Shooter a try.”

“Well, you ought to be able to conquer Canada with that,” Hollister said. “Shaniah, what about you?”

“I have the Archaic vengeance blade.” She pulled it from her boot, and it gleamed in the lamplight of the car. She had cleaned and sharpened it since Absolution, and Hollister had to admit it was a formidable weapon.

“That’s it?” he asked.

“Yes.”

“But you…”

“It will be all I need,” she said.

“What about one of Pete’s Fire…” Hollister started to say, though he knew he wasn’t likely going to change her mind.

But she held up her hand. “No.”

“Why not?” he asked. Chee looked at her curiously as well, wondering why anyone would chose to decline a weapon of such destructive capability.

“The Archaics Malachi has turned are not likely to use weapons. However, there is the possibility. And let’s not forget the men following us who do carry guns. And as your Monkey Pete explained, if I am shot at I do not wish to explode into pieces and burn to a cinder.”

“Fair enough,” Hollister said.

Their inventory complete, their weapons ready, there was nothing left to do but wait.

Chapter Fifty-eight

The opening to main shaft 7 at the Clady mine was crowded with Archaics. Most of them were initiates, although Malachi had sired a few of them when he first landed on American shores. He had kept his band intentionally small then, hiding, feeding either in major cities or remote towns. Places where they could either blend in and find easy food, or out-of-the-way locations where no one would likely notice when they did feed. They moved ever westward until he found what he was looking for. A place much like the Archaic homeland in Europe. Filled with mountains, defensible and secluded, but populated enough so he could begin raising more followers.

The Archaics were waiting for Malachi to ascend from the mine. In three more days he would be fifteen hundred years old and immortal. No human weapon, no elemental, no damnable priest of Saint Ignatius could summon the fires of heaven to consume him. He would live forever. And here he would rule. He would sire more and more humans until his army was too large, too vast to defeat. The centuries of humiliation, the years of living high in the mountains, feeding on vermin and cowering, hiding from the humans like frightened dogs would be over. Archaics would rule. As it had been intended since the dawn of time.

Only one thing could stop him now.

Shaniah. She was nearly an Eternal herself. She could have the power, although he doubted it. Since he’d left the Archaics in Europe, he had broken the covenant and fed on humans again. What strength flowed from the Huma Sangra, human blood. He was the most powerful Archaic alive. He knew this. He also knew Shaniah was a puppet of the Old Ones. There was little chance she had fed on human blood while she pursued him, and she would be too weak to stop him. He smiled at the thought.

But she was coming. He could sense her now. Close by and not without considerable power. Just not enough. Malachi thought she might have been killed in Absolution, but instead she and a handful of puny humans had escaped, and what’s more, had killed more than one hundred of his people. Those who survived the encounter told him of a great weapon used by one of the humans. It had destroyed many of them. He had killed the survivors as a lesson to the others.

Interesting. But he was not afraid. Humans were clever, he would give them that. Weapons and spells and magics and elementals they had discovered through the ages had killed many Archaics. But Malachi knew in his heart they were not strong enough. If the Old Ones had not given up, if they had not been cowards and retreated, the Archaics would rule the planet already.

Now he would make it so.

His army was more than five hundred strong. They had hidden themselves well here in the Clady mine. The humans did not know where they were or even for certain what they were. And they wouldn’t realize what hell had descended on them until it was too late.

But Shaniah was coming and that was… interesting. Was she coming alone, or was she bringing help? Had she found some humans who thought their clever weapons could destroy him? Perhaps.

Malachi walked through the crowd, and his followers reached out to touch him, his arms, his hair-stroked his shoulders as he passed by. He stepped up on a cluster of crates that had been pushed together to create a small stage from which to address his people.

“My children,” he said. “The time is near.” Cheers erupted and he waited for them to subside. He felt invincible. He stood over seven feet tall. His nearly pure white hair now hung to the center of his back. He looked like some ancient warrior, a Viking king, or a knight from the middle ages.

“Our time is nearly here,” he said. More cheers.

“But first I must ask from some of you a grave sacrifice,” he said. The crowd quieted instantly.

“I’ve told you of Shaniah, the queen of those left behind. How she has followed me from our homeland. It was she who led the humans at Absolution who killed our brothers and sisters.” At this, yells and jeers and yowls erupted and Malachi held out his hands.

“She is coming,” he said. “I can sense her, she is close and will try to stop us.” There were more shouts and cries of anger and vengeance.

“Do not underestimate her,” he said. “She cannot defeat me, I have grown far too powerful, but she is strong and we must not let her delay our plans.”

“Shaniah is coming from the south, I would surmise she rides by train to the end of the line near Clawson’s Gap. That is where we must meet and defeat her. I ask who among you will meet her challenge?” The shouts were nearly deafening and every one of the assembled Archaics raised their hand.

“I do not ask lightly. Shaniah is cunning. She is brave and strong and fierce-a brilliant warrior. The humans who killed our brethren at Absolution may be with her, and may bring more weapons. Some of you who confront her now will die. But Shaniah must be stopped, or all of us may perish.”

He looked to two of his men, Lucas and Jonathan, followers who had been with him since he arrived in America.

“Take one hundred fifty… no… take two hundred and meet the train at Clawson’s Gap. Destroy her,” he said quietly.

It took a matter of minutes for his men to gather two hundred angry, vicious Archaics. With howls of rage and anger they ran out of the camp, disappearing into the trees.

On the way to kill Shaniah.

Chapter Fifty-nine

Monkey Pete stuck his head into the armory. The train was starting to slow and the brakes sounded.

“About two miles to the end of the line, Major,” he said. A few minutes later the train finally stopped. It still made Hollister nervous, the idea the train was driving itself with no one in the engine room. Pete had tried explaining it to Hollister, but the major had had no idea what the engineer was talking about.

Pete pinned a map up on an open space on the wall. “We’re here. The grade was too steep for a rail line to the mine, so they used wagons to haul the ore back and forth from here to the mining camp. There’s a road, so it makes for an easy ride on horseback.”

Hollister studied the map. “Makes for a good spot for an ambush also.”

“Well, there is that,” Monkey Pete said.

“We don’t have much choice,” Hollister said. “Let’s do a final weapons check and then we’ll ride out at first

Вы читаете Blood Riders
Добавить отзыв
ВСЕ ОТЗЫВЫ О КНИГЕ В ИЗБРАННОЕ

0

Вы можете отметить интересные вам фрагменты текста, которые будут доступны по уникальной ссылке в адресной строке браузера.

Отметить Добавить цитату