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Disclaimer: Characters from Buffy the Vampire Slayer and Angel: the Series are property of Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, Kuzui Enterprises, Sandollar Television, the WB, and UPN.

Part V

“This is going too fast,” Dustin protested. “We need to slow down a minute, think this through —”

“No more waiting,” Doc said flatly. He belted on the sheathed machete, and began to work at pulling back the cocking lever on the crossbow. “I tried to play it cautious, and now my daughter is gone. It’s time for action, time for us to move.”

“Sure, but move where?” Dustin shook his head. “We don’t know any more than we did, don’t have any idea where to start.”

“We start by getting off our asses.” Andy fed shells into the magazine of a pump shotgun, then dropped fistfuls of spare shells into his jacket pockets. “And maybe we’d have a location if you two had thought to capture one of those demons for interrogation, instead of just hacking them up to show how heroic you are.”

Buffy made a derisive sound. “Oh, you are just so full of it. Capture one? Sure, if we had forty feet of chain and an engine block to chain him to. Besides, that type, not really known for conversational skills. Even the ones that can talk at all don’t respond too well to torture, pain generally gets them really PO’d.”

“We’ll go back to where you fought them,” Doc announced. “You said the smaller demons ran away. Maybe they left tracks, or maybe we can fan out and spot them, follow them back to wherever they’ve been hiding. It’s all we have to go on, and we have to do something now.”

“No,” Andy said. “We’ll go to see Wayne McMillan.” Doc stopped, fixed him with a glare, and Andy forged on. “Think about it, Doc. Track demons through the middle of town, at night? None of us are hunters. What Buffy said about cursed ruins, that’s the closest thing we have to a solid lead, and Wayne’s the most likely guy to have heard of something like that. He’s the man we need to see.”

“How’d the Midget get grabbed, anyhow?” Buffy wanted to know.

“I don’t know.” Doc put down the crossbow, his hands shaking. “I didn’t hear anything, I had no idea … Andy went back to the motel to pick up Judith’s day planner and some other papers, and Katie and I went to my office for the schedules and appointments Judith had posted for me, then we came back here … I had it spread out on the dining table, trying to sort it into some order while we waited for Andy to get back, and I started to ask Katie something but she wasn’t there, and that’s when I went looking for her, and found the back door open, and … and one of her shoes …” He slammed his closed fists down onto the tabletop, and again, and a third time, then looked at them with tears streaming down his face. “They took my daughter, they stole my little girl, and I didn’t even know!”

“Back door, huh?” Buffy stood up. “Show me where that is.”

Doc led the way, hope warring on his face with the fear of daring to hope. At the door itself he didn’t say anything, but only made a vague gesture and waited for the Slayer’s reaction. Buffy studied the scene, then ostentatiously sniffed the air. “Hmm,” she said. “Just a whiff there, but yes, it’s from one of the oinkers. You know, the things that killed the horse.”

Doc sagged, but he wouldn’t turn away. “Do you think they —?”

“Don’t know.” She shook her head. “No blood spilled. And before you ask, no, I can’t trail them, the scent’s way too faint.” She tilted an uncharitable smile toward Andy. “It’s a wonder I can pick it up at all, over that cheap after-shave of yours. What, do you marinate in the stuff?”

“That’s it, then,” Andy said. “We go to Wayne.”

Buffy regarded him with one eyebrow up. “So you’re the leader now? Funny, I don’t remember that happening.”

“Doc wants to move now,” Andy replied. “And I agree, and Wayne’s our best avenue, unless you can suggest something.”

“Not me, no,” Buffy said. “I just want to be sure you don’t think you’re giving me orders, because that never goes well.”

“I’ll call Wayne,” Doc said, and started for the phone.

“Better if we just showed up,” Andy observed. “Brace him face-to-face. Over the phone … well, you never want to give Wayne too much wiggle-room.”

“I’ll call,” Doc repeated, and punched in the numbers.

There was no answer at the man’s house; after a quick check of the telephone directory, Doc tried the listed office number and cell phone, got a recorded message at both. “That doesn’t make sense,” Doc said, hanging up. “What kind of realtor turns off his cell phone? Especially one as sale-hungry as Wayne?”

