Consequence

by C R Langille

“The same.”

  The dirt road gave way to paved road. Thank God! Home was a couple hours up the road.

  “How did you end up in Hell?”

  How does anyone get to Hell? Through their own mistakes. I came in search of a dark power. An old book I found held the ramblings of a reclusive mountain man. The book told of a place of incredible power. I wanted that power.

  “I suppose you found it,” Toby said.

  Yes, but I wasn’t prepared for what I found. Those woods were a cesspool of degradation, a magnet for dark and powerful things. Like what took your friend.

  “You know what they say, don’t go sticking your nose into the shit pile.”

  I’ve been around a long time, Love. I am pretty sure I’ve never heard anyone say such nonsense.

  “You just did.”

  Bloody hell, you are a regular funny man, Love.

  Raindrops kami-kaze’d the windshield. They exploded with loud pops. The occasional blasts turned into a downpour. Toby cracked the window to let in the fresh air. The scent brought back memories of fishing with his father. For some reason, it always rained when they went up the river.

  The sun started its descent west and peeked over the mountaintops. The rays of light blanketed the canyon and painted the landscape with cotton candy, fire, and oranges. If all his friends weren’t murdered and his life threatened multiple times by supernatural forces, Toby might have thought it was a beautiful thing. Given the circumstances, he wanted to get home to his family.

  The highway snaked down the mountain pass and then leveled out near the mouth of the canyon. Smoke billowed from the power plant situated where the highway connected to the larger road. The road would take him through Spanish Fork canyon and back home.

  The Jeep rounded the corner, and Toby slammed on the brakes. The vehicle let out a screech that would put a banshee to shame and fishtailed on the wet asphalt.

  Oh my.

  Toby agreed with the assessment but couldn’t make his voice work. The smoke from the power plant plumed into the air, but not from the smoke stacks. The entire facility smoldered. The building lay broken and beaten, heaps of brick and mortar and serving as burial mounds for a new era.

  In the center of the main building, or what used to be the main building, was a hole bigger than a jumbo jet. A path of destroyed and scorched earth went from the plant south, toward the towns of Helper and Price.

  “What in the hell happened?” Toby asked.

  Something else woke up.

  “What was it?”

  No bloody idea, Love. No bloody idea.

  Something slammed into the driver’s side of the vehicle. All the windows burst inward and showered him in tiny, razor sharp shards. The Jeep flipped and rolled into the guardrail.

  The ringing in his ears drowned out everything and blood stung his eyes. Gravity pulled him toward the roof of the Jeep and his seatbelt was the only thing holding him aloft.

  He didn’t know what happened, and all he could do was hang upside down. Blood dripped from his head and slammed into the roof of the vehicle. Even through the ringing, each time the blood crashed down, it thundered through the Jeep and through his head.

  Tobias, snap out of it, Love.

  Jezebel’s voice cut through the din and pulled him back into the situation. He wiped the blood away with a shirtsleeve.

  “You aren’t really helping. What in the hell happened?”

  Jezebel didn’t answer. She didn’t have to, because black, acrid smoke filled the cab of the Jeep. Toby opened his mouth to scream, and the smoke rushed into his lungs.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  “We really need to get moving,” Doyle said.

  He paced Evard’s kitchen like a cat that chased a laser pointer, frantic but purposeful. Doyle stopped his circles when Evard dragged the worker’s body from Kelly’s room and out the door. He never understood why Fate could be such a bitch. A person should be able to change their destiny. He tried to change the worker’s, but it didn’t matter in the end.

  “We can’t go. What if Daddy comes back?”

  Linda hugged Sebastian and planted a kiss on his forehead. She gave the boy a look, a look of love mixed with fear. Doyle knew the look. Too many times, it was just before something bad happened.

  “I left a note for Toby to let him know to come here, but it’s too dangerous to keep moving around. We should stay,” Linda said.

