The Ruined Man

by Jason DeGray

  The cruiser’s doors were wide open and Trooper Lane was lying on the ground as stiff as a board. His eyes were wide open, staring intently at nothing and his mouth was slightly agape.

  “Lance? You okay?”

  No response. Not even a blink or a nod or a moan.

  Buddy pressed his ear against the trooper’s chest and sighed when he heard a heartbeat. “Then what the devil is wrong with ya?” It was then he noticed the strange object clutched in Trooper Lane’s hand. Buddy pried it free and studied it curiously. He too was a hunting man and readily recognized the deer bones unnaturally shaped into a sphere. A pinprick of floating light appeared in the center of the talisman. “What in the hell…?” Buddy murmured before he was swept away by the light.

  ***

  Frank Barber came to with a throbbing head. Those mercenaries had clocked him the minute he got out of the car without hesitation. Everything after that was…well, fuzzy, for lack of a better term. But phrases and words weren’t Barber’s thing, he focused instead on his gift of situational awareness. Presently, he was tied to a chair facing the door in an empty room. The view from the window to his left told him he was on the second story. His surroundings gave him nothing other than that. He started working his restraints. They were nothing more than slender rope tied to the flimsy back of the wooden chair. He couldn’t believe professional mercenaries would do such a shoddy job securing a captive. Maybe they didn’t. But if they didn’t tie him up, then who did? The door opened and Carrie Spangler entered.

  “Well, I’m glad you finally decided to join us!” She was all smiles and sunshine.

  Barber had never known Spangler to act like that, even when she was happy. “You’re in a good mood.”

  “Why shouldn’t I be? Good things are happening.”

  “Good things, huh? Like tying me to a chair?”

  “In part, yes. Your…fate…has been left to me. It’s quite an honor, actually. But more importantly, tonight we will witness something so rare that it has only occurred a handful of times.”

  Barber whistled. “Sounds impressive. What’s going down?”

  “Magic, Barber. Real magic. Or, as those of us in the know call it, getting the trick. And tonight, we get the trick to give birth to a new era of history.”

  “Magic? And you called Wolf crazy.” Barber shook his head. “You’ve lost it, Spangler, you know that? You’ve crossed the tracks into Crazy Town.”

  Spangler’s gaze hardened into a dangerous stare. “Think what you want. But the Lord of Murder will walk among us—in the flesh. And he will open the world’s eyes to such wonderful and terrible things. Every knee shall bow. Every tongue confess…”

  “Lord of Murder? Like the one Wolf was always blabbering about? The one in The Lesser Key of Solomon?”

  “Been doing your reading against my advice, I see. But yes. Just like that. Only the book called Power has given us the means to actually raise him. None of that pop occult crap. This really works.”

  “How do you know?”

  “Oh, I know. I’ve seen things, Frank. I have faith. And all it takes to move mountains…” Spangler trailed off and the door opened behind her. Porcelain entered and quietly closed the door behind him.

  “Detective Barber, I understand?” Barber nodded. “Pleasure. You may call me Porcelain.”

  “Who are you and what do you want?”

  “I think that has been aptly explained by our loquacious friend here.” He turned to Spangler and she quickly averted her gaze. “I assure you, it is all very real.”

  “If that were the case, then why would you want to summon the Lord of Murder? Why not summon The Lord of Sunshine or The Earl of Lollipops or something?”

  “Do you understand power, detective?”

  “More than you know,” said Barber. “I struggle with its side effects every day.”

  “You mean the petty crimes and atrocities that define your job? Please. That isn’t power. That is waste. Power, true power, doesn’t waste. You know what it does? It grows. It adds to itself. It consumes the world around it and reshapes that world according to its will. That is power. Who wouldn’t want that?” Barber tried to answer but Porcelain held up his hand and cut him off. “Understandably, power isn’t for everybody. Its true nature is hidden. Veiled by the Almighty, that jealous bastard, who wants to keep it all for Himself. That’s what started the rebellion in heaven. That’s what got Lucifer kicked out. And that is what the serpent was trying to explain to Adam and Eve in the garden.”

  “Are you saying the devil is a good guy?”

