Battle of the Soul

by Carl Alves

  Andy had a warm, almost giddy feeling as he drove to his apartment in his crappy rental car. Spending the day with Kate and then eating dinner with her and Holly had been a blast. Although he had known them only for a few days, he loved them both. A feeling of shame swept over him when he thought about how he had abandoned Kate and fled their house. He didn't care what circle of hell he had to travel to and what badass demons he had to face, he was going to save that little girl.

  He didn't fool himself into thinking it would be easy, but there had to be a way.

  He was singing along to the radio when he crossed the Walt Whitman Bridge into Philadelphia. Holly had offered to put him up again for the night, but he had not been home since those bastards tried to run him off the road. He wanted to make sure his dump of an apartment was still intact. If his Russian slumlord didn't make repairs soon, the place was going to fall apart. Maybe he should relocate. Somewhere around Hammonton, New Jersey sounded like a good idea so he could be near Holly and Kate.

  Over the last couple of days, he hadn't drunk alcohol or gambled, his normal vices. If he had their presence in his life, he could go down the straight and narrow. He was fully aware that a beautiful woman like Holly would never be attracted to a guy like him. She was stratospheres above his level, but maybe she could grow to love him, especially if he showed how committed he was to helping her little girl. He already had Kate's unending affection. They had bonded instantly. Maybe he could be the father figure she needed.

  Andy shook his head. He was getting way ahead of himself.

  His mind filled with images of the demons he encountered in Kate's soul. He kept replaying their clash, trying to see if they had any vulnerability he could exploit, but he couldn't find any. The three major demons individually were a great challenge for him but together they could crush him. Then there was the super badass demon that made him feel like a ninety-pound weakling.

  The best thing would be to get a good night’s sleep and talk to Monsignor Curran in the morning. If they put their heads together, they could figure something out.

  He drove down his street, parked in front of his apartment and killed the engine. A shower and a change of clothes sounded heavenly.

  He turned on the hallway lights leading to the first floor of his duplex. A skanky Russian chick he thought might be a prostitute lived on the second floor. She never bothered him, and he never bothered her.

  He fumbled for his keys and unlocked the door. Just as he was about to enter, something smashed the back of his head, and he fell forward. He crashed onto the carpet of his living room. He tried to process what had just happened, but everything was hazy. He grabbed a floor lamp to steady himself, but it toppled onto him.

  Someone yanked him by the back of his hair and pulled him to his feet.

  He groaned.

  The man put a gun to his mouth. "You say a word, and your brains are going to be splattered all over this cheap carpet."

  The room stopped spinning. The last time he’d been attacked at his apartment, it had been Cesar, his bookie's henchman. Cesar's voice had been like a low rumble. This man's voice was not nearly as deep. Wonderful, now he had two dudes who thought nothing of beating his ass when he went home. He really needed a change of address.

  Andy grabbed the top of his head and felt blood.

  “You’ve been causing problems and pissing the wrong people off. They tell me you’re something special, but I don’t see it.”

  Andy turned to get a look at him and gasped. It was one of the guys who had smashed up his Mustang and chased him. This was the big guy with the graying hair. He had a beard and mustache. The thing that stood out, what Andy remembered clearly, was the guy’s narrow, shifty eyes. He looked like a schemer, someone always trying to get an edge on everyone. Andy couldn’t believe that after everything he had been through, this bastard was going to kill him.

  Andy ignored his captor’s warning and spoke. He was never one to follow rules and had no reason to start now. “Who are you, and what do you want?”

  The man smacked him with the butt of his gun, causing Andy to grunt in pain. “Never you mind that. The only thing that matters is that I’m here to kill you.”

  “Why? I haven’t done anything to you. I don’t even know you.”

  The man smirked. “I have nothing against you. There are bigger forces at work calling the shots. You pissed them off. I’m carrying out a job for them. You ready to die, punk?”

  He thought about Kate. He couldn’t die yet. He had to help her. “Of course I’m not ready to die, asshole.”

