Book and Blade: Book One of the Hand of Perdition (8 page)

God, now it smells more like a pile of rotting bodies
.

Hamlin noticed him teeter and steadied him.

"Everything okay?" Hamlin asked in a whisper.

"You don't smell that?" Christopher asked and immediately regretted opening his mouth. Now he could taste the horrible smell.

"What smell? Just grass and trees."

"No that smell like rotting bodies."

"What? No, I don't smell anything like that and I have smelled my fair share of old corpses."

"God, it’s awful! I can't believe you don't smell it."

"Well, you must be super sensitive to something. Maybe a dead animal in the bushes? Don't know what to tell ya," Hamlin said.

Nobody else seemed to notice the smell either. Christopher felt like he was going to throw up, but nobody around him seemed to be affected. It was more than just a smell Christopher realized. It was like an itching in his brain, as though something was misfiring inside his head and making him smell something that wasn't there. It took him only a moment longer to realize it was coming from the same place inside him where his aura sight came from.

Suddenly alert, all vestiges of the fog that had held sway over him were gone instantly. He looked around desperately as the priest continued the service. He needed to find where the stench was coming from.

"What? You went from being half asleep to alert as a guard dog. What happened?" Hamlin asked.

"I'm not sure, but something..." Christopher let what he was saying drift away. A man was walking over the hill directly across from the service. He was wearing a dark suit and jacket, but what really stood out was the black, wide brim hat on top of his head. He was tall and rail thin even with the coat on.

But what really made him forget what he was saying and suddenly turned his stomach was the pitch black aura around the man. It writhed around him as though the darkness was fighting with itself to stay contained. There was no other color to temper the blackness. This was the source of the smell, the stench of corruption. His aura brushed headstones as he passed, leaving behind withered moss and dead flowers rotting in their stand. He was a walking abomination, an affront to the reality around him and Christopher could almost imagine the world screaming in pain at each step he took.

Christopher slumped, suddenly weak, and Hamlin caught his arm to help him stay up.

"Whoa, you okay Christopher? You look like you ate some bad fish."

The man had stopped some distance away and stood watching. Christopher suddenly had the feeling he wasn't there for the funeral. His eyes were on Christopher.

"Yeah, I think I'm fine."

He straightened up and pulled his arm away from Hamlin.

"Think?" Hamlin asked.

"Yeah. Hey do you see that guy over there? The tall guy with the hat?" Christopher asked.

Hamlin looked to where he nodded.

"Yeah, tall son of a bitch, ain't he? Do you recognize him? A friend of your father's perhaps?"

"No."

Christopher felt like he was going to throw up. People around him were looking at him curiously. Most nodded sympathetically, thinking it was the grief affecting him. A few hands fell on his shoulder for comfort. He wanted to walk away, get away from the ominous presence of the thing watching over them. But he stood there and listened to the priest drone on and on.

He noticed that he was feeling better. Strength, subtle at first, was seeping into him from that seed of hatred, that gift from hell that dwelt deep inside him. He welcomed the comfort and warmth it brought. As though his acknowledgement gave it strength, the seed of anger flared to life and burned any nausea out of him.

He no longer wanted to leave. He wanted to charge up that hill and tear apart the flesh of the man on the hill and drag him down to hell. He had no idea why, but he needed to destroy this one. His hand itched to hold the weapon, but he had left that at home. He had even taken a step towards the thing when Hamlin's arm on his shoulder brought him back to himself. He pushed the feeling back down. It was his father's funeral, he could do nothing at the moment.

"I think that man had something to do with my father's murder," Christopher said through clenched teeth.

"How do you know? Did you see him last night?"

"No, but I’m positive it’s connected."

"It?" Hamlin asked, but Christopher ignored him.

The ceremony was soon over and the caskets were lowered into the ground at the same time. The crowd began to disperse. Christopher stood at the edge of the grave site as the mourners slowly made their way back to the cars. Many stopped to give him their condolences one last time. Christopher shook their hands and said all the words they expected him to say. But his attention never left the lone figure on the hill. It never left, it waited for him.

