Hellrider

by JG Faherty

  “Changed my mind,” Eddie said, sitting up and giving her his best smile. “I decided there was a better way to spend my night.”

  She gave him a curious look. “Better how? Don’t you have to be there for the Science Club meeting?”

  “Let’s just say being surrounded by all that death made me realize we have to enjoy life while we have the chance.” He got off the bed and walked toward her. Although she didn’t back away, something in her posture changed, letting him know that she’d never experienced her husband acting in such a forceful manner.

  Of course not. He’s a pussy.

  “Todd, what are you—?”

  He stopped her words by grabbing her, pulling her close, and smashing his lips against her mouth in a violent kiss. She tried to pull away but he pushed her against the bedroom wall hard enough to rattle the perfume bottles on her dresser. Pinning her tight with one hand against her shoulder, Eddie slid his other hand down to her chest, gripping a breast as he shoved his tongue into her mouth.

  He’d figured she’d quickly change from surprised and frightened to hot and horny. After all, it was her husband, at least in her mind. And it had probably been a long time since she had it good and rough, especially being married to Goody-Goody Gunderson.

  Eddie increased the pressure of his fingers on her breast, was rewarded with a moan against his tongue.

  That’s more like it. Now she’s—

  His whole body exploded with pain as Jenny rammed her knee into his balls. He released her and stumbled back until he hit the bed, then he collapsed to the floor, groaning and retching while his hands gingerly cupped his balls.

  “What the hell is the matter with you? Why would you do something like that?” Tears ran down Jenny’s face as she shouted at him.

  “Fucking goddamn sonofabitch!” Eddie pushed himself to his feet, doing his best to ignore the stomach-wrenching ache between his legs. “You fuckin’ bitch. Is that how you treat your husband? Maybe you need to learn some manners.”

  He raised his fists and took a step forward, but before he could reach her, Jenny turned and ran out of the room. Eddie followed as fast as he could, each step sending darts of pain through his balls and into his stomach. He wondered if he’d even be able to get it up when he caught her, decided it didn’t matter. It would be just as much fun to slap her around and then let Gunderson suffer the consequences.

  He rounded the corner into the kitchen and found himself facing what looked like a wooden hammer covered in pyramid-shaped points.

  “One more step and I’ll pound you like last night’s chicken.” Jenny stood on the other side of the counter that divided the kitchen and dining room, her angry tone all the more menacing for the weapon she wielded. Not that Eddie cared.

  “Give it your best shot,” he told her, taking one step and then another. “Ain’t gonna stop me from fucking the shit out of you tonight.”

  He braced his hands against the counter as she raised her arm, prepared to duck one way or the other when she swung the hammer at his face.

  She slammed the mallet straight down onto his left hand, crushing flesh and bone between the wooden points and the counter top. Eddie screamed as fire raced up his arm. He jerked his hand away, the top already red and swollen. Beads of blood sat inside the triangular depressions the mallet had left in his skin.

  “Goddammit!” He dove across the counter and grabbed her shirt with both hands. Jenny swung the mallet again but her balance was off and the edge of it only struck a glancing blow against his arm. Before she could rear back for another swing, he yanked it out of her hand and tossed it across the kitchen. Jenny cried out for help and he silenced her with a fist to the mouth, a solid blow that rocked her head back and left her so dazed she crumpled to the floor when he let go of her.

  Eddie rounded the counter and paused, considering his options. What to do, what to do? Drag her into the living room or just give her the old sausage right on the kitchen floor?

  Fuck it. Why waste time? He unzipped his pants, paused when her cell phone rang.

  I doubt it’s for me. He laughed at his joke, causing the lights to flicker, and finished stripping his pants off. Then he knelt down next to Jenny, eager to get a look at the tits he’d admired for so many years from across the counter at Rosie’s. She moaned but didn’t wake up as he tore her uniform blouse open, exposing a heavy white bra that annoyed him. He’d expected something more feminine. Lace, with little slits for the nips to poke through. Not a grandma bra. It didn’t matter, though. He thumbed the clasp open and pulled the two halves away, getting his first good look at the breasts he’d fantasized about since he’d been Carson’s age.

