American Monsters

by Derek Landy

  “Of course,” he continued, “I’d really only be effective on night-time adventures, for obvious reasons.”

  “Sure.”

  “During the day I’ll be in a hole in the ground.”

  “Not a hotel, then?”

  “Too risky. What if a maid comes in while I’m sleeping and opens the blinds? Instant barbeque.”

  “I guess so.”

  “But I can fly, really fast if I have to, so if you guys drive during the day, I’ll catch up with you at night and, y’know, help out.”

  “Mm-hmm. Although we do tend to sleep at night.”

  “Oh yeah.”

  “But I’m sure we can work something out.”

  “Cool,” said Glen, grinning happily. Then his eyes widened. “Hey, you’re gay!”

  “Uh yeah.”

  “That’s so cool! Why didn’t you tell me back when I was alive?”

  “I don’t know, Glen. I didn’t feel like sharing.”

  “That’s cool, that’s cool. Like I said, I thought I was gay for a minute, but, well …”

  “It was just the vampire killing you.”

  “Pretty much, yeah. But I think that minute has really changed me. As a person, like. It’s given me a newfound respect for you and your people.”

  “Oh dear Jesus, Glen.”

  “I’m serious, Amber. And, as a vampire, I feel I now understand what it’s like to be persecuted for who I am.”

  “Is that right?”

  “I’m, like, a metaphor for gays.”

  “You’re not, though.”

  “I could be.”

  “You haven’t been a vampire that long, and not enough people know vampires exist for you to actually be persecuted for it.”

  “But isn’t that what they said about gay people?”

  “No.”

  “Then Martin Luther King died for nothing.”

  “I’m going away now.”

  “What’ll I do?”

  She thought for a moment. “We’re on our way to Orlando. We’ll meet you there.”

  He brightened. “At Disney World?”

  “No, Glen, at my home.”

  “You’re from Orlando?”

  “I told you I was.”

  “Did you? I’m terrible at remembering places.”

  Amber sighed. “You still have that phone we gave you? Get to Orlando and keep it charged. We’ll call you when we arrive.”

  “That’s a plan,” said Glen. “Hey … you think he’ll be all right? Milo, I mean?”

  “I don’t know,” she said. “I hope so.”

  Glen nodded.

  She gave him a smile, walked back to the motel with that fluttering noise passing overhead.

  She let herself into Milo’s room. He was awake, sitting up. The bedside lamp was the only light.

  “How are you feeling?” she asked.

  He didn’t answer.

  “Demoriel, he … he released you from your contract,” she said. “Your soul is clean, apparently. He won’t be coming after you again.” No response. “He took your power, too,” Amber continued. “You’re not a demon anymore. I don’t know how you feel about that.”

  His face was impossible to read.

  Amber talked on, filling the void. “Clarissa’s gone,” she said. “The trucker … I don’t know what he did to her mind, but … In her head, she’s still trapped in that truck. Do you think she’ll get better?” She sighed. “I hope she does. I hope I see her again, maybe get a chance to really help her, you know?”

  No response.

  She brightened. “Glen’s back. His soul is in his body again, I mean. Isn’t that cool? He’s a little freaked out, but he’s his old self. I think. He wants to stay with us. You’re probably going to hate me for this, but I said he could. Is that okay? I have no idea how this is going to work, though. What do you do with a happy vampire? What’s he going to do with his life? I think we’re stuck with him, though. Do you mind?”

  Milo murmured something.

  “Sorry? What was that?”

  “I’ve lost track of time,” he said. “How long before we have to meet your parents?”

  She hesitated.

  “Amber? How long?”

  “It’s still Thursday,” she said. “The exchange isn’t until midnight on Saturday. But …”

  “What is it? What’s wrong?”

  She met his eyes. “I’m going to do it alone.”

  “No, you’re not,” he said immediately.

  “This is my fight, Milo.”

  “It’s our fight. Me and you. What’s brought this on?”

