The piece rang as Anne threw it down onto the table. She rubbed her hands on her pants. “Jesus.”
“The circle was resting across the eyes of the sacrifices. They were still breathing, even though those spikes must have gone deep into their brains. We tried to free them from the table, but as soon as the pieces stopped touching each other, they all died.”
Carlos looked at Leon. “No shit?”
Leon shrugged. “If that’s what the man says, then that’s what happened. Hell, it’s probably not even the weirdest thing he’s got stashed away in here.”
Carlos looked around the barn, a little wild eyed. “That’s great.”
A picture of that table, black and sticky with blood, flashed in front of my eyes. I still see it in my dreams sometimes. I remembered prying long nails out of one man’s arms and legs, and then the horrified screaming when we jostled the men enough for the metal pieces to stop touching. They didn’t die right away. First they screamed like I’ve never heard anyone scream before or since, as if their mouths and lungs simply couldn’t expel the terror and panic fast enough. Then each of them clawed at the plates where their eyes would be and died. I don’t know what they saw when looking through those metal pieces, but the shock of it is what killed them, not the spikes.
Leon looked at me across the table. “You say men are coming to get this part of the transmitter or radio or whatever it is?”
“And soon. I expect that the original owner is ready to put them to use again.”
“Fuck that shit. No way they’re getting it.”
“Hell yeah, brother,” said Carlos. “They messin’ with the wrong boys this time.”
Anne pointed a finger at Carlos. “These guys are really dangerous. Don’t get all cocky.”
Carlos laughed. “You worried about me, sweet thing? I’m touched. But me and Leon here got it covered. We’re Recon, baby, baddest of the bad. We’ll keep you safe, and you can think of a way to thank me afterwards.”
“I have no doubt you can handle yourselves,” I said, before Anne could start in on him, “but she’s right. Think junkie loaded up on PCP. You’re going to need a headshot to put them down for good, or at the very least knees and hips to get them on the floor.”
Carlos crossed his arms and leaned back from the table. “You’re shittin’ me.”
“No,” said Anne. “I’ve seen it. One of these guys killed my grandfather, and Abe shot him right in the chest. He didn’t even slow down.”
“Well, junkie or no junkie, I got a little something for him out in the truck.” He laughed and bumped fists with Leon.
Anne’s head snapped up and her eyes focused beyond the door towards the house. Seconds later, I heard the roar of an engine followed by the dull grinding sound of locked tires sliding to a stop on the loose gravel. “I don’t think you’re going to have time to get your surprise ready for the party. They’re here.”
11
Henry swore and threw the artifact back into its strongbox. “I thought you said we had until tonight?”
“I thought we did.” I ran to the door and pulled it open just enough to peer outside. A North Carolina state patrol car sat in the driveway. The doors popped open and two men sprang out, neither wearing uniforms. The one on the driver’s side was tall and lanky and carried a pistol, probably a Glock by the look of it. The other man was just as tall, but thick and powerful looking. A police-issue combat shotgun dangled from one hand. They turned their backs to me as they ran towards the house. I pulled back and eased the door shut.
“There’s two of ‘em. Looks like they acquired a police car, which explains how they got here so fast. No sleep and no speed limit changes the game.”
Anne gaped. “They have a police car?”
“I’m thinking that they were flying low in whatever car they had, half for the speed and half for bait. As soon a cop showed up, they probably killed him and took his car.”
“Wait,” said Leon. “If they took his car, then maybe help is already on the way. A lot of patrol cars have GPS locators built into them.”
“I hope so,” I said. “But I’m not holding my breath. My guess is that if the state could have tracked that car, they would have already stopped them with a roadblock before they got here. We have to assume that nobody is coming.” There was a crash from the house. They had broken down the front door. “Anybody in here armed?”
“Our shit’s in the truck,” said Leon. “Did you see their gear?”
“One has a shotgun, likely it came with the car, so that would make it a 12 gauge pump. The other one has a pistol, looks like a Glock. I’d guess that came from the cop as well. Henry, what do you have for us out here?”
Henry grinned and flipped open the second, larger box that he had brought to the table. Several revolvers and two boxes of bullets rested on a layer of small, brown-stained cotton bags. Several fist-sized cloth bags and coils of dull silver metal were stacked against one end.
He began passing out guns. “.357s for the gentlemen,” he said, handing the heavy stainless steel weapons to Leon and Carlos, and setting one on the table for himself. He looked at me, and I shook my head. He nodded, having expected that. “And a.38 for the lady,” handing her one of a pair of.38s. “Everyone is already loaded with hollow point rounds, and there’s more ammo in the box. Put some in your pockets. Sorry, but I don’t have any speed loaders.”
Carlos flipped his cylinder shut with a solid clack and looked at me. “What about you? Can’t shoot?”
“I’ll be good with this.” I patted the steel baton on my hip.
“Shit, man. You can’t bring a stick to a gunfight, you know? You need to pick up a piece.”
“Why should I worry? I’ve got two jarheads to handle these guys, right?”
“Lucky for you.”
I smiled at him. Bags are shit with guns, the worms make them shake and tremble when they get excited. They’re also psychotically aggressive and fast as hell, which means they can and will get in close. And they always carry something sharp.
Everyone jumped at the sound of glass breaking. A dull thump followed. The bags had thrown something heavy out of a window. They knew the piece was around here somewhere, they could probably sense it, but they weren’t sure exactly where. Good thing our side was a little more precise.
“Anne, where are they?”
She answered instantly. “Back of the house, in Henry’s bedroom.”
Carlos snorted. “What are you, Miss Cleo?”
Leon glanced at Henry, who nodded. “Tell me when they head this way.”
“Got it.”
“Henry,” I said, “give me the altar piece.” He handed it to me, and I loosened my belt and tucked it against my lower back, with the spines pointing outward. I snugged the belt tight between the two spines, strapping it to me. It was cold and unpleasant as hell, but those fuckers already had my piece and Patrick’s. I wasn’t losing this one.
Another crash from the house. Carlos went to the door.
“Okay, I think me and Leon should surprise them while they’re busy in the house. Take ‘em out before they know we’re here. You folks stay put.”
Leon trotted up and put his back against the wall, gun pointed at the ceiling. Carlos stood in front of the door and flexed his fingers on the grip of his pistol. He whispered to Leon.
“On three, I’ll go right, you go left. Ready?” Leon nodded and shifted his weight from foot to foot. Carlos put one hand on the knob. “One.”
The door flew open, and Carlos was yanked out of the doorway and into the yard. I moved a split second before Leon, letting me hit him in the legs as he was pivoting into the doorway to pursue. A shotgun boomed as we connected, and Leon was thrown back over my shoulder as I hit the ground.
I caught a glimpse of Carlos dangling by the neck from the hand of the bigger baitbag as I slapped the door shut from the floor, but it just bounced right back open.