* * *
For the second time in one night, Dread regained consciousness and opened his eyes. A human was bending over him, weaving back and forth.
It slurred, “What the hell are you, anyway?”—then fell over backwards, landing on its rump.
Dread sat up and regarded the human. It was sitting there on the ground looking a little dazed.
“What the hell are you, anyway?” it repeated.
Dread stood up, then reached down and grabbed the human by the neck. He picked it up and held it in front of him, inspecting its soul while it screeched and flailed its arms trying to get away. He decided he didn’t want this one. It was okay, far better than what he was used to, but it had a few stains and some gray streaks on it. The souls he’d smelled before were pure. Those were the ones he wanted. He dropped the human and raised his head, sniffing. Ah, there they were, off to the right, and much closer than before.
The human had scrambled away on its hands and knees, cussing and screaming. Dread ignored it and strode off in the direction of the pure soul scent. As he passed the crappy old pickup, he could hear the human yelling something through the rolled up window. It didn’t sound happy.
THIRTY-EIGHT
TO EVERYONE’S RELIEF, after the TV went off the fit lasted for only thirty seconds or so, and with nothing interesting going on, the maintenance demons flopped down on the rec room floor and went to sleep. Quackrak still sat in the wooden rocking chair rocking back and forth and stewing.
Patty had stayed over while Amanda was at dinner with Jack, Melanie and Simmons. She and Jilly were on the floor playing Scrabble. Claudia, hopelessly addicted to coffee, had just come down from the kitchen with a fresh mug. She settled back in an old recliner.
“What d’ya bet your moms talked those boys into going dancing after dinner?”
“Boys?” Jilly wrinkled her nose without looking up from her game. “They’re not boys. They’re old, Anta.”
Claudia laughed. “Yep, maybe even forty. Old and gray.”
Jilly looked up, frowning. “Nooo, I just mean, you know. They’re like…just too old to dance and stuff.”
Patty wore a quizzical expression. “I’ve never seen my mom dance. Do you think they did? I mean go dancing, really?”
Claudia took a sip from her mug. She smiled, reflecting idly.
“I remember when she was your age—your mom, I mean—right here in the basement, with Karol and his friends.” She glanced at Jilly. “Melanie, too—all of ’em just dancin’ their little hearts out.
“Eeuw…that’s creepy!” Patty shivered.
Claudia laughed again. “Why?”
“I don’t know…just is.”
Something heavy slammed hard against the outside door. Patty and Jilly jumped, squealing, both crabbing frantically backwards across the floor to Claudia’s chair.
The door shook from another jolting impact.
“Anta,” screeched Jilly, huddling at Claudia’s knees. She and Patty clung to each other, terrified.
“Quiet!” demanded Claudia, her arms around the girl’s shoulders, protectively.
“Be quiet!—Be still!”
Jilly whimpered, “Anta, what—”
“Shush!” Claudia whispered.
Quackrak sprang from the rocker, reaching the door in a few surprisingly fast bounds. He looked angry, pounding the door with his fist and quacking furiously at whatever was on the other side. He obviously knew what it was. The commotion had awakened the other demons. They were jumping up and down, quacking their heads off.
Through the din, Claudia could only catch a little of what Quackrak was unconscientiously projecting. It sounded astonishingly like, “…better get your ass back where…” She didn’t want to wait around to find out what that meant. She stood, dragging the girls up with her.
“Stairs,” she said, not taking her eyes off Quackrak and the door, “…up the stairs. Now!”
The three of them bolted across the room and clambered up the stairs. At the top, Claudia pushed the girls through the kitchen door, following them and slamming the door behind her. She herded them to the small dinette, grabbed them each by the arm, and sat them down forcefully.
“Stay!” she commanded. Then, seeing they were almost in shock, she knelt down, took each by the hand, and said in a soothing voice, “It’s okay. Trust Anta, all right?”
Then, very deliberately, “You know I won’t let anything happen to you, right?”
The words had the desired effect. The girls calmed slightly, reason peeking through the fear on their faces. They did know they were safe with Anta…still…
“…w-w-what’s out there, Anta,” stuttered Jilly, more confident now but still scared.
“I don’t know,” Claudia admitted. “But whatever it is,” she smiled, trying to lighten things up, “we can always just zap it, right?”
Jilly and Patty both laughed nervously, each suddenly remembering they weren’t entirely defenseless.
“Right, …zap it,” Jilly stammered, not sure what zapping entailed, but it sounded good.
