Previously on RUNNER RAMIREZ & THE RACETRACK FROM HELL…
Runner visited a secret speakeasy in an old industrial warehouse complex. He spotted the official from the track directing a woman to take a short man down into the bowls of the building. After overhearing that a couple other guys went missing after meeting the same woman Runner decides to follow the short man to investigate.
And now…
Runner Ramirez & the Racetrack from Hell
By Tyler Tarlton
Chapter 5
The space beyond consisted of a short hallway that led to yet another staircase. This place seemed to be full of those things. I went down the steps two at a time only to reach a door. Past this lay yet another hallway and yet another door. This place was a blasted maze. Wasn't sure why the woman took the guy so far away but I was about to find out.
I reached this next door and stopped. A voice drifted through the wood from whatever room lay beyond. Almost sounded like a chant. In my experience chants were rarely a good thing. For me they were just a portent of more evil. A strange smell also entered my nose. Something I had smelled before...something that started up the shocks along my spine.
With my breath held I eased the door open and peeked around. The room was what you called medium in size with piles of junk scattered all over the area nearest me. In fact, it looked like everything had been shoved from the main part of the room to the near wall. Halfway across were a couple rows of torches much like those seen in the forest. Beyond which stood the short man He leaned against the far wall and was, well, engaged in a serious make-out session with the woman.
After a few moments, the woman stepped back. The man, with a hungry look in his eyes, stepped forward to pursue but was suddenly slammed back into the wall. Without being touched. I watched as the woman raised her arms and swing her hands back and forth. A mist dropped around her and suddenly...the Summoner stood in her place. Or more accurately, the woman morphed BACK into the Summoner. I wish I could say that was the strangest thing I had ever seen. He kept his arms raised as he looked upward. As he began to chant some indecipherable language, my 'friend' began to shoot shock waves up and down my back. They came so fast and jumbled I could not translate. I knew what was about to happen though. And I was going to stop it.
Now I know I probably already mentioned this but at the time of this story I had a pretty firm grasp of Morse code. I had learned it years before in Basic and had used it all throughout the war. Once I realized that's what my 'friend' was using it made everything much easier to understand. But his way of doing it was a little different, beside the fact he used shocks instead of sound, and I wasn't completely used to it yet. Had this encounter occurred a few years later...I would've avoided a lot of pain. Oh, and sorry if I repeat things sonny, one of the many side effects of having a demon inside you is a faulty memory. Or maybe it's just old age, I don't know.
As it were I didn't fully understand and rushed into the room to stop the Summoner from, well, summoning. I got past the row of torches when he noticed me.
A word about Summoners. The name implies they do nothing but summon. That is not accurate. They are basically full blown wizards who specialize in summoning. Like the fact a surgeon is still a doctor.
As you can tell I didn't know a lot at this particular point in time. I have become much more of an expert since then. If I could just go back and speak to my old self...but that is impossible since Fairweather screwed up and destroyed that time box. But that's a different story that's pretty hard to recount due to the extremely odd and unusual series of non-linear events that made up that adventure. I’ll get to it today eventually. Somehow.
Anywho, the fact I was rather ignorant is probably why I felt my 'friend' supply me with more power than usual. The Summoner spun and thrust both hands in my direction. I flew backwards, taking out several torches before I slammed into the side wall. Hard. Had it not been for the power boost then my spine/back would have most definitely been shattered. But instead I was able to roll back to me feet and dodge the next attack, a large fireball.
I ducked under a third and charged, yelling to the man as I did.
"Get outta here!!"
When the U.S. entered the Great War I followed a lot of my friends and signed up for the infantry. I survived boot camp, barely, and got shipped off to France. My time as a foot soldier did not even last to my first battle. I was a terrible fighter, as I've already mentioned, both with my gun and with my fists. Being a runner turned out to be the only thing they had for me to do. I excelled at that mainly because it did not involve any fighting at all. Now fighting a wizard is different from tangling with a thug or a prize fighter but most of the same instincts apply. Instincts I just didn't have. So basically the Summoner kicked my ass.
Not with his fists of course. Not directly anyway. After the first fireball the Summoner several more in my direction. Only the increased speed and reflexes made possible by my 'friend' kept me from getting fried. I rolled under yet another fireball when the Summoner decided to switch up tactics. He employed some sort of telekinesis to send an old table directly into my chest. That knocked me back a few feet and distracted me from the metal filing cabinet he sent at me next. It slammed into my upper body and sent me toppling over the table. I got up to my knees only for a typewriter to slam into my face. That one made me mad. I combined that anger with my 'friend's' help to surge to my feet, dodge a flying chair, and take a swing at the Summoner. He deflected that with a wave of his hand and to the floor I once again crashed.
I'll spare you the details of the rest of the fight. Basically I got in one half punch during the whole thing while the Summoner hit me with a variety of attacks and spells. Liked I said, I got my ass kicked. After about two minutes (only two minutes even though it felt like an eternity) he finally sent half the junk in the room my way, knocking me into the corner and burying me. I pushed an old cinder block away just as the Summoner ran out the door. The short man was nowhere in sight. In that moment my 'friend' withdrew his help, limited as it were in this instance, I don't know why, and boy did I feel the results of every attack thrown into me. I pushed myself into a seated position just as a series of shocks hit my spine. These I could clearly understand.
I was reminded that we weren't there to stop one possession but to stop them all. He needed to see the possession occur so he could know the specific demon at play. And how he could be stopped. Such knowledge could also help my 'friend' determine what these guys were up to in the first place. The shocks further told me that his earlier message, when I had first entered the room, had been for me to stop and not enter. Of course.
"You could've been killed," he said in a last bit of Morse. "And it wouldn't have been my fault."
Never mind everything that had happened to me over the past few years was directly related to his presence but I knew, despite how it sounded, that he did care whether or not I died; he would lose his hiding place after all. I knew I had screwed up though and apologized. If you didn't like to apologize to people just imagine doing it to a demon. Not fun. He went dark after that. I was pooped and starving. I needed food and a lot of sleep. I extricated myself from the junk pile and headed for the door. Had I not been so worn out I may have noticed the young man hiding in the corner, watching. Little did I know that person would change my life for years to come.
Quite the fight for Runner! And didn’t end on a positive note! What’s Runner’s next steps in this bizarre case? And who was watching him from the corner?? Find out next week in Chapter 6!