Chapter 6
“Never let your sense of morals get in the way of doing what’s right”- Isaac Asimov
Eventually and inevitably, Chris sat down with Jeff and I to discuss his plans for the future. I knew that things had changed for us and I think that is why we hadn’t gone the extra twenty miles to get to my mom’s. We knew exactly how we were going to go, and the side roads had been clear for a long time.
Chris felt useful and as if he belonged with our hosts, the Illiniwek. He was a bit of an oddity, considering he clearly didn’t have any Native American heritage whatsoever. But, that criterion wasn’t observed quite as strictly as it may have been in the past. The people here didn’t seem to care so much about bloodlines and percentages. I think having the right attitude and a willingness to be an active part of the community was more important.
In yet another odd twist of irony, Chris was going to join some of the Illiniwek as they set up another community toward the West. They were going to try to reform the Illiniwek branch near Cahokia if they could, using the same model of inclusion that made this camp so successful.
I was disappointed about losing my friend in a purely selfish way. I was very tempted to give in to some blind jealousy concerning his new girlfriend, Anita. But, in the end, I could only wish him the best. He drove off on an ATV, part of a great herd of them, about a month after Jason was laid to rest.
Jeff was also getting antsy. It was time for us to move along as well. I wasn’t sure what my mom had going at her place, but knowing her, I was fairly certain she would become a regular trade destination. When it came time for us to leave, I invited Suzanne and Jill to join us. Jeff had his hands full.
We added some extra bedding and a few seedlings from the garden to the trunk and started the most dangerous leg of our driving journey.
Or not.
The roads weren’t in terrific shape, but we didn’t come across anyone else as we drove along. We found ourselves pulling up alongside Ten Mile Grove about forty-five minutes after we left New Illiniwek Retreat. I was having a nostalgic moment and insisted that we stop and find out if the ponds still held fish.
When I was in high school, we used to come out here every once in a while to fish. The people who owned it raised catfish, bass and bluegill to stock other ponds. We could catch them all day long for a fee, but we had to release them. There was a heavy log chain across the old gravel drive, so we left the car there and walked out on foot.
The place was overgrown and run down, deserted. Route 9 flowed out like a ribbon in front of it. I was surprised that no one had moved in or took over. We walked to the nearest of four ponds, it was scummy and stagnant. It probably had something living in it, but I doubted it was fish. These ponds were supposedly pretty deep, but they’d had aerators when I used to visit. We brushed off an old placard on the path leading to the next pond; it had pictures of the fish to be expected. As we looked I heard the sound of a pump coming to life. We hurried on to the next pond, which appeared much healthier. As we leaned out over the water, several small fish came to the surface, expecting to be fed. We were all pleasantly surprised, and somehow we managed to produce crumbs from crackers and cookies.
After checking the rest of the ponds, we found that at least two still held fish. We found one of the aeration pumps, and it ran off of a solar panel. Maybe we could find the panel for the first pond and see if it just needed wiped off?
The sky was beginning to cloud up so we decided to sit on the side of a pond for a moment before we left again.
Days like this were to be treasured, I had learned. We got a little wrapped up in talking about a fish trade between Ten Mile Grove and the Retreat. We never noticed the heavy fast moving clouds coming at us from the north.
A distant rumbling finally pulled us from our wild speculations. The air had taken on that peculiar greenish cast that people in tornado zones are familiar with. I assured everyone that we had plenty of time; we could walk to my mom’s from here.
Of course, Jill wasn’t having that. She started getting our stuff together and headed for the Vega.
It was a good thing she did. I’ve never seen clouds roll up that fast before. They had a strange stacked up look to them and the light turned almost sepia toned. All of the colors became some form of muted dirty browns. We could clearly see lightning in the upper layers, not yet striking the ground.
Jeff and I exchanged worried glances, nervously expecting some new and incredible threat.
“I don’t think we can chalk this up to Mother Earth.” Suzanne observed, sliding into the back seat of the Vega.
“I wish we had stayed at the Retreat now. Maybe we should think about going back.” Jill said pointedly.
“I think we just need to get to my mom’s. This storm is moving too fast. We won’t make it to the Retreat.” I said looking out the passenger side. I thought I could see things flying around in the clouds. I craned and twisted around in my seat as we got back on Rt 9.
“Look up Suzanne, do you see something in the clouds?” I asked. Jill leaned over and they both looked out the window, trying to see.
An audible collective gasp occurred as we saw them. They looked like giant bird skeletons. They were so far away it was hard to tell how big or any good details about them. We could only see the bones during the flash of lightning, like an x-ray. Their aerial dodging and weaving was clearly moving closer to us.
We flew around a set of wide curves and I pointed out my old home. My mom was outside on the front porch at the top of the hill, watching the approaching storm. She cast a nervous glance at us as we pulled in the driveway, so I lowered my window so I could wave to her to.
We pulled around the driveway curve to the garage; it was under the house as part of a walk out basement. Charlie, mom’s husband, met us at the door. We grabbed our bags and hustled inside and up the stairs so we could watch through the large front window.
Obviously, mom and Charlie were glad to see me and wanted to meet everyone. But my tone and Jeff’s agitation convinced them that we needed get ourselves situated before the storm hit. We pointed out the things flying around in the clouds and Charlie disappeared into the basement to gather rifles and pistols of all sorts. He also said something about electrifying the perimeter. I didn’t ask, I just prayed none of us found out about that particular gadget the hard way.
Jeff pulled out his chalk, but it wasn’t working very well on the carpet, and we decided that we didn’t want to be in front of a glass picture window in case it got broken.
So we moved the circle to the kitchen. Jeff and my mom worked on it together as the rest of us gave regular storm updates. A great gust of wind drove leaves from the trees and flattened some of the weeds along the road, followed by a sprinkling of pea sized hail. We looked for rotation and hooks but didn’t see any. I think that made it worse; tornado’s we were familiar with, we could handle.
Jeff moved throughout the living room, dining room and kitchen making notations in his foreign script on the walls. It was a curious mix of symbols and text reminiscent of the Demon writing at the hotel, only Jeff’s didn’t make my skin crawl when I looked at it. In the midst of all of this I had a moment of pride in my mom and Charlie, neither of them even looked like complaining about a strange scary man writing on their floors and walls! I could only guess that they had their own disturbing tales to tell and I felt a pang of remorse that I hadn’t been around to help them.
Just as Jeff finished up writing something on the front door a brilliant flash nearly blinded us. When our sight returned, we could see three figures on the road in front of the hill that was our front yard, about fifty feet from the house. They looked human, as opposed to Demon, but again they were very tall and lanky.
They seemed to jump from the road about fifteen feet into the yard. The ground had buckled where their feet touched and the house shook. They seemed to be experimentally walking towards us. After the first few ginger steps they seemed to settle into walking and strode right up to the picture window.
We were utterly terrified. These things were anything but human. Their skin emitted a glow like over exposed photos, obscuring some of the fine details. They seemed to be wearing simple tunics over leggings, in a shade of white I’ve never seen before. Most startling were their eyes. They had no color, no iris, no pupils. We couldn’t be sure who or what they were looking at.
Jill, Suzanne and my mom were trying to draw us into the kitchen, to get in the circle. I was tempted, but one of the things had turned its attention to me and I was rooted in place. I turned my head and saw that Jeff and Charlie had the same problem; they seemed hypnotized by these things. Charlie didn’t even have his rifle up.
“Get in the kitchen ladies.” I said, bringing my rifle up to bear. Did that really just come out of my mouth?
The creature that had been holding Charlie’s gaze seemed to snap out of it, swinging its stare to me. I heard Charlie’s sharp intake of breath, he had a bewildered look on his face. I kept waiting for Jeff to tell us what to do, but he seemed to be dazed.
“Charlie,” I barked, a little too loudly. “Go to the kitchen, tell everyone to stay in the circle, don’t talk to anyone outside the circle and don’t look at these things, look at the floor or each other.”
Two of the creatures moved up to my spot along the picture window. I took a step forward as well. I didn’t want to instigate any aggression, but I wanted them to know that they couldn’t take us without a fight either. I said a silent prayer that they didn’t just bust through the window.
“Jeff,” I whispered. “JEFF!”
No answer. Great!
The three things broke off the stare down. They seemed to be coming to some sort of conclusion about us. I did NOT want these things to get in here!
“Let’s go outside. Better to do this out there than in here with everyone else.” Jeff said quietly behind me. “We aren’t going to win this one.”
Oh, even better!
********************
I took a step towards the door, and the things turned sharply to follow me. I just kept walking, Jeff in tow. I quickly yanked the door open and stepped through, rifle up. I heard Jeff close the door behind us.
I nearly landed on my backside. The things moved so quickly I couldn’t track them. Suddenly, they were just inches from me. One of them had a hand on my rifle. It crushed the barrel in its hand before yanking it out of my grasp and tossing it about half a mile into the field across the road.
“&$^#@%@%,” It began, in a jarring discordant voice that nearly brought me to my knees, “….have already been judged worthy, you may leave us.”
“I am with her. I won’t leave her. She is also worthy.” Jeff answered. WTF?
“She is…” it began again, seeming to search for the right word, “ not under our…”
“Purview…Jurisdiction…Abomination” the words rang out from all three. I closed my mouth. There it was again, that abomination word.
They turned to look at each other, clearly having some sort of silent debate about me.
“Worthy of what?” I asked simply. Then immediately regretted it, wishing I could make myself small, make myself small…
The weight of their collective stares was overwhelming. I began to shake. I managed a peek at Jeff, who looked pale and waxy. I’ve never seen his confident veneer falter before.
“The Abomination is deemed…Not Evil” they voiced collectively, “We shall let it pass.”
Ohhh, thank God!! My legs turned to very relieved jelly as I sagged into Jeff. The creatures turned to the East. They each planted a foot in unison, the Earth trembled with the force and the pavement on the walk cracked where one of them had stepped. They seemed to spring up and forward, so fast that once again we couldn’t track them. But I heard them when they landed, that same Earth shaking tremor as when they arrived in my front yard.
“Holy Crap!” I let out. “What were those?”
“Not Holy Crap, that’s for certain.” Jeff answered, sounding mighty relieved himself, “I believe those were the good guys, Angels.”
“Come on, let’s go inside.” Jeff turned around and opened the door for me.
Sunday, November 30, 2008
Friday, November 28, 2008
Ch.5 Athena's Gift
Chapter 5
“Force without wisdom falls of its own weight” - Horace
Jill met us on the steps of the back porch, cigarette in hand. I kept waiting for a bottle of whiskey to appear in her other hand to complete the picture.
She stubbed out her smoke carefully and ushered us inside.
“This is where our medical facility is housed, such as it is. If you have any drugs, over the counter or otherwise to spare we would really appreciate a donation.” She said as she walked briskly toward the living room area. Seated on an old floral couch in a sunny room was another woman, we would come to know as Suzanne. They were sisters who had come down from Michigan to help get this site off the ground. Suzanne had the same air of self-confidence that her marked her, more than anything else, as Jill’s sister.
“Suzanne is our Medicine Woman until we get someone trained to take over. We have a guy who was in Med school before he came here, but he hasn’t fully come to terms with our methods for healing. Hopefully we can get him turned around so we can get back home to Michigan.”
Jill sat down next to her sister. Suzanne poured out six small cups of fragrant tea and passed them around. The room was uncomfortably quiet. Suzanne looked me directly in the eye as she handed me my tea. I was taken aback at the intensity of her study; she had a momentary pause before moving on to Jeff.
She paused again when she got to Jason, and leaned over to whisper something to Jill.
“Excuse me.” Jill said as she got up to leave the room.
“We are so glad that you were able to stay for a while.” Suzanne began, smiling at us warmly. “What will you be doing during your stay with us?”
“We were just about to sort that out I think.” I responded, “What do you need done?”
“Well, we always have something to be done. There is a maintenance list posted at the back of the large pole barn, but mostly people just see a need and fill it. What are you good at?” She asked encouragingly, looking at Jason.
“Jason is a great mechanic!” I volunteered, Jason just nodded his head. A bead of sweat trickled down his face near his ear. “And we can help with your windmills if they need anything. I love to garden and wouldn’t mind spending some time in the fields if I could.”
I was fairly gushing. The guys looked as if they might try to get a word in, but I wasn’t having it. I was compelled to tell it all if I could.
“And Jeff has a really important talent. He can deal with Demons and Demon Touched. It’s amazing even if it is a little hard to believe.” I continued, in spite of flags going up in my mind and an evil glare from Jeff.
Suzanne turned her smile on me and looked over to Jeff. She turned it up a few watts for him, but didn’t say anything.
“Well, it sounds crazy when she puts it like that.” He began, clearly on the verge of a lengthy babble.
Jill came back with an older gentleman. He looked to be about ninety and half blind, with a severe tremor. She helped him to sit next to Suzanne.
“Jason, would you please scoot your chair forward.” Jill said as she began to slide the coffee table from between Jason and Suzanne. She gave Chris a nod and he jumped up to help her.
I was sooo tempted to ask what was going on. But at the same time, I had a lump forming in my throat that I couldn’t seem to speak around. A sudden wave of dread threatened to overtake me.
Jeff got up and walked over to me. He took my hand and my heart began to pound in an ominous fashion.
“Chris, why don’t you sit down over here with me.” Jill directed, indicating that he should take the chair she had just moved to her side of the room.
“Umm, sure…” an unspoken question hanging in the air.
All attention was focused on Suzanne, the old man and Jason. The room fell silent as Suzanne and the old man reached out and took Jason’s hands. After a moment the old man turned to Suzanne and said something to her in a quiet raspy voice. He sat back on the couch and stared ahead with all the patience in the world.
“Jason, I think that you have something to say. I think you have something you need to say.” Suzanne said calmly, watching Jason carefully.
Jason gripped the arms on his chair, but he didn’t look away, didn’t say anything. Suzanne flicked a glance at me, and I stilled my swirling thoughts. Everything in the room came into sharper focus and my breathing sounded loud in my ears.
“It’s okay Jason.” Suzanne tried again, in a reassuring voice. “You’ll feel better when it’s done.”
“Please,” Jason began, a pleading tremble in his voice. He looked over his shoulder at me. The look of anguish on his face was heartbreaking. “Please Lucy.”
Oh God. Whatever you need Jason, tell me what you need…
“Jason, tell her what you want. She needs to hear you say it.” Suzanne was firm this time.
“Lucy…let me go.” He said in a small voice.
I felt like someone had hit me in the face with a sledgehammer. My head rocked back and I experienced a blinding pain behind my eyes.
“Ask again Jason.” Suzanne said.
“Lucy, you have to let me go. I can’t stay with you.” Jason said in a stronger voice, dripping with regret and guilt.
Jeff moved behind me and gripped my shoulders, keeping me from dropping to my knees.
Before my eyes a strand of...something…materialized. It stretched blackly between Jason and me. I could feel the tension on it, about to break.
“What? What is it?” the panic edging into my voice was palpable. I had a sudden urge to go to Jason and breathe into his face. I was confused and I shrieked out “What is it, what’s happening?”
“Lucy, let Jason go. It’s past his time. He doesn’t belong here with us anymore. I’m sorry honey, but you have to let GO!” Suzanne yelled out.
So I did.
Words can’t describe the sense of loss and abandonment. I suddenly just knew what my brain hadn’t been letting me see, and it was crushing me. Jason was gone. He had been gone since the hotel in Danville. And though I couldn’t fathom how, he had stayed among us through some feat of my will.
Through the streaming tears I saw Jason slump forward in his chair. Chris jumped forward trailing Jill behind him. He was in a confused rage, yelling and trying to wake Jason up. He turned an angry glare on me and I had to look away. I couldn’t hear anything but the rush of blood in my own head and strangely, the beat of Jeff’s heart as he held me.
Jeff moved me out of the room and outside to the back porch. He didn’t say anything, just held me. A few minutes later Jill and Chris came out and proceeded towards our tents. Chris didn’t even glance at me and part of me was relieved. Suzanne sat down on the step next to us and reached out a hand to try to comfort me. She said something to Jeff, but I was lost in my own despair and didn’t hear it. I realized that the broken sobs were coming from me.
*******************
I think it actually took me two days to stop crying. I was so dehydrated that I didn’t have any tears left. Jeff and Chris must have taken care of the arrangements. All I remember is Jeff coming in to ask me if I knew of any religious preferences Jason had. That pushed me into a new round of wracking sobs because in spite of knowing Jason for half my life, I had no idea what religious beliefs he held. I am sure I wasn’t much help with anything.
To make matters worse, everyone was of the opinion that I shouldn’t be near Jason again. I knew in my heart that whatever bond we had was broken and I couldn’t repair it. But the people around me were nervous. Jeff and I had a long talk about it and he finally convinced me that I was better off just remembering Jason the way he was before we started this horrific trip. So, I missed his funeral service and I never went to visit his grave. Part of me felt like I wasn’t paying the respect that Jason had more than earned in his life.
Everyday Chris and Jeff went out to make themselves useful. They worked on the windmills, they helped with meal preparation and hunting and occasionally Chris went out to the highway with the watchers to sit in folding chairs.
I, on the other hand, stayed in the tent. Time flew past and I was oblivious. I’ve never slept so much in my life. Chris and Jeff brought me food. Chris was over his initial anger, but something had shifted between us. He seemed somehow older.
I woke up a few times with Jeff asleep next to me. He always got up and walked with me to the latrines or to get something to drink.
After about a week of this I heard Jill and Suzanne outside the tent calling to me. I reluctantly sat up and opened the flaps. It was a grey drizzly day and I was in full wallow.
“We just came to check on you. We are a little worried about your mental health Lucy.” Suzanne called out, smiling when I poked my head out of the door.
“Yeah, you’re scaring people.” Jill added, also smiling but getting more to the point. “We thought it was time you came out of there and became part of our community.”
They had brought a picnic basket with them, so I cleared up my extra blanket and we sat down out of the rain. We had a nice talk, us girls. I had a tendency to just run off at the mouth when Suzanne was around. Before long we were laughing about the men around us and we had polished off all of the food. I must have had fifty visits from other people, dropping in to introduce themselves. Most of them brought small offerings of tobacco with them; two of the young girls brought me woven bracelets that I wore with pride. I knew that this was some sort of staged ritual engineered by Jill or Suzanne, but I did feel curiously better and welcome. We ended with an invitation to take a meal with the rest of the community later in the dining hall and an appointment in the garden with Suzanne the following morning.
It turned out that Jeff’s muscles were far more valuable than his Demon fighting skills. Apparently Mother Earth held more sway here in the community than Demons or Angels ever would. Yes, I said Angels. There had been sightings and even run-ins with them in the surrounding towns. It didn’t sound like Angels to me, but then not much surprised me anymore. At any rate, a haven from Demons was a good thing to know about.
Everyone was under the impression that Jeff and I were a pair. Jeff didn’t say anything to the contrary and I just couldn’t be bothered. Sometimes it’s just easier to let people believe what they wanted.
