Suzanne Johnson - Elysian Fields

I held the staff to the side so I could shoot around Rene, and stilled when the Axeman walked past, just outside our hiding spot. Rene had his gun cocked and aimed at the opening. The Axeman stopped, and through the narrow slit, I saw his gaze roaming the park grounds where he’d last seen us. I held my breath. He turned to the left, then right, then looked directly at us.

I didn’t see him move. Suddenly, he was just there, ripping the metal door off its hinges and reaching inside, his fingers clutching for me over Rene—until the pistol fired again. The Axeman fell back, clutching his thigh.

Rene pulled me out of the machinery room. “Let’s go.” We ran about ten yards before I turned and fired the staff.

The Axeman had sat up and was staring at his leg wound, but managed to roll out of the way of my shot, falling between the seats that hung by heavy chains from the carousel’s top. An unholy screeching and explosion of smoke poured from the room where we’d been hiding, and the carousel creaked to life. I’d missed the Axeman but hit the flying chairs carousel. A warbling, tinny version of a jazzy old Louis Armstrong tune—I think it was “Basin Street Blues”—blasted from speakers at the top of the structure, and the carousel began to turn, the hanging chairs swaying around the Axeman as he stood up and stared at the ride, transfixed.

It was the music. That stuff about the jazz had been true.

Why hadn’t I put some of those downloads on my phone? This was my chance, so I took careful aim and fired again.

He turned just as the flames reached him, but howled in pain as they glanced off his arm. Most of the fire went into the carousel, but smoke rose from the sleeve of his coat. This time, the carousel ground to a stop and so did the music.

Rene and I ran again. At the pirate ship, I risked a look back. Shit. Who knew a guy that big could move so fast? He was halfway between us and the carousel, and gaining ground—

until he took an abrupt left turn. Where had he gone? As soon as we raced around the corner toward the Pathfinder, I had my answer. The Axeman had circled around us and now faced us from the other side. He was no mindless zombie; he’d positioned himself between us and the SUV. “Who the hell sent you? Why are you after me?” I kept the staff raised and pointed, backing away from him. In my peripheral vision, I saw Rene backing off at a different angle, his gun drawn. I should just zap him, but I wanted an answer to my questions.

The Axeman stopped, his dark, slicked-down hair not moving despite the breeze. His lips parted, his voice a hoarse whisper. “I don’t know why, only that you have to be taken care of before the other wizard will let me go on with my real work.” “Who’s controlling you—what does he look like?” I took a step back and aimed the staff. If old Axel wasn’t going to be more helpful than this, I might as well fire.

Just as I sent another burst of energy into the staff, Rene fired another round and caught the Axeman in the shoulder with a bullet, dropping him to the ground. My thick, fiery rope went over his head.

An explosion behind the Axeman stopped all of us, and I stared in horror as one of my SUV’s side mirrors landed in the dirt near the killer’s feet. The rest of the Pathfinder had burst into flames.

I raised the staff again, but the Axeman was already climbing to his feet—could nothing stop this guy? “Draw him toward the tunnel and I’ll get behind him,” Rene shouted, so I ran, slipping into the first darkened storefront of the midway, one I’d seen earlier while looking for a hydromancy spot. The back wall of the building had a big hole in it, and the haunted tunnel lay adjacent.

I tripped over something in the gloom of the store, and fell to my knees. My hands landed on fur. Fur that squealed and ran across my fingers before moving farther into the shadows. Oh- my-God-rat. I’d landed on a freaking rat.

“Where are you, wizard?” The Axeman’s voice rasped near the entrance, and the blade of his ax cracked through what was left of the wooden doorframe. I fumbled in my makeshift potions belt and pulled out one of my fire charms. So far I hadn’t been close enough to the Axeman to use one of my premade concoctions, but that was about to change.

I scrambled to the back wall and propelled myself through the hole in the concrete structure, landing in the weeds behind the building. The staff rolled out of my hand, and I rolled after it, the whistle of air from the ax blade following me, along with chips of concrete. Through the opening, I tossed the open vial containing the charm, and heard a bellow of pain in response.

Good. Something we were doing had to slow the guy down eventually. He had three bullet wounds and at least that many burns.

Yet I heard him shuffling again. Hoping I’d bought myself a few seconds, I ran perpendicular to the midway and headed for the Krewe of Kreeps train ride and its tunnel entrance. I picked up a fist-size chunk of concrete and waited at the mouth of the tunnel until I was sure he’d climbed out of the concrete building and spotted me.

Stepping inside, I pressed my back against the wall to the right of the door and waited. If I could trap him inside the tunnel, I might be able to collapse it on top of him with the staff. His footsteps slowed as they got closer, then he stopped outside the entrance, probably no more than three or four feet away. His labored breath sounded ridiculously loud. I pressed my back against the interior wall, not daring to breathe. Finally, I heard him again. He walked inside the tunnel a few feet to my left and stopped.

Moving slowly, lest even a rustle of fabric give me away, I tossed the concrete chunk as far ahead as I could. When it hit a train rail with a clatter, the Axeman took off, running deeper into the tunnel. This was my chance. I slipped out behind him and stopped a few feet from the tunnel entrance, aiming the staff at the top.

My shot hit true, but the structure of the tunnel was metal and not wood, so all I got was a rain of concrete and rebar before I heard the Axeman scream in rage, followed by the thud of his footsteps growing louder as he returned to the entrance. Where the hell was Rene? With no answer to that question, I couldn’t strategize. I had to run. And the Axeman ran faster than me. Simple as that. I’d have to shoot him close-range with the staff. I stopped and turned, aiming Charlie and waiting for him to get within a few feet.

Rene almost beat me to it. The Axeman had gotten almost within grabbing range when I hit the side of his jaw with fire from the staff and Rene caught the other side of his face with a bullet. The left side of Rene’s face was covered in blood. Now, so was the Axeman’s.

The killer fell toward me, his eyes wide and empty, and I threw myself to the side to keep him from landing on me. In stead, I fell on the staff. Charlie broke with a sickening crack. But at least for now, the Axeman was fading back into the Beyond. I shifted to look back at the entrance to Six Flags and wasn’t surprised to see the dark sedan had disappeared, probably with the necromancer inside.

Rene collapsed on the ground next to me, staring at the now-empty spot where the Axeman had fallen. “That was intense, babe.”

I sat cross-legged on the ground near the carousel, assessing Charlie’s condition. It wasn’t a complete break, but enough to make it fragile, not to mention crooked.

“Put some duct tape on it,” Rene said, looking over my shoulder. “It fixes anything.”

“It’s worth a try.” I’d spent some time experimenting and found it still channeled energy, but the fire was weak and had a range of less than two feet. I’d prefer any would-be murderers didn’t get that close.