Damnation Code (William Massa) - William Massa Page 0,52
and trembled. Tile beneath his boots cracked and spiderwebbed. Shockwaves rippled through the structure and shattered windows. It rained glass.
And then it all stopped.
The lobby had been eviscerated and resembled a battlefield of fractured glass and broken humanity. Talon stumbled and staggered through the gutted atrium. He had almost reached the exit when he heard the familiar sound of a round being fired. The bullet would find him before he could even turn.
***
The horde was closing in. Circling and circling. They had become part of the occult program, a physical extension of the code.
Serrone squeezed off round after round but the shots echoed impotently in the auditorium. No one gave a shit about the gun in her hand. She was outnumbered and a few bullets shy from being out of ammunition.
She doubted that her predicament would be any different if she were facing a smaller group of fanatics. These people experienced no fear. They didn’t care about their own survival. All that mattered to them was making a sacrifice to whatever unholy deity they worshipped. Her best option was to save the last bullet for herself but unlike the raging cultists, she had a reason to live. That reason was named Casey and she was seven years old and Serrone had promised to have dinner with her tonight. It couldn’t end like this. She couldn’t let Casey down. Not again.
Serrone was a tough woman but she could feel the hot tears welling up in her eyes. Going out like this just wasn’t fair.
The mob was almost upon her when a loud explosion rocked the Omicron building, shaking the foundation of the structure. For a moment, the images on the large screen fritzed out, turning black, and she could hear glass pulverizing outside the auditorium.
Serrone was still trying to make sense of the sounds of destruction when the horde ceased its approach. They jerked up straight and slumped in unison as if a switch had been flipped. The cultists suddenly didn’t look bloodthirsty anymore. Their faces wore expressions of shock, panicked eyes studying the knives in their hands. Stunned by their actions. Somehow the spell had been broken.
Taking in the change, Serrone allowed herself to experience an emotion she thought she’d never feel again: hope.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
FISHER COULDN’T BELIEVE what was happening. The explosion had solidified his growing dread. The servers had been breached. This disturbing insight was followed by another development. His fellow cultists were dropping their knives and returning to their senses. There was only one explanation…
Talon.
They’d been so close to completing the program. Rage flared inside Fisher and he swore he would find the man and teach him the true cost of his victory. Fisher would rebuild, gather a new flock. Omicron could not be stopped.
As these thoughts of vengeance consumed his mind and heart, footsteps echoed in the lobby below. He peered over the railing and saw Talon stumble from the elevators. Fisher’s lip twisted into a cruel smile. Payback’s a bitch.
He wished he could announce himself to his enemy, to make him suffer, but he expected Talon to be armed and wasn’t taking any chances.
He sighted down on Talon. Fired.
***
A muffled scream followed the explosive crack of the bullet. Talon whirled and saw Fisher spill from the first floor and crash to the lobby. The man’s body jerked upon impact and grew still.
Who did he have to thank for saving his life?
Footfalls behind him. Talon turned. Staring back at him was Detective Serrone, gun leveled. Her hair was pasted to her forehead, features coated with perspiration and exhaustion. Who was he kidding — she probably cut a better figure than he did.
For a moment their eyes locked and Talon remained unsure of the detective’s next move.
“What happened here today?” she asked.
Forgoing long-winded explanations, Talon said, “Evil was defeated.”
His words seemed to satisfy Serrone. At least for now. The detective had saved his life. He would never forget her. Eying Serrone he said, “Thank you.”
Talon turned away from the detective, her eyes convincing him that she wouldn’t shoot him. She knew he was one of the good guys.
He staggered out of Omicron. Sirens keened in the distance as he stumbled to his motorcycle. He feared that in his battered state the cops might stop him, but he would have to chance it.
He swung onto the Ducati and shot out of the Omicron parking lot. He was long gone by the time the authorities arrived.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
TALON DIDN’T REMEMBER how he got back to Casca’s estate. He later was told