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The Raven Flies At Night

Page 4

by Janine R Pestel


  “That waitress smiled,” said Robert, as he glanced at Johann.

  “No, that was a fake smile. She wasn't happy. I mean, come on, she gave me that note to help her, for Christ sake. How happy could she be?”

  Robert made a gesture with his eyes, and nodded in agreement, then turned to peer out his window once more.

  “We've only been here a few hours, and already we've heard about one suicide and witnessed another,” Johann said, “This town is in bad shape. We need to find the demon causing this and destroy it, fast.”

  A few blocks up the road, the two men came upon what was obviously the tallest building in the town. The six-story monster they viewed from the restaurant. It stood amidst the smaller buildings in the area, most of which had no more than two stories, and only a minor few had three floors.

  They got close enough to read the brightly lit sign, which was encased in a beige stucco pedestal, and it proclaimed the establishment as being “The Tower Inn.” Johann turned into the parking lot and parked at the office.

  The two exited the car and surveyed the lot. For being a building with the capacity to hold so many people, the parking lot contained but a few cars. The demon hunters counted no more than ten, and that included theirs. They thought, for sure, there would be more cars.

  “Well,” said Johann, “It's either not a real popular place, or everyone is out site seeing.” Robert nodded in agreement.

  They entered the lobby and found the place to be, perhaps, a little upscale for the area. Perhaps that was why the parking lot contained so few cars.

  The lobby, large and ornate, had been furnished with several chairs and sofas arranged in a circular shape. In front of the chairs and sofas sat long tables with magazines and potted plants on them. The main color scheme of red and gold stood out everywhere.

  The two approached the desk and, with the emptiness of the parking lot, were not surprised to find the staff consisted of only two people on duty. One of the two, a young man in his early twenties, turned to greet them.

  “Welcome to 'The Tower,' ” he said. He displayed what appeared to Johann and Robert to be a forced smile. Something they had come to expect in this town.

  “We'd like a room with two beds for the night, please,” Johann said, as he maintained eye contact with the clerk. This was Johann's way of studying someone. He was trying to determine if any mind control could be at work here. The hotel clerk casually broke eye contact. Without blinking, he glanced at his computer.

  “Certainly, sir. Would you like a view?”

  “We would.”

  “I can put you on the fifth floor,” the young man said, as he turned to gaze at Johann, “Would that do?”

  “That would be fine. We're not sure how long we'll be staying, so let's make it for two days, and if we need it to be longer, we'll let you know.”

  “Of course, sir,” The clerk was almost robotic in his responses.

  The young man typed in their information, while Johann and Robert studied the room. Behind the young hotel clerk, hanging on the wall, was a plaque with the same logo they saw everywhere today. Johann and Robert glanced at each other.

  “Excuse me,” Johann said, “What is that plaque?” He pointed at the elegant piece of varnished wood, with the gold, inscribed plate. The young man glanced at it, then turned to Johann.

  “Oh, that's the logo of our parent company. ER Enterprises. Mister Earl owns it. He's a very wealthy man who-,”

  “We know who he is,” Johann said, as he interrupted the young man, “We met him at the Food and Fuel.”

  “Of course,” the hotel clerk said, weakly, then continued the process of checking the two men into their room.

  -4-

  Shortly after checking in, and bringing all their baggage into their room, Johann and Robert decided to relax for a while to unwind from the events which had transpired so far.

  Their room on the 5th floor of the tallest building in town had a nice view of the area. As they peered down, the town of Mountainview sprawled out before them and almost magically disappeared into the mountains in the distance. From up here, the town appeared so peaceful and serene. One was almost hard-pressed to realize the trouble which reared its ugly head.

  Not a city, but not as small a town as Bucktown, where they had recently come from, and where Robert was born and raised. The two stood on the balcony and studied the area. Silently, they contemplated the colors of the rooftops below, as they mingled with the trees, which had already started to transform into their autumn colors. Robert thought to himself how the scene would have made a wonderful jigsaw puzzle.

