Then Hell Followed (Journeyman Book 5)

by Golden Czermak

  “Pride maybe? Stupidity? Nah, I think the answer’s just love. Thinkin’ on it, I’m not sure there was any other way out. Would we have decided to ask someone ‘less important’ to take a swig? Some bad guy locked up in a prison cell?”

  Adrienne wanted to say yes. There were a lot of bad people in the world who deserved to die, yet were still allowed to breathe.

  “It ain’t our place to make those kinds of choices,” Gage continued, rocking to and fro. “It’s different in a fight, where your life is on the line with another monster or human alike. This wasn’t self-defense or something for the preservation of humanity. It’s a personal decision no matter how we slice it up and those, sad to say, are the most difficult to make.”

  Adrienne again found herself agreeing with him, which had to be some kind of record. It would not have been right to ask Ty for such a sacrifice, either. She had grown to like his different brand of personality. He might have made the decision to drink on his own, or he might not. All of this was so profound and she just wanted to be back in Houston, none the wiser to amulets and demons and the end of the world.

  Patting Gage on the arm, he lowered it and Adrienne moved close to the window, resting her hands on the sill.

  “We’ve all be through so much in such a short time Gage. I remember you telling me how your soul was growing too tired to fight; I think mine is joining you there.”

  Gage lumbered over, putting a forearm against the window.

  “You got that right. Although I feel like we are close to the end and whatever happens, it will all be over soon.”

  “Hopefully for the better,” she answered, wishing Marcus would see it. “I for one will be happy when –”

  “Gage?” a raspy voice croaked its way into their conversation.

  It was coming from behind and Adrienne was the first to close her eyes upon hearing it, more tears following as Gage shut his briefly, turning around with a loud sniff.

  “Is that… you G?” the voice said again.

  "Hey there J,” said Gage softly, wiping his nose and already preparing himself to break the news. “It’s definitely me brother!”

  “I knew it,” Joey replied. “Your voice… always so loud. Ady is much quieter.”

  Gage chuckled.

  “Hey I take offense to that!”

  Joey smiled, his chapped lips cracking.

  “You should. It’s… true though. Can’t deny.”

  Adrienne finally built up enough courage to walk over. She looked Joey over as she had done for the last month or so and it was far more difficult now than any of the days before.

  Joey’s smile widened.

  “Hey… pretty lady. I missed you.”

  Adrienne quickly grabbed his hand, squeezing so hard Joey winced.

  “Sorry J!” she said at least five times in succession, just happy to be talking with him again without fear of a seizure or death. “Oh how I’ve missed you too.”

  They all looked at each other, so similar yet so different than back in Houston that one fateful day before everything changed. Joey’s eyes then started to move around the room and the question Gage had been dreading came at last.

  “Is… Marcus here?” Joey asked, tilting his head the other way, toward the door. “Probably reading… it’s hard to pull him away from that.”

  Joey turned back toward Gage and if the look on the big man’s face wasn't enough to relay that something was wrong, his next words would.

  “J,” he said with a sigh that literally tore out the center of his chest, “we need to talk…”

  THE WEATHER TURNED out much better than it began, the hard rain diminishing into a hazy drizzle that allowed the sun to peek periodically through the clouds. Although there were no truly good days for memorials, it was as good a day as any to say goodbye.

  The entry hall of Order headquarters and its balcony had been transformed at the request of Om Citta and all meetings that hour had been cancelled or postponed. Gleaming white banners had been brought in, stretching from the floor to the ceiling. They alternated with equally tall standards featuring a portrait of Marcus from his earlier years in the Order. With the chilled breeze passing over the fluttering fabric, the subtle movement was enough to make it look like he was alive.

  On the lower level, simple white chairs had been arranged in two large groupings that faced the balcony, split down the middle to form an aisle. Many different Journeymen filed in; some were unkempt, others extravagant, and some… unique to say the least. Irrespective, there was no denying the amazing assortment of beings that had gathered, both human and paranormal, old and young, all there to pay their respects to a man they had worked with. A man they loved.