  The man chuckled. “Well, unfortunately, you don’t have any say in the matter. You’re going to die regardless.”

  Andy gritted his teeth. “You asshole.”

  “What did you say?”

  Andy would not go down like a wilted flower. “You're an asshole.”

  The man gave Andy a backhand slap that made his head spin. He got in Andy’s face. “I’m going to enjoy seeing you die.”

  Andy spat blood. His face throbbed. There’s no way this guy was going to kill him. There was just no way.

  “Get on your knees,” the man said.

  Andy did not move.

  He grabbed Andy by the back of his hair and kicked out his leg, causing him to crumple. “I said get on your knees.”

  “Why, so you can shoot me?”

  “Of course so I can shoot you. What do you think, we’re making cookies?”

  Andy got on his knees, trying to think of a way out of this. If he was Jack Bauer from 24, he would spin around, unarm this dude, and beat the hell out of him. But he wasn’t Jack Bauer, and this wasn’t the spirit world.

  “Don’t do this,” Andy said. “I haven’t done anything to you.”

  “You’re a threat to everything we stand for.”

  “What are you talking about?” Why did everything have to be so complicated? First, there was the clusterfuck that was Kate’s soul, and now this. A few days ago, life had been much simpler. He got called in for an exorcism, whipped a demon’s ass, had a few beers, watched sports on TV, and called it a day. He longed for that simple life.

  The man chuckled. “Never you mind. Hey, I’m a benevolent guy. I’ll give you a few moments to make peace with your God before I put a bullet in your brain.”

  “You’re all heart.” Andy muttered under his breath, “Asshole.”

  Andy didn’t want to make peace with God. He had enough credit for the afterlife with all the demons he had exorcised. He needed to a way out of this mess. “Don’t do this. You need help, you know, the spiritual kind. I know priests. They can help you. There’s no need to go down this path. You’ll regret it for the rest of your life.”

  The man gave a deep belly laugh. “You know, kid, you’re funny. You won’t be the first person I killed, and I sure as hell don’t need your spiritual help.”

  So much for that idea. If talking wasn’t going to work, then he would have to fight. He lowered his head and pretended to cry.

  The man kicked him in the ribs. “Keep quiet and die like a man.”

  Andy lunged and rammed his shoulder into his captor’s midsection.

  The man gasped and fell to the floor. His gun flew from his hand.

  Andy landed on top of him, trying to reach the gun before this thug got it. He punched the man in the face twice. On his third punch, the man grabbed his fist. He was far stronger than Andy. He twisted Andy’s wrist backward, causing him to yelp, then thrust Andy off him.

  The man leaped to his feet and slugged him on the chin. Andy’s head snapped, and he hit the floor. Not sure if he momentarily blacked out, the next thing he saw was the man hovering over him, gun in hand.

  He kicked Andy over and over to the ribs. Andy tried to cover up, but after a few kicks, he curled into a ball, the pain excruciating. He thanked the Lord when the kicking stopped. It was a brief respite in the final moments of his life.

  The man spoke through gritted teeth. “I was trying to be nice,
letting you make peace with your God. I figured it would be important to you. Now, I’m going to have to kill you.”

  Andy cried. This time his tears were genuine, not for the loss of his own life, but because Kate would be left all alone. With him dead, no one could help her.

  The man put his gun to Andy’s head.

  Andy closed his eyes and waited for the bullet.

  A sharp whoosh sounded, then a heavy weight fell on top of him. Blood sprayed the carpet and walls. Numb from his impending doom, Andy was incapable of processing what just happened. It took a few moments to realize his executioner had toppled over him. Andy had not received a fateful bullet, but his executioner had.

  Andy shoved his assassin off him. A moment later, a strong hand pulled him to his feet.

  “You okay?”

  Andy blinked a few times, trying to figure out who this guy was.

  The man held his shoulders and gazed into his eyes. “Are you okay? Answer me, son.”

  “Uh, yeah. I guess.” Andy groaned, his ribs still throbbing.

  “Are you injured?”

  Andy nodded. “I think so.”

