In Shining Armor: Pax Arcana: Book 4 by Elliott James

Author:Elliott James
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction / Action & Adventure, Fiction / Fantasy / Contemporary, Fiction / Fantasy / Paranormal, Fiction / Fantasy / Urban
Publisher: Orbit
Published: 2016-04-25T16:00:00+00:00

25

SEE JOHN RUN

Dammit, John, hurry up!” The metal head on Sig’s axe had finally flown off the handle—oh… that’s where that expression comes from—and Sig was using the wood haft to shove draugar back down as they tried to climb up through an open access panel. I think we were in some of those underground air tunnels from the old-fashioned heating systems that used to run beneath every house in areas several blocks long, but I’m not really sure. I’m not even sure how we got there. I’d only had the flickering light from a jostling kerosene lamp to see by while hungry nightmare sounds from behind drove me after the gorgon’s scent. We had scrambled through drainage pipes which led to some kind of pumping station which led to a grate which led to a duct which led to an access panel which led to these cramped tunnels. It was hard not to blank out and just start running mindlessly, but we were still managing. The narrow opening had seemed like another good choke point for Sig to defend while I tried something.

There was no way we were going to lead a horde of undead into Boston proper, where they could run wild, so Sig and I had been fighting a battle of attrition, trying to string the draugar out and destroying them one or two at a time from defensible positions, hoping to whittle their numbers down to something manageable. A lamentable result was that the stopping and starting had let a horde bunch up and gather behind us. I kicked the hilt of my machete where it was lying on the ground and sent the weapon hissing over the tunnel’s galvanized steel surface toward Sig. “Take this and shut up. I need to pray.”

“Nice”—Sig paused and grunted as she kicked out and literally tore a draugr’s head off, sending the face rolling down the tunnel with rotten teeth still gnashing. It gave her time to grab the machete, though—“spiritual attitude.”

We had found some ripped-out chicken wire back in the duct—I’m not sure what it had originally been meant to filter or keep out—maybe bats—and I was using it to tie two metal pipes together into a crude cross. Again, I have no interest in being a sales representative for any kind of ism or ity, and I’m nowhere near as effective as someone like Molly Newman, who probably could have made a symbol that would have blasted the draugar apart, but I can make undead turn away. I sincerely believe a higher power exists, and I sincerely believe that things like draugar aren’t part of its plan, and I sincerely believe that said higher power is willing to use me to do something about it. Fortunately, there aren’t any holy books that actually say you can’t drop f-bombs or use slang terms for excrement—I checked. That’s stuff humans just made up to give other humans a hard time.

“Hello, God?” I said. “It’s me. Margaret. No, just kidding.”

“John!” Sig bellowed.

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