  “Well, it's not quite a city,” said Johann, “But this must be like being in the big city for you.” He lightly poked Robert in the side.

  “Yeah,” the small-town coroner said, almost whimsically, “It is.”

  The two men leaned on the balcony wall and surveyed the town. Even though the town appeared to be a peaceful place, and quite picturesque with the mountains in the background, the two found the circumstances gave them little reason to smile.

  The feeling of doom and despair was almost overwhelming. Since Johann and Robert arrived in town, one almost dreaded doing anything. Now, the effects of the area started to weigh on them, and neither wanted to say anything about their feelings to the other.

  “Fuck,” Johann said, quite loud. Robert, startled, stared at his companion.

  “What's wrong? What happened,” asked Robert.

  Johann turned and gazed at Robert, almost as though he leered at him. Robert detected a slight twitch in Johann's eye. This concerned him. He began to wonder if Johann might be coming down with an illness. Perhaps something happened, which made him extremely angry.

  “Are you alright,” he asked, while he studied Johann, who quickly turned away.

  “Yeah. I'll be alright,” Johann answered. He walked back into the room, and Robert followed.

  “This whole town is, I don't know, depressing or something. It's frickin' creepin' me out,” said Johann

  “Well, yeah. Wasn't that why we came here,” asked Robert. Johann gazed at him for a moment.

  Both men walked to the chairs and sat down.

  “I didn't tell you this,” said Johann, “I think mainly because I'm kind of ashamed of it -,”

  “Ashamed? What is there to be ashamed of,” Robert said.

  “In case you haven't noticed, I'm a little impulsive,” Johann said.

  “Oh, no. I didn't notice that at all,” Robert said, sarcastically. Johann glanced at him.

  “Well, I was like that even when I was a priest. After Theresa disappeared, there would be times when I would be in the middle of a sermon or something, and all of a sudden, something would remind me of what happened to her, and I would just lose it. There were times I used, shall we say, 'colorful,' language at the altar,” Johann said, “Not something that I'm proud of.”

  Robert gazed at him for a moment, then had to start holding back chuckles. He could only imagine what it was like for Johann as a priest when he tried to give a sermon and got too emotional.

  “You don't mean -,” Robert said.

  “Yes. The diocese got tired of having to apologize, and come up with plausible reasons for my, uh, 'actions' for lack of a better word.” Johann looked at Robert, and a small smile crossed his lips, “The final straw came when I did my last wedding. Instead of asking the groom if he promised to 'love, honor, and obey,' the thought of Theresa being taken by that bastard popped into my head, and I asked him if he promised to 'love, honor, and fuck.”

  “You're kidding,” Robert said. He tried, unsuccessfully, not to laugh.

  “Yeah. That went over really big. The bride's mother fainted when the groom mindlessly answered, 'Hell yeah.' So, now you know the real reason why I left the priesthood. I mean, I thought about it anyway, because that son of a bitch took Theresa, but after that wedding, I didn't have a choice anymore. They told me to leave.”

  “Is there anything else I sh
ould be aware of,” asked Robert. Johann thought a moment.

  “No. I think I pretty much told you everything now. Theresa being taken by that bastard. My dad being killed in an accident when I was a kid. How he left all that money in trust for me when I turned twenty-one. Thank God, he did. Being a priest isn't exactly a high paying job, and it costs money to travel all over the country, and fight these bastards.”

  Johann got up from his chair and turned on the television.

  “Let's find a news channel,” he said. After doing a little channel surfing, Johann happened to come upon a news channel with his favorite two newscasters - Simon and Belinda.

  “I watch these guys all the time,” Johann said, “They led me to what was happening in Bucktown. Come to think of it; they turned me on to several cases,”

  The two took in the news broadcast for a while. They hoped something about the situation in Mountainview would come up. They didn't wait long.