“He’s been fixing up new offices in that auction barn he bought,” Andy mused. “You know, the big expansion he’s always going on about. If he’s working there tonight, well, sometimes the power lines mess with cell reception.”

“All right, we’ll go there.” Doc looked to the Slayer. “I’m not ordering you, we all know I couldn’t enforce any such order. But the rest of us are going. I hope you’ll come with us.”

Buffy shrugged. “Sure, why not? It’s your deal; if the guy can’t tell you anything, I’m still getting paid.”

The weapons were loaded into Doc’s pickup truck, a Chevy S-10, and they started off, the Slayer choosing again to ride behind Dustin on his motorcycle. “So what’s Andy’s major grudge against this Duane character?” she asked as they followed the truck.

“Wayne?” Dustin thought about it. “I don’t really know. Katie talked about it a lot, she’s got this mother-fixation with Andy’s wife, and she thought Wayne had done them dirty on some deal … umm, they were going to buy some property next to the motel, beef up the operation, I don’t remember the details. Wayne was handling the sale, but then he chased up a better offer and the property went to somebody else. Andy’s been down on the guy ever since, maybe because Wayne’s business is booming while Andy’s still trying to make ends meet.”

“Huh,” Buffy said, but didn’t offer any further commentary.

The location where they stopped at last was just at the edge of the city limits, well distant from any houses and other structures; the auction barn was dark and closed, but as Justin pulled the motorcycle to a halt, Doc was standing outside his truck, saying to Andy, “All right, his car is here. Let me talk to him, I know you’re not on good terms but I think he’ll listen to me —”

Buffy broke in. “Load up on weapons. Now.”

Andy moved instantly to comply, grabbing the shotgun and a second belted machete, but Doc just stared at her. “I don’t want to alarm him,” he said. “If I go in armed for war, he might think I’ve lost my mind —”

“Excuse me,” she said. “Slayer talking here? Look, when I sliced up the big brawny demons tonight, the oinkers went scampering off, right? And Dustin cut one of them as it ran past him. Well, there’s an oinker blood-trail leading straight to that building — not blood, actually, but close enough — and if they all took off for home when they got scared, well, this is home. So weapons, already.”

“I knew it,” Andy said. “I knew Wayne’s luck had gotten too good all of a sudden! That’s it, Doc, that’s what’s been happening: Wayne has been using these demons to make people sick with mysterious diseases, and then piling up commissions when they have to sell their property to cover medical bills!” He shoved a camp hatchet into his belt, and racked the slide of the shotgun. “He’s the one behind all of this!”

“Whoa,” Dustin said. “An evil real estate agent? Next we’ll have used car salesmen trying to get in on the action.”

“That’s just in the big cities,” Buffy said. “And it’s luxury cars, evil is one thing but nobody wants to be tacky. Okay, spread out, people, we’ll find a rear entrance —”

Doc got back into his truck, started the engine, and gunned the vehicle directly at the main doors.

“— or, we could do that,” the Slayer finished, just before the truck hit.

They were big doors, and heavy, and the S-10 was a relatively light vehicle; still, mass and acceleration were in Doc’s favor, and by luck or design he had aimed directly at the juncture where the two doors met. The impact buckled one door and slammed the other completely out of the sliding track that had supported it, and the truck came to rest in the gap between them, hissing steam billowing from the ruptured radiator. Cushioned by the driver’s-side air bag, Doc was out and pushing into the barn’s interior by the time the others reached the new opening.

Buffy stopped beside the truck, began foraging inside. “Fine, don’t bother to wait,” she said. “We’ll see how you do without me.” She held up a double-bladed axe, a lumberjack’s tool rather than a proper battle-axe, and demanded of Andy, “Where did you get this junk?”

“Where do you think?” Andy retorted. “Medieval weapons aren’t in big supply around here. I picked up what I could find at Home Depot.”

“Wonderful.” She hefted the axe appraisingly, glanced toward the barn’s interior as the boom of a shotgun echoed from inside. “Well, it’ll have to do. Come on, guys, let’s go be cavalry.”

