Part 50 (1/2)

”Ee got an axe, too,” the Stickman observed.

”For all the good it'll do him,” Tony commented. He looked up and studied the last of their attackers. This one had held back for some reason. Perhaps he was the brains. Then, Tony recognized the figure's gear. ”A f.u.c.kin' fireman?”

Danny shook his head. ”That ain't no fireman, Tony,” he said quietly. ”Don't know what the f.u.c.k it is, but we met up with a few of its partners back on the highway. It ain't no fireman.”

”No fireman,” Crew said. He tossed the bat back to Danny as he went forward, ”I'll finish this.” He produced his knife.

”TONY!!”

The cry of his name caused Tony to look back to the cabin. Crew paused only for a moment to recognize that it was the woman calling out, and that Tony could probably take care of whatever it was she wanted. He continued onwards.

”What is it?” Tony shouted back.

”Come here!” Lucy called to him. ”We need you!”

”More dead things?” Tony asked.

”No, no!” Lucy said. ”It's Frank! He wants you!”

Nodding, Tony looked to the Stickman and Danny. ”Make sure that fire p.r.i.c.k over there doesn't get away. And keep a lookout.”

Both men nodded. When Tony moved in the direction of the cabin, they calmly regarded each other. The Stickman stood unflinching not three feet away from the Legend of the Beacon. He was torn between staying and following Tony back to the cabin. But Danny was watching him. Danny studied the man with the same sleepy intensity that made him a force to be feared. In his hands, he held a black-stained bat. The Stickman eyed it. Then, Danny did something that surprised the Stickman. He reached into his pocket and held out the short Beretta blade.

”Think you can use this?” he asked.

”I tink so,” Stickman said taking it.

Danny nodded and studied him grimly. ”Just so afterwards, when I shove this bat up your a.s.s, you don't go whining you didn't have a fair chance.”

To that, the Stickman just smiled.

Trudging through the knee-high snow, Crew closed the distance between him and the last of the firemen. He drew to within five feet and brought up his knife. He watched the black ski mask. He readied himself for a swing of the fire axe. But the fireman did not move.

”You waiting for something here?” Crew asked. ”An invitation?”

Grey Northman scowled behind his mask. He disliked having to converse with such s.h.i.+t-low forms.

”Well?”

The sky had lightened considerably in the time it took the Mundane to get to him. Grey Northman estimated that it would only be another few minutes, and the sun would crack the mountain line and frame it all in red. He did not care for the sun. He decided then and there that he was a thing born in darkness.

And so he would perish in it, as well.

Grey Northman flexed his fingers on the shaft of his fire axe. The game was not finished yet. He had one last card to play. In one nimble move, he dropped a leg back for balance and raised his axe to strike, bringing it up like a sword.

Crew buried his knife in Northman's throat.

The pain exploded in the Minion's neck just above his Adam's apple. He could feel the wrongness of the impalement and welcomed the blissful agony that rushed through his senses, firing up his nerves like lit fuses. The pain was mind paralyzing, but Northman willed himself to perform one thing, even as he fell to his knees, dropping his axe.

His fingers found the hilt of the knife.

Crew watched the fireman without emotion. He had watched men die before. It was nothing new to him.

But then, while on his knees with blackness spraying out over his protective coat and staining the snow, the fireman gripped the knife and twisted it. He gargled something, but then the life seemingly left him, and he fell over on his side.

The action caused Crew to draw back. That s.h.i.+t was f.u.c.ked up.

He stepped in, crouching, only half thinking about retrieving his knife.

A shadow fell across him.

Crew had just enough time to glance up when the fist caught him square underneath the jaw. Several of Crew's front teeth were shattered. He flew backwards to land flat on his back in a cus.h.i.+on of snow, his limbs sticking up and outwards as if he had just been shot and left in a dumpster.

It was the brazen sound of flesh striking flesh that caused Danny and the Stickman to turn their heads. Danny did not know who he was looking at. The Stickman knew, and froze in his tracks, wondering if he ran, what his chances would be.

For standing over the twitching form of Grey Northman was the tall, half-naked form of the thing known only as Pain.

Gazing from the window of the wrecked cabin, Fear's mouth dropped open just as Tony crossed the threshold of the cabin's wrecked entrance.

”Well, s.h.i.+t,” Fear muttered.

”'Sup, frightful?” Death quipped from the couch, pleasantly high.

”You'll never guess who just showed up.”

Tony turned around in the doorway. Lucy ran to the window beside Fear and peered out.

”Pain?” Death asked, his senses barely returning to orbit around his planet.

”Yeah.”

”s.h.i.+t,” Tony cursed and headed back out.

f.u.c.k, Death mouthed soundlessly and laid his head back on his pillows.

”Do what you do, man,” Death called out to Fear. One arm shot up from the couch like a missile being primed for launch. ”Cry Havoc!”

Fear's brow crunched up in concentration as he focused on the Mundanes.

He would do just that.

Chapter 71.

In the pre-dawn light, Pain grinned at the fallen Crew and flexed the fist that had put the man down. Dark skinned and head shaved, his face was worn and weather beaten, but not old. He drew himself up to his full height, perhaps an inch or two above Danny and that much wider. Pain studied the two men watching him. They stayed in place for a few seconds, and then they slowly approached. The Ent.i.ty nodded and grunted loudly. That was good. He hated it when he had to chase his victims.

He produced a short, harsh chuckle. He flexed his upper torso and everything rippled with muscular power. He beat a fist against his hairless chest and roared at the stalled men. His fists clenched open and closed, and a thin line of saliva trailed from his lips. His biceps bulged as if he were trying to curl an invisible weight. Pain took one step forward, fully expecting the now three men to turn and bolt for the hills.