Deck of Destiny 1, page 28
I was outclassed here. I didn’t have the upper hand by any stretch.
But I’d created a hell of a mess. The kind of thing the Leviathan wanted nothing to do with. I just had to stall until he realized it. Maybe until it was too late.
Wilson grinned at me. “You should’ve done your research.”
“Big talker when you’ve got my balls in a vise,” I gasped.
He stepped closer to me and flicked his rapier across my face. I barely managed to bring up an arm, and a razor-sharp line of pain opened up over my hand. My concentration vanished, and my Beast Claws vanished in a burst of red runes. Wilson chuckled, raised his weapon a little higher, and examined the blood droplets on the tip of his weapon.
“Human,” he noted. “Thought you might’ve been something more special.”
I stared at him for a long second and heard a frenzy of gunshots suddenly explode out in the courtyard. Wilson’s head snapped up toward the source of the noise, and Mayce chose to make her move. Her dagger materialized in her hand, and she shoved off the wall in a desperate rush. Wilson neatly sidestepped her attack, jammed her leg, and slapped her across the face. Mayce collapsed to the ground beside me with a yelp, and I forced myself out to cushion her head before it could crack off the bricks behind us.
“I wouldn’t,” Wilson told me. “Harder you struggle, the worse it gets.”
White spots danced in front of my vision.
More gunshots echoed out, and the Leviathan leader stared out of the alleyway for a second. Mayce flipped her dagger around in her hand, but I caught her thigh with a hand and shook my head. She gritted her teeth but sank back against the wall beside me.
“Lot of noise, right?” I managed. “You tell your people what they were walking into?”
Wilson turned his cold eyes back to me. “You think they’re my people?”
“Your mercs, then,” I muttered. “Soldiers of fortune. Hired guns.”
He bared his teeth in a wolfish smile. “No idea what you’re talking about.”
That was as good an admission of guilt as I’d ever heard.
I did my absolute best not to look right at the entry to the alleyway. My truck was idling on the other side, maybe five yards away from the mouth of the alley. I hadn’t heard anything from Elsie except her scream. It hadn’t sounded like she’d taken a shot, more a sound of surprise, but I wasn’t exactly the leading expert on gunshot wounds.
Wilson’s curse tightened another notch around my chest.
“You might want to fuck off,” I wheezed. “Not good PR to be here right now.”
His eyes narrowed. “The fuck are you talking about?”
Mayce shot him a savage grin. “Dragons.”
Wilson’s eyes widened a touch. “What?”
“Big flying fuckers with scales,” I said. “Also a Guild, I think.”
He took a half-step back. “What the fuck are you talking—”
The rumble of something that sounded like a herd of Harleys rolled in to join the chaos of gunfire, shouts, and screams of pain. I had no idea what was going on out there. It was enough to set my teeth on edge. Mayce’s grin widened, and her knuckles whitened around the stiletto in her hand.
“We brought friends,” Mayce told him.
Wilson looked like she’d just slapped him. “You did what?”
The bands of violet energy tightened around my chest again, and I fought against the sudden urge to pass out. My vision shrank into a tiny tunnel, and Wilson lifted his rapier and took a short step forward.
“Doesn’t fucking matter,” he snarled. “You brought this on yourself.”
A flare of pure flame exploded across my vision, and the sudden pressure on my lungs vanished. Air rushed into my lungs, and Wilson wheeled around to face the other entry of the alley. A stout figure in a leather jacket stalked forward. Red magic glowed around his hands, and balls of fire danced in both of his hands. Black scorch marks scored the wall beside Wilson, and he stared at the approaching figure with a blend of fury and amusement.
“Rig,” Wilson said.
The Dragon lieutenant didn’t slow his stride. “Fuck off, Wilson.”
“Foot to the right and it would’ve been a declaration of war,” Wilson replied.
“It was a warning,” Rig told him coldly. “Fuck. Off.”
“They’re Guildless. Nothing to you.” Wilson raised his free hand and tapped his scarred face. “They wronged me. You know how that goes. Protecting them—”
“Last warning,” Rig told him.
