Part 13 (1/2)
That's why G.o.d makes me live, he thought, trying not to be bitter.
”You're awfully quiet, Padre,” Esther said, breaking the silence. ”Spending too much time in your own head?”
He chuckled. ”Don't we all?”
”A little hard to escape sometimes,” she noted drily. ”An old lady like me doesn't want to spend too much time there.”
”You're not old,” he said, too quickly.
”Uh-huh. Speaking of old, been meaning to talk to you about that.”
He felt his skin p.r.i.c.kle. Esther Leitner was sharp, with the cunning of a fox and the vision of an eagle. He had often sensed that she was watching him, studying him. It had been so long since any had done that with eyes that truly wanted to know the truth, and it frightened him a little.
”What is it, Esther?” he asked.
”Well, Juan, you strike me as a very old man.”
”War makes men old.”
”And lies make men older.”
Her eyes were locked on him, intense, probing. ”I don't know what you mean,” he said.
They climbed deeper into the thicket where outlaws and, later, Free French Forces and so many others had hidden. He only hoped the flower they sought had also remained hidden. The entire area was under vampire control. Still, the sun was s.h.i.+ning high in the sky, and as thick and tall as the brush was, a Cursed One would be hard-pressed to find cover from the burning of the sun.
”You have the eyes of a very old man,” she persisted.
He didn't say anything.
”You look young, but you're not.”
That caught him by surprise. He struggled not to give any sign of his intense discomfort. Esther would make a formidable enemy, and he had the sudden, overwhelming realization that he had underestimated her.
And underutilized her.
She, too, had spent a lifetime hiding her ident.i.ty. Of course she would look at the world differently, a.s.sume others were hiding things as well. Maybe that was all it was. Perhaps he could allay her concerns.
Esther grabbed his arm with enough force to turn him to face her.
Her eyes were hard. ”Listen, you want to hide who you are from my granddaughter and all her friends, that's fine. But I need to know who I'm fighting with.”
”I promise you we're on the same side,” he said.
She pursed her lips. ”You know, I did a little research while we were staying at the monastery.”
He licked his lips. ”Oh?”
”Yeah. I've got my suspicions about who you really are.”
He realized that denying it would do him no good. But he was not going to admit it, either.
”You don't want to fess up, fine. But I need to know one thing,” she said, squinting at him.
”What?”
”How are you still alive?”
Somewhere to the left a roar split the air.
He spun to face the sound, and Esther aimed her submachine gun.
In the hush she whispered, ”What is it?”
He crossed himself. ”I don't know.”
The tops of the bushes began to shake, and the sounds of breaking branches crackled through the air. The ground beneath his feet began to tremble.
”That can't be good,” Esther muttered.
And then they saw it. It was tall, approaching seven feet, and its skin was chalk white except for where it was covered with dingy gray fur. Ragged military clothes hung off its nearly naked body. Its head, shoulders, and chest were bulbous and misshapen, and its overly long arms ended in claws. Its legs were knotted with muscles, and its feet were bare.
”Hybrid!” he shouted, grabbing for his Uzi. He pulled the trigger, but nothing happened. ”It's jammed!”
”Got it,” Esther said, as she let loose with her own submachine gun. The bullets thudded into the thing as it kept coming toward them.
Father Juan thanked the Holy Mother that the monstrosity didn't have super speed. But Esther's bullets weren't slowing it down.
He raised his hands, murmured a spell, and let loose with fireb.a.l.l.s that hit the hybrid, one after another, in the face. The creature screamed, sounding all too human, and raised a hand to its eyes.
And then it charged Father Juan and Esther. With a shout Father Juan threw up a protective barrier, and the creature crashed against it so hard that it bounced back and fell on its back.
Esther dashed forward, and he barely had time to drop the barricade before she, too, hit it. She leaped on top of the creature and emptied what had to be most or all of her clip into its skull and chest. The bullets ricocheted off the bony protrusions of its head.
Which meant beheading it would probably be out of the question.
Father Juan raced up beside her. The hybrid was bleeding from several chest wounds. The face was batlike, with an inverted triangle of cartilage and two holes for nostrils. The eyes were dark black, and its mouth was a jagged mess of fangs.
Father Juan conjured a fireball and showed it to the creature. ”Are there more of you?”
The hybrid groaned and shook its head, but snapped its jaws at them. Blood and saliva mixed together. And something green and foul-smelling.
”It's sick-infection, gangrene, something,” Father Juan said.
”Then it should take this as a kindness,” Esther said. She jabbed it in the eye with the barrel of her submachine gun and pulled the trigger.
Blood splattered everywhere, and Juan jumped back with a shout.