The Man on Little Sweden

by Sam Harding

  “What are you thinking about?”

  David was pulled away from his thoughts and he looked at her. She was truly beautiful. Tall, blonde, and just a year younger than himself at twenty-seven. He’d met her at the local Catholic Church in town two months ago. They’d hit it off as friends nearly right away, although at first, he’d been far too afraid to even speak with her. Her persistence in wanting to know more about him is what finally caused him to come a little ways out of his shell and ask her on a date. It was on that first date that David learned Mary lived her life for God and hadn’t even kissed a man much less had sex with one. How could a demon be so pure? Did that mean her parents were also angels too? He’d yet to meet them, but how could demons raise someone so perfect?

  “I’m sorry?” David asked, accidentally sounding more defensive than he’d intended.

  Marry squinted and smiled crookedly. “I asked what you’re thinking about. You’ve been quiet for a while now.” She kicked at a chunk of ice, sending it skidding on the sidewalk and into the side of a shop. It seemed everything was frozen this time of year.

  “I – I –” Don’t be so stupid, David. “I was thinking about you actually.”

  “Me?” Her pretty green eyes widened and she touched her chest with her free hand. “What about me?”

  “I just –” Damn you. Spit it out. “I just really like you, is all.”

  “You’re sweet, you know that?”

  This caught David by surprise. No girl had ever called him sweet before. He was more used to being laughed at and mocked for whatever reason. “I am?”

  “You are.”

  The Demon Slayer blushed. He then wondered to himself, would she find me sweet if she knew my place on this world? Would she understand what it is that I do? Would she understand if I told her of the man I murdered this morning? No, – not yet. Soon.

  They rounded a corner and continued up another busy road. Mary’s smile remained on her face, but David was suddenly struggling. This sidewalk was more crowded than the last one, and every face he saw, bore the face of a monster. He wondered if Mary could see them too, but judging by her smile, he sensed she could not. Perhaps my gift is only unique to me?

  “You don’t ever talk about your parents,” Mary pointed out.

  David was slightly taken aback by her random statement. “Er – no, I guess not.”

  “Do you still talk with them?”

  “They died when I was young.”

  “I’m so sorry – how?”

  They were meth cooks who shot at a King County SWAT team. “They were murdered. Shot. It’s hard for me to talk about.”

  “My goodness, David. I truly am sorry. I’m sure they were wonderful people.”

  David felt the self-inflicted cuts on his back through his clothing. The sticky blood clung to his shirt, sending signals of pain to his brain with every step he took. The self-inflicted cuts only covered what his parents had already done – like a new coat of paint over an old one. He missed them so much.

  “They were. I wish I could have my time with them back. They were strict . . . and I remember hating them for it, but now – now I understand they were only trying to do what was best for me. They loved me. They truly loved me.”

  “I’m sure they did,” Mary said, wrapping her arms around David’s right bicep.

  David felt the pinch of the clothespin in his pants and winced. His mother truly did know what was best.

  “Are you still looking for work?”

  David shrugged. “Off and on. I enjoy helping out at the church, but obviously that doesn’t pay. I don’t know, maybe I can get work at the mill.”

  “I hear they pay decent,” Mary pointed out.

  “They do,” David confirmed. “But until then, I think my disability will cover my expenses. I don’t need a lot.”

  David had joined the Marines right after high school. A four-year contract had been cut short at two when he broke his sternum on a ruck march. He’d fallen down a steep incline with an eighty-pound pack on his back and landed flat on his chest at the bottom of the hill. That had seen to a medical discharge and a 90% disability rating, earning him nearly two-thousand dollars a month from the VA. Truth was, David could have stayed in the Marines if he really wanted to, but the reality was, he hated everyone in his platoon. Being a new guy in the infantry was hard enough, but it’s even harder when your brothers-in-arms think you’re a freak-show shit bag. At least he’d managed to silence one before leaving, making it look like a robbery gone bad in the sunny town of Palm Springs, California. The best leave he’d ever had.

