As they sped down the hill through Bingham, the rain let up, and as the setting sun cut through the clouds, the trauma receded behind them. They were tired and dirty, but, for the moment at least, they were out of danger.
Will had called Cappy as soon as they got back in the Wagoneer, and when they got to the harbor, the Oleana was just chugging into the marina. It was a sight for sore eyes indeed.
“Ahoy!” Cappy shouted, a broad smile on his face. He waved at them like they owed him money, which Will figured they technically would after the return trip. The Oleana slid up to dock. Cappy threw a line to Rudy, who tied it off on a cleat on the piling.
“Did you find what you was lookin’ for?” asked Cappy.
“We sure did,” said Will. “Can you take us to the mainland, right now?”
“Soon as you get on me boat and stop yappin’, I can,” said Cappy.
Will helped Natalie aboard. When their hands touched, the old electricity sparked through them. Their eyes met and they smiled. There was so much to be said, but it could wait. For now they were content to just look at each other.
Cappy cast off, then swung the Oleana around and throttled the old boat to the hilt. The appearance of the sun had been, as usual in the Northwest, a mere flirtation. The skies darkened once again, and the wind blew hard and cold. Cappy had Cokes and chips, which he gave to Rudy, Emily, and Loreli. Up on the bow, Will held Natalie close.
“Will, I’m so sorry . . .”
“I know,” he said.
Natalie wanted to let all her feelings pour out. She wanted to tell Will that lying to him—even if it had been for his own good—had been the hardest thing she’d ever done. She wanted to tell him that she would never lie to him again. She had a thousand questions she wanted to ask him, the first being, of course, Do you still love me? She felt like he did, but she wouldn’t have blamed him if he didn’t, after her betrayal and dishonesty, not to mention the fact that she’d almost snuffed him from the face of the Earth. He’d been pretty clear about how he felt, but she still worried that things might have changed after all they’d been through. She shuddered just thinking about it. Will set the backpack holding the two crystal rods down and wrapped a blanket around Natalie. He held her tighter.
“There’s so much I have to say . . .,” she said. Her eyes found his again, but this time they weren’t as welcoming, because Will was distracted. Of course he wanted to give Natalie his full and absolute attention, but his seventh sense was kicking in.
“Hold on,” he said to her.
They were moving into a patch of dark, ugly fog, and Will sensed that something was very wrong. He saw a rat on the deck, watched it sniff the air, then leap overboard and swim for its life. Not a good sign.
Will thought about the crystal rods. As soon as he’d seen their fragments fusing together in the old cannery, he’d known the time would come when he would combine the two rods with his own Power Rod to form the Triad of Power. It was the most powerful weapon the world had ever known, and he knew he could try to use it to destroy the Dark Lord once and for all.
It occurred to him that the time to do all that was now.
He reached back to tap in the code on the Power Rod Retrieval Patch, then felt a sudden burning pain bursting in his right shoulder. He cried out in agony.
“I’m sorry, sonny boy,” said Cappy.
With one hand, the old guy was holding the handle of a harpoon, the lancing end of which was sticking out of Will’s shoulder. With his other hand, Cappy was holding the backpack that held the two crystal rods. Natalie saw the blood pouring out of Will’s arm and screamed.
Will looked over Cappy’s shoulder and saw Rudy, Emily, and Loreli entwined, trapped like flies in a bloody web of fleshy red filaments. All three were screaming, but their mouths were covered.
The water around the Oleana was going crazy, whitecaps churning, water swirling as a huge whirlpool began to spin the boat clockwise. One of Cappy’s eyes shifted from bloodshot to the stomach-turning liquid black of a demon. His head jerked left and right. He gurgled, then shouted.
“I tried to stop him!” yelled the old man.
Even through his pain, Will realized Cappy was at war with himself. Cappy’s left hand still held the backpack. With his right, he let go of the harpoon and dug into the Oleana’s utility box. He came up with a flare gun, which he put to his head. He was drenched in sweat and convulsing. Cappy’s body had been invaded by evil, but his good side was putting up a fight.
“He got me when I weren’t paying no attention!”
Cappy’s body twisted around grotesquely. There was the sound of bones cracking.