  “We now go to Mountainview, where Belinda has some rather disturbing news,” said Simon, “Belinda-,” The shot changed to a video of the fire at the gas station. The shot focused in on Father Gunter with the victim.

  “Hey, that's-,” Robert said.

  “Shush,” Johann said, as he interrupted his friend.

  “This was the scene about two hours ago, Simon,” Belinda said, “Witnesses said a patron at this gas station poured gasoline all over himself, and the surrounding area, before lighting the gasoline, and himself, on fire. No one knew who the stranger was who tried to save his life, but the priest here in town, Father Nelson, said the man must have been sent by the angels. He said if the man sees this broadcast, to please come to the rectory at Saint Paul's so Father Nelson could thank him, personally.”

  “We understand that this was actually the second apparent suicide today, is that right, Belinda,” asked Simon.

  “That is correct, Simon. Early this morning, Peter Johnson, a local investment banker, was found by his wife in the game room in their home. He was dead. The victim of an apparent self-inflicted gunshot wound to his head, and now this man, Alexander Quinton, a deacon at Saint Paul's, is dead from burns.

  “Do the police know if the two cases are connected in any way?”

  “They do not, Simon. They did tell me, however, that these two are among many in the last several months. Evidently, there seems to be almost an epidemic of suicide cases here, and nobody knows why.”

  “That's very sad. Well, keep us informed, if you uncover anything else.”

  “I will, Simon. Back to you at the station.”

  “So,” said Robert, “You're sent by the angels. I can agree with that.”

  “Hmm,” said Johann, as he stroked his mustache in thought, “Maybe we should go find this Father Nelson. Not that I want a pat on the back, but I do like having the local priest on my side when I'm about to engage a demon.”

  Johann walked to the closet and took out his satchel, laid it on the bed, and opened it. He took his flask out and stuffed the small metal container in his pants pocket, then closed, and returned the suitcase to the closet.

  “Think we're going to find the beast that fast,” asked Robert.

  “No,” answered Johann, “But, I do need to refill this thing. So, since we're going to Saint Paul's, now's as good a time as any, right?”

  They made their way to the elevator. The two couldn't help but notice; the floor was almost vacant. Not many voices came from any of the rooms. They thought it odd that such a huge motel would be so empty.

  They boarded the elevator. When Johann pushed the button for the lobby, something caught his eye. He examined the buttons on the elevator wall. How did he miss this? The button for the sixth floor was a key slot. This indicated to him that one could not go to the sixth floor by the press of a button. One must possess the key.

  “Odd,” Johann said, as he rubbed the keyhole with his index finger, “I didn't see that when we were in here on the way up. I wonder why you need a key?”

  “It could be reserved for special guests,” Robert said, as he also examined the oddity. Johann glanced at him but didn't continue the conversation.

  The elevator reached the ground floor, and the doors opened. When they exited the car, Johann and Robert's attention went to the man standing at the counter, in conversation with the clerks. They were quick to recognize Mister Earl. The two stepped out of the elevator, and Mister Earl turned to face them.

  “Gentlemen,” he said, his hands outstretched in a welcoming gesture, “Welcome to my motel. I trust everything in your room is to your liking?” He walked toward Johann and Robert, and they walked toward him. They met about halfway to the counter and the front door.

  “Everything is fine, Mister…,” Johann said, “Earl, I believe?”

  “Why yes. But you can just call me Earl,” the man said, “And if you experience any problems whatsoever, you be sure to let me know. I have a lot of influence in this town.”

  “We'll do that - uh - Earl,” Johann said, “You wouldn't, by any chance, know how to get to Saint Paul's, would you?” Earl's smile faded, just a little, at the question, but he regained his composure. Johann instinctively took note of his reaction.

  “I'm sorry. I do not. I'm not Catholic. But, I'm sure one of my clerks could help you with that.”

  “Well, I guess I'll ask them, then,” said Johann.

  “Fine, fine. Have a good day and do enjoy our little village,” Earl said, before he left the two, and headed for the elevator. Johann and Robert studied him as he boarded the elevator, and the doors closed.