  Doyle scratched his head, found something of interest in his fingernails, and then flung it away. He started pacing again. What was the right choice? Should they stay, or should they go? Doyle wanted to think the choices they made would make a difference, but did they really? If they stayed put, it would only be a matter of time before one of the seven found them. If they left, went mobile, then maybe they could avoid them. Maybe. And maybe Godzilla could hide in the plains of Kansas. It was time to shit or get off the pot.

  “It isn’t safe here. Plus, your husband will find you. His power connects him to you and the boy. He’ll find you.”

  “But—”

  “No buts ma’am. You’re standing in a starving lion’s cage holding a porterhouse steak. They will come for you, and I can’t hold them off. Not like this.”

  Linda opened her mouth to say something but then shut it again. She looked to Sebastian and then to the floor. Doyle could read people fairly well and figured she considered all the possibilities. There wasn’t going to be an easy answer in this situation.

  “Where would you take us?”

  “Out of the city. Too many people around here. Too many fears to play with. It’s turning into hell on earth and only getting worse as time passes.”

  “And then what?” Linda asked.

  “And then I’ll come back and try and kill the rest of the euniphrites.”

  “All by yourself?” Sebastian asked.

  “Unfortunately. My radio broke when I arrived. Not sure if the Alpha Team heard my distress call.”

  “What’s an Alpha Team?” Sebastian asked.

  Doyle winked at the kid. “They’re the people who fight the bad guys—and win.”

  Evard came back in the house. He shut the door behind him, engaged the deadbolt, and then stood there with his back turned. Evard rested his head on the door and then, with a deep lungful of air, he faced them.

  “It’s not good out there,” Evard said.

  “But Toby,” Linda said.

  “I know. I know.”

  Sebastian looked at each one of them and then hugged his mother tight. He cradled her cheeks with his hands and looked at her face to face.

  “He’ll find us, Mommy. He’ll be able to track us. Daddy’s good at that. Plus, the special agent says he can use his magics to find us even betters.”

  A single tear streamed from Linda’s eye. Doyle knelt next to her and Sebastian. He placed a hand on her shoulder.

  “If you stay here, you’re putting the boy at risk. If your husband is alive then he’ll find you, trust me. But if you stay here, other things will find you.”

  He hoped it was the right decision. Hell, something could kill them twenty feet from the door. But he knew the longer they stayed in one spot, the easier it would be for one of the remaining euniphrites to find them. Linda looked away. Sebastian stayed silent. After a moment, she nodded at Doyle.

  “Okay,” she said.

  Doyle stood and turned to Evard.

  “Get as much food and water you can all carry. Going to get bumpy on this ride. Ensure your hands and arms stay inside the ride at all times. Otherwise, something might rip them off.”

  “Right,” Evard said. “Come on boy, come help your grandpa.”

  Sebastian pulled away from his mom and ran after Evard into the bedroom. They both kept their distance from Kelly’s sewing room.

  “If it makes you feel b
etter, I know a safe house outside of Eagle Mountain I can take you to. The Bureau once housed an interdimensional traveler there for a week when it claimed asylum from its own dimension. I don’t know what ever happened to the poor fellow. Had a taste for funeral potatoes though. We used to call the place the p—”

  Linda held her hand up.

  “All I want to know is can you get us there safely?”

  Doyle pulled an abacus from his pocket and made some calculations. He whistled the theme from Jeopardy and then put the instrument away.

  “Most probably.”

  They finished gathering all the supplies they could. Evard ensured his revolver was loaded and the all the extra ammo was where it needed to be. Linda did the same with her pistol. Sebastian went into the kitchen and returned with a butter knife. He put the hero’s weapon into his pocket. Doyle checked his own arcane revolver, spun the cylinder, and snapped it into place.

  “Ready?” he asked.

  Evard nodded, and Sebastian mimicked. They stepped outside, and Linda taped a note to the door to let him know they headed toward Eagle Mountain. She tried to get the location of the safe house from Doyle, but he said it wouldn’t be very safe if they left the address taped to the door out for any looky-loo.