Natalie managed to yank the harpoon out of Will’s shoulder. Will wanted to reach up again to call down his Power Rod, but he was losing blood so quickly. He collapsed, watching the world spin around him. Cappy began laughing, but not with his own voice. It was the spine-chilling voice of the Dark Lord emanating from the old man’s mouth.
“Blind fool!” he said.
Natalie fumbled in one of Will’s jacket pockets, trying to find a healing patch. But she was yanked away by centrifugal force and slid across the deck as wave after huge wave pounded the Oleana. Gritting her teeth, she clawed her way back to Will and managed to rip a healing patch from his pocket. She opened it and pressed it to his wound.
“Stay with me, Will!”
Will nodded, wanting to. He tried to grab a weapon, but the pain shot through him like a bolt of lightning. He wasn’t going anywhere, not just yet. He knew he had to wait a few precious seconds as the patch did its job.
Cappy’s good half was still fighting. He pressed the flare gun harder to his head and cocked it. He looked at Will. For a moment his eyes were not the eyes of a demon, but those of a sad old man who knew his life was coming to an ugly end.
“Lord, forgive me,” he said.
He pulled the trigger. The flare gun detonated against his jaw, the potassium perchlorate and magnesium exploding, and his head became a fiery globe. Cappy’s last sound was a horrifying scream. The poor old man was trying to kill the devil inside him, but he had only succeeded in stripping the flesh from his body, allowing the Beast within to emerge. It was a grotesque sight, the Dark Lord expanding out through Cappy’s worn old body, the aged flesh falling away like a cheap Halloween costume. Will knew the Dark Lord had the ability to take over a human body like this, but he’d never witnessed it before. He wished he wasn’t seeing it now.
Like a hideous mutation of the legendary phoenix, the Dark Lord was rising from the flames, growing larger and more menacing every second. With his clawed hands, he tore open Will’s backpack and clasped the two crystal rods, his saffron eyes widening with delight as he eyed them lustily.
“Good work, my son! Excellent work!” He laughed. “You have an uncanny ability to locate what is missing.” Then his eyes narrowed. “The time is nigh. There are profound decisions to be—”
In a flash, Will pulled the Megashocker from its holster, leapt up, and thrust with it. The Dark Lord dodged, but the blow landed above his thigh. He bellowed in pain. Will threw a Flareblade that caught the Beast in the neck. The Dark Lord froze and locked eyes with his progeny.
“You never cease to amaze me, young Will Hunter.”
Moving insanely fast, he grabbed the harpoon, skewered Natalie, and flung her starboard into the Sound.
Will screamed, “No!”
Then the Dark Lord, crystal rods in hand, leapt off the port side of the boat.
“Make your choice, boy. Me or the girl!”
Will jumped in after Natalie. The Dark Lord laughed, then dove deep into the brackish water and disappeared.
Will’s shoulder was still bleeding, not yet fully healed, but nothing on Earth was going to keep him from saving the girl he loved; not the stormy sea, not the searing pain, not the Devil himself. Swimming with just one functioning arm, he found Natalie in the dark depths. She clung to him as he kicked them both to the surface, where they floated, gasping for air. Natalie was losing consciousness. Will kicked hard to the boat and fought through the debilitating pain to hoist her onto the deck.
He climbed up and immediately applied a healing patch to her wound, which wasn’t mortal, but the water was cold and she was trembling violently. Will covered her with a blanket, then cut Rudy, Loreli, and Emily free from their heinous bonds. Emily rushed to Natalie and lay down beside her to share her body heat. Will started to do the same, but Loreli stopped him. She was on the verge of tears.
“I’m sorry, Will, it all happened so fast! I’m so sorry, I—”
Rudy chimed in, “We would have stopped him if we could, Will—”
Exhausted, freezing, and in terrible pain, Will sagged against a railing. “Cut yourself some slack, you guys,” he said. “It was the Devil. And we’re all okay.”
Loreli was shaking her head. “Yeah, but I should have—”
Will held a finger to his lips. “Shhhhh . . .”
They listened. And heard, in the distance, the sound of beastly, demonic laughter.
Loreli took the wheel of the Oleana and navigated the old boat out of the storm. Once in calmer waters, they made for the mainland.
