This is not much of an improvement. The warrior tries to get his hold back, but we’ve rolled into a tangle of flailing limbs. I ram my knee hard into his nuts and he howls, doubling over to clutch at his crotch. You’d think the dead wouldn’t feel any pain. I slam my head into his nose and there’s a crunch of bone and more screaming.
I roll off of him and get to my feet. Blood is pouring from the gash on my right arm, dripping off my fingers. He’s not sure if he needs to hold on to his face or his crotch, so I complicate the decision and kick him in the teeth.
He screams some more so I kick him until he stops moving and his face is a pulpy mess of bloody meat. Then I get down with him and punch his face with my jade left hand until there’s nothing recognizable left.
“You have anger management issues,” says a voice behind me that I don’t recognize. I swing around, ready for another fight and freeze.
The man in front of me is tall, gaunt. Skin so tight I can see bones and organs pressing from the inside as if they’re struggling to break through. The flesh on his skull is almost superfluous, paper thin and shot through with veins of green. I can see the hinge of his jaw, teeth pressing against emaciated lips. The dozen eyeballs strung around his neck look crazily in all directions before finally focusing on me.
“Mictlantecuhtli.”
“Nice to finally meet you in the flesh, Eric,” he says. “Such as it is.”
“You’re looking better than the last time I saw you,” I say. Considering he was a rock at the time that’s not really surprising. As I become more like him he’s becoming more like me.
“You’re looking worse,” he says. “Might want to do something about that arm.”
“Huh? Oh, right.” My right forearm is a bloody mess with a short, deep gash in it. I can still move my hand and I have feeling in my fingers. The bleeding is bad, but it’s not going to kill me anytime soon.
I check my messenger bag for some bandages and come up with a roll of duct tape, instead. One of these days I’ll remember to stock a first aid kit in this thing. I wrap the tape tight around the wound. The pressure should stop the bleeding. And if it doesn’t, well, I’m probably not going to live much longer, anyway.
“I’m no expert,” Mictlantecuhtli says, “but I don’t think that’s hygienic.”
I’m so used to hearing and seeing him as Alex that it’s just as disconcerting as Santa Muerte appearing as a flesh and blood woman and not a pile of bones in a wedding dress. The voice is wrong, but he’s still as big a smart ass as the chunk of himself still in my head.
“Yeah, well. Needs must and all that,” I say. I might not have a first aid kit, but I think I saw some dental floss in the messenger bag. If I get some time I can always stitch it up with that later. Of course, that depends on what happens between now and later. “Thanks for the assist, by the way.”
“Just because I have a vested interest, doesn’t mean I’m getting in the way of a fight. Come on. We won’t have much time until they wake up. And then there’s going to be a lot of noise.”
“Even this guy?” I say nudging the warrior with the pulped skull with my foot.
“Even him. Might take a him a little while, though. And the guys you shot. And the others who you crushed with the street. Come on.” He steps to the edge of the building and raises his arms. Loose stones, dirt and sticks from the street down below rise up and interconnect, mashing themselves together until there’s a bridge of debris going from one building to the next. He walks across it to the other roof.
“Wish I’d known that trick,” I say, eyeing the structure and pushing my foot against it. It looks like it’s going to disintegrate in a stiff breeze, but it feels solid enough.
“You do know that trick,” he says. “It’d just be a real bad idea for you to try it. Just like it was a bad idea for you to use that trick with the street.”
“I didn’t do that. It just happened.”
“Sure. That’s up there with, ‘I just fell on it, doc’. It’s a miracle you didn’t turn into a statue right then and there. Now come on. I can’t hold this thing forever.” I hurry across and the moment I step onto the other roof the bridge collapses behind me.
“All right, now what?” Mictlantecuhtli does his trick again and we walk quickly to another roof. He’s visibly straining each time he does it.
“Now we get you into the palace so you can get my knife back. Then you go stab my ex-wife. Speaking of which, how come you didn’t when you had the chance? I was watching you when she showed up. You had a perfect shot.”
“With a dozen armed warriors surrounding me? Seriously?”
“Still think it was a missed opportunity.”
“Whatever. Probably should have stuck with the warriors. I was on my way there, already.”