She broke into a sprint, her eyes fixed on the engine of the train. A warning whistle sounded again, imploring her not to race it. The inexorable grind of the wheels along the track wasn't slowing down for anything. She bolted the rush of air from the train catching up with her. Her arms pumped furiously. Her chest tightened. Only a few more steps and she might be able to make it. Her foot hit a patch of rocks that slipped from under her. Twisting her ankle, she tumbled to the ground, careening toward the tracks, but with slowing momentum. She came to a stop five feet from the tracks. The train cutting her off, she turned in time to see her shadow beast leap upon her.
Tristan slashed at them with her blades, but for every rent shadow, two others sprang up to replace it. Thick fingers gripped Percy's head as if attempting to separate him from his shoulders. The dark wraith hovered over him. Likewise another coiled itself around Wayne like an anaconda squeezing the life out of him. He couldn't work his hands free enough to grip the obsidian creature properly.
King's beast launched itself at him with maniacal fury.
King forced his hands into a defensive position, waiting to swing at the encroaching cast of shadows. He launched himself with reckless abandon, thrown off balance by his own attacks. Dizzy from pain and blood loss. The creature formed a mallet with its fists and pummeled King. Part of him wanted to curl into a ball as Dred's crew gathered around to watch the blood sport for their entertainment. They called for his death. He would show them how he would go out. His hand stretched, reaching out for the hilt of his Caliburn. His fingers scrabbled hungrily for it once they found purchase. He worked the gun into his hand and a renewed vigor filled him. The endless chorus of the poor and the powerless cried for his blood until a tiny voice cut through the din.
"Daddy?"
The crowd fell silent and parted as Dred escorted a little girl forward.
"Nakia?" King asked. Then the darkness overwhelmed him.
Lee parked in the Indianapolis Zoo and waited as he decided whether or not to call for backup. In his patrol car, alone. The situation seemed too large. He didn't know what was out there. What awaited him. The last time he was caught up in a situation like this was with the mad man, Green. Lee still remembered him lumbering toward him, no longer human-looking. A mass of flesh and branches, he carried a human head which it had just severed. It was just him. Scared. Not just fresh-out-of-the-academy scared, but down-tohis-core terrified. He might die tonight. Omarosa all but said she wasn't coming back. So he had to make a choice: to go on being scared (in which case he needed to be off the streets or quit); or to get over his fear (in which case he needed to get out of his car and risk getting his ass handed to him).
Lee picked up the radio. He wanted every available unit.
Like bundled packages, King, Percy, Lady G, and Lott were brought to the center of the Camlann site and deposited.
"You can give me that thousand-yard all day, King. I ain't afraid of nobody's stare. You may want to look around. These boys here, my crew, would just as soon shoot you if you looked at them funny."
"Nakia, you okay, baby?"
"She's fine, King. Just insurance."
"Hiding behind a little girl? That how your crew does it? A bunch of badasses against a little girl."
"You're going to want to keep a civil tongue, King. Or else I'll hand her over to a very special babysitter. You've heard of his handiwork with Lyonessa."
Noles stepped forward, his hair flat on his head and cut with a severity along his forehead. His face meticulously clean-shaven except for the razorthin goatee around his mouth and the growth of a beard only over his Adam's apple. A dress shirt hung loose on his frame, making him appear skinnier than he was. Only one half of his shirt was tucked into jeans. His eyes studied her in that way. They roamed and lingered.
Noles ran his large hand across the front of her pants while holding her firmly. She screamed, scared and confused, not understanding anything that was happening to her. Noles cried out in imitation of her, a mad howl in a falsetto voice. And laughed.
"Don't do this. It's me you want."
King was powerless to protect his princess. He pulled and jerked with all of his strength but was held firm. Fingers gripped tighter into his arms, nails driving into him. Jolts of fresh pain as they punched him in the side for struggling.
"Daddy!" Nakia screamed, her wide eyes pleading.
King begged for the strength to free himself, to help his little girl. His mind raced for any plan, mad or ingenious. Tears blazed hot trails down his face, his vision blurring. He slumped in his shackles, deflating. Beaten.
"That's enough, Noles. I just wanted King's mind focused so we could have a little chat."
"You know what your problem is?" Dred lowered on his haunches to get level with King. "You give a fuck when no one's paying you to give a fuck. You speak of peace. We aren't men of peace. Neither of us. Don't delude yourself. You earn peace at the point of a gat every bit the same way I do. You want to hit me, go ahead." Dred waved King's Caliburn in front of him. He reached into his dip to retrieve another. He held them both up, allowing the light to reflect from them. "A matching set. The way they were meant to be. You settle conflict the same way I do, except with hypocrisy. You think you're different. You try to be nice, normal. But there's a part of you that will never be that guy. Look at you. You're a facade. Your whole look is designed for everyone else. 'Look, but don't touch. Don't approach. Don't get close.' Like me. So desperate for folks to love you, yet so incapable of feeling love. You are easier to manipulate. You see yourself as their leader. Their pastor. Their shepherd. But at your core, you're still the insecure little boy you always were. Not sure of yourself. Not sure of your decisions. You're weak and that weakness can be exploited."
King's eyes bugged like disjointed marbles. His fists clenched. His chest high as his whole body shook with rage. With a snarl King turned and spat at Dred's feet.
"This is what I wanted," Dred said. "My birthright. The two reunited, the way Luther used to have them. A pair, never meant to be separated."
"Like us?" King asked. "You want me to join you?"
"We both know that would never happen. I'll make this simpler for you. All you have to do is give up and leave. You see, Indianapolis is all I know. Like you, I was born and raised here. These streets pump through my veins. So I can't leave. Nor do I really expect you to. "
King's chest tightened and his body trembled. Fear welled up in the back of his throat, and it had a coppery aftertaste. Grabbed by the forearm, shadow tendrils dragged him to the center of the room. He peered into the creatures' night eyes. He imagined his end might come like this. Surrounded by thugs, some armed with chains or bats or knives but mostly guns. He knew that to take a stand against them might end with his death. Execution.
"The storm is passing," he muttered. The rain fell lightly upon his shadowy form, as if attempting to cleanse him of the darkness of the night. He marveled at how far he had come, how much he'd learned in so short a time. Dred strode with determination and power. The Egbo Society controlled the gangs, the drugs, the money in Indianapolis, served at the pleasure of the Board of Directors and they to the Hierarchy. Not content to remain a lieutenant or a captain, Dred vied to get to the Board. For as long as he could remember, his ambition drove him to get the power and reign as the supreme power in the Egbo Society. Already he was one of the Ndibu, the high order of the Egbo Society. Soon he would have it all. Hands skeletal and gnarled, he uttered an incantation, a low whisper. Shadows danced about like ghostly dark flames. They lit along his body, wisps of black fire. He writhed in pain.