When they docked at Beech Bay, Will carried Natalie straight to the Hummer and wrapped her in the blanket he kept in the back. He told Rudy to drive, and Rudy gladly obliged. When everyone was loaded in, he fired up the Hummer and sped off. He never bothered looking in the rearview mirror. If he had, he might have noticed the skinny blind girl they’d seen in the bait shop the day before climbing onto a motorcycle and following them.
By the time they reached the mansion, Natalie’s wound had healed, but she was still shivering from her plunge into the Puget Sound. Rudy pulled the Hummer into the garage and closed the door behind them.
The girl on the motorcycle pulled up, stared for a beat with her black, not-so-blind eyes, and then rocketed toward Pioneer Square.
In the mansion, Will activated the security system and told everyone to get some sleep. They would undoubtedly need it. The Dark Lord had the crystal rods now and was planning on striking a fatal blow to mankind.
Most likely the Dark Lord had retreated back to the Under City. Will knew he had to somehow prevent him from using the Sword of Armageddon, but trying to attack the Beast now, especially when they were all exhausted, would be suicide. They would have to rest, and then come up with a plan of action.
Loreli retreated to the guest room, where she showered, trying to wash away the trauma from White Island. It didn’t work, but she felt a little better anyway. Totally spent, she flopped on the bed and closed her eyes. She remembered how, on the Oleana, while still in Cappy’s body, the Dark Lord had looked at her with surprise and maybe even a little pride in his eyes. “You survived! Amazing. Just amazing,” he’d said. Then he had bound her with the flesh web instead of killing her. Had some part of him actually wanted her to survive and somehow return to him? She tossed the thoughts around in her head until she was too tired to think any longer and then fell asleep.
Rudy and Emily were both weary as well, but they didn’t want to be apart in their respective bedrooms, so they kicked back on the couch in the media room. It wasn’t long before they were asleep, too, their hands touching.
Will took Natalie into his room and laid her down. Then he went down the hall into the lab and checked the security cameras. All was quiet. He checked on his mother. All was quiet there, too. He sent her a quick I love you and a prayer. Then he went back to his room and laid down next to Natalie. She opened her eyes and smiled at him as he pulled her close.
“I love you . . .,” she whispered.
“I know,” he said.
“I love you more than anything . . . more than the next beat of my heart . . .”
Their eyes met in a brief dance, passing adoration back and forth. Natalie opened her mouth to speak again. She wanted to share her remorse, her fears, everything. But Will put a finger to her lips. Her eyes had told him everything he needed to know. He just wanted to hold her until she stopped shaking.
She felt so warm and calm and safe in his arms that she drifted off to sleep, the dreams pulling her away, like a warm river. As she slept, Will stared out the window, watching as the night winds outside whipped the leaves of an oak tree against the glass and thinking about the task ahead of him, and the low likelihood he would survive it.
In the huge cavern deep beneath Pioneer Square, the Dark Lord entered his lair, unwrapped the two crystal rods, and gazed at them. Their beauty brought a smile to his scaly face. He placed the crystals on a slab of marble, the two ends touching. Then he closed his eyes and conjured up his favorite images—war and pestilence, famine, and death. Thinking of such things gave him power. Sufficiently fueled, he spit a stream of fire at the joint where the two shafts were touching. In moments they were fused together, forming one long shaft of crystal power. It was now a massive rod, the magnificent, splendid, deadly blade for the sword he so craved. The fused rods glowed brightly, then dimmed somewhat. The Dark Lord’s eyes narrowed with concern. But then the rods glowed brightly again. It was time to assemble the sword.
The handle, forged from evil by Jared Wasserman, was embedded with blood-red rubies and polished to a brilliant silvery luster. The Dark Lord had shocked the humble craftsman by not killing him, but rather releasing him. He had intended to simply let Jared go—he had done an exemplary job, and that warranted rewarding—but he was, after all, the Prince of Pain. So he could not help but plant within Jared the twin destructive seeds of jealousy and paternal rage. Jared’s life would unravel in a storm of violence, and this pleased the Dark Lord.
Smiling wickedly, he slid the crystal blade into the handle up to the hilt, spitting a constant flame like a blowtorch, and fused the blade to the metal.
