Two other agents besides Radabaugh had dog-piled on top of Franks, and all three of them were striking him and trying to hold him down. But Franks just got up anyway, dragging the hapless men with him. Stark raised his pistol in his off hand, but he was shaking so badly, he didn’t have a shot with all of his men hanging off Franks’ body.

One agent crashed through a table, hit so hard and fast that Stark couldn’t even tell what had happened. Franks saw Stark aiming at him, and the cunning bastard grabbed hold of the other agent, picked him up, lifted him effortlessly overhead, and threw him at Stark. The man screamed as he sailed across the room. Stark barely had time to raise his hands to protect himself from the impact.

He must have blacked out for a moment. His head had bounced off the floor pretty hard. He couldn’t move. The MCB agent was lying on top of him, not breathing. Stark didn’t know where his gun was.

Radabaugh was still trying to fight Franks hand to hand. He was the MCB’s reigning martial arts champion. He was a Strike Team commando and one of the toughest men in the Bureau. Radabaugh could tangle with damn near any mortal human being in the world and have a fighting chance of coming out ahead.

He only lived for another twenty seconds.

There was something wrong with Stark’s eyes. Franks seemed too small, and also a whole lot faster than he used to be. Radabaugh threw a series of punches, but Franks brushed them aside effortlessly. One hand flew out, grabbed Radabaugh by the throat. The agent thrashed and turned red in the face, trying a wristlock to break the hold, but to no avail. Franks twisted and with a sickening crack snapped his neck.

Stark tried to push the dead man’s weight off of his chest, but he was too weak.

Franks dropped Radabaugh’s limp form, walked to the bodyguard’s pistol and picked it up. He began methodically putting bullets into each of the wounded.

Last of all, he aimed the gun at Stark’s face.

“No. Please!” He squeezed his eyes shut tight. “I don’t want to die! Not like this! Please!”

Several seconds passed. There was no boom. No tunnel of light, or whatever was supposed to happen. As far as he knew, he was still alive. Stark opened his eyes. The cafeteria was filled with dead bodies and Franks was gone.

CHAPTER 5

CHAPTER 5

Disembodied spirits escape the Void however they can. Sometimes there are cracks where another world collided with our prison. There are other things out there, alien gods willing to cut deals. We would trade our services for freedom. Then the Fallen come to the mortal world and make trouble. When you make a hole, spirits will escape through it until it is plugged.