Chapter 48
Horatio
Horatio found the dungeon key hanging on a peg by the door and clenched it in his fist before switching off the lights.
Opening the door a crack, he peered out, relieved to find an empty, unlit hallway.
The key turning in the lock might as well have been thunder the way it echoed through the quiet.
Even the sound of his bare feet against the floor seemed amplified—in his mind, at least.
Picking his way forward, he headed in what he hoped was the direction of the prison, first stopping to hide the key in a potted plant. A few doorways and staircases later, Horatio—lost and panicked—almost tripped over a familiar creature.
“Watch where you’re going, dumbass.”
“Saul?” Horatio whispered.
“No, Saul’s my uncle. I’m Larry. Who the hell are you?” He pushed up his miniature night-vision goggles and glared.
“I’m Horatio, a friend of Saul’s. What are you doing here?”
“Bustin’ my uncle out of the pokey. Looks like I’ll be helping you, too, jailbird.”
Horatio told Larry about Saul’s escape, a synopsis of the plan, along with a condensed version of his run-in with Meridian. “Instead of busting me out, I need you to bust me back in. Can you do that?”
“No probs, boss.” Horatio followed him down a few more hallways until they came to a door with a small window. “This is the back way into the holding pens.”
“So that’s how Meridian snuck me out.”
“Yup. He probably gassed you with one of these.” Larry unzipped his backpack and took out a black sphere.
“Chuck this at the floor, and it explodes.
Ting over in Graphica makes ‘em. Along with this.” He produced a collapsible ladder and a key card.
“Opens anything, anywhere. I just need to swipe it through that thingamajig up there.”
“Or I could do it for you.”
Larry poked him in the knee. “Listen, just because I’m vertically challenged doesn’t mean I need your help.”
“Just trying to save time. I need to be back in there before the guard arrives with breakfast at 6:00 a.m., or my whole plan unravels.”
“It’s only 5:30, big guy. Cool your boots.”
Larry scampered up the ladder with the key card clutched in his teeth.
“Wait. Don’t you want to make sure no one is in there first?”
“No sirens. I’m sure the guard is asleep with his feet on the desk.” After swiping the card, Larry jumped from the ladder to the door handle and pushed it down with his back feet, causing the door to swing open.
“Dude, you’re my new hero.”
Larry chuckled. “If I got paid for every time I had to bust a relative out of jail, I could retire someplace tropical.”
Horatio crept into the room while Larry put his things away. “My cell is still open.”
“That’s a lucky break. Figuring out the keypad code is a pain in the keester.” Larry hung his backpack over one shoulder and put his goggles back on. “Unless you need something else, I’m outta here. This place gives me the skeeves.”
“I owe you one, Larry. Thanks.” Horatio shut the cell door.
“Nah. Any friend of Uncle Saul’s is a friend of mine.” He gave a crisp salute. “Catch ya on the flip side, boss.”
Exhausted, Horatio sank onto the cot and fell asleep thinking about Gunner’s lips. When he opened his eyes again, a young male Reptilian was rattling the cell door.
“Rise and shine. Breakfast is served.” He slid a food-laden tray and a large mug of coffee under the door.
Horatio rubbed visions of Gunner from his eyes and chugged most of the coffee before saying a word. The guard, instead of bounding off, sat cross-legged outside his cell.
“Are you really the guy from the prophecy?”
“Yeah.” Horatio took another sip. “But how do you even know about that?”
“We Reptilians trade gossip like currency, and this story is pure gold. A stranger arriving to kill Meridian?” His eyes gleamed. “Cha-ching.”
The kid sized up Horatio for a long minute, forked tongue flitting between his lips. Wiry but slender, he had a row of short horns splitting the back of his skull from forehead to neck. His wrinkled uniform hung loose on his body, like a hand-me-down, and his boots were splitting at the toes.
“I’m Horatio. Who are you?”
“Name’s Stinger.” He wiped his palms on his pants. “So, are you gonna do it?”