Wilson met the guy’s eyes and actually backed away.
“You’re fucking insane,” Wilson snapped. “You know the stakes.”
“I know that there have been plenty of casualties on my side from those pricks outside,” Rig told him. “You being here just confirms it. You’re the fucker who’s been striking out against the rest of us.”
“You can’t prove shit,” Wilson snarled.
The fireballs in Rig’s hands flared up. “I’m happy to go down if it means wiping your slimy little grease stain of a life off the fucking planet. Put up or shut up, Leviathan.”
Wilson hesitated.
The guy could’ve turned, run me through, and run for it without any consequences. I hadn’t asked Rig to back us. Hell, I was surprised the guy had even come to our rescue. The sheer fury in the Dragon’s eyes was enough to scare the scarred fucker in front of us. Wilson’s rapier dissipated into a cloud of indistinct magic, and he backed away from Mayce and me. He held his hands up in a gesture of compliance.
“I’m here for personal reasons,” Wilson told him. “Not to fight you.”
Rig lifted a hand, and the ball of fire in his hand flared up until it was the brightness of a small sun. My breathing finally stabilized, and I pushed up off the wall with a groan. Wilson saw the movement and bolted out of the alleyway.
A high-pitched howl erupted from the end of the alleyway.
Elsie’s Greatsword came in out of nowhere, and she brought it down like some kind of divine guillotine. Wilson’s snake-like reflexes saved him. He dived into a backstep, and the blade ripped past his shoulder. Blood sprayed out of his shoulder, and the Leviathan bolted away from Elsie. I grabbed the wall to haul myself up and offered an arm to Mayce. She took it and glanced back at Rig.
The Dragon glared at the two of us.
“You played us,” Rig snarled.
I kept a straight face and did my best not to look terrified.
“I gave you what you wanted,” I fired back.
“So why are the fucking Giants here?” he demanded.
“Outside of their territory?” Elsie asked.
The gorgeous Texan stepped into the alley. Her enormous shield flickered to life on her arm, and she rested the flat side of her enormous sword on her shoulder.
Rig stared at her for a second and then glanced down at Mayce.
The former Dragon met his eyes as I pulled her up beside me.
“We’re square,” Rig snapped. “I’m not bailing you out anymore.”
“Thank you,” Mayce told him. “You saved our ass.”
“Last fucking time, Mayce,” he told her.
The guy turned and sprinted back out into the fray in the main thoroughfare of the Fairgrounds. The sounds of battle swelled up in volume again. I draped Mayce’s arm over my shoulder, and I half-carried her toward the Dodge. Elsie shot me a quick, daring grin and lunged up into the back of the tray. The front windscreen of the truck was a mess of spider-webbed glass. I hauled open one of the back doors and helped Mayce up into the cab.
“Go!” Elsie shouted.
I hauled open the driver’s side of the truck, jumped into the cab, and slammed it into gear. The Ram howled as I stomped on the gas, burned rubber, and got us moving. Something smashed into the side of my truck as it finally hit traction, and instinct drew my eyes to the source of the impact. Two guys in a familiar sedan gunned their engine, and one leaned out of the window. He set something to his shoulder, and I ducked my head down.
Two rounds sprayed through the passenger-side window, spraying me with glass.
The truck bounced over a curb, found grass, and slewed a little as we rocketed toward the gap we’d made in the fence. I heard Elsie shout as we tore through the chain-link fence. I hauled my head up above the dash again to see where we were going and spun the wheel to get us back toward the highway. My pulse pounded in my ears as fresh rounds whipped past the truck. The whine of the sedan wasn’t getting any quieter.
I’d just found myself at the front end of a race toward safety.
And the guys in second place weren’t happy about their position.
My truck tore up grass and dirt as I guided it past the fence line. I cranked it into third gear as we went and swore to myself that if I got out of this alive, I was going to find some kind of magical body armor. For my team and for my truck.
“Mayce?” I shouted.
“Here,” she said weakly. “Still here.”
