Count to Ten

by Mark Ayre

  “Well, you sure are a woman,” said Quincy with a chuckle. “But you don’t seem so weak and feeble. You see, I never had children. Instead, I dedicated myself to this town and its people. All I want is to protect. All I want is to serve. Just like the American police, eh?”

  Amira considered him. No matter how kind he seemed, she would never trust he was on the level. When she spoke, the words all but slipped out.

  “There are some enemies your entire department couldn’t handle,” she said. “They’re like nothing you’ve encountered.”

  Quincy gave this some thought. His expression darkened.

  “Now what would make you say that?” he asked.

  Regretting saying anything she said, “Nothing.”

  She knew Quincy wouldn’t let it go. Her words were enticing. Even the dog, previously silent, began to pant.

  “This is a good town, low crime rates,” Quincy said at last. “But all towns suffer from black-hearted villains. When you’ve been a cop forty years, as I have, you see everything from petty theft to satanic massacre. I was sure I’d seen everything.”

  He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel and took a left. Amira wondered if she’d seen that street sign and fast food restaurant on her journey from warehouse to field yesterday. Unlikely. On her back, tied up, the night rolling in, she’d seen little but the interior of Richard’s car.

  “Recently, folk in this town seem to be changing,” said Quincy. “I notice things. Friends I’ve known decades suddenly seem… off.” He chuckled. “That probably seems odd to you.”

  Thinking of Ian, the quiet boy from her school days who, once infected by Heidi, had come into her home and shot her, Amira said, “No. It doesn’t.”

  “We found four bodies last night,” Quincy said. “Two of them, in two different locations, it was hard to tell what had happened. They looked as though they had… well, it’s so ridiculous it doesn’t bare considering.”

  Amira looked at him. “Melted in their blood.”

  For several more seconds, the car went on. Then, with a strange jerk of the wheel, Quincy pulled to the roadside and turned to Amira. She prepared to fight if needed.

  He said, “Are there monsters in my town?”

  It was so far from what she had expected. It shocked her into nodding.

  “Your friend’s in danger,” he said. “Are they facing the thing that’s making my people melt?”

  Concerned with the way this was going, Amira said, “You don’t want to involve yourself with this, Quincy. This is a creature more powerful than you can imagine.”

  “Fine.” Quincy withdrew his phone. Amira’s hand jerked. She was going to be arrested for mental instability. She resisted snatching the handset.

  “What are you doing?”

  “This is my town,” growled Quincy in a tone more menacing than she had yet experienced. “I’m calling for backup.”

  He pressed call. “We’re going monster hunting.”

  Thirty-Six

  Drained and depleted by fear and exhaustion, Edie, at last, had fallen asleep. Perhaps more surprising: so had Xyla.

  Like a woman at prayer, Kayla knelt beside the double bed in which slept her baby. She refused to leave, afraid Xyla might roll fourteen times and hit the floor if unattended.

  In the garage, using a combination of Paul’s cuffs and his rope, Will had restrained Leon to an uncomfortable garden chair. Half a decade had passed since Will last made use of the rope. Then to restrain a roof rack to a car before a blissful French holiday.

  Shaking, tired but wide awake, Will sat at the kitchen table, coffee clutched between pale hands. From one wall, Gina beamed. That enchanting smile. Would he ever see it again? A stranger had taken the photo last summer. Crammed on a picnic blanket were Gina, Will, Edie, Yassin and Zainab. Sausage rolls, cake, frisbee and fun. A day as beautiful as the French holiday, two miles from home.

  The coffee was guilt laced. Years ago, Zainab had pressed her key into Will’s hand. You are welcome anytime. Our home is your home. If she had listed a hundred ways Will could use the key, pop in for milk might have featured. Safehouse and prison, probably not. Their recent demise made it worse. Never had he entered without first asking. Had he another option, he wouldn’t have come.

  Clutching the mug, he fought tears. Zainab and Yassin gone. If not for Gina, he’d have already packed Edie in a car and fled to some elsewhere. Maybe France. If he didn’t believe he could save her.