THIRTY-NINE
AUBREY CRUMB AWOKE for the second time. The first time, she’d been roused by what sounded like some guy hollering and screaming down in the street outside, but when she got up and stumbled to the window all she’d seen was crazy Joe Paul’s crappy old pickup tearing through the intersection at the Boulevard and disappearing up Stillman Road. She figured she must have dreamed the hollering and screaming part.
This time, it sounded like somebody banging on something. Probably dreaming that too, she thought, drifting back to sleep.
Nope, there it was again…louder.
What, the…
Aubrey turned over and looked at the clock on the dresser. It was after one o’clock in the morning. She got out of bed, padded to her second-story bedroom window and looked out, again. Nothing…the bridge off to her right, the side of Louis’s store across the street, the intersection off to her left…deserted, just like it was supposed to be at one o’clock in the morning.
She turned from the window, walked out of the bedroom and through the hall and into the front guest room. From the windows of the guest room she could look down on Meljac Lane. All seemed quiet in that direction too, though there were lights on in the Meljac and Clark houses across the way.
The phone in the living room downstairs rang. Aubrey scowled: people hollering, pickup trucks and things banging, phones ringing and what-have-you …at one o’clock in the morning!
She left the guest room, went through the hall and down the stairs, not bothering to turn on any lights. She’d lived in the house all her life, and could navigate its rooms and halls blindfolded.
The dim yellow glow from the street lamp out front shone through the big bay window of the living room. Aubrey shuffled across the worn carpet and flopped down on the couch. She reached over the arm of the couch to the end table and picked up the phone.
Before she finished saying the word, “Hello,” Sarah’s voice screamed through the receiver.
“Aubrey! I’ve lost them! I’ve lost—”
“Wha—?” Aubrey started to ask.
“My powers!” Sarah’s voice sounded frantic.
“Aubrey, I’ve lost my powers!”
Aubrey leaned back on the couch, sighing skeptically, wondering how much her sister had had to drink.
From the phone, Sarah’s voice pleaded, “Aubrey, are you there?”
Aubrey sighed again, sat up slowly, and said, “Okay, Sarah. Calm down. You haven’t lost your powers. That doesn’t happen. Just tell me what’s going on.”
Sarah spoke fast, sputtering, “I was levitating over the bed…just playing around—”
“Bed?” barked Aubrey. “What were you…slow down. I can’t understand—”
“…and I just…just suddenly, I just fell right on top of Harry. I almost broke his—”
Aubrey barked again, “Why were you levitating over Harry? What are you doin
g down there, Sarah?”
Sarah took a deep breath, then answered coolly, an edge to her voice, “I’m doing what we agreed…whatever it takes to bring him…damn it, Aubrey, that’s not the point. Didn’t you hear what I said? My powers! I fell right out of the air.”
The picture popped into Aubrey’s mind: Sarah, hanging over Harry’s bed…falling…
In spite of her usual sanctimony, she chuckled, then surprised herself by asking, with an uncharacteristic grin, “…uh, what did you almost break, Sarah?”
The phone was silent for a few seconds, then from Sarah, angrily, “Was that supposed to be a joke?”
Aubrey couldn’t resist. She chuckled again. “Well, you said you almost broke his—”
“Aubrey, listen to me, will you? I tried other things; simple things. They’re gone. I can’t do anything.”
Aubrey, more serious now, said, “Wait a minute.” She put the phone down on the end table, got up and walked to the bay window. She looked outside at the street lamp.
Off, she thought at the light.
It stayed on.
FORTY
THAT’S JUST GREAT, thought Dread. He could hear Quackrak, the world’s biggest tattletale, jabbering his creepy little head off on the other side of the door. The freaky little runt probably couldn’t wait to run and tell Lucy that Dread was out of Underworld.
In his haste to get to the deliciously clean souls, Dread had forgotten all about the freaks. Now, he could hear them inside the house going berserk, as they usually did when he was around.
In answer to Quackrak’s rather rudely put demand to get his ass back to Underworld, he yelled through the thick wooden door, “I would if I could, dummy. But I don’t know how.”
Quackrak yelled back, “If you hadn’t been messing around in Lucy’s office you wouldn’t be here in the first place.”
“I wasn’t in Lucy’s office,” Dread lied.
“Liar!” accused Quackrak through the door.
Dread shouted back, “Oh yeah? How about I bust this door down and kick your ass?”
It was an empty threat. Quackrak, despite his size, was mean as the dickens when aroused, and Dread had no desire to tangle with him. Of course, neither of them could actually hurt the other, but the loser would never live it down—literally, never.
