Risen: The Demontouched Saga (Book 6) (2 page)

I approach the front entryway slowly. Inspecting the interior through the glass, I don’t see any wires. Knowing Nal, he thought about that problem and had the wires ran through the metal door frame above, where the explosives are probably set.

Keys in hand, I pick one at random and place it in the lock.

“Nothing,” I say, when the door fails to open. The next key is more of the same, leaving me with one last key to try.

I place it in the lock and ease it to the side slowly.

“Got it!,” I say when the lock budges. Not even a quarter turn later I hear a loud crack when the key breaks in my hand.

“Oh no!” Sara says, taking a step back.

I sigh. Out of all the things that could happen here, I would end up picking a bad lock. I try to push my hand in against the key to turn it with my thumb, but the lock doesn’t budge. To make matters worse, the key broke flush, so I’m unable to get it out.

“What do we try now?” Sara asks.

“Go stand behind the truck,” I say, cocking the shotgun. “I’m going to blow the glass.”

“You sure that’s a good idea?”

“Only chance we have. I don’t want to go back empty handed.”

I take a few steps away from the front door, standing next to a metal trash can hoping it can protect me from an explosion, doubtful as it may seem. Aiming the gun at the meat of the closest glass, I close my eyes and pull the trigger. The force of the shot sends me to my back from the resulting kick. Something I have to remember if I have to use it again.

“I think we’re good,” I say, pulling myself up with the trash can.

Glass is scatted across the concrete walkway in front of the door. The hole in the glass is small, nowhere near big enough to walk through. But with the shot being near the door, it may be large enough to reach my arm through the turn the lock.

I walk up to the glass door, watching the doorway carefully. When I’m close, I reach my hand in the hole and turn the deadbolt, careful not to touch the broken glass.

A loud siren goes off as the door opens. Out of instinct, I dive into the nearby bushes expecting an explosion. I stay on the ground, hands over my head for a minute, until I hear Sara laughing behind the truck.

When the sirens don’t stop, I pick myself off the ground and wipe off the grass and leaves once I’m on my feet. Nal would be the only person alive to make sure the alarm system works after the fact. It would have been nice if he told me. With the power out to the area, I’m not sure where it’s getting the electricity from, but I assume he had someone install some solar panels on the roof.

We walk through the doors and into the old lobby. Any remnants of the old world are long gone as the room is completely empty. No tables, not counters, not even the popcorn machine is left in the room. Just a layer of dust and grime over the old carpeted floors.

“Where do you think he hid the bombs?” Sara says, illuminating the room with a flashlight.

“Probably one of the theaters. I’m not sure how many he had, but I doubt they would fit in an office or storage room.” I point over to the hallway on the left. “Let’s start on that side.”

We creep through the hallway carefully as Sara scans the darkness with her light. When I reach the first room, I walk up to the door and open it slowly.

The smell of stale popcorn hits my nose as a rush of cold air fills the hall. We take our time walking down the entrance corridor, stopping only to check the trash can in an alcove near the entrance. I shake my head when I see it’s empty save for an empty trash bag the workers must have changed out the night before the Rising.

“I think this one’s a bust,” I say when Sara passes her flashlight through the seating. We don’t search every row knowing Nal wouldn’t try to hide them once inside.

The rest of the rooms we search on this side of the building are all empty as well, leaving me to believe the bombs are gone.

As we leave the room on the end, I catch a glimpse of light at the end of the hall. Knowing it should still be dark outside, it looks like we have company.

“Stay still and turn that off,” I say to Sara before she can leave the room. “I want to see them before they see us.”

She nods, walking back into the theater with me close behind once I see the lights getting closer.

We take up positions at the back row of the theater. The spot will give me a chance to see them coming while giving us a chance of hiding back here if they were to come inside.

My natural instincts tell me to leave her in the room safe while I go out in the hallway to deal with the others. Even without my powers, the reaction is still normal. My gut is a bit more rational than my instincts, reminding me I can’t stop bullets anymore.