I learned some basic herbalism from Suzanne and surprised her with some knowledge of my own. She was with me when we came across a mother cat giving birth just under the edge of the pole barn. She had three tiny kittens and was pushing out the fourth. The poor thing was about to wilt when the last one dropped. She went to clean it but became agitated. It wasn’t moving as much as the others or making any noises.
I felt an inexplicable wave of instinct take hold. I picked the fading kitten up and blew sharply into its face. It tensed up and then relaxed, drooping. I blew again, harder. It tensed and hiccupped. Then it rolled its head as I blew again. It drew in a breath, hiccupping. It began to writhe around as the mother paced worriedly around me.
I put the kitten back down with its mother. As I looked up I saw that Suzanne had been studying me.
“That’s quite a gift you have.” She said quietly, a measuring look in her eye.
“Yeah, you know that’s how you get babies to take a breath when they cry so hard they don’t take a breath.” I said, trying to brush it off.
“I am not talking about the knee jerk reaction when you blow in a baby’s face.” Suzanne said pointedly. “ I am talking about whatever allows you to bridge between life and death. That kitten wasn’t dead when you picked it up, but it was going to be very soon. I could see a line extend from you to the kitten when you blew on it.”
“It’s gone now,” she said as she saw me struggling to see it. “ You aren’t even aware of it are you?”
“No, but I thought I saw something when Jason…” I let the thought trail off.
“Jason wasn’t the same. The closest thing I can compare to Jason is, and I am sorry I am so ignorant on the subject, zombies.”
“Zombies!” If I didn’t know better I would have been insulted.
“It isn’t like in the movies. The older guy that came in to our interview knows more about this sort of thing, but I could tell right off that something wasn’t right with Jason. People have what the New Agers call Auras. Jason’s Aura wasn’t alive, and it had an oily black coating on it. The black was probably from the Demon.” Suzanne explained, “ Anyway, when zombies are made, they keep the personality and memories they had in life for a short time, slowly degenerating until someone puts them to rest. There is obviously more to it than that, but that is the extent of my knowledge. I didn’t realize that a zombie could be created the way you did.”
Neither did I.
“Force without wisdom falls of its own weight” - Horace
Jill met us on the steps of the back porch, cigarette in hand. I kept waiting for a bottle of whiskey to appear in her other hand to complete the picture.
She stubbed out her smoke carefully and ushered us inside.
“This is where our medical facility is housed, such as it is. If you have any drugs, over the counter or otherwise to spare we would really appreciate a donation.” She said as she walked briskly toward the living room area. Seated on an old floral couch in a sunny room was another woman, we would come to know as Suzanne. They were sisters who had come down from Michigan to help get this site off the ground. Suzanne had the same air of self-confidence that her marked her, more than anything else, as Jill’s sister.
“Suzanne is our Medicine Woman until we get someone trained to take over. We have a guy who was in Med school before he came here, but he hasn’t fully come to terms with our methods for healing. Hopefully we can get him turned around so we can get back home to Michigan.”
Jill sat down next to her sister. Suzanne poured out six small cups of fragrant tea and passed them around. The room was uncomfortably quiet. Suzanne looked me directly in the eye as she handed me my tea. I was taken aback at the intensity of her study; she had a momentary pause before moving on to Jeff.
She paused again when she got to Jason, and leaned over to whisper something to Jill.
“Excuse me.” Jill said as she got up to leave the room.
“We are so glad that you were able to stay for a while.” Suzanne began, smiling at us warmly. “What will you be doing during your stay with us?”
“We were just about to sort that out I think.” I responded, “What do you need done?”
“Well, we always have something to be done. There is a maintenance list posted at the back of the large pole barn, but mostly people just see a need and fill it. What are you good at?” She asked encouragingly, looking at Jason.
“Jason is a great mechanic!” I volunteered, Jason just nodded his head. A bead of sweat trickled down his face near his ear. “And we can help with your windmills if they need anything. I love to garden and wouldn’t mind spending some time in the fields if I could.”
I was fairly gushing. The guys looked as if they might try to get a word in, but I wasn’t having it. I was compelled to tell it all if I could.
“And Jeff has a really important talent. He can deal with Demons and Demon Touched. It’s amazing even if it is a little hard to believe.” I continued, in spite of flags going up in my mind and an evil glare from Jeff.
Suzanne turned her smile on me and looked over to Jeff. She turned it up a few watts for him, but didn’t say anything.
“Well, it sounds crazy when she puts it like that.” He began, clearly on the verge of a lengthy babble.
Jill came back with an older gentleman. He looked to be about ninety and half blind, with a severe tremor. She helped him to sit next to Suzanne.
“Jason, would you please scoot your chair forward.” Jill said as she began to slide the coffee table from between Jason and Suzanne. She gave Chris a nod and he jumped up to help her.
I was sooo tempted to ask what was going on. But at the same time, I had a lump forming in my throat that I couldn’t seem to speak around. A sudden wave of dread threatened to overtake me.
Jeff got up and walked over to me. He took my hand and my heart began to pound in an ominous fashion.
“Chris, why don’t you sit down over here with me.” Jill directed, indicating that he should take the chair she had just moved to her side of the room.
“Umm, sure…” an unspoken question hanging in the air.
All attention was focused on Suzanne, the old man and Jason. The room fell silent as Suzanne and the old man reached out and took Jason’s hands. After a moment the old man turned to Suzanne and said something to her in a quiet raspy voice. He sat back on the couch and stared ahead with all the patience in the world.
“Jason, I think that you have something to say. I think you have something you need to say.” Suzanne said calmly, watching Jason carefully.
Jason gripped the arms on his chair, but he didn’t look away, didn’t say anything. Suzanne flicked a glance at me, and I stilled my swirling thoughts. Everything in the room came into sharper focus and my breathing sounded loud in my ears.
“It’s okay Jason.” Suzanne tried again, in a reassuring voice. “You’ll feel better when it’s done.”
“Please,” Jason began, a pleading tremble in his voice. He looked over his shoulder at me. The look of anguish on his face was heartbreaking. “Please Lucy.”
Oh God. Whatever you need Jason, tell me what you need…
“Jason, tell her what you want. She needs to hear you say it.” Suzanne was firm this time.
“Lucy…let me go.” He said in a small voice.
I felt like someone had hit me in the face with a sledgehammer. My head rocked back and I experienced a blinding pain behind my eyes.
“Ask again Jason.” Suzanne said.
“Lucy, you have to let me go. I can’t stay with you.” Jason said in a stronger voice, dripping with regret and guilt.
Jeff moved behind me and gripped my shoulders, keeping me from dropping to my knees.
Before my eyes a strand of...something…materialized. It stretched blackly between Jason and me. I could feel the tension on it, about to break.
“What? What is it?” the panic edging into my voice was palpable. I had a sudden urge to go to Jason and breathe into his face. I was confused and I shrieked out “What is it, what’s happening?”
“Lucy, let Jason go. It’s past his time. He doesn’t belong here with us anymore. I’m sorry honey, but you have to let GO!” Suzanne yelled out.
So I did.
Words can’t describe the sense of loss and abandonment. I suddenly just knew what my brain hadn’t been letting me see, and it was crushing me. Jason was gone. He had been gone since the hotel in Danville. And though I couldn’t fathom how, he had stayed among us through some feat of my will.
Through the streaming tears I saw Jason slump forward in his chair. Chris jumped forward trailing Jill behind him. He was in a confused rage, yelling and trying to wake Jason up. He turned an angry glare on me and I had to look away. I couldn’t hear anything but the rush of blood in my own head and strangely, the beat of Jeff’s heart as he held me.
Jeff moved me out of the room and outside to the back porch. He didn’t say anything, just held me. A few minutes later Jill and Chris came out and proceeded towards our tents. Chris didn’t even glance at me and part of me was relieved. Suzanne sat down on the step next to us and reached out a hand to try to comfort me. She said something to Jeff, but I was lost in my own despair and didn’t hear it. I realized that the broken sobs were coming from me.
*******************
I think it actually took me two days to stop crying. I was so dehydrated that I didn’t have any tears left. Jeff and Chris must have taken care of the arrangements. All I remember is Jeff coming in to ask me if I knew of any religious preferences Jason had. That pushed me into a new round of wracking sobs because in spite of knowing Jason for half my life, I had no idea what religious beliefs he held. I am sure I wasn’t much help with anything.
To make matters worse, everyone was of the opinion that I shouldn’t be near Jason again. I knew in my heart that whatever bond we had was broken and I couldn’t repair it. But the people around me were nervous. Jeff and I had a long talk about it and he finally convinced me that I was better off just remembering Jason the way he was before we started this horrific trip. So, I missed his funeral service and I never went to visit his grave. Part of me felt like I wasn’t paying the respect that Jason had more than earned in his life.
Everyday Chris and Jeff went out to make themselves useful. They worked on the windmills, they helped with meal preparation and hunting and occasionally Chris went out to the highway with the watchers to sit in folding chairs.
I, on the other hand, stayed in the tent. Time flew past and I was oblivious. I’ve never slept so much in my life. Chris and Jeff brought me food. Chris was over his initial anger, but something had shifted between us. He seemed somehow older.
I woke up a few times with Jeff asleep next to me. He always got up and walked with me to the latrines or to get something to drink.
After about a week of this I heard Jill and Suzanne outside the tent calling to me. I reluctantly sat up and opened the flaps. It was a grey drizzly day and I was in full wallow.
“We just came to check on you. We are a little worried about your mental health Lucy.” Suzanne called out, smiling when I poked my head out of the door.
“Yeah, you’re scaring people.” Jill added, also smiling but getting more to the point. “We thought it was time you came out of there and became part of our community.”
They had brought a picnic basket with them, so I cleared up my extra blanket and we sat down out of the rain. We had a nice talk, us girls. I had a tendency to just run off at the mouth when Suzanne was around. Before long we were laughing about the men around us and we had polished off all of the food. I must have had fifty visits from other people, dropping in to introduce themselves. Most of them brought small offerings of tobacco with them; two of the young girls brought me woven bracelets that I wore with pride. I knew that this was some sort of staged ritual engineered by Jill or Suzanne, but I did feel curiously better and welcome. We ended with an invitation to take a meal with the rest of the community later in the dining hall and an appointment in the garden with Suzanne the following morning.
It turned out that Jeff’s muscles were far more valuable than his Demon fighting skills. Apparently Mother Earth held more sway here in the community than Demons or Angels ever would. Yes, I said Angels. There had been sightings and even run-ins with them in the surrounding towns. It didn’t sound like Angels to me, but then not much surprised me anymore. At any rate, a haven from Demons was a good thing to know about.
Everyone was under the impression that Jeff and I were a pair. Jeff didn’t say anything to the contrary and I just couldn’t be bothered. Sometimes it’s just easier to let people believe what they wanted.
I learned some basic herbalism from Suzanne and surprised her with some knowledge of my own. She was with me when we came across a mother cat giving birth just under the edge of the pole barn. She had three tiny kittens and was pushing out the fourth. The poor thing was about to wilt when the last one dropped. She went to clean it but became agitated. It wasn’t moving as much as the others or making any noises.
I felt an inexplicable wave of instinct take hold. I picked the fading kitten up and blew sharply into its face. It tensed up and then relaxed, drooping. I blew again, harder. It tensed and hiccupped. Then it rolled its head as I blew again. It drew in a breath, hiccupping. It began to writhe around as the mother paced worriedly around me.
I put the kitten back down with its mother. As I looked up I saw that Suzanne had been studying me.
“That’s quite a gift you have.” She said quietly, a measuring look in her eye.
“Yeah, you know that’s how you get babies to take a breath when they cry so hard they don’t take a breath.” I said, trying to brush it off.
“I am not talking about the knee jerk reaction when you blow in a baby’s face.” Suzanne said pointedly. “ I am talking about whatever allows you to bridge between life and death. That kitten wasn’t dead when you picked it up, but it was going to be very soon. I could see a line extend from you to the kitten when you blew on it.”
“It’s gone now,” she said as she saw me struggling to see it. “ You aren’t even aware of it are you?”
“No, but I thought I saw something when Jason…” I let the thought trail off.
“Jason wasn’t the same. The closest thing I can compare to Jason is, and I am sorry I am so ignorant on the subject, zombies.”
“Zombies!” If I didn’t know better I would have been insulted.
“It isn’t like in the movies. The older guy that came in to our interview knows more about this sort of thing, but I could tell right off that something wasn’t right with Jason. People have what the New Agers call Auras. Jason’s Aura wasn’t alive, and it had an oily black coating on it. The black was probably from the Demon.” Suzanne explained, “ Anyway, when zombies are made, they keep the personality and memories they had in life for a short time, slowly degenerating until someone puts them to rest. There is obviously more to it than that, but that is the extent of my knowledge. I didn’t realize that a zombie could be created the way you did.”
Neither did I.
Thursday, November 27, 2008
Ch.4 Athena's Gift
Chapter 4
"The belief in a supernatural source for evil is not necessary; men alone are capable of every kind of wickedness" - Joseph Conrad
We rolled into Champaign Illinois about five hours later. That was one of the longest drives I think I’ve ever been on. The scenery outside of Danville is kind of pretty, with rolling hills and trees. But after that it is flat! Flat, flat, flat. Few trees and blocky homes in the distance. It was just as well I guess, we really needed all of our attention on the road and the drivers around us. There were giant craters and potholes big enough to lose small children in. But that wasn’t the worst.
The worst was the line of people on foot at the side of the road. I’ve seen movies where foreign cities were evacuated, and this looked very much like them. I saw a mob swarm over a mini van that had pulled over to the side, probably thinking to take on a passenger. The two men inside were pulled out, beaten and left while about twenty people fought over the van. It lurched forward a few times, and then there was a gunshot. About five people baled out, a body was rolled out and the van tore off into the distance ahead.
We saw that van again about fifteen minutes later, just before the next checkpoint. Its front end was lodged in a crater and the back tires were off the ground. The only way around was to drive in the grass past the shoulder. It was a tricky tense moment; we had to balance slowing down with moving fast enough that the pedestrians didn’t get any ideas.
I thought about George and Irene and their kids. I hadn’t seen them again and knew that they probably hadn’t gotten out of the hotel. As far as I could tell we were the only survivors. Still, I looked inside every red mini van we passed.
***********
It was cool at night, but we decided to camp instead of looking for rooms in Champaign. Camping areas had sprung up along the sides of Interstates, down from the exit ramps. You took a chance when you did it, but after our last town experience we decided it was better than getting stuck in Champaign.
Champaign-Urbana was a big University town. It was exceptionally diverse for this part of the country. In retrospect, I think that had a lot to do with the relative normalcy. We easily found a bazaar area and got some basic supplies for the night. I even found some henna.We set up our tents on the north I57 exit coming off of I74. This should be the last leg of our journey that we could take Interstates for. My mom lived about five miles outside of Paxton, on route 9. That would be the most dangerous bit of driving.
Most of the horror stories about driving on non- interstates outside of cities involved carloads of people going missing. They just disappeared, no one heard or saw from them again. I personally believed that a lot of the missing vehicles were just fine. They got to their destinations and then didn’t let anyone know that they had arrived safely. Communication wasn’t an easy task anymore. You couldn’t just whip out your cell phone or send an email.
Some of the stories about back roads were more problematic. Apparently there was a large KKK contingent in this part of the country at one time in our history. The descendents had banded together and made it their business to ethnically cleanse our society one questionable carload at a time.
We also had small time pirates to contend with, the ones not organized well enough to take on the Interstate system yet. Who knew what other crazies were out there?
*********************
So, we had two tents. I had given up worrying about sleeping arrangements a long time ago, but that was before Jeff came into the picture. Suddenly I had this overblown sense of propriety. I couldn’t be expected to sleep in a tent with A Guy! Fortunately, the guys decided on a shift system sparing me from sleeping in a tent with any of them.
I squashed down the nagging sense of disappointment and went to sleep.
Jason came in and woke me up four hours later. It was about 2 AM and chilly, so I wrapped my extra blanket around me. I could see a few other fires going in the camps around us, but most were banked for the night.
“Lucy.” Jeff nodded at me, handing me a mug of tea.
“Jeff.” I nodded back, pulling out a tin of dry hard cookies. You know the ones specifically designed to sit on a little old lady’s kitchen table for years. Not nutritionally sound, but filling.
“So, how many of the people around us here are not really people?” I began the conversation for the night.
“All of them,” Jeff said calmly as I choked on a raspberry jelly filled shortbread. He patted me on the back. “I was just kidding. You gotta learn to relax woman.”
I took a gulp of tea, surprisingly sweet. I couldn’t help but smile.
“What is this? Do we have sugar?” I asked, taking another sip.
“It called African Red Tea. Not really tea in the traditional sense, but tasty nonetheless. I got it and a bottle of honey in the bazaar yesterday.” He answered me.
“Funny, I didn’t figure you for a tea guy.” I needled him a bit.
“Oh, I’m just full of surprises. Just like you.” He saluted me with his mug. “Jason seems to be recovering nicely. He isn’t eating though, have you noticed?”
“I guess not. He hasn’t said much since the incident in Danville. Is that normal for people who have had a run in with demons?” I asked, a worried feeling starting in the pit of my stomach.
“Demon possession, even a minor case of it isn’t a natural state for humans. We should just give him a little time.” He patted my hand reassuringly, “I spoke to him a little before he got you up. He doesn’t remember anything after he went into the sulfur cloud in the hotel until he woke up in the office at the club. It’s probably best to keep it that way. Let him come to you when he gets ready to talk about it.”
“Oh. Alright then.” I said behind my mug. I was a little miffed that Jason was talking to Jeff and not me in the first place. But, I guess Jeff had been the only one up.
“You know, we all got really lucky in Danville. I am shocked that we survived.” There was a hanging pause, as if he was trying to decide how to say something. “This is probably a sign of things to come. Have you thought about what you are going to do in Paxton when and if the Demons show up there?”
“First of all, I don’t know what the Demons could possibly want in Paxton. And if they do manage to get out to my mom’s place, well, I guess we’ll just deal with it then. Maybe we should have you put some circles down or something.” I said.
“I don’t think I am going to be staying with you in Paxton.” What was that!? Of course he was staying with us, how would we survive the Demons? “ I really need to be in a larger city where I can do more good. I am thinking of going to Chicago.”
“Oh.” I felt really let down. “How will you be getting there?”
“Well, I thought I might show you how to build some of the barriers in Paxton. Teach you a few things. But ultimately, if I can spend some time at the Paxton checkpoint I can probably catch a ride with someone or get on a shuttle.” He seemed to sense my panic. “You are really going to have to figure out how you will survive on your own.”
“I know, and I am very grateful that you are going to take some time to help us learn how to do what you do.” I said, maybe he will decide he wants to stay after all.
“What if…you had to get by without any of us?” he asked. “I mean, what if all of us were gone tomorrow? What would you do?”
“First of all, that’s not going to happen.” I was getting testy. “And, I would be fine. It isn’t an ideal scenario, but I would figure it out.”