  One of them had a three-inch square piece of medical gauze taped to it.

  Frowning, he carefully peeled the tape up and folded the bandage back, revealing a freshly stitched, semi-circular wound with some black, crusty blood scabbed around the sutures. More dried blood stained the inside of the gauze.

  What the hell?

  Eddie leaned back, his erection shrinking as he stared at the bruised flesh surrounding the stitches. She might have just had a mole removed, but remembering her reaction when he’d made his first move on her, he didn’t think so.

  Breast cancer? Jenny Gunderson? It didn’t seem possible. She was too young. But the more he thought about it, the more sense it made. A biopsy. That explained why she’d been so cold when he’d made his first move on her. Why else would a wife turn down her husband?

  Now she thinks Gunderson is a Grade-A asshole, the kind of limp-dick who’d force himself on a woman going through a cancer scare.

  Eddie’s guilt vanished, replaced by manic glee. The whole situation kept getting better. Not that Jenny deserved cancer, but she’d sure as hell be kicking Gunderson out to the curb when she woke up.

  All thoughts of raping Jenny disappeared, a new plan taking shape in his head. A plan that would have Gunderson’s good name smeared across the front page of the newspaper all week, and him left suffering from the humiliation of it.

  Pants still bunched around his ankles, Eddie shuffled into the kitchen and dialed 911.

  “Something’s wrong at the Gunderson house,” he shouted, then hung up. He went into the living room and turned on the stereo as loud as it would go. When the phone rang, he hit the green button and cried out.

  “Help! Help!”

  Eddie dropped the phone, the voice on the other end lost in the music. While he waited for the cops to arrive, he grabbed a beer from the refrigerator and made a ham and cheese sandwich. He was enjoying some of Jenny’s delicious homemade cookies when the first red and blue lights lit up the windows.

  Time to rock out with my cock out.

  Eddie threw open the door, still naked from the waist down.

  “Howdy, Chief!” he called out, waving a cookie in the air. “C’mon in and have a beer!”

  “Put your hands up and step outside.” Jones’s amplified voice echoed off the nearby houses, drawing neighbors onto porches like moths to a bug zapper.

  Eddie gave Jones a big smile and raised his hands. He was preparing to walk down the steps when invisible claws dug deep into his essence and tore him from Gunderson’s body as painfully as if he’d been gutted alive.

  His screams followed him as he flew across town.

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Carson and Kellie had wasted no time getting to work on their séance. With no idea of how long Eddie would be distracted, they knew they needed to hurry if they wanted their one chance to stop him from succeeding.

  On the ground next to each of them was a bottle of holy water and a baggie of sea salt. Carson placed five lit candles, each with a drop of Kellie’s blood on them, in a rough circle around their blanket and then used the salt to draw a circle around the blanket. At the same time, Kellie took the final object, a plastic doll, from their bag of supplies. It
was a cheap GI Joe knockoff Carson had found in the back of his closet. After deciding that Eddie needed to be dealt with in a decisive manner, they’d reviewed the different tactics detailed in Kellie’s research and chosen a spell to bind his spirit inside an inanimate object as the safest – and most permanent – solution.

  While Carson finished the preparations and sat down, Kellie unfolded a piece of paper and chanted the words written on it.

  “Eddie Ryder, we command your spirit to hear us.

  Eddie Ryder, heed our call.

  Eddie Ryder, we command your spirit to appear to us.

  Eddie Ryder, show yourself.”

  While she repeated the spell, Carson joined in, at the same time sprinkling holy water over each of the candles. After four repetitions he began to feel more than a little foolish. Nothing was happening, which is what he should have expected. After all, if conducting a séance was something anyone could do, there’d be people all over the world trapping ghosts and demons and—

  With a sound like a balloon exploding, a semi-transparent image of Eddie’s face appeared over their heads.

