The church felt different now that it was empty. The warmth from before had turned into something oppressive and thick. The air felt heavy. David's footsteps echoed too loud as he walked through the main area, past all the empty pews, heading toward the stairs that led down to the lower level.
He could hear voices before he even reached the stairwell. Laughter. The sound of glasses clinking together. People having conversations in low tones that carried up through the building.
The stairwell itself was narrow and poorly lit. David went down slowly, taking his time with each step. The duffel bag felt heavier than it had before.
At the bottom was a set of double doors. Beyond them was the auction room, where seventeen men were waiting to buy human beings like they were pieces of furniture.
David stopped just outside the doors. He set the bag down and pulled out the body armor he'd bought in Newark, strapping it on under his jacket. It was heavy and uncomfortable but it might keep him alive for a few extra minutes. He checked his weapons. The Glock was still tucked in his waistband. He had spare magazines in his pockets. The AK-47 was loaded and ready, sitting at the top of the bag where he could grab it quickly.
'Alright. Let's finish this.'
He picked up the bag, pushed through the doors, and stepped inside.
The room was bigger than he'd expected. It had been set up to look upscale and expensive, like some kind of high-end venue instead of the basement of a church. Rows of chairs faced a small stage at the front. Crystal chandeliers hung from the ceiling, casting warm light across everything. There was a full bar set up along one wall with bottles of expensive liquor lined up behind it.
Seventeen men in tailored suits stood around the room, holding drinks and talking quietly among themselves. Security guards were positioned at each corner. David counted four of them right away, all armed, all watching the room with professional attention. There were probably more hidden somewhere.
'Four visible. Probably at least two more I can't see. Maybe more. Doesn't matter. They're all dying today.'
None of them had noticed him slip in through the side entrance yet.
David made his way up to the stage, moving casually like he belonged there. He set the duffel bag down behind the podium where it would be out of sight. Then he picked up the microphone that was sitting there waiting for Father Matthias.
He tapped it twice. The sound echoed through the room, sharp and clear.
Everyone stopped talking. Turned to look at him.
David smiled at them. "Good evening, gentlemen."
Confused murmurs started rippling through the crowd. A few of them were looking at each other, clearly wondering who he was and why he was on the stage instead of the priest they'd been expecting.
"I know you were all expecting Father Matthias," David said, his voice coming through calm and pleasant. "Unfortunately he's been tied up with something and can't make it. But don't worry. We're still going to proceed with tonight's event."
A man in the front row stood up. He looked like he was in his fifties, wearing a watch that probably cost more than most people's cars. His hairline was receding and he had the kind of face that was used to being in charge. "Who the hell are you?"
David tilted his head slightly, still smiling. "You know, I had this whole speech prepared. Was going to tell you all a story, really set the proper mood for the evening. But looking at you..." He paused, his smile fading. "You're all pretty boring, honestly. And I'm tired of wasting my time on boring people."
He reached down into the duffel bag.
"So instead, I brought you all a gift."
He pulled out the AK-47 and raised it up where everyone could see it clearly.
For one heartbeat, nobody moved. They just stood there staring at him, at the rifle in his hands, their brains trying to process what they were seeing and not quite managing it yet.
Then someone screamed.
The room erupted into chaos. Men were shouting, scrambling toward the exits in a panic. Chairs crashed over and got kicked aside. Glass shattered as drinks got dropped. Everyone trying to get to the doors at once, pushing and shoving each other out of the way.
The security guards were already pulling their weapons.
David raised the rifle and squeezed the trigger.
The first burst caught three men square in their chests. They dropped like their strings had been cut, blood spraying out across the chairs behind them in wide arcs. David swept the barrel to the left, firing in controlled bursts the way he'd practiced at the range for months. More bodies jerking and falling. More blood splashing across the walls and floor. More screaming.
Men were pounding on the exit doors now but they wouldn't open. The locks had engaged when David sent that text from Matthias's phone. They were trapped in here with him.
One of the security guards fired back. The round slammed into David's chest but the body armor caught it. The impact still knocked the air out of his lungs and he knew he'd have a massive bruise later, but he stayed on his feet.
'Thank god for Kevlar.'
He turned and put half the magazine into the guard's torso. The man went down hard, his gun clattering across the floor.
The other three visible guards opened fire. Bullets slammed into David's chest and shoulder. The armor held but pain exploded through his ribs anyway, white-hot and immediate. He dove behind the wooden podium as more rounds tore through the wood above his head, splinters raining down on him.
He grabbed a grenade from the bag, pulled the pin, and threw it toward where most of the guards were grouped up.
The explosion was deafening in the enclosed space. Fire and shrapnel tore through bodies. The blast wave shook the entire room, dust and chunks of ceiling falling down. Smoke filled the air, thick and acrid, making it hard to see or breathe.