  Could he save her?

  If he was going to try, he could put it off no longer.

  In the garage, tied to the garden chair, Leon was as pale as Will. His brow was slick with sweat. You only had to look at the leg to see, almost feel, his pain. Will struggled to sympathise.

  “What happened to my wife?” he said to the madman. “To her, you, your son and Imran. What happened?”

  Leon didn’t hesitate. “We found God.”

  “Gods, wasn’t it?”

  Leon didn’t deem this worthy of response.

  “Yassin was a God?” Will proceeded.

  “Yassin was blessed,” said Leon. “Chosen to inhabit a God. Before that, he was nothing. As you and I are nothing.”

  “Because we’re not Gods?”

  Leon nodded.

  “Aren’t Gods immortal?”

  “To walk amongst us, they must bond with a human. When bonded, they’re near unkillable, but sacrifice their immorality. To be with us, it’s a risk they’re willing to take.”

  “Tell you all this at the induction, did they?”

  “You joke,” said Leon with a nasty smile. “Soon, Heidi will cast loose the shackles of the human who foolishly tries to contain her. When this happens, she will come for me. My captors, she will slaughter.”

  “Slaughter. Don’t Gods smite?”

  “Keep joking. How funny will you be when Heidi decapitates your daughter. How’s that for smiting?”

  As though anger was a pin in his rear, Will jumped towards Leon. Reason was the forcefield which froze him three steps from his target.

  Deep breaths, step back, remain calm.

  “That isn’t going to happen,” he said.

  Leon smiled.

  “To join this God lovers club, you have sex with one of them?” Will asked. “You all slept with Heidi or Yassin. That was you signing up and receiving acidic blood?”

  Leon nodded. “That’s the bulk of the process.”

  “Bit of a crap perk, isn’t it? A splinter could kill you.”

  “It’s nothing compared to the benefits. I am faster and stronger than you will ever be, and even that is nothing compared to the most glorious benefit of all.”

  “Which is?”

  “Enlightenment.”

  Madness shone in Leon’s eyes. It worked into his throat and escaped, entwined with the word. In Leon’s Gods, his faith was unshakable. Heidi was no deity, but she certainly had power far beyond strength and speed.

  “How many souls have Heidi and Yassin enlightened?”

  Leon shrugged. “We’re kept separate. Until last night I didn’t know about Imran. I knew only my son and the first of us.”

  “The first?”

  “Within a couple of days of Heidi blessing this town with her presence, she had enlightened three. These she used in her ritual to bless Yassin with a second God. The process killed two. The final is the commander of her followers, alone holding the ability to contact and bring us together.”

  “Who?” said Will.

  Leon’s smile grew. A minute passed.

  From his waistband, Will withdrew a knife taken from the kitchen. The blade was neither long nor sharp enough to achieve decapitation. With ease, it would draw Leon’s blood. For Will’s purposes, it was perfect.

  “You will tell me what I need to know.”

  “The bitch who deems herself better than a God broke my leg,” said Leon. “It hurt plenty but will be nothing to the agony I feel if you cut me with that blade.”

  “Wel
l, that’s the point, don’t you think?” said Will.

  “That’s torture. You don’t have it in you.”

  “Not normally,” Will said. Then shrugged. “When I need to save my wife? There’s nothing I wouldn’t do.”

  “Don’t waste your time,” said Leon. “Your wife’s already been saved.”

  Will stretched the blade before him. “I don’t need your opinion. Who is your organiser?”

  Leon remained silent. The smile never left his lips. If Will wanted information, he had to prove willing to hurt Leon.

  Leon the monster. Will placed the blade’s tip to his prisoner’s restrained arm and pictured the animal slicing Paul’s throat. Like Imran, Leon deserved whatever Will dished out.

  But this was different to Imran, who had been attacking, threatening their lives. Leon was restrained.

  Disgusted at his captive and himself, Will withdrew the blade and retreated. Somehow, Leon held the laugh that had been building on his lips. Mad as he might be, he was smart enough not to push too far.