  Carson let out a shout and dropped the bottle as more of Eddie’s body took shape.

  “Use the salt!” Kellie screamed, grabbing a handful and tossing it at the candles.

  Eddie’s face grew more distinct and his mouth opened. No sounds came out, but Carson knew his brother well enough to recognize he was angry.

  Very angry.

  Carson picked up his own baggie, never taking his eyes off his brother’s ghostly form, and sprinkled it over the candles on his side of the blanket. When they were done, Kellie handed him the plastic doll and started reading from a new sheet of paper.

  “Eddie Ryder, we bind you with salt and flame. You cannot harm us. You cannot disobey us. You are ours to command. Speak now, and tell us why you haunt this plane.”

  There was another loud pop! and suddenly Eddie had a voice.

  “—fuckers! I’ll make you pay for this! Let me the fuck go!”

  Carson’s stomach twisted. Eddie’s voice was as real as if he were alive, so real you could almost forget the way his body disappeared just below the waist, or how the rest of him faded to wispy smoke around the edges. Unexpected tears burst free as Carson’s sorrow and grief pushed past his recent hatred of his brother.

  “Eddie!” he cried out, reaching up with his free hand.

  “No!” Kellie tried to slap his hand away, but it was too late. Eddie’s insubstantial fingers touched Carson’s, igniting a fireworks of bright white sparks inside the circle.

  Carson shouted in pain and fell onto his back. Eddie’s mocking laughter filled the night air.

  “You stupid fuck! This ain’t no movie, little brother. Let me the fuck out of here or I swear I’ll make sure your little whore gets ass-raped by the whole football team the next time I take her out for a spin.”

  Carson’s momentary grief shattered at Eddie’s words, and he cursed himself for being so stupid. Even though his fingers felt like they were on fire, he grabbed the doll with both hands and held it up. “Fuck you, Eddie. Say hello to your new home. Now, Kellie!”

  Although Carson had skipped several steps in their plan, Kellie was ready. “Eddie Ryder, we bind your soul. Eddie Ryder, we bind your thoughts. Eddie Ryder, we bind your heart.”

  Each time she spoke his name, she cast a handful of salt at his image. Although the salt passed right through him, something in it affected him and he cried out in pain, his features twisting and mutating like a wax figurine on a hot sidewalk.

  After Kellie tossed the final handful, Carson thrust the doll forward into Eddie’s swirling body. For one brief second, Eddie’s diaphanous form froze in place, human smoke made somehow immobile by magic.

  Then it disappeared into the plastic doll so fast Carson hardly had time to register what had happened before it was over.

  “Did you see that?” He waved the doll at Kellie. “It was like a genie going into a lamp. He—”

  “Holy water!” Kellie screamed, pointing at the bottle.

  “Oh!” Carson dropped the doll and scrambled for the holy water he’d tossed aside earlier. He opened it and poured the blessed water over the doll, while they both chanted, “I bind you, Eddie Ryder,” three more times.

  After that, neither of them spoke for several heartbeats.

  Carson finally broke the silence. “Is that it?”

  Kellie shrugged. “I don’t know. That was the only binding spell I could find that didn’t include all sorts of herbs and potions we’d never be able to get. It’s supposed to be a spell that wizards and high priests used back in ancient times. It’s for binding demons inside a person. That was as close as I could find, and I just substituted the doll.”

  “Well, as long as it—”

  The world disappeared in a white, soundless explosion. Carson screamed, but no sound reached his ears.

  Then even his thoughts were gone.

  * * *

  Eddie’s first thought was to shoot lightning bolts down on the two unconscious figures below him, just let loose with explosive energy until nothing remained of the whole goddamned yard but a smoking crater. He actually had his hand raised in the air before he remembered it was Carson down there, and as much as his little brother had hurt him – physically and emotionally – with his betrayal, they were still brothers. And nothing came before family. So instead, he vented his anger into a nearby swamp, blasting several holes in the soft earth and setting a dozen trees on fire before his fury used itself up.