  The man sat Andy on his sofa. “Stay here. I have to secure the perimeter and neutralize any other threats.”

  Andy took a good look at his savior. The man had close-cropped red hair. He wore black pants, a black shirt, and a dark jacket. He had a strong, lean body. His face looked fierce, and he had intelligent eyes. This was one dude Andy wouldn’t mess with. He was one hundred percent badass.

  Andy shook his head. “No way, bro. You’re not leaving me behind.”

  The man glanced at the door and nodded. “Okay, stay close behind me and stay out of my way.”

  “Sure thing.”

  Andy needed answers, not to mention that if there were other people trying to kill him, this man could protect him.

  The guy held his gun as they walked forward. The pistol had a silencer, which explained why there had been little noise from shooting the gun.

  They walked down the steps of his duplex. Following the man's lead, Andy tried to be as quiet as possible.

  When they exited the duplex, the man pulled out what looked like a pair of binoculars, put them to his eyes, and scanned the area.

  "What are those?"

  "Night vision goggles. Stop asking questions."

  Andy was about to ask him what he was looking for, but thought better of it. This dude might turn around and give him a backhand to keep him quiet.

  They walked outside in the damp grass. Andy's breathing was labored from his damaged ribs.

  When they approached a corner of the building leading to Andy's tiny backyard, the commando guy put his hand to Andy's chest. He then put his finger to his lips and held out his palm, gestures Andy interpreted to mean that he should remain here and keep quiet.

  Before Andy could blink, the commando guy disappeared into the night. Andy felt like he was in an action movie, except these weren't actors, and if something went wrong, he was likely to get his head shot off.

  He peeked around the corner but couldn't see anything. He ducked back and clutched his ribs. He would be thankful if that was the only injury he suffered tonight.

  A muffled groan followed a popping sound.

  Andy kept still and waited in agonizing silence. He couldn't stop his hands from shaking and his heart from thumping. He had to calm down or he was going to have a heart attack.

  He looked at his watch. How long had it been since the commando guy left? He didn't want to be left alone.

  He tensed at the sound of something brushing against the grass. He wasn't sure if he should flee. A moment later, the guy who saved him was carrying a man on his shoulder.

  "What's going on?" Andy asked.

  "Inside," the man said.

  Andy followed him up the stairs leading to his apartment. "Who's this guy?" Blood covered the man’s shirt. "Is he…"

  The commando guy nodded. "Yeah, he's dead. There's no one else out there. Inside. Now."

  Feeling numb, Andy followed him.

  The man dumped the corpse next to Andy's executioner. He then took out a phone and placed a call. "Ezekiel here. We need a clean up at the location…There were only two. I need a disposal and a complete scrubbing…I don't think the action has been discovered…see you in ten." He clicked off the phone.

  "All right, who the hell are you, and what's going on?" Andy asked.

  "The name's Lucas; code name Ezekiel. As for your other question, I think the answer should be obvious. I just eliminated two men who were trying to kill you."

  Andy took a step back. He should show gratitude since this guy saved him from a death sentence. "Yeah, well thank you. I appreciate it. But who are these guys, and why were they trying to kill me? And how did you know they would be here?"

  Lucas pursed his lips. Andy could sense he was annoyed with all these questions, but he needed answers.

  Lucas bent over and tore the shirt of the man who had put a gun to his head. He pointed at a small tattoo on his chest. "You see this?"

  Andy recognized the star inside of the circle as a pentagram. A closer look revealed a goat within the pentagram. "What's that?"

  "It's a satanic symbol. His name is Dan Cooper. I’ve got a think file on him. He’s a former marine. At some point in his misguided life, he stopped working for Uncle Sam and began working for the dark side. Literally. He's part of a group called Legion. They're an underground Satanic organization whose mission is to promote chaos and anarchy, be a thorn in the side of the Church, and further Satan's mission on Earth."

  Andy frowned. "Really? Never heard of anything like that."

