Consequence

by C R Langille

  If he had power of that magnitude, then he could keep Linda and Sebastian safe from anything. He could keep them from going anywhere. Keep them safe. Keep his little shit in line.

  Toby took a deep breath. Those weren’t his words. He never needed to keep Sebastian in line. It was getting harder and harder to separate his thoughts from Brock’s.

  It’s them again, Love. Keep a cool head, and we’ll get through this.

  Thunder clapped louder than anything he heard before in the natural world. A ball of the red lightning burst from the euniphrite’s hands. As the sphere flew forward, the ball expanded and contracted in size. With each expansion, tendrils of power licked out in various directions and searched for anything they could grab on to.

  The pilot rolled around the ball without a scratch. Yet as the fighter straightened out, one of the tendrils whipped out from behind and hit the jet’s wing. Smoke billowed from the aircraft, followed by fire. The plane wavered and angled to the ground.

  “He isn’t going to make it,” Toby said.

  The euniphrite chuckled, but its laugh died as the F-16 realigned and slammed into the beast, exploding in a ball of flame. From the cloud of smoke, the debris and the euniphrite fell to the earth. The fighter had finally brought the enemy down.

  Toby stood tall and gave a slow salute to the fallen pilots. After a moment of silence, he got back into the Jeep and hit the road. A small itch at the back of his head told him Sebastian and Linda were in trouble.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Doyle pushed Elder Mayberry to the side and opened fire. The little girl’s head nearest to them exploded in a pink mist as the bullet passed through. Blood and brain matter rained on the floor. The other two girls cocked their heads toward Doyle and hissed in unison. They scrambled from the pews and out of sight. The other churchgoers hopped to the floor before they crawled along the carpet.

  “Move,” Doyle said.

  Doyle put a little power into the command. He couldn’t help but smile when his word pulled Evard and the others from their shock. Linda and Sebastian headed for the doors.

  “No, not that way!” Doyle said.

  He squeezed the trigger and hit the girl’s mother as she reached out toward Sebastian. The round took her cheek as well as half her face, and she flopped on the ground. A tall man who wore a tweed jacket stood near Evard. Bones ground together in a loud scrape as the man extended his arms out and moved forward as if to embrace Evard. Evard backed away and fired his weapon. Two rounds hit the man in the chest, which elicited a scream but not much more.

  “The head,” Doyle said.

  Evard shifted aim and emptied the man’s brain cavity across the nearby pews.

  “No, no, no,” Bishop Thomas moaned.

  The pudgy man stood on the edge of the balcony, his hands on his face. Bishop Thomas’ eyes were wide. His jowls trembled and then turned bright red. “They were saved. I saved them!”

  One of the creatures crawled toward the podium on all fours. It hunched down low to the ground and then sprung into the air toward the Bishop. The fat man fell onto his back as Doyle whipped his gun up and squeezed the trigger. The shot took the creature in the eye and knocked it down onto Bishop Thomas.

  Elder Mayberry stood frozen. He watched everything with a heavy look in his eyes. Doyle pulled him down from the podium.

  “Pull it together. I can’t babysit you right now.”

  Elder Mayberry nodded but remained silent.

  Gunfire grabbed Doyle’s attention back to Evard and the others. Linda pushed Sebastian behind her. Smoke drifted from the barrel of her gun, and one of the little girls lay dead at her feet. Evard wrestled with the last girl. She was on top of him on the floor, and Evard gripped both her wrists. He drew his knees up close to his chest to keep her at bay. The little girl spun her head around until she looked at him upside down and then opened her mouth even wider. A choppy sound exuded from her throat. It took Doyle a moment to realize she laughed at him. Her neck lengthened and popped, each crack louder than the last. The girls face got closer and closer to Evard’s until the pale skin on the girl’s neck split. Blood and ichor rained down from the girl’s wound and onto Evard’s face.

  Doyle fired. His round went off the mark and clipped the girl in the shoulder. She swayed her head toward the agent and scrunched her expression into a look of feral hatred. His next shot turned her face into a red blot.

  “Bedtime for you.”

