Though I should have been getting ready to hand the key piece over to the Nephilim, I just stood there. My chest felt tight, every breath an effort of will. Karra gone, what little energy I had left flickered and faded away. It had been a rough couple of days and the gauge was dipping below empty.
Lulled into believing I was gone, the nearby crickets started up again. Their quiet chirps flittered in the background, the gentle breeze carrying them to my ears. Bound to fall asleep if I stayed any longer, I forced my feet forward, scooping up my makeshift bag, Black’s arm, and the manacles on the way.
As I circled around to the front of the mausoleum, I listened for the night guy and heard him talking to himself as he went around adjusting the sprinklers. Not wanting to run into him, I changed directions and headed toward the back gate. The breeze had picked up some, its gusts helping to keep me moving.
A rumble of thunder sounded overhead and I sighed. A good distance from the closest teleporter, the last thing I needed was rain. I picked up the pace a little, expecting to get soaked, as another boom shook the sky, followed by another. Lightning flashed above and I caught its shimmering reflection in the polished stone of a grave marker. It glistened purple for a split-second, then vanished.
Spurred on by the increasing winds, I did my best to put a little more oomph in my step. I’d made it about ten feet before my sleep-deprived brain processed what I had seen.
My heart stilled in my chest, and I stopped, looking straight up at the mass of white clouds that hung low and thick right above me. Purple lightning cavorted in the sky, its flickering tongues licking at the clouds that encased it. Like a cornered cat, my eyes flitted back and forth trying to find an area of clear sky.
There wasn’t any.
The winds slowed and died away as the overpowering stench of death began to fill the air with choking bitterness. The clouds started to lighten, the storm illuminating the sky with an eerie glimmer.
My eyes alighted on the mausoleum, the only shelter in the area close enough to reach. Terror lit fire to my feet and they flew across the grassy field of graves, the bag flapping behind me, the manacles clinking together and slapping my back. I closed the distance fast, my breath whistling in my lungs. As I swung around the far edge of the building, I spied a flashing light a couple of gardens away. Screeching to a stop, my heels digging into the asphalt, I looked out across the cemetery to see Marvin. Flashlight in hand, he stood there casting its beam along the ground, looking for something. Oblivious to the storm, he made no effort to flee.
I looked up at the sky again to see the first flutters of the deadly snow drifting down. The mausoleum just ten easy feet from where I stood, a quick dash away, the voices in my head screamed for me to go inside. That is, all but one.
My mother.
“You better be proud, woman.” The things us mama’s boys do. Certain I was gonna die playing hero, I beat feet toward Marvin. Caught up in his own world, he didn’t notice me until I was huffing and puffing right in front of him.
He shrieked and curled up in a ball as soon as I reached him.
“Damn it, Marvin, get the Hell up!”
He whimpered, muttering something about God and forgiveness, spewing out a list of sins that was impressive. It sounded like a perverse prayer, rattled off in hyper speed.
No time to talk sense into him or congratulate him on a life well-lived, I looped my arm around his and tried to pull him to his feet. No friend of gravity, all three hundred and fifty pounds of him resisted.
“Get up!” I screamed again, damn near yanking his arm out of socket.
He got to his feet only to save his arm. Wide eyed with terror, he just stood there staring, his body rigid in defiance. A quick glance up told me we were fixing to die. The snow was thickening as it fell, ominous in its approach.
No chance of making it back to the mausoleum, not that it would protect us anyway, I surveyed the garden for something to hide under. There was nothing. My heart sank and joined my balls, which were hiding deep inside my ass. Not ready to die, I looked around one last desperate time and noticed a sheet of plywood on the ground just a few feet from us. Suddenly remembering why a board would be there in the middle of the garden, I sunk my hand into the flab of Marvin’s arm and dragged him along behind me.
There, I lifted the plywood up and breathed a relieved sigh as I saw the open grave beneath it. No time to worry about kindness, I shoved Marvin into the hole, tossed my luggage in, then jumped in after. Marvin landed with a pained grunt. Whimpers and quiet sobs followed as I straightened the board to make sure it covered the hole completely. Though I knew it wouldn’t hold up against the snow for more than a minute, it was something.
A quick look around the grave told me it wouldn’t be empty for long; the storm was running a two-for-one sale. Not interested in dying, and even less interested in dying with Marvin, I kicked my brain into high gear. There had to be a way out.
Suddenly, a light came on.
It was Marvin’s flashlight, but I had an idea too.
“Is there anyone buried on this side?” I asked the groundskeeper. Still obviously terrified, the bitter stink of urine wafting up inside the confined grave, Marvin didn’t answer.
Our lives on the line, I couldn’t wait for him to get it together. I ran my hand along the grave wall and the moist dirt crumbled beneath my fingers. It was all the encouragement I needed. Like a dog, I sunk my hands into the dirt about halfway down the wall and started digging. It gave way easily; at first.
Handfuls of dirt flew between my legs as I tore into the wall, but the further I got, the harder it became. Knotted roots ran through the dirt, the tangled mess compressed together by time. The wall came away in solid chunks, each inch giving way slower and slower.
Above us, I could hear the snow sizzling against the board, a quiet creak accompanying it as it settled thick overtop. Desperation setting in, I channeled every ounce of energy I had into my hands, willing my magic into being.
Nothing happened.
Continuing to dig, I pushed harder, wishing I had time to ingest another vial of Lucifer’s blood. Too late for that, I scoured the depths of my will and scrounged for every ounce of power I could find. At last, a dull flicker of energy came to life at my fingers.
I nearly soiled myself in relief.
Aided by the wispy strength of my magic, my fingers tore through the wall like a bulldozer. Dirt fell away in massive clumps, crumbling into a pile around my boots. Marvin scrambled to avoid being buried, getting to his feet in a sudden rush of activity.
“Touch that board and I’ll kill you, Marvin,” I told him without even looking. I heard him thump down behind me, his sobs beginning anew.
There was a sharp crack that sounded above us, just as my hand smacked against the solid wall of a concrete liner. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a white flake flutter down into the grave; our grave.
Our time was up.
“No!” a voice in my head screamed. More afraid than I’d ever been, I couldn’t imagine being eaten away piece by piece, the fall devouring me until I existed no longer. Driven by my terror, I snatched up Black’s stiff arm and swung it at the wall of the liner.
It crashed into it with a resounding thud, knocking a fist-sized chunk of old concrete off and splitting the liner to its lid. Marvin screeched behind me and began to thrash about, but I didn’t look back. I knew what happened when the smell of seared flesh stung my nose, so I put everything I had left into the next swing. With a solid boom that rang my ears, the arm shattered the liner wall, its rebar reinforcement sagging under the weight of the concrete.
Safety but a second away, the smell of old death rushing out to assail my nose, I dropped the arm and grabbed onto the rebar frame. Pulling with all my weight and strength, remnants of my magic fluttering at my hands, the frame buckled with a loud squeal and collapsed at my feet. The liner’s decayed occupant glared at me through cavernous sockets.