“They became Mud People?”
The carcass shifted so its hollowed-out eye sockets were pointed at Cole.
They weren’t people no more. Not while that fire was in ’em.
“What about after? Can they be cured?”
They ain’t sick. They’s changed. Lancroft changed ’em. Everyone I see’s been changed. Everyone but Skinners, leeches, and the like.
“So everyone will turn into these Mud People?”
Not unless I’m here to stoke the fire, but I don’t plan on bein’ here no more. See, I hear the stars now. I feel this wide open space an’ all I gotta do is go there. I meant to go there before, but Dr. Lancroft told me not to.
Daniels rushed into the room amid the thump of clumsy footsteps and the clatter of everything shifting within the metal case he carried. Cole waved furiously for him to be quiet, but the noise didn’t seem to bother Henry. The carcass was motionless and the pathetic excuse of a face was still aimed at the Skinner.
I won’t stoke no more fires. I promise. IpromiseIpromise.
The upper portion of the carcass twitched, and Cole instinctively reached out to hold it down.
You broke me outta one hellhole, Skinner, an’ now you busted me outta another. Suppose I should thank you.
“Just tell me how to put an end to Pestilence, Henry. Then we’re even.”
Daniels stopped trying to get Cole’s attention and tried to make sense of the fact that he was having a conversation with a very quiet and very dead werewolf.
Unconcerned with whether the Nymar could hear Henry’s voice, Cole said, “Tell me how to get rid of Pestilence!”
Without me, there ain’t no Pestilence. Folks’ll get sick, but they’ll get better so long as I’m gone. They only listened to me. But you gotta swear somethin’ to me.
With that, the peeled, brutalized head of the Full Blood slid toward Cole, freezing him in his place and sending Daniels skidding backward into a set of cabinets.
There’s somethin’ I want you to take so’s you can use it to do the Lord’s work. I can feel it nearby.
“Take what?” As soon as he asked the question, Cole found the answer tucked neatly into the back of his head.
Talk to yer friend on the floor. He’ll tell ya what to do with it, but the rest of me gets buried. You’re a good man, but the resta you Skinners is a buncha ghouls. Bury me proper and there ain’t no more Pestilence. That’s the deal. Break it and I’ll know.
“All right. You got a deal.”
The Full Blood’s snout thumped against the table as if the string holding it up had been cut.
Daniels stood with his arms wrapped around the case that hung open like a street vendor’s display of knockoff watches. “Are you still hearing voices?” he asked Cole.
“No. Where are the Mud People?”
“Heading to their homes.”
“Are they all right?”
“Well enough to call the cops,” Daniels replied. “Can we go now?”
“How’s Rico?”
“I went to inject him with some healing serum, but he didn’t really need it. He’s unconscious and the wound on his chest is…fading.”
“Fading?” When Daniels nodded, Cole asked, “Is he all right?”
“Sure he is. I wish I had a woman like that stroking my hair and holding me right against her—”
“Okay, then. Get him ready to move and call Tristan. See if there’s a way for her to zap you out of here. I’m going after Paige.”
Not only was the Nymar sweating profusely, but he shook badly enough to dump half of his supplies onto the floor. “Take some serum in case she’s hurt.”
Cole gathered up as many of the little syringes as he could find and was about to run through the narrow door beside the computer desk when he spotted another vial. “Is that what I think it is?”
“Leave that,” Daniels snapped when Cole took the vial. “It needs to be disposed of properly!”
Despite Daniels’s protests, Cole took the vial along with another piece of equipment from that same case. His eyes were then drawn to a rack of long, skinny drawers set against the wall on the other side of the table. There were over a dozen of them, but Cole went immediately to the eighth shelf from the top and pulled it open. The entire tray was covered by a thin metal lid, so he pulled it out and tossed it to Daniels.
“Take that and get the hell out of here!”
The confused Nymar barely managed to catch the tray before Cole hurried down the stairs.
The hallway seemed to stretch for miles, and the farther Paige was forced back, the more the floor sloped beneath her. Lancroft didn’t show the first indication of tiring as the battle escalated to a personal war. When his opponent countered his tactics, he simply shifted his weapon along with his fighting style. The rooms appeared at regular intervals on either side of the hall. Some were filled with old crates and others were fashioned into cells. Only a few cells contained living specimens, none of which had any place among civilized man.
“There are others who know about your transgressions,” Lancroft said as he swung his weapon at Paige. The staff had become a small halberd to accommodate faster swings in a confined space. “When Kansas City almost fell, there was talk of removing you before any more damage was done.”
“Talk is all you do, old man.” Paige used the double-bladed sickle to slash at his face, and the cleaver for more solid strikes to his arms and legs. Apart from a number of shallow cuts and a few bleeders, most of her attacks were blocked or dodged. Lancroft was just too quick, too practiced in his style, and too accustomed to his home turf.
When Paige hopped back to avoid being gutted by a vicious swing, she was able to see what was in the alcoves in that section of the hall. The one to her left was filled with clutter, but the one to her right had a metal box attached to the wall. She hit the box with a solid blow from her machete, removing some of Lancroft’s advantage along with the overhead lights amid a shower of sparks.
“Stupid,” Lancroft snarled. He walked forward slowly and carefully, shifting his weapon into a thin pole with curved blades on each end. The blades were angled forward so when the staff was spun in front of him, it became a meat grinder filling the hallway from floor to ceiling. Anyone close enough to hear the subtle hiss of the blades whipping through the air would quickly feel them chop through flesh and bone.
But Paige didn’t need to guess where Lancroft was. She didn’t need to listen for his movement or try to get past him. The drops in her eyes allowed her to make out vague shapes in the dark as well as the dim, luminescent scent waves drifting off him. His scent was all over the bricks and bars and floor, lighting up the place for her enhanced eyes like a layer of glowing fungus. Scents from the other creatures floated through the air as well, only to be mixed up by the spinning staff as he cautiously inched down the hall. She knew better than to get overly confident. The old man’s guard would be up more now than ever, and if there was a switch to activate any backup lights, Lancroft would know where to find it.
Paige shifted into a sideways stance before extending the cleaver so it cracked against Lancroft’s weapon. He responded with a flurry of blows that barely interrupted the circular motion of the staff. Both blades came at her, one after another, end over end. Even though she easily deflected most of the attacks and backed away from the rest, she was about to run out of hallway. Something snarled in one of the cages at the far end of the subbasement to let her know the spinning wooden blades wouldn’t be the only threat she would have to face. She couldn’t make out much within that cell even with her drops, but the bulky shape was unlike anything she’d ever seen.