  “You’re not a demon anymore. If you get hurt, the car can’t heal you.”

  “Then I won’t get hurt.”

  “Milo …”

  “You’ve given me my life back, Amber. Do you understand what you’ve done? I can start living again. I can stop running, stop hiding, I can … I can grow old. For twelve years, I was in stasis. Limbo. But every day means something now. Every moment is something I can … I can reach out and touch. And you did that for me. You made me human again. So I’m not abandoning you, and you’re not abandoning me. Are we clear?”

  “Yeah,” she said. “Yeah, okay.”

  “Besides,” he said, “I have a plan.”

  Amber blinked. “What?”

  “A plan,” he repeated. “A way to take down your parents and Astaroth with one move. If it works.”

  “Seriously?”

  “I’m not as strong as I was, so it’s time to be smarter. It stands a chance of working. Not a big chance, not a good chance, but a chance.”

  “Well, that’s great,” Amber said. “That’s excellent. Will it take long?”

  He frowned at her. “You have a pressing engagement elsewhere?”

  “Kind of,” she said. “We have two days left, and, if we’re making a move against Astaroth as well, I want to take down as many of his demons as possible before we do.”

  “We’re going to be lucky to get to Orlando in time,” said Milo, “and you want to make detours?”

  “We have Shanks’s key,” she reminded him.

  “But, to use it, you need to keep a particular door in mind. How are you going to remember all the doors?”

  Amber took out her phone, and opened up the pictures of her standing in front of door after door after door.

  “Your selfies,” he said.

  She grinned. “My generation kicks ass.”

  THEY PASSED THROUGH ST Louis, driving with shades on and the windows down.

  When they stopped off at Mount Vernon, Amber’s hair was a petrified mess.

  She wrangled it under control, and picked up Shanks’s key. They went to the first locked door they could find, and Amber focused on the picture on her phone, letting the memory swim into her mind, solidify, and then she slid the key into the lock.

  Tumble. Click.

  THE HOUSE WAS OLD and dusty and unfurnished. The plainly-dressed man and woman stood against the wall, their backs to the room and their heads down, like they were waiting to be activated.

  Amber crossed to the stone fireplace and they raised their heads, turned, and Milo started firing. The bullets jerked them back, but didn’t stop them, and Amber tore away the grate, grabbing for the sack that she knew was buried underneath.

  The man and woman realised what she was doing, and their impassive features stretched in dismay. Amber pulled the blackened baby’s skull from the sack and threw it, and Milo shot it in mid-air.

  The skull exploded in fragments. A moment later, so did the man and woman.

  THEY GOT TO CLARKSVILLE.

  When she hooked the iPad up to the motel Wi-Fi, Amber found a message waiting for her on the Dark Places forum. It was from Balthazar’s-Arm-Candy, and it simply read, Tick-tock. Tick-tock.

  She shut off the iPad, and Milo came to her room and she took the key from her pocket.

  Tumble. Click.

  THE UNSTOPPABLE KILLING MACHINE that had once been
known as Jack Devries stepped through the trees, and saw them.

  “We should probably hurry,” said Milo.

  They ran for the twisted tree in the centre of the forest and Jack came after them, machete swinging. Milo emptied his gun right into his chest, but Jack didn’t seem to mind in the slightest. He swung at Milo and Milo dodged, barely.

  Amber took a knife and ran it over her forearm, crying out in pain. Her blood spilled and dropped to the ground, and the ground churned and rumbled and split apart as Jack’s body, his original body, rose to the surface. While Milo kept Jack busy, she pulled away the roots that had intertwined with his skeletal remains, grabbed the dog tags from around the neck and yanked them free.

  Jack froze, his machete poised to come down on Milo’s head. Milo rolled out of the way, and got to his feet as Jack started to rot. It spread quickly, and the machete fell, embedding itself in the ground as Jack turned to putrid mush that sank into the undergrowth.

  THEY PAID FOR TWO hotel rooms an hour outside of Nashville, then Amber took out the key.

