Then Hell Followed (Journeyman Book 5)

by Golden Czermak

  “Well shit,” Henry said to everyone’s surprise. “I guess we’re left with fewer options than a werewolf trying to shift on a moonless night.”

  Adrienne managed a small smile, getting up to walk around. Gage walked over to her and rubbed her shoulders; she looked weary to him, much more than he thought she should. With Marcus about to have an aneurism over the entire episode, Gage felt like he was the only one of the team keeping things together at that point. That was saying something, especially with his own mental brawls against the Devil’s Ire which was relentlessly trying to take control of him.

  “Okay, so for my own sanity,” Gage said directly to Ty, “can ya tell me one more time what has to be done? This is all so much information to process and I just want to be sure I have everything straight.”

  Ty replied with a nod, replacing his glasses before he began.

  “Henry and I were finally able to formulate the antidote. It seems we were looking in the wrong place; for the longest time searching for known potions that would counteract poisons. There was a reference in one obscure text Henry had pulled out from the library. It talked about the Grail and some kind of healing elixir that could be placed in it.”

  “Following a trail that stemmed from there,” Henry inserted, “we hopped through books and texts and notes until stumbling on a very common list of ingredients. From that list, the antidote was actually fairly simple to brew; almost too easy wouldn’t you agree Ty?”

  “Yes,” Ty resumed. “I would have thought it much more difficult and time consuming to make for something so legendary. That’s where the great irony of fundamental magic comes into play. By itself, this ‘elixir’ is useless; nothing more than a chunky soup of gross constituents. However, once placed into the Grail, the cup’s powers change it through some kind of alchemical process. Now we haven’t tried it, so aren’t sure what the results of that would be, but that’s not the kicker. I was able to put two and two together, realizing that being base magic, there is always something needed to ignite the spell.” He exhaled profoundly, not wanting to repeat this again. “Part of the transmuted solution must be drunk by the one to be cured, or at least put in their mouth, then the rest by another. The price that must be paid? That other person must give their life in order for the cure to be activated, their life force being the spark.”

  The room went quiet again, even Ty’s eyes misty.

  “Well, I think I’d be right to say we all need to think about this,” Gage said. “Plus we need to include the Council before making any decisions of this magnitude. I’m not sure how we are gonna come up with a solution to this guys… this ain’t easy is the slightest.”

  “Now do you see why I’m so upset?” Marcus snapped.

  “We all are,” Gage assuaged. “I ain’t any happy about it by any means. All I know right now is that I need a damn drink, out of a regular old glass cup. Y’all know if there’s a bar open?”

  “Yes,” Ty said, looking to Adrienne. “We know a spot that’s just down the street.”

  “Good,” Gage said. “Let’s go.”

  Marcus watched as Gage and Adrienne headed toward the door, Ty heading over to Henry’s side. He started to collect his things, listening while he did.

  “The Grail’s secured on the Odyssey with my other possessions,” Ty told Henry in a low voice. “Can you make sure the antidote is put away? I can’t thank you for what you’ve helped me with. If ever you need something to do other than work in this sterile lab, feel free to give me a call.”

  “I certainly will Tyler,” Henry replied. “And thank you; it’s been an honor and a pleasure. It seems that kindness abounds in the Sheridan family.”

  “I like to think so. Marcus, care to join us?” Ty asked, resuming his normal pitch. “The first round is on me. Heck, maybe even the second.”

  “For sure,” Marcus replied politely. “I have to ask Henry a couple of things really quick, but can catch you all in the entry hall? Shouldn’t take more than five minutes.”

  Ty nodded, glad to see this side of his brother.

  “Okay then, we’ll be waiting for you.”

  As they left and the door slid closed, Marcus slunk over to Henry, kicking off some small talk about automatons. He followed the man around the lab as he put things away, obviously sparking a topic of interest. Marcus listened as Henry droned on about the artificial limbs, watching him place the liquid securely in a nearby lock box. His glossy fingers swept over the number pad and keenly, Marcus committed the six-digit code to memory.