Though it was called a barn because of its former function, the building was a metal structure that would have served perfectly in an industrial park. Frameworks on the interior allowed it to be subdivided into partitioned sections, but at present it was all open area. Doc was partway up a set of stairs at one side; two of the soldier demons lay twitching behind him, and he cut down another with a shotgun blast as Buffy and the two men fanned out inside the entrance created by the pickup. More of the larger demons were beginning to emerge from darkened offices and storage spaces, and Buffy commanded briskly, “Back him up. I’m going to look for the big boss and the missing womenfolk.”

”What —?” Andy began, but she was already gone, a long leap carrying her to the second level of the walkway that ran around the inner wall of the building. She stepped back inside one of the doorways, found an angle with a good view, and settled back to watch.

Neither Andy nor Dustin lacked for courage. After his initial hesitation, Andy advanced, firing the second shotgun, picking his targets and inserting fresh shells into the tubular magazine as opportunity allowed, never letting the weapon go empty. Dustin, carrying the crossbow Doc had left in the truck, moved more slowly, aimed more carefully, and twice had to fight with the katana when one of the soldier demons charged him before he could reload.

They were working it smart, watching their positions, picking off the enemies that came their way and conserving their ammunition. Doc, in contrast, was a screaming maniac. He emptied the shotgun into the demons in front of him as he forced his way up the stairs; when it ran dry, he cast it away, snatched out the machete, and began cutting a path through the opposition. Older and less muscular than either of the other men, he hurled himself against his demon adversaries like a crazed Viking.

Watching, the Slayer hmph!ed in vexation. “Heroes,” she muttered. “Always the same thing with freaking heroes.” The man was about to get himself thoroughly killed, and no way could she count on Andy to cover her fee if Doc kicked it. She sighed, took a good grip on the axe, and charged from her place of concealment.

The situation till now had been tenuous, Doc’s berserker onslaught serving both as the spearhead and the weak point of their group; if he fell, the attack would collapse. With Buffy’s entry into the fray, the balance swung sharply; now the demons on the walkway were caught between two forces, the ones on the main floor were all down, and Dustin and Andy moved up to join Doc. This suited the Slayer perfectly, no allies nearby to get shirty (she didn’t actually know what the word meant, but it felt right) if she didn’t watch exactly where she was swinging, so she laid about with vast cheer, and found to her delight that the axe’s longer handle more than made up for the narrower blades. She hewed in all directions, exulting in the glory of slaughter, laughing and hacking gaily.

A shout caught her attention: Andy, gesturing urgently, and she looked at where he was pointing and at the other side of the building a man in a beige jacket was hurrying along the second-level walkway. As he stumbled momentarily, Buffy saw that he wasn’t alone; he was trying to shove a dark-haired woman ahead of him, she resisting as vigorously as she could with her hands bound behind her. Doc shouted, “Judith!” and broke away from the fight on the walkway to run in the opposite direction, following the periphery of the walls in a route that would carry him to the other side of the upper square. That left Andy and Dustin facing the remaining demons, but those had been markedly thinned by the combined assault, so the Slayer abandoned her attack and mimicked Doc’s tactics, racing back along the walkway. At her speed, and with Judith hindering her captor’s flight, she’d overtake him in seconds … and, even if she didn’t reach him first, he’d be caught between her and Doc.

Best-laid plans, right. The fleeing man saw doom closing on him from two directions, dithered in agonized indecision … and out on the floor, Katie wandered into view, shaking her head dazedly, looked around, looked up, and blurted, “Dad?”

Three things happened then, very suddenly.

One: a pair of the demons who had been fighting Dustin and Andy on the walkway turned away from the struggle, hurdled the railing to land on the stairs, and started for Katie with snarls of bloodthirsty eagerness.

Two: the running man pushed Judith away from him, hard; she bellied over the railing, hooked a foot around one of the metal supports to keep herself from falling, and then cried out as her foot slipped and her body weight started to pull her over.

Three: Doc turned, jammed the gore-spattered machete through his belt, vaulted the railing, caught himself on the mesh flooring of the walkway, hung for a moment, and then dropped to the concrete below. His legs gave out beneath him, but he was back on his feet in an instant, and he charged to his daughter’s aid with a wordless roar of fury and desperation.