“I believe you would.” He said thoughtfully. “But you’re right. Chances are that your group will be together for a long time.”
“Hmmm.” I couldn’t determine where he was going with that. But, I didn’t like it.
We passed the rest of the shift watching the limited night traffic and people in the camps around us. There were a few visits from our neighbors, mostly looking to barter or for news. We skirted discussing Demon infestations with them, instead putting a human spin on events in Danville. It wouldn't do to be ignored as an outright quack if the object was to prevent innocent people from stumbling into Danville. So the Demon touched became a gang that wore trench coats and the Demons themselves became some vague chemical weapon that smelled of sulfur and was to be avoided at all costs.
In return we were warned off of going south on I57, it was shut down at the Tuscola checkpoint indefinitely. Apparently a wave of unprecedented violence in the southern end of the state was just too much.
As the sun came up, Chris stumbled blearily back to the camp. He clearly had more fun than I did, I hadn’t even realized he was gone. In a bizarre ritual of absolution, going back to our high school years, he presented me with a pair of sunglasses. They were cheap pink plastic, put they worked well enough. It’s good to be queen!
***************
We were herded off the Interstate upon approach to the Rantoul checkpoint. In fact, the whole road was blocked off. This wasn’t good…
We were directed to yet another giant overflowing parking lot. Having learned from our last experience though, we chose to drive on towards downtown Rantoul. We could be stuck in one of those parking lots for days once our names got on a list.
We drove past old vacant fast food restaurants and gas stations until we hit a residential area. Clearly it used to be a well to do area, but its proximity to the Interstate had caused the owners to vacate. We pushed on a little further, knowing that between this area and the old downtown was a decent residential area where we could get our bearings.
Pulling over to the side of a shaded tree lined street we decided that we were probably going to have to risk driving the back roads to Paxton. It was only about fifteen miles. We shifted our weapons about within the car, Jeff took the wheel and we made two piles of possible projectiles in case we had to throw things.
As we pulled out of the other side of the ghost town that was once Rantoul, Former Home of Chanute Air Force Base, we saw signs directing us to the New Illiniwek Retreat area. We could only imagine what that meant…
There was an open barricade set up on the road just outside of Rantoul with a group of three people in folding lawn chairs sitting next to it. We slowed down for the barricade and Jeff lowered his window to talk to one of them. They said that they weren’t there to keep anyone from passing. Just to monitor things and help travelers out. That was nice to see. When they heard about the closing of the Interstate they invited us to follow them back to the Retreat. Figuring it was probably pirates; that meant that a pirate presence could be expected on this road, RT 45.
Hunkering down didn’t sound like a bad idea to me. I was curious about this Retreat anyway. We pulled off to the side as the lawn chair people uncovered a hidden ATV pulling a wagon.
Chris didn’t like the idea of stopping again, especially since we were so close. Jason didn’t seem to care one way or the other. I thought this Retreat might prove to be a future resource and Jeff said that we shouldn’t get reckless just because we were close. The truth is, we were all scared of the trip down Rt45. Getting some information before we got underway couldn’t be a bad idea.
We pulled onto a paved road to the left, going towards some railroad tracks. Then just before we reached the tracks it turned into a gravel road, we crossed the tracks and then followed a dirt path through an overgrown field across a road and through another tended cornfield that became a vegetable garden in the middle. It was very impressive really.
As we came out the other side and across another road we saw some old pole barns, a farmhouse and a large campground in the back yard. We slowly bumped along into the front yard, an area set aside for visitors. The folding chair people asked us to wait there for a moment. A greeter would come out to speak with us shortly. There were signs all around proclaiming that All were welcome here, please show courtesy and respect to Everyone on the premises, if you need something please ask-thieves will no longer be welcome, the chairs under the large blue tarp are for the elderly only.
A tall very tanned woman walked out of the farmhouse towards us. She looked like she was in her forties and she had a calm competent air about her. I liked her immediately.
“The watcher’s told me a little about you and what’s going on. Are you all right? Anyone hurt, anyone hungry?” She asked, genuine concern on her face. Seeing that we weren’t in immediate danger of expiring on the spot she handed us small cloth bundles.
“These are tobacco offerings and sage bundles. It is polite to present the tobacco to the residents here if you ask them for help with anything and you’ll want to mindfully cleanse yourself and your area with the sage smoke once you get settled.” With that, she pulled out a hand rolled smoke that became the first in an amazing chain of them. Her name was Jill and we should park the car off to the side and follow her in.
Ok, I was a little leery of leaving the car parked where we couldn’t see it. So were the guys, but the overall sense of safety here outweighed our doubts.
Jill took us around to the back side of the house, past several other campers waving and smiling at us, past a large empty arena area with a pavilion in the center, past the old people tarp and to an empty patch of land recently vacated by previous campers.
“This is a great spot, I’m a little jealous.” She said, “You have a nice tree and some bushes behind you. Take care that you don’t trample them down. We are in the process of expanding the green area around us, and the smallest sapling or bush is critical. You’ll be able to observe the flow of events from here before you join in. And you should observe first. We have some customs here that we observe that outsiders don’t always get right away.”
“I should probably tell you that we consider ourselves to be part of the Illiniwek tribe of Native Americans. Most of us and probably most of you have ancestral roots within other tribes throughout the country. However, in order to live in the good and traditional way of Native Americans everywhere, we have had to evolve our sense of the word Tribe. The Illiniwek were actually a group of tribes that shared language and customs, and that is true once again. We have had visits from descendents of the old Illiniwek periodically and they have given us their approval I am proud to say.” She paused to light up her sage bundle, “I am just going to purify your area here, watch what I am doing so that you can do the same later.”
The guys and I looked at each other. They seemed as mystified as I did, but willing to keep an open mind.
“Listen, after you get your tents up come back up to the main house. You can stay here as long as you need to, but we would like to figure out what you may be able to do for us in return. Every person here is a drain on the system in some way, so contributions of time, knowledge or items are helpful.” She said turning on her efficient heel and walking off. “I’ll see you in about an hour then.”
I guess we had a schedule! That’s ok, it only took us about 20 minutes to set up. We felt a little overwhelmed; I don’t think any of us had camping in mind when we first started following the folding chair people. But we acclimated to the idea surprisingly quickly. Besides, I had a feeling that when we got ready to leave that these people could tell us how to do it safely.
As we pounded the tent spikes into the ground, a very fit looking gentleman with long dark hair casually walked by, dropping tobacco onto the ground and mumbling something. He nodded his head at us with an almost sheepish grin on his face. I got the distinct impression that he was taking care of something for us that we were too oblivious to see.
“Do you think they would care if you put down one of your circles here?” I asked Jeff.
“Oh, I’m putting one down somewhere. It just might be in the tents instead of out in the open. That’s something we should ask about when we go see Jill again.” He answered, dropping down onto a blanket on the ground in front of our tent. We all joined him a moment later and savored the afternoon sunshine for a few minutes.The air was stirred by a gentle breeze that smelled of dirt, green and tobacco. It was a comforting combination that put us all in a positive mood, allowing the fear and stress to melt off of us. The light murmur of people around us wasn’t intrusive, even when a band of laughing children ran past us.
"The belief in a supernatural source for evil is not necessary; men alone are capable of every kind of wickedness" - Joseph Conrad
We rolled into Champaign Illinois about five hours later. That was one of the longest drives I think I’ve ever been on. The scenery outside of Danville is kind of pretty, with rolling hills and trees. But after that it is flat! Flat, flat, flat. Few trees and blocky homes in the distance. It was just as well I guess, we really needed all of our attention on the road and the drivers around us. There were giant craters and potholes big enough to lose small children in. But that wasn’t the worst.
The worst was the line of people on foot at the side of the road. I’ve seen movies where foreign cities were evacuated, and this looked very much like them. I saw a mob swarm over a mini van that had pulled over to the side, probably thinking to take on a passenger. The two men inside were pulled out, beaten and left while about twenty people fought over the van. It lurched forward a few times, and then there was a gunshot. About five people baled out, a body was rolled out and the van tore off into the distance ahead.
We saw that van again about fifteen minutes later, just before the next checkpoint. Its front end was lodged in a crater and the back tires were off the ground. The only way around was to drive in the grass past the shoulder. It was a tricky tense moment; we had to balance slowing down with moving fast enough that the pedestrians didn’t get any ideas.
I thought about George and Irene and their kids. I hadn’t seen them again and knew that they probably hadn’t gotten out of the hotel. As far as I could tell we were the only survivors. Still, I looked inside every red mini van we passed.
***********
It was cool at night, but we decided to camp instead of looking for rooms in Champaign. Camping areas had sprung up along the sides of Interstates, down from the exit ramps. You took a chance when you did it, but after our last town experience we decided it was better than getting stuck in Champaign.
Champaign-Urbana was a big University town. It was exceptionally diverse for this part of the country. In retrospect, I think that had a lot to do with the relative normalcy. We easily found a bazaar area and got some basic supplies for the night. I even found some henna.We set up our tents on the north I57 exit coming off of I74. This should be the last leg of our journey that we could take Interstates for. My mom lived about five miles outside of Paxton, on route 9. That would be the most dangerous bit of driving.
Most of the horror stories about driving on non- interstates outside of cities involved carloads of people going missing. They just disappeared, no one heard or saw from them again. I personally believed that a lot of the missing vehicles were just fine. They got to their destinations and then didn’t let anyone know that they had arrived safely. Communication wasn’t an easy task anymore. You couldn’t just whip out your cell phone or send an email.
Some of the stories about back roads were more problematic. Apparently there was a large KKK contingent in this part of the country at one time in our history. The descendents had banded together and made it their business to ethnically cleanse our society one questionable carload at a time.
We also had small time pirates to contend with, the ones not organized well enough to take on the Interstate system yet. Who knew what other crazies were out there?
*********************
So, we had two tents. I had given up worrying about sleeping arrangements a long time ago, but that was before Jeff came into the picture. Suddenly I had this overblown sense of propriety. I couldn’t be expected to sleep in a tent with A Guy! Fortunately, the guys decided on a shift system sparing me from sleeping in a tent with any of them.
I squashed down the nagging sense of disappointment and went to sleep.
Jason came in and woke me up four hours later. It was about 2 AM and chilly, so I wrapped my extra blanket around me. I could see a few other fires going in the camps around us, but most were banked for the night.
“Lucy.” Jeff nodded at me, handing me a mug of tea.
“Jeff.” I nodded back, pulling out a tin of dry hard cookies. You know the ones specifically designed to sit on a little old lady’s kitchen table for years. Not nutritionally sound, but filling.
“So, how many of the people around us here are not really people?” I began the conversation for the night.
“All of them,” Jeff said calmly as I choked on a raspberry jelly filled shortbread. He patted me on the back. “I was just kidding. You gotta learn to relax woman.”
I took a gulp of tea, surprisingly sweet. I couldn’t help but smile.
“What is this? Do we have sugar?” I asked, taking another sip.
“It called African Red Tea. Not really tea in the traditional sense, but tasty nonetheless. I got it and a bottle of honey in the bazaar yesterday.” He answered me.
“Funny, I didn’t figure you for a tea guy.” I needled him a bit.
“Oh, I’m just full of surprises. Just like you.” He saluted me with his mug. “Jason seems to be recovering nicely. He isn’t eating though, have you noticed?”
“I guess not. He hasn’t said much since the incident in Danville. Is that normal for people who have had a run in with demons?” I asked, a worried feeling starting in the pit of my stomach.
“Demon possession, even a minor case of it isn’t a natural state for humans. We should just give him a little time.” He patted my hand reassuringly, “I spoke to him a little before he got you up. He doesn’t remember anything after he went into the sulfur cloud in the hotel until he woke up in the office at the club. It’s probably best to keep it that way. Let him come to you when he gets ready to talk about it.”
“Oh. Alright then.” I said behind my mug. I was a little miffed that Jason was talking to Jeff and not me in the first place. But, I guess Jeff had been the only one up.
“You know, we all got really lucky in Danville. I am shocked that we survived.” There was a hanging pause, as if he was trying to decide how to say something. “This is probably a sign of things to come. Have you thought about what you are going to do in Paxton when and if the Demons show up there?”
“First of all, I don’t know what the Demons could possibly want in Paxton. And if they do manage to get out to my mom’s place, well, I guess we’ll just deal with it then. Maybe we should have you put some circles down or something.” I said.
“I don’t think I am going to be staying with you in Paxton.” What was that!? Of course he was staying with us, how would we survive the Demons? “ I really need to be in a larger city where I can do more good. I am thinking of going to Chicago.”
“Oh.” I felt really let down. “How will you be getting there?”
“Well, I thought I might show you how to build some of the barriers in Paxton. Teach you a few things. But ultimately, if I can spend some time at the Paxton checkpoint I can probably catch a ride with someone or get on a shuttle.” He seemed to sense my panic. “You are really going to have to figure out how you will survive on your own.”
“I know, and I am very grateful that you are going to take some time to help us learn how to do what you do.” I said, maybe he will decide he wants to stay after all.
“What if…you had to get by without any of us?” he asked. “I mean, what if all of us were gone tomorrow? What would you do?”
“First of all, that’s not going to happen.” I was getting testy. “And, I would be fine. It isn’t an ideal scenario, but I would figure it out.”
“I believe you would.” He said thoughtfully. “But you’re right. Chances are that your group will be together for a long time.”
“Hmmm.” I couldn’t determine where he was going with that. But, I didn’t like it.
We passed the rest of the shift watching the limited night traffic and people in the camps around us. There were a few visits from our neighbors, mostly looking to barter or for news. We skirted discussing Demon infestations with them, instead putting a human spin on events in Danville. It wouldn't do to be ignored as an outright quack if the object was to prevent innocent people from stumbling into Danville. So the Demon touched became a gang that wore trench coats and the Demons themselves became some vague chemical weapon that smelled of sulfur and was to be avoided at all costs.
In return we were warned off of going south on I57, it was shut down at the Tuscola checkpoint indefinitely. Apparently a wave of unprecedented violence in the southern end of the state was just too much.
As the sun came up, Chris stumbled blearily back to the camp. He clearly had more fun than I did, I hadn’t even realized he was gone. In a bizarre ritual of absolution, going back to our high school years, he presented me with a pair of sunglasses. They were cheap pink plastic, put they worked well enough. It’s good to be queen!
***************
We were herded off the Interstate upon approach to the Rantoul checkpoint. In fact, the whole road was blocked off. This wasn’t good…
We were directed to yet another giant overflowing parking lot. Having learned from our last experience though, we chose to drive on towards downtown Rantoul. We could be stuck in one of those parking lots for days once our names got on a list.
We drove past old vacant fast food restaurants and gas stations until we hit a residential area. Clearly it used to be a well to do area, but its proximity to the Interstate had caused the owners to vacate. We pushed on a little further, knowing that between this area and the old downtown was a decent residential area where we could get our bearings.
Pulling over to the side of a shaded tree lined street we decided that we were probably going to have to risk driving the back roads to Paxton. It was only about fifteen miles. We shifted our weapons about within the car, Jeff took the wheel and we made two piles of possible projectiles in case we had to throw things.
As we pulled out of the other side of the ghost town that was once Rantoul, Former Home of Chanute Air Force Base, we saw signs directing us to the New Illiniwek Retreat area. We could only imagine what that meant…
There was an open barricade set up on the road just outside of Rantoul with a group of three people in folding lawn chairs sitting next to it. We slowed down for the barricade and Jeff lowered his window to talk to one of them. They said that they weren’t there to keep anyone from passing. Just to monitor things and help travelers out. That was nice to see. When they heard about the closing of the Interstate they invited us to follow them back to the Retreat. Figuring it was probably pirates; that meant that a pirate presence could be expected on this road, RT 45.
Hunkering down didn’t sound like a bad idea to me. I was curious about this Retreat anyway. We pulled off to the side as the lawn chair people uncovered a hidden ATV pulling a wagon.
Chris didn’t like the idea of stopping again, especially since we were so close. Jason didn’t seem to care one way or the other. I thought this Retreat might prove to be a future resource and Jeff said that we shouldn’t get reckless just because we were close. The truth is, we were all scared of the trip down Rt45. Getting some information before we got underway couldn’t be a bad idea.
We pulled onto a paved road to the left, going towards some railroad tracks. Then just before we reached the tracks it turned into a gravel road, we crossed the tracks and then followed a dirt path through an overgrown field across a road and through another tended cornfield that became a vegetable garden in the middle. It was very impressive really.
As we came out the other side and across another road we saw some old pole barns, a farmhouse and a large campground in the back yard. We slowly bumped along into the front yard, an area set aside for visitors. The folding chair people asked us to wait there for a moment. A greeter would come out to speak with us shortly. There were signs all around proclaiming that All were welcome here, please show courtesy and respect to Everyone on the premises, if you need something please ask-thieves will no longer be welcome, the chairs under the large blue tarp are for the elderly only.
A tall very tanned woman walked out of the farmhouse towards us. She looked like she was in her forties and she had a calm competent air about her. I liked her immediately.
“The watcher’s told me a little about you and what’s going on. Are you all right? Anyone hurt, anyone hungry?” She asked, genuine concern on her face. Seeing that we weren’t in immediate danger of expiring on the spot she handed us small cloth bundles.
“These are tobacco offerings and sage bundles. It is polite to present the tobacco to the residents here if you ask them for help with anything and you’ll want to mindfully cleanse yourself and your area with the sage smoke once you get settled.” With that, she pulled out a hand rolled smoke that became the first in an amazing chain of them. Her name was Jill and we should park the car off to the side and follow her in.
Ok, I was a little leery of leaving the car parked where we couldn’t see it. So were the guys, but the overall sense of safety here outweighed our doubts.
Jill took us around to the back side of the house, past several other campers waving and smiling at us, past a large empty arena area with a pavilion in the center, past the old people tarp and to an empty patch of land recently vacated by previous campers.
“This is a great spot, I’m a little jealous.” She said, “You have a nice tree and some bushes behind you. Take care that you don’t trample them down. We are in the process of expanding the green area around us, and the smallest sapling or bush is critical. You’ll be able to observe the flow of events from here before you join in. And you should observe first. We have some customs here that we observe that outsiders don’t always get right away.”
“I should probably tell you that we consider ourselves to be part of the Illiniwek tribe of Native Americans. Most of us and probably most of you have ancestral roots within other tribes throughout the country. However, in order to live in the good and traditional way of Native Americans everywhere, we have had to evolve our sense of the word Tribe. The Illiniwek were actually a group of tribes that shared language and customs, and that is true once again. We have had visits from descendents of the old Illiniwek periodically and they have given us their approval I am proud to say.” She paused to light up her sage bundle, “I am just going to purify your area here, watch what I am doing so that you can do the same later.”
The guys and I looked at each other. They seemed as mystified as I did, but willing to keep an open mind.
“Listen, after you get your tents up come back up to the main house. You can stay here as long as you need to, but we would like to figure out what you may be able to do for us in return. Every person here is a drain on the system in some way, so contributions of time, knowledge or items are helpful.” She said turning on her efficient heel and walking off. “I’ll see you in about an hour then.”
