ESCAPE VELOCITY :: Web of Deception

Finally! Sorry for the delay, everybody. You can read the story from the beginning here...

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Chapter 9 - The One Where Mike Grows Some Balls.

The corpse breathed out its answer like a cold wind... “beeeeeetseeeee.”

“Now now... even in this state, I can tell you're not a Betsy.” She waved the torch closer. “Try again.”

“beeeetttsseeeeee.”

“Fine. We'll do it the hard way.”

Callie grazed the blue flame over the zombie's arm. To her surprise, the arm instantly caught fire and the blaze spread up to the desiccated torso.

“BEEEETTTSSEEEEEEE...”

Rudy's body burned like flash paper. The dust left on Main Street began drifting gently in the wind.

Well, that didn't go as planned, thought Callie.

As she stood up, she noticed Tom Dufay coming out of his shop across the street, looking for all the world like he'd lost his puppy. She waved to him and a grin spread across his face like a used car salesman. He started walking towards her.

“Good evening, Mr. Dufay.”

“And to you, Mrs. Hodges. What brings you to town so late? And why...”

The smile evaporated from his face like breath on a straight razor. He'd caught the lingering scent of scorched flesh and noticed the grey dust swirling up from the road. Too late, Callie scrambled for the cape over her shoulder.

Tom threw something black and stringy at her face.

WEB! she thought as it struck her and her body went stiff. She fell back on the pavement as Tom's shadow crept over her.

“Tsk tsk, Mrs. Hodges. Arson is a serious crime. And now that you've destroyed one of my best servants, you have some making up to do.”

He hoisted her over his shoulder and began to walk back towards his shop. Bad back my ass, she thought, futilely willing her body to move.

Mike soared over the farm house, looking down over the adjacent forest with crystal vision. He caught a rustle at the mouth of a small cave and dove for the entrance. Just as he passed into the darkness, a brilliant golden light erupted in his eyes. He found himself floating in the presence of the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. And yet somehow his only thought was of Callie.

“You must find her, Michael.”

He heard a distant roar and a wind like the beating of vast wings. He saw a cackling man holding a stone, and then his face falling as he placed the stone on a rain-soaked deerskin and slowly backed away.

“Together you must save the egg.”

Withered faces came at him in the darkness and he swatted them away. Stringy blackness tried to grab him but slipped off his skin. Hollow thunder rang in his ears.

“You know where to find her.”

He saw his own hands reaching for front door. He was halfway out when he saw Tom Dufay bolting up the old farmhouse driveway. And he did not look happy. He watched Tom's face crinkle and crack like paper. A cat hissed and spat in his ears.

“If the little one finishes, all is lost.”

He felt his skin burn like fire. Light burst forth from his new scars. He felt like he would break apart into a million pieces like some human jigsaw puzzle.

Mike bolted upright in bed, cracking his head on a poorly placed shelf. Yet again, his eyes rolled up and he fell back unconscious.

Tom opened the passenger door to his truck and dropped Callie's stiffened body on the cracked vinyl with a thud. He spoke as if this were the most casual event in the world while he shifted her body into a seated position.

“Handy stuff, this web. As I think you've noticed. Tough to make, though. It has to be slowly extracted from human souls. A tedious process, but one with the convenient side-effect of turning over the body's will.”

Tom strolled around to the driver's side and got in.

“Still, we finally almost have enough to finish the new sack. Loki will be most grateful that he'll be able to handle the egg safely at last.”

A grey cat leapt through the window from the truck's bed and perched on the dashboard.

JC!Thought Callie. Could he get her out?

“Hola, padre,” said the cat.

“What took you so long?” replied Tom.

Damn!

“Ah, I had to listen to that bitch whine about the fading planet again. I will be so glad when this assignment is done. Two hundred years as el gato!? The Trickster asks too much sometimes.”

“Only a short while more, mi hijo. With this one and that muscle-headed husband of hers, we should finally be able to draw enough for the dwarf to finish his knitting.”

The cat hissed in response, “Feh... I don't care if he IS related to Rumplestilt... he works too slowly!”

Tom chuckled. “This isn't spinning straw, JC. The pattern must be precise or our master's will cannot contain the egg.”

“Yeah yeah. Let's get her up there.”

Tom turned the key and the truck sputtered to life. Callie stared helplessly out the window while they drove her up to the cave.

Mike blinked. His head felt like it was in a vice. He rolled his feet out of bed and sat up, every nerve in protest. He staggered to the kitchen and poured a glass of water.

Where's Callie?

Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted his shotgun leaning against the far wall. Ah, there it is. Where are those damnable cats, then?

He grabbed the gun and headed out to the front patio. He was halfway out the door when he saw Tom Dufay bolting up the old farmhouse driveway. And he did not look happy.

“Deja vu!”