  “I bet, he's not Catholic,” said Johann, “Did you see that reaction?” He glanced at Robert, who shrugged his shoulders and made a facial gesture. The two turned and walked over to the counter.

  The young man who checked them in earlier walked over to them.

  “Yes,” he said, “Can I help you?”

  “Yes. We need directions to Saint Paul's,” asked Johann. The clerk's eyes almost lit up.

  “I recognize you, now,” he said, excitement in his voice, “You're the man who was on the news. You tried to save Mister Quinton, rest his soul. I would be happy to tell you how to get there. Exit the parking lot and go right. At the third traffic light, which is Spring Street, make a left and Saint Paul's is about a half mile down on the right side of the street.”

  “Thank you,” Johann said. He and Robert turned and exited through the glass front doors into the parking lot.

  Immediately after they exited the building, Johann and Robert became aware of something peculiar. The parking area had become filled with dozens of Ravens. The two men stopped in their tracks, and looked around, puzzled by this happenstance.

  They glanced around the area and saw Ravens everywhere. On the ground, in the air, on cars… everywhere. So much noise came from the birds, in fact, it was almost deafening. One Raven, in particular, gained Robert's attention, as it feasted on some carrion. An unfortunate little rodent that had not been fast enough to evade the car that ran him over, and crushed his little body into the asphalt.

  The black bird stopped eating for a moment and turned its head with a menacing gaze at the intruders. Robert and the avian made eye contact for a moment. Robert shuddered slightly, as an uncomfortable twinge washed over him. For a moment, he saw in his mind's eye a cross, shattered on the ground. He broke eye contact with the bird and glanced at Johann.

  Johann nodded his head toward the car, and the two men began to carefully make their way through the avian infested parking lot to the vehicle. All the while, and unknown to them, someone high up in the building had taken a deep interest in the two. A pair of eyes peered out a window and took much delight in the current plight of the two demon hunters.

  After what seemed to be a long walk, the two men reached Johann's car and got in. As he started the vehicle, he turned on his windshield wipers to force a Raven, which sat on his hood near the windshield, to fly away. He turned to Robert.

  “This is messed up,” h
e said.

  “It ranks up there on the 'weird-o-meter,' ” Robert said.

  “Is it me, or does it seem like this whole damned town is depressed or something,” Johann asked.

  “You feel it, too,” responded Robert, “I thought it might've just been me because I gave up smoking.”

  “No. I feel it, too. Wherever this demon is, it has a stranglehold on this town,” Johann said, “It wants to kill everybody, and we have to stop it.” The eyes in the building followed them, as they pulled out of the parking lot, and onto the main road.

  Again, they studied the people they passed on the street and made note that everyone appeared to be carrying a heavy weight on their shoulders. Few people smiled or talked to one another. Even the people in cars were, somehow, detached from each other.

  “Spring Street,” Robert said, “The same street that waitress lives on. Maybe while we're on our way to the church, we can find her place so that we can stop by there later.” Johann nodded in agreement.

  They reached the third traffic light, which for them, was red. While they waited for the light to turn green, a person on the corner caught Johann's attention. He turned to study the man, who appeared to be perhaps in his thirties. Unshaven, and with an unclean appearance, it was obvious to everyone the street was his home.

  He wore tattered clothes and pushed a shopping cart. Johann thought he had surely stolen it from a local grocery store. The cart contained a myriad of items, which were all his worldly possessions. It struck Johann as being sad. In a town so prosperous, there would be an individual who appeared homeless, and the people ignored him. He studied the man and the reaction of the people who passed him on the sidewalk.

  Most of the people only gazed at the man in disgust, and gave him a wide berth, while others displayed almost sympathetic expressions. The man looked up and gazed at Johann and Robert. Almost as though he found them repulsive. Johann momentarily broke his gaze from the miscreant. He didn't want to give the man the impression he was impolitely staring.

 

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