"Yeah," Tony admitted thoughtfully, "I guess so." Then he thought of something.

"Company's coming," Death announced quietly. "Well, well, well."

This got Tony's attention. "Who?"

"You'll see."

"Oh, don't do that man. Tell me. I only just f.u.c.kin fought off a mess of dead-heads!"

That caused Death to reconsider. "Well, let's just say, I know why they retreated when they had us."

"Why?"

Though it was still dark in the cabin, Death levelled a look of annoyance in Tony's direction. "Nag, nag, nag."

The storm seemed to intensify, and soon Lucy found herself stumbling along the winter road, the snow now up to her knees and getting deeper. Somewhere along the way, Danny had stopped in his tracks until she reached him. Then, without a word, he lifted her up out of the snow. He hunched his shoulders and focused on the thin beam of light that lit the narrow road.

"I can walk," Lucy managed to get out through chattering teeth.

But Danny did not respond. He fell in behind the others with his bare head bowed against the wind. The wind shrieked and blew ice and snow into their faces, stinging them. Crew swore over and over that if he didn't die of exposure, he was moving permanently to Costa Rica. The Stickman merely peeped up every now and again, wondering how the h.e.l.l the funny looking guy managed to know where they were all going. The man had taken the flashlight away from the Newfoundlander just minutes ago, causing him to jump in fright. There was no word of warning, the flashlight was simply s.n.a.t.c.hed away. There was something terrifying about him. But so far, he had not led them astray, so that was fine by Stick. And as bad as the weather was, Stickman knew they were sheltered a little by the tall black evergreens on either side of them. If the trees weren't there, the wind would slash them all to frozen strips of meat.

But none of them spoke a word to Fear.

They were scared to.

They marched on for a spell of time that none of the men were able to gauge. They wore watches, but the time seemed to be slowed by the cold just as their limbs had been.

Then, the walls of trees on either side of them fell away, and the ground became more open. The wind howled in their faces, no longer held back by the wilderness. Out of the gloom and half buried in snow came a two-storey log cabin.

Stickman smiled weakly, feeling how cold his face had become. Then, his eyes squinted up in numb puzzlement.

The snow surrounding the cabin was stomped down. Stickman could make out tracks coming from all directions and converging on the cabin. It was starting to fill in, again, but it was flattened enough to make Stickman think of a concert crowd mobbing the stage. Then, he saw what looked to be the huge rotting carca.s.s of the biggest bear he had had ever laid eyes on. It was trampled flat, like a rug, but there was no mistaking the shape.

"What da f.u.c.k?" he muttered to himself.

Fear was the first to reach the door. He pounded on its surface. "Open the f.u.c.k up!"

There was no sound from within, and the Stickman, standing still as he was, slowly gained a greater appreciation as to how cold it was. When he was moving, there wasn't any problem, but now, the air crept inside his coat and clothes and numbed his flesh like bare ice. He remembered a book he had read, "Death on the Ice", which told the true story of a crew of Newfoundland seal hunters who lost their lives on an Atlantic ice patch. Separated from their vessels during a snow storm and caught on the open ice with no shelter, seventy eight men had frozen to death during the night. The Stickman could not remember all the details of the tragedy, but he remembered the author's descriptions of men sitting upright on the ice, frozen in place in the morning light. He thought he was beginning to understand how such a thing could happen. His limbs, face and especially his b.a.l.l.s, all felt frost gnawed.

The door opened a crack, and Tony Levin stuck his head out. The flashlight lit up his features in a ghoulish way, and he shied away from its brightness. "f.u.c.k off with the light," he swore, his hands going up.

The Stickman held his breath. This was the man he had hunted for. His mind screamed at him to do something, and yet, he knew his current companions would not allow him his revenge. Taking a breath, the Stickman gave a little contented smile, and imprinted Tony's face in his mind. His time would come. Badger would have his pound of owed flesh.

Fear spoke, "You gonna let us in, d.i.c.khead?"

