Infernal Games (Templar Chronicles Urban Fantasy Series) Read Free Page A

Martinez, one of the men under his command. With a nod to the
others, he started down.
    Less than five minutes later Riley and his
three companions stood on the floor of the ravine, staring at the wreckage of
the bus. The partially caved in roof, as well as the various dents and scrapes
that bore evidence to the bus’ unexpected journey down the hillside were
expected, but the massive rips in the metal, rips that looked suspiciously like
giant claw marks, were not.
    The sight of them gave Riley pause.
    The advance team had confirmed that the
vehicle in the ravine was the long-overdue bus, but had not ventured down to
the ravine floor to look for survivors. Riley’s first instinct was to rush
forward and see if there was anyone left alive in the wreckage, but he quelled
the notion before acting on it.
    By the book, he reminded himself.
    The men, including Riley, were dressed in
standard Templar tactical gear that included dark ceramic body armor worn under
black jumpsuits of flame retardant material without markings or insignia,
lightweight Kevlar tactical helmets with built-in communications gear along
with audio and video recording devices, and military style combat boots. Each
man was armed with a Heckler & Koch MP5 SD submachine gun, a HK Mark 23 .45
caliber handgun and the holy sword they’d been given at their investiture into
the Templar ranks. Not wanting to give their exact positions away by speaking,
Riley ignored the tactical communications gear and used hand signals instead,
sending Ortega and Simmons toward the front of the vehicle while he and
Martinez headed for the rear, their weapons out and at the ready.
    The bus had landed right side up and
perpendicular to the slope of the hill so that they were approaching it from
the passenger side. They moved forward cautiously, their gaze jumping from the
shadows around the bus to the darkened interior and back again, as they watched
for movement. So far there hadn’t been any sign of the transport team or their
passenger, which Riley found unsettling.
    If this bastard is loose again...
    The newly fallen snow crunched underfoot as
they rounded the side of the bus and got their first look at the back of the
vehicle. Beside him, Riley heard Martinez gasp aloud and he nearly did the
same.
    The back end of the bus had been peeled open
like a tin can, the jagged edges of the newly-torn steel shining in the
darkness. Just inside the vehicle, the shattered remains of the prisoner’s
enclosure reflected the light of their flashlight beams back at them and they
could see that the arcane symbols filigreed into the depths of the glass had
been burned black from a surge of power strong enough to overwhelm their
protections.
    That was all Riley needed to see to know that
the Necromancer had, indeed, escaped.
    “Cover me,” Riley said and moved forward to
the back of the bus. He could see Ortega and Simmons entering the vehicle from
the front and felt confident enough to sling his weapon and use his hands to
boost himself up into the back of the bus.
    As he climbed to his feet, he saw Ortega
shine his flashlight on a seat closer to the front and then stiffen in
surprise.
    “What have you got?” Riley called.
    “Blood,” the other man said. “A lot of it,
too.”
    Riley moved forward and added the beam of his
flashlight to those of the other man.
    Ortega was right; there was a lot of it. It
had splashed across the seats and pooled on the floor, then froze in a wide
puddle that reflected the light with a ruby red glow. But there was just
blood, nothing more.
    If the men were injured, where had they gone? Riley wondered. If they were dead, what happened
to their bodies?
    “Spread out and search the area around the
bus. Look for bloodstains, tracks, anything to indicate where they might have
gone,” Riley ordered.
    Fifteen minutes later they had nothing to
show for their efforts but a chill that went deeper than the evening’s coldness.
    The missing men had seemingly