Page 257 - Hunter - The Vigil

cell phone camera. The women were cowering beneath the corpse-draped table with their hands over
their faces, held at bay by the .45 automatic held loosely in the reporter’s left hand.
gun?”
Vince’s eyes went wide. He stuck his head inside the room. “Where the hell did you get that
The reporter shot Gabreski an irritated look. “The gun shop. Where did you get yours?”
“Time to go, smartass,” Vince fi red back. “We’ve worn out our welcome.”
Karl snapped one more picture and backed quickly out of the room. Vince grabbed him by the arm
and together they hustled out of the room and back into the echoing stairwell.
Shrieks of anger and pain chased after them as they fl ed into the night.

Vince caught up to Raimundo just as they reached the van. He grabbed the kid by the shoulders
old man?”
and bounced him hard off the vehicle’s side. “Who the hell said you could go in there and shoot that
Raimundo whirled about and tried to push back, but he might as well have been shoving at a
me?” “You should have let us handle it,” Gabreski said, but the protest was half hearted at best.
wall. “Motherfuckers owed me for Manuel!” he snapped. “What was I supposed to do, let him shoot

He honestly didn’t know what to think anymore. The vision of those snarling kids still haunted
him. Were they kids? Were they even human? He had no idea.

Karl was standing off to one side, keying frantically on his cell phone. Jack had his back to the
van’s passenger door, his face drawn with pain. Andrea stepped between Vince and Raimundo and pulled
exposed out here.”
open the van’s cargo door. “If you lovers want to keep fi ghting, do it inside,” she said. “We’re too
Gabreski gave her a look, but he had to agree — they were vulnerable. He climbed into the van and
was glad to shut the door on the world outside.
“Well, that was a fucking waste of time,” Raimundo said. “What now?”
wanted weren’t there.”
Vince put away his gun and rubbed his eyes, trying to banish his fatigue. “The Russians we
“And how do you know that?” the gang leader said with a sneer.

Gabreski glared at the kid. “You think guys like that hide behind old men and kids? No way.”
Vince thought over what he’d seen in the apartment, and nodded. “They’ll be here soon, though. We
gave their nest a good kick, and they’ll come running as soon as they fi nd out.” He pointed at the
driver’s seat. “Get behind the wheel,” he told Raimundo. “We need to change position in case one
of the people upstairs saw where we went.”
Andrea fumbled around in the back of the van and held the half-empty bottle of rum to Jack. “You
think there’s a third location?” she asked Vince.
Gabreski nodded. “Must be. They can’t go back to the warehouse; it’s crawling with uniforms by
now. And they didn’t run back here. They’ve got someplace else where they’re holing up.”
Karl’s phone chimed. The sound was absurdly cheerful in the icy darkness of the van. Vince
glared at the reporter. “What the hell was that all about back there?” he said.
“That picture? On the wall in that fucked-up room? I swear I’ve seen it before.” He stared
intently at the phone’s tiny screen and his fi ngers danced on the tiny keys as he sent another text
message. “I sent the photo to a guy I know, asking for confi rmation.” There was another chime, and
Karl’s eyes widened. “I knew it. I fucking knew it.”
Suddenly Karl had everyone’s undivided attention. Vince felt a creeping sense of dread. I laughed
at this kid for years, he thought. And it turns out he was right all along.
“Care to let the rest of us in on the joke?” Vince said.
Karl ran a hand through his hair and leaned back against the side of the van, his eyes closed
in concentration. “Khaurov,” he said. “Maxim Vladimirovitch Khaurov. A sorcerer, supposedly, who
was hounded out of Moscow by Ivan the Terrible in 1550. Before that, he’d been an advisor to the
Muscovite Princes for…well, a hell of a long time.” When the reporter opened his eyes again, his
expression was haunted. “It’s said he could foretell the future, and could bring down curses on
Moscow’s enemies. In exchange for human sacrifi ces.”
“People were sacrifi ced to him?” Vince said. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”
“Not to him directly,” Karl replied. “He claimed to have entered into a pact with the denizens of the
underworld — demons, basically — who shared their knowledge with him in exchange for human fl esh.”
Gabreski stole a glance at Andrea and Jack. From the looks on their faces, he could tell they were
thinking back to the horrors they’d seen at the warehouse. “So, what happened to this guy?” he asked.