  471138

  “So there you have it,” Henry concluded. “A list of pros and cons I’ve experienced with the device. Thankfully the former outweigh the latter by far, though I don’t know how it works for fingers alone. Anything is better than nothing though; you don't realize how much you use your arms and hands until they've been severed by a monster…”

  “I can only imagine! Thanks Henry!” Marcus said with the biggest smile. “I'll be sure to take Joey for an evaluation with Dr. Phillips as soon as he's well enough.”

  “That'll be wonderful for him, especially since he likes to lift the weights,” he said, looking right into Marcus’ crisp, blue eyes. “I see a lot of fatigue in there, my friend. Take care of yourself and rest up. I really appreciate your kindness since I was brought here and would hate to see anything bad happen due to tiredness.”

  “Always, Henry,” Marcus said with a large smile. “I try to do my best, especially for those I care about.”

  MARCUS AWOKE IN the early hours of the morning with a start.

  Marcus, you have to pull yourself together man! The voice in his head rang out more loudly than it ever had before, knowing full well that something was wrong.

  “I’m trying,” he wailed gently, realizing in the darkness of his quarters that his sheets were drenched with sweat; far too wet to offer any sort of comfort now.

  You’re on a downward spiral, emotions running rampant. Everyone can see it and you might be too far down the path to recover.

  He laughed hollowly.

  “Who says that I even want to recover?”

  Joey…

  It took him a moment to reply. “Well that’s who we’ve been working so hard to help! It’s my goal is to see him back up and at it, by any means necessary.”

  But that’s just it, right Marcus; why you are having such a difficult time with things? You know that by going through with this, you won’t see a thing…

  For that he had no reply, opting instead to look over at the other side of the bed. He was half expecting to see Joy laying there beside him snoring loudly, everything since their trip to the Otherworld a sick and twisted dream out of some psychopathic storyteller’s mind. Much to his chagrin, he found the bed empty.

  Scratching at his beard in deep thought, he battled his own sense of reason versus emotion. Pushing himself out of bed, Marcus shuffled to the dresser in an almost zombie-like state. He mindlessly slipped on some of Joey’s joggers, a wrinkled blue shirt, and a pair of flip flops. It all looked wholly un-Marcus like, but was an accurate reflection of how far his emotional state had fallen. He headed towards the door, unable to stop himself leaving.

  It’s just for some much needed fresh air, he told himself as he walked down the corridor, eventually reaching a point where the real decision had to be made. Should he continue along the hall toward Ty’s room, or down the set of stairs to his left toward the engine room?

  Having been guided by emotions to this point, he decided to head toward his brother’s quarters, but luckily reason took over at the last second and Marcus trudged down the dimly lit stairs toward his thinking spot. There he hoped to find salvation.

  It wasn’t long until he had reached his destination, collapsing on the floor just outside the engine room. Marcus attempted to think while enveloped in the area’s soft hum, but the engines were exceptionally loud that night and anything but gentle. For all the thoughts rattling through his mind, he couldn’t focus on a single one
. Since thinking over the situation proved useless, he looked to sleep, since that had worked out during stressful times in the past. Yet on this night when he needed consoling the most, something in the very air managed to keep prudence at bay.

  There was absolutely no consoling him.

  His mind slid back to the upper decks and the forecastle.

  HQ and the antidote called out to him.

  However, before he could do any of those things, he would need something from his brother.

  THE DOOR TO TY’S room clicked, gliding opening a couple of inches allowing faint light from the hallway to drift inside. Ty stirred in his bed at the noise, restless but actually asleep.

  “So sorry brother,” came a pained whisper just before a glass jar flew into the room. It arched gracefully through the air, shattering when it hit the floor.