  He couldn’t help but think of the knife he’d used to slit the throat of Lance Corporal Danny Lopez, his first fire-team leader. It was his very own issued K-Bar combat knife, a knife he still had, now in his top left dresser drawer. The man had been a true demon, and although David hadn’t been able to see his true form then, he knew better now. It hadn’t been until years after his discharge that David became awoken to his mission on Earth.

  “Does it still hurt?” Mary asked, again pulling David from his thoughts. “Your chest I mean.”

  “No.” It was an honest reply. Truth was, it only hurt for a short period of time anyway. He’d only made it seem more painful than it actually was just to get out of the Corps.

  Mary nodded. “I broke my arm once.”

  “Really?” She has scars too?

  “Fell off my bike when I was nine. Snapped my radius and ulna in two, like a couple of toothpicks. One even went through the skin. Look!” She let go of David and pulled up her right coat sleeve. Sure enough, there was a faint scar running along her inner forearm.

  David looked sympathetic, but in reality, he was ecstatic to learn she had also experienced pain. “Did it hurt?”

  “Oh, so bad,” Mary said with an exaggerated tone in her voice. “I think it took hours for me to stop crying. My mom and dad could hardly get me to quit bawling.” She laughed. “Such a big baby, I was.”

  David shook his head. “That’s not being a baby, that’s just pain.”

  “You don’t seem like a crier,” she said, nudging him with her arm. “Too macho for that.”

  “Maybe,” David agreed, not at all catching the joke. In his mind, he truly was macho. That’s why God had chosen him for his mission. He was David, not unlike King David who slayed the monster Goliath and then led his people to glory under the guidance of the Lord. He couldn’t help but wonder, if the world wasn’t about to come to an end, would people thousands of years from now tell my story as well?

  He believed they would.

  But the world didn’t have thousands of years left. No, it had only one. A higher power had made that very clear to him, which was why it was so important he got his mission right on the 24th. That was when he’d truly be judged, when his skills as a warrior would truly be tested. The 24th would be the last day on Earth as mankind knew it, if his hunt succeeded, and the demon he was to hunt that day would be the worst of the worst. One disguised as an innocent child. The Antichrist himself.

  But which child? David badly wanted to know. But he’d been told by the higher power to be patient, that in due time, it would be revealed to him and he would know exactly what to do when the time came.

  “You know what, David?” Mary asked.

  “What?”

  Mary stopped walking, which also brought David to a stop since she was holding onto his arm. Without warning, Mary stepped up on her tiptoes and kissed David on the lips. He could feel her soft mouth against his and could feel her breath against him. Although the action terrified him, David did not pull away. Marry pulled away about an inch, and then kissed him one last time before leaving her tiptoes.

  “What – why?” David asked in total shock.

  “Because, I really like you, too.”

  “I – I’m your first kiss?” He asked, his voice an octave higher than usual.

  “Yep!” Mary blushed. “Yours too, right?”

  Normally, he�
�d be embarrassed to admit this, but not today. “Yes.”

  They stood on the sidewalk, staring into each other’s eyes for what seemed like a long moment before Mary wrapped her arms around David in a tight hug. Not knowing what else to do, David held onto her, realizing the last thing he wanted to do was let go.

  That was, until, he felt the clothespin do what it was intended to do.

  CHAPTER NINE

  A Road I can Never Forget

  TO GET FROM my house to Little Sweden Road, I have to drive through city limits first. I live on the southern outskirts of Solace, but Dr. Shultz lives on the western outskirts, even further out than I do. I don’t mind though. The drive gives me time to think, time to clear my head a little and plan out what I need to do once I get to Dr. Shultz’s house.

  It’s a harder task than I’d thought it would be. Just the thought of that place makes my skin crawl and the little hairs on my arms stand on end. I can’t think of it as anything other than the starting line of my downward spiral, but I know I need to focus. Bad memories or not, the home is the new starting line for a new job. A job I intend to finish.

