Peter Clines - Ex-Communication

Freedom dropped a dead man with a wide backhand, then grabbed a dead woman by the head and twisted her neck before she could react. “Just keep moving,” he said. An ex grabbed his arm and bit down, but the Kevlar weave of his jacket stopped it from breaking the skin. He slammed his fist into its forehead and it fell to the ground. “If we stop they’ll overwhelm us.”

Madelyn put her hands on an ex’s chest and tried not to think about the fact she was touching the dead woman’s boobs. She pushed hard, knocking the ex back into another one behind it, and then catching a third in the shoulder. The zombies dominoed, five of them crashing to the ground.

Zzzap made another pass and heads vanished off a dozen exes. One of the skulls popped like an overboiled egg. Their bodies dropped.

The far fence of the country club came into view. A hundred yards to go. The heroes smashed, tripped, kicked, and punched their way across the last stretch.

They reached the fence and Stealth vaulted up and over it. Three quick swings with her batons put down the trio of exes gathered on the other side. A few more leaps took her to the roof of a nearby house.

Freedom lifted Madelyn up by the arms, put one hand on her ass, and hurled her over the fence. She flew through the air and landed on top of the house near Stealth. The cloaked woman grabbed her by the wrist. A moment later Freedom hit the roof next to them. The tiles shattered and they heard a beam crack beneath him.

The shadows shifted and Zzzap hovered above them. Okay , he said, now for the hard part .

ANOTHER RUMBLE OFthunder echoed across the city as Max finished his circle and stepped back. “This should do it,” he said. He glanced over his shoulder. “Sorry, George. Time for you to go.”

Cairax Murrain turned to them. A pile of dismembered exes had grown near the demon. The heads still shifted and twitched. Their lack of leverage muffled the click-click-click of their jaws. “At last,” it said. “Claim your prize, dearest Maxwell, and then both sides of our contract have been fulfilled.”

Smoke poured from St. George’s mouth and nostril. The tattoos were tingling under his shirt. It felt like they were moving. “You don’t want to do this, Max,” he said. “I know you’re better than this.”

“Sorry,” the sorcerer said. “I guess you don’t know me.”

St. George scowled and sucked in a little more air.

Max shook his head. “Don’t waste your time. It still won’t do anything.”

“It’ll make me feel better.”

“If I cared how you felt, I wouldn’t be trading your soul to a demon. But, if it helps, your body will change just like this one did. I won’t be tricking anyone into thinking I’m you or any of that sort of—”

A shot rang out and the air blurred by Max’s head. Something appeared near his temple, a small lump of gleaming metal. Two more reports echoed across the street. St. George could see the trails as the rounds slowed down and came to a halt.

Max turned and plucked one of the bullets out of the air. “Well,” he said, tossing it aside, “I guess the cavalry’s shown up after all.”

Stealth leaped off the pet store, her cloak billowing out behind her. A Glock thundered in each hand and half a dozen rounds traced their way to Max. She hit the ground running, and another six rounds led the way.

The sorcerer held up three fingers and the bullets dropped to the pavement.

Cairax Murrain stretched up to its full height and stepped forward. “Ahhh, how truly wonderful,” the demon said, “the star-crossed lovers, reunited for the end. George Bailey, trying to live up to the impossible example of his parents, and Karen Quilt, desperately running away from the legacy of hers.”

Stealth froze, just for a moment, and Cairax beamed its shark’s smile at her. It pulled back a massive talon to swat the cloaked woman and a brilliant light from above washed the darkness away. The demon looked up and blinked its leathery eyelids.

Zzzap had one hand out. The air rippled around his brilliant palm for a moment and then a burst of energy struck Cairax in the face. It splashed off the monster like the spray from a garden hose. The demon roared and swung at the gleaming wraith. Zzzap flitted away and fired another energy blast.

Stealth raced past them and dove at Max. The sorcerer cut his hand through the air and a tornado blast of wind sent her hurling away. She hit the pavement near the line of exes, rolled, and threw herself back at him.

Max brought his hand up again, but before he could gesture the Glock spun in her fingers and smashed down on his knuckles. He yelped, stepped back, and Stealth drove both of her boots into his chest. She flipped over in a whirl of cloak and Max flew back to crash against a Honda.

Stealth looked up at St. George. “Are you unharmed?”

He nodded. “I might be two inches taller, but other than that, yeah.”

She holstered one of the pistols and a black-steel blade appeared in her hand. It lashed out twice, but the red cords binding St. George resisted. Her face shifted beneath her mask and she brought the knife down hard on the line.

“I think they’re magic,” he said.

Stealth turned with her pistol out and fired two shots at Max. The bullets clattered to the ground between them. The sorcerer slashed his hand up and the cloaked woman was hurled into the air.

St. George breathed out more flames, but Max waded through them. “Don’t get your hopes up,” he said. “I told you, there’s only one way this can end.” He pushed his sleeves back up and yanked open his shirt. The tattoos on his chest and arms were blurred, as if they were trembling on his skin.

He marched after Stealth.

Zzzap dodged another claw and hit Cairax with two more blasts. A nearby car caught fire, but the demon’s skin just steamed like a wet sidewalk on a hot day. Getting hit with enough raw energy to superheat steel didn’t seem to be slowing the thing down at all.

It was time to try something drastic.

Zzzap steeled himself for the wave of nausea that always came when he touched solid matter in his energy form. He dipped a little lower in the air. Cairax Murrain’s talons lashed out and ripped through his side.

The claws passed through Zzzap and left the gleaming wraith shuddering in the air. It wasn’t just the churning stomach he usually felt. It hurt. A lot. He let out a cry like a hiss of steam and static. The pain left him dizzy and lightheaded and cold. Guts open to the air cold, if he had to guess. He glanced down at his hands and saw his fingers blur into a thick shape at the end of his arm.

The demon raised its talons. The skin was charred and smoking, but the fingers flexed without effort. They filled out and healed as it studied them. “Not accustomed to being touched, are you, crippled one?”

Its tail sliced up through the air.

Zzzap dodged the tail and pushed himself higher into the air, out of the demon’s reach. His head spun. He focused on his hands and tried to get his fingers to re-form.

Cairax reached over and picked up a dust-covered motorcycle. It could’ve been a toy. The demon swung its arm back and whipped the bike up at Zzzap.

He spun in the air and dodged it, but Cairax had already grabbed an oversized pickup truck. The vehicle went up over the monster’s head with a squeal of metal and rust. Zzzap thought about blasting the truck, but he was still fuzzy.

Captain Freedom landed between them. His boots rang out against the pavement and kicked up a cloud of dust. His arm swung up and leveled his monstrous sidearm at Cairax.