  “In so many words, yes. Think of him not as an adversary offering a forbidden fruit to ensnare man’s souls, but as a Prometheus, bringing fire to mankind to enlighten them and set them free. That fire is the knowledge of true power and getting the trick to acquire it. The forbidden fruit is ultimately open access to the mind of God. Pure, unadulterated power. Where the fallen Lucifer left off, the watchers picked up. Magic is real, detective. There are miracles in the world. Be certain of that.”

  “It’s not right,” said Barber. “We weren’t supposed to have that kind of power. Look what happens to people when they go looking for it. They start wearing stupid masks and MJ gloves and babbling insane shit.”

  “We shall see,” said Porcelain as he turned, nodding at Spangler before leaving the room.

  “Alone at last,” Spangler said and strode toward Barber, illuminated only by the moonlight filtering through the window. She straddled him and took his head in her hands. “I always thought there was a rugged attractiveness about you. Something very…manly.”

  “Spangler, listen to yourself,” Barber tried to reason with her. “You’re talking crazy. You’re acting crazy. You’re supposed to keep people from doing this kind of shit!”

  But Spangler was gone. She had given over body and soul to the Lord of Murder. Most people are lucky. They’ve little desire to look behind the veil and stand in the presence of something awesome (in the literal sense of the word) beyond comprehension. Those that do lose the privilege of sanity because to be sane in such a condition would destroy a person. Insanity becomes a refuge, a survival technique, a way for people to make sense of the insensible.

  She slapped her captive hard. “Don’t tell me about crazy! I searched for true magic for years! Years! I was drowning in crazy until I gave up hope. And in the end, I didn’t find truth. It found me. And you know what, Frank? Truth is not crazy!” She emphasized her point by spitting in Barber’s face. “Let me tell you what’s crazy. Getting in over your head, that’s crazy. Stirring up trouble and meddling with forces far more powerful than you can imagine, that’s crazy.” She stood up abruptly and pulled a gun. “Coming here expecting anything other than death, that’s crazy.” She fired seconds after Barber, breaking free of his flimsy restraints, ripped the back of the chair and dove for her.

  CHAPTER 28

  Wolf, Jonas, and Ragnar stopped a short distance from the house and hid the SUV in a dry riverbed. The CB radio had been going off constantly since they commandeered the vehicle. The last message they heard was: “No response from Delta. Send out Beta and Gamma, fanning the area.” They ran into the Beta team coming out of the riverbed. Both parties were surprised by the sudden encounter, but Wolf fired first. Automatic shotgun fire blasted off the sides of the surrounding mesas.

  “Come on!” he ordered his two companions after the scuffle. “The rest will be here soon!”

  They darted in and out of shadows for the remaining quarter mile to the ranch house. Just as Wolf predicted, Gamma team sped by them on their way to the scene. The way to the ranch house lay open before them.

  Wolf reloaded his shotgun. “Ready?” Ragnar and Jonas nodded. “Alright. Then let’s go kill some demon worshippers.”

  ***

  Spangler lay dead on the floor at Barber’s feet. He was bleeding from a gunshot to the right shoulder, but was otherwise unharmed. It had been a short battle. Barber bowled Spangler over as she b
uried the gun in his shoulder and fired. The bullet went clean through and he was thankful for that small consolation. He wrestled with Spangler on the ground until he managed to impale her with a broken piece of the chair back still dangling from his restraints. After pulling the remainder of the rope off himself, he pried the gun from the shrink’s corpse and peeked out the hallway. He could see other bedrooms and what appeared to be a bathroom at the far end. He made for the bathroom, taking careful and quiet steps along the way. It was the longest journey of Frank Barber’s life. Below, he heard the muffled voices of people speaking. A sigh of relief tumbled from his lips as he eased the door closed and started digging through the cabinets.

  Surprisingly, it was a well-stocked restroom. He dug up a first aid kit from under the sink and quickly patched himself up. To help with the pain, he popped a Vicodin from a bottle in the medicine cabinet.

  “Alright, Frank,” he said to his reflection in the mirror above the sink. “There’s shit going down here that’s crazy beyond your wildest imaginings. You gotta keep your head if you’re gonna come through this alive. If you hesitate, you will die. Time to call on your killer instinct.” He wished terribly that Wolf was with him. This weirdness was right up his alley. He had been right about the Lord of Murder, after all. Or at least right about the fanatics who believed in the demon enough to kill for it. He checked the clip in the gun and stepped out of the bathroom into destiny.