“Do what?”
He leaned closer. “Murder Meridian?”
The hero worship in his eyes sealed the deal. Stinger was the one to bribe. All Horatio needed was a reason. “Not today.”
“When?”
“Sounds like you really want him dead.”
“Duh.” Stinger lowered his voice. “He’s a complete twit.”
Horatio kept the small talk going until he found a soft spot under Stinger’s scales: a female Reptilian named Carlia who worked in the kitchen.
“Carlia, eh? Is she hot?”
Stinger nodded. “Like a million degrees hot. Tall, with squinty eyes and big feet. I like big feet on a female.” Sweat dripped off the kid’s bald head. “Males too, if I’m honest.”
Horny, love-sick kid who was broke as hell—the story practically wrote itself.
Time to move to phase 2.
“I need to talk to Komodo. Is he around?”
“Sure is.” Stinger smirked. “Not a flat spot on him.”
“Can you help me get a message to him?”
“Why the fuck should I do anything for you?”
“I can help you get laid.”
Stinger pushed his face against the bars. “You have my full attention.”
Horatio took the diamond bracelet out of his shoe and draped it across his sleeve, like a pawn shop guy. “Imagine the look on Carlia’s face when she sees this.” Stinger tried to reach through, but Horatio held the jewels out of reach. “No. Komodo first. Then the reward.”
“You mean I gotta find him and drag his scary ass back here? Lotta work for a guy I barely like.”
Horatio held up both bracelets. “But you do like Carlia. These will get you so much action.” He made the bracelets sway. “You’ll probably get dick cramps.”
Stinger’s eyes tracked the jewels, back and forth.
“Dick cramps,” Horatio repeated in a hoarse whisper. “Dick. Cramps.”
More staring from the kid. Time was ticking by, but rushing might spook him.
“She’d look so pretty in these—”
“I’ll do it!” Stinger interrupted.
“Right now?”
“Right now.” He stood and headed for the door.
“Hold up there, kid. I didn’t tell you the message.” Stinger paused with an annoyed grunt. “Tell him I know where the remains are.”
“Remains of what?”
“Komodo will know.”
Horatio’s body was one big knot of tension.
He’d barely had a chance to regroup after his run-in with flesh-hungry Reptilians when he woke up next to his arch-enemy.
And now he had to meet the scariest dude in the universe?
At least Komodo was easy to read. Meridian, on the other hand, was a puzzle wrapped in an enigma, dipped in crazy sauce.
Why the fuck did he tie him up in his sex dungeon?
What did he want? A pep talk? A friend? His confusion deepened with every question until he finally gave up.
His chest itched. Peeking inside his jumpsuit, he found no evidence of the sigil, but he could still feel it humming beneath his skin.
A reminder he wasn’t alone? Or a warning that he had to obey?
Fuck, he wished he could talk to Gunner.
Being away from him was a new kind of torture.
He missed his laugh, his big eyes, and his… everything.
If he were here right now, I’d kiss him from his mouth to his—
The outer door slammed open.
Boots drummed a quick beat.
Stinger appeared, gasping for air like he’d run the whole way.
“He’s on... his way. Gimme.”
Bigger boots. Loud and imposing.
A hulking figure stomped in and glared at Stinger. “You. Out. Now.”
The kid left skid marks, and for good reason.
Komodo wasn’t just big. Komodo was the jock senior who made the rest of the Reptilians look like puny freshmen.
Once the young guard was out of sight, the giant did something Horatio didn’t expect—unlocked the cell and stepped inside.
He pointed at him with his hooked dagger.
“How do you know my personal family business?”
Horatio locked his eyes on Komodo’s in a desperate attempt to avoid looking at his gleaming knife. “Mace Wolfenstein of Peritto told me about Dragon.”
“His name is Wolfguard, a name you’d know well if you indeed spoke to him.” He took one step closer. “You lured me here under the guise of information, but instead, you feed me falsehoods. As if life isn’t short enough already.”
