Demon Key

by David Brookover

  Teddi’s eyelids rose to reveal dancing yellow and crimson flames. Dex tried to tear his gaze away from them, but they held him in a powerful hypnotic embrace.

  Jackson was strangely oblivious to her wicked charms; instead, his consciousness traveled back to the rainforest where he listened to Yokie’s advice near the DEA campsite.

  No use all that magic on the evil in your friend.

  Jackson heard himself speaking. You want me to save some of it? But why?

  You know when time comes.

  The memory faded, and he examined the antidote ball, turning it over and over between his thumb and finger. Save some. Good idea. But he wasn’t exactly sure why it was a good idea.

  “Jackson! Get the lead out!” Dex sputtered.

  The snakes danced at eye-level now, threatening to strike any second. Glistening amber venom trickled from their fangs and splashed onto the rocky floor.

  Jackson maneuvered his right knee atop Teddi’s heaving chest to free his other hand. He pinched off a third of the antidote ball and stuffed the rest into his shirt pocket. Without further delay, he forced the antidote beneath her squirming tongue.

  Within seconds, unearthly banshee wails escaped her lips with hurricane force, blowing him and Dex off her body. The snakes dropped limply to the ground and receded into her fingertips. She lashed out with her arms and legs like a madwoman, hitting and gouging herself in the process. Blood stained her clothing, and purplish-black contusions rose on her face. A cloud of hornets swarmed from her mouth and formed a buzzing obsidian cloud above her attackers. Then suddenly, the hornets vanished, and Teddi’s struggles ceased. Her eyelids dropped, and she fell back, unconscious, on her back. Jackson allowed himself a whopper sigh of relief before glancing over at his wounded partner.

  Jackson’s expression slumped.

  The sheriff was regarding him with hostile eyes like yawning blast furnaces, engorged with yellow and crimson eddies. Jackson had not foreseen this chilling turn of events during his rainforest vision.

  He and Teddi were in big trouble.

  Chapter 59

  As the ravenous marine creature neared Florida’s Ten Thousand Islands just west of Everglades City, it slowed and surfaced to fill its lungs with air. After a single monstrous inhale, its instincts prickled danger. A familiar death malodor permeated the briny air. Birds. Shellfish. Turtles. All dead.

  The Florida red tide was in full bloom along the Gulf of Mexico shoreline, from the Ten Thousand Islands to the northerly Big Bend and Panama City. This occurrence was known as algal bloom, an occasion in which marine algae accumulate rapidly, or “bloom.” The blooms formed dense, visible red patches at the water’s surface, and although scientists were oblivious to the causes of red tide, they were familiar with its devastation of marine life.

  Some of the algae produced large amounts of toxins, such as demonic acid, which caused neurological damage in marine mammals. The red tide toxins became highly concentrated in marine creatures, because they have the ability to consume large quantities of poisoned plankton. When other marine life consumed these toxic carriers, they died.

  The primitive sea creature had encountered this strange water-borne death twice throughout its lengthy lifespan, and during the second incident, it was fortunate to escape to the deep waters beyond death’s reach and fully recover.

  It would not make the same mistake and blunder into the mysterious red tide again.

  Although the creature preferred hunting in the shallows where it could also heal, it twisted its large snake-like body to the west and swam swiftly toward the open waters.

  Its mounting hunger seared its senses with rage and urgency. It was starving.

  A retired sports fisherman, Hal Watson, sat on the stern deck of his thirty-eight-foot Silverton and scanned the Gulf with his powerful binoculars. The brim of his Panama hat fluttered in the light breeze. Alice, his bronzed twenty-something mistress, lay naked on the bow catching some rays. She hated fishing, but loved sunning, drinking, spending money, and wild sex.

  Miami Beach, like the rest of South Florida, was smothered by unrelenting storm clouds. Sunshine state, hell! He was forced to cruise south through the Florida Bay and a mile into the Gulf until he located some precious sunlight for his eye candy, Muffy.

  Hal followed a Coast Guard cutter as it moved into shallow water along the coastline. Judging by its crawling speed, he guessed that it was searching for something. He panned the binoculars over the glistening waters encircling his boat, The Rum Pirate, looking for drug smugglers, but there were no other boats in sight.

  He spotted a small school of bottlenose dolphins that had been lazily swimming in his direction for the past thirty minutes. He desperately wanted to cast his baited line and bring a few of them home, but he had neglected to renew his fishing license. With the damn Coast Guard hanging around, he didn’t dare fish. He didn’t feel lucky today. The last thing he needed was a damn ticket or his boat impounded.

  The dolphins drew within a couple hundred feet of The Rum Pirate, and the Coast Guard was still within sight. Hal ran his fingers through his damp, salt-and-pepper hair. What the hell was the matter with them? Why didn’t they gun their engines, move up the coast, and leave him alone? There was nothing out here. Couldn’t they see that?

  Hal popped the tab of another sweating beer can and took a long swig. He was so exasperated about not fishing that he barely tasted it. The wind picked up, and The Rum Pirate bobbed on the medium chop. He disliked how the Silverton rode so high in the water. When he took her out of Miami Beach, he always maintained a course near shore, because she wasn’t what he considered seaworthy.

  Hal took another swallow of beer and glanced out over the stern rail. He didn’t need his binoculars now. The dolphins frolicked within a hundred feet. He sat heavily in his fishing chair and sighed. This was torture. Out-and-out torture.

  He stared at his fishing rod, then at the live bait chest to his right. His sun-furrowed complexion compressed into a frown. Muffy would return with a tan, and he would go home empty handed.

  After gulping the rest of his beer, Hal angrily tossed the empty can into the water. He turned toward the cutter and considered giving them a one-finger salute, when to his surprise, he noticed that it was moving quickly north. Within minutes, the cutter was a gray lump on the horizon.

  Hal smiled, and his bushy silver eyebrows arched. Without wasting another second, he baited the thick hook and cast it out over the stern in the direction of the dolphins. He fastened himself into the chair harness and tucked the pole handle into a cylindrical holder clamped to the deck. He was ready for some action!

  The dolphins closed to within fifty feet. They playfully dived and surfaced like performers at Sea World. They didn’t seem to have a care on their puny little mammal minds. Hal laughed.

  Well, I’ll give them something to think about once I snag the first one and start reeling that poor bastard in!

  Suddenly, the line went taut! Hal propped his feet against the stern and released more line. Let tomorrow’s dinner run for a while and really set the hook. The reel clicked as it released more and more line. The minutes ticked by.

  Time to begin reeling. Hal locked the reel and braced himself for the inevitable tug. Wham! The dolphin nearly jerked him out of the chair. Thank God he’d buckled himself in. That was one powerful dolphin!

  Hal fought the dolphin for half an hour. His leg and arm muscles were softening to putty, but he held on. Experience taught him that the prize would be his inside another fifteen to twenty minutes.

  Ten minutes later, the hooked dolphin appeared spent, and Hal reeled it in quickly. The other dolphins followed their