  He grabbed a speed loader from his pocket while he opened the cylinder of his gun. Doyle slapped the bullets in place and with a flick of the wrist reseated the cylinder. The action only took a few seconds, but it was more than enough time for one of the creatures to leap up and drive Doyle to the floor.

  The thing snapped at him with a distended jaw. He pushed his arm up between its mouth and his throat. Pain shot up his forearm. The creature struggled to tear into flesh. Doyle brought the revolver up, but the creature knocked it away. The gun slid across the carpet and under a pew. He brought his free hand up and behind the creature’s neck. Doyle sucked in a deep breath and pressed forward with his forearm while at the same time pulled down with his other hand. The thing on top of him struggled harder, but then a loud snap reverberated from its neck through Doyle’s torso. It stopped moving.

  He rolled it off him and got up. Saliva and blood covered the duct tape trench coat, but it looked intact. Doyle pushed the sleeve up. His forearm was red and swollen but also intact.

  “Duct tape will fix anything,” he said.

  “Bishop Thomas, no!” Elder Mayberry said.

  The Bishop walked off the podium and stumbled to the floor. He walked toward a woman near the back of the room who crouched near the doors. She beckoned him with a finger, and he followed the siren’s call.

  “You shouldn’t be here,” Bishop Thomas said. “I saved you.”

  Elder Mayberry ran toward him, but Doyle intercepted and dragged Mayberry to the floor. The young man tried to break free, but Doyle locked him down.

  “Leave him,” he said.

  “But, she’ll kill him,” Elder Mayberry said.

  “Perhaps. What’s it to you? He was going to kill you.”

  “It doesn’t matter.”

  Doyle watched for a moment and then shoved the Elder away. He crawled to where his gun lay and picked it up. The Bishop was almost to the woman when Doyle split her head open with a well-placed shot.

  Bishop Thomas stopped and dropped to his knees. He gathered up the woman’s body close to his and hugged her tight. His shoulders shuddered as he rocked back and forth.

  Doyle glanced to Elder Mayberry.

  “His wife.”

  “Ah,” Doyle stood up straight and put a hand to his chest. He bowed his head. “When you depart from me, sorrow abides, and happiness takes his leave.”

  Elder Mayberry gave him a look. It was the same look Doyle received when he spoke Latin to dogs.

  “Skipped out on Shakespeare day, eh?” Doyle asked.

  Evard, Linda, and Sebastian came up to them. Dark blood covered Evard’s chest and clothes, and the old man leaned against the podium to catch his breath. The room was eerily silent. Everyone looked past Doyle to the back of the room.

  “Something’s behind me, isn’t it?”

  He turned. The creatures surrounded the Bishop and crouched around him as if he were a campfire. Yet, they looked to the door.

  The heavy wooden doors bulged inward and then exploded in a shower of splinters. The blast of wooden needles peppered the Bishop and drove him to his back. A wave of rotten air rushed into the room. Doyle wrinkled his nose and put an arm up against his face.

  A clawed hand reached in and grabbed onto the doorjamb. A euniphrite dipped down to get through and looked around. A smile slithered onto his face.

  “Evard, take them out of here, quick!” D
oyle said.

  The euniphrite croaked something in its language. The creatures around the Bishop cocked their ears into the air as one and then scurried along the walls to block the other set of doors.

  “Well, shitcakes,” Doyle said.

  “What’s a shitcake, Mommy?”

  Linda frowned at the boy.

  “Bad news,” Evard said.

  Evard brought his gun up and emptied it into the euniphrite’s chest. The bullets slammed into the creature but bounced off the euniphrite’s skin as if it were steel. It laughed, and the walls of the church shook. The intricate linework of tattoos on the creature’s body lit up in brilliant rufescent glow. The faces in its clothing glowed with the familiar orange and took up a chorus of giggles, screams, and moans.

  “Leave this place. You defile God’s house with your very presence,” Bishop Thomas said as he got to his feet.

  The euniphrite gave the pudgy man a crooked smile. The tattoos on his arms brightened and turned from red to rosy. A hellish heat turned the church to an oven as smoke billowed from the creature’s hand and wrapped the Bishop up head to toe.