  Tumble. Click.

  AMBER APPROACHED MR AND Mrs Paget with a smile on her face.

  “Hello there,” she said. “Did you enjoy your meal?”

  “We did,” said Mr Paget, glancing at his watch.

  “We’re just waiting for your colleague to bring our car around,” Mrs Paget said.

  Amber’s smile didn’t dim. “Oh, I don’t work for the restaurant,” she said, “or the valet service. You probably don’t recognise me, do you?”

  “Should we?” Mr Paget asked.

  “Ah, maybe not. I look a lot different tonight. I met you about three weeks ago? You were, and I don’t mean this in a bad way, but you were acting kind of drunk?”

  Mrs Paget raised an eyebrow. “We don’t drink, so I don’t think it was—”

  “You had red skin and horns,” Amber continued, “and you’d just eaten your son? It was around then?”

  They stared at her, giving Milo plenty of time to walk up behind them and put a bullet in each of their brains before they had a chance to shift.

  Tumble. Click.

  THE CATCHING Z’S MOTEL was open for business, but at this time of night there was no one in the manager’s office.

  Amber led Milo through the secret door, and they found their target in the corridor beyond. He had his snarling surgical mask pushed up to his forehead as he worked on repositioning the camera behind one of the windows.

  They watched him until he noticed them, and his eyes widened and he tried to run.

  Milo didn’t let him get very far.

  The next day they passed through Georgia, but their schedule was too tight to make a detour. So they used the key.

  Tumble. Click.

  SHE STEPPED THROUGH THE blackened debris, and with each moment came a quiet insight that burst from the back of her mind. This was the cabin Mauk had lived in, back when he was alive. After his arrest, someone had burned it down in an attempt to scrub his existence from the world. But it remained, a dark smudge on the edge of town, and not even the bravest of souls would venture here. The townspeople believed this place to be haunted. They were right.

  She found Mauk lying on a table. His eyes were closed, but he wasn’t sleeping – not really. He was simply shut down. Even monsters raised from the dead needed to rest, to recharge their dark batteries. Amber picked up a burnt plank of wood, careful not to make any noise.

  “Wakey-wakey, sleepyhead,” she said softly, and slammed the plank down on to his head.

  Mauk howled, rolled off the far side of the table, and Amber dropped the plank and wiped the soot from her hands.

  He stared at her. “What the hell did you do that for?”

  “Hi, Elias,” she said.

  “What did you—”

  “I heard you the first time,” she said. “I just didn’t want you sleeping through our final conversation together, that’s all.”

  He straightened up, squaring his shoulders. “You’re moving on, are you?”

  “You are, actually,” Amber said.

  Mauk didn’t reply for a few seconds. “Why don’t you have your horns on? If this … if the Shining Demon sent you, you’d have your horns on.”

  “I probably would,” she said. “Very well spotted. I’m not here in my official capacity as Lord Astaroth’s representative. I’m off duty.”

  Mauk took off his cap, revealing the band of burnt skin circling his skull. He bent the cap, adjusted the brim, and put it back on. “Why are you here?”

  “You know why, Elias.”

  “Is this because of the name-calling?” he asked.

  “No,” she said. “This has nothing to do with that.”

  “Then I don’t know why you’re here.”

  “I’m here to kill you.”

  He didn’t laugh at her, or curse at her, or try to run. He just said, “You can’t do that.”

  “Yes, I can,” said Amber. “I’m about to.”

  “When the Shining Demon finds out—”

  “I’m going to take care of him, too,” she said.

  Now he did laugh, but it was short, and nervous. “You’re nuts.”

  “Maybe.”

  “You’re gonna take on Astaroth? You? You stand zero chance of making it outta that alive.”

  “Maybe.”

  “Hell,” he said, taking his hammer from his belt, “you stand zero chance of making it outta here alive. You tried killing me already, remember?”