“Is this for real?” the Slayer asked of no one in particular. She reached out almost absently to catch Judith’s ankle as the other woman lost her last frantic purchase and began to fall; held her, boosted her back up over the rail, and lowered her to the walkway. “Wait there, okay? They’d be all kinds of torqued at me if I let you go splat on the pavement. Now, if you don’t mind —” And she was off again.

The fleeing man (evil realtor, had to be) had gained vital seconds from her pause to help Judith. It wasn’t nearly enough.

Andy found them in the corner stairwell, and advanced with shotgun leveled. “There you are! Time to close escrow, you double-dealing son of a …” He stopped, lowered the shotgun. “What the hell?”

Buffy looked over her shoulder at him, rubbing her mouth thoughtfully with the back of her hand. “Sorry to disappoint you, Sexy-Boy. Looks like Duane, here, ran out of luck.”

Andy stared at the vacant-eyed corpse sprawled in the stairwell. “What did you do to him?”

“Me?” Buffy pointed to the bloody wound at the man’s throat. “Those are bite marks. I’d say the vampire Doc’s been talking about caught up with Duane before you could.”

“I guess.” Andy’s expression, while grim, was recognizably a smile. “Tough for Duane — Wayne, I mean — but you won’t catch me crying about it.”

“Nope,” Buffy agreed. “I can tell you’re not really a sentimental kind of guy.”

Andy frowned slightly at her tone. “Okay, I know you mean something by that, but I don’t see —”

“Oh, for pete’s sake!” She put a hand on one hip, raked him with an exasperated look. “That little thing you keep forgetting, you just forgot it again. You know? The wife?”

Andy’s face went blank. “Oh, crap,” he said, and turned to dash back up the stairs.

“Let’s hear it for wedded bliss,” the Slayer said to the dead man, then moved without hurry to follow the suddenly concerned husband.

*                *               *

Hurry or not, she could track the proceedings well before she reached them, parahuman hearing being every bit as useful for eavesdropping as for the hunt. In the minute or so she’d been in the stairwell, the running fight apparently had been resolved, because all that remained was breathless conversation.

Dustin: “I’m sorry, babe, I got to you as quick as I could, it’s just, everybody else took off after Wayne, and there were still those three up on the walk — damn, I’m glad I had my swords with me —”

Katie: “It’s okay, I was okay, my dad was right there before I even knew to be scared … Did you see him, were you watching, he killed both of them with a machete —!”

Doc: “I left you, oh God, I’m sorry, I left you —!”

Judith: “Don’t —”

Doc: “I saw, I saw you about to go over, but I didn’t have a choice, I had to help her —!”

Judith: “I know. I know. Hush, it’s okay.”

Katie: “— it was horrific, he was bellowing and chopping all over the place, those things were twice his size and he just totally annihilated them —!”

Dustin: “Yeah, they were pretty tough, I gutted one right as he got his hands on me … well, his claws, you can see the rip in my shirt —”

Andy: “Hey, everybody okay out here?”

Doc: “— it was like I was being torn in two, I saw you and I saw her and I just … I just …”

Judith: “You went to your daughter. I saw. You went right over, you never hesitated.”

Doc: “… it felt like I stood there forever, like I was frozen …”

Judith: “You didn’t. You weren’t. I saw it. They went after her, and you went after them, faster than I can even say it. It was … I still can’t believe it.”

Doc: “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I left you there, I’m sorry —!”

Judith: “No. NO. Don’t apologize, Douglas. Never apologize for that. You did what you had to, what you were supposed to do.” (more softly) “I wouldn’t have expected anything less of you.”

Andy (loud and fake-cheery): “There you are, baby! It’s okay, I’m here. You can always count on me to be here. Some brawl, huh?”

“Throw him over the rail,” the Slayer said. They were too far away to hear her (and much too focused on each other), but she spoke as if standing next to them. “Just grab his ankles and heave, he’ll never see it coming. You want to, both of you, you know you do.”

If so, neither of them acted on the desire. She hadn’t expected they would, it was the whole excruciating hero mentality.

Knuckleheads.
 

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