  Chased by Leon’s silent, mocking smile, Will crossed the room for the door, preparing to throw himself into the kitchen. Yassin and Zainab didn’t drink but stored booze for guests. Gin and tonic being Will and Gina’s favourite, there would be plenty of both in the larder. After a couple of glasses, maybe Will would be ready to cut Leon. Especially if he drank them as fast as planned.

  Halfway between garage and kitchen, a ringing phone stopped Will in his tracks. When he turned, he saw the smile drop from Leon’s face, replaced by frustration.

  “Going to get that?” said Will.

  The phone kept ringing. Bound, Leon was unable to answer.

  “No worries,” said Will. “I’ll see who it is. Take a message.”

  Crossing the room, he routed through Leon’s pockets for the phone. Leon struggled against his bindings but was unable to move.

  Grabbing the phone, Will said, “This will be your call to assemble, will it? Like the Avengers. Phoning will be your Nick Fury.”

  On the name was a screen. The name was not Nick Fury. If it had been, he couldn’t have been as shocked. Shaking his head, the phone slipped. Before it could plummet to the stone, he clutched it tighter.

  “This isn’t right,” he said. “This isn’t the first person enlightened.”

  “Who else?” said Leon.

  Will looked back as though the name might have changed. It hadn’t.

  It still read: Quincy Abram.

  Thirty-Seven

  Someone, presumably Amira, had arranged for the small sub-mezzanine room at the back of the warehouse to receive an upgrade. On the exterior, plasticine and brick remained untouched, meaning the room appeared as usual before you stepped inside. Through the door, it became apparent someone had reinforced the square with thick steel. Even a human could have bashed through the plasticine eventually. Amira had added the steel to house a demon. Smart, forward thinker that she was, she intended this place to hold Heidi while they performed the ritual. She did not think even a monster with superhuman strength could breach these walls.

  Mercury was prepared to test this, but first…

  It made sense for the room to be completely bare, as Mercury had first believed it to be. However, in each of the room’s four corners was a metal step. A cube, with each dimension about the height of Mercury’s knee.

  Approaching the first of these blocks and tapping it with her foot, she found it to be solid through. They probably all would be but, if so, why include them? There was no way they had been there before Amira enforced the walls. It stood to reason there was a method to the madness of their inclusion.

  The second block was as solid as the first. The third was hollow.

  Before investigating further, Mercury moved to the fourth block. This, too, was solid through.

  Retuning to the third block, she knelt and felt for joins or a lid, but there was nothing. Amira had constructed the box from a single sheet of metal.

  But it was hollow. There had to be something inside, and there was only one way to discover what it was. Mercury stood and crossed to the steel door, listening for Richard. When, after several minutes, she decided he was either not there or sitting in total silence, she returned to the hollow block.

  On its flat silver roof, she began to stamp.

  Later, when no one had come to collect her and Mercury had reclaimed her energy, she returned to the door. At last, she was ready to test the workmanship of whoever Amira had hired to sort the room. To do so, Mercury braced herself, lifted a foot, and prepared to kick.

  A second before she swung her foot, the door opened, revealing a tall, attractive woman with raised eyebrows.

  “You must be Mercury. I’m Olivia,” she said with an outstretched hand. “ I believe you know my son, Trey?”

  Confused, stuttering, Mercury stepped forward and took the hand. Unsure what to expect, she moved past Olivia into the warehouse proper.

  The door and shutters were closed. Leaning against the former was Richard. As Mercury appeared, he smiled and waved.

  To his right, lined against empty racking that might once have contained pallets of product, were four people, half of whom Mercury recognised.

  “Liz, Trey,” she said. “Good to see you.”

  Trey raised a hand. Liz smiled. “You too. Sorry it’s in such circumstances. I’m sure you can tell, things aren’t going to plan.”

  “Everything’s going to plan,” said Richard. “You wish to free Mercury from the shackles of ultimate power. You need someone willing to accept this horrible gift,” Richard sighed. “Unfortunately, Harvey Michaels, who was to be the unfortunate recipient, has passed away.”

