cauliflowered ear. “You boys hear that?”
“Yeah-” But the man didn’t get to finish, since Heinrich punched him in the throat with two rusty nails. He kicked Deych in the knee, and as he lurched away, the open shackles fell to the floor. Heinrich scrambled to his feet.
“What the fuck?” Sharps took in his men, one hopping on one leg and the other clutching his bleeding throat. “How’d you get loose?”
Heinrich charged, but Sharps surprised him. The OCI man was remarkably quick on his feet. He sidestepped and threw a hook into Heinrich’s ribs. The blow was fearsome, and Sharps followed that up with a nasty punch to the side of his head. Heinrich tried to hit back, but Sharps simply blocked the shot and put one of his fists into Heinrich’s eye. Heinrich realized as he crashed into the far wall that he’d drastically underestimated the fighting skills of this particular OCI agent.
The man in the hallway drew a pistol.
“Stay out of this. The German is mine,” Sharps ordered. “Well, shit… Look at that. I messed up his face. Look what you made me do.”
“He can’t look too roughed up,” Deych said. “The Coordinator will be pissed.”
“The Coordinator didn’t think he’d have already escaped either. I’ll try not to mess up that pretty face, otherwise Stuyvesant will have to do. Stand back, boys, and Greg, see if you can’t get Tom’s neck to stop bleeding all over.”
Blood was running down Heinrich’s face. He’d cut his scalp against the rough wall. Hopefully it made him look more injured than he really was.
Sharps cracked his knuckles. “You’re a clever Jerry, but you picked the wrong man to tussle with. Nick Sharps. Heard the name?”
Heinrich pulled himself up. His ribs were on fire. The big man was only a few feet away. “Can’t say that I’ve had the pleasure.”
“Heavyweight contender few a years back, until some tiny little Active punk near killed me in an exhibition bout. You know what that does to a man’s fighting career? It’s like losing to a kangaroo. Embarrassing regular folks just ’cause you can. Your kind ain’t shit without fancy magic tricks to back you up.” Sharps lifted his scarred fists. “You got no idea how much I’m gonna enjoy this. Let’s see how good you Actives are in a fair fight.”
Heinrich had lost the nails. Which was rather unfortunate, since Heinrich was of average size while his opponent was nearly the size of Jake Sullivan, but Heinrich had grown up fighting zombies, and thus had no concept of the words fair fight. Heinrich mirrored Sharps’ boxing stance, though he had no intent of duking it out with this monster.
Sharps stepped up to swing, but Heinrich immediately dove at his legs, wrapped his arms tight around the bigger man’s ankles and drove all of his weight against the knees. The OCI man bellowed as they crashed into the dust. Heinrich rose enough to punch him in the crotch a few times, then rolled away, managed to get up first, and kicked Sharps in the back of the neck.
“Lumbering oaf!” Heinrich shouted as Sharps tried to get up. He stabbed one thumb into Sharps’ eye and used his other hand to try to rip his ear off. “I’ll show you how we do it in Berlin!”
“Get him off!” the OCI man cried.
So much for fair. The other two rushed him. One was still bleeding badly from the neck punctures, so Heinrich concentrated on him first, and managed to strike him repeatedly on the face before Deych caught a handful of Heinrich’s shirt. So Heinrich bit a chunk out of Deych’s forearm. Then Sharps got up and joined in. It was a blur of motion as the three of them crashed and blundered about the tiny cell. The Fade was dwarfed by his opponents, but he fought like a cornered animal. Something hit the light and sent it swinging. Wild shadows added to the confusion.
They had not been expecting this level of savagery. Heinrich mentally congratulated himself for that as he jerked a knee into someone’s face, but then a flailing fist smashed his nose flat. He managed to hook his finger into a snarling mouth and fish-hooked Sharps until the man’s face split open. There was an incoherent cry of pain, and that just spurred Heinrich on. Each one of these men was larger than him, and all of them were tough, but he never quit moving, striking, punching, and kicking. He’d been hoping that one of them had been stupid enough to bring a gun into reach, but they’d not given him that opportunity.