Before Quackrak had a chance to call his bluff, Dread bellowed at the door, “Anyway, so what? It’s none of your business you little troll. You’re not the boss.”
“Yes I am,” Quackrak hollered. “Now that Lucy’s gone, I am the boss. So there!”
Dread frowned. What was the freak talking about? Lucy gone? What did that mean?
The latch on the door rattled and the door swung open. Quackrak stood there defiantly looking up at Dread.
The little demon railed at him, “You can’t come in here. You gotta go hide someplace.”
“Why,” growled Dread.
“’Cause you’re ugly as sin. You look just like people think a demon is supposed to look. You’ll get ’em all riled up, and cause trouble for all of us. Get outta here!”
Dread snorted. “You, callin’ me ugly? Ever look in a mirror, you little ghoul?”
Quackrak snorted right back. “At least I don’t look like a poster for a horror movie!”
“Oh yeah?” Dread was livid, but he couldn’t think of anything really good to say.
“Oh yeah?” he repeated, blustering.
Quackrak sensed he had the upper hand.
“Hey!” he exclaimed, the coincidence suddenly occurring to him. It was obvious how Dread had gotten out of Hell; the big clod had been after ice cream again, and had stumbled through the portal. But what was he doing here, at this particular house?
“What are you doing here?”
“None of you’re business.” Dread brushed off the question. “What d’ya mean, you’re the boss?”
Quackrak looked surprised. “What? You mean you don’t even know?”
“Know what?” Dread was getting nervous. The little freak looked too confident.
“Lucifer quit, and he left me in charge.” Quackrak smiled, wickedly, “I’m the devil, now!”
“No way!” stormed Dread.
“Okay, Maybe not the devil,” Quackrak relented. “But he did leave me in charge, so…well, that’s it. I’m in charge.”
“For how long?” asked Dread.
“Forever,” said Quackrak, smugly.
Dread was unconvinced. “You got any witnesses?”
“Yep, right behind me.” Quackrak gestured over his shoulder at the maintenance demons who were vigorously nodding their heads up and down in agreement.
Dread opened his mouth to protest, then stopped, puzzled. Quackrak was hopping up and down excitedly jabbing his finger, pointing at something behind Dread.
The little demon babbled, “Now you’re in for it. You’re gonna get it, now!”
Something hit Dread from the side hard enough to knock him to the ground. He tried to get up and run, but he couldn’t move.
FORTY-ONE
SINCE THEY’D BEEN DRINKING at the restaurant, Jack was being extra careful.
“It’s a wonder we got home at all,” Amanda teased, “with old lady Harris here, driving,”
“Yeah, right,” the big cop protested, not taking his eyes off the road. “I can see the headlines now—Local Cop Jailed For Speeding Drunkenly Through The Mountains.”
“Then, you shoulda’ let me drive,” grinned Amanda.
“Good God!” Melanie gulped from the back seat. “I’d walk home, first. You ever been in the car with Amanda driving?—not enough valium in the world!”
“Hey,” Amanda huffed. “I’m a good driver!” Then, over her shoulder at Simmons, “Don’t listen to these two, John. They hate me ’cause I’m younger than they are.”
“She is not,” muttered Melanie.
They had just come across the bridge and had reached the corner of Stillman Road and Brandell Boulevard. Instead of turning left onto Meljac Lane, Jack turned right onto the Boulevard and pulled up in front of Walker’s Drug Store where Simmons had left his car.
Jack said, “How about I just dump you girls off here? You don’t mind walking home alone in the dark, do you?”
He forced a disinterested yawn and waited for a reaction. He expected a pinch, or something, from Amanda. He got it.
“Ouch! Okay, okay, we’ll walk you home,” he said with a laugh.
Amanda leaned over, kissed him on the cheek and smiled at him warmly. “That’s more like it.” She kissed his cheek again, lightly. “But you know what? I feel so good, and it’s so beautiful out, I want to walk home alone in the dark.”
From the back seat, Melanie said, “She means so we can talk about you guys before we get home,” then added, glancing over the back of the seat, “No, really, the houses are right there”—referring to the other side of the intersection.
“We’ll just walk across…” She lowered her head in a slight pout. “…the dangerous intersection,” A mischievous grin beginning on her face. “…in the black of night.” The grin widened. “…with lord knows what lurking in the shadows.”
In the seat beside her, Simmons laughed out loud, and Melanie giggled like a schoolgirl.
Goodbye Lucifer Page 28