  “But now I know how to do it right,” said Amber, and the burgeoning cockiness in Mauk’s eyes dimmed instantly. “There’s always something physical to keep you creeps here,” she continued, “but, while the others tried to bury it, tried to hide it, you thought you were the smart one, didn’t you? You figured you could keep it on you at all times. Well, I say on. I mean in.”

  Milo stepped over a fallen rafter, and Mauk turned to him.

  “A heart-shaped locket,” Milo said. “Funny, I wouldn’t have pegged you as the sentimental type.”

  “This ain’t right,” said Mauk. “The Shining Demon will tear you apart for this.”

  “We know where it is, too,” Milo told him. “You cut yourself, pushed the locket into the meat of your left shoulder, didn’t you?”

  “It ain’t fair!” Mauk said, backing away.

  “So that means we just have to separate your arm from your body, and you’ll never kill anyone again.” Milo showed Mauk the hatchet he was carrying.

  Mauk roared and attacked, and Milo stepped inside the swing of the hammer and flipped Mauk over his hip. Milo tried to pull the hammer away, but Mauk grabbed it with both hands, and immediately Milo seized Mauk’s left wrist. He extended the arm and Mauk cried out and Milo chopped.

  Amber turned away from that bit. She’d seen enough blood. Mauk kept screaming, and she started to feel sorry for him. But then she reminded herself of how many people Mauk had killed, and her sympathy dried up.

  And then it was over. She looked back as Milo straightened up. The arm he was holding started to decompose, and he dropped it onto Mauk’s shrinking, rotting body. Milo put the hatchet on the table and nodded to her.

  “That’s as many as we can do for now,” he said. “Maybe when this is over we can go after the rest.”

  “If we’re still alive,” said Amber.

  He shrugged.

  THEY GOT INTO ORLANDO a little before five on Saturday afternoon. The sky was blue and the sun was beating down and the air was thick with heat, so much so that Milo was forced to turn on the air conditioning.

  Amber didn’t like being back here. She didn’t like the heat, didn’t like how it made her feel. Didn’t like the memories it conjured. Her childhood. The friends she’d never had. The discomfort she’d always felt. The love she’d never known she was missing.

  “That’s the first time I’ve had to use the a/c in a long time,” Milo muttered.

  Amber shook herself free from her thoughts. “You want to try the
radio?”

  “Not yet,” he answered. “And I won’t. Not for a while.”

  “It turned on when I was driving,” she said. “I could hear … I could hear voices.”

  He nodded. “Yeah,” was all he said.

  It was weird treating the car like an ordinary car. Treating Milo like an ordinary man. Now the car needed refuelling and Milo got hungry on the road, just like Amber did. He needed water, and rest stops, and when he got out of the car after a few hours his back was stiff and he groaned.

  It was a lot to take in.

  And so was being back in Florida. They passed her school. She didn’t mention it to Milo. It wasn’t relevant anymore. They passed landmarks she knew well, landmarks that should have bathed Amber in the reassuring glow of familiarity. But they were different now. Or, rather, she was different. She viewed them through new eyes, eyes that had seen things she’d never before imagined. The sights offered by her hometown were insignificant in comparison.

  They stopped a few miles from her house, pulled in at a gas station as the Charger’s fuel gauge hovered over red. The restroom was out of order, so Amber went to the bar across the road. She peed and washed her hands, examined herself in the mirror. She looked tired. She looked exhausted. But she didn’t look bad. She had to admit that.

  “Are you kidding?” her demon-self said, standing beside her. “You look awful.”

  “I’m not listening to you,” Amber said, fixing her hair.

  “Fine. Be like that.” Her demon-self fixed her own hair in the mirror. “So how many vials you got left? One, is it?”

  “You know it is.”

  “You used up the other one healing yourself from stab wounds you could have avoided. I mean, that’s just sloppy. Why didn’t you just kill that brat the moment she knifed you the first time?”

  “Clarissa is not my enemy.”

  Her demon-self laughed. “Whatever, dipshit. The point is, you got one more vial left. Do you think that’ll be the one that sends you insane?”