  “What’s that?” Ty said groggily as he sat up, looking around through blurry vision. All he could make out was his door opening all the way, a dark figure standing against the pale light while green smoke started to creep into his sight… and his lungs.

  “Mar… cus?” Ty coughed, recognizing the bearded silhouette. “Don't… do this.”

  Marcus walked into the room, a mask from Joey’s stash over his nose and mouth. He remained quiet while looking around, the eerie smoke stinging his eyes but otherwise having no effect. It looked as if Ty’s large trunk had vomited its contents around the room, a myriad of piles scattered everywhere.

  It wasn't long before he spotted what he came for amongst the clutter, the Grail sitting like a beacon atop a mound of potion supplies in the far corner. He wasted no time, moving toward it with purpose.

  “Brother… no,” Ty urged, his vision growing darker as his coughing grew more intense. Tears streamed down his cheeks, both from the gas and his emotions. “Stop…”

  But Marcus didn't; he couldn't if he tried.

  Marcus reached the Grail, grasping the cup right before Ty met the dark of unconsciousness.

  “Don’t worry Joey,” Marcus said, muffled through the mask. “I'm coming.”

  MARCUS HAD RETRIEVED what he needed from the lab, the early hours staff none the wiser, though they were left wondering why he was dressed in such strange clothing.

  With both the cup and antidote tucked away in his bag, Marcus made his way to the hospital ward, Joey’s flip flops squelching along the tiled floor.

  He walked by nurses and janitorial staff; none of them worried or concerned that he was up there. It was a normal sight for them by now, Marcus interchangeable with Adrienne and sometimes Gage, and they greeted him with warm smiles and polite talk.

  “Good to see you Mr. Sheridan,” said one nurse.

  “You too Jen,” he replied, continuing his march ahead.

  “Glad to hear this may be over soon,” another nurse beamed, her face happy and bright.

  Marcus nodded. “Something tells me sooner rather than later,” he said with a smile, paling in comparison to hers.

  After a few more short conversations, bordering on curt by the end, at last he was outside Joey’s room. Opening the door, he entered, shutting it behind him. The world outside had been cut off and now, it was just Marcus and Joey again.

  To say he was at ease would be vastly wrong, and though he removed the cup and antidote from his bag without so much as a flinch, his insides were on fire and his heart racing.

  Sweat began to form on his forehead as he removed the stopper from the antidote, filling the cup with the thick goo while making sure none of his sweat dropped into the cup. His body had chills as he began to swirl the contents around, the chunky liquid getting thinner and smoother with each turn. Eventually the Grail had transformed it into a liquid that looked and smelled like caramel, the aroma catching in the air.

  Marcus closed his eyes, taking a large whiff of the appealing drink.

  Are you really about to do this?

  He had no reply.

  Joey will be left alone.

  He had no reply.

  Instead, Marcus brought the cup over to Joey and set it on a tray. He bent over and kissed him on his chapped lips, then gave him a quick peck on the forehead.

  “I love you J,” he told him softly. “More than anything. You're going to be fine soon enough.”

  He reached for the Grail, cracking open Joey’s mouth to pour in a small amount of the potion, the tiniest dribble escaping down the side.

  Pulling up one of those uncomfortable chairs Marcus landed in it, breathing hard. He held the cup between his legs and stared down into the shiny liquid.

  Are you sure about this?

  His face scrunched up and tears began to flow. Quickly he moved the cup out of the way, looking to Joey with streams down his face.

  “My God, what have you done to me J? My life was perfectly fine until you came in and turned the whole goddamn thing upside down.” He shot a hand out and grabbed Joey. “For that I can't thank you enough. This time with you has been the best and my last gift to you is going to be the opportunity for you to live on and give those continued blessings to others.”

  Marcus lifted the Grail to his lips and took a large gulp. It was the tastiest thing he had ever drunk before and after a few more seconds, it was all gone.