  I see that I’m past the forests and ranches and slow down to 25 miles per hour as I enter the Solace city limits. The county seat is busy with traffic and even more congested than usual due to the icy conditions. Where people are usually more kept to themselves outside of Solace, the small city is a beehive of madness this time of day. For a city of only seven-thousand people, it often seems just as lively as downtown Spokane. People are out and about, most likely getting last minute Christmas shopping out of the way, reminding me I still haven’t gotten anything for Thomas. That will have to wait. The 25th is still almost a week off.

  My thoughts of Thomas evaporate when I stop shy of a crosswalk to let a couple by. They’re young, both in their mid-twenties or so. The girl is a pretty tall blonde and her boyfriend – her boyfriend is wearing the same jacket as the guy I was watching from the windows of the diner. He’s fairly tall, very thin, and has a head of short black hair. I can’t help but wonder if he is the same guy I was so curious about before. If he is, then I truly am paranoid for thinking he was someone to be leery of. This guy doesn’t seem threatening at all. As a matter of fact, the only threatening thing I see in this picture is the fact that the guy seems like he’ll turn into a skeleton at any point if he doesn’t get some fatty foods in his system.

  But then, the man looks at me. It’s as if he can read my thoughts and I’m suddenly paralyzed by a pair of cold gray eyes staring at me through my windshield. I feel the hairs on my arms rise as the man holds the stare in mid-stride. His girlfriend stands between him and I, talking away, thinking she has his attention, but she doesn’t. His attention is solely on me. In that instant, I realize that maybe I was right to be suspicious of this guy, because he just turned from harmless to absolutely terrifying – and all he’s doing is looking at me.

  Just as he and blondie reach the center of the crosswalk, he turns away from me and focuses his attention back on her. A part of me wants to stay where I am and watch him, but I don’t feel like listening to the sound of angry car horns behind me. Reluctantly, I ease off the brakes and continue forward.

  Once I clear the crosswalk, I take another look out my side windows, craning my neck to get a look at the gray-eyed man and the blonde. They’ve made it to the opposite sidewalk by now, and blondie is still chatting away about something, but not gray-eyes. He’s staring right at my car, as if he’s studying my face through my own side mirror.

  “What the fuck?” I mumble to myself when I realize my own heart is racing in my chest. Not many people in this world get my nerves going like that, and the fact it only took this guy a few seconds of staring at me to do it, makes me all the more nervous. I glance at the FAL behind the passenger seat, feeling somewhat comforted by the powerful battle rifle being only arm’s length away.

  “You need to relax.”

  I jump in my seat at the sound of the soft female voice. My eyes dart to my rearview mirror, but there is nobody in the back seat, and yet, I can still feel her presence. “Dani?”

  “Not everyone is your enemy, my love.”

  “I know,” I say, gluing my eyes to the road. I want to check my mirror again but decide not to. She’s never visited me twice in a day before, and I’m afraid if I push my luck, she’ll vanish again. “But not everyone is my friend either.”

  “You need to relax.”

  “You said that already. How can I relax when I don’t have you?”

  “You always have me. What you’re missing is yourself.”

  “What the hell does that mean?” I ask, suddenly annoyed.

  Dani doesn’t respond. Instead, I’m left in silence once again, her ghost having vanished to wherever it likes to vanish to. I fight the urge to get upset, to tear up and let my emotions take control. But, I realize, maybe she has a point. Maybe the gray-eyed man isn’t a threat at all – maybe I really do need to relax.

  As I slowly make my way through town, I decide I will try and take my dead wife’s advice.

  *

  “Who are you?” David whispered to himself, his gray eyes narrowing at the man behind the windshield of the Bronco. There was something about the demon, something familiar, and yet something terrifying. There was no doubt in David’s mind that the driver of the Bronco was indeed an agent of Satan. There was no other way to explain why he felt the way he did about him.

  When he and Mary were about half way across the crosswalk, David turned his head and looked ahead, partially hoping the man in the Bronco would just continue forward and leave him alone with Mary. But, when he and Mary reached the other side of the street, he couldn’t help but look back at the Bronco.

