Diego BelcourtCharlie Hendricks loomed in front of Steven and Veronica. All six feet and six inches of him. One eye was a milky pink, and the other, once as blue as his father's, was black and dead. His skin, once the color of creamy white, had turned the color of a mushroom, gray-white and blotched with fungus and decay. He snarled and took and lumbering step forward. It was grotesque. It was bad enough that Charlie had not fallen a thousand feet to smash himself to ruin at the base of the mountain. It was worse still that he had become one of the monsters he used to reanimate. What was far, far worse was that Charlie's own father and brother had brought him back, armored him like a gladiator, and put him down here in the shadows to be their pet monster. Their angel of death for a new and corrupt Eden. Steven understood few of the mysteries of any religion, he knew with perfect clarity that this was a sin that could never be forgiven.
Charlie Hendricks took a lumbering step toward them. Steven pushed Veronica back. "God..." Veronica's voice was small and fragile. Steven let out a bellow of fury and swung his hatchet, trying for a killing shot through the eye socket. Instead the glass blade dug into the front of Charlie's cheek, punching through the sinus. The other undead in the dead-end tunnel moaned with hunger, and shuffled forward, but Charlie's massive body blocked the way. With a feral growl Charlie lashed out and knocked Steven sideways into the wall. The glass blade of the hatchet snapped, and the handle fell from Steven's fingers. The blow was so fast and strong that for an insane moment, Steven wondered if Charlie was somehow still alive. It was impossible, though. No, this thing was dead. Still, it was fast, too fast, and powerful.
Steven slid to the floor. Charlie bent down, grabbed Steven's shirt and pulled him off the floor. Razor teeth glimmed like daggers in the torch light. As Charlie pulled him close, Steven could see the gleaming tips of the nails that covered the monster's body like a porcupine. Steven raised a knee and managed to get the flat of his shoe against the monster's lower stomach, the only area not covered by the nail vest. He kicked out, trying to squirm out of the grip with leverage, aiming blasts to dislocate the jaw or break the neck. He tried every trick and spell he had been taught. The nail heads scratched him, and soon Steven was bleeding from a dozen shallow cuts. Charlie's big head darted forward, and his razor teeth bit down with devastating force, but not on Steven's flesh.
Suddenly Veronica was there, squeezing in between Steven and the monster, and she rammed her hatchet up into its mouth. The rows of teeth chomped down on the weapon and crunched on glass and wood. Charlie flung Steven away and grabbed Veronica instead. Steven crashed to the ground again. Pain exploded in his shoulder, numbing him all the way to his fingertops. The others tried to reach past Charlie to get to Veronica. Wax-white hands poked through the crooks of Charlie's elbows and reached over his shoulders and around his sides, clawing at Veronica's shirt and hair. In their attempts to grab her, they were also pulling her into the nail vest. Steven saw the broken hatchet, dove for it, and came up with the splintered wood in his right hand. Veronica still had her hatchet buried into Charlie's mouth, and he was actually trying to chew his way through it to get to her. Steven rushed to Veronica and looped his bad left arm around her waist while he chopped and pounded at the white hands with the hatchet handle. He broke fingers and wrists and some of the white hands flopped away, now useless to their owners. One creature had a solid fistful of Veronica's hair, and Steven couldn't shatter its wrist, so he did the only other thing he could do. He used the remaining pieces of glass and sawed through her hair. She sagged forward, but Charlie still had her.
Steven rammed the sharp end of his hatchet handle under Charlie's chin. He drove it with such force that it punched through his mouth and pinned his jaws shut. At least for the moment. Veronica brought her knees up and aimed her feet just below the nail vest, then kicked out with all her force as Steven pulled with all his. They burst free from Charlie's grasp and fell backward. Steven hit the ground first and Veronica landed hard on top of him, driving most of the air from his lungs. For the moment, Charlie ignored them and clawed at the wooden spike that sealed his jaws shut. The others pushed forward to get past him. "Dust!" Steven croaked, and Veronica tore a pouch of plaster dust from her pocket and flung it at them. The dust exploded into a white cloud that swirled thickly around the creatures. Steven didn't know if the powder would do anything more than distract them for a moment. They had thought to use it against Digger and Heap, but for now it gave them a slender doorway of time. Veronica grabbed Steven's wrists and hauled him to his feet, slapped his shoulders to spin him and then shoved him forward, keeping her hands on his back as he stumbled away.