I guess we had a schedule! That’s ok, it only took us about 20 minutes to set up. We felt a little overwhelmed; I don’t think any of us had camping in mind when we first started following the folding chair people. But we acclimated to the idea surprisingly quickly. Besides, I had a feeling that when we got ready to leave that these people could tell us how to do it safely.
As we pounded the tent spikes into the ground, a very fit looking gentleman with long dark hair casually walked by, dropping tobacco onto the ground and mumbling something. He nodded his head at us with an almost sheepish grin on his face. I got the distinct impression that he was taking care of something for us that we were too oblivious to see.
“Do you think they would care if you put down one of your circles here?” I asked Jeff.
“Oh, I’m putting one down somewhere. It just might be in the tents instead of out in the open. That’s something we should ask about when we go see Jill again.” He answered, dropping down onto a blanket on the ground in front of our tent. We all joined him a moment later and savored the afternoon sunshine for a few minutes.The air was stirred by a gentle breeze that smelled of dirt, green and tobacco. It was a comforting combination that put us all in a positive mood, allowing the fear and stress to melt off of us. The light murmur of people around us wasn’t intrusive, even when a band of laughing children ran past us.
Wednesday, November 26, 2008
Ch.3 Athena's Iniquitous Gift
Chapter 3
"You can discover what your enemy fears most by observing the means he uses to frighten you." - Eric Hoffer
Chris and I looked at each other dumbfounded. I pulled out my gun, crouched low and moved to the outside edge of the building, before it met the sidewalk. Chris went to check on Jason before he moved up behind me. The sound of scratching chalk could be heard just barely over the wail of sirens a few blocks away.
The sound of my heart pounding made it impossible to hear anything. I kept telling myself that I had to just pull the trigger- ask questions later. Anyone who is running down the street after us now, or comes around that corner does NOT have our best interest in mind. Right?
I felt Chris breath on my cheek as he knelt to whisper in my ear. He brushed his lips lightly on my face.
Startled, I looked up at him. He looked scared and worried and as if he had come to a decision.
Then he stepped away from me and out onto the sidewalk. A silent ‘No Chris, we’ll get out of this too.’ died on my lips as he took off running to the left. I felt like I had been punched in the gut, and tears misted my eyes.
I blinked them back and covered him as far as I could see him, straining to hear the sounds of Trench Coats. I was promptly rewarded with the heavy pattering of shoes slapping cement, coming from the right side. Maybe they had seen Chris step out and were following him, they might run right past us. Then I felt guilty for my hope.
I put my back to the wall, willing myself to bleed into the shadows. I had my breath held and was trying to make my heart beat more quietly when the running men crested the alley. They didn’t even slow to look.
The footsteps receded and I tried to listen for sounds of a confrontation. Then I heard shouts, they sounded like they were about two blocks away. I shut my eyes, blood rushing through my brain mercifully drowning out the sounds of fighting.
I felt a hand on my shoulder and looked up at Jeff. He helped me to my feet and brought me into a large circle. He had already put Jason and our bags into it. I noticed Chris had left his bag with ours.
Jeff gently turned my chin so I was looking up at him. His look of kind concern put me over the edge and tears coursed freely down my cheeks.
“Ok,” he said gently, brushing them off with his thumbs. “You are going to have to wait to do that. I still need you and so do your two guys. Chris is fast, I expect him to come tearing around the corner any minute now. Stay focused for us just a little while longer okay?”
I nodded and he moved his hand to my shoulder reassuringly. I snuffled and tried to reset myself. He might be right, Chris ran track in high school after all. He was in better shape than most people our age.
The sounds of a fight intensified and I tried to steel myself for the worst.
Jeff was doing something with his hands, and then I could feel a Whoosh of air and a bright light flashed in the middle of the circle. My ears popped with a change in pressure.
Everything but the sirens had fallen eerily silent. Then I could hear the running feet again, coming right for us.
“It’s up. Remember, don’t step outside the circle. Keep an eye on Jason too.” Jeff said facing the entrance to the alley.
Three Trench Coats rounded the corner into our alley, and came to a halt just inches from the circle. They appeared to be sizing us up, and then one of them nodded with an evil smile crossing his lips. The other two stood behind him watching us as the one with the charming smile sat down crossing his legs.
Smiley gazed at Jeff as he began a low voiced chant that seemed to make the ground quake. I ducked down, thinking that the cinder block walls above us would crash in at any moment.
“You have to make a decision. You can stay and probably die fighting for Jason. Or you can run and I’ll keep them busy. They are more interested in me right now anyway, and to be honest, I stand a better chance of saving Jason than you do. I have about one minute left on this circle before they bring it down.” Jeff called out loudly, sweat running down his neck.
“I’m staying with Jason and you.” I didn’t add, “Where would I go?”
I situated myself between the Trench coats and Jason, and prepared myself as best I could mentally. I had eleven shots left. I had another full clip in my bag, but I was under no illusions about being able to reload quickly enough to make a difference.
Jeff was pulling on some wicked looking gloves. They appeared to be heavy leather with a very intimidating set of brass knuckles set into them. I had to look away when I realized they had bits of gore embedded in the tines over the knuckles.
I felt another popping sensation beginning to build in my ears. The standing Trench Coats took a step back from us as Smiley began to get up off the ground. They all backed away from us, as if waiting for something to explode.
“This will be loud and very bright. Close your eyes so you don’t lose your night vision. You’ll know when you can open them again.” Jeff said softly behind me.
I did as I was told, felt my ears pop as a loud roaring sound like a jet engine revved up. The backs of my eyelids lit up and my eyes watered. Then it was quiet. I snapped my eyes open just in time to see a black Vega plow into the three Trench Coats.
“Oy, come on, get in.” Chris yelled at us, grinning crazily.
I spun around grabbing our bags; Jeff already had Jason over his shoulder.
I could hear movement out on the street, but I was too terrified to look. Just move Lucy, keep moving, I told myself over and over.
As I came out of the alley, Jeff had Jason loaded in and was pushing the seat back. He stood up as a Trench Coat hurtled into him. I finished tossing the bags in just as the other two got up off the ground, moving rapidly towards me. Chris yelled at me to just get in the fookin’ car.
Of course, I shot the two Trench Coats on my side of the car instead. I shot them a lot, and they slowed down. I looked over at Jeff, who was diving into the front passenger seat. I slid in behind Chris.
“Go, go, go…” I yelled, feet coming off the pavement just as the door swung shut.
Chris floored it, nicking one of the Trench Coats I had just put many holes in. He spun around with a sickening crunch that I couldn’t really hear. His knees just looked as if they had been smashed and twisted and my brain supplied the appropriate sound effects. The other two Coats were still down. I don’t know what Jeff had done, but he had done it better than my Beretta apparently. The two I shot were still attempting to give chase.
Jeff directed our careening car all over an industrial area and into what looked like a red light district. There were other vehicles on the street and people, mostly desperate looking women walking around. Jeff told us to pull over to the side.
“Look, I need to get some help here. I need to find a guy by the name of Phineas, with long black dreads and blue eyes. I’ll be right back. Don’t lower your window for anyone but Phineas or me. Lucy, keep your gun where people outside the car can see it.” Jeff said in what I was finding to be his usual staccato burst.
I watched him walk away, keeping my gun raised to window level. More than one person looked like they might approach once Jeff was gone, but were deterred by the sight of the gun.
*************
“I’m so glad you came back.” I said lamely, squeezing Chris’ shoulder. “You could have told me what you were doing, you know.”
“No time. Besides, would you have let me go?” Chris asked with an arched brow.
I didn’t answer and he nodded to himself. I leaned over to check on Jason. He was still breathing, but still out cold.
“Chris, I am really worried about Jason. He needs medical help. This has gotten out of hand.” I said, as if I had been waiting to voice the obvious.
“Well, we can’t leave Jeff here. We don’t know where to find a functioning hospital. And, you know as well as I that there is more wrong with Jason than a hospital is likely to fix.” Chris answered me, watching the people around us closely.
None of them were wearing trench coats.
***********
About fifteen long minutes later, Jeff came trotting up to the car.
“Well, we can’t stay here.” He said, as if that was ever really a good option. “I am going to take you back to my place. But if Jason wakes up, you are going to have to knock him back out.” Jeff said, looking me in the eye.
“Look, I appreciate your help with everything. I really do, but I am not causing any more damage to Jason.” I said, returning Jeff’s steady gaze.
“Okay.” He answered simply. He took his hand off the door handle and said, “You are on Oak St. Gilbert is the next one over. Follow the signs to get you out to the Interstate. You may be stuck at the exit lot for a while, they had some trouble earlier.”
Then he took a step away from the car.
“Wait, Jeff!” Chris called, leaning over. “Look, Jason needs help. If you say knocking him out is best then we’ll do it. But you are the only one who seems to know what has happened here. We need your help.” I could have knocked Chris out right about then. But, to a certain extent he was right.
Jeff let himself back in with a slight smirk for my benefit. He motioned for Chris to pull out and begin driving.
We went a few blocks before turning into another alley. I kept an eye on Jason, but I still had no intention of knocking him back out.
Jeff got out of the car when we stopped in front of a set of black painted wooden double doors at a service entrance to one of the old buildings. The buildings here looked like they used to house industrial businesses. Most were all boarded up in the back.
Jeff unlocked the doors and swung them wide. I was surprised to see a brick design in the floor and plastic tables with closed umbrellas and chairs turned upside down on them. There were faded fake ivy plants in hanging baskets all around.
Jeff moved some of the tables out of the way, motioning us to pull in. Slowly Chris got the Beast maneuvered into place. As we climbed out, Jeff closed the doors, sliding a heavy bar into place. The inside of the walls were covered in writing, similar to the hotel walls, without the creepiness. We seemed to be in some sort of courtyard.
Jeff walked up to a glass door with plywood on the inside and opened it. He pulled Jason out of the back seat with some help from Chris and we all went inside. It was pitch black, but Jeff had one of those shake lights so we could follow him forward on a tile floor. When we hit carpeting he took a left and then went up some stairs.
Inside a large room Jeff lit some candles and it looked like we were in an office. It had two large metal desks and a couch and table. We settled Jason on the couch.
“This is an old night club.” Jeff announced. “It has emergency lighting wired directly into a few solar cells on the roof. I keep the lights covered, but I’ll pull the coverings off while I give you the tour. It doesn’t get much brighter in here during the day because everything is boarded up, so try to get a good feel for the place. Jason can stay on the couch because it’s in a circle. If he is anything other than the Jason you know and love, he won’t be able to leave it.”
After that cryptic statement, we followed Jeff back down the stairs and waited while he pulled ropes attached to cloth coverings for the emergency lights. They were actually pretty bright and we could see an enormous cavern of a room. There was a horseshoe shaped bar in the middle and pool tables on the side with the office. As we crossed to the other side we saw a set of stairs going up, a large dance floor with a stage and a seating area. We turned and went up the stairs pausing at the mezzanine level before continuing to the 3rd level. It had its own bar, small dance floor and pool table. The place was huge! Towards the back on the 3rd level were two dressing rooms for bands; they both had ratty old couches and chairs, mirrors and tables.
“You can sleep in these rooms if you need to. They aren’t much, but they were good enough for Dr. Hook and Edgar Winter back in the day.” Jeff gestured to the couches. I wasn’t sure if I recognized the names he was tossing out.
He took us across the aisle to the 3rd floor dance floor. On the backside it had a large door with a padlock on it. Jeff took it off, it hadn’t been latched. Inside, when he turned his flashlight on it, we could see a very large service elevator.
“This thing doesn’t take any electricity. It’s all about counterweights.” He said stepping in and grabbing a rope to the side. The thing lurched a bit and he tried another rope, this time the car moved smoothly downward to the 1st floor. He pushed open the door and we stepped out.
“I turned the water service on out at the road. City workers don’t have time to come out and check these old buildings unless there is some sort of emergency, so no one has come to shut me down yet. There are bathrooms below my office and over there,” he said pointing below the mezzanine. “I recommend using the ones below the office.”
No one was tired enough to sleep, so we followed Jeff back to his office. Jeff had a damp bar towel that he was using to try to wake Jason. We tried shaking him, yelling at him and sprinkling water on his face. Nothing seemed to be working.
“Ok. This is not normal. Agreed?” Jeff asked us, we nodded.
“I am going to try something different. Don’t interrupt me once I get started, don’t step into the circle with him unless I say to and if you don’t think you can follow those rules you may want to leave the room for a while.” He said looking right at me.
“What!? I am going to sit right over here until you are done.” I said, sitting behind the desk.
Chris leaned against the wall opposite me. Jeff sat down on the table across from the couch. He took his coat off, pulling a Bible from an inner pocket. This was a seriously muscular man. He wore a wife beater tank top and cargo pants. There were scars of varying types on his arms and shoulders and an eight-pointed compass tattooed on his right shoulder. He wasn’t what you would call conventionally good looking. He was attractive in an ‘I‘m glad you don’t want to rip my head off’ relieved sort of way. The scar running through his right eyebrow and broken nose added to his dangerous looks.
He began to chant in Latin. One hand on his Bible, one hand on a cross he wore around his neck. I seriously doubted he was a minister or priest, but he seemed very assured.
******************
Jason’s eyes began to tremble as if he was deep in a REM state. His whole body went rigid and he sat bolt upright on the couch, as if pulled by invisible threads.
“You!” he exclaimed in a raspy voice. He was looking right at Jeff.
“Nobody say anyone else’s name right now.” Jeff called out to us. Then looking at Jason, “ You don’t belong here do you? Why don’t you just go back home?”
Jason turned to look at Chris and me and then looked back at Jeff. He didn’t respond.
“Do you or do you not belong here? Is this person your willing host?” Jeff asked again.
Jason shuddered at the questions, as if ducking a blow. He twisted on the couch to look at me.
“Answer the question. Do you have a valid claim on this person?” Jeff asked, louder this time.
“Lucy, this guy is nuts. Get me out of here.” Jason pleaded with me. But his eyes had a creepy vacancy to them. I resisted the temptation to answer him; I was feeling very out of my element.
A look of frustrated rage I’ve never seen before flitted across Jason’s features.
“Answer the question Demon! Do you have a valid claim on this man?” Jeff yelled loudly. “You must leave now if you do not have a valid claim. Leave now, Demon…”
Jason began to tremble and thrash on the couch. I caught a whiff of sulfur in the air and the olfactory memory made my heart pound.
“You don’t have the strength to keep this one do you? Your connection is weakening as we speak. Find an easier victim. Oh, that’s right. You burned them all up in the fire last night didn’t you? You didn’t even reap the benefits of that sacrifice did you? Who did? Who did you do it for? Were you punished for letting us escape?” Jeff asked in rapid succession. “You didn’t even get to keep her did you?”
That last statement seemed to have an effect on Jason. His trembling intensified and he slumped forward screaming, “That Bitch! That Bitch! I should have ripped your head off you whore of an abomination…”
He went quiet except for a loud rattling exhalation.“Did either of you hear him use a name for the Demon?” Jeff asked.
“Yeah, I think it started with a B. Bath something.” I replied.
“Bath! Bath! You lost! You are weak and you lost to a few low order humans! Go home, Bath. Get out, Bath!” Jeff yelled again, loudly. His right hand was palm out towards Jason; his left was on the Bible. I kept expecting him to call upon his faith or God’s name for extra oomph, but he never did.
Jason tilted over on the couch and nearly rolled off. He didn’t respond to Jeff.
“I think it’s done. The Demon never had a really good tie to Jason. I think Jason is just sleeping now. Lets give him a little time, possession takes a lot out of a person.” Jeff said getting up and heading for the office door.
Demons and Possessions. That was just too much for me. I stepped over to the couch and started to shake Jason awake.
“You probably don’t want to do that. Unless you want another express flight across the room.” Jeff said over his shoulder, “And if you’re going to be stupid, I ain’t gonna save you this time.”
Down the stairs he went. Chris looked at me incredulously. He sighed and sat on the coffee table across from me. Jason opened his eyes and mumbled something incoherently.
I suddenly felt a little scared, remembering the glowing black eyes of the “Demon”. I shivered and pulled Jason onto my lap, stroking his hair.
***********
The smell of cooking meat wafted up into the office about twenty minutes later. It was apparently just the thing to bring Jason around.
We sat at a large round table next to the bar and ate canned corned beef hash mixed with fried eggs. We all had our fingers and toes, and we could remember our names. I’d call that a win.
It turns out that Jeff had a life before we came along. Before everything went bad in the world, Jeff was your average every day blue-collar automotive factory worker. He was happily married with two kids. His wife got an opportunity for a good job about two hours away and took it. Then she took the kids and everything they owned. They got divorced three months after she started the new job. She got remarried and Jeff found God again.
He lost his job, like so many others, when the trucking industry took a dive. With no raw materials coming in and not much finished product going out- there simply wasn’t enough work for people.
Jeff became part of the horde of homeless that every larger city contends with now. While staying at the Catholic Church, he learned a few things about good and evil. He saw a lot of violence on a daily basis, most of it borne out of desperation. And he began to see a pattern.
Quiet unassuming people began to do perfectly awful things. Things like skinning animals alive, reproducing crucifixions and explosive beatings. They always wore trench coats for some reason. And they would gather together as if communicating telepathically. They almost seemed like a flock of watchful crows.
As time went on, it was clear to Jeff that this had to be the work of the Devil. He began to read everything he could find on exorcisms and other methods of dealing with the Devil and his minions. What he found in his research differed greatly from what actually worked in real life, and many of his Catholic friends died horribly, still clinging to useless conventions. It was faith that banished the Demons, not the trappings of a church. Crosses, holy water, wooden stakes- none of it did anything without unswerving faith.
Last night was a major turning point in Jeff’s battle for the Good. A sacrifice of that magnitude signaled that something much bigger was on the horizon. Jeff wasn’t sure where he was going, but he knew he didn’t want to be around for the next chapter in Danville history. This town was lost as far as he was concerned.
When noon rolled around we decided to start taking shifts keeping watch. We couldn’t be sure that the Interstate was going to be open today and we didn’t want to risk getting caught waiting for it. If we absolutely had to we could take non-interstate roads tomorrow, but the stories coming in about those were very disturbing.
Jeff had built and arranged blinds on the roof, so that Chris and Jason could sit in them undetected by people on the ground or the taller building across the street. It afforded us a great view of all of the movement immediately around the nightclub.
Jeff joined me in my room on the third floor, sitting on the coffee table across from me on the couch. I found myself checking the floor for another circle, and wouldn’t you know there was one!
“What’s on your mind Jeff?” I asked, the long tense hours giving my sunny disposition an edge.
“What exactly are you?” he asked me simply.
Again with the shocked silence! My inner confusion must have shown.
“Look, you should be dead already.” Jeff explained, adding to my confusion. “That Demon should have had you under his control and used you up by now. He knew your name, and that didn’t even faze you. You hurt him somehow. That’s why he threw you back.”