  Sure enough, through the driver side mirror, he could see the demon inside was looking back at him through his windows. This demon, David realized, unlike all the others, knew who he was. This demon knew that David was here on a mission from God. He thought of the 24th and wondered if being so close to that date meant Satan was putting his soldiers on higher alert than normal.

  If that’s true, David thought to himself, watching the Bronco disappear around the bend, then I need to be more vigilant than ever. I need to be prepared for the day of Glory – I need to practice on one more.

  *

  At the center of Solace, there is a round-a-bout which branches in four different directions. I take the round-a-bout to the last exit, heading westbound on Watson Lake Road. After about a mile and a half of hardware stores, automotive shops, and agriculture supply stores, I exit city limits and find myself clear of shops on both sides of the road. It’s a straight stretch of iced-over pavement with nothing but pasture for cattle on both sides. Ahead, maybe two miles up the road, it turns into a sharp hill that disappears into the beginnings of the forest.

  I pass an old barn. In front, an old man is in a round-pen leading a young horse in circles by a lead rope. Despite the freezing temperatures, the farmer is still taking the time to work with the animal. I can’t help but envy the man, wishing my biggest problem right now was trying to tame a horse in icy conditions.

  The gray eyes of the man from the crosswalk re-enter my mind, and I shudder behind the wheel, and have to remind myself of my wife’s advice.

  I make it to the hill and feel the RPMs increase as my Bronco begins climbing. The sunshine turns to shade as I’m swallowed by the tall evergreens on both sides. A few miles into the climb, the road plateaus and I enter a residential community. A sign on the right with big block letters reads: Watson Lake Resort.

  There are small houses on both sides of the road, most empty, awaiting their owners who only show up during the summer months. About a half mile into the community, the forest opens up on the right side, revealing a beautiful view of the frozen lake. From my vehicle, I can see the small shacks along the beach, making up what consists of the small resort. A couple of people are on the icy surface of the lake, bundled up in warm clothing with fishing pole
s in their hands.

  Before the Christmas Eve Butcher had come on scene, I’d taken Dani to Watson Lake to go ice fishing almost every year. The funny thing was, she absolutely hated regular fishing, but there was something about ice fishing she found to be fun. I can’t help but imagine being out there on the ice with her right now, so badly wishing the fantasy was a reality.

  I pass the resort, and eventually, the lake too, leaving the frozen water in my rear-view mirror along with my memories. It’s time to focus on the present now.

  I take a deep breath and slow the Bronco before taking a left onto an unpaved road leading further up the mountain. I don’t bother to look up at the blue street sign to confirm it’s the right road.

  Little Sweden is a road I can never forget.

  CHAPTER TEN

  Walking Chunk of Muscle

  THE ENTIRE WAY up the mountain is a snow-covered S-curve obstacle course. I don’t think Solace county cares too much about Little Sweden, because it doesn’t look like it’s been plowed since the last snowfall. The narrow road itself makes me glad there’s only one man that lives at the top, otherwise navigating oncoming traffic from either direction would be a nightmare, especially in the icy state it’s in now.

  Eventually, the thick forest to the right changes from a wall of trees to a wall of tall stone. At the top of the stone, I can make out wrought-iron spikes, and I know from my last visit that there are laser-trip motion detectors connected to the spikes that run the entire length of the outer perimeter. Further down, the wall gives way to a tall and old wrought-iron gate. The ironwork is beautifully done, forming the initials H.S. in the metal weaves. Dr. Heinrich Shultz had the gates installed not long after buying the property nearly fifty years ago, and had publicly joked nobody would be able to find his place if not for his initials on the front gate.

  I swallow hard and pull my Bronco up to the gate, parallel with a metal speaker box, and roll down the window. I look up at the top of the gate through my windshield, noting the two surveillance cameras looking down at me like a couple of vultures circling a carcas. A beep from the speaker gets my attention and I turn my attention away from the cameras.