A round ricocheted off Elsie’s shield, shattered my truck’s back window, and I had a crazy moment of gratitude for the fact that the people after us couldn’t shoot for shit. Maybe they could, but firing from a moving car was damned hard. Hitting a moving target was even harder. I wove the truck back and forth as we dropped down into the grass park on the south side of the Fairground. Rounds bit into the grass to either side of us, and a couple of others punched into my truck’s bodywork.
“Go, Matt!” Elsie howled.
I couldn’t tell if it was excitement, encouragement, or pure terror in her voice.
Probably all three. I could barely see out the front of the truck, but I didn’t dare to stick my head out of the window to see where the hell we were going. I steered the truck toward the distant lights, and things got bumpy as I smashed the truck through a fence and barely missed some kind of playground.
“Go right!” Elsie shouted.
I spun the wheel accordingly, and the truck’s wheels bit into asphalt again. I flicked on the truck’s lights, and a jagged sight picture appeared ahead of us. We’d made our way onto a road in the suburbs somewhere. Gunshots tore over our heads as we went, and I muttered a curse as I swerved to avoid a parked car.
“We’re shaking them!” Elsie shouted.
“Next turn,” Mayce gasped. “Take the next left.”
I down-shifted, hit the brakes, and slewed the Dodge to the right. I didn’t know how far we’d made it, but I was pretty sure we were on the edges of Giant territory. The sheer closeness of the last call we’d had with Rig hung heavy on my mind. I had no idea if the Giants would be more accommodating, but I had a distinct impression that they weren’t in a friendly mood. Another gunshot rang out, whipped past my ear, and smashed into my windscreen.
A sudden bolt of fury rolled through my body like a goddamn inferno.
“Fuck this!”
I summoned my Deck, and my summon cards flickered up in front of my eyes. I could touch them with my mind. They were back online. The Combat Encounter had either reset itself or the cooldowns had dropped off after our altercation with Wilson. It didn’t matter either way to me.
I was fucking sick and tired of these clowns busting up my newly-fixed truck.
“Elsie!” I shouted. “Turtle up!”
She ducked down in the tray and raised her Greatshield. I could just see the lights of the sedan behind us as we pounded down the dead Northside suburbs. Lights were flickering on in the houses around us, and I knew we didn’t have long before the cops arrived.
Or the Giants.
I’d have preferred the cops.
We didn’t have time for either. I could stay on the run from these bastards halfway through the city. I didn’t know if they’d run dry on ammo. But the longer I drew it out, the more tired Elsie would get. The more opportunities they’d have to wing any one of us.
And I was fucking done with these pricks.
Some small, reasonable voice in the back of my head told me that I had a death wish.
I hadn’t asked for any of this. I hadn’t asked to get shot at, pummeled, or pushed into a situation where I’d had to run for my life every single fucking day.
I was goddamn done with that.
I was done running.
Time to take the fight to these pricks.
“Brace!” I heard myself shout.
I hauled the truck onto the sidewalk, slammed on the brakes, and pulled the truck to a sliding halt. My Deck flared around my hand as I pushed the door open and lunged out of the moving car. I caught my balance as I hit the concrete, lifted my hand, and summoned my Knarlback Alpha into being in the middle of the road. The sedan’s lights appeared around a corner as my monster materialized in a wash of green light. The knarlback lunged forward without so much as a sound, barreling straight for the sedan.
I didn’t know what the shooters were expecting.
But they probably weren’t counting on us being parked.
Or standing our ground against magical bullets.
The driver of the sedan slammed his foot down on the brakes, but the momentum of the vehicle was too much. I tore into a sprint after my knarlback and aimed it straight at the center of our pursuers’ hood. The knarlback opened up its maw with a rumbling snarl, lowered its head, and smashed straight into the front of their car like a bunker-busting missile.
The front of the sedan caved in like it was made of cardboard.