“I only lied about who told me. But this part is all truth. Dragon—”
“Keep my brother’s name out of your filthy mouth!”
The tip of his blade breathed against Horatio’s neck. He waited for the prophecy to step in, but nothing happened.
“I know where he is. You have to trust me, I have proof.”
“Proof of what?”
“That he’s alive!”
Komodo’s blade pressed deeper—just enough to cause a sting. “Liar! My brother’s bones are dust—and soon, yours will be, too.”
Horatio held his breath, praying for the flash and thunder. Seconds ticked. Nothing.
Guess it’s time for a solo.
“Listen, you lizard-faced motherfucker, I killed two Reptilians my first night here. Let me go, or you’ll be the next one I explode into bloody chunks.”
“How do you propose to kill me? Without that toy of yours, you’re nothing but an ordinary human—a rat in a cage.” Komodo snorted. “Horatio Slice, Guitar Slayer of the Universe—what a joke! Why don’t you tell me who you really are?”
“I’d rather show you.”
Terrified beyond comprehension, Horatio belted out the first song that popped into his head: “Even Your Daddy Wants Me” by Stoner Vision.
“He kicked me out of your room and chased me down the street. When I made the park bench, you can bet he took a seat.”
His voice blared. The walls quaked with enough force to crack the mortar between each brick. Komodo released him and took a step back.
“‘She’s too good for you,’ he cried, ‘so take me on instead.’ And that’s the time that I found out your daddy gave good head.’”
Every light bulb shattered. Chunks of plaster rained from the ceiling. A heavy piece struck Komodo’s shoulder, and he dropped his knife.
“What are you doing?” Komodo bellowed. “Stop!”
Water shot from the toilet like a geyser. He skipped to the chorus and wailed.
“Even your daddy wants me, maybe your mama, too. Even your daddy wants me, and you know I want him, too.”
The cell bars imploded into billions of fragments that fell to the floor like volcanic sand. Komodo’s eyes bobbed from Horatio to the destruction and back to Horatio.
“You truly are the man from the prophecy.”
“Are you ready to listen to me now?” Horatio asked.
Komodo’s massive shoulders slumped. “Tell me the location of my brother’s remains so that I may bring him home to rest.”
“Your brother isn’t dead.” He unclipped a plastic case he’d hidden in his hair. “This memory card holds the proof.”
Without a sound, Komodo snatched the card and inserted it into his tablet. The tiny screen highlighted his blank expression. When it was over, he stared at Horatio for a good thirty seconds without blinking—breath whistling through his flat nose.
Horatio stayed quiet, knowing that if he were in a similar situation, he’d need time to process the news, too. What would it be like to mourn a loved one, only to find out that they had never died? An ache engulfed his chest.
“How did you obtain this clip?”
“Juno’s brother Dagger is part of Snake’s crew, so he knew it was safe to leave that behind when he hacked our system.”
“I see.”
Komodo pocketed his tablet and slammed a fist into the wall.
“My brother is alive?”
Another punch, this one hard enough to send a crack across the ceiling.
“I will decimate that useless bag of pus-filled entrails who calls himself king!”
Horatio stretched taller. “No. Meridian belongs to me.”
“What makes your thirst for vengeance more valid than mine? He’s kept my brother a prisoner right under my nose!”
Horatio picked up a handful of black granules from the ruined titanium bars and sifted them through his fingers.
He was about to say something cool, something really badass, when an unexpected pointy sensation distracted him.
Peering down, he saw a syringe with a red plume on the end sticking out of his chest.
“What the fuck?” he mumbled.
A voice cried, “Komodo, sir! Are you hurt?”
Horatio looked toward the voice. A Reptilian guard stood there with a rifle in his hands.
“Hey, asshole!” Horatio sneered. “Those things are for shooting...bears...not….”
The last thing he remembered was the floor hitting his face.