Tony's hands dropped. He studied Fear for a moment and grinned.

"Hey, Frank," Tony abruptly called out. "f.u.c.khead Freddy just showed up on our doorstep!"

"Tony!" Lucy cried out, clutching herself against the cold and beaming at him. Tony blinked in shock. Lucy was the last person he had expected. The sight of her lifted his spirits like only love could.

"Lucy," Tony answered, suddenly breathless. "Wow."

Fear rolled his eyes. "Outta my way, f.u.c.k nuts," he growled, pushing his way past the Halifax man.

He had no time for budding romances.

It turned his guts.

Chapter 68.

Far beyond the circle of light supplied by the flashlight and hidden by the gusting winds and sheets of snow, Grey Northman stood and watched the group he had followed through the freezing night. He was coated in frost, red eyed, grimacing at the numbness in his limbs and the hatred for his quarry. The wind lashed around him, but he did not waver. He was a rock in its fury. He watched them all enter the dwelling. The door closed. The castle had been sealed. The defenders were within.

"How many of you are there?" Northman hissed, eyes unblinking as the water in them had long since frozen.

From the darkness, a figure shuffled near. The cold air lessened the stink of dead flesh, but there was still enough for Northman to notice. He did not turn to address the creature. There was no need. He had sensed them and sought them out as soon as he had arrived. He knew what they were. And he knew how to control them.

"Many," came the same voice that had bartered with Tony earlier.

That was good. Northman would need every last one of them for the battle to come. "Why do you wait?" he wanted to know.

The Speaker for the Dead took its time in answering. "We... feared..."

This made sense to Grey Northman. The creature talked about the Ent.i.ties.

"I will take care of that," Northman promised. He had been granted powers to combat such fear.

There was a pause from the Speaker for the Dead. "You?"

"Yes," Grey Northman hissed, and allowed the dead to feel a surge of the power that his Lord had given him. The corpse stiffened with the energy. If it could draw breath, the Speaker for the Dead would have choked in shock and awe. In that moment, the undead knew its place. It knew the Northman was its new master. It's general.

"Gather your host 'round," Northman commanded, the snow swirling about both of them and the winds as loud as horns.

"Do as I say..." the Minion bared his teeth in the storm's fury. "And I will give you your revenge."

Chapter 69.

They quickly barricaded the door as best as they could with the wood and nails that remained. It was cold inside, but at least they were out of the freezing wind. They crowded in the s.p.a.ce that was the living room, with the exception of Lucy and Tony, who moved around the sofa that separated the living room from the open kitchen. The new arrivals were quick to size up the interior of the cabin. And the lounging Death on the L-shaped sofa. The Stickman broke the silence when, upon seeing the sprawled out form with an empty bottle of Jack Daniels, stated in a voice still frosty from the cold, "Oo daf.u.c.k's ee?"

That earned him black looks from both Danny and Crew.

Fear ignored the man. He zeroed in on Death. Lucy, standing next to Tony in the open kitchen, placed both hands on the back of the sofa and gazed down at the missing sailor.

"What happened?" she asked in a dismayed voice. "What happened to you?"

Death waved his hand in the air. "Minions. f.u.c.kin' c.o.c.kroaches. Jumped me in Paradise. They piled us both into a car and drove us here, except I got p.i.s.sed off and wasted them."

Fear listened to Death and studied him with his dark, almond-shaped eyes.

"There were more," Lucy said. "We ran into some back on the highway. It's a whole nest."

"I knew about them" Death said in a low voice. "There's one more. He's outside now. Marshalling the troops. Looks like there's going to be a war. Right here." He considered Fear. "Took you long enough."

"See what I'm working with?" came the disgusted reply.

"What's this about the troops?" Tony threw in. "You mean they're coming back?"

"Who's coming back?" Lucy wanted to know.

"The dead." Tony breathed, and Lucy's expression gave way to astonishment.