“I don’t know.” And I really didn’t. “I am as baffled as you are about that. I remember what you are describing and you are right. I felt myself going under, and then It screamed and I screamed and I was sailing back across the room. I don’t understand it either.”
“I’ve never seen anyone survive an encounter of that sort. Jason isn’t the only person to be brought back from a minor possession, but no one has been in the claws of a Demon and lived to my knowledge.” Jeff said quietly, studying me.
Feeling overly scrutinized, I leaned forward to shift my legs up onto the couch. Jeff reached out to catch my hands, holding them still, looking into my eyes. I returned his gaze, my heart beating wildly.
He reached up and brushed my hair out of my eyes, tucking it behind my ears. I froze, unsure of his intentions and unsure of my own self-control. On the one hand I couldn’t deny that I felt safer with him around. But on the other, this was a violent man. If he decided I was the enemy, he could put down some serious damage.
“I, um, you should take this chance to get some rest.” He seemed to gather himself not meeting my eyes anymore. He left the room, shutting the door behind him. I felt a strange sense of loss, as if an important moment had passed and I didn’t appreciate it. I shut my eyes, mulling over our discussion.
A few minutes later, Jason came into the room. He said that Jeff had decided to take his shift. Jason’s color had improved, but he had a haunted look in his eyes. He laid down on the other couch; I don’t think either of us slept much.
Emergency services were very busy all through the day and night. We heard a lot of gunfire and at least one sizeable explosion. In the morning we decided to get back on the road, taking Jeff with us. We were pretty crowded in the Vega, but we couldn’t leave him behind. Even though he had suddenly gone all nervous around me, I was still oddly comforted by his presence. I even volunteered to sit in the back with him. We didn’t say much.The Interstate was open, but the checkpoints were overloaded. People were fleeing Danville in droves. I wondered how many of them were really just people and how many were Demon Touched like Jason, spreading out like a virus.
Maybe it was just Danville.
"You can discover what your enemy fears most by observing the means he uses to frighten you." - Eric Hoffer
Chris and I looked at each other dumbfounded. I pulled out my gun, crouched low and moved to the outside edge of the building, before it met the sidewalk. Chris went to check on Jason before he moved up behind me. The sound of scratching chalk could be heard just barely over the wail of sirens a few blocks away.
The sound of my heart pounding made it impossible to hear anything. I kept telling myself that I had to just pull the trigger- ask questions later. Anyone who is running down the street after us now, or comes around that corner does NOT have our best interest in mind. Right?
I felt Chris breath on my cheek as he knelt to whisper in my ear. He brushed his lips lightly on my face.
Startled, I looked up at him. He looked scared and worried and as if he had come to a decision.
Then he stepped away from me and out onto the sidewalk. A silent ‘No Chris, we’ll get out of this too.’ died on my lips as he took off running to the left. I felt like I had been punched in the gut, and tears misted my eyes.
I blinked them back and covered him as far as I could see him, straining to hear the sounds of Trench Coats. I was promptly rewarded with the heavy pattering of shoes slapping cement, coming from the right side. Maybe they had seen Chris step out and were following him, they might run right past us. Then I felt guilty for my hope.
I put my back to the wall, willing myself to bleed into the shadows. I had my breath held and was trying to make my heart beat more quietly when the running men crested the alley. They didn’t even slow to look.
The footsteps receded and I tried to listen for sounds of a confrontation. Then I heard shouts, they sounded like they were about two blocks away. I shut my eyes, blood rushing through my brain mercifully drowning out the sounds of fighting.
I felt a hand on my shoulder and looked up at Jeff. He helped me to my feet and brought me into a large circle. He had already put Jason and our bags into it. I noticed Chris had left his bag with ours.
Jeff gently turned my chin so I was looking up at him. His look of kind concern put me over the edge and tears coursed freely down my cheeks.
“Ok,” he said gently, brushing them off with his thumbs. “You are going to have to wait to do that. I still need you and so do your two guys. Chris is fast, I expect him to come tearing around the corner any minute now. Stay focused for us just a little while longer okay?”
I nodded and he moved his hand to my shoulder reassuringly. I snuffled and tried to reset myself. He might be right, Chris ran track in high school after all. He was in better shape than most people our age.
The sounds of a fight intensified and I tried to steel myself for the worst.
Jeff was doing something with his hands, and then I could feel a Whoosh of air and a bright light flashed in the middle of the circle. My ears popped with a change in pressure.
Everything but the sirens had fallen eerily silent. Then I could hear the running feet again, coming right for us.
“It’s up. Remember, don’t step outside the circle. Keep an eye on Jason too.” Jeff said facing the entrance to the alley.
Three Trench Coats rounded the corner into our alley, and came to a halt just inches from the circle. They appeared to be sizing us up, and then one of them nodded with an evil smile crossing his lips. The other two stood behind him watching us as the one with the charming smile sat down crossing his legs.
Smiley gazed at Jeff as he began a low voiced chant that seemed to make the ground quake. I ducked down, thinking that the cinder block walls above us would crash in at any moment.
“You have to make a decision. You can stay and probably die fighting for Jason. Or you can run and I’ll keep them busy. They are more interested in me right now anyway, and to be honest, I stand a better chance of saving Jason than you do. I have about one minute left on this circle before they bring it down.” Jeff called out loudly, sweat running down his neck.
“I’m staying with Jason and you.” I didn’t add, “Where would I go?”
I situated myself between the Trench coats and Jason, and prepared myself as best I could mentally. I had eleven shots left. I had another full clip in my bag, but I was under no illusions about being able to reload quickly enough to make a difference.
Jeff was pulling on some wicked looking gloves. They appeared to be heavy leather with a very intimidating set of brass knuckles set into them. I had to look away when I realized they had bits of gore embedded in the tines over the knuckles.
I felt another popping sensation beginning to build in my ears. The standing Trench Coats took a step back from us as Smiley began to get up off the ground. They all backed away from us, as if waiting for something to explode.
“This will be loud and very bright. Close your eyes so you don’t lose your night vision. You’ll know when you can open them again.” Jeff said softly behind me.
I did as I was told, felt my ears pop as a loud roaring sound like a jet engine revved up. The backs of my eyelids lit up and my eyes watered. Then it was quiet. I snapped my eyes open just in time to see a black Vega plow into the three Trench Coats.
“Oy, come on, get in.” Chris yelled at us, grinning crazily.
I spun around grabbing our bags; Jeff already had Jason over his shoulder.
I could hear movement out on the street, but I was too terrified to look. Just move Lucy, keep moving, I told myself over and over.
As I came out of the alley, Jeff had Jason loaded in and was pushing the seat back. He stood up as a Trench Coat hurtled into him. I finished tossing the bags in just as the other two got up off the ground, moving rapidly towards me. Chris yelled at me to just get in the fookin’ car.
Of course, I shot the two Trench Coats on my side of the car instead. I shot them a lot, and they slowed down. I looked over at Jeff, who was diving into the front passenger seat. I slid in behind Chris.
“Go, go, go…” I yelled, feet coming off the pavement just as the door swung shut.
Chris floored it, nicking one of the Trench Coats I had just put many holes in. He spun around with a sickening crunch that I couldn’t really hear. His knees just looked as if they had been smashed and twisted and my brain supplied the appropriate sound effects. The other two Coats were still down. I don’t know what Jeff had done, but he had done it better than my Beretta apparently. The two I shot were still attempting to give chase.
Jeff directed our careening car all over an industrial area and into what looked like a red light district. There were other vehicles on the street and people, mostly desperate looking women walking around. Jeff told us to pull over to the side.
“Look, I need to get some help here. I need to find a guy by the name of Phineas, with long black dreads and blue eyes. I’ll be right back. Don’t lower your window for anyone but Phineas or me. Lucy, keep your gun where people outside the car can see it.” Jeff said in what I was finding to be his usual staccato burst.
I watched him walk away, keeping my gun raised to window level. More than one person looked like they might approach once Jeff was gone, but were deterred by the sight of the gun.
*************
“I’m so glad you came back.” I said lamely, squeezing Chris’ shoulder. “You could have told me what you were doing, you know.”
“No time. Besides, would you have let me go?” Chris asked with an arched brow.
I didn’t answer and he nodded to himself. I leaned over to check on Jason. He was still breathing, but still out cold.
“Chris, I am really worried about Jason. He needs medical help. This has gotten out of hand.” I said, as if I had been waiting to voice the obvious.
“Well, we can’t leave Jeff here. We don’t know where to find a functioning hospital. And, you know as well as I that there is more wrong with Jason than a hospital is likely to fix.” Chris answered me, watching the people around us closely.
None of them were wearing trench coats.
***********
About fifteen long minutes later, Jeff came trotting up to the car.
“Well, we can’t stay here.” He said, as if that was ever really a good option. “I am going to take you back to my place. But if Jason wakes up, you are going to have to knock him back out.” Jeff said, looking me in the eye.
“Look, I appreciate your help with everything. I really do, but I am not causing any more damage to Jason.” I said, returning Jeff’s steady gaze.
“Okay.” He answered simply. He took his hand off the door handle and said, “You are on Oak St. Gilbert is the next one over. Follow the signs to get you out to the Interstate. You may be stuck at the exit lot for a while, they had some trouble earlier.”
Then he took a step away from the car.
“Wait, Jeff!” Chris called, leaning over. “Look, Jason needs help. If you say knocking him out is best then we’ll do it. But you are the only one who seems to know what has happened here. We need your help.” I could have knocked Chris out right about then. But, to a certain extent he was right.
Jeff let himself back in with a slight smirk for my benefit. He motioned for Chris to pull out and begin driving.
We went a few blocks before turning into another alley. I kept an eye on Jason, but I still had no intention of knocking him back out.
Jeff got out of the car when we stopped in front of a set of black painted wooden double doors at a service entrance to one of the old buildings. The buildings here looked like they used to house industrial businesses. Most were all boarded up in the back.
Jeff unlocked the doors and swung them wide. I was surprised to see a brick design in the floor and plastic tables with closed umbrellas and chairs turned upside down on them. There were faded fake ivy plants in hanging baskets all around.
Jeff moved some of the tables out of the way, motioning us to pull in. Slowly Chris got the Beast maneuvered into place. As we climbed out, Jeff closed the doors, sliding a heavy bar into place. The inside of the walls were covered in writing, similar to the hotel walls, without the creepiness. We seemed to be in some sort of courtyard.
Jeff walked up to a glass door with plywood on the inside and opened it. He pulled Jason out of the back seat with some help from Chris and we all went inside. It was pitch black, but Jeff had one of those shake lights so we could follow him forward on a tile floor. When we hit carpeting he took a left and then went up some stairs.
Inside a large room Jeff lit some candles and it looked like we were in an office. It had two large metal desks and a couch and table. We settled Jason on the couch.
“This is an old night club.” Jeff announced. “It has emergency lighting wired directly into a few solar cells on the roof. I keep the lights covered, but I’ll pull the coverings off while I give you the tour. It doesn’t get much brighter in here during the day because everything is boarded up, so try to get a good feel for the place. Jason can stay on the couch because it’s in a circle. If he is anything other than the Jason you know and love, he won’t be able to leave it.”
After that cryptic statement, we followed Jeff back down the stairs and waited while he pulled ropes attached to cloth coverings for the emergency lights. They were actually pretty bright and we could see an enormous cavern of a room. There was a horseshoe shaped bar in the middle and pool tables on the side with the office. As we crossed to the other side we saw a set of stairs going up, a large dance floor with a stage and a seating area. We turned and went up the stairs pausing at the mezzanine level before continuing to the 3rd level. It had its own bar, small dance floor and pool table. The place was huge! Towards the back on the 3rd level were two dressing rooms for bands; they both had ratty old couches and chairs, mirrors and tables.
“You can sleep in these rooms if you need to. They aren’t much, but they were good enough for Dr. Hook and Edgar Winter back in the day.” Jeff gestured to the couches. I wasn’t sure if I recognized the names he was tossing out.
He took us across the aisle to the 3rd floor dance floor. On the backside it had a large door with a padlock on it. Jeff took it off, it hadn’t been latched. Inside, when he turned his flashlight on it, we could see a very large service elevator.
“This thing doesn’t take any electricity. It’s all about counterweights.” He said stepping in and grabbing a rope to the side. The thing lurched a bit and he tried another rope, this time the car moved smoothly downward to the 1st floor. He pushed open the door and we stepped out.
“I turned the water service on out at the road. City workers don’t have time to come out and check these old buildings unless there is some sort of emergency, so no one has come to shut me down yet. There are bathrooms below my office and over there,” he said pointing below the mezzanine. “I recommend using the ones below the office.”
No one was tired enough to sleep, so we followed Jeff back to his office. Jeff had a damp bar towel that he was using to try to wake Jason. We tried shaking him, yelling at him and sprinkling water on his face. Nothing seemed to be working.
“Ok. This is not normal. Agreed?” Jeff asked us, we nodded.
“I am going to try something different. Don’t interrupt me once I get started, don’t step into the circle with him unless I say to and if you don’t think you can follow those rules you may want to leave the room for a while.” He said looking right at me.
“What!? I am going to sit right over here until you are done.” I said, sitting behind the desk.
Chris leaned against the wall opposite me. Jeff sat down on the table across from the couch. He took his coat off, pulling a Bible from an inner pocket. This was a seriously muscular man. He wore a wife beater tank top and cargo pants. There were scars of varying types on his arms and shoulders and an eight-pointed compass tattooed on his right shoulder. He wasn’t what you would call conventionally good looking. He was attractive in an ‘I‘m glad you don’t want to rip my head off’ relieved sort of way. The scar running through his right eyebrow and broken nose added to his dangerous looks.
He began to chant in Latin. One hand on his Bible, one hand on a cross he wore around his neck. I seriously doubted he was a minister or priest, but he seemed very assured.
******************
Jason’s eyes began to tremble as if he was deep in a REM state. His whole body went rigid and he sat bolt upright on the couch, as if pulled by invisible threads.
“You!” he exclaimed in a raspy voice. He was looking right at Jeff.
“Nobody say anyone else’s name right now.” Jeff called out to us. Then looking at Jason, “ You don’t belong here do you? Why don’t you just go back home?”
Jason turned to look at Chris and me and then looked back at Jeff. He didn’t respond.
“Do you or do you not belong here? Is this person your willing host?” Jeff asked again.
Jason shuddered at the questions, as if ducking a blow. He twisted on the couch to look at me.
“Answer the question. Do you have a valid claim on this person?” Jeff asked, louder this time.
“Lucy, this guy is nuts. Get me out of here.” Jason pleaded with me. But his eyes had a creepy vacancy to them. I resisted the temptation to answer him; I was feeling very out of my element.
A look of frustrated rage I’ve never seen before flitted across Jason’s features.
“Answer the question Demon! Do you have a valid claim on this man?” Jeff yelled loudly. “You must leave now if you do not have a valid claim. Leave now, Demon…”
Jason began to tremble and thrash on the couch. I caught a whiff of sulfur in the air and the olfactory memory made my heart pound.
“You don’t have the strength to keep this one do you? Your connection is weakening as we speak. Find an easier victim. Oh, that’s right. You burned them all up in the fire last night didn’t you? You didn’t even reap the benefits of that sacrifice did you? Who did? Who did you do it for? Were you punished for letting us escape?” Jeff asked in rapid succession. “You didn’t even get to keep her did you?”
That last statement seemed to have an effect on Jason. His trembling intensified and he slumped forward screaming, “That Bitch! That Bitch! I should have ripped your head off you whore of an abomination…”
He went quiet except for a loud rattling exhalation.“Did either of you hear him use a name for the Demon?” Jeff asked.
“Yeah, I think it started with a B. Bath something.” I replied.
“Bath! Bath! You lost! You are weak and you lost to a few low order humans! Go home, Bath. Get out, Bath!” Jeff yelled again, loudly. His right hand was palm out towards Jason; his left was on the Bible. I kept expecting him to call upon his faith or God’s name for extra oomph, but he never did.
Jason tilted over on the couch and nearly rolled off. He didn’t respond to Jeff.
“I think it’s done. The Demon never had a really good tie to Jason. I think Jason is just sleeping now. Lets give him a little time, possession takes a lot out of a person.” Jeff said getting up and heading for the office door.
Demons and Possessions. That was just too much for me. I stepped over to the couch and started to shake Jason awake.
“You probably don’t want to do that. Unless you want another express flight across the room.” Jeff said over his shoulder, “And if you’re going to be stupid, I ain’t gonna save you this time.”
Down the stairs he went. Chris looked at me incredulously. He sighed and sat on the coffee table across from me. Jason opened his eyes and mumbled something incoherently.
I suddenly felt a little scared, remembering the glowing black eyes of the “Demon”. I shivered and pulled Jason onto my lap, stroking his hair.
***********
The smell of cooking meat wafted up into the office about twenty minutes later. It was apparently just the thing to bring Jason around.
We sat at a large round table next to the bar and ate canned corned beef hash mixed with fried eggs. We all had our fingers and toes, and we could remember our names. I’d call that a win.
It turns out that Jeff had a life before we came along. Before everything went bad in the world, Jeff was your average every day blue-collar automotive factory worker. He was happily married with two kids. His wife got an opportunity for a good job about two hours away and took it. Then she took the kids and everything they owned. They got divorced three months after she started the new job. She got remarried and Jeff found God again.
He lost his job, like so many others, when the trucking industry took a dive. With no raw materials coming in and not much finished product going out- there simply wasn’t enough work for people.
Jeff became part of the horde of homeless that every larger city contends with now. While staying at the Catholic Church, he learned a few things about good and evil. He saw a lot of violence on a daily basis, most of it borne out of desperation. And he began to see a pattern.
Quiet unassuming people began to do perfectly awful things. Things like skinning animals alive, reproducing crucifixions and explosive beatings. They always wore trench coats for some reason. And they would gather together as if communicating telepathically. They almost seemed like a flock of watchful crows.
As time went on, it was clear to Jeff that this had to be the work of the Devil. He began to read everything he could find on exorcisms and other methods of dealing with the Devil and his minions. What he found in his research differed greatly from what actually worked in real life, and many of his Catholic friends died horribly, still clinging to useless conventions. It was faith that banished the Demons, not the trappings of a church. Crosses, holy water, wooden stakes- none of it did anything without unswerving faith.
Last night was a major turning point in Jeff’s battle for the Good. A sacrifice of that magnitude signaled that something much bigger was on the horizon. Jeff wasn’t sure where he was going, but he knew he didn’t want to be around for the next chapter in Danville history. This town was lost as far as he was concerned.
When noon rolled around we decided to start taking shifts keeping watch. We couldn’t be sure that the Interstate was going to be open today and we didn’t want to risk getting caught waiting for it. If we absolutely had to we could take non-interstate roads tomorrow, but the stories coming in about those were very disturbing.
Jeff had built and arranged blinds on the roof, so that Chris and Jason could sit in them undetected by people on the ground or the taller building across the street. It afforded us a great view of all of the movement immediately around the nightclub.