The engine screamed for a split second and cut off with a rattling cry. Airbags exploded inside the interior of the car, slamming the passengers back against their seats. One guy howled as he hung out of the side of the car. He lost his grip on his rifle, and my boots slammed against the pavement as I closed in on him first. A gray hoodie obscured his features, and his eyes turned up to find mine with a terrified look. My Beast Claws shimmered around my hands as I finally closed the distance, and I punched him straight in the jaw with everything I had. The guy’s eyes rolled up into his head as I cracked his skull off the frame of the door.
I didn’t have much time. I needed answers.
It wouldn’t be long before the Arbiters, the Giants, or the cops turned up.
The driver snarled a curse. Blood coated the airbag in front of him, and he clawed his way through it. An old-fashioned revolver flared into existence in his hand, and I swung out of sight before he could get a bead on me. The gun fired, and the slug went wide. My claws flashed out, and I tore his fingers clean off his hand in a spray of blood and sinew.
“Fuck!” he howled.
I got my hand around the car door, tore it open, and slammed my claws straight into his shoulder. The talons pierced his skin and muscle, found purchase on bone, and I tore him straight out of the driver’s side before he could do anything about it. The guy collapsed on the asphalt, and I dropped a knee straight into his gut to drive the air out of him and keep him stunned. I curled my claws a little deeper into the real estate of his shoulder and glanced up at the guy in the shotgun seat.
He was slumped back in his seat and not moving.
I turned my attention down to the guy underneath me. He looked up at me with wild eyes. The hood had fallen away from his face, and he didn’t look much older than me. There was nothing particularly special about his features, but that just worked to his advantage. His job was to carry out hits on other Players. It wasn’t like he wanted to be remembered.
“Answer my questions and you get to live,” I told him.
His eyes filled with tears, and he gave me a shaky nod. “Please, man. I didn’t—”
“Where are you getting the guns?” I demanded.
“I don’t know, man. Someone said something about an Architect—”
“Matt!” Elsie screamed from behind me.
My head snapped up, and I saw the flash of a gun from the passenger in the sedan. I dropped to my side out of sheer reflex, and a round zipped past where my head had been a second ago. The passenger twisted in his seat, shot the airbag to deflate it, and wormed his way into the driver’s seat with a look of sheer hatred on his face.
I slashed upward as he came in and took out his eye.
The guy fell back with a scream of pain. He twisted in his seat, aimed his pistol at his own compatriot in the back seat, and yanked back on the trigger. His fellow shooter didn’t even have a chance to defend himself. His head burst open like an overripe fruit, and I tore my Claws out of the guy under me. I dived for cover behind the engine block.
But the Player wasn’t aiming for me.
The driver’s eyes widened as his own team member angled the gun at him.
“What the fuck are you—”
The passenger shot him in the face twice, splattered his brains all over the road, and collapsed back into the seat with a groan of relief. Card essence swirled up into his chest, filled him with the same hit of endorphins that I’d experienced killing other Players, and he grinned at me through a mask of blood.
“You’re dead,” he said thickly.
I bear-crawled as fast as I could around the car to try and close the distance. The passenger lifted his own pistol, jammed it against his temple, and yanked back on the trigger. The weapon exploded into runes in his hand the second after it took his head off. I stared at the essence as it swirled into his chest, dissipated, and left nothing behind.
He’d killed his own guys. And himself.
Just to stop me from getting their Cards.
And their information.
What the fuck was I dealing with here?
“Matt!” Elsie shouted again.
I forced myself back up to my feet, left the ruined car and corpses behind on the street, and sprinted for the cab of the Dodge. We had to get off the X.
I could ask questions when we were home safe.
Chapter 29
My memory got hazy once I got the Dodge back to the Castledaine.
The sheer fatigue, insanity, death, and destruction took its toll on me. I had a handful of memories and flashes of sensation. Burning pain in my hand. Elsie’s voice in my ear. A beautiful woman in a red dress with a nice voice and shimmering white hands over Mayce’s body. Daine’s strong grip caught me around the wrist at some point. People’s words blended into a weird world of gray. I must’ve fallen asleep at some point because when I woke up, I was back in my bed.