White Bear bent down into one of the pit openings, grinning like a ghoul. "Run as fast as you want, but there's no way out." Veronica pivoted and flung one of the pouches at him. White Bear got his hand up to block it, but the pouch flapped open and he was showered with white plaster dust. He reeled back, coughing, gagging and cursing. White Bear wheeled on Steven and Veronica with a murderous glare. They ran from under the pit opening, vanishing into the shadows. They heard more in front of them, and they realized they were running back to the main pit. They scrambled into a turn. Behind them Charlie Hendricks was shambling toward them, the spike of wood no longer pinning his jaws shut. That left the dark side tunnel. "No lights." Steven said. Veronica chewed her lip, looking up and down the corridor. The front of her shirt was dotted with drops of blood from where the tips of the nails had cut through her clothes and into her skin. Pain twisted in her mouth as she said, "No choice." They ran into the darkness.
Ol' Jack stood next to White Bear, both of them scowling down into the pits. "This is taking too long," said the old man.
"Kids are pretty good," replied White Bear. "I'm actually starting to enjoy this."
Ol' Jack snarled, "They should be dead by now."
"Lighten up dad...Charlie's got their number. Those kids are Happy Meals, you'll see."
Ol' Jack leaned closer still. "You listen to me boy, if they find that bell and we have to let them go then-"
White Bear laughed deep in his chest. "Dad, for a man of faith you could use some more for your own kin. I got everything under control and..." His words trickled down and stopped as he realized someone at the back of the hotel. Ol' Jack whipped his head around to see a figure standing on the porch. He had a long, red scarf that wrapped around his neck and slung over his back.
"Belcourt," murmured Ol' Jack, then he threw back his head and bellowed the name. It echoed all around the arena. "Belcourt!" Beside him, White Bear grinned like a happy ghoul. He stepped forward and pitched his voice. "Well, ain't this just a treat? Come to watch the fun and games, Diego?" He laughed, and the guards laughed with him.
"Why am I here?" answered Diego with a faint smile. He spoke loud enough for them to hear him. He held out a copy of his bounty sheet. "It's pretty clear that you wanted me here."
"That's true enough," answered Ol' Jack. "You and your pack of sinners."
"By that you mean my cousins, Steven and Veronica?"
"Sinners all." Ol' Jack nodded.
"Where are they, Hendricks?" Diego demanded.
"Oh," said Ol' Jack, not looking at the pits, "they're waiting for their chance at redemption."
Diego crumpled up the bounty sheet and dropped it off the porch into the dust. "This is between you and me. Leave them out of it."
The man spit on the ground. "This is between your family and mine. They killed my son. Don't pretend you don't understand that Diego Belcourt. It was your parents who made it about familes. You owe me a blood debt."
Diego ignored the jeering catcalls of the guards. He locked his eyes with Ol' Jack. "Charlie dealt the cards, Hendricks, don't you pretend he didn't. He ran around like everything was his personal kingdom, and he didn't care who got hurt as long as he got what he wanted. He was a parasite, a thief and a murderer."
"You don't dare-" began White Bear, but his father touched his arm. "Let the boy have his say. Then we'll see what justice wants from this moment." As he said it, he let his eyes flick towards the pits.
Diego walked toward the edge of the porch. "Years ago, Charlie and his thugs tried to raid Carlsbad. That was my home, my family's home. Everyone respected them, except Charlie. He never respected anyone or anything...but things didn't work out so well for him. My parents gave him and his men a chance to walk away. They didn't take it. Later, when it was just Charlie kneeling in the dirt begging for his life, they let him live because he swore to them, swore to god above, that he'd change his ways, that he wouldn't do that sort of thing again. That he wouldn't hurt people again. They let him live Hendricks. They showed him mercy, but as soon as he slunk away he started back up worse than ever."