“What?” asked Tom.

“I said I just had deja vu!”

“Ohh... look, Mike... something's happened to Callie. You need to come with me.”

Mike blinked again. “What happened?”

“I'll explain on the way.”

As they walked to the truck, Mike heard his instructor from the Agency in his head – the bearer of bad news is most often the cause of it. He got in the passenger side door, his head still a blur, the shotgun still cradled in his hands.

As Tom opened the door on the driver's side, he noticed what Mike was carrying.

“Uhhh... Mike... why are you carrying a shotgun? I need to take you to Callie. I don't think you'll need the gun.”

Mike looked at Tom, and he remembered his face peeling away in a dream. Memory flooded back. Save Callie. Protect the egg. Stop the little one. And he remembered why he didn't like Dufay.

Tom's eyes grew wide as saucers as Mike pressed the barrel of the shotgun against his ribs.

“You didn't run into my father in any library.”

He pulled the trigger and sent Dufay's body flying backwards into the trees, nearly split in two.

“My father can't read.”

Mike slid to the driver's seat and started the truck as he heard a hissing behind him. JC pounced from the bed of the truck, sailing through the open window as Mike deftly slammed it closed. The cat was caught squarely in the center.

“HSSSSSSSSSSSSS!!!!! You'll never find her!!!”

“On the contrary, you mangy furball. I already remember where to find her.”

He stepped hard on the gas, and spun the truck around the driveway.

Ten minutes later Mike found himself parked outside the mouth of the cave. JC continued to hiss and spit and desperately tried to claw his way free of the window. Mike hopped out and started towards the cave, then paused to look back into the truck to see if there might be anything else useful.

He hefted an axe out of the back of the old pickup.

Yeah, this will do nicely, he thought as he trudged to the cave with the shotgun cocked over his shoulder.

The cave smelled like mouldy cheese. He heard a faint rustling inside as he stepped further into the darkness, pausing for his eyes to adjust. Skittering feet and a soft clicking of metal echoed off the cave walls.

Mike shouted into the black, “I don't know who's in here, but I'm looking for my wife and I don't intend to let anything get in my way. I'd suggest you leave me to it!”

A soft wind blew against him in reply. He took a few more steps.

The decaying corpse of his Aunt Betsy reached out from the emptiness with a hollow stare. Mike's Agency training kicked into high gear and he didn't flinch a bit as he brought the blade of the axe down and split her skull in two. Her head disappeared in a puff of dust.

Fixing his determination, he kept walking.

“CALLIE!??! Where are you!??”

Mary and Penelope Townley staggered towards him, arms outstretched, eyes only empty sockets.

chk chk... BOOM! Penelope torso vanished. Mike swung the axe up from his hip and sliced Mary neatly in half.

“CALLIE!??! Baby, there are zombies in here!”

He continued his march.

Joe Tyler grabbed at him from behind, but the parched hands only slid off as Mike spun the barrel of the gun around and knocked the vacant head off the zombie's neck.

“CALLIE!??! I'm having a hard time not freaking out about this! We never had zombies back in the city!”

Sam Tyler reach up from the cave floor and clawed at Mike's ankles. He brought the axe down and lopped the arms off.

Then he spotted Callie covered in black string, stuck up against the wall of the cave. Her eyes looked at him in shock and pleading, but her mouth was completely covered by the coarse threads. She felt the wind of the blade against her ear as Mike easily swung the axe and sliced the web away from her mouth.

“Schmoopie????”

More corpses wandered out of the darkness.

chk chk... BOOM! “Yeah, it's me baby.” chk chk... BOOM! “And would you please...” chk chk... BOOM! “stop...” chk chk... BOOM! “calling me that?”

Mike scraped the rest of the string from the wall and helped Callie down. She looked at him like he was a stranger, then grabbed the back of his hair and planted her mouth against his. As she kissed him, she saw yet another zombie closing behind him and she started to scream.

Without moving his lips from hers, Mike flipped the barrel back over his shoulder. BOOM! The creature collapsed against the floor. She tore herself away and stared up at his widening smile.

“Who ARE you!??!?”

Before he could answer, JC leaped from the cave floor and tore at Callie's pocket. Freya's vial of gold fell to the cave and smashed open. The cat jumped down into the spilling fluid and started lapping it up. Then jumped back into the darkness, howling.

Mike's eyes scanned for movement, when suddenly the gun was torn from his hands. A thin man with shoulder-length grey hair stepped forward.

“Hello,” he said, sliding the sword at his hip from it's scabbard, eyes fixed on Mike's face, “I am the Hidalgo Juan Carlos Andre Sebastian Dufé.”

“You killed my father.” He leveled the sword tip at Mike's face. “Prepare to die.”

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Next up I think we should hear from Franziska Tanner, who should grace her portion of the tale with word "sophomoric."