Thirty seconds later, Heinrich was in one corner, back to the wall, bruised knuckles raised before him. His shirt was hanging in tatters, one eye was swollen shut, and he could taste blood and feel the grit of broken teeth. Heinrich was not sure if the noise he was hearing was from all the severe blows to his head or if the whistling noise had actually turned into an obvious howl.
The OCI men were standing at the far end, bleeding and shaking. The room was so small that one step would put them back into striking range. The OCI with the new neck piercings leaned against the wall, then took a slow, dazed seat on the floor. He was done.
“So much for not damaging the merchandise. Kid’s a scrapper. Forget this…” Sharps gasped. He may have maintained some of his striking abilities, but he no longer had a fighter’s wind. “Shoot him, Clark.”
The man in the hall coldly lifted his gun, pointed it at Heinrich’s face, and exploded.
The concussion smashed Heinrich against the wall.
It took him a moment to blink himself back to coherence. What was that? The hall was painted with blood. The gunman, now flat on his back, raised one arm that now ended in a stump and began to scream.
The explosive hadn’t been very large, so it must have been on the OCI man’s person… There wasn’t time to think it through. His opponents had been knocked down as well, but Sharps was already getting back up. Then Heinrich noticed that the light bulb had been knocked out, but somehow he could still see, though the illumination was very odd. The white of Sharps’ shirt glowed bright, as did his teeth and eyes, but everything else was lit by some sort of black light that was coming from…
“Scheiss!” A small bit of crackling black light had appeared in the bottom of the wall that separated them from Francis’ cell. Dust motes were swirling around the strange spot as if it was some sort of vortex. Inside the strange light was nothing, and the nothing was growing. The circle inched forward, and as it did so, the bricks around it crumbled into dust and disappeared into the vortex.
Heinrich had no idea what that was, but the way it was devouring the bricks made him very uncomfortable. It was time to go. He leapt for the exit.
Again, Sharps was too quick. He caught Heinrich and threw him violently back. Heinrich bounced off the far wall and slid to the floor.
“Fool. Look at that!” Heinrich pointed desperately at the slowly growing… whatever it was. “Run!”
“Stinkin’ Fade.” Sharps had his fists up again. “No more of your tricks.”
“What is that?” Deych, too, had seen the anomaly. “We gotta get out of here.” The blackness had now taken up the bottom half of the wall and a few feet of the floor.
“Not now, Greg. Not ‘til he’s dead,” Sharps growled as Heinrich pushed himself back up. The OCI man had wised up this time, and his approach was methodical. When Heinrich rushed him, the gigantic fists fell like rain. Heinrich managed to latch onto Sharps’ coat, but the big man just kept punching him in the side. Heinrich’s knees buckled, but before he could fall, Sharps cocked back one arm and smashed a mighty overhand right into Heinrich’s skull. The hard floor rushed up to meet him.
“Sharps! We’ve got to go!” Deych shouted again, the fear obvious.
The OCI man that Heinrich struck in the neck had passed out from blood loss and was slumped on the floor. As the edge of the darkness touched one of his outstretched hands, he was simply pulled into the vortex without a sound, almost as if something had taken hold and dragged him inside. Within a second, his feet disappeared into the black light and he was gone. Deych swore and ran for it. Heinrich tried to crawl for the door, but Sharps kicked him in the side hard enough to lift him off the ground.
The howl turned into a scream as their air was consumed by the void. Heinrich could hardly see the devouring blob through his swollen eyes, but now he could feel it. The void was fueled by magic, and the OCI’s nullifiers were pushing against it. Only this thing was so powerful that it laughed at the dampening effect and pushed back. This time the explosion came from above, and it was far stronger. The entire building shook to its foundation. Boards broke and dust rained from the ceiling. It was like being at the receiving end of an artillery bombardment.
It all came flooding back. For the first time in days, Heinrich could feel his Power burning hot, and despite his injuries, he felt very good. He had never been deprived of his magic before, and very much hoped that he would