  The man screamed in pain as the smoke twisted around his body and constricted like a snake. The skin on Bishop Thomas’ face rippled before the smoke ripped a patch away. A strip not wider than a pencil peeled off and exposed bloody skull beneath. More of the man’s flesh swelled and ripped off in the smoky tornado. Blood mixed with the magical smoke, and the vortex increased its speed. The euniphrite snapped its fingers. Bishop Thomas exploded into blood and bone.

  The beast walked to a dark stain that used to be Bishop Thomas. It reached down and picked up what looked like a bloody rag. The creature flicked it once and then attached it to its belt. A moment later, orange light appeared behind the eyes and mouth of the late Bishop. His scream joined the grisly choir of the other faces.

  Doyle flicked a piece of the Bishop off his shoulder.

  “Not very nice,” Doyle said.

  He raised his gun and shot. The bullet slapped the euniphrite’s forehead. The creature’s skull snapped back, and thunder cracked in the room. The euniphrite locked eyes with Doyle and reached up with a claw. A trickle of orange blood dripped down its face, which turned its smile into a look of anger. The euniphrite rooted around the wound and finally dug the slug out. It dropped it on the carpet and bellowed something in its own language.

  “No good.”

  Doyle shot again and hit it in the shoulder. Like the first shot, the creature shrugged it off.

  “Not good at all.”

  “Doyle,” Evard said.

  “Run. Run fast and hard.”

  “But what about them?” Evard asked and pointed to the creatures surrounding the door.

  “Nuke ‘em from orbit,” Doyle said, and he put a bullet into one of the thing’s head. It hit the ground and stopped moving.

  Linda took aim and fired. The creatures scattered in different directions. One of her shots hit one in the leg. It let out a pig’s squeal and wriggled on the carpet. Another shot silenced its cries.

  ***

  Elder Mayberry backed away from the creature. He moved back until he hit the edge of the podium. His mind screamed at him as he tried to process what he had just witnessed. He wanted to curl up in the corner and wait for the end.

  Yet, he didn’t.

  Something inside him rallied against the creature. Whatever gave Mayberry strength wanted the thing destroyed. It was angry at the euniphrite for defiling the holy place.

  Elder Mayberry didn’t know how he knew the thing’s name, but it was almost as if he always knew.

  Whispers came to life in the back of his mind and then from all directions. Mayberry couldn’t understand the words, but they soothed him and filled him with warmth. The warmth reminded him of a nice sunny summer day. The whispering voices grew louder, but it didn’t matter; the louder they became, the better he felt.

  The euniphrite turned its attention from the strange man in the duct tape trench coat and spoke. Mayberry couldn’t understand the monster’s language before, but now the words were crystal clear.

  “It will do you no good; your faith will not save you. Do you think the power of your petty God can stop us? He couldn’t stop us before.”

  The euniphrite took to the air again. Its vein-filled wings buffeted the air and kicked up pamphlets situated in the back of the pews. The creature landed next to Mayberry; the force of its presence drove the Elder to his knees. Doyle ran to help, but the creature batted the agent away with a wing.

  Elder Mayberry did the only thing he thought he could—he prayed. The beast laughed a deep and crackling laugh that hurt Mayberry’s insides. He wanted to throw up, but he was afraid more than bile would come up.

  “How interesting,” the euniphrite said.

  The tattoos on the creature’s skin blazed an unholy red once again. This close, their light created a wave of nausea and drove Mayberry to his knees. Smoke billowed once again from the creature’s hand. Yet, Elder Mayberry wasn’t afraid.

  Elder Mayberry shut his eyes tight and prayed even harder. As he prayed, Mayberry began to understand the voices in his head. The presence of the euniphrite dwindled to a speck, a fly that buzzed around his head. The voices turned into a symphony, a chorus mightier than any he’d heard before. The tears from his eyes were no longer tears of pain but of joy. As the music hit its crescendo, a bright white light filled his body. The voices told him what he needed to hear. Mayberry got to his feet and opened his eyes.

