Shaman Winter by Rudolfo Anaya

Author:Rudolfo Anaya
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781504011839
Publisher: Open Road Media

14

Sonny reached for the needle dangling in his neck. He tore it away and tossed it at Raven, who had leaped to his feet.

“It’s too late, Baca!” Raven shouted. “Too late.”

Sonny rubbed the back of his neck where the needle had entered. Already he could feel the drug oozing into his nerves and bloodstream. Raven had picked something that would put him to sleep slowly, not a morphine knockout punch.

“Kill him!” Chernenko shouted, leaping forward and holding a curved sword.

Raven snatched the weapon and stood over Sonny. One blow could slice a man in half. Sonny had seen the effects of the sharp dark steel on the Los Alamos guards.

“No,” Raven said mockingly. “I want him to dream.”

Outside a shot cracked in the cold air, followed by another in rapid succession. Raven cocked an ear. “Ah, your friends have arrived.”

“Police!” Chernenko cried in fear.

“Yes, Baca’s friends.”

“You knew,” Chernenko said, fear mixing with surprise. “You knew they were coming.”

“They’ve been watching you,” Raven gloated.

Again the shots rang out, an automatic weapon, then silence.

“Our guards are dead,” Raven said.

“The tunnel!” Chernenko shouted, pointing.

“Yes,” Raven agreed. “But first let me pay you for your work, Doctor,” he said, and raised the Saracen blade.

“No!” Chernenko cried as he crossed his arms to ward off the blow, but it came so quickly he could not fend it off. The scythe caught him just below the chin at the Adam’s apple, cut open his throat, and sliced downward to split his chest, cutting through the sternum and stomach. A startled Chernenko reached down to hold in his guts, as if by stuffing them back into the cavity, he could ward off death. Blood spurted; he uttered a curse and fell.

“Consider yourself well paid,” Raven whispered, and turned to Sonny. “Your friends are earlier than I expected,” he said, “but it doesn’t matter. We will meet shortly, in your next nightmare.”

Through the numbness already spreading through his body, Sonny saw him disappear into the floor. A trapdoor, he thought, probably leading to a sewer. Raven always planned his escape routes well.

Sonny struggled to sit up, rubbing at his neck. The shooting outside had stopped; now he heard banging at the door. Three blows and the door splintered and in rushed Matt Paiz and four SWAT agents.

Never thought I’d be happy to see the FBI, Sonny thought with a smile. Just like the movies.

“You okay?” Paiz asked, leaning over Sonny, pistol raised and eyes searching the lab.

The other agents, pistols drawn, spread across the room. One pointed at the Gadget, the bomb, and swore as he slowly circled it.

“Shot,” Sonny mumbled, holding the back of his neck.

Paiz looked, and finding no blood, he couldn’t understand what Sonny meant by shot. “Raven?”

“Yes.”

“He used the tunnel,” Paiz said, looking at the opening in the floor.

Sonny nodded.

“In there!” he shouted, and two SWAT men disappeared into the tunnel. “Any way to cut off the tunnel?” Paiz shouted at the man in jeans and a blue parka standing at the door.

The man turned and shouted something to the SWAT leader, and he ran out, followed by the FBI agents.

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