Jeff joined me in my room on the third floor, sitting on the coffee table across from me on the couch. I found myself checking the floor for another circle, and wouldn’t you know there was one!
“What’s on your mind Jeff?” I asked, the long tense hours giving my sunny disposition an edge.
“What exactly are you?” he asked me simply.
Again with the shocked silence! My inner confusion must have shown.
“Look, you should be dead already.” Jeff explained, adding to my confusion. “That Demon should have had you under his control and used you up by now. He knew your name, and that didn’t even faze you. You hurt him somehow. That’s why he threw you back.”
“I don’t know.” And I really didn’t. “I am as baffled as you are about that. I remember what you are describing and you are right. I felt myself going under, and then It screamed and I screamed and I was sailing back across the room. I don’t understand it either.”
“I’ve never seen anyone survive an encounter of that sort. Jason isn’t the only person to be brought back from a minor possession, but no one has been in the claws of a Demon and lived to my knowledge.” Jeff said quietly, studying me.
Feeling overly scrutinized, I leaned forward to shift my legs up onto the couch. Jeff reached out to catch my hands, holding them still, looking into my eyes. I returned his gaze, my heart beating wildly.
He reached up and brushed my hair out of my eyes, tucking it behind my ears. I froze, unsure of his intentions and unsure of my own self-control. On the one hand I couldn’t deny that I felt safer with him around. But on the other, this was a violent man. If he decided I was the enemy, he could put down some serious damage.
“I, um, you should take this chance to get some rest.” He seemed to gather himself not meeting my eyes anymore. He left the room, shutting the door behind him. I felt a strange sense of loss, as if an important moment had passed and I didn’t appreciate it. I shut my eyes, mulling over our discussion.
A few minutes later, Jason came into the room. He said that Jeff had decided to take his shift. Jason’s color had improved, but he had a haunted look in his eyes. He laid down on the other couch; I don’t think either of us slept much.
Emergency services were very busy all through the day and night. We heard a lot of gunfire and at least one sizeable explosion. In the morning we decided to get back on the road, taking Jeff with us. We were pretty crowded in the Vega, but we couldn’t leave him behind. Even though he had suddenly gone all nervous around me, I was still oddly comforted by his presence. I even volunteered to sit in the back with him. We didn’t say much.The Interstate was open, but the checkpoints were overloaded. People were fleeing Danville in droves. I wondered how many of them were really just people and how many were Demon Touched like Jason, spreading out like a virus.
Maybe it was just Danville.
Ch.2 Athena's Iniquitous Gift
Chapter 2
“Tattoo’s can be a window into someone’s soul or a shield against those who can’t see past the surface”-Tattoist saying
We pulled up in front of a gigantic red brick edifice. The understated sign above the old style doors said The Waalford. Clearly this was a very old hotel that had seen much better days. The term ‘Grand’ was probably used a lot in its heyday. As we circled the block, a large bald man watched us closely.
The minivan contained- I kid you not- George and Irene and their children George Jr and Ashley. Family unit type 1-A. They maneuvered into a parking garage about two blocks away from the Waalford. The lot was expensive, but manned. There were at least a dozen other functional looking vehicles parked in it so it was a pretty safe bet.
As we approached the Waalford we instinctively decided it would be best to walk on the opposite side of the street from the big bald guy. He was busily drawing something in chalk on the sidewalk and muttering to himself. He looked up from time to time as if on the verge of saying something.
When we got to the doors I was struck by the massive size of this building. Why on Earth would Danville ever need a hotel of this magnitude? Could it ever have been that prosperous?
As we filtered in the bald man hollered after us something to the effect of “don’t do it, you don’t want to do that”. I was glad when the doors shut.
That is, until I got a good look around. Talk about shabby! This place still had the same marble flooring and flocked velvet wallpaper it had started out with! Only now the floor was discolored, cracked and patched with quikcrete and the wallpaper had burn holes and was peeling from water damage. In some areas it looked like it had a mold or fungus. It had a large, non functional chandelier in the foyer.
There did appear to be an ample supply of lamps and some furniture that I wouldn’t be sitting on. George Jr & Ashley ran over and flopped on the greasy burgundy couch. I cringed.
An efficient looking woman appeared behind the desk and motioned us over. She took our ID’s and copied them and then informed us about the RULES! We could indeed rent rooms for the night. However, because this hotel catered to the elderly poor, our key cards would not give us access to anything above the 3rd floor. We were expected to be quiet and respectful of the other residents and guests at all times. We were also expected to be back in our rooms by mid night. The front desk would shut down and there would be no one to buzz us up after midnight. There would be NO REFUNDS if we got locked out of our rooms because we were late getting back! Any problems?
Well, what choice did we have at this point? There were other hotels closer to the Interstate, but I imagined that they were booked by the block when bombings occurred. Luckily, this hotel was cheap! So we forked over the cash and headed up.
The rooms echoed the tired décor of the rest of the hotel. But the beds appeared clean, with gold colored bedspreads. The kind with tassels on the corners. The bathrooms were a different story, covered with mineral deposits on the fixtures and rust stains. That’s what they made flip flops for isn’t it?
George and Irene were actually 1 floor above us because they needed a larger suite with the kids. To be honest, I was relieved. Sometimes traveling in too big of a group just made you slow. Dropping off some of our snacks later was going to be the extent of my responsibility for them.
Our 2nd floor windows were fairly utilitarian, but I didn’t feel cheated because a view of downtown Danville was hardly an inspiring sight. I pulled the blinds tighter and flopped down on my bed.
“We should probably just keep our heads down here. We can find out when the roads will open up again tomorrow. What do you want to do about supper?” Jason asked, looking at me, of course.
I cracked my right eye at him. Chris had joined in the expectant staring so I sighed as I sat back up.
“Well, I suppose we should go find a café or restaurant. We don’t want to use our supplies when we have others available.” I said. “Lets ask at the front desk.”
Chris picked up the phone experimentally. It was of an older style that only called in-house. It rang through to the front desk.
After some conversation that seemed to involve a lot of cutting Chris off, he determined that we were a short walk from an old diner. We packed everything that we couldn’t live without on us and took off.
*************
“Watch that bald guy there.” Chris muttered under his breath as we walked out the door. He had his hand on my elbow and was steadily tugging me behind him so I couldn’t have watched anything but his backside. Ok, I exaggerate.
Jason took up a flanking position next to me. I was pretty effectively boxed in unless I just stopped walking and let my bodyguards keep going. Block the chick with the gun, smaaart…
What I could see, when I stopped my sarcastic conversation with myself, was the bald guy standing on the corner we were walking towards. He was facing the corner across the street where a group of four young men were standing. Trench coats hung like uniforms on all of them, isn’t that odd…
The bald guy knelt down on one knee, facing away from us. The group on the corner appeared to get agitated, looking nervously from Baldy to us approaching. We slowed our walk. I reached into my jacket pocket; hand on the nine.
“Chris, we are going to walk right through this.” Jason intoned quietly. “Stay close to the building and try not to make eye contact.”
Which is exactly what we did. Baldy stayed on one knee, not even sparing a glance at us. The group on the corner went eerily still, following us with their collective gaze. It was altogether unsettling, like something from a Star Trek episode. Other than the trench coats, I couldn’t see any easily discernible connection between Baldy and the Foursome.
Once we had crossed the next street and turned towards the purported location of the diner we all let out a heavy breath.
“You saw that right? I mean, the oddity and all?” Chris blurted.
“Is that bald guy in trouble? Should we stay close enough to help or look menacing or something?” I asked Jason.
“I don’t think We want any part of what is going on with Them.” Jason chuckled out. We equaling puny humans, Them equaling too weird for puny humans. He kept moving forward and we followed, looking over our shoulders periodically.
************
The diner was exactly as imagined. No frills, expensive and slow. Venison stew was the main dish to be had although the pigeon was cheaper. None of us were going for cheap. We shared a pot of coffee with actual cream and sugar for dessert. All in all it was a decent meal. The staff acted like they hadn’t seen a woman in twenty years and it was nice for my ego. I found myself brushing my hair out of my face and tucking it behind my ears in the mirrored wall as we left the diner an hour later. I didn’t look half bad today, hmm.
I was feeling fairly fuzzy and warm as we ambled back towards our hotel. I actually reached for Chris and Jason’s hands as we walked. They looked at each other over my head, smirking. But they humored me. I got to enjoy it for all of a minute and a half.
We all seemed to realize at once that there were quite a few people in trench coats around us. And the people in trench coats had noticed us. We quickened our pace.
It was becoming habit for Chris to take the lead and Jason to stay on the outside of me. Jason again murmured our instructions to stay close to buildings and keep eye contact to a minimum.
I heard running steps behind us, but they sounded like they stopped at the corner we had just crossed from. As if we were being tailed, but not under direct attack.
I imagined this must have been what it was like to be near a race riot and be the wrong race. It was terrifying. My heart pounded and my breathing sounded too loud to me. Along with a silent prayer to please just let us make it to the next corner, I replayed in my mind over and over what I would do if we were set upon. Who would I shoot first, would the guys allow me to bring up the rear as they guided us to the hotel?
The prayer turned into please just let us make this turn onto our street. Still no overt aggression, just the sense of gathering trench coats.
As we turned onto the Waalford’s street we could see Baldy still manning his chalk drawings. He looked right at us, as if expecting us. We tensed and slowed. He seemed to be studying us, weighing us against the other trench coats. He seemed to come to some sort of conclusion and he beckoned us forward. The Foursome from earlier took exception to this and looked like they might intervene. They started across the road towards us on an intercept course. I brought my gun out and stepped up level with Chris. Jason let out a sharp breath and colorful adjective.
Chris allowed me to lead and Jason moved up next to me. I could hear Chris change direction and walk backwards behind us, one hand on the belt of my jacket so he could feel when we slowed or stopped.
Curiously, all of the worry and fear seemed to drain out. Everything took on a sense of clarity around me and slowed. I glanced at Baldy and gave him a ½ nod, effectively conveying to him that we were NOT in need of his assistance and he should remain where he was. Which telegraphed over to the approaching Foursome, just stepping off the curb. I snapped my gaze over to the guy I knew in my gut was leading this ill-conceived group of thuglings and sighted my gun directly in on his chest. Then, to my surprise, I called out:
“You’re first, Jackass!” in a clear, calm but forceful voice that I didn’t recognize. Apparently, neither did Jason or Chris because they both gave a start. I didn’t care; I was too busy calculating when I would have to start shooting in order to get them all before they got to us.
And then, would I have enough bullets left to cover us for the run to the doors of the Waalford…
The surprises just kept rolling in! The leader of the Foursome stopped dead in his tracks. He looked at us quizzically, almost in disbelief. Then they all backtracked to their corner again.
We kept moving at faster clip now towards Baldy. Keeping my eye on the Foursome and the handful of other trench coats we could see up & down the road now, we stopped on Baldy’s corner, standing on his chalk drawing.
“You’d better come with us. I don’t think you are going to be safe out here anymore.” I said, again in that calm voice. Where was that coming from?
“No. You had better leave this area now. Nobody is safe here.” He argued. Not successfully.
“Come on mate! We don’t ‘ave time to argue. Juust come into da ‘otel an we can talk there.” Chris put in, helpfully. “You don’t ‘ave to stay all night, just until whot ever’s ‘appening out here is duune.”
Chris’s accent was in full cockney swing. It’s a wonder Baldy understood him.
“You don’t understand, look, I’m telling you. You don’t want to stay in that hotel. You’re not going to be any safer in there than you are out here. The best thing is for all of you to get out of this area right now.” Baldy intoned emphatically.
The Foursome watched our exchange with interest. It was unnerving and I was ready to move. The Trench Coats seemed to be just waiting for us to follow Baldy’s advice, maybe so they could pick us off.
“We are going to go into the Waalford now.” Jason said quietly. “You may join us if you wish, but we will not be coming back out to check on you once we get safely inside.”
With that, Jason took a few steps towards the door, one hand lightly on my shoulder as I turned to keep my gun on the Foursome. Chris again was walking backwards. Jason swore softly to himself when we reached the door, panic spiked icily up my spine.
“It’s locked. Chris, look for a buzzer, but don’t let on that anything is wrong.” Jason murmured under his breath.
Chris looked for a moment and found a call button. He pressed it and we waited. It was only a matter of time before the trench coat brigade figured out that we were locked out. I wished Baldy would just join us; I didn’t like to think what might happen to him out here by himself.
A scratchy voice cut loudly across the tension, making us jump. “Registration name please.” A pause, then louder still, “Name of the registered resident please.”
Jason called out, “Millson, 3 overnight guests. Room 208.”
There was a buzz and a click as the door lock opened. Jason shouldered it open and ushered us inside, pushing my gun down and into my pocket as I passed him.
We looked around the lobby to report what was going on outside. But the lobby was empty. We waited a minute for the voice on the intercom to come back, but she didn’t. Jason stepped over to the front desk and rang the service bell.
A different buzzing sounded and a door at the end of the desk opened. The same dour woman came through, looking frazzled.
“Oh, I must’ve forgotten to tell you about the front door. When the nut jobs outside start up like that we lock it. Only residents and people they put on the list for the day can come in. You should probably stay in for the night.” She blustered, half turning to leave again, “Will there be anything else?”
“Uh, no. Thanks.” We muttered. She was gone before we finished.
We just stood there, a little stunned for a second. Jason turned and headed for the stairs and we followed. I was suddenly too exhausted to talk.
When we got back in our room we checked our booby traps and hairs to make sure nothing was disturbed. Everything appeared okay. We took a moment to congratulate ourselves on getting through yet another harrowing experience, the guys revealing a newfound respect for me. I shrugged the compliment off, mostly because I couldn’t be sure how backhanded it was. The guys were funny about things like that. Maybe they were really as surprised as I was at my behavior with the gun, or maybe they were saying that they didn’t think I had it in me to take care of myself.
Or, maybe I was just too tired to be thinking that hard about a compliment. I flopped back down on my bed, kicking off my shoes unsuccessfully. Chris flopped down on the other bed, and I swear began snoring before his head hit the pillow.
Jason turned the TV on low, finding one station. It was local and had some coverage of the interstate bombing earlier. He sat down at the foot of my bed and took my shoes off. While watching the TV, he lightly rubbed my feet until I slipped off sleep.
************
I woke up sweltering. The blanket I was laying on had been flipped over me, and Jason was lying on the bed next to me, one arm thrown over my waist. I slowly moved his arm off, and pushed the blanket over onto Jason. I got up and headed for the bathroom. I passed Chris, sprawled diagonally across his bed. His arms and legs flung out all crazy. Mercifully, he had stopped snoring.
It had to be close to mid-night. The light filtering from behind the blinds had changed and my internal clock told me I had only been out for about five hours.
I splashed some water on my face and brushed my teeth, examining myself in the mirror. My brown hair had gotten ridiculously long. It was shot through with shiny silver hairs that I started getting when I was fifteen. It made me look older and tired. Maybe I could get some Henna when we went through Champaign. Shiny reddish hairs had to be better than this.
I used to be pretty. Right after high school. I never had to make plans for the weekend because there was always someone planning to take me out. At one point, every surface in my bedroom was covered with floral bouquets because a quiet competition had started amongst my regular dates.
Pretty takes time and effort, though. And sometimes lots of product. I know, men always say they like natural beauty. But let me tell you, that Natural Look doesn’t come naturally! Natural women have extra hairs in inopportune places; they have skin discolorations, freckles and wrinkles. Their hair is wild and crazy without being tamed down with massive applications of heat and styling products. Without regular visits to the gym, some women even have pockets of fat!
True Natural Beauty is an acquired taste. And sometimes smell.
These days I don’t refer to myself as pretty so much as clean and fit. That’s as good as I think I can get at the moment, and frankly, it’s a lot less time consuming.
As I stepped out of the bathroom to rummage for my flip-flops, I caught a whiff of a strong noxious smell. Now, this is not an uncommon occurrence when with Jason and Chris. However, this smell was acrid in a poisonous way and was stronger near the door. It was like the sulfur smell from the well in Veedersburg, but much much stronger.
I cracked the door, caught sight of a yellowish cloud in the hall and closed it quickly.
“Guys, get up now!” I snapped out. “Get our stuff together and get ready to go out the window.”
“What… what are you….?” They both mumbled sleepily at me.
“Listen. To. Me.” I intoned clearly and slowly for them. “I think we are under a chemical attack, there is a cloud of gas in the hallway. I don’t think we can stay here.”
Jason sat upright, flinging the blanket off him. He padded over to the door, looking out the keyhole and wrinkling his nose.
“She’s right. We gotta go.” He stepped into the bathroom and began running water.
I was so glad that the expert had weighed in. Now, surely, we could leave.
But no, we couldn’t take action until my thought had been double confirmed by the other expert…
Chris walked right past the bathroom and opened the damned door. I was so appalled all I could do was reach forward and slam it shut again. Chris just turned and looked blankly at me.
“Uh, right. Lets go.”
“Don’t do that again,” Jason said calmly as he laid a wet towel across the bottom of the door. He handed us damp washrags and he kept a damp hand towel for himself. “Breathe through these if we hit any more gas clouds.”
He went over to the window trying to figure out how to unlatch it. Chris walked over and tried to help. It appeared to be stuck. On closer inspection, it looked as though the track the window was supposed to slide in had a coating of super glue over it.
As I threw our loose belongings into my duffel bag, Chris grabbed a chair and took a swing at the window. It bowed out, but didn’t break.
He tried again. It didn’t break. Jason tried it, with no luck as well. We all looked at each other, remembering what Baldy had said earlier.
“If we hold our breath maybe we can get down the hall.” I suggested.
“I think that is our best bet at this point. I don’t want to wait for whatever is next here. I’ll run down the hall first and make sure it’s clear for you guys. Then we’ll all go together.” Jason took some deep breaths, and then covered his mouth with his towel.
We flung the door open and then closed it. Chris watched out the peephole, I had my ear to the door listening to the thump thumping of Jason’s footsteps. They stopped abruptly.
“What’s hap-“ “Shhh, I can’t hear-”
A strangled sound came from the corridor. I looked up and Chris’s eyes were big as saucers.
“Come on. We’re leaving now!” I shouldered my bag; Chris grabbed his and Jason’s. I had my gun out when we opened the door.
The cloud seemed to have dissipated somewhat. I could see Jason leaning against the wall ahead of us, oddly still.
“Jason!” I called out loudly. My ears started to ring suddenly and I felt like all my energy got exhaled out when I called his name.
Jason, Jason, Jason came a strange echoing back to me as Jason slumped down the wall.
He was gasping for air when we got to him and pulling himself back up to his feet. He looked bewildered, I am sure mirroring my expression.
“What happened?” I started to ask.
“Lets move!” Chris said, heading for the door to the stairwell.
The door was locked. A sick feeling began in the pit of my stomach. This had all of the earmarks of a terrorist act we had read about in the papers a few months ago.