Thus was born the Sword of Armageddon.
Out in the main cavern, the sound of thousands of drums was deafening. The demons were attempting to please their leader by hammering out rhythms in his honor. As he entered the cavern, the drumming reached a crescendo. The demons were mad with glee. The slight girl who had followed Will to his mansion bowed, then approached the Dark Lord and told him what she’d learned. He smiled and nodded. Very good. He now knew where the boy lived. Everything was falling into place. The Dark Lord lifted his fist into the air.
“Silence!”
The cavern fell into a hush, save for the sound of one drum, pounded by a whacked-out demonteen with glazed eyes who hadn’t heard his master. The Prince of Darkness shot out a tendril of flame that swiftly engulfed the hapless demonteen, who screamed as he burned to a crisp and then disintegrated.
Now the cavern was stone quiet. Everyone was holding his or her breath. The Dark Lord smiled. Fear was such a wonderful thing. He spoke in a booming voice that echoed off the walls.
“With this sword, victory will be ours! With this sword, the human race will be vanquished! With this sword, all the rivers of Earth will run with blood!’
The demons screeched and shrieked until their throats bled. The Dark Lord smiled and shouted: “Behold! The Sword of Armageddon!”
With his right hand, the Dark Lord held up the mighty sword with the evil handle and the crystal rod blade.
“Now, bring me Will Hunter!”
The underground cavern was bedlam. The demons were working themselves into a murderous frenzy, picking up weapons and fighting amongst themselves.
The Dark Lord watched, his saffron eyes gleaming. The sword’s blade was glowing brightly, but then it flickered and grew dimmer. The Dark Lord growled so loudly as to give the mob pause. The assembled demons, observing the inconsistency of the mighty sword’s blade, sought to will the thing to brightness by pounding their drums and screeching their throats even more raw, raising a hellish ruckus in the great hall. But the blade grew only dimmer. This was a public humiliation, an embarrassment of epic proportions. The Dark Lord blushed a hue even more vivid than his usual scarlet, then screamed in rage as the demons reacted by fiercely wailing and pounding on their drums.
“I gave you an order! Go now! Go and get Will Hunter!”
Hungry for the opportunity to prove themselves, the demons amassed into a tide of death, surging up and out of the cavern, a swarm of evil creatures all of a single mind, all with a common goal: to hunt down and capture the Devil’s son, the great demon foe, Will Hunter. They blasted up through Smiling Bob’s Underground Tours, roaring past an elderly woman from Kentucky, her weak heart failing as they nearly trampled her. They poured up onto the streets of Pioneer Square in a terrifying horde. Nothing could stand in their way. They clambered up First Avenue, smashing cars and kicking the ass of anyone in their path. They were on a mission of destruction. Led by the little “blind” motorcycle girl from Beech Bay, they were headed for the London mansion on Queen Anne Hill.
The Dark Lord retired to his lair and sat upon his throne. As he held the sword, its blade was only flickering now, he furiously wondered what to do. How was he to dominate his greatest adversary with an impotent sword? He closed his eyes and called forth the winds of anger. The vault became a maelstrom as debris and books and papers lifted up off the ground and swirled around. An airborne magazine slapped the Dark Lord in the face and he opened his eyes in rage. It was a copy of Seattle magazine, and on the cover was a photograph of the Space Needle in a lightning storm. The Dark Lord’s eyes narrowed into knowing slits, and once again he smiled.
The first wave of demons swarmed over the tall wrought iron fence surrounding the mansion without making a sound. They moved across the grounds like ghosts, passing the marble statues and topiary animals. They all knew that the one to capture Will Hunter would be immortalized. An alarm was tripped. The mansion and surrounding grounds lit up like a football stadium. The demons froze for a moment, then many of them surged forward. That was a mistake. Will had armed this fortress well, and the infrared detectors sensed the elevated body temperatures of the demons. The lawn spikes were activated, and the first demons to cross the line were noisily and messily impaled from below, their screeches of agony rousing every dog on Queen Anne Hill, their howls filling the night sky.
Will leapt out of bed and ran to his lab, Natalie’s bewildered voice following him down the hall. The monitors were lit up with images of the attacking demons, as alarms throughout the mansion began to sound.