, athletic redhead from Daft Kevin’s party. They weren’t alone in holding the Fallen back. A young man with blond hair wielded a long sword with long-practiced ease and skill. The polished blade reflected light from the now burning warehouse as it beheaded the enemy, making the sword look as if it were on fire. The Fallen tumbled in a gout of dark and stinking gore. The smoke filling the inside of the warehouse thickened as the flames spread.
Should’ve thought of Father Murray sooner. Am I too late?
The moment he was inside, Liam saw the first of the rolling doors was half gone—a warped, gaping hole in the middle. A number of Fallen had entered through the ragged hole. Three women he didn’t recognize—two white and one black—dressed in army fatigues fought the Fallen side by side. The black woman carried a curved sword, and the other two women had pistols. One was older and the other might have been the tall, athletic redhead from Daft Kevin’s party. They weren’t alone in holding the Fallen back. A young man with blond hair wielded a long sword with long-practiced ease and skill. The polished blade reflected light from the now burning warehouse as it beheaded the enemy, making the sword look as if it were on fire. The Fallen tumbled in a gout of dark and stinking gore. The smoke filling the inside of the warehouse thickened as the flames spread.
Frankie slowed to a stop and then aimed his pistol.
Sword,
Liam thought and grabbed Frankie’s arm.
I’ve only seen—
Liam recognized the jacket the young man with the sword was wearing. Then everything snapped into place when the young man turned his head.
Conor?
“Frankie, don’t shoot!”
Liam thought and grabbed Frankie’s arm.
I’ve only seen—
Liam recognized the jacket the young man with the sword was wearing. Then everything snapped into place when the young man turned his head.
Conor?
“Frankie, don’t shoot!”
“Why?”
“They’re friends,” Liam said, searching the battle for Father Murray and not finding him. “Where’s Father Murray? Do you see him? We need to get him out of here. Before the whole fucking place goes up.”
One of the Fallen broke free of the fight. It started across the floor to the opposite wall, spied them and then changed course. The thing growled and charged at Liam. Frankie fired his Beretta, knocking the demon back. Liam counted three shots before the creature dropped. Liam knew it wasn’t dead. He’d seen what had happened at Raven’s Hill. In each case, the wounded fallen angel had to be burned or blessed by a member of Father Murray’s Order, or they regenerated after a time.
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