Something heavy landed on the floor near David's foot with a wet thud.
He looked down.
An arm. Still had an expensive watch around the wrist. The fingers were twitching slightly.
David laughed. It came out short and sharp and maybe a little unhinged.
'Holy shit. I'm actually doing this. I'm actually killing all of them.'
He stood up and fired through the smoke. Two more guards went down before the rifle clicked empty. He let it drop and pulled out both handguns from his waistband, one in each hand.
A guard came rushing at him from the right side. David shot his knee out and the man went down screaming. David put two more rounds in his head as he fell.
Another explosion went off somewhere to his left. Someone had picked up one of the grenades and thrown it back at him. Heat washed over David's side and his ears started ringing, everything going muffled and distant. The smell of copper and burning filled his nose and throat.
A figure came limping through the smoke.
Mrs. Porter.
She had a pistol gripped in both hands, her arms shaking slightly as she pointed it at him. Her face was twisted up with rage. Blood had soaked through her floral dress in several places. Her gray hair had come completely loose from its bun and hung wild around her face.
"You stupid boy," she said, her voice coming out as a hiss.
David just stared at her for a moment.
'Mrs. Porter. Sweet Mrs. Porter who always smiled at me. Who told me I was a blessing. Who squeezed my arm and thanked me for helping out around the church.'
She fired.
The bullet caught him in the side, below where the body armor ended. Pain exploded through his ribs, white-hot and immediate. He staggered backward a step but managed to stay upright.
"Motherfucker," he said quietly.
He closed the distance between them fast, three quick steps, and slammed the grip of his gun into her face as hard as he could. There was a wet crunch as her nose shattered. She stumbled backward, blood pouring down over her mouth and chin.
David fired. Once. Twice. Three times. Four times.
Mrs. Porter collapsed onto the floor. Her body twitched once and then went completely still. Her eyes were open, staring at nothing.
David looked down at his side. Blood was soaking through his shirt, spreading fast and warm. He pressed his hand against the wound to try and slow the bleeding.
'Keep moving. You're not done yet. Just keep moving.'
More guards appeared through the smoke. David fired both handguns until they clicked empty. He dropped them and grabbed the shotgun from the bag, pumping it once.
The boom when he fired was massive in the enclosed space. The guard's chest opened up, ribs visible through the torn flesh and fabric. He flew backward into the wall and left a long red smear as he slid down.
David pumped the shotgun and fired. Pumped and fired. Each shot dropping another body.
A bullet hit his shoulder. Then another one hit his thigh, below where the armor protected. His leg buckled and he had to catch himself against the wall to keep from going down. He left a bloody handprint on the white paint.
'How many left? Have to be getting close to the end.'
Six guards formed up in a semicircle around him, all with their weapons aimed directly at his head. Professional stance, professional grip, professional spacing. These weren't amateurs.
David dropped the shotgun. It clattered when it hit the blood-slicked floor.
He just stood there, swaying slightly on his feet. Blood was running down his arm from the shoulder wound. Running down his leg from the thigh. Pooling around his feet. His breathing came in short, ragged gasps.
'This is it. This is how it ends.'
One of the guards stepped forward slightly. "Get on your knees."
David smiled. He could taste blood on his teeth. "No."
They all fired at once.
The bullets hit him like hammers. His chest. His stomach. His legs. The body armor caught some of them but not nearly all of them. David fell backward and his head cracked hard against the floor. The ceiling swam above him, everything blurring at the edges of his vision.
He could feel his heartbeat slowing down, getting weaker with each beat. Could feel the warmth spreading out beneath him as his blood pooled on the floor.
His hand fumbled in his pocket until his fingers closed around the detonator. It was slick with his own blood, hard to grip.
'Lillian. I kept my promise. I got every single one of them. All of them are dead.'
He pressed the button.
The explosions came in rapid sequence, one after another. Eleven different locations scattered throughout the church, all detonating within seconds of each other. The foundation shuddered beneath him. Walls started cracking and buckling inward. The ceiling began to collapse, huge chunks of stone and timber falling down.
Fire consumed everything it touched.
David felt the heat wash over him for just a moment. Then darkness came rushing in, cold and absolute and final.
Then there was light.
A soft blue glow filled what was left of his fading vision. Words appeared, floating in the air above him like something out of a dream or a hallucination.
[TRANSMIGRATION IN PROCESS]
[SUBJECT: DAVID SMITH]
[DESTINATION: INFINITE WAR - THE LAST BARGAIN]
[INTEGRATION BEGINNING...]
David's last thought before everything went black:
'What the hell...?'
Nothing.
Everything changed.