  The wind picked up and caused Doyle’s coat to flap all about. He put an arm up against his face to shield away the dust. A musty odor rolled across them and brought tears to his eyes. Fear nipped at his ears, and he stopped everyone else.

  “I know this smell. Take the boy back inside,” Doyle said.

  Linda grabbed Sebastian and pulled him in the house. Evard stood side by side with Doyle, but his hands shook. He barely noticed the old man, for the thing kept Doyle’s attention.

  “One of the Seven?” Evard asked.

  “Yes, a euniphrite.”

  The creature perched on top of Evard’s car. Its clawed feet crumpled the steel roof as if it were made of aluminum foil. It draped its wings over its shoulders, which gave it the appearance of a cloak. The wing’s web-work of membrane pulsed with a ginger glow.

  It lifted a talon toward Doyle and croaked something in its language. A wave of force slapped him in the face. Doyle flinched, but Evard fell to his knees and clamped his hands over his ears.

  “I don’t think he likes what you have to say,” Doyle said.

  The euniphrite threw its horned head back and laughed. It was a vile noise not unlike a goat’s scream, only deeper. The euniphrite scratched at the black tendrils on its chin and barked another unintelligible phrase.

  Once again, the wave rolled over Doyle, his legs wobbled, and blood ran from his ears. Evard rolled on the ground and flopped about in what looked like a seizure. The euniphrite lifted its clawed hand and pointed to Evard. The old man’s body lifted from the ground. He twisted and fought with an invisible assailant. In a blink of an eye, Evard’s arms flattened along his sides; his entire body shook and contorted under an unseen pressure. Then, he floated closer to the euniphrite.

  Doyle took a step forward, but the euniphrite lifted its other hand and stopped the agent in his tracks. He struggled against an unseen force, and each step was as if he moved through molasses. Even the act of drawing breath came with difficulty.

  Doyle gritted his teeth and moved with a purpose—a slow, drawn out purpose. He drew the revolver from his coat. The revolver weighed ten times what it should have. He shot from the hip, and the gun’s report echoed through the neighborhood and cut the euniphrite’s laughter short. The bullet sailed through the air, caught in the same force that held Doyle down. Ripples appeared around the slug and distorted the air around it as it moved through the unseen power.

  The projectile hit the edge of the force and popped out of sight. Blood burst from the creature’s chest. As soon as the bullet struck, the pressure let up. Doyle almost fell to the ground. He tried to comprehend the physics behind what he saw but stopped when the euniphrite scowled and stood to full height. Evard dropped to the ground and took a big breath of air. The euniphrite dug a claw into the wound and pulled out the round. Orange blood seeped from the bullet hole and hit the dented roof of Evard’s car.

  “Not good. Worked last time,” Doyle said.

  Evard staggered to his feet and leaned against the side of his house. Blood ran from his nose and ears.

  The euniphrite threw the spent slug away and stepped off the car and onto the grass. The Impala rocked on its shocks once the creature moved. It took another step forward. The porch light illuminated the thing. Fresh trophies of skinned faces hung from its belt. One of the faces looked up at Doyle, eyes still attached with some unexplainable magic and screamed in pain. Other faces joined the macabre chorus and filled the night with mournful cries. The euniphrite’s laughter joined their song.

  “How?” Evard asked.

  “You don’t want to know.”

  Doyle brought the gun up and shot again. The bullet hit home and created another wound almost on top of the old one. This time, the shot staggered the creature. The euniphrite fell to a knee. More orange blood poured from its chest. Tiny arcs of blue lightning crackled and spider-walked across its torso. It stopped laughing and dug for the bullet again. It shot them a look comprised of one part confusion and one part hatred. It barked something at them, but its voice didn’t have the same effect as before.

  Evard stepped up beside Doyle and held out a hand. He shut his eyes and took a deep breath. A dark, pumpkin-colored wisp of energy flowed from the trophies into Evard’s hand. The faces on the creature’s belt screamed louder as they withered and burnt. He then thrust his other hand out and bright golden energy coalesced around his fingers, growing into a ball of light.