  Even after he regained control of himself, the whole episode still had him straddling the line between enraged and total insanity. Not that he was aware of his mental state. He only knew he was so far beyond pissed off he didn’t have words to describe it.

  How Carson and his goddamn girlfriend had managed to even temporarily cage him was beyond comprehension. Two teenagers with nothing but some candles, some salt, and a spell from the internet? It shouldn’t have been possible. But they’d done it, stolen him right the fuck out of Gunderson’s body and pulled him across town, trapped him in some kind of supernatural bird cage, and then stuffed him into a fucking plastic doll of all things.

  He couldn’t let it happen again, no way, no fucking how. He had to keep Carson and Little Miss Bitch Titties apart, at least until he finished taking his revenge on Hank and the rest of the town. But he’d have to be careful so that he didn’t hurt Carson in the process.

  At least not any more than the little shit hurt me.

  Once he figured out what to do, it was just a matter of waiting a couple of minutes for Carson to wake up and then slipping inside and taking over. He was tempted to leave Kellie lying there on the burning blanket, but he figured he shouldn’t deprive Carson of his one chance for pussy, so he grabbed her ankles and dragged her over to a section of lawn that was well away from any of the flames.

  Then he started walking toward town.

  * * *

  Johnny Ray Jones was heading back to the station when Sharon Mays’ voice came over the radio.

  “Chief, we have an 11-25 out near the corner of Main and Hyacinth. Possible arson. Fire truck’s already on the way. Are you still in the area or should I send Delbert?”

  Johnny Ray slammed his palm against the steering wheel and cursed. He was less than a mile away from Hyacinth. What he really wanted to do was get started on the paperwork for Todd Gunderson’s arrest – which was going to be another pain in the ass on top of all the other shit that needed his attention – but his conscience wouldn’t allow it. It would take Delbert Beauchamps ten or fifteen minutes to get to Hyacinth Street from the station.

  “No, I’ll handle it,” he told Sharon. “I’m almost there right now.”

  The one good thing about taking the call was that from Hyacinth it was only a hop and skip to his own house. Assuming
it was just a brush fire, he could duck in and check on Kellie before heading back to the station. Maybe even change his sweat-soaked shirt and grab a snack, since it looked like he’d be stuck at his desk until at least midnight. If not longer.

  Christ, at this rate I should just put a cot in my office.

  Johnny Ray was still two blocks from Hyacinth when he saw the reddish-orange glow of flames down the street. His first thought was that some kid had lit garbage cans on fire. It wouldn’t be the first time that’d happened.

  Then he got closer and saw there were small fires randomly burning in the gutters on both sides of the street. None of them were larger than a basketball in diameter, but there had to be at least twenty of them lighting up the night.

  He was so focused on the fires that he didn’t see the person walking down the center of the road until it was almost too late. Johnny Ray slammed on the brakes, sending the SUV into a screeching skid that ended up with the driver’s door only an arm’s length away from the figure, whom he belatedly recognized as Carson Ryder.

  His nostrils and throat burning from the pungent, skunk-like stink of charred rubber, Johnny Ray opened his window and leaned out.

  “Carson? What are you doing here?”

  The boy didn’t answer, just stared straight ahead, a dazed look in his eyes. His hair stuck up in all directions and dirt coated his face.

  Jesus. He’s in shock. Johnny Ray’s first thought was to get the kid to the hospital. He was halfway out of the car when he noticed something in Carson’s hand.

  A box of long-stemmed matches.

  Remembering Carson’s violent outburst a few days earlier, and thinking he could be wacked on PCP or something, Johnny Ray slowed down and approached the boy with one hand hovering near his gun. “Carson, are you okay, son? You can talk to me. What happened?”

  Carson opened his mouth, but instead of speaking, he started to sing.

  “Burning fire, in the night. Demon flames, Hell’s alight. Rock on, Chief.” Carson raised a fist, his forefinger and pinky extended in the classic devil horns.