by R. D. Tarver
Agostino nodded as he met Jesse’s eyes. “If there are any survivors left, we would likely find them near the nexus. And likely alive. The good news is that we might still have time. The sonopods are using the townsfolk as fuel cells, but they will need many more to finish building the nexus. The bigger the battery, the stronger the bridge between worlds.”
“And how do we vanquish these foes?” asked Mazes. “What are their vulnerabilities? Silver? Frost magic? Perhaps an aversion to sunlight?”
“Music.”
The word came out definitively, with no approximations or speculation.
“That’s it? Just music?” asked Rust.
“It is a little more complicated than that. In short, a very specific overloaded acoustic waveform could disrupt the visitors’ gateway, thus dislodging their foothold on the entrance to our world. We have a recipe for such a waveform, but until now we have lacked the means to make it operational.”
“Now hold on just a—” started Rick.
“We find the resonating frequency of the nexus and shatter it, just like the wine glass,” Jesse interrupted.
“Piece of cake,” laughed Rust, his mouth full of Twinkie.
“Professor Venom, I see where you’re going—” Rick continued.
“I understand the band has recently come into the possession of a new backline and pa system?” Agostino smiled. “First, we will need to transport the equipment to my lab. There I can further demonstrate an experiment that my colleagues and I have been working on which seems quite promising.”
“Now wait just a minute, Professor.” Rick held his hands up in front of him, his voice raised. “We haven’t even paid off that gear yet. And now we’re just supposed to risk destroying it all over some fool’s errand?” asked Rick. “No offense.”
Agostino bowed his head.
“We have to do something,” said Jesse. He crossed his arms as he shot a stern glance at his brother. “All of you have seen what’s going on around here, even if you’re too afraid to admit it.”
Agostino continued despite the confrontation. “We can use the backline to create a dislocation—an amplified sonic pulse emitted at extremely high decibels, preferably something involving a sustained tritone.” Agostino rifled through his briefcase as he continued. “I was able to fabricate a prototype.”
“You want Hell Patrol to play a show down there in the mine?” asked Rust. “How the fuck are we gonna pull that off?”
“If my theory is correct, there is some probability of success, albeit a low one, but it needs to happen soon.”
“How long do we have?” asked Jesse.
“After tonight’s harvest, the visitors’ gateway will soon become powerful enough to allow for the passage of an entire hive legion. However, transferring that much energy from their captives will take some time. According to the energy signatures we are reading from the mine, we should have at least twenty-four, maybe forty-eight hours to destroy the nexus before the arrival of the hive legion.”
Rick wheeled back from the table and addressed the room. “Okay, I’ve heard enough. I’m calling a band meeting, right now.”
The three reunited members of Hell Patrol and their manager huddled in the corner of the room. “I’m just the manager of this outfit. It’s your call.” He nodded towards Agostino. “Do we call the white coats in from the asylum? Or just knock him out and leave him in the woods?”
The three band members looked to each other and then to Agostino, who brandished a handheld electrical device above his head. The apparatus consisted of an assortment of wires and cables that ran from a silver parabolic resonating dish mounted to an augmented rifle stock. Jesse recognized the familiar shape of the Sony Walkman that was duct taped to the butt of the stock.
He waived the gadget in the air and called out to the group. “I call it the ‘Hand of Doom.’”
Rick raised an eyebrow towards Jesse and shook his head.
“Quit being such a dick. You’re just as stubborn with your skepticism as those Jesus freaks are about their Bible,” Jesse said. “If even a fraction of this is true, it means there might be a chance to find Mal and bring her back. As long is there is a chance, no matter how small, I have to try. I don’t expect you guys to understand. It’s just something I have to do.”
Mazes and Rust exchanged a look of solidarity.
Rick shrugged, turning his chair towards Jesse. “Looks like we’re getting the band back together.”
Agostino passed the Hand of Doom to Jesse. “If anything not of this world gets in your way, switch on the device, aim, and pull the trigger.”
“All right, what do we do next?” asked Jesse. He held the strange contraption aloft, fearing it would go off in his hand.
Agostino tapped on his watch. “I have some final preparations to attend to.” He scribbled on a piece of paper and handed it to Jesse before picking up his belongings. “In the meantime, rest and prepare yourselves accordingly. Bring the gear to this address just after sun- down, tomorrow.”
Jesse held the note to the light. 8512 rte. 12 ne.
“Professor Venom, we’re going to need some roadies to help hump all that gear in and out of the mine,” Rick called out. “This is not a very desirable venue for the band that I represent. We’re gonna need a bankroll.”
“I suppose any help would be useful, but know that we will be putting anyone who ventures into the mine in mortal danger. My colleagues and I will cover any expenses you deem necessary.”
“I’ve got this.” Rick grabbed the phone off the kitchen wall and started dialing. “Rick the Prick is on the clock.”