  “You killed him,” said Liz.

  “We don’t have an autopsy report,” said Richard. “But we know he was very ill. At a guess, I would say he finally succumbed to his disease.”

  “After you turned off his machine.”

  “Elizabeth,” snapped Richard. “If you could refrain from the commentary, I would be most appreciative. Mercury, as you may or may not know, Amira had planned for Trey to murder Harvey the moment the demon bonded with his spirit. Brilliant though she was, it was not smart to tell me this, nor that she had two of these special knives. I have disarmed Trey, and I have Amira’s blade. There will be no demon killings today. I just want to get that out there before we begin.”

  He looked at everybody in the room. “Shall we begin?”

  “Not happening,” said Mercury. “I’m thinking; instead, I rip off your head. We take your knife, and someone plunges it through my heart. How does that sound?”

  “Oh dear,” said Richard. “I should have mentioned. These two gentlemen,” he gestured to the men Mercury didn’t recognise, stood between Liz and Trey, “were Harvey’s drivers. They were also carrying unlicensed firearms of which I have had to relieve them.”

  He drew two guns from behind his back, one in each hand. They hung lazily. Mercury was supposed to think he wasn’t paying attention. She might have a chance to get him.

  “You’re a demon imbued with incredible speed,” said Richard. “Faster than a bullet?”

  He raised a gun and pulled the trigger. One driver’s head snapped against the racking. A hole in his forehead, he crumpled at Trey’s feet. Richard sighed.

  “I guess not. So, I suggest you stay where you are and do as I say. If you move from that spot, I’ll kill someone else.”

  “I don’t mind dying,” said Liz. “Tell him where to stick it.”

  “You’re not the only person here.” Olivia was still behind Mercury, who jumped at the voice.

  “I’ll kill you last,” said Richard to Liz.

  “Maybe I was bluffing.”

  Ignoring her, Richard said, “What’s it going to be Mercury? Try to attack and watch me murder someone else. Run away and hear me do the same. Or do as I ask?”

  “If I do as you ask, you’ll become a demon and still kill us all.”

  “I imagine I’l
l try,” said Richard. “Now tell me, what’s it to be?”

  If Mercury ran at Richard, he would almost certainly kill someone. She might stop him, or he might kill two people. With Heidi at the wheel, with no dagger to kill her, they would all almost certainly die.

  “Mercury,” said Liz. “You know what Amira would want you to do.”

  “Shut up,” said Richard.

  Amira. Mercury had assumed she would die not knowing if Amira had already left this world. When she discovered her friend had survived the gunshot wound, she had cried. Now, once again, she was facing death without learning her best friend’s fate.

  Amira. Mercury mulled Liz’s words and knew what she meant. Amira was brilliant. Richard knew that and still underestimated her.

  “Right,” she said. “Let’s do this.”

  Thirty-Eight

  Qunicy appeared incensed. Though Amire tried to prevent him from making his calls, he was undeterrable. Before long, he had spoken directly to at least ten people, text twice as many, and circled his car a hundred times. When he returned, he gave Amira a look of grim determination.

  “They’re coming.”

  “Pretty short notice.”

  “It’s for the town’s safety,” said Qunicy, starting the car. “There’s no such thing as too short notice.”

  Proving his point, they arrived to find two cars already parked at the double gates which fronted the lot. Within minutes, three more had arrived. A jumble of vehicles. Something about them stood out.

  “They’re not police cars,” she said.

  Quincy was getting out. Amira followed him onto the tarmac outside the industrial estate on which sat her lot. The other drivers and passengers also emptied their cars.

  “Nor police officers.”

  “I already told you,” said Quincy. “I’m a central figure in this town. For my entire adult life, I’ve been working to protect all who work here. For the most part, I’ve done that as a police officer, but it isn’t always possible. You said this is a threat I can’t possibly understand. Tell me, is it one that can be sorted by the justice system? Will it respond to due process?”