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.