  CHAPTER 29

  The trio’s surprise assault on the ranch house was doomed to failure. They made it about halfway across the open field when Apocalypse Group International’s Alpha team flanked them, leveling the barrels of their assault rifles on their targets. “Freeze!” the commander ordered.

  “Sonofabitch,” Wolf growled and dropped his guns.

  While the commander radioed in and the other two patted down their captives, Jonas pulled out a pack of cigarettes. “Mind if I smoke?” he said and lit up before anyone could answer.

  “Hey!” said the commander. “Put that out!”

  “No problem,” said Jonas and exhaled his drag. He twirled the cigarette in the air, making odd shapes that left their imprint on the night.

  The commander thrust his gun barrel into Jonas’s chest. “I said put that out! Now!”

  “One more puff?” Jonas took one more pull and exhaled into the commander’s face. “Olag Galo,” he said as he emptied his lungs of smoke. Only, his exhale didn’t end. He kept breathing smoke until it formed a thick cloud that obscured everyone and everything trapped within it. “Run, you assholes!” he yelled and then the butt of the commander’s rifle found his temple and Jonas fell into blackness.

  Wolf and Ragnar broke from the smoke cloud at a full sprint, miraculously spared from any of the blind fire coming from Alpha team. They ran for the house and were almost at the back door when Hugo and Creepy stepped outside. “Split up!” Wolf yelled and darted around one side of the house while Ragnar fled around the other.

  Wolf turned the corner and bowled into Barber. They fell to the ground, a tangled mess of flailing limbs and curses. Wolf gained the upper hand, and straddling Barber, prepared to pummel him to death.

  “Vic! It’s me! Frank!”

  “Barber? What the hell? Where did you come from?”

  Before he could get an answer, he was grabbed by the collar and lifted into the air. Creepy breathed heavily in his face.

  “Damn son. You need a breath mint,” Wolf said.

  In response, Creepy smashed an overlarge fist into Wolf’s face and slowly started tightening his grip. Wolf managed to glance down for a moment at Barber, who was being held in place under Creepy’s heel.

  “Stop! Don’t kill them yet!” said a voice that sounded to Wolf like it was a million miles away. Then darkness swallowed him up.

  ***

  Jonas awoke choking on the water that had been thrown in his face.

  “Oh good. You’re awake.” Sven leered over him, a smug smile plastered on his face. He stepped aside and Porcelain stepped into view.

  “Hello, Jonas. You can call me Porcelain. Do you know why you’re here?”

  Jonas nodded. “The Lord,” he croaked.

  “Yes, the Lord. The Lord, the Lord, the Lord! Is he not a great Lord?”

  “I thought so. Once upon a time,” Jonas admitted.

  “I know,” said Porcelain. “And you served him dutifully. You gave him his offerings, sang his praises and in the end…you betrayed him.”

  “No! It wasn’t me. It was Wolf. He was the one that interrupted the ceremony.”

  “You still blame Wolf?” Porcelain rasped.

  Sven said, “Wolf was a pawn. I was the one who tipped him off. And he played his part perfectly. He distracted you so the Lord could have his vengeance on that pathetic Purple Gates cult.”

  “Vengeance? What do you mean? I did everything asked of me!”

  Porcelain placed a white-gloved hand on Jonas’s shoulder. “The avatar, Jonas. The avatar. The Lord of Murder wished to manifest, to walk the earth freely for the first time in centuries! He had no desire to be trapped in the wrinkled flesh of the indigent you dredged up to imprison him in. Did you really expect to bind a prince of Hell and bend him to your will so easily? When he figured out what you were up to, he became very angry. He reached out and we answered. We served him when you betrayed him.”

  “I would never!”

  “Don’t lie.” Porcelain struck him across the face. “The Lord knows your heart. But the Lord can be merciful. He has decided to reach out to you in acknowledgment of your service. Do you wish to repent, Jonas the Unrepentant?”

  Jonas was never a strong man. An infallible weakness of character and gross cowardice were some of the biggest motivating factors behind his desire to become a trickster. He craved the power granted by magical knowledge to negate his own feelings of impotence. The bravest moment of his life was when he forced the insane demon back into Hell, and that moment was entirely driven by self-preservation. Another such moment had arisen and Jonas answered without hesitation. “Yes. I want to repent. I’ve sinned against my Lord.”

