City Infernal (24 page)

Authors: Edward Lee

BOOK: City Infernal

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Skittering Bapho-Roaches crunched like nuts under her footfalls. After more sprinting, she slipped on some slime and fell, her face landing inches away from one of the iron grates in the pavement.

Another face looked back at her—“Help me!” it pleaded from the flames.

But Cassie couldn’t. What could she do? She dragged herself back up off skinned knees and returned to her chase.

“You go, girl!” a severed head cheered from where it had been left astray. As Cassie sprinted on, an obstruction emerged from the smoke: an adolescent City-Imp obviously addicted to Zap. The creature convulsed where it lay, whining, its clumsy paws manipulating the long hypodermic needle. Cassie hurdled over the thing, just as it inserted the needle into a nostril, injecting the drug deep into its brain.

Up ahead, Lissa reached the end of the alley and turned off.

“Lissa! PLEASE come back!” Cassie hollered.

She slipped over more vile slime then accidently stepped on a Polter-Rat as she ran on. The rodent squealed, ejecting its innards from its fanged mouth when Cassie’s heel slammed down. As she approached the end of the alley herself, she heard more footsteps behind her: Via and Hush.

The alley emptied into an intersection glittery from phosphoric street lamps. A mephitic fog had set in, diffusing the strange yellow light. From a building ledge across the street, several Gargoyles gathered, peering at her, and then she jumped in startlement when a decaying human tending a vendor’s grill barked, “Step right up! Get your piping hot Manburgers right here! Two-bits, honey! Best Manburgers in the Square!”

She stole a quick glance at the strange patties sizzling on the grill. “Did you see a girl just run out of here?”

“Buy a Manburger and I’ll tell ya,” he grinned.

Cassie’s rage flared. “I don’t have any money for a FUCKING Manburger!” she yelled. “Now tell me if you saw—”

But in an instant, a sourceless burst of bright sparkles flashed before her and—

“Holy shit, honey!”

—the vendor’s head blew apart like a rifle bullet through a watermelon. A flop of brains landed right on the grill and began to sizzle.

It happened again!
Cassie thought in shock.
What was that?

But there was no time to reflect. She glimpsed Lissa again, on a comer a block away. Cassie resumed her chase through the ill-smelling fog.

“Damn it, Lissa! Don’t run!”

But Lissa ran, dashing into the street. The fog consumed her, then came a sound like screeching tires—

“LISSA!”

A scream and an ugly THUNK! followed, then a metallic chugging. Cassie’s heart plummeted in her gut. Even without seeing what had happened, she knew.

From the fog, some sort of a long automobile emerged, speeding down the street. A stout, homed Grand Duke sat in the back of the bizarre, steam-powered vehicle, while a lower demon drove. The iron bumper was shiny with blood.

Oh my God!

Cassie dashed into the middle of the street. When she was close enough, she could see Lissa lying in the road, amid the fog. Already some Polter-Rats were encroaching ; Cassie kicked them away, horrified.

“Oh, please, Lissa! Don’t be—”

Via and Hush darted up behind her. “Hurry! Get her out of the street!”

They dragged her to the sidewalk—

“Get out of the road, ya dizzy whores!” a voice grated and a horn honked.

Another speeding steam-car clattered by, missing them by inches.

But Cassie felt mindless now. Lissa wasn’t moving. They dragged her to a park bench fashioned from demon bones, lay her down on it. A street light burned through the fog.

“Shit,” Via said. “She’s dead.”

“No!” Cassie sobbed and fell to her knees.

She grabbed Lissa’s still hand—if felt cold. Then she drooped her head onto Lissa’s bosom and cried.

“I’m real sorry,” Via said. Hush put her arm around Cassie, to console her.

“I came all this way to find her and tell her how sorry I am about her suicide,” Cassie sobbed, “and all I do instead is get her killed! If I hadn’t been chasing her—”

“It’s not your fault. You can’t blame yourself.”

Cassie brushed her sister’s hair back, and when she looked at her face, she cried harder. Lissa looked as pretty and vibrant as she ever had in the Living World.

And now she’s DEAD! Because of ME! Now her soul has been transferred into a bug or a rat and it’s ALL MY FAULT!

“Wait a minute,” Via said, a suspicious edge to her voice. “This is fucked up.”

“What?” Cassie sobbed, incoherent.

“I mean,
look
at her. There’s some blood but ... that’s about it. She’s not in bad shape at all.”

“What are you talking about!” Cassie blared. “She’s dead! She got run over by a car!”

“Step back,” Via said sternly.

Cassie moved back, bewildered.

“Just as I thought,” Via said when she knelt for closer inspection. She was pressing her hands down against Lissa’s chest. “No ribcage.”

“Whuh—what?”

“Cassie? What’s one of the first things we told you about Damnation? When you go to Hell, the first thing you get is a Spirit Body that’s exactly the same as your body on Earth. But, here, it takes a lot more than this to kill a Spirit Body. It has to be completely destroyed before your Soul can be transferred to something else. This is nothing.”

Cassie was wiping tears off her cheeks. “I have no idea what you’re talking about!”

Via stood back up, nodding. “Shit, I’ve been run over by steam-cars a bunch of times, but I didn’t
die.
It’s impossible, Cassie. It doesn’t inflict anywhere near enough damage.”

“I still don’t know where you’re—”

Via silenced her abruptly. “That’s
not
Lissa. That’s what I’m trying to tell you.”

This was just too much confusion. Cassie looked again and knew that the body on the bench was Lissa’s. Her midriff was exposed, revealing the exact same barbed-wire tattoo around her bellybutton. The face was the final proof: Lissa’s face looked exactly like Cassie’s.