He waited for everyone to leave, expressing his need to be near his family one last time alone.

"I'll stay here with you," Hamlin said. "Maybe I should go introduce myself to that man up there."

"I don't think that’s such a good idea,” Christopher said. "I think he’s waiting for me."

"I know. That's why I should go have a chat."

Christopher new instinctively that if Hamlin went up that hill, there was a good chance he wouldn't come back.

"No, detective, I'm the one he wants to talk to."

"Maybe, but if you think he is involved with all this, there is no way I'm letting you go over there alone."

"Hamlin," Christopher said and focused all his attention on the detective, "If you go up there you will die."

"Look Christopher, I don't know what you are thinking but..."

He must have seen something in Christopher's eyes, maybe a little bit of the hell fury seeping through, because he stopped. Christopher could see the shock and concern on his face. Then he sighed.

"Okay. You seem to know something about what is going on you just don't want to let me in on," Hamlin said.

"It's not that..." Christopher began.

"Yes it is. But don't worry, I'll back down a little. Tell you what. I'll watch from the car. I’ll be able to see you, but far out of earshot."

"Thanks, Hamlin."

"Yeah, no problem kid, but just remember I'm on your side, and you need all the friends you can get right now. So be very careful about what secrets you decide to keep."

With that Hamlin turned and walked back to the car. Christopher was tempted to call after him. He was right, Christopher needed friends, but there was no time for that. He had a meeting to keep. After the last mourner had left, he made his way up the hill to speak with the dark thing that stank of death.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

"Ah, the new hunter of lost souls approaches," the tall man said as Christopher drew closer.

The man's mouth was wide and lined with teeth. Teeth that looked like they had been filed to points. When he smiled, tiny needle-like teeth shined wetly. The stench grew stronger as Christopher neared the thing and the desire to attack him reached a fever pitch, as though the seed of Hell inside of him was screaming for him to lash out and claim this being’s soul. It took all of his strength to hold it together.

"Who are you?" Christopher asked.

"I am your purpose," it said and laughed. "I am called Rath for the moment."

"Why are you here, at my family’s funeral? Did you have something to do with it?"

"I came to meet the new Adversary. The successor to the Beast."

He couldn't stand the rage inside him any longer. He stepped closer and looked up at Rath.

"Look fucker, did you have anything to do with my family’s murder or not?"

"Hmm, your concern for the mundane tells me you really have no idea what you are. You have no idea of the power you wield. Dealing with you will be easy. You are not the bloodhound the Beast was. You are but a puppy dog."

Rath leaned his head back and laughed. Christopher took a step forward, rage sweeping him away. He didn't know what he was going to do, but he wouldn't stand here and do nothing.

Suddenly a large knife appeared in Rath’s hands. It gleamed hotly. Something about it made Christopher hesitate, some hellish instinct made him pull back.

"Relax puppy. To tell you the truth, I did not do anything to your parents."

Rath brought his other hand up slowly and with the edge of the knife sliced deeply into his palm. Blood welled up instantly and began to drip from his hand. He held the hand over the grave next to him and blood dripped onto the earth with a sound that hissed as though his blood burned the very ground.

"But I know the man who did. Ambros gave the order."

He held his hand above another grave and again the blood fell to the ground as though molten.

"And I could deliver him to you."

He turned and walked through the graves, letting his blood drip on them as he went. Christopher followed behind him.

"What do you mean deliver?" Christopher asked.

"It's vengeance you want right? The police’s hands are tied, they all know he was the one that ordered the execution, but they can't do anything about it. They can't even find him. I could tell you where he is. You have a certain... freedom that the police lack. You could accomplish what they can't."

They seemed to be walking in a large circle, Rath fertilizing the ground with his blood. But he didn't seem to weaken despite the blood loss. In fact, he seemed to grow stronger with each step. Once again, as much as he feared it, he wished he had the Weapon with him.

"What's in it for you?" Christopher asked.

Rath paused for a moment as though considering.