I noticed strange writing all over the walls around us, I didn't remember seeing it earlier. It wasn’t any language I was familiar with, but it had an Asian feel to it. As I watched, the writing seemed to writhe and change. I jumped backed, knocking into Chris who had also noticed it.
Feeling creeped out, we started pressing the buzzer repeatedly. Jason seemed to be dragging, not quite with it. Had we inhaled some sort of hallucinogenic?
A sharp scratchy voice came over the intercom. “Please return to your room. We are experiencing technical difficulties. You will receive a call when everything is cleared up.” It almost sounded recorded.
“Wait, we need help up here. We need you to unlock this door and evacuate the building.” Chris responded, pressing the buzzer again.
“Please return to you room sir.” was the answer.
“There is a cloud of gas up here. We are being poisoned. Open this door now.” I said loudly, banging on the door.
“We are aware of the situation Miss. Please return to your room.” was the reply. The sick feeling cranked up a notch.
“We should return to our rooms.” Jason said weakly behind us.
Chris and I both gaped at him for a moment, before looking at each other.
Chris pulled out his short pry bar and went to work on the door. I took aim at the buzzer box and fired. The lock actually clicked back and forth a few times, and Chris managed to catch it on the open cycle. He yanked the door open, and I pulled a lethargic Jason through it.
We fairly tumbled down the stairs. I spared a thought for people on the upper floors, but decided that the best way for me to help them would be to survive long enough to get help from outside.
I fired again at the 1st floor buzzer box. It didn’t work out as neatly as the one upstairs did, and the shot was deafening in the stairwell. I hoped other residents heard it and were alarmed. Again Chris went to work with his pry bar. It took a lot of effort and swearing, but eventually enough force was applied to the latch area to work everything but the bolt loose. His bar bit into the metal around it enough to give it some wiggle room.
Over the sounds of wrenching metal I could begin to hear hysterical screams coming from above us. Sweat poured down Chris’s brow. Jason just seemed dazed, like he had been hit over the head. I looked him over quickly, but I couldn’t see any bleeding.
Finally the door popped open. We went through and were greeted by the grisly sight of the dour front desk lady laid on the floor in a pool of blood. She was naked, with the strange writing carved into her doughy flesh. Her wrists had been cut and she had bled out. She was laid out in the form of a crucifixion inside an intricately drawn circle on the floor.
We cautiously looked around before heading towards the front door. There were about five other circles on the ground and the lingering sulfur smell from upstairs. There was no shortage of creepy writing on the walls around us. Jason just got more and more sluggish, and I was tugging on him by the time we got to the door.
Locked again! Chris leaped behind the front desk to look for the button to open it. Then he headed for the door at the end. It was locked as well.
He came back and took a swing at the front door with his pry bar. It bounced back ineffectually a few times. Then he grabbed a chair, let out a yell and swung. Again it bowed out, but didn’t break.
But this time I noticed a flare of writing illuminated on the glass, similar to what was written on the walls.
“Do it again Chris, but watch the glass this time.” I said.
He did and sure enough the writing fluoresced again. I brought my gun up, and was about to shoot when Baldy appeared outside the door. He was bleeding from a cut over his brow, and something viscous was dripping from his hands. He dropped to the ground when he saw my gun.
He raised his hands up as if to say don’t shoot, and then he indicated we should back up from the door a bit.
He had his chunk of chalk in hand and began to write something we couldn’t see on the door. We moved in closer to see what he was doing, but he frantically motioned us back.
Without realizing it, Chris and I both held our breath. Jason was slumped against me and beginning to mutter.
Suddenly, Jason stiffened and turned to face the far corner of the room, towards a circle on the floor in front of the front desk. The sulfur smell was growing stronger and a cloud was forming within the circle.
Panicked, I looked over my shoulder at Baldy. He was writing furiously in chalk that wasn’t showing up on the glass. I was having racing thoughts about all of the horror movies and books I’d ever read. I just couldn’t latch onto to anything pertaining to this.
I decided to crouch down, close to the door. I pulled Chris down with me and tried to get Jason to do the same. Jason was locked in place though, completely ignoring me. His eyes were glazed over and he was facing the troublesome circle in the back.
A very tall humanoid shape was forming in the sulfury cloud. I say humanoid because humans don’t get that tall, and something was wrong about it. I couldn’t put my finger on it…
As it coalesced before my eyes I realized it was staring at us. Specifically at Jason. I don’t know how to describe it; it was beautiful in a terrible dark way. It was black and leathery and shiny, with claws on its hands and horns on its head. Its eyes had a golden predatory glow to them.
It flicked its gaze at me and I felt it like a kick to the gut, the air whooshing out of me. It swung its gaze onto Jason, its pupils dilating to block out the golden glow.
“Jason.” It hissed. Its voice hurt my ears.
Jason dropped his hand to my shoulder, gripping it painfully.
“Bhaathim.” Jason said in a harsh unnatural tone.
Chris stood up and took a step back from Jason. I tried to do the same, but was held firmly in place.
“Jason, let me up.” I whimpered at him.
The thing in the circle took a step out and towards us. Fixing me with its terrifying gaze. I began to struggle.
“She will belong to me now.” It said, in inhuman tones. Reaching between its legs to fondle a previously invisible organ.
Ohhh no, that’s not an option. My brain was rapid fire informing me of the obvious.
Then I was flying through the air, towards the creature. My shoulder was on fire where Jason had been gripping it. I had time to realize that the landing was going to hurt before I crumpled like a pop can in a heap on the floor.
The creature reached an impossibly long claw down and yanked me up by my jacket, nose to nose with it. I felt a tug on my consciousness. It felt curiously like getting pulled under water by your feet at a swimming pool. Then I felt something dark and sticky wrap itself around my mind. It began to squeeze in a painful way and black spots formed in front of my eyes, a hissing static was all I could hear.
I don’t know how long it actually lasted, but just when I felt like something inside was going to break- a piercing shrieking noise cut through my head. Matched by a piercing shriek of my own.
I was again flying across the room, in the general direction I had come from. I must have landed on Chris because we were both in a heap on the floor. Chris got to his feet, shoving me out the now miraculously open door.
The cooler air outside smacked into me, snapping me out of my momentary daze. I looked around and saw that Baldy, Chris and Jason were with me in a chalk circle on the sidewalk just outside the door. Across the street, trench coated people silently watched us, periodically looking up at the upper floors of the Waalford.
I followed their gaze and saw to my growing horror that flames and smoke were spouting from open windows. I took a step away from the building to get some distance and was promptly yanked back by Baldy.
“Don’t step outside the circle. We will make a run for it when Emergency Services show up.” Baldy said in a not unkind voice. He saw my intent to argue, “Look Lady! You may ride all over these guys- but you ain’t drivin’ me. Just stay in the circle, we’ll get out of here just as soon as we catch a break.”
I was shocked and aghast! I couldn’t even think snarky thoughts. So a meek ‘OK’ was what Baldy got.
A closer inspection showed me that Jason was out cold. I looked over at Baldy accusingly, but he was otherwise occupied watching the Trench Coats across the street.
“Jason attacked me when Jeff over here got the door open.” Chris murmured in my ear, gesturing towards Baldy. “Jeff had to knock him out. I don’t know how he did it, but he’s a lot stronger than he looks. Something is seriously wrong with Jason; he tossed you like a beanbag across the room. I think I would have been in trouble if Jeff hadn't helped us all out the door.”
I rubbed my sore shoulder, wincing, remembering.
“Lets just hope he doesn’t come to anytime soon.” I said.
“You got that right.” Baldy, I mean Jeff said vehemently. “ I can’t keep this circle up and keep a Demon Touched under control. Here, you better take this. I can trust you to use it on him can’t I?”
He handed me a stun baton. Wow. I’ve never actually used one before; I wonder how bad it hurts…
“Hey! Missy. Eyes on the Demon Touched.” Jeff barked at me, and winked. Yes, I said winked.
“She’s got a mean streak doesn’t she?” he asked Chris, who nodded vigorously. I actually blushed like it was a compliment. WTF?
But, I kept a watchful eye on Jason, slumped against Chris’s legs. Had I heard right- Demon Touched- come on! We would be discussing this again later.
Chris had bags hanging from him and his pry bar out. I felt for my gun, it was gone. Damn, I must’ve lost it inside.
And there it was, held out to me by Jeff. He never took his eyes off the Trench Coats. Jeff had a tattoo on the back of his head. It was a cross with a stylized fish around it with wings; it said Eternal Warrior under it. He had another one across the back of his right hand, it seemed to say Doulos, but it was difficult to read.
A stunned numbness was creeping over me. The events of the last 24 hours were just too unbelievable. I knew at some point in the future the magnitude of the trouble we were in would sink in- and I would surely fall apart. But for now, thankfully, I just couldn't summon the emotions to begin blubbering and ranting.
I could hear sirens in the distance. Finally!
The Trench Coats seemed to take that as a cue. They began to swarm towards us. The malicious intent rolled off of them in terrifying waves.
“Stay in the circle, avoid eye contact and no matter what they say- do not leave the circle until I say to. Are we clear?” Jeff asked.
“Clear.” Chris & I both answered together. Things had gotten so strange it was no longer difficult to suspend the disbelief. In fact, to make it easier on myself, I switched my gaze to Jason and did my best to ignore the oncoming mob.
I knew when they had reached the perimeter of the chalk circle because I could feel it. It felt like a sudden strong gust of wind when you have all of your windows up in a moving vehicle. It had a buffeting effect on us, and we all sort of staggered.
In spite of my resolve, I looked up. The Trench Coats all had glowing gold eyes and a perpetual snarl plastered on their features. Some of them were pleading for help in very human voices; some were obviously threatening us in an inhuman harsh language. They seemed to hit an invisible barrier and then slide off to the side. They kept going down the empty road away from us.
I was beginning to shake when Jeff made a snapping motion with his hands. He reached down and threw Jason over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.
“Now. Follow me, be quiet.” Was all Jeff said. He headed for a dark line of shadows on the other side of the street. Just as we gathered ourselves to cross at the next corner, stepping into a pool of light, a fire truck rounded the corner behind us.
Jeff crouched down, watching the roads as if waiting for another vehicle. We saw another truck go flying through the intersection one block up, behind the Waalford. Jeff stood up, re shouldering Jason and rapidly crossed the road heading for more shadows.
We were another ½ block away when the 2nd truck pulled in behind the first. Jeff moved like a machine while Chris and I struggled to keep up. All the while, we looked over our shoulders, expecting an ambush of Trench Coats at any moment.
Suddenly, Jeff stepped into a blocked off alleyway. He put Jason on the ground, propped against the building and frantically pulled out his chalk. He began kicking and sweeping debris from the ground.
“I don’t think we are going to make it this time. You have to keep them off me until I get the circle up.” He said in a quiet voice, not looking at us. He knelt down and began to draw.
“Tattoo’s can be a window into someone’s soul or a shield against those who can’t see past the surface”-Tattoist saying
We pulled up in front of a gigantic red brick edifice. The understated sign above the old style doors said The Waalford. Clearly this was a very old hotel that had seen much better days. The term ‘Grand’ was probably used a lot in its heyday. As we circled the block, a large bald man watched us closely.
The minivan contained- I kid you not- George and Irene and their children George Jr and Ashley. Family unit type 1-A. They maneuvered into a parking garage about two blocks away from the Waalford. The lot was expensive, but manned. There were at least a dozen other functional looking vehicles parked in it so it was a pretty safe bet.
As we approached the Waalford we instinctively decided it would be best to walk on the opposite side of the street from the big bald guy. He was busily drawing something in chalk on the sidewalk and muttering to himself. He looked up from time to time as if on the verge of saying something.
When we got to the doors I was struck by the massive size of this building. Why on Earth would Danville ever need a hotel of this magnitude? Could it ever have been that prosperous?
As we filtered in the bald man hollered after us something to the effect of “don’t do it, you don’t want to do that”. I was glad when the doors shut.
That is, until I got a good look around. Talk about shabby! This place still had the same marble flooring and flocked velvet wallpaper it had started out with! Only now the floor was discolored, cracked and patched with quikcrete and the wallpaper had burn holes and was peeling from water damage. In some areas it looked like it had a mold or fungus. It had a large, non functional chandelier in the foyer.
There did appear to be an ample supply of lamps and some furniture that I wouldn’t be sitting on. George Jr & Ashley ran over and flopped on the greasy burgundy couch. I cringed.
An efficient looking woman appeared behind the desk and motioned us over. She took our ID’s and copied them and then informed us about the RULES! We could indeed rent rooms for the night. However, because this hotel catered to the elderly poor, our key cards would not give us access to anything above the 3rd floor. We were expected to be quiet and respectful of the other residents and guests at all times. We were also expected to be back in our rooms by mid night. The front desk would shut down and there would be no one to buzz us up after midnight. There would be NO REFUNDS if we got locked out of our rooms because we were late getting back! Any problems?
Well, what choice did we have at this point? There were other hotels closer to the Interstate, but I imagined that they were booked by the block when bombings occurred. Luckily, this hotel was cheap! So we forked over the cash and headed up.
The rooms echoed the tired décor of the rest of the hotel. But the beds appeared clean, with gold colored bedspreads. The kind with tassels on the corners. The bathrooms were a different story, covered with mineral deposits on the fixtures and rust stains. That’s what they made flip flops for isn’t it?
George and Irene were actually 1 floor above us because they needed a larger suite with the kids. To be honest, I was relieved. Sometimes traveling in too big of a group just made you slow. Dropping off some of our snacks later was going to be the extent of my responsibility for them.
Our 2nd floor windows were fairly utilitarian, but I didn’t feel cheated because a view of downtown Danville was hardly an inspiring sight. I pulled the blinds tighter and flopped down on my bed.
“We should probably just keep our heads down here. We can find out when the roads will open up again tomorrow. What do you want to do about supper?” Jason asked, looking at me, of course.
I cracked my right eye at him. Chris had joined in the expectant staring so I sighed as I sat back up.
“Well, I suppose we should go find a café or restaurant. We don’t want to use our supplies when we have others available.” I said. “Lets ask at the front desk.”
Chris picked up the phone experimentally. It was of an older style that only called in-house. It rang through to the front desk.
After some conversation that seemed to involve a lot of cutting Chris off, he determined that we were a short walk from an old diner. We packed everything that we couldn’t live without on us and took off.
*************
“Watch that bald guy there.” Chris muttered under his breath as we walked out the door. He had his hand on my elbow and was steadily tugging me behind him so I couldn’t have watched anything but his backside. Ok, I exaggerate.
Jason took up a flanking position next to me. I was pretty effectively boxed in unless I just stopped walking and let my bodyguards keep going. Block the chick with the gun, smaaart…
What I could see, when I stopped my sarcastic conversation with myself, was the bald guy standing on the corner we were walking towards. He was facing the corner across the street where a group of four young men were standing. Trench coats hung like uniforms on all of them, isn’t that odd…
The bald guy knelt down on one knee, facing away from us. The group on the corner appeared to get agitated, looking nervously from Baldy to us approaching. We slowed our walk. I reached into my jacket pocket; hand on the nine.
“Chris, we are going to walk right through this.” Jason intoned quietly. “Stay close to the building and try not to make eye contact.”
Which is exactly what we did. Baldy stayed on one knee, not even sparing a glance at us. The group on the corner went eerily still, following us with their collective gaze. It was altogether unsettling, like something from a Star Trek episode. Other than the trench coats, I couldn’t see any easily discernible connection between Baldy and the Foursome.
Once we had crossed the next street and turned towards the purported location of the diner we all let out a heavy breath.
“You saw that right? I mean, the oddity and all?” Chris blurted.
“Is that bald guy in trouble? Should we stay close enough to help or look menacing or something?” I asked Jason.
“I don’t think We want any part of what is going on with Them.” Jason chuckled out. We equaling puny humans, Them equaling too weird for puny humans. He kept moving forward and we followed, looking over our shoulders periodically.
************
The diner was exactly as imagined. No frills, expensive and slow. Venison stew was the main dish to be had although the pigeon was cheaper. None of us were going for cheap. We shared a pot of coffee with actual cream and sugar for dessert. All in all it was a decent meal. The staff acted like they hadn’t seen a woman in twenty years and it was nice for my ego. I found myself brushing my hair out of my face and tucking it behind my ears in the mirrored wall as we left the diner an hour later. I didn’t look half bad today, hmm.
I was feeling fairly fuzzy and warm as we ambled back towards our hotel. I actually reached for Chris and Jason’s hands as we walked. They looked at each other over my head, smirking. But they humored me. I got to enjoy it for all of a minute and a half.
We all seemed to realize at once that there were quite a few people in trench coats around us. And the people in trench coats had noticed us. We quickened our pace.
It was becoming habit for Chris to take the lead and Jason to stay on the outside of me. Jason again murmured our instructions to stay close to buildings and keep eye contact to a minimum.
I heard running steps behind us, but they sounded like they stopped at the corner we had just crossed from. As if we were being tailed, but not under direct attack.
I imagined this must have been what it was like to be near a race riot and be the wrong race. It was terrifying. My heart pounded and my breathing sounded too loud to me. Along with a silent prayer to please just let us make it to the next corner, I replayed in my mind over and over what I would do if we were set upon. Who would I shoot first, would the guys allow me to bring up the rear as they guided us to the hotel?
The prayer turned into please just let us make this turn onto our street. Still no overt aggression, just the sense of gathering trench coats.
As we turned onto the Waalford’s street we could see Baldy still manning his chalk drawings. He looked right at us, as if expecting us. We tensed and slowed. He seemed to be studying us, weighing us against the other trench coats. He seemed to come to some sort of conclusion and he beckoned us forward. The Foursome from earlier took exception to this and looked like they might intervene. They started across the road towards us on an intercept course. I brought my gun out and stepped up level with Chris. Jason let out a sharp breath and colorful adjective.
Chris allowed me to lead and Jason moved up next to me. I could hear Chris change direction and walk backwards behind us, one hand on the belt of my jacket so he could feel when we slowed or stopped.
Curiously, all of the worry and fear seemed to drain out. Everything took on a sense of clarity around me and slowed. I glanced at Baldy and gave him a ½ nod, effectively conveying to him that we were NOT in need of his assistance and he should remain where he was. Which telegraphed over to the approaching Foursome, just stepping off the curb. I snapped my gaze over to the guy I knew in my gut was leading this ill-conceived group of thuglings and sighted my gun directly in on his chest. Then, to my surprise, I called out:
“You’re first, Jackass!” in a clear, calm but forceful voice that I didn’t recognize. Apparently, neither did Jason or Chris because they both gave a start. I didn’t care; I was too busy calculating when I would have to start shooting in order to get them all before they got to us.
And then, would I have enough bullets left to cover us for the run to the doors of the Waalford…
The surprises just kept rolling in! The leader of the Foursome stopped dead in his tracks. He looked at us quizzically, almost in disbelief. Then they all backtracked to their corner again.