  At the end of each row were three lilies, tied together with sheer linens. They matched much larger bouquets that topped off attractive vases set closer to the railing, bordering a marbled plinth that was about five feet tall. Three chairs had been set in front of it, facing back toward the rest of the seats. In the leftmost one sat Om, looking back at the first row to his right where the entire Council had arrived and taken their seats. All looked grand, even more so than during their meetings, even if Drogir was obviously struggling with a suit that had been in mothballs for quite some time. Judging by the style, at least a century or more.

  The sweeping flow of orchestral music filled the chamber and the crowd fell quiet in reverent thoughts, standing as one of Marcus’ favorite songs, Con Te Partiro, began. The cold of the breeze seemed to evaporate, replaced with a warmth radiating from the back of the hall. It was then that Om’s eyes widened at what he saw, filled with a many thoughts both joyful and sad.

  There were pallbearers carrying a shiny, silver casket on their shoulders. They gripped its chrome handles tightly as they marched forward in solemnity, bearing Marcus down the aisle toward the platform in the front. At the rear were Hammer and Brandon, dressed in smart black suits with silver ties. Gage was in the center position wearing the same and opposite him Henry, using his automaton. Leading the subdued procession on the right was Ty. Never one for suits, he was dressed in simple black jeans and a long sleeved shirt, his glasses replaced with contacts that showed off the crystal blues of his eyes. Last but certainly not least was Joey on the left, limping along while carrying a burden equal to the rest.

  The six of them stopped just ahead of Om, Joey giving him a little smile as they all felt a rush of air surround them. Letting go of the handles, the casket didn't fall, remaining suspended in the air as they all took their seats.

  Joey and Ty stayed up front, sitting next to Om while the others took to four empty chairs on the left side. As Gage sat, he took Adrienne’s waiting hand and looked at her gorgeous black dress, mouthing ‘I love you.’

  The coffin spun a quarter turn and its lid raised to show Marcus in repose before floating overhead. It set itself down on the platform without a sound. The music faded away, the crowd sat, and Om rose from his seat to stand before them. A flock of doves soared overhead, a signal to begin his eulogy.

  “I have known… well, knew, Marcus Sheridan the longest of anyone here. Except perhaps Councilor Randall, teaching him when he first stepped through the portal of the Academy.”

  Om watched as some of the group gave approving nods, while others began to weep.

  “Regardless of how long any of us knew him, I would be correct in saying Marcus was an exceptionally hard worker and Journeyman. Each and every one of us saw that in him. Few I have met in all my years have the drive that young man carried with him, and his wisdom far surpassed his age – tenfold at least.”

  Gage nudged Adrienne and they both looked to Joey. He had closed his eyes and was muttering as if practicing his own speech, fingers tirelessly fidgeting in his lap.

  Om continued discussing Marcus’ many achievements and continued support; all of which lead him to ask for his assistance with the Odyssey.

  “Marcus loved that ship, helping her become the marvel that she is today.” He paused, looking b
ack to Joey who still had his eyes shut. “I had even contemplated bequeathing her to him but alas, that can no longer happen. So instead, I hereby give the Odyssey to you, Joey Mosley, my only request being able to serve you aboard until the end of my days.”

  Joey’s eyes shot open in disbelief, thinking he might have dreamed that last part of Om’s speech. However, the gasps and mumbles coming from the crowd proved otherwise.

  “Thank you…” was all Joey could say, stricken dumb by what had transpired. Gage and Adrienne were equally shocked, both their mouths agape.

  Om concluded and returned to his seat, patting Joey softly on the thigh as Ty rose for his turn. He stepped up before the gathering and placed his hands behind him, moving them to his pockets a short second later.

