Then Hell Followed (Journeyman Book 5)

by Golden Czermak

  Thompson pulled the mic back, unsure of how to reply professionally.

  “Regardless, you were saved? And who was this heroic soul?” he asked, looking around as if to seek them out for an interview.

  “If she fucking says ‘Gage Crosse’ I will vomit,” Dajjal sneered.

  “He didn't tell me his full name,” Margaret replied. “Went by some kind of nickname; ‘Hammer’ I think. Although… he did mention that he was a journeyman of some kind.”

  “A journeyman?” repeated the reporter – much to Dajjal’s chagrin. “Did he mention what kind of handyman or trade? I assume with a nickname like that he was a builder?”

  Margaret shook her head.

  “No idea, but that sledgehammer he carried was formidable.”

  The demon grimaced, wishing a lesser would walk into the room to satiate his mounting bloodlust. The interview continued and Dajjal grew more irritated. He grabbed a glass of crimson liquid perched in the corner, muting the audio with disgust.

  “Fuck you, Margaret,” he said after clearing his throat and raising the glass to toast, “and you too, Thompson. Before the end, I'll see to it that your entire planet burns. Cheerio…”

  With that he took a large and messy gulp, so fast that it ran into down his neck into the water, staining it red as it continued to swirl.

  JUST OVER TWO weeks had whisked by in a whirlwind of nonstop meetings, exchanges, and examinations. Gage Crosse and Marcus Sheridan had brought in the new year with disappointing news. Not only was their teammate Joey Mosley still in a supernatural coma, but the both of them had returned from their journey to Jötunheim without the fifth treasure in hand, necessary to stop the demons from opening a doorway to Hell.

  How quickly consensus amongst the Order shifted from the applause of heroics to the finger pointing of blame, many now claiming that too much leeway had been granted to the reckless Gage and his band of miscreant Journeymen.

  There were those with closer ties to the reality of the situation, such as Councilor Jane Carter and the other humans on the Council, who had different views than the masses. They were adamant that Gage and his team represented the best the Order had to offer, especially with darkness fast approaching. After all, the Journeymen wouldn’t even have the four relics they did now, nor any idea of their existence, had it not been for Mr. Crosse. It was due to that plain truth, coupled with the supporting voices of non-humans like Councilor Quileth and Om Citta, that immediate action to ground the team was avoided.

  All was good if not shaky for a couple of days, even after an emboldened Dajjal had openly attacked Warminster. However, as he continued assaulting different parts of the world, sentiments once again became strained.

  Gage ignored the hate as much as he could, instead focusing on what needed to be done to stop the Infernal Tide. He believed that with the grand demon’s ego pegged on high, the pain-in-the-ass was victorious in obtaining the Crown of Immortality from the king of the frost giants, Thrym, all the while keeping it out of Botis’ clutches. Indeed, if Dajjal had the Crown, the other two were likely dead – the only silver lining around an otherwise malicious storm cloud.

  The time for action had finally come and the trio – Gage, Adrienne, and Marcus – had assembled in Joey’s hospital room.

  There was a little less wind in their sails, Gage having become a bit entitled due to their success at beating the demons at their own game. Though he would never admit it, Dajjal’s recent achievement in getting one of the artifacts before him had cracked his confidence.

  He couldn’t let those feelings get in the way; none of them could. No matter how good or bad they felt about things, another unwanted adventure awaited. The Odyssey was due to depart for France later that evening, scheduled for an early morning arrival in Rennes-le-Château.

  Marcus grew uncomfortable, having stood for what seemed like forever, walking over to a chair close to the hospital bed; there was a slight limp evident in his step. Sitting down with his back to the door, he reached for Joey’s hand, closing his own around it.

  Gage stepped up behind and rested one of his large arms on the back of the chair.

  “I know I've asked damn near a billion times, my man, but how are ya holding up?”

  “I'm okay,” Marcus replied, cultivating a wholly convincing tone given the tremendous amounts of bullshit they'd all gone through. “I just can't believe it's already time to hit the road again.”