  As Evard siphoned energy from the euniphrite’s trophies, Doyle emptied his revolver into the creature’s chest. He fanned the hammer and walked forward. With each shot, more ginger blood covered the downed leaves of Evard’s yard. More and more spiders of electricity covered the creature. The small blue arcs ate away skin wherever they touched. The euniphrite yelled in pain and lunged forward.

  Evard released the ball of energy. It slammed into the euniphrite and forced it to the ground. The blue and gold light lit up the night sky. Both Doyle and Evard covered their eyes and turned away. A wave of heat rolled across them, followed by a cool breeze. When the darkness returned, the euniphrite was no more. Smoldering bits of cinder danced along a slight draft and revealed the twisted skeletal remains of the thing.

  “Damn, old man. You’ve got some oomph,” Doyle said and slapped Evard on the back. Evard stumbled forward and started to cough.

  “I think I’m going to be sick,” Evard said before he threw up all over his hedges.

  “Happens when you use dark energy.”

  “I had to pull from something, and I figured you wouldn’t want to offer yourself up.”

  Doyle walked over to the bones and kicked them. They skittered across the grass.

  “They’re getting stronger, and the others won’t be so cocky,” Doyle said.

  “Why’s that?” Evard asked between coughing fits.

  “They learn from each other. The others will know what happened here, and next time, they’ll just strike.”

  “Son of a bitch. Why?” Evard asked.

  Doyle looked up. Evard ran to his car, or rather what was left of it. The blast from the euniphrite had melted not only the tires but the rims as well. Evard kicked the car. The driver’s mirror fell to the ground. Ash and orange gore covered the leaves in a big circle next to the wrecked vehicle.

  “Kelly’s going to be pissed.”

  Evard coughed up chunks of blood.

  “I don’t feel so good,” Evard said.

  The old man’s eyes shut. He fell to the ground.

  “Oh my,” Doyle said.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Toby tried to breathe. Such a simple task, it occu
rred at a subconscious level, and now when he needed it the most he couldn’t make it happen. Each time he sucked in, only smoke filled his lungs and permeated his insides. The embers in the smoke burned holes through his soul and cauterized his very being.

  He lashed out and tried to break free, but how could he get away from darkness? It constricted around him and made it difficult to move. Toby wanted to scream, but he couldn’t.

  The darkness burned his eyes and tears ran down his face. Waterfalls of defeat blazed trials down his soot covered cheeks.

  Sorry buddy, Daddy might not make it home. Maybe next time. Except, there wouldn’t be a next time, would there?

  Fight it Tobias, you can do it, Love.

  Somehow, he could still hear her. He wanted to fight it, but he couldn’t breathe.

  Fight against it or you won’t ever breathe again, you gob shite!

  Stop fighting, you pussy. Let it happen, and we’ll get you back to your family for a delicious reunion.

  The new voice in his head sounded faintly of Brock, but there were other voices mixed in. All layered upon one another, and each fought for the spotlight. The effect was maddening. Toby couldn’t tell if it was the voice or the smoke, but the mix of sound put his insides on spin cycle.

  Toby tried to talk, but it only let more of the acrid smoke in. He choked on his words, and the ash consumed his lungs. Toby released the seatbelt and hit the roof of the overturned jeep. Broken pieces of glass stung his skin like a thousand insects at once.

  He crawled out of the vehicle. The warm asphalt anchored him in the real and helped him get a grip on something other than the pain.

  A small slipstream of air made it to his lungs. Toby tried to scream again, but it came out in a gasp and scratched the insides of his throat.

  Quit fighting, Toby Dick. Good effort and all. Nobody will say you gave up. But in all reality… give up. It’s getting old, the voices said, whispered, and screamed.

  Everything went dark.

  When Toby woke, he sat on the bank of the Provo River and watched his father fish. He realized it was a memory and remembered the moment in detail. When he was a child, his father used to take him fishing on the weekends. It turned into an exploration event for him, and he crawled up and down the steep, rocky banks. He would skip stones across the river until his father yelled at him to stop because it would scare the fish away.