Mass had been wondering why Portsmouth seemed a little quiet. The chit-chat wasn’t as loud and there weren’t as many campfires. “I took the long way into town,” he said. “They headed north, I’m guessing?”
“What other direction is there to go? I’m just glad I got to stay here. Don’t much fancy being out there on the road at my age.”
Mass nodded. “You’re right. This is the safest place. Cheers for the info.”
“No problem, friend. Hey, if you see Diane, tell her I’ve got some lovely steamed pollack set aside, but it won’t keep forever.”
Mass frowned. “Why would Diane come around here? She lives in the port administration building.”
“Not no more she don’t. She moved over here to get away from it all. Don’t think she gets on with General Thomas, to tell the truth. It must have knocked her nose out of joint, seeing as she was part of Wickstaff’s inner circle. It were too much responsibility for a young lass anyway.”
Mass put his hood back up, ready to exit the conversation. “Diane’s as capable as anyone in Portsmouth. When I see her, I’ll tell her how much respect you have for her.”
The fisherman put down his bloody tackle and folded his arms. “Now, there’s no need to go telling tales, lad.”
“Have a good night.” Mass returned to the others, who were still out of sight in an alleyway between the warehouses.
Addy looked at him. “Well? Learn anything?”
“Seems like Thomas took everyone out on the road – an entire army.”
Addy folded her arms. “So, what… he’s declaring jihad on the demons?”
“Sounds like a good plan to me,” said Tox. “He could finally end this. Aren’t you tired of fighting?”
Smithy placed a palm against his temple. “Are you soft in the head? Crimolok’s heading this way with his merry band of demonic dickheads. Thomas is marching everyone right into a smackdown.”
“And leaving Portsmouth poorly defended,” added Mass.
Tox clearly disagreed, huffing and puffing before he responded. “Thomas must know about Crimolok. How could he not? Portsmouth has scouts all over the place.”
“Not that far north,” said Mass. “We’ve come twenty miles since this morning, at least.”
Smithy arched his back and groaned. “Yeah, no shit. I’m ready to drop.”
Mass turned to Addy. “Go get the others. We’ll set the women up somewhere safe before we do anything. Hopefully there’re still people around we can count on as friends.”
Tox nodded. “I know a couple of guys who look after supplies in this area. I’ll go see if they’re still around. What those women need is a warm bed and hot food.”
Mass nodded and waved. “Go!”
Addy brought forward the women and the rest of the Urban Vampires. Cullen was leading them, but he had a grim look on his face. “The city seems deserted,” he said. “Does anybody know why?”
Mass told them about Thomas and his army.
“That’s good,” said Cullen.
Addy frowned. “Why is it good?”
“Because it means we can take back Portsmouth in his absence.”
It sounded good in theory, but Mass doubted it would be that easy. “Thomas wouldn’t have left the city defenceless. We’ll need more than just us to take over. Even if we manage it, Thomas can easily take it back.”
“That depends on what happens out on the road,” said Cullen. “Least we can do is make life hard for the bastard if he survives and makes it back. I’m telling you, we should find out who’s running things around here and take them out.”
Mass didn’t like it one bit. A lot could go wrong. It was too difficult a decision for him to make alone. “I… I need to speak with Diane. If anyone knows the situation in Portsmouth, it’s her.”
“She’s dead,” said a voice from behind them. It spoke from the shadows.
Mass raised his shotgun. “Who’s there? Show yourself.”
A young shaven-headed man stepped out of the darkness. “I come in peace.”
“We’ll be the judge of that,” said Tox, and he made a grab for the stranger.
The stranger put up a hand and glared. “If your hand touches me, you lose it.”
Tox wasn’t usually one to suffer intimidation, but he recoiled and stepped back. Something about the stranger’s dark eyes suggested danger, too unflinching, too unconcerned.
“Who are you?” Mass demanded again.
“Damien. I was trying to help your friend, Diane, but I did a bad job. She headed out to kill General Thomas. Even if she gets the job done, I doubt she’ll be coming back. For what it’s worth, I’m sorry.”
Smithy cleared his throat and looked at Mass. “Who exactly is this Diane you all keep talking about?”
Mass ignored him, keeping his eyes on the stranger named Damien. “Why the hell would Diane head out to kill Thomas?”
“You’re Mass, right? Lotta people been counting on you being alive. Thomas has been taking care of business while you’ve been gone, executing people in public, playing games with his enemies. He had Diane’s number from the start, but she couldn’t keep her head and play the game. I tried to help her, but she was too far gone. Revenge was the only thing left for her. I’ve seen some things, let me tell you, but that girl scares me.”
Mass didn’t trust this guy. Something about him was off. “What do you want, Damien?”
“To help. I thought I could do it from the shadows, but it turns out I’m not really the consigliere type.”
Mass frowned. “The hell does that mean?”
“It means he’s a fan of The Godfather,” said Smithy. He put his fingers and thumbs together and said, “I’m-a gonna make him an offer he can’t refuse.”
Damien smirked. “It means I’m no good at giving advice. There’s only one thing I’m good at.”
“And what’s that?” asked Mass.
“Fucking shit up.”
Smithy tittered. “That’s so badass. You should have your own comic book.”
Damien glared. “You remind me of someone I used to know. Guy called Jerry.”
“Handsome, was he?”
“Dead.”
Smithy winced. “Downer. Well, I for one
