Midnight Rider

by D V Wolfe

  “Ok,” she said, and I could hear the no-nonsense Sunday-school teacher in her coming out. “We have a hell of a row to hoe ahead of us. Bane, what’s our timeline?”

  I shrugged. “Well Walter was predicting between midnight and three a.m. tonight, so,” I pulled the phone out of my pocket to look at the clock. “About eight hours before the festivities start?”

  Rosetta nodded. “Doesn’t give us a lot of time. What’s the plan?”

  “We make the pike and then I go after the demon and you all hit the road,” I said.

  Rosetta shook her head. “The real plan.”

  “That is the real plan,” I said. I looked from one cranky face to the next. “What? This isn’t your fight, any of you. I hunt alone and I’m not going to get you all killed by taking you in there with me.”

  “Plan rejected,” Rosetta said. “It’s not your call to make.” Rosetta looked around at the others. “Anyone here not have a dog in this fight?” No one moved. “Anyone feel like they don’t want to gank some demons tonight?” Not a single hand raised. Rosetta looked back at me. “Now, new plan involving all of us.”

  Everyone turned to look at me like I was some kind of leader. Whatever happened tonight, I was responsible for it. I’d looped them each into this plan in different ways. Now, I had to pay the consequences. I took a deep breath and tried to get my heart rate to even out.

  “Ok,” I said. “Tags, is the ‘God’s Tears’ elixir done?”

  Tags nodded. “For the most part. I need to add the holy water and have Rosetta spit in it.”

  “My pleasure,” Rosetta said.

  “We might need a refill on the holy water,” Stacks said. “I could only find the one flask of yours in the glove compartment, Bane.”

  Rosetta chuckled. “Well you know she doesn’t keep that stuff around much.”

  Noah asked, “Why?”

  I pursed my lips and cut my eyes to Rosetta. “It was hot out. I thought it was plain water.”

  “Blisters,” Rosetta said, “all over her throat.”

  “It seems that once you spend a lot of time downstairs, you become particularly sensitive to holy waters, sacraments, etc,” I said.

  Stacks’ head shot up. “Why didn’t the spices bother you when we were stuffing them in Festus’ face?”

  “Well I’m not a demon, Stacks,” I said. Not yet anyway.

  “And the hex bags and Holyroods at Rosetta’s?” Noah asked.

  I shook my head. “I didn’t try to eat them, so I was fine.”

  “Man, I wish I could have seen you all shoving that crap up Festus’ nose,” Rosetta said. She looked around her. “Speak of the devil, where is Festus?”

  I shook my head. “He’s gone. Not sure if he went off on his own, but right now, it’s looking more likely that someone took him.”

  I filled Tags, Rosetta, and by proxy Mick and Vince in on what had happened. They knew my situation, and they’d run into Festus before.

  “Shit,” Tags said. “Sister Smile’s gang is after you too? Bane, is there any hornet’s nest in this hemisphere you haven’t kicked?”

  I shrugged. “What can I say, I move fast. Anyway, the point is, we can’t rely on him for any more guidance.” I tried to clamp the lid down on the rush of panic I was feeling over where Festus might be right now and what that would mean for the job I had to do. There was a streak of concern there too. Festus could be an asshole, but he’d been on this journey with me for the last ten years and I guess I did consider him somewhere in the friend region. “So,” I continued, doing my best to back-burner my worry over Festus and clear my head. “That means we’re going to have to do a little scouting.”

  I turned back to Tags and Rosetta. “We’ll need to get you some holy water and do an all-around refill it sounds like, for all of us.” I looked over at Rosetta and Noah. “Rosetta, can you and Noah hit the nearest Catholic church and get a padre to whip you up some holy water?” Rosetta nodded. Noah moved closer to her.

  I looked at Tags. “You and Stacks work on getting the translation just right and the Cypress branch prepared with the spices and then when Noah and Rosetta get back with the holy water, will you have everything you need to finish?” Tags nodded and looked over at Stacks who had pulled the monks’ book out and was looking over a page.

  “We should,” Stacks said.

  Then I turned to look at Mick and Vince. “And the three of us will do some scouting to figure out the best way to get inside the building.” Vince and Mick nodded and their dog heads began transforming back into their human faces. “Ok, we’ll be back as soon as we can,” I said. Tags and Stacks turned to the workbench and I crossed to Lucy for the backpack I kept in Lucy’s toolbox.

  Rosetta and Noah approached me. “You know where the demon is?” Rosetta asked quietly.

  I nodded. “The Johnson Meredith building.”

  “What are they, demonic insurance agents?” Rosetta asked.