  “Hello everyone. It's been a while since I was here in HQ and I wish it were under better circumstances.” He looked briefly over his shoulder at Marcus. “I'm Ty Sheridan and I'm sure you probably don't know me as well as my brother, if you knew I even existed at all. That said, I think you all know the concept of family and how wrought it can be with ups and downs. Well, despite our own past history of that, family is forever, and Marcus will be dearly missed.”

  The gathering remained respectfully quiet, a few stray whispers working through the silence.

  “Ironic, isn't it?” Ty continued, running a hand through his long hair to ease his tension. “Marcus was able to incapacitate me without magic or bindings, but by using an herbal gas of all things. I recognize its after effects, being one of my own creations. I had mentioned it to him one time in passing and from that, he was able to brew it, and use it. To that point I agree with Om; my brother was ever resourceful and driven, able to do anything he put his mind to.”

  Ty carried on with his eulogy, uncaring in his revelations that he and his brother had hard times, especially with the loss of their parents and the toll the Incursion brought upon them. Those present didn't judge, instead nodding as many of them experienced that terrible event first hand and they knew the terrors it brought, along with the lives it inevitably changed.

  “But on our way to France,” Ty continued in a low voice, “Marcus said something he had never said to me before. Sorry. Did that mean we would have made amends in the end? I don't really know, but given Marcus’ tendency to achieve what he put his determined mind to…”

  He stopped, needing an emotional break, so he turned and looked at his brother one more time.

  “… I damn sure wish we could try.”

  Ty struggled to say any more, moving back to his seat while Joey breathed deeply, knowing that his time had come.

  Standing slowly, he wobbled a slight bit before limping to his spot. As he looked out over the gathering, the truth at last stabbed him full on, right in the chest.

  Marcus was gone… and they were all here to say goodbye.

  “Hey everyone,” Joey began, innocently swaying back and forth. He waved his right hand, missing digits on display. “Let me start by saying without Marcus, I wouldn't be standing here right now; crazy double meaning, eh? His sacrifice for me will never be forgotten, nor will the countless things he did for each and every one of you and the people out there in the world.

  “That's what I love about him, his work ethic; second to none. I know Christmas is behind us, but I think I could have gotten him a binder, or office clips…”

  Joey stopped mid-sentence, caressing the charm Marcus had given him in his good hand. It meant more to him than any words could express and Joey’s eyes sank to the tiled floor, a tear dropping between his scuffed shoes.

  “I never expected to have anyone like that,” he lamented. “Someone that could make me feel special and whole. I think that for the longest time, I felt undeserving, but now realize I'm not.”

  He recounted a short story about how he had just been up to Marcus’ office to have a look around. He'd never been in there before, so was curious to see where Marcus spent most of his time before they met. It was exactly how he envisioned it to be, except for one thing. There was a selfie that Marcus had printed, sitting in a simple frame facing his chair.

  “We had taken it just before discovering the ruins of our place in Houston,” Joey said with a smile on his face. “Both of them had the stupidest smiles but now that I think about it, that was true happiness in the face of darkness and we all need more of that with the storm that is coming.”

  Reaching into the pocket of his suit, he plucked out that very picture, looking at Marcus adoringly.

  “He told me once, not too long ago actually, to never live in fear of the future, or what curves the road sends your way. I really didn’t get the notion at first, but I think I get it now – ironically when he’s no longer here to share it with. I’m done sitting back, waiting. Done letting the demons dictate how and when I move. I plan to head out there with my family, on my ship, and bring the fight to the night. I would hope that as we get close to the inevitable conflict we let Marcus’ efforts show us the way, so his memory and sacrifices are not in vain.”

  Joey turned around and looked across to his friend, his brother, his lover. His heart was so heavy by that point; he could very well fall through to the floors below.

  “It’s time to take you home one more time,” he said with eyes glistening. “You’ll always be with me Marcus, until we’re able to meet again.”

  As Joey fell back into his chair a proud wreck, everyone else rose from their seats, bowing their heads in respect.