We kept moving at faster clip now towards Baldy. Keeping my eye on the Foursome and the handful of other trench coats we could see up & down the road now, we stopped on Baldy’s corner, standing on his chalk drawing.
“You’d better come with us. I don’t think you are going to be safe out here anymore.” I said, again in that calm voice. Where was that coming from?
“No. You had better leave this area now. Nobody is safe here.” He argued. Not successfully.
“Come on mate! We don’t ‘ave time to argue. Juust come into da ‘otel an we can talk there.” Chris put in, helpfully. “You don’t ‘ave to stay all night, just until whot ever’s ‘appening out here is duune.”
Chris’s accent was in full cockney swing. It’s a wonder Baldy understood him.
“You don’t understand, look, I’m telling you. You don’t want to stay in that hotel. You’re not going to be any safer in there than you are out here. The best thing is for all of you to get out of this area right now.” Baldy intoned emphatically.
The Foursome watched our exchange with interest. It was unnerving and I was ready to move. The Trench Coats seemed to be just waiting for us to follow Baldy’s advice, maybe so they could pick us off.
“We are going to go into the Waalford now.” Jason said quietly. “You may join us if you wish, but we will not be coming back out to check on you once we get safely inside.”
With that, Jason took a few steps towards the door, one hand lightly on my shoulder as I turned to keep my gun on the Foursome. Chris again was walking backwards. Jason swore softly to himself when we reached the door, panic spiked icily up my spine.
“It’s locked. Chris, look for a buzzer, but don’t let on that anything is wrong.” Jason murmured under his breath.
Chris looked for a moment and found a call button. He pressed it and we waited. It was only a matter of time before the trench coat brigade figured out that we were locked out. I wished Baldy would just join us; I didn’t like to think what might happen to him out here by himself.
A scratchy voice cut loudly across the tension, making us jump. “Registration name please.” A pause, then louder still, “Name of the registered resident please.”
Jason called out, “Millson, 3 overnight guests. Room 208.”
There was a buzz and a click as the door lock opened. Jason shouldered it open and ushered us inside, pushing my gun down and into my pocket as I passed him.
We looked around the lobby to report what was going on outside. But the lobby was empty. We waited a minute for the voice on the intercom to come back, but she didn’t. Jason stepped over to the front desk and rang the service bell.
A different buzzing sounded and a door at the end of the desk opened. The same dour woman came through, looking frazzled.
“Oh, I must’ve forgotten to tell you about the front door. When the nut jobs outside start up like that we lock it. Only residents and people they put on the list for the day can come in. You should probably stay in for the night.” She blustered, half turning to leave again, “Will there be anything else?”
“Uh, no. Thanks.” We muttered. She was gone before we finished.
We just stood there, a little stunned for a second. Jason turned and headed for the stairs and we followed. I was suddenly too exhausted to talk.
When we got back in our room we checked our booby traps and hairs to make sure nothing was disturbed. Everything appeared okay. We took a moment to congratulate ourselves on getting through yet another harrowing experience, the guys revealing a newfound respect for me. I shrugged the compliment off, mostly because I couldn’t be sure how backhanded it was. The guys were funny about things like that. Maybe they were really as surprised as I was at my behavior with the gun, or maybe they were saying that they didn’t think I had it in me to take care of myself.
Or, maybe I was just too tired to be thinking that hard about a compliment. I flopped back down on my bed, kicking off my shoes unsuccessfully. Chris flopped down on the other bed, and I swear began snoring before his head hit the pillow.
Jason turned the TV on low, finding one station. It was local and had some coverage of the interstate bombing earlier. He sat down at the foot of my bed and took my shoes off. While watching the TV, he lightly rubbed my feet until I slipped off sleep.
************
I woke up sweltering. The blanket I was laying on had been flipped over me, and Jason was lying on the bed next to me, one arm thrown over my waist. I slowly moved his arm off, and pushed the blanket over onto Jason. I got up and headed for the bathroom. I passed Chris, sprawled diagonally across his bed. His arms and legs flung out all crazy. Mercifully, he had stopped snoring.
It had to be close to mid-night. The light filtering from behind the blinds had changed and my internal clock told me I had only been out for about five hours.
I splashed some water on my face and brushed my teeth, examining myself in the mirror. My brown hair had gotten ridiculously long. It was shot through with shiny silver hairs that I started getting when I was fifteen. It made me look older and tired. Maybe I could get some Henna when we went through Champaign. Shiny reddish hairs had to be better than this.
I used to be pretty. Right after high school. I never had to make plans for the weekend because there was always someone planning to take me out. At one point, every surface in my bedroom was covered with floral bouquets because a quiet competition had started amongst my regular dates.
Pretty takes time and effort, though. And sometimes lots of product. I know, men always say they like natural beauty. But let me tell you, that Natural Look doesn’t come naturally! Natural women have extra hairs in inopportune places; they have skin discolorations, freckles and wrinkles. Their hair is wild and crazy without being tamed down with massive applications of heat and styling products. Without regular visits to the gym, some women even have pockets of fat!
True Natural Beauty is an acquired taste. And sometimes smell.
These days I don’t refer to myself as pretty so much as clean and fit. That’s as good as I think I can get at the moment, and frankly, it’s a lot less time consuming.
As I stepped out of the bathroom to rummage for my flip-flops, I caught a whiff of a strong noxious smell. Now, this is not an uncommon occurrence when with Jason and Chris. However, this smell was acrid in a poisonous way and was stronger near the door. It was like the sulfur smell from the well in Veedersburg, but much much stronger.
I cracked the door, caught sight of a yellowish cloud in the hall and closed it quickly.
“Guys, get up now!” I snapped out. “Get our stuff together and get ready to go out the window.”
“What… what are you….?” They both mumbled sleepily at me.
“Listen. To. Me.” I intoned clearly and slowly for them. “I think we are under a chemical attack, there is a cloud of gas in the hallway. I don’t think we can stay here.”
Jason sat upright, flinging the blanket off him. He padded over to the door, looking out the keyhole and wrinkling his nose.
“She’s right. We gotta go.” He stepped into the bathroom and began running water.
I was so glad that the expert had weighed in. Now, surely, we could leave.
But no, we couldn’t take action until my thought had been double confirmed by the other expert…
Chris walked right past the bathroom and opened the damned door. I was so appalled all I could do was reach forward and slam it shut again. Chris just turned and looked blankly at me.
“Uh, right. Lets go.”
“Don’t do that again,” Jason said calmly as he laid a wet towel across the bottom of the door. He handed us damp washrags and he kept a damp hand towel for himself. “Breathe through these if we hit any more gas clouds.”
He went over to the window trying to figure out how to unlatch it. Chris walked over and tried to help. It appeared to be stuck. On closer inspection, it looked as though the track the window was supposed to slide in had a coating of super glue over it.
As I threw our loose belongings into my duffel bag, Chris grabbed a chair and took a swing at the window. It bowed out, but didn’t break.
He tried again. It didn’t break. Jason tried it, with no luck as well. We all looked at each other, remembering what Baldy had said earlier.
“If we hold our breath maybe we can get down the hall.” I suggested.
“I think that is our best bet at this point. I don’t want to wait for whatever is next here. I’ll run down the hall first and make sure it’s clear for you guys. Then we’ll all go together.” Jason took some deep breaths, and then covered his mouth with his towel.
We flung the door open and then closed it. Chris watched out the peephole, I had my ear to the door listening to the thump thumping of Jason’s footsteps. They stopped abruptly.
“What’s hap-“ “Shhh, I can’t hear-”
A strangled sound came from the corridor. I looked up and Chris’s eyes were big as saucers.
“Come on. We’re leaving now!” I shouldered my bag; Chris grabbed his and Jason’s. I had my gun out when we opened the door.
The cloud seemed to have dissipated somewhat. I could see Jason leaning against the wall ahead of us, oddly still.
“Jason!” I called out loudly. My ears started to ring suddenly and I felt like all my energy got exhaled out when I called his name.
Jason, Jason, Jason came a strange echoing back to me as Jason slumped down the wall.
He was gasping for air when we got to him and pulling himself back up to his feet. He looked bewildered, I am sure mirroring my expression.
“What happened?” I started to ask.
“Lets move!” Chris said, heading for the door to the stairwell.
The door was locked. A sick feeling began in the pit of my stomach. This had all of the earmarks of a terrorist act we had read about in the papers a few months ago.
I noticed strange writing all over the walls around us, I didn't remember seeing it earlier. It wasn’t any language I was familiar with, but it had an Asian feel to it. As I watched, the writing seemed to writhe and change. I jumped backed, knocking into Chris who had also noticed it.
Feeling creeped out, we started pressing the buzzer repeatedly. Jason seemed to be dragging, not quite with it. Had we inhaled some sort of hallucinogenic?
A sharp scratchy voice came over the intercom. “Please return to your room. We are experiencing technical difficulties. You will receive a call when everything is cleared up.” It almost sounded recorded.
“Wait, we need help up here. We need you to unlock this door and evacuate the building.” Chris responded, pressing the buzzer again.
“Please return to you room sir.” was the answer.
“There is a cloud of gas up here. We are being poisoned. Open this door now.” I said loudly, banging on the door.
“We are aware of the situation Miss. Please return to your room.” was the reply. The sick feeling cranked up a notch.
“We should return to our rooms.” Jason said weakly behind us.
Chris and I both gaped at him for a moment, before looking at each other.
Chris pulled out his short pry bar and went to work on the door. I took aim at the buzzer box and fired. The lock actually clicked back and forth a few times, and Chris managed to catch it on the open cycle. He yanked the door open, and I pulled a lethargic Jason through it.
We fairly tumbled down the stairs. I spared a thought for people on the upper floors, but decided that the best way for me to help them would be to survive long enough to get help from outside.
I fired again at the 1st floor buzzer box. It didn’t work out as neatly as the one upstairs did, and the shot was deafening in the stairwell. I hoped other residents heard it and were alarmed. Again Chris went to work with his pry bar. It took a lot of effort and swearing, but eventually enough force was applied to the latch area to work everything but the bolt loose. His bar bit into the metal around it enough to give it some wiggle room.
Over the sounds of wrenching metal I could begin to hear hysterical screams coming from above us. Sweat poured down Chris’s brow. Jason just seemed dazed, like he had been hit over the head. I looked him over quickly, but I couldn’t see any bleeding.
Finally the door popped open. We went through and were greeted by the grisly sight of the dour front desk lady laid on the floor in a pool of blood. She was naked, with the strange writing carved into her doughy flesh. Her wrists had been cut and she had bled out. She was laid out in the form of a crucifixion inside an intricately drawn circle on the floor.
We cautiously looked around before heading towards the front door. There were about five other circles on the ground and the lingering sulfur smell from upstairs. There was no shortage of creepy writing on the walls around us. Jason just got more and more sluggish, and I was tugging on him by the time we got to the door.
Locked again! Chris leaped behind the front desk to look for the button to open it. Then he headed for the door at the end. It was locked as well.
He came back and took a swing at the front door with his pry bar. It bounced back ineffectually a few times. Then he grabbed a chair, let out a yell and swung. Again it bowed out, but didn’t break.
But this time I noticed a flare of writing illuminated on the glass, similar to what was written on the walls.
“Do it again Chris, but watch the glass this time.” I said.
He did and sure enough the writing fluoresced again. I brought my gun up, and was about to shoot when Baldy appeared outside the door. He was bleeding from a cut over his brow, and something viscous was dripping from his hands. He dropped to the ground when he saw my gun.
He raised his hands up as if to say don’t shoot, and then he indicated we should back up from the door a bit.
He had his chunk of chalk in hand and began to write something we couldn’t see on the door. We moved in closer to see what he was doing, but he frantically motioned us back.
Without realizing it, Chris and I both held our breath. Jason was slumped against me and beginning to mutter.
Suddenly, Jason stiffened and turned to face the far corner of the room, towards a circle on the floor in front of the front desk. The sulfur smell was growing stronger and a cloud was forming within the circle.
Panicked, I looked over my shoulder at Baldy. He was writing furiously in chalk that wasn’t showing up on the glass. I was having racing thoughts about all of the horror movies and books I’d ever read. I just couldn’t latch onto to anything pertaining to this.
I decided to crouch down, close to the door. I pulled Chris down with me and tried to get Jason to do the same. Jason was locked in place though, completely ignoring me. His eyes were glazed over and he was facing the troublesome circle in the back.
A very tall humanoid shape was forming in the sulfury cloud. I say humanoid because humans don’t get that tall, and something was wrong about it. I couldn’t put my finger on it…
As it coalesced before my eyes I realized it was staring at us. Specifically at Jason. I don’t know how to describe it; it was beautiful in a terrible dark way. It was black and leathery and shiny, with claws on its hands and horns on its head. Its eyes had a golden predatory glow to them.
It flicked its gaze at me and I felt it like a kick to the gut, the air whooshing out of me. It swung its gaze onto Jason, its pupils dilating to block out the golden glow.
“Jason.” It hissed. Its voice hurt my ears.
Jason dropped his hand to my shoulder, gripping it painfully.
“Bhaathim.” Jason said in a harsh unnatural tone.
Chris stood up and took a step back from Jason. I tried to do the same, but was held firmly in place.
“Jason, let me up.” I whimpered at him.
The thing in the circle took a step out and towards us. Fixing me with its terrifying gaze. I began to struggle.
“She will belong to me now.” It said, in inhuman tones. Reaching between its legs to fondle a previously invisible organ.
Ohhh no, that’s not an option. My brain was rapid fire informing me of the obvious.
Then I was flying through the air, towards the creature. My shoulder was on fire where Jason had been gripping it. I had time to realize that the landing was going to hurt before I crumpled like a pop can in a heap on the floor.
The creature reached an impossibly long claw down and yanked me up by my jacket, nose to nose with it. I felt a tug on my consciousness. It felt curiously like getting pulled under water by your feet at a swimming pool. Then I felt something dark and sticky wrap itself around my mind. It began to squeeze in a painful way and black spots formed in front of my eyes, a hissing static was all I could hear.
I don’t know how long it actually lasted, but just when I felt like something inside was going to break- a piercing shrieking noise cut through my head. Matched by a piercing shriek of my own.
I was again flying across the room, in the general direction I had come from. I must have landed on Chris because we were both in a heap on the floor. Chris got to his feet, shoving me out the now miraculously open door.
The cooler air outside smacked into me, snapping me out of my momentary daze. I looked around and saw that Baldy, Chris and Jason were with me in a chalk circle on the sidewalk just outside the door. Across the street, trench coated people silently watched us, periodically looking up at the upper floors of the Waalford.
I followed their gaze and saw to my growing horror that flames and smoke were spouting from open windows. I took a step away from the building to get some distance and was promptly yanked back by Baldy.
“Don’t step outside the circle. We will make a run for it when Emergency Services show up.” Baldy said in a not unkind voice. He saw my intent to argue, “Look Lady! You may ride all over these guys- but you ain’t drivin’ me. Just stay in the circle, we’ll get out of here just as soon as we catch a break.”
I was shocked and aghast! I couldn’t even think snarky thoughts. So a meek ‘OK’ was what Baldy got.
A closer inspection showed me that Jason was out cold. I looked over at Baldy accusingly, but he was otherwise occupied watching the Trench Coats across the street.
“Jason attacked me when Jeff over here got the door open.” Chris murmured in my ear, gesturing towards Baldy. “Jeff had to knock him out. I don’t know how he did it, but he’s a lot stronger than he looks. Something is seriously wrong with Jason; he tossed you like a beanbag across the room. I think I would have been in trouble if Jeff hadn't helped us all out the door.”
I rubbed my sore shoulder, wincing, remembering.
“Lets just hope he doesn’t come to anytime soon.” I said.
“You got that right.” Baldy, I mean Jeff said vehemently. “ I can’t keep this circle up and keep a Demon Touched under control. Here, you better take this. I can trust you to use it on him can’t I?”
He handed me a stun baton. Wow. I’ve never actually used one before; I wonder how bad it hurts…
“Hey! Missy. Eyes on the Demon Touched.” Jeff barked at me, and winked. Yes, I said winked.
“She’s got a mean streak doesn’t she?” he asked Chris, who nodded vigorously. I actually blushed like it was a compliment. WTF?
But, I kept a watchful eye on Jason, slumped against Chris’s legs. Had I heard right- Demon Touched- come on! We would be discussing this again later.
Chris had bags hanging from him and his pry bar out. I felt for my gun, it was gone. Damn, I must’ve lost it inside.
And there it was, held out to me by Jeff. He never took his eyes off the Trench Coats. Jeff had a tattoo on the back of his head. It was a cross with a stylized fish around it with wings; it said Eternal Warrior under it. He had another one across the back of his right hand, it seemed to say Doulos, but it was difficult to read.
A stunned numbness was creeping over me. The events of the last 24 hours were just too unbelievable. I knew at some point in the future the magnitude of the trouble we were in would sink in- and I would surely fall apart. But for now, thankfully, I just couldn't summon the emotions to begin blubbering and ranting.
I could hear sirens in the distance. Finally!
The Trench Coats seemed to take that as a cue. They began to swarm towards us. The malicious intent rolled off of them in terrifying waves.
“Stay in the circle, avoid eye contact and no matter what they say- do not leave the circle until I say to. Are we clear?” Jeff asked.
“Clear.” Chris & I both answered together. Things had gotten so strange it was no longer difficult to suspend the disbelief. In fact, to make it easier on myself, I switched my gaze to Jason and did my best to ignore the oncoming mob.
I knew when they had reached the perimeter of the chalk circle because I could feel it. It felt like a sudden strong gust of wind when you have all of your windows up in a moving vehicle. It had a buffeting effect on us, and we all sort of staggered.
In spite of my resolve, I looked up. The Trench Coats all had glowing gold eyes and a perpetual snarl plastered on their features. Some of them were pleading for help in very human voices; some were obviously threatening us in an inhuman harsh language. They seemed to hit an invisible barrier and then slide off to the side. They kept going down the empty road away from us.
I was beginning to shake when Jeff made a snapping motion with his hands. He reached down and threw Jason over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.
“Now. Follow me, be quiet.” Was all Jeff said. He headed for a dark line of shadows on the other side of the street. Just as we gathered ourselves to cross at the next corner, stepping into a pool of light, a fire truck rounded the corner behind us.
Jeff crouched down, watching the roads as if waiting for another vehicle. We saw another truck go flying through the intersection one block up, behind the Waalford. Jeff stood up, re shouldering Jason and rapidly crossed the road heading for more shadows.
We were another ½ block away when the 2nd truck pulled in behind the first. Jeff moved like a machine while Chris and I struggled to keep up. All the while, we looked over our shoulders, expecting an ambush of Trench Coats at any moment.
Suddenly, Jeff stepped into a blocked off alleyway. He put Jason on the ground, propped against the building and frantically pulled out his chalk. He began kicking and sweeping debris from the ground.
“I don’t think we are going to make it this time. You have to keep them off me until I get the circle up.” He said in a quiet voice, not looking at us. He knelt down and began to draw.
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