Billie dumped a fresh magazine into the knot of dead people. Several of them fell, but she knew it didn’t matter. “St. George,” she hollered. “Get your ass up! We need you!”
Cairax grabbed the gate again and heaved. The rolling fence bent forward with a squeal and bounced back into place. The unibrow guard fired a burst into the monster’s face. One of the men on the guard shack lashed out with his pike and the demon caught the end. It heaved the shaft up, flinging the man into the sea of undead. He hit the pavement screaming and vanished under a wave of hands and teeth.
Then St. George drove his fists up and the exes went sprawling.
The hero staggered to his feet. His jacket was covered with bite marks, his skin was pale, but he was still alive. He coughed out some fire and smoke.
Yards away, the demon glared at him and tried to hiss.
St. George grabbed a blue Metro parked near the curb, sinking his fingers through the body and the door frame. He heaved the car into the air and spun with it just as Cairax lunged. The demon’s skull bounced on the hood and it staggered back. He threw the little car after it and sent the dead monster sprawling.
A cheer went up as the hero stumbled out to fight the monster. He gave them a ragged salute, drove his fingers through an ex’s spine, and took a few unsteady steps after the demon. “If you need to take a breather,” he shouted, “just put your hand up or something.”
Cairax straightened up in the crowd of zombies, hefting a fallen phone pole. St. George ducked and the pole crushed dozens of exes in a wide arc. He leaped over the next swing and a handful of zombies were smashed into the burned remains of a Volkswagen. He flipped up though the air and got his arm around the demon’s neck, wrestling past the thick collar.
The creature’s long hands twisted back, grabbed him, and brought the hero hurtling into the pavement. They smashed him down again and again before flinging him against a light post. His body cartwheeled into the crowd and the dead stumbled after him.
Cairax marched forward, reaching up over the fence at the shooters. Billie and Unibrow sprayed bullets at its face. Ilya dropped half a dozen exes near it.
“HEY!”
The demon turned and caught the phone pole in the side of its head. The battering ram slammed it against the wall of the Mount.
“You dropped this!” shouted St. George.
The dead thing hissed and the pole crushed it against the wall again. Cinder blocks cracked behind its ridged back.
Lady Bee fired down into the exes mobbing the gate. Even a few yards away, they were just shadows. She emptied her AK and traded out clips. “What am I looking for?” she hollered.
“An ex in a costume,” bellowed Cerberus. “A blue and black costume.”
She threw a few flares out at the endless hordes, but the darkness smothered them even before they fell into the crowd. “You’re shitting me? In all this?”
Look for more dark, then, said Zzzap. Look for where it’s pitch black.
Cerberus took another limping step and stopped. The battlesuit tried to turn its head and twitched like a junkie. Her feet shifted a few inches and froze. “I’m having tons of failures,” she yelled. “The piezoelectric sensors aren’t working. I’m locking up.”
Bee dropped another handful of exes. “It’s just dark everywhere,” she shouted.
The wraith forced his way higher into the black air. He willed himself brighter and pushed out against the darkness. And again, the shadows resisted.
They pushed back hardest from the northwest.
Zzzap flew past Bee and the gate. He shifted in the air and let off another burst of light. Below his feet the black parted to reveal thousands of exes clawing up at him. They covered Gower like an open concert venue. The darkness rolled back and he resisted it again.
To the west.
Another burst guided him into the alley across the street. The consuming night had weight here. It pressed down on him, smothering his light like an ocean of ink. He let off enough energy to melt through steel and the shadows fled for a few moments.
At the heart of the darkness was a dead man, half hidden in the alley by a thick phone pole. Scores of other exes shifted and shambled around him, packed into the narrow space. The black and blue outfit hung on the desiccated frame and made the shoulder pads seem huge. Covering his head was a heavy mask designed to look like an armored helmet with a plume and a visor. The sleeves were tattered and Zzzap could see old bite marks across the withered gray flesh.
The thing inside Midknight glared out at the hero and gave one final push. The waves of darkness lunged in for a last attack.
The glowing wraith swept them aside with a wave of his hand. The shadows shattered as the air simmered. Zzzap brought his palms up and focused.
Beneath the visor, the ex’s teeth started to chatter.
The blast was a foot across. It vaporized the ex-hero from the chest up, burned a hole through the apartment complex behind him, and went on for another two blocks before vanishing through molten pavement.
What was left of Midknight burst into flame, along with dozens of other exes in the alley. The dead hero crumbled into ash like charred logs. A roaring wind picked up around Zzzap as air thunderclapped in to fill the hole he’d burned into the atmosphere. The dust scattered and disappeared.
The moon and the stars shone down from above, and Zzzap felt the radio chatter filling the wavelengths around him. The gate lights swelled up to brighten that corner of the Mount.
He