"How did that happen?" she asked. Death rolled his head on his shoulders. It was all he needed to have Lucy p.i.s.sed off at him. He knew her dark side.

"I was unconscious, see," he explained to both Fear and Lucy, "When I took out the Minions, we were in a moving car at the time."

"We saw the car," Lucy replied.

"Yeah, well, I went through the windshield and royally f.u.c.ked up my legs. Had to get Tone to knock me out before you-know-who arrived. The p.r.i.c.ks who took us had this spinal anaesthetic. Tone shot me up with the s.h.i.t, and here I am. Under siege by a bunch of G.o.dd.a.m.n corpses. They almost had me, too, except they f.u.c.ked off when you guys got close." Death gave Fear a sly nod. "Mr. Magic here."

If Fear was responsible for the ma.s.s retreat, he gave no indication. He merely kept on listening.

"So, you can't feel a thing now?" Lucy said.

"Nah," Death answered her. "'Cept the sting of the cuts and bruises. But I have booze here to dull that pain, so I'm good."

"How long does this painkiller last?"

"Probably not much longer. I'd say I'll be feeling everything there is by morning. Broke both legs, you know. f.u.c.k knows what else down there."

"How did you get here?" Tony interrupted.

"By car," Lucy answered.

Hope blossomed in Tony face. "Where is it? How far from here?"

"n.o.body's getting to the car," Fear told him cryptically. "Not with the snow falling and those things outside. Snow's probably buried it anyway."

"We can dig it out, man!" Tony almost screamed. "You brought the three amigos here! We can dig it out in no time!"

They did not answer him. Instead, they stood looking dismally at Death's broken legs under the blanket. They were on a timer, and they knew it.

"We wouldn't make it," Fear stated. "

"He's right," Lucy said. "And there's more out there now than just the undead. Pain is here."

"Pain?" Tony's browed scrunched up in puzzlement.

"I knows ee," Stickman said quietly. Danny flicked a dirty look at him. The Stickman stood in a corner of the living room, facing Danny and the other man he did not know. He had a good guess as to why he was here.

"Pain," Tony repeated dully. "Who's he?"

"He's the reason I had you knock me out," Death said from the couch. "He's the one that wants me to stay as I am so he can enjoy his playtime... which is making Mundanes suffer."

"Why?" Tony asked trying hard to understand.

"No reason," Death shrugged. "He's got no reason at all. It's just his nature. His existence. He exists to make you-all of you-suffer all the way to the end. And he's got free reign now. He can f.u.c.k up people as he pleases. Whoever and whenever someone gets hurt."

"Even you?" Tony asked, looking down on the figure on the couch.

"Yeah," Death grumbled. "Especially me. If I feel enough, he'll be drawn to it, and he'll do a dance on me just cuz of who I am."

"Why?" Tony needed to know.

"Because I'm the one that ends his fun all the time. When I take people away, whatever pleasure he gets from making them suffer, ends. I'm the party p.o.o.per. I s.h.i.t in his bed. And he hates my guts for it far more than these two," he nodded at Lucy and Fear.

From where they stood blocking the door, Crew and Danny exchanged curious looks. What had they walked into here? Danny held up his hand.

"Excuse me," he said in a deep voice "but, what are you talk"

"None of your G.o.dd.a.m.n business," Fear said and sent enough fright through Danny to silence him. But instead of falling to the floor as Fear had expected, the big man merely flinched.

"Will you stop that!" Lucy yelled. She had blocked Fear again. "Can't you see we're going to need them?"

Fear's face contorted into disgusted realization. "Well, s.h.i.t."

"Why, oh s.h.i.t?" Tony demanded. "I mean I found him, right? Why can't we call Time now? Huh? Why do you need us?"

"To cover my getaway," Death muttered. "Look," Death said directly to Tony, "the vacation's over. I would've done it anyway. I've done it before."

"Done what?" Tony asked in growing horror.

"Commit suicide."