  “I will always love you, Joey,” he said as he felt a warm sensation rush over his body and the Grail fell to the floor with a clang. “I don't want you to be mad at yourself, or feel guilty. You are deserving Joey and…”

  Marcus’ eyes flitted for a moment, his eyelids heavy. Suddenly all he wanted to do was close them and sleep away what felt like centuries of built up exhaustion. The night around him grew even dimmer, soon falling into complete darkness.

  It was then that Marcus Sheridan, a Journeyman of the highest caliber, left the world.

  IT HAD BEEN three hours since the discovery of Marcus’ body, seated beside Joey as if they’d been chatting the whole night and the tired man had simply fallen asleep. Sadly, there would be no rousing him from this slumber.

  The room seemed hollow, like a piece of it was missing. Marcus had since been relocated to the morgue that was in the lowest sub-levels of the building. As much as the Order prided itself on all of its achievements, even burying that section of the building far away from the eyes of daily life, it would end up seeing far more activity than anyone would have liked.

  It even reached out to touch the man who did not fear death, Gage standing beside the hospital room’s dirty window with his arms wrapped tightly around Adrienne. He looked out to the city and its gleaming lights as a rain shower began to fall, recalling Ady’s own adventure beyond death in the Astral Plane. He felt so blessed to have her back, with Marcus’ help no less, and the two of them argued for over an hour with Ty about any and all attempts to revive him. There had to be a way, with all the magical options in all of the different worlds. Ady was a testament to that, defying certain death only to return in whole to the Earth.

  Ty couldn’t deny it, though he did try; she was standing right there fighting with him. So surely there was a way…

  Yet, Ty was adamant. There would be no such opportunity for his brother to be pulled out of this and the reason was painfully simple. Use of the Holy Grail, cruel in its permanence, was an agreement that could not be broken nor any loopholes exploited. Bound by fundamental magic, Ty was thankful that Marcus had not been diverted away to the Astral Plane, Purgatory, or any other place. Marcus had been granted an express ticket to Heaven, giving up his life willingly for another, and that brought Ty a great deal of peace, even if the others were having trouble grasping that for now.

  Adrienne had been gazing out from the shelter of Gage’s grip and she didn’t ever want to leave it again. The buzz of the air conditioner and the beeps of hospital equipment droned on. Her hand was positioned lightly over her mouth as she wept, still as hard as she did when first hearing the abysmal news. The rain rushing down the cool glass symbolized her feelings perfectly; the view once much more vibrant, now repla
ced by the unsympathetic veil of sorrow.

  One of our own is gone, Adrienne thought in the safe quiet of her mind. She was glad that Joey was back, or would be once he woke up, but the price paid was so much. Gone… ironic that such a short word carried such a substantial meaning. One of our own is never coming back.

  She hadn’t felt remotely like this since witnessing the death of Joey’s father in Texas, except maybe when she saw Joey on that accursed table at Eaves Green with her own eyes. Marcus’ death – like those – had hit close to home. Way too close for comfort.

  “Gage…” she whispered, expecting Joey to come around at any moment. “Should we keep what happened to Marcus from him? Just until he’s recovered.”

  Gage replied at once, “We have to tell him. It’d be a hard sell to constantly avoid the question until he got better. I would want someone to do the same for me if it were either of you.”

  “I know, baby,” she replied, seeming to plead for an easy way out, “but our J’s already been through so much. This will break him.”

  “Darlin’ he’s already broke. I tell ya it’s better to get all the hurt hitting him up front than to let him heal up, only to crack his heart wide open again. Trust me, he’ll be better for this.”

  She wished that she could convince him otherwise, but he was such a stubborn oaf that she actually found herself agreeing with.

  “Why did he do it?” Adrienne continued softly, her lips hovering just above his flexed bicep.

  “Marcus?”

  “Yup,” she replied. “Why didn’t he wait for us to make a decision? One that would have had him still here.”

  Gage sighed, rubbing her head gently before giving it a quick peck.