The door below me swings open with a single flashlight shines in the darkness on the wall ahead of us. I lean over the half-wall railing to get a better view of the person below. One man slowly enters the room, flashlight in one hand and a wooden baseball bat in the other. Not exactly my weapon of choice in a normal fight, but it can work wonders in a place like this if you want to be quiet.

Placing the shotgun on the floor, I opt to pull out the sword to limit the noise I make. The last thing I want to do is let the whole crowd know we are here by shooting off a gun.

I make my way down the steps, careful to keep my body and sword below the height of the wall. Along the screen, the light stops moving well before I’m down the stairs, so I stop moving not wanting to make any extra noise.

I breathe through my nose when the light moves again, this time scanning the room instead of bouncing in front. Hugging the wall, I creep down the stairs even more carefully than before.

Three steps from the bottom, the light moves again. Bouncing the wall across the theater. When I see a leg cross over the side of the half-wall, I move in to strike.

My first attempt at killing the man is a wash as the blade deflects off of a nearby chair, the noise alerting him to my presence. When he looks at me, he drops the flashlight to the floor to grip the bat with two hands.

“The bombs are gone,” the man laughs before faking a swing. “You think we didn’t know about them too?”

I can’t see his face to know for certain, but the man almost sounds like he was at the hotel. Maybe not a permanent resident, but perhaps one of the guys who passed through occasionally. Considering Belial infiltrated the base as easy as he did, it would surprise me if there weren’t more demons involved.

Not saying a word, I swing the blade at a high arc directly at his head. He lifts the bat to block the blow though putting a nice gash in the side.

He rewards my miss with a fist to the gut, sending me reeling into the seats behind me. I grab my knife to naturally throw it at the thug. When blade is in the air, I raise my arm to put a little extra into it. Deep inside I can sense the metal, even feel it with my touch, but it misses wide when I’m unable to do anything with it.

“Look who lost their powers,” he says laughing as he closes in.

“I don’t need it to kill a punk like you,” I say, wielding the sword in a defensive stance in front of my body.

“Peter and I will be rewarded with a kingdom of our own when I take that fancy sword from your bleeding corpse.”

That confirms my thoughts about the hotel. Peter was a glorified dishwasher and errand boy back at the hotel. He spent a lot of time in the kitchen. That would make this Chuck, the cook.

“What reward do you get when I send you back to hell?” I step in, taking a jab at his gut he blocks easily with the bat. With me off balance he hits me in the jaw with the handle, splitting my lip.

Fighting a demon without my powers is a lot more difficult than I thought it would be. Not only am I a lot slower, I’m also not nearly as strong as he is. Thankfully, Chuck is still as overconfident as ever.

He fakes a swing at my head, that I move the sword up to block before jabbing the head of the bat into my gut. When the pain hits, I let out a grunt before taking a few steps back. Then he moves in for the kill.

With a loud yell he rears back, swinging the bat at a wide arc. I drop to my knees, avoiding the blow all thanks to the cover of the seats. When his momentum turns his body away, I stab my sword upwards into his chest.

The bat rattles across the chairs after he releases the bat to grab the sword in his chest. Not wanting to give him a chance to pull it out, I push the hilt between his legs. When he drops to his knees I know I hit his heart. Getting to my feet, I kick over the corpse to pull the blade out of his chest.

“One down,” I say, after I wipe the blade clean.

A gunshot echoes through the room, sending me reeling for cover. It takes a moment, but once I gather my nerves I poke my head over the seats to take a look. Out front near the entrance there is a man standing in the middle of the light missing the left half of his skull.

Not wanting to take a chance on him healing the wound, I rush down the stairs and remove the rest of his head with the edge of my sword.

“Nice shooting,” I say to Sara as she walks down the stairs with her light back on. She stops long enough to pick up my knife off the isle floor.

“Here,” she says.

“Keep it. It may come in handy.”

