Natan was down. Interesting his blood was blue and spreading on the laminate of the office. The bullet had taken him in the right shoulder. In one fluid motion Sax raised his bow, it had been years but like riding a bike the arrow was loosed through Slick’s gun hand sending the weapon flying. A yelp escaped her lips.
Speare’s hand tightened around the war hammer.
Slick’s good hand produced a second gun, she was an ambidextrous shooter and it was aimed squarely at Speare. Sax had another arrow knocked.
MacCurtis looked at his bodyguard and to the two still standing. Natan appeared to be entering shock. His eyes had rolled back in his head and he was mumbling something that sounded Latin.
“Welcome boys, it has been a while Sax and Natan, Speare you were always a beard on this enterprise.” MacCurtis said.
A beard? A set up. A diversion. A jive. Something to distract. Time Speare thought to put some cards on the table. “Slick, or do you prefer Reesa?”
“Reesa’s dead Speare, my Dad always thought you were a wank—“She did not get to finish her sentence as a red lightning bolt sliced through her chest.
Red energy began crackling around MacCurtis, his eyes moved to a solid blue colour and his hair and beard began growing. Sax let the arrow fly and another. They turned to dust before clearing the room. “It is time you boys lived up to the name Martyrs.”
Natan’s mumbling in Latin grew louder.
“So MacCurtis or is it now Thor?” Speare asked.
“There is no difference. That child thought he had stripped us apart, yet forgot that the entity and host are one.” MacCurtis laughed out loud. “And the best part is that you will die Speare as the nice bow on top of this gift of renewal.” Blue energy shot from MacCurtis’ eyes but stopped three inches away. Shock was on his face.
Plan part one, Natan’s spell contained. Speare raised the hammer, and another piece of shock crossed the Mayor-Entity’s face. Speare winked. “We are ready to rock.”
“You truly think this plan of Zeus’ will work and this little spell from the seed of Lucifer will hold!” MacCurtis yelled.
Speare moved quickly across the room. An alarm went off and sprinklers started. Smoldering flesh of Slick had created a smoke hazard and triggered the fire alarm. Media would be here soon, not every day there is a fire at City Hall. Sax would be good on trying to spin a cover story if this worked.
The hammer slammed square into MacCurtis’ chest and knocked him hard against the windowed wall of the office. Cracks started to appear. Speare knew if he fell through he would escape the containment spell. Which would create a huge issue. This whole adventure had started out like a warped Spenser novel, but had quickly deteriorated into something from the mind of Alan Moore or Clive Barker.
Speare hated the supernatural, it was never clean and easy to solve this problem. Mix that crap in with alien sci-fi junk and it was a bad day at the office. Speare crouched low and upper cut with the top of the hammer. “You have no clue ya bastard how much I have this occult-sci-fi shit.”
MacCurtis was dazed. This was going to take finis to use the spike on top, the dazed man, Natan was still using the incantation so all the lightning was swirling around him. Sax exhaled slowly he still had an arrow trained on MacCurtis’ eye just on the off chance something went askew.
Blood was trickling from MacCurtis’ mouth, and his teeth were loose, a loogie of blood and a few teeth splattered against the shield. “You shall be the Martyrs of my rise to power. This world will be mine.”
Sax burst out laughing. “Dude every night I make love to the supposed Anti-Christ, you jack ass ain’t no world dominator.” He let the arrow fly. Natan winked.
The arrow pierced the one solid blue eye. Speare double gripped the handle of the war hammer and from the crouch drove upwards with the spiked hammer into the entity’s heart. Releasing the handle as MacCurtis fell backwards into the already cracked window through and down wards from seven stories up to the plaza below. Speare and Sax moved towards the shattered window and peer down at the body now impressed into cracked concrete with gawkers, smart phones recording, sirens wailing and phone calls happening.
Natan’s voice subsides.
Sax looks to Speare. “It is nights like this that remind me why I just want to sell books.”