  I shrugged. “Guess it pays to have a day job in case the whole ‘world domination’ thing doesn’t work out.” I looked over at Vince and Mick who were standing around awkwardly watching Rosetta, Noah, and I.

  “Do they get,” Noah asked, looking over his shoulder at Vince and Mick. “You know, fleas?”

  “I don’t know,” I said. “Maybe you should ask them.”

  Noah’s face went pink and he looked at the ground.

  “Bane, can’t the demons sense you around? I mean, you’re being tracked by the great scoreboard downstairs anyway, aren’t you?” Rosetta asked.

  I shook my head. “I asked Festus about that once. He said that’s why they assigned an accountant to me. He’s supposed to track me. Apparently, because my circumstances were, well, unusual to say the least, Hell is not equipped to track a soul that’s let back topside on a work-release program, if they haven’t been turned into a demon. He has a boss that can somehow double-check his work with the count, but that’s it as far as I know.”

  Rosetta scratched her neck. “Well I guess that’s good news. Of course, if someone snatched Festus and they’re using him to locate you…”

  “All the more reason for me to get my butt out on the street,” I said, interrupting her. “And away from all of you so you can work in peace.” I looked at Noah. “Still, better safe than sorry. There’s a roll of salted tape in Lucy’s glove box and one in the toolbox, I think on the passenger side. Ask Stacks if you can’t find it. Run a line across the threshold of the man door and the sliding door when we leave. And double-check that the ten-gauge is loaded. I already checked the sawed-off.”

  “Wait,” Noah said. “You’re not taking it with you?”

  I shook my head. “Not on a scouting trip. I’m leaving Lucy here too.” I hiked the backpack up my back and tightened the straps before waving Mick and Vince over. “We’re going to take the bus,” I said when they stopped beside me.

  Mick and Vince shook their heads. “We’re not taking the bus, Bane,” Vince said. “We’ll drive.”

  I raised an eyebrow. “Aren’t you driving that souped-up, yellow Jeep with monster truck tires and the senorita painted on the tailgate?”

  Mick nodded proudly but Vince seemed to catch my point.

  “Not real stealthy, I guess,” Vince said.

  I shook my head. “Frankly, I’m ashamed you caught up with me.” I looked over at Noah. “Let’s pull their Jeep in here too. And Rosetta, let’s pull your Caddie in.”

  In about five minutes, all three vehicles were parked in the warehouse bay. I helped Noah re-secure the doors and turned to look at the little fleet of cars.

  “We’re not a subtle bunch, are we,” I said to Noah.

  Noah pushed some of his orange frizz behind his ears and scratched his nose, leaving a smudge of grease from the tracks of the sliding doors behind.

  “Well, maybe you all drive what makes you happy,” he said. I turned to look at him. He walked over to Lucy and opened her toolbox behind the passenger side and started digging around. �
��I mean, you all do these crappy jobs, killing evil stuff all the time. You don’t sleep, you hardly eat and everyone else in the world is clueless that this shit is even going on. Maybe your cars and trucks are what makes you remember that you still have a say in something. Even if it’s just what you drive. Or whatever. I dunno. They’re a part of you, that still makes you...you. You know?” He looked up to see me looking at him and his face went red. “Damn it, you know what I mean Bane, right? I mean, it would creep me out to see you driving like a silver Honda Accord or something.” I couldn’t help myself. I hugged the kid. It wasn’t really voluntary. “That was awkward,” Noah said when I took a step back.

  “Yeah, sorry,” I said, trying to keep my tone light. “It’s just...it would creep me out too.”

  Ten minutes later, Vince, Mick, and I stepped outside the warehouse and quickly cut across Commercial and down a back alley. The plan was to look like tourists walking around the square by the Johnson Meredith building. We’d find somewhere to do lookout from, check the building entrances, and then figure out the best plan of attack.

  We cut down side streets and alleys until we were out on a busier street, where we caught a westbound bus. We stood at the back. I felt naked without the sawed-off. But I knew from experience that taking public transportation while carrying is a very, very bad idea. Inevitably, something bad will happen and the local fuzz will be called in. Besides, this was only a scouting trip. At least, I hoped it would be. The bus stopped on Washington Street and three men in black suits and trench coats got on. I could tell by the awkward way they were standing and hesitantly grabbing the bar to hold on, that this was the first day in a long time, that they’d worn a meat suit. I glanced out at the bus stop and saw it was in front of a Starbucks. Down the alley next to the building, I could see a small residential area. I elbowed Vince behind me.

  “What?” he whispered. I turned to lock eyes with him and then tilted my head towards the men who’d just boarded the bus. I followed his gaze back to the men and watched as one of them turned a full three hundred and sixty degrees, trying to get comfortable with standing and holding on. The regular bus patrons were taking turns looking disapprovingly at them. One of the men had his fly down and his shirttail was poking through the opening.