She smiles before placing the blade in the sheath I hand to her. If she is going to be with me, she needs a way to take them down too. I can’t help but feeling like it’s worthless without my power to assist throwing it around.

Who knows, it just may save her life.

We stop at the lobby to make sure the coast is clear before checking out the rest of the theater. The rest of the rooms were empty, leaving me to believe the thug. The demons must have taken them out of here long ago.

I hate to go back to Nal with the bad news, but I’m all out of options. Without the explosives to take out the tower, we are going to need another plan.

- 3 -

“There isn’t a spare tire?” Sara says with her hands on her hips.

“Nope,” I say, kicking the tire. “They didn’t store them underneath the truck until later on.”

Looking back on the highway I see the cause of the incident, a highway sign knocked onto the roadway. Not paying attention to what I was doing, I didn’t see the thing until it was too late. Doesn’t help that the headlights on this thing don’t work worth a damn.

“We should go back to the house,” Sara says, grabbing her stuff. “My car should still be there.”

“Sounds good to me,” I say. “The battle will be long over if we have to walk back.”

Belongings in hand, we start the trek back to the pad about five miles away. Walking in the darkness I make out packets of light off to the distance. It is too far to tell if it is a fire or electricity. But either way, someone isn’t afraid to stand out.

Opting to take a shorter route, I knock a few boards out of a privacy fence lining the highway. The previous owners of the house behind it probably installed the fence to keep the noise levels down so they could sleep at night. Having lived next to train tracks as a kid, I can understand why.

I thought I was going to be living in luxury when I finally moved out of that old house, but I spent the next few nights awake in my bed. After a few days, I bought a fan to create some noise.

Once the Rising hit, it took me a few weeks to get used to sleeping in total silence when the power failed.

About as long as it took for me to get used to sleeping on my own again.

We cross through the yard and into the street on the other side. Cars line the road on both sides, leaving little room for another one to pass. Probably just as well since the gas situation is going to get dire without electricity to fuel the gas pumps. We can probably make it a few more months by siphoning off the abandoned vehicles, but that may be a stretch. There’s no way to know how much of that supply is gone on already.

“Do you feel different?” Sara asks when we turn onto Page. Since we woke up in the back of the Expedition, she has been quiet. Almost too quiet. She is usually a bundle of energy just waiting to burst. So it makes me feel good she is finally opening up.

“A little,” I say. “Like there is part of me missing.”

She nods her head. “I feel the same way.”

“Really? You weren’t even possessed that long?”

“It’s the power,” she says, waving her fingers in the air. “My body feels empty without it.”

I’m inclined to agree. After four years I feel naked without my power.

“I keep telling myself its like having part of your body amputated. You have to change the way you do things to make up for the loss, but it will only hold you back if you let it,” I say, smiling.

She is silent for the next few blocks, waiting until we turn down our street to talk again.

“I want it back.”

I feel the same way but can’t help believing it is impossible, even foolish in our cases. Both of us fought against the demons at some point, using our powers to survive. It is going to be near impossible to find another one willing to hand his over while letting us enjoy our lives.

Approaching our house well after daybreak, I see her green Celica sitting in the driveway partially hidden by the lawn that hasn’t been cut in a few weeks.

OK, months. I never cut it unless Sara got onto me about it, which wasn’t often. It was a pain to cut when I finally got around to it though. I was tempted to find a Brush Hog to handle it then.

Opening the door to the house, I’m greeted by a large mess in the living room. Glass and debris are spread over the floor, covered with the books and pictures we kept on the shelves. Across the room, the couch is in pieces as both cushions are sliced open, their contents spread across the room.

The computer desk in the corner lies on the ground in a dozen shattered pieces, the case and monitor both split wide open. I don’t know what they were looking for, but they were thorough.

“Who do you think did this?” Sara asks, picking up the shattered remnants of her computer monitor.

It doesn’t take me too long to figure out. Likely after we started staying with Uriel, a group of demons came in and trashed the place looking for something. I’d put my guess on the orbs though it could have been anything, even me or the necklace.