The Kill Society (Sandman Slim)(36)

The dog pack falls back behind a line of cop cars that are loaded with weapons and ammo. I reload while the car crew hands out more guns.

The firefight goes on for several minutes without either side getting much advantage. Every now and then I see a member of the havoc go down. But for a bunch of arrogant assholes who ended up on the wrong end of an ambush, we’re doing pretty well.

A couple of minutes later it stops going well.

The vehicles in the garage pull out and center themselves in front of the motel. There are five of them in all. Spidery vehicles with heavy guns mounted on the top and sides.

The first wave of fire rips through the front line of the havoc, sending glass, metal, and the occasional arm or leg into the air. A second wave tears into the trucks and other tall vehicles. We fire back, but nothing we have is going to get through the armor on the AAVs.

I look around until I find the havoc’s huge, horned APC. Crouching low to keep my head situated on my shoulders, I scuttle back to it. I only get a few steps when someone jumps on my back and presses a knife to my throat.

“Are you fucking running?” says Daja. “Tell me you’re running.”

I point at the APC.

“We have to get it up front. Nothing else can take the fire.”

Daja stays on my back for a few more seconds contemplating the removal of my head. Then she rolls off.

I say, “Do you want the Magistrate in one piece?”

“Fuck you. You know the answer.”

“We can’t run at these assholes straight on. We have to fox them.”

“How?”

“Make like we’re coming at them straight. Get the APC and as many running vehicles as we can and charge them. Fill the cars with gas. Set them on fire so they’re bombs.”

She shoves me.

“Shit for brains. You think that’s going to get past them?”

“No. We are.”

She looks at me like she might not stab me on principle. I keep going to make sure that keeps not happening.

“We get everyone concentrating up front. Then you and me go around the back and hope the Magistrate is still in the office. Then we just stroll in and take him.”

“That’s all?” she says like she’s getting ready to punch me again.

“More or less,” I say. “We get the Magistrate and kill as many of these fuckers as we can. Maybe with the other cars, the APC can punch through the line. I don’t know. But we have to get inside. We’ll figure out the rest as we go.”

“Why are you so willing to die for the Magistrate?” she says. “I see you looking at him. I know you don’t trust him.”

“I don’t trust you. I don’t trust anybody. But getting the Magistrate and killing those deserters inside isn’t what they’re looking for.”

“How are you such an expert all of a sudden?” she says.

“How much killing have you done down here? Don’t answer. I’ve done more and a lot of them were Legionnaires. People will tell you all kinds of secrets if they think it means they get to live a few seconds longer.”

Daja looks at the front of the line. The havoc is going down fast.

“Fuck,” she says. “All right. But if you run I’ll bring you back and the pack will peel your skin.”

“Charming. You’re a charming person,” I say. “No one’s going to listen to me, so you give the orders. I’ll be watching from the side of the motel. Be sure to get back to me before shit starts blowing up.”

It’s written all over her that she still doesn’t trust me, but without any ideas of her own, she gives in.

“Five minutes,” she says. “You better be there.”

“I’ve got to get some gear. I’ll see you over there.”

She takes off and I run back to the dog pack. They’re still holed up behind the cop cars, the only ones left that far up on the line. I grab Gisco and pull him close so he can hear me over the gunfire.

“You want to learn the na’at?”

He looks confused, then nods.

“Then give it to me.”

He pulls it from his bag and I snatch it away before he can change his mind.

“Keep watching the office door. We might need covering fire.”

“Where have you been?” yells Billy.

“With Daja. We’re going to do something really stupid.”

“Will it help?” says Lerajie.

“Probably not.”

Before it turns into a whole quiz show, I take off and move to the side of the havoc. Hunker down by an old woodie station wagon with scenes of Hellbeast orgies carved into the sides. Everyone has their fetishes, even down here. I wait five minutes. Then ten. The gunfire slows a bit, but only because we’re losing and the Legionnaires know it. Why waste ammo on idiots in vehicles that would be better off catching Abbott and Costello Meet Frankenstein at a drive-in?

Finally Daja dives down next to me. There’s an assault rifle slung over her shoulder. She’s a lot bloodier than when she left.

“You all right?”

“Fine,” she says. “Most of it isn’t mine.”

“You’re going to get messier. We’re not using guns. Too loud. It’s knives, lamps, staplers—anything but guns.”