“Only one problem,” said Rust. He flicked open the switchblade comb and ran it across his greasy curls. “We don’t have a van to move the gear since our guitar player quit the band, on account that he’s a fuckin’ square.”
4
After their meeting with Agostino, the three bandmates jumped back into the Civic and headed once more into town.
The streets were empty in the aftermath of the Community Cleansing, allowing the group to swiftly navigate through town. A squadron of police cars had surrounded the church parking lot, whose entrances had been taped off. Jesse stared at the flashing red-and-blue lights as they headed east towards the residential district.
As they arrived at their destination, Mazes parked the car a few houses up the street to avoid detection. They proceeded on foot, passing through the row of open backyards towards their former practice space.
Jesse picked up a hefty piece of mulch from a nearby flower bed and lobbed it up to Alex’s second-story window.
The bedroom lights flashed on and off.
A few moments later, Alex emerged from the side door that led out from the garage. “What are you guys doing? My parents will go apeshit if they see you here.” Alex looked over his shoulder as he whispered. “The whole town has gone crazy. They fucking stormed Camelot.”
“Yeah, we saw,” Jesse replied.
“Oh.” He looked down at his feet. “You guys were there? I guess I didn’t see you. My parents took me home right when the mob started up.”
“Alex, I know it feels like everything is falling apart,” Jesse started. “And trust me, we all feel it—”
“Somebody wanna give me a fucking smoke? I haven’t had one in like three days.”
Rust tapped out a cigarette from his soft pack.
Jesse lit the smoke and held the lighter up towards his face. “Look, man, we don’t have a lot of time. I know there’s a lot going on with your parents, and I can’t go into everything, but we need you for one last show.”
“After tonight?” Alex asked. “Are you fucking crazy?”
Rust shoved Alex back against the house. “You think you had a bad night? We’ve been chased by fuckin’ demons all over town.” Flecks of spittle flew from Rust’s lips as he spoke. “There’s more goin’ on than the free haircuts your bullshit church is givin’ out in between book burnings.”
Alex looke
d to Mazes and Jesse for explanation.
Mazes spoke first, stepping closer to Alex. “Master Rust’s words ring with the truth of clashing steel. A great evil walks the land.”
“We have to play a show at the mine,” said Jesse. “I know it sounds crazy, but it might be the only way to get Mal back.”
“Here we go.” Alex squinted through the dark. “How fucked up are you guys?”
“Stone-cold sober,” said Jesse.
“Mostly,” added Rust.
Alex shook his head. “Dude, I’m sorry, but Mal’s gone. She was probably the only smart one out of all of us. She saw what was happening in this town and got the fuck out.”
Before Jesse could stop himself, he had grabbed Alex by his shirt collar and was snarling into his face. “She didn’t leave. She was taken.”
Mazes intervened and separated the two.
“All right, look—long story short,” Rust said. “Professor Venom, your guidance counselor, thinks that the town is being overrun by demons. Except they’re not, like, Exorcist demons. They’re like, for real, Alien demons. And they have come to Earth to eat humans—their favorite food—because we are basically anxiety-filled Twinkies.”
Alex stepped back towards the house.
“Oh, okay. Why didn’t you say so in the first place?” He stomped out the cigarette as he continued. “Just gimme a second to tell my parents.” He proceeded to have a conversation through the open garage door. “Hey, mom? Dad? I have to go out and play a show in the old abandoned mine because the town is about to be eaten by demons.” He turned back to face the band. “Hey, guys, how long do you think it will take? An hour? Maybe two?”
“All right. We don’t have time for this shit,” said Jesse.
“What? Do you think I’m fucking insane?”
Rust threw up his hands. “We don’t think you’re insane. We just think you’re a fuckin’ asshole. You ditched your friends, and your band, right as we’re gettin’ off the fuckin’ ground. We’re supposed to be on tour with Prisoners of Flesh in less than three weeks, for fuck’s sake.” Rust took a breath and paced back and forth. “Jesus Christ, man, you’re almost eighteen years old. Why don’t you sack up and stand up for somethin’ for a change, instead of being the clone your small-minded parents are forcin’ you to be?”
“What do you want me to do about it, man? Drop out of school? Sleep in my cousin’s backyard, like you?”
“It’s a fuckin’ pop-up trailer, you little rich prick. I ain’t sleepin’ in the yard like a dog.”
“I guess the pop-up doesn’t have a shower, because from here, you sure as fuck smell like one.”
Rust pushed Alex against the wall again and made a fist. Mazes grabbed his arm and held it back.
Jesse motioned for Rust to back off. “Let’s go. It’s not worth it. We can’t change his mind if he’s already made it up. Maybe he’s not the person we thought we needed.” Jesse turned to walk towards the Civic. “The person we used to know.”
“You guys just think I got it so easy,” Alex squealed. “You don’t get it.”