  CHAPTER 30

  Ragnar ditched Hugo easily. He was stealthy for one so large and watched from a shadowed alcove in the wall of the Spanish-style villa while Hugo lumbered past him, confused. The shaman broke from his hiding place and made his way to the back door. The door was unlocked and he eased his hulking frame into the kitchen. He immediately heard noises coming from the door leading to the basement. Curious, he opened the door and descended the steps into the cellar that had been remodeled into an apartment. Miriam Wolf, screaming and banging things around, stopped short when she saw Ragnar.

  “Who the hell are you?” she snapped, seething anger and defiance.

  “I am Ragnar. Are you Mrs. Wolf?”

  Miriam didn’t answer, she just stared daggers at Ragnar.

  “I’m here with your husband, Victor.”

  “Victor? He’s here? He’s alive?”

  “Correct on both accounts.”

  “Where are we?”

  “A ranch outside of Encino. You are in the basement of the ranch house.”

  “Did you get the other guys? Sven and the one wearing the white mask?”

  “Not yet. But I intend to,” assured Ragnar. “But first, you have to get out of here. Follow me.” He led Miriam upstairs and to the back door. He led her to the SUV hidden in the riverbed. “Take it and drive straight for the road. Don’t stop for anybody! Understand?”

  Miriam nodded.

  “Good. Have courage, Mrs. Wolf. We’ll see this through yet.”

  “Where are you going?”

  “To make sure that lumbering troll doesn’t find you. And to seek out your hosts. Hopefully, I can distract them long enough for you to escape. Now go!”

  Miriam slipped into the SUV and Ragnar began his search for Sven and the man in the white mask. He couldn’t shake the feeling that Sven and this man in the white mask were part of his vision someho
w. He knew they were responsible for the snake uncurling prematurely to trigger Ragnarok. He said a silent prayer of thanks to his spirit guides and steeled his resolve to face his fate.

  “Goddammit!” Miriam swore and slammed the steering wheel. The truck wouldn’t start. She popped the hood, though she knew nothing about fixing cars, and had a cursory look. She wasn’t an expert, but she was pretty sure the wires coming from the spark plugs weren’t supposed to be cut in half.

  “Need a hand?”

  She spun around and faced Jonas, smiling like the Cheshire Cat.

  “Do I know you?”

  “More than you realize. But more importantly, I know you, Miriam.”

  “Don’t take a step,” she warned. “Or so help me God, I’ll claw out your good eye with my bare hands.”

  Jonas raised his hands in surrender. “No need for threats. I’m here to help. Looks like someone sabotaged your car. Probably the team of mercs that was here earlier. I wouldn’t be surprised if they were watching right now, radioing for backup. We don’t have a lot of time. I can take you to Victor.”

  “You know Victor?”

  “Oh yes. We’ve been working together for some time now. We came here together, actually. To find you.”

  “Where is he?”

  “Close. Follow me. I’ll make sure you get there.”

  She followed Jonas against her better judgment because she was scared and desperate. She knew Wolf must be nearby and was intent on reuniting with him. So she followed, but didn’t let her guard down. Not that it did any good. Jonas led her right to Caine and Hugo. They threw her, kicking and screaming into the backseat of Caine’s car and drove up a dirt road toward the top of the mesa that loomed over the ranch.

  Ragnar saw the scuffle with Miriam from the kitchen window. At the same time, cars started arriving, driving up the road to the ranch house in a line like a funeral procession. The devoted children of the Lord of Murder had arrived. Cursing, he slipped out the back door and waited. One by one the possessed people found their way into the house. They were greeted at the door by Sven and Porcelain. After the last cultist had filed in, the door was closed. A few minutes after that, a straggler turned off the highway and onto the road to Sol Ranch. Ragnar waited until the driver got out then sprang from the shadows, snapping the man’s neck before he knew what had happened. He threw on the man’s black cloak (which was about three sizes too small) and waited in the car. About ten minutes later, the cultists returned to their cars and started a procession to the mesa. Ragnar followed the procession unaware that Sven and Porcelain had gone in the opposite direction, toward the barn.