Blind God's Bluff A Billy Fox Novel - By Richard Lee Byers Page 0,36

he completely filled me up. Until he was wearing my skin like a glove.

It wasn’t like when the giant’s axe chopped me into five pieces. This time, Red didn’t have a whole other mind of his own, and I didn’t black out when he took over. But my emotions changed.

Imagine if you’d been sick in a hospital bed your whole life, and then, all of a sudden, you were as healthy as an Olympic athlete. Imagine running out of that sad white building into the most beautiful spring day anybody ever saw.

It was kind of like that. I wanted to grab A’marie and jump her bones. I wanted to bust open the dusty old cans on the shelves and gobble the fruit inside. I wanted to run, jump, and slap out rhythms on the wall. To do anything, as long as it was a chance to feel and move.

But Red wasn’t driving. I was, the complete me, and I’d called up Mr. Ka to do a job. I shut my eyes, took a deep breath, and told me to calm down. It blunted the edge of that wild exhilaration. I still felt good, but not crazy good.

“Are you all right?” asked A’marie. “You’ve got this weird grin.”

“I’m fine,” I said. “I think that maybe I can help Rufino. I’m going to try.”

I knelt down beside him. He thrashed harder, trying to tear his hands free so he could hit me and to hitch himself around into position to kick me. He looked like a fish flopping in the bottom of a boat.

“Can you guys hold him still?” I asked the others.

They did, although it wasn’t easy, even with A’marie helping. I put both hands on his chest, like I was going to do CPR, and tried to stream some of Red’s energy down my arms and through the point of contact. It flowed in surges, in time with the pumping of my heart.

For maybe three seconds. Then the world blinked, and I was someplace else.

I spun around expecting to see stone columns, and the Pharaoh’s giants coming at me. I didn’t. I was standing under the night sky beside the black expanse of the Hillsborough River. I knew it was the Hillsborough because I could see the silver minarets of the University of Tampa lit up in the distance.

A scream cut through the dark.

I ran in that direction. I figured I was headed into trouble, but not a trap. My gut told me that it wasn’t the Pharaoh or any of my other opponents who’d dumped me here. It was my own magic. If I really wanted to help Rufino, this was where I needed to be.

I heard more screams. Then one of the bridges that cross the river appeared in the darkness ahead, with Tiki torches burning underneath the near end. Since there were a dozen finheads gathered in the pool of yellow light, I stopped running and started sneaking. I was twice as big as any of them, but big only gets you so far.

Afghanistan had taught me how to sneak, and I made it close enough to see what the finheads were doing. I felt like puking when I did.

They had one of their own staked spread-eagled on the ground. It’s tricky recognizing inhuman faces until you get familiar with the particular race, but I was pretty sure the prisoner was Rufino. And that it was his own wife and kids slicing him up with knives while the onlookers laughed and cheered them on. Ezequiel’s Bucs jersey was a giveaway.

I realized this was the nightmare that had driven Rufino nuts. Somehow, he was still stuck inside it, and my job was to get him out.

By blasting it to Hell? Maybe. I wished my rifle into my hands.

It didn’t work. At the moment, I was Red, and weapons weren’t his thing. I considered switching to one of the other souls, but I was afraid that would drop me out of the dream.

Screw it. I was juiced with Red’s energy, and I had surprise on my side. The finheads were little, and imaginary to boot. How tough could it be?

I found out when I rushed them.

At first it went okay. They were all so intent on the torture that I was able to get right on top of them before anybody noticed me. I grabbed the closest, who was dressed in baggy shorts and a wifebeater, heaved him up, and slammed him into the graffiti spray-painted on one of