Agents of the Demiurge by Brian Blose Read Free Book Online Page A

of
action.”
    Erik fought down a snarl before it could
reach his face. “Yes, sir.”
    “Hold out your hand, deputy.”
    When Erik complied, the Lieutenant
Investigator pulled his belt knife and sliced Erik's hand open.
Startled, Erik pulled his hand to his chest and turned to the door.
The Investigator and one of the senior deputies stood there, tasers
in hand. Erik licked his lips. “Are you going to kill me?”
    The Lieutenant Investigator gestured
impatiently at Erik's hand. “Show it to me.”
    “What?”
    “Your hand. Show it to me.”
    “Why?”
    “Because the Church has an Agent of the
Demiurge in custody. We learned a fascinating lesson from him.
Agents don't retain injury. Now show me your hand, deputy.”
    Erik spun to the door. He lifted his hands
into a boxer's pose, distracting the eyes of his adversaries, then
kicked the Investigator's groin, pivoted, and kicked again at the
other deputy's knee.
    He danced back to give himself space. Using
the pause in action, Erik ripped a network cable free and wrapped
it in each hand to create a rudimentary garrote.
    The thunderous report reached his ears at the
same time a stab of pain struck his chest. Erik's eyes registered
the Lieutenant Inspector holding a handgun, then darted down to
behold the bloody patch sitting center left on his chest. Based on
the rapid growth of the red shirt stain, either his pulmonary,
aorta, or heart itself had a giant hole in it.
    Erik tried to charge his adversary, but his
body refused to work right. While he liked to think himself immune
to psychological shock, the rapid drop in blood pressure had done
the deed. He collapsed to the ground.
    The Lieutenant Inspector's face radiated zeal
like an oven. “I got you, hated one. And you are going to suffer
for what your master has done. I will make sure of it.”
     
     

Chapter 8 – Hess / Iteration 145
    Hess bound the
Observer's body to a support pole in his basement using his belt
collection. One belt looped around her waist to hold her snug
against the pole. Another did the same for her feet. Hess used the
cloth belt of a bathrobe to tie her bony wrists together behind her
back.
    When the Observer's neck mended, her pale
eyes blinked and her emaciated form tugged against the restraints.
Hess studied the figure, watching for any telltale quirks. Who was
it? He wasn't sure what he would do if this was Ingrid or Erik.
Torture wasn't something he had ever done. He preferred to keep
that particular activity on the never ever list. But killing an
Observer wasn't possible. Maybe torture was the only way to deal
with his opponents. It might even force a touch of empathy into
them. Maybe some torture now would make the next world a better
place.
    The waif stared back at him, then blew out a
breath. “Hess.”
    He still had no idea who this was. “And you
are?”
    “Jerome,” said the woman.
    He had known Jerome for less than an hour,
during a time when he was operating at less than his optimum.
“Prove it.”
    “I opened the sky for you last Iteration,
then you and Elza stayed behind.” The waif raised a brow. “How
about letting me go now?”
    Hess removed the bindings. “Didn't it occur
to you that I might not react well to an Observer knocking on my
door?”
    Jerome sighed. “I didn't even know for sure
an Observer lived here.”
    “I thought the Creator gave you a cheat sheet
telling you where the rest of us start off every Iteration.”
    “Oh, the Creator did,” Jerome said. “Only
those memories are about as reliable as any others this
Iteration.”
    “Well, it's nice to know the Creator isn't
playing favorites.” Hess gestured towards the stairs. “As much as
I'm enjoying your visit, I need to prepare for an important dinner.
Could you come back tomorrow?”
    Jerome shook her head. “We have an emergency
situation.”
    “Is the Church after you?”
    Her eyes grew distant. “Worse. I think we've
splintered the Creator.”
     
     

Chapter 9 - Erik / Iteration