Jesse turned on his heel and found himself standing nose to nose with Alex. “The Alex I knew wouldn’t have been forced into burning his prized tape collection, or cut his hair, or allowed himself to be taken out of the band that he loved—the thing we’d all worked so hard for.” Jesse tried to lower his voice as one of the downstairs lights came on. “And you know what sucks the most? We were actually pretty fucking good, and on our way to becoming even better.” Jesse shook his head and spit on the ground in front of him. “The Alex we knew is gone. I don’t even recognize this person. I just see a coward who doesn’t have anything left worth fighting for.”
Alex slumped to the ground and held his head in his hands.
“Forget this square. Let’s get the fuck out of here,” added Rust.
As the others left through the backyard, Mazes turned back towards Alex, and lowered his head. “I am most disappointed with your lack of honor, Master Alex.”
C H A P T E R E I G H T
THE FORGOTTEN ORDER
1
The following afternoon, Jesse found himself escorting his mother and Randy to the station wagon.
“Have fun at Aunt Nancy’s, and don’t worry about us, we’ll be fine,” Rick called out from the porch.
“We have a whole weekend planned,” Jesse added.
Rick grinned and gave a thumbs up to their parents. “Brother stuff— you know.”
Jesse’s mom stood next to the passenger-side door as Randy loaded a cooler into the back. “It’s just not like her to call out of the blue like this,” she said.
“She’s probably feeling sentimental since grandma and grandpa passed away. Making up for lost time and all,” Jesse said. “At least that’s how she sounded when she left the answering machine message.” He grinned sheepishly. “Before I accidentally erased it. Sorry.”
She stifled a follow-up to Jesse’s convenient explanation as she shifted her attention to the police helicopter that hovered overhead in the distance.
“I’m not sure it’s such a good idea to be leaving you guys alone here with all the crazy stuff going on in this town.” She pointed at the helicopter. “They still haven’t caught those protesters that assaulted all those people at the church.”
Rick and Jesse exchanged a wry look.
“Besides, shouldn’t we wait to talk to her just to be sure? It’s such a long drive.”
“Come on, Mom! You know better than to believe in the collective hallucinations of the religiously compromised.” Rick laughed. “It’s just another pathetic pr move put on by the church and their big money pmrc backers.” Rick waved his hands in the air wildly. “A little smoke and mirrors to stir the fear of God into the populace. What better way to line the pews, not to mention their pockets?”
“When he’s right, he’s right.” Jesse shrugged. He did his best to maintain a look of sincerity as his mother eyed the brothers warily. Clearly, she knew they were full of shit, but for all the wrong reasons. He hoped she would forgive him if the worst happened. At least they’ll be safe. “Besides, a weekend on the lake sounds like the perfect distraction.”
Randy climbed into the driver’s seat and pointed out the window towards his truck. “I marked Bessie’s odometer. If you so much as look at her while we’re gone, I’ll have you singin’ soprano alongside Pastor Roberts’s church choir.”
Pastor Roberts might be a little tied up at the moment, Jesse thought to himself.
“I just feel so weird showing up without talking to her,” his mother said. “Things haven’t been exactly easy between us since mom and dad passed.” She put her purse in the car and turned back towards the house. “Maybe I’ll just try her one more time to double check?”
Jesse groaned dramatically, conveniently ambling between his mom and the deck stairs. One stroke of luck had somehow managed to keep his aunt from answering a call from his mother earlier.
A second call would almost certainly compromise the plan.
“She said they were heading down to the dock for the day, and for you guys to just head straight in and join them.” Jesse waved her back into the car.
Rick chimed from the porch. “Besides, you guys deserve a break. You haven’t had any time to yourself since finishing up the house.”
His mother narrowed her eyes. “If I didn’t know better, I would swear you two were trying to get rid of us.”
Rick guffawed. “Of course we are. You’re the parents,” he said, offering a preemptive goodbye wave from the porch.
“We’re on a tight schedule,” Jesse said. “Lots of band stuff.”
Randy honked the horn.
Finally, his mother relented and got into the vehicle. “We’ll be back first thing Sunday. Until then I don’t want you guys to leave the house.”
“Don’t worry about us. We have it all under control,” Rick promised. “Enjoy yourselves.”
Jesse joined Rick on the porch as
they watched the tires on the great white wagon kick up the dust on the gravel drive.
“How pissed do you think she’s going to be when they find out Aunt Nancy never called?”
“Doesn’t matter,” Jesse spoke out of the corner of his mouth as he waved at his parents. “By that time they’ll be nearly four hours away from town and safe from what’s about to happen.”
2
“I think we missed the turn,” Rick said, navigating from Randy’s well-worn road atlas. “Should’ve taken a right back there.”
“Are we still on the road?” Jesse asked. He tried unsuccessfully to wipe off the layer of condensation that had formed on the interior windshield. “I can’t see shit out here.”