  “Well, that’s a dead giveaway,” Vince muttered to me. I nodded and the three of us slowly moved to the back of the bus, away from the men. We used newly boarded bus patrons to camouflage us as the bus made more stops. “Did you see where they got on?” Vince asked, leaning in.

  The group of people in front of us moved and got off the bus. We were momentarily exposed but a seat had opened up next to us and I dragged them into it, hiding us behind a couple of gangly teenagers.

  “Yeah, Starbucks on Washington,” I said.

  “Our stop is next,” Vince said. “What do you want to do?”

  “We’re going to stay right here and see where they get off,” I said.

  It wasn’t a long wait. Sure enough, the next stop was right in front of the Johnson Meredith building and the three men got off the bus, the last one tripping over his wingtip shoes as he climbed down the stairs. We got off at the next stop and retraced the bus route but on the opposite side of the street.

  There was a big parking garage, across the street from the Johnson Meredith building, and we walked the levels until we were just beneath the roof. We found a recessed area that was in shadow from the overhang and unpacked our gear.

  “I don’t know what I was expecting,” I said, pulling out my binoculars and turning to look at the building. “I guess I thought with all those demons there would be Ghostbuster clouds around it.”

  “Yeah, kinda disappointing,” Vince said, holding his own pair up to his eyes.

  I scanned the windows. The first four floors were dark. “I guess it’s not weird that there’s no activity. It is after five,” I said.

  Vince shook his head. “I dunno, in a business like this, surely somebody works past five. That’s kind of weird that everyone’s gone by,” he checked his watch. “5:05.”

  I scanned the fifth floor and saw there was soft light on in the third window, coming from behind the curtains. I started to scan the sixth floor. Pay dirt.

  “The guy with his fly down is standing in one of the windows on the sixth floor,” I said.

  “Is his fly still down?” Mick asked.

  I shook my head. “That’s your burning question, Mick?” I scanned to the right and saw something that made me freeze.

  “Bane is that….?” Vince started beside me.

  “Uh-huh,” I said.

  “What?” Mick asked. “What is it?” He took the binoculars from Vince and started looking around.

  “Sixth floor, fourth window from the right,” I said.

  Mick stopped moving and just stared his mouth open. “Is that the fucking sigil of sulfur?”

  I nodded. “In blood. Tradition says, in an enemy’s blood.” The sigil was on an inner wall, lit by track lighting. Probably were some piece of artwork had hung before. A nasty memory was surfacing in my subconscious. “Well I think we found the right place,” I said. “That will be where Ber-... our beauty queen, will be hanging out.”

  “Yeah?” Vince said, turning to look at me. “How do you know?”

  “Downstairs, the big muckety-mucks would have symbols on their….office doors. You know, like a status thing. I was in the upper layer so I didn’t see the really bad mo-fos. But the head demon on our layer used the snake eating its own tail infinity thing.”

  “And you think that one,” Mick nodded at the building. “Is for our guy?”

  I shrugged. “Or another heavy hitter. Either way, I think we found the place.”

  “Well, now what?” Mick asked.

  I raised my binoculars again. “It looks like the building is eight stories, there’s probably roof access.” I glanced down at the street. “We’ll need to circle it to see access points at ground level and…”

  There was a ding from the parking garage elevator. I froze and looked at Mick and Vince.

  We grabbed our bags and all but dove into the stairwell. Vince and Mick crept half a floor down to stay out of sight around the landing and I hugged the wall. For a second, I caught a sidelong view of two men in black coats exiting the elevator.

  “Why can’t the asshole go get his own dinner if he’s so ‘all-powerful’?” One of the men asked.

  “Ok,” the other answered him. “I’m going to give you exactly three minutes to bitch and then you’re going to shut up about this.”

  “Well friggin’ A! If he’s such a big-deal, Personal Assistant, sorry, valet, in the high court, can’t he manage a little massacre for his dinner? I mean we weren’t sent up here to be delivery boys.”

  “You want to go back and tell him this isn’t what you signed up for? Have him rip your head off like he did that other demon? Do a little finger painting with your arterial spray?”

  “No, I…..” The first one began but the second one put a hand out to stop him.

  “What?” the first one asked.

  The second one lowered his voice. “Do you smell that?” There was silence.

  “Yeah, like there’s something up here that shouldn’t be.”

  Fuck. I wish I’d brought some kind of weapon. I did a mental inventory of my bag. Binoculars, lock pick set, some loose change, maybe a stale Peep or two from many jobs back. Nothing to help if they came into the stairwell.