  "I wouldn't expect you to. When I say they're underground, I mean deep, deep underground, yet they find ways to infest corporations, government organizations, and the like. They have passive members who use their influence to promote the group's work. Cooper is one of their henchmen. He also peddles heavy influence in the pharmaceutical and medical device industries. That’s his public corporate face, but in reality, he’s a stone-cold killer." Lucas motioned with his thumb to the man he had killed outside. "I don't know who his buddy is, but I'm guessing he's also a card-carrying member of Legion." Lucas tore the guy's shirt, but there was no goat in a pentagram tattoo. He turned him over. The man had the same tattoo under his lower, left shoulder blade. "They targeted you for assassination. Fortunately, I intercepted them."

  "That's crazy. Why would they want to kill me?"

  Lucas stared at him with ice-cold blue eyes. "Isn't it obvious?"

  Andy shook his head.

  "I spoke with Monsignor Curran before I got this assignment."

  "You did?"

  Lucas nodded. "He informed me of your abilities as an exorcist and the recent difficulties you've been having. Your monsignor is a sharp man. He impressed upon me the gravity and immediacy of your situation. I got here just in time."

  Andy sat on the sofa. "Damn. I guess you both saved my ass. Thanks."

  "That's what I'm here for. I've been given the assignment of protecting you. You go nowhere without me until this situation is resolved. Understand?"

  "Well, I don't need a sidekick."

  Lucas's face tightened. "I'm not your sidekick. I'm here to ensure that no harm comes to you."

  Staring at the floor, Andy tried to come to grips with the two dead bodies in his living room.

  Lucas took out his phone, made another call, and left the room, leaving Andy alone with the corpses.

  Maybe killing people was no big deal to Lucas, but Andy felt ill. He went to the kitchen, reached into his refrigerator, and popped open a can of Busch and drank it. He needed some hard stuff. There was bound to be some whiskey in the house. Rifling through the cabinets, he found a mostly empty bottle of Jack Daniels.

  He poured the Jack into a coffee mug, hoping Lucas would return. He didn't know the man, didn't particularly like him, but felt vulnerable without his icy presence. Lucas seemed sure the threat of these Satanic
assholes was gone, but what if there were more out there?

  Lucas returned. "How are your ribs?"

  This guy was cold. He didn't seem at all phased by the two corpses.

  Andy winced. "It hurts."

  "Lift up your shirt."

  Andy struggled to lift his shirt. He had dark blue marks on his skin.

  "They looked bruised. I don't think they're broken.”

  Andy scowled. "How do you know? Are you a doctor along with being GI Joe?"

  "No, I'm not a doctor, but I've had my own ribs broken. We can go to the hospital later to get them checked out."

  Andy shrugged. "I'll live, which is more than I can say about these two dudes. How come it doesn't bother you that you just killed two people?"

  "I had to do that to protect you. Your life means a hell of a lot more to me than two members of Legion."

  "I didn't know you cared."

  Lucas grinned for a moment, but it quickly faded. "I've been told you're a very important person. I'm supposed to protect you like you're the Pope, and I intend to do so."

  Lucas walked toward the front window and peered outside. "My team has arrived. We're going to make ourselves scarce in a couple of minutes. These guys are highly trained professionals. They know what they're doing."

  "What exactly are they going to do?"

  "They're going to clean up this place. Any evidence of what occurred here will be removed. Before long, there will be no evidence that two people died here."

  "What about my neighbors?"

  Lucas's face reflected intense concentration. This guy was all business. "I took caution so that nobody would have seen or heard me. Hopefully, nobody noticed anything out of the ordinary, at least not enough for them to get suspicious. If they do, then we'll cross that bridge when we get there."

  "What are you going to do, shoot them?"

  Lucas stared at him with a straight face. "No."

  Andy felt numb and wanted this nightmare to end. If these guys were professionals, then he was more than happy to let them do their thing. "So what are you going to do?"

  "Like I said, I'm here to protect you. Stay put. I'll be back in a few minutes after I brief them on the situation."

  Andy raised his hands. "Whatever you say, dude."