  The casket floated gracefully off its plinth, catching stray light from the sun to shine like a jewel in the souls of all present. Turning a quarter turn once more, the silvery coffin proceeded to glide out across the balcony and beyond, the Odyssey shimmering into view to welcome him home one last time.

  THE SUN WAS sinking, its light slanting through fleecy white and silver clouds as a gentle rain spread twinkling beads all across the city. Although it had been a solemn day, with the funeral of Marcus Sheridan concluding not an hour ago, like the sun there were rays of joy and of hope filtering through the shade.

  Om and Evans rode together in the elevator, rising up toward the Council chambers where the vampire would be instated as an official member. They were silent, Evans regarding the view though the weeping glass.

  “How are you feeling my friend?” asked Om as he looked Evan’s way. He could tell something was bothering the vampire, as he had the very same look back in his day.

  Evans looked down at the diminutive creature, his face not really happy or sad.

  “I’m unsure,” he replied, “and that frightens me.”

  “It shouldn’t,” said Om. “Well, truth be known that is quite easy for me to say now, of course. Back when I was first brought on the Council though it was a completely different story. I quite literally lost my lunch… all over the conference table and Councilor Fairwing.”

  “No you did not!” Evans exclaimed, eyes bulging with disbelief or perhaps from the visual of it.

  “Yes! You could ask councilor herself if she were still alive,” Om replied. “It was not a pretty sight in the least, though I can safely say it was not that which killed her.”

  Evans stifled a laugh, considering it would be rude to laugh about the dead, but inside his head it was a completely different story.

  “Thank you, Om,” he murmured. “I truly needed that.”

  “What exactly?”

  “The laugh, a confidence boost… all of the above.”

  “You are more than ready for this, Evans,” Om reassured him. “Nobody could take that from you leading up to this and they certainly couldn’t take it from you now. I am very pleased that Gage suggested you be on the Council. We will all benefit from the diverse range of viewpoints and experience you bring to the table and I, for one, am blessed to here to witness history in the making.”

  “You offer quite a unique viewpoint yourself, Om,” Evans said respectfully as he bowed. “It is such a pity that you left.”

  “It was a far di
fferent time,” he replied, “and despite Fenran’s indelible mark we are much better now for it, I believe.”

  “I agree,” said Evans, a question starting to burn in his mind. It was likely one that many people had burning in theirs as well.

  “Om…” he said gingerly. “I have never seen a creature such as yourself anywhere else before; where is it that –”

  The elevator dinged and its doors slid open, the hallway to the chamber beckoning them. Om pointed toward the large doors at the end while smirking, and Evans exited the lift doing the same.

  “At last this blasted table has set itself,” Drogir said irritably, removing his formal collar as the doors to the chamber swung open.

  “Ladies and Gentlefolk of the Council,” Om said as he stepped inside, “may I present to you Mr. David Evans, who has come to accept his position on the Grand Council of the Order of Journeymen.”

  “I bid thee welcome, Mr. Evans,” said Jane Carter, now standing at center of their traditionally curved conference table.

  With those words Om stepped aside a few paces and raised his arm, Evans passing into the room assertively. He looked to the main table where Jane was, sunlight streaming in across her and the others at the table. To her left sat Timothy, Drogir, and Tyrol while to her right was Quileth and Allete. Between the two of them was a vacant seat – his seat.

  Evans advanced to the center of the room, stopping just ahead of the table where a large swath of brightness cut across the room. As the direct sunlight hit the exposed areas of his skin there was a faint sizzle and tiny wafts of smoke curled from his pores to hang closely to his body. All present dipped their heads in admiration as the blinds drew down, the daylight fading as it was replaced with the dim lights of the room’s wall fixtures.

  “David Evans,” Jane addressed. “You have come here today at our request to be a part of the Order Council, nominated by one of our most honored if not… progressive members, Gage Crosse.”

  Evans nodded, even letting out a little chuckle.

  “Yes, I have come.”