“It’s a Hex-Clone, Cassie. It’s
not
Lissa.”

“You mean, this isn’t—”

“It’s not her. It’s a
fake.
Trust me. We’ve seen these things before.”

Hush was nodding too, to assure her friend.

“It’s a Hex-Clone,” Via repeated. “They make them in the Industrial Zone for the Constabs. Animation spells and organic molding. Lucifer’s Houngan Priests at the Department of Voudou Research make these Hex-Clones from a flesh sample of the real person. It’s sort of like genetic engineering in Hell. What I’m saying is that thing on the bench isn’t Lissa—it’s not a Spirit Body. It’s just a sack of animated meat that was made to look exactly like your sister, right down to every last detail.”

Could this be true? But Cassie couldn’t believe it. How could she?

“Show her, Hush.”

Hush looked consoling as she produced a short knife with gems in the handle. She reached forward and—

“Are you crazy!” Cassie yelled.

“Calm down,” Via said and pulled Cassie back.

Hush stuck the knife in Lissa’s abdomen, then drew it up all the way to the chin. Cassie expected to see bones and organs, but when the knife cut in, the body seemed to collapse.

From the incision, out spilled billows of what could only be described as organic
mush
that made Cassie think of ground pork. The mush overflowed in a pile onto the sidewalk, leaving an empty bag of skin.

“See?”

They’re right.

How could Cassie argue, with the evidence all in a wet pile?

It’s not Lissa. It’s just some thing they made to
... But she could think of no reason for this. Why would the authorities go to the trouble of producing a clone of her sister?

“The good news is, Lissa’s not dead,” Via said. Even Hush looked worried about the insinuation. “The bad news is, the Constabulary is onto us.”

“But why—er, how—”

“There’s only one reason why they would make a Hex-Clone, Cassie. They’re using it as bait, and that’s why we have to get out of here right now,” and then Via dragged Cassie up, and the three of them ran off into the fog.

“Bait?” Cassie questioned, huffing as she ran.

“Bait to set a trap!”

“What are they setting a trap for?”

“You!” Via answered.

(II)

Bill Heydon made love to the woman ferociously, first, on the bed, then a second time right on the floor. The experience rejuvenated him, made him feel decades younger. After the second time, they collapsed in one another’s arms, their sweat shining like a primitive lotion, both sighing in spent bliss.

Bill had still not yet regained his sense of reason and, evidently, Mrs. Conner never
had
a sense of reason.
She’d
seduced
him
right?
She’d
snuck into
his
bed.

And from there, it was all basic human impulse. They were cave-people ten thousand years ago, using each other to slake their needs.

She lay with her head on his chest, his arms draped flaccidly around her. Another part of his body was just as flaccid, and he assumed it would remain so for now.
Christ Almighty,
he thought.
This woman sure can f-
but then her knee slid up between his legs, and the tip of her tongue was encircling his nipple. He was breathing in the herby soapscents of her hair along with their shared musk, and as her breasts pressed harder against him, he could feel her heart beating. What Bill wanted more than anything was to do it again but then he was reminded of the realities of age.
The old crane won’t be rising again any time soon.

But Mrs. Conner’s desire was even more plain. She wanted to do it again too, and the insistency of her attraction to him only made him feel better. Since his wife had left him, and considering the continued accrual of middle-aged pounds, it had been a while since any woman had wanted him. But tonight, Bill Heydon was definitely re-finding a lot of long-lost confidence. Only hours ago he was pretty much consigned to the fact that he was a pot-bellied, over-the-hill duffer who’d spend the rest of his life scratching his ass through his shorts and watching football on tv. But now here he was sprawled out on the hot hardwood floor with a beautiful naked woman who
wanted
him.

Little moans began to escape from her lips, and her affectionate afterplay was soon growing into something else. Her mouth drew up and opened over his, and then she was sucking his tongue again. A breath lodged in his chest; his hips flinched at the re-emerging waves of sensation. Then her warm fingers walked down across his belly to his groin.

Bill chuckled. “Honey, don’t think I don’t want to ’cos I do. But nothing much is going to be happening down there for the rest of the night.”

Mrs. Conner’s smile defied his statement. Her hand worked on a while longer in the most clever ways, and soon Bill’s
body
was defying his statement too.

God, I can’t believe this....

Her smile disappeared for a time as her mouth occupied itself elsewhere, and now Bill was staring up in the dark. The intensity of pleasure caused him to move his head back and forth. At one point his eyes fell on the parliament clock, but he was too exhilarated to notice that it had stopped ticking an hour ago.

Even beyond his own belief, he was ready again. He looked down at the
proof—Holy smokes! Is that mine?
—and then she was straddling him, gently but urgently. She was
taking
him.

The moment froze in the most erotic image. She was sitting on him, the perspiration on her skin glittery as gold dust, the lines of her robust body and breasts etched in the finest edges of moonlight.

“God, you’re beautiful,” he muttered upward.

Mrs. Conner just smiled, her wanton eyes fixed on him. She didn’t say anything in response, and it never occurred to him that she hadn’t said anything
at all
since he’d found her in his bed. But when a simple hitch of her hips brought him into her again, she spoke for the first time tonight, the same word several times....

“More ... More ... More ...”

Bill eyes widened. Something wasn’t right.

When she’d spoken the craving words, it hadn’t been in Mrs. Conner’s familiar soft drawly voice at all.

The words gushed out in dark, sultry sub-octaves. No, not Mrs. Conner’s voice.

It was the voice of sheer lust.

The voice of utter sin.