"I have worked with him for a while, but he has outlived his usefulness. It is time he and I parted ways."

"And you want me to do the dirty work? Why? It can't be that simple. I mean, I get the feeling you could deal with him yourself if you had to,” Christopher said.

Despite whatever he was now, a part of him was very afraid. He wanted nothing more than to turn and run back to Hamlin. He looked around and realized they had come full circle. He could still see Hamlin by the car, but strangely everybody had disappeared. The last stragglers from the service had left, and even the cops Hamlin had stationed around the cemetery were suddenly gone.

Rath stopped and turned to face him.

"Well yes, I could. But no, I offer him as a gift to you, and all I ask in return is that you let me go. Just turn the other cheek and hunt others down."

Christopher was only a little aware of what Rath was talking about, from talking with the Librarian, but he didn't want Rath to know how ignorant he truly was.

"I thought I was just a puppy? Why are you worried about a puppy?" Christopher asked, amazed at his own bravery. Just a week ago he wouldn't have even considered speaking to this thing like he was. Being blessed by hell has a way of changing a guy, he guessed.

"Even puppies can nip at your heels. Even puppies can annoy and pester. I have plans, and the last thing I need is you running around trying to interfere."

"How do I know you aren't just going to lead me into a trap? Have Ambros and all his men just waiting for me?"

"Oh, Ambros and all his men will be there," Rath laughed. "I said I would tell you how to find him, not that it would be easy. But remember, you have new special skills. For you it is possible to take him out."

"Where is he?" Christopher asked.

Rath stared at him as if judging him.

"He has a house, under another name, just outside of town. This is the address," Rath said and slipped a piece of paper out of his coat, offering it to Christopher.

He took it, careful not to touch Rath's skin. Even the thought of it made his flesh crawl. He slipped the paper into his pocket.

"So, do we have a deal?" Rath asked.

"I can't guarantee anything, not now," Christopher said. He just didn't know enough about what he had signed on for. He didn't really know who he was yet, and until he understood more that was the best he could do. There was a beast raging inside of him that wanted to destroy Rath, and Christopher had no idea if he could control it or if he even wanted to. Of course he could say none of this to this creature before him.

"Tsk, tsk, puppy. You have more mettle than I had thought. Unfortunately, I now have to kill you."

Rath's hand flew up before Christopher could move, spraying stinging blood into his face. Christopher's vision blurred and the ground tilted under his feet. He heard Hamlin cry out behind him as he pawed at this face trying to get the blood off of himself. He blinked rapidly, trying to wash the blood from his eyes.

The earth under him rumbled. As his vision cleared, he could see what was causing the earth to vibrate. Rath was gone, but he had left something behind. The ground above the graves he had bled on was erupting, and creatures were clawing their way out. Corpses, Christopher realized, as the first arms and heads poked out of the holes.

Half rotting bodies, desiccated leathery mummies, and insectile looking skeletons climbed out of the earth. They were all around him in the pattern that Rath had walked him just moments before.

"What the fuck?" cried Hamlin from just over Christopher's shoulder. "What the fuck? How the fuck..."

Hamlin was right, they were surrounded by them. Once again Christopher wished he had the Book and Weapon with him. Hamlin had his gun out, he shot two in the chest. The bullets knocked them back, but just like in the movies, they got right back up.

Christopher let the anger and rage flow through his body. He did not have the weapon, but he was no longer defenseless. He could see the flow of power surround him like it had in his room the night before. It crackled across his body like lighting ready to strike.

The nearest corpse grabbed his arm, its claw-like finger digging into his flesh with far more strength than its body suggested. Christopher grabbed it by its neck and leg and picked it up over his head. He threw it into three others that were moving towards him, they all went down in a jumble of bones and rotting flesh.

Hamlin was in trouble. He was shooting into the mass of creatures, but he couldn't shoot in all directions at once effectively. Behind Hamlin a corpse was almost on him. Christopher leaped into the air, subconsciously pulling the shadows from the corners of the cemetery around him, forming the black coat and hood as he landed in the midst of the zombies behind Hamlin.