  Gage sighed, sputtering at the same time.

  “Yeah, no kidding. Kind of feels like we've been at this nonstop for the past few months. Oh wait, we have. Shit, this last week was a fucking marathon with the all the crucifyin’. I about had to show Robinson the front part of my fist for doubting Ady’s testimonials.”

  “Yeah, that guy’s definitely an asshole; he's been around here since dirt. You know what amazes me more than anything, G? How many of the Order simply forgot what you’ve done,” Marcus grunted. “What all of us have done in fact, since it's convenient for their own agendas.”

  “That’s field work talkin’ to ya. It gives a different perspective on things for sure. Kinda like working for the big corporate machine versus yourself – the only agenda ya have to worry about is your own.” Gage gave Marcus a hard look, studying him. “By the way, I'm impressed by how well you're holding up. Honestly, I don't see how you've done it; I feel like my tank is barely making it on fumes.”

  “I never said mine wasn’t,” Marcus replied. “I just feel that we have to do this, to the very end. Different roads of different lengths for all of us to travel, even when we’re running on empty.”

  Gage smiled, still impressed.

  “I like that phrase. Damn Marcus, you've grown so much from that prim and proper guy we first met at…”

  “Tatum’s,” he responded.

  “Yeah that’s it,” Gage continued. “I mean, I can't even remember the last time I saw a newsboy cap on ya.”

  “Don't worry,” Marcus said brightly, “they're still in my quarters; all twelve of them.”

  In addition to all that personal growth, Marcus had already showed signs of recovery when they first made it back to HQ, evidenced by the immediate verbal sparring match with his brother Ty in that very room. Considering how close to death Marcus was when he and Gage left the other realm, that alone was an impressive feat. Now, just a couple weeks later, he'd been given clearance by Dr. Ross to go on this mission. Not to demean Marcus in any way, Gage had no doubt that decision was also encouraged by some hefty ‘deliberating’ from both Sheridan brothers.

  “Well boys,” came Adrienne’s voice as she approached. “I for one know that you’ll make it to the end. There’s way too much hot air between the both of you.”

  They all exchanged laughs before Ady found herself regarding Joey’s face, which was at peace.

  “I swear he looks like he’s sleeping,” she observed. “Nothing new there I guess.”

  “Yeah, the lazy fucker,” Gage replied with a slight break in his voice. “We’ve all gotta be sure to give him extra work once he’s back on his feet.”

  Adrienne grabbed hold of Joey’s right hand; it felt odd with a missing pinky and ring finger. That was something she was unsure of ever getting used to, but one way of looking at it was that it meant he was still alive.

  “You remember the clearing, Gage?”

  “Which one?”

  “The last one in Houston, silly,” Adrienne said with an eye roll. “The one where you supposedly fell in love with me.”

  “Oh that one,” Gage said sheepishly, nodding toward Marcus, who caught it with a smirk. “Yeah, I remember.”

  Adrienne shifted her attention back toward Joey’s face, gently caressing his beard. It felt soft, like it had been conditioned. “We would’ve been screwed had J not come up with those UV headsets. Especially with that primal.”

  “Light ‘em up!” Marcus added with an easy chuckle. “That’s the phrase that turned them on, right? Joey told me all about them; to sa
y he was proud is an understatement.”

  “Haha, that was the phrase alright,” Gage answered. “Ya know, I always loved to see that genius brain of his at work… and to play with the shit he would create. I could never have come up with the things he did. There was this one thing in the workshop, looked just like a mini missile launcher. I wonder what he was gonna make with that.”

  “You should ask him when we get him back; it was something that he brought back to the Odyssey when we were at the ruins of the Lodge.” Marcus continued, dipping his head down. “You know… Joey wasn’t just proud of the gear he made, but of you two as well. Not just a little bit, either. It was literally beyond measure and I think that’s what helped me to get acquainted with the group so quickly. His love for you shined through, even in these dark times.”

  Adrienne felt a tear flow down her face, letting it fall to the blanket below.