  “Stop!” Elder Mayberry said.

  His voice carried an authority and weight that crashed against the puny walls of the church. The man who stood in Elder Mayberry’s place demanded respect.

  The euniphrite narrowed its eyes and brought a clawed hand up as if it were blocking a bright light.

  “I wondered if we would encounter a true faithful. I didn’t count on one so soon though. Your death will bring us much power. It’s been ages since I’ve devoured a celestial.”

  “You have no right to be here. Your presence is an abomination, as is the source of your powers,” Elder Mayberry said.

  ***

  Doyle got to his feet. The blow knocked him out for a few breaths, but a familiar voice woke him. A pillar of light surrounded Elder Mayberry’s body. It was hard to look at, but Doyle also found he couldn’t look away. Whenever the Elder spoke, a chorus sang behind the man’s words. One voice in particular stood out from the others, a voice he remembered from his childhood. The others didn’t react at all to the chorus, and Doyle couldn’t tell if they heard it or not. Linda and Sebastian watched Elder Mayberry while Evard fought to kill the last of the creatures. Only Sebastian gave Mayberry the same attention Doyle did.

  “Special Agent Doyle, what’s happening?” Sebastian asked.

  “A miracle,” Doyle replied.

  ***

  The euniphrite shot the smoke at Elder Mayberry, but it hit an invisible barrier and rolled around Mayberry’s body without harm. Mayberry spread his arms wide, and the light that surrounded his body momentarily took on the shape of large wings. The remaining creatures crumpled to the floor as Mayberry severed the link between them and the euniphrite. From the chest of each of the bodies, a small blue orb floated and danced its way high into the church until flying through the roof.

  “How dare you! Those were ours to consume.”

  “They were never yours, foul beast,” Mayberry said.

  The euniphrite growled and spread both hands open wide. The tattoos burned an angry burgundy and thrummed with a slow, rhythmic beat. Purple flames spread along the creature’s fingertips, and when it brought both hands together, the flames mixed into a sphere the size of a basketball. The ground shook and debris rattled and rolled toward the euniphrite.

  The white light intensified from Mayberry’s core. It burned his insides
as his body tried to contain the energy. In the back of his mind, a gruff voice apologized for what was about to happen.

  Oddly enough, Mayberry wasn’t sad. He no longer felt any pain or sorrow, only warmth. The light was every good memory he’d ever had. The light was his grandmother’s freshly baked cookies on Sunday afternoons. The light was the trip to the zoo with his father on his sixth birthday. The light was the sparkle in his fiancée’s eyes when they kissed for the first time.

  “You are a fool. You know you can’t use your true potential in such a fragile shell of flesh.”

  “I don’t need to. You’re still weakened from your imprisonment. I’ll finish what we started so many centuries ago.”

  Elder Mayberry let the warmth take him.

  ***

  Doyle watched in silence. His limbs tingled at the play of energy around him, and the pillar of light brought a smile to his face. Celestials didn’t throw that kind of power around every day, and Doyle counted his blessings he could witness it. The pillar around Elder Mayberry grew in size until it bathed the entire church in its embrace. The euniphrite tried to throw its ball of flame at Mayberry, but the light took it first.

  “Look away.” Doyle said. “Don’t look at it; it will blind you.”

  Doyle had only seen such a feat once before. He didn’t go blind, but the rest of the men on his team couldn’t see for years. Doyle watched for as long as he dared. White wings, the color of eggshells and made of pure energy, spread from Mayberry’s back. The young man lifted his head and arms to the roof. The euniphrite fell to its knees as the power behind Mayberry forced it down. That’s when Doyle looked away.

  For a moment, the full force of the choir behind Mayberry’s voice filled the church. It was beautiful and overpowering at the same time. Doyle’s ears rang, and the warm trickle of blood rolled from them.

  The euniphrite let out a scream, but the creature’s cry was drowned out by the ringing in Doyle’s ears. Through the ring, one voice stood out—the voice of Doyle’s father.

  “Doyle, I’m glad I could save you.”

  “Father, I thought you were dead.”