"I've heard that story before," said Ol' Jack. "It was a lie then, and it's a lie now. No one ever beat Charlie in a fair fight."
Diego ignored that. "Two years ago, Charlie opened up a new Shadowland, and he went hunting for the one person who might tell where it was. You've heard of her. The Lost Girl. To find her, he broke into a family friend's home, and beat that woman to death. You know what happened next."
"Yes, I know. Your parents laid false charges on Charlie, then they went out and ambushed him in the woods and killed him when he wasn't looking."
"False charges? I know what happened. Charlie asked for what he got, and my only regret is that it wasn't from my own hand."
"Yes...that hell-spawn father of yours, that devil's imp, managed some trickster ambush and killed my firstborn son." Ol' Jack took a threatening step toward Diego. "You had your say, such as it was. Now hear me on this, Diego Belcourt. Your time is over. Your family's reign of corruption, bullying, terrorism and murder is done. I call a blood debt on you and yours, and like a farmer who burns a whole field to kill an encroaching blight, I will burn the name Belcourt from this world. Your sins against my family are uncountable, and so I curse you and yours for all generations. Anyone who stands with you falls with you. So say I and so say mine." Silence owned the moment except for the constant low moans of the dead strapped to the chairs under the giant circus tent.
Down in the pits, Steven whispered, "What's happening?"
"I don't know," said Veronica. "We have to let Diego know we're here!" Behind them the shadows were filled with hungry moans.
"Don't make a sound," Steven whispered. Calling out to Diego was a good plan, but not at the moment. Not unless Diego was right there to help them climb out, and from what Steven heard, that wasn't the case. If they called to him now, it might be a fatal distraction to Diego. Steven and Veronica felt their way along the walls of the tunnel. It was absolutely pitch black. Even the torchlight from the main corridor faded and died within a few yards. They fought to keep their breathing as silent as possible, listening for the scuff of a shuffling dead foot, or the soft moan of hunger. Except for the powder, they had to weapons left, aside from their magic, which wouldn't be a good idea currently, and Charlie was still out there along with fifteen monsters. Maybe more. Time was running out.
Diego Belcourt sighed. "I tried," he said, shaking his head. He lifted his hand and energy slowly started to course around it and him. All around the arena the guards, already alert, raised their weapons, edged forward and pointed guns at Diego's heart. He ignored them as he straightened his arm and
pointed his hand at Ol' Jack and White Bear. Light gleamed in his eyes and sparkled. "Hear me on this," Diego said, his voice clear and strong. "You've spoken your piece and you've laid your curse, Hendricks. Now hear mine. Not a curse...but a promise. I speak to everyone here, so listen to what I have to say. Walk away," he said. "Lay down your weapons, and walk away. Shadowland is closed. Walk away."
White Bear stared at him. "Says who?"
"Says the law."
"There is no law."
Diego's eyes were fixed on White Bear. "There is now."
Ol' Jack snorted. "You have no right. You have no power. The Hendricks clan is the only power, now and forever."
"Walk away," Diego said again. "Last chance. Everyone here gets a pass if you walk away. Except for Ol' Jack and White Bear. To use their words: If you stand with them, you fall with them. Walk away."
"You're a fool and a madman," declared White Bear. "You come here alone and make some kind of brainless grandstand play." He gestured to one of the guards, a beefy man. "Take that stupid amulet of his away and drag his ass over here." The guard racked the slide on his shotgun and grinned. "Absolutely, boss."
Diego raised his hand, pointing it at the approaching guard.
"Last chance," he said to the man.
"You're freaking crazy, Belcourt," said the guard.
"Your call." Diego dropped his arm and said "Bang."
There was a sharp
crack and the guard was plucked off the ground and flung backward. He landed on his back, gasping, eyes wide, blood pumping from a dime-size hole in the center of his chest. Diego blew across the tip of his finger as if he really shot the man. Ol' Jack and White Bear were frozen in place. "I warned you," Diego said, his smile gone now, his voice suddenly harsh and bitter. "You should have listened." And then the attack began.