  “I… had no idea that’s how he felt.”

  “Me either,” Gage replied. “I mean, I knew that we were family and there were some major ups and downs along the way, but…”

  “It’s true,” Marcus said. “All of it. We need him back, and I think that all of this has shown me that I also have family issues I need to resolve.”

  “Ty…” Gage said just before his phone started beeping.

  Adrienne looked over with apprehension on her face.

  “That’s not another weird phone call, is it?” she asked.

  Gage raised his eyebrow at her.

  “Ya know, I haven’t had any ghost calls since we replaced this sucker. A real big shame though, ‘cause I was really looking forward to hearing from a real lady of the night…”

  Ady groaned.

  “Really Gage? Just waiting all this time to crack that gem out, were you?” she asked prior to giving Joey’s hair a quick pass through with her fingers.

  “Ya asked, darlin’,” he responded. “But seriously, that was my alarm; it’s time for us to head over to Front Street. Om’s wanting to meet before we head out. Plus, me and the future Mrs. Crosse have a lunch date.”

  Marcus peered over his shoulder with a slim smile.

  “I don’t know if I can get used to how that sounds.”

  “Me neither,” Ady said as she walked over toward Gage.

  “Say hey to Om for me,” Marcus requested, “and be sure to brace him for all my questions on the two other airships. I hear the Iliad is pretty much complete, waiting to launch while they’re fixing a few glitches that crept up last minute in the Homer’s weapon system.”

  “How’d you already know…” Ady started to ask, realizing who she was talking to.

  Marcus tipped his head with a wink before cutting her off.

  “You know me, always on top of things.”

  “I got ya covered, brother,” Gage said, ushering Ady from the room. “And Marcus, take your time, okay? We’ll see ya onboard later.”

  Gage and Adrienne had left the room, the door closing behind with a gentle click before all fell into a welcomed silence.

  Marcus breathed in a massive lungful of air, its sterile smell of bleach undercut with antiseptics slightly burning. Nevertheless, he breathed out slowly, savoring the action if not the sensation.

  “I’m going to get out of here soon, baby,” Marcus told Joey as he rubbed his arm. “I have to help Ty transfer his gear from HQ over to the ship before we head out to France. He has us heading to a small commune in France to get something that should cure your condition.”

  Joey laid there unmoving and completely quiet.

  “Goddammit, I would give anything to hear your voice right now,” Marcus cried. “Even if it was just asking for more orange juice.”

  Expectedly, there was still no response.

  “Joey,” Marcus continued. “I promise you that no matter what, I am going to make sure you get out of that bed and stand again on your own two feet. Mark my words… no matter what.”

  The door creaked its way open, so quietly that Marcus didn't notice.

  It was Ty, arriving to talk with Marcus about moving his things for the trip. Upon seeing his brother there with him, decided to give them a few more minutes before breaking up the sentimental moment.

  Marcus shuffled in his seat and leaning over, whispered some very personal things in Joey’s ear. He wasn't even sure he could hear him, but sniffing loudly, he wiped his nose and eyes just in case all these emotions were getting the better of him. Once he had cleaned himself up, Marcus swept his eyes across Joey’s body.

  The necklace he had given him was dangling around his neck, the wooden cross laid casually to the side displaying the ward on its back. Grabbing it in his rough fingers, Marcus noticed that a chunk was missing from one corner.

  What’s this? Marcus remembered Joey asking him as he rubbed his thumb across the indention.

  First and foremost, consider it a gift from me … a symbol of my love for you, J.

  Marcus sniffled again, nearly losing himself as Joey’s thank you resounded through memory.

  “Dammit!” he cried.

  Oh, don't you dare… Marcus’ own words scolded. You said yourself that you can't live in constant fear of what might be.

  “Right,” he said loud enough to reach Ty’s ears. “I need to focus on this mission so we can continue enjoying our friendship, bond, and love for each other all in the limited time we have…”

  Ty was genuinely warmed to see his brother had finally found someone to pour himself into as much as he used to do his paperwork. Of course the irony of the situation was the fact that Joey was dying. Ty sighed heavily, struggling with whether to tell Marcus now or later about what he learned about the grail. Heeding his brother’s own words in enjoying limited time spent together, Ty decided it best to wait.

  Raising a hand, he gently knocked on the door, speaking softly.

  “Hey Marcus, it’s me. Just wanted to see if you were ready to help take things across to the Odyssey?”

  THE ODYSSEY FLOATED effortlessly above Front Street where she was always berthed, her graceful sixteenth century lines hidden from the public by means of illusionary magic. Inside the navigation room, perched at her highest point aft, an hour long meeting was coming to a close.

  “They should be ready to join the crusade in the next few days,” said a soft and pleasant voice. It belonged to Om Citta, walking across an ornate rug on his four legs while handing Gage a tumbler filled with liquor.

  “Marcus will be glad to hear that,” Gage replied, taking the drink. “Brace yourself though, he has a ton of questions planned for the trip overseas. Everything from the ship’s specifications to the texture of the toilet paper no doubt.”

  Om actually laughed.

  “Oh, I know exactly how Mr. Sheridan is.”

  Gage shook his cup, the ice clinking against the sides before taking a sip. His lips drew back.

  “Damn, that'll damn put some hair on your chest. Ady, never take a sip of this.”

  Om carried on smiling, but she didn’t reply. With business done, Adrienne had already checked out of the conversation and with her own glass of water in hand, she was taking in the cluttered room and all of its oddities. Om had apparently been busy collecting more artifacts on his recent trips, stuffing the already bowing shelves with even more valuables.

  She paused as her gaze met a small, golden box that had been shoved in a corner. It seemed to call out to her, wanting to be opened… She didn’t want to disappoint it, planning to do just that…

  Gage cocked a brow, knowing that look.

  “Ady…” As she rose, Gage’s voice cut through her hypnotic desires and she groggily slumped back into her armchair. “Hey, darlin’ can ya hear me?”

  Om looked over to it as well, adjusting his spectral goggles.

  “My apologies Adrienne. I suppose I've had that in here for so long I no longer pay attention to its voices.”

  “What is it?” Adrienne asked, ever the inquisitive one. She felt a slight headache coming on but noth
ing too overbearing.

  “A box full of evils,” Om answered ominously, not revealing any further details. “It must never be opened.”

  “But…” Ady began guardedly, “if that’s the case, why is it stored here on the ship? In your room no less. Would it not be better protected in one of the Vaults?”

  Om’s eyes expanded as he answered without delay.

  “You only need to look back five years to see how effective the Order’s Vaults can be. After all, George Thurston was able to access them and that lead to the Incursion. No matter the object or where it’s kept, if someone desires a thing greatly enough, then they will do anything to obtain it.”

  Those words rang true to Ady; she had been seeing something similar happening.

  “I have to say that I am a little worried about Marcus for that very reason. You’ve known him for longer than we have, Om, is he going to be okay?”

  Om crumpled his face, removing his goggles. He set them on a small end table.

  “I must say the way things have come to pass, especially with Joey, has me gravely concerned.”

  Gage strummed his fingers on the arm rest.

  “How so?”

  “What has happened to Mr. Mosely will stay with him forever. Nothing will be the same once he wakes up.” Om swirled his drink and took a long gulp.

  “He’s gonna be fine,” Gage replied. “He has to be.”

  Om grumbled.

  “That is the reality of it Gage; you know that I am not lying. There is a different feeling in the very air, threatening and dark. Night is approaching and Dajjal will soon ensure the demonic hammer stroke falls and the Earth alongside it. Given the desperation, I am worried too about what lengths Marcus will go to in order to save the thing he cherishes the most.”

  “Joey you mean,” Gage replied, shaking his head. “We are all doin’ our best to save him.”

  Om shook his head back.

  “Not just Joey, Gage, but the love Marcus has for him. You as well as anyone know that the heart will do things at times that the mind would rather not.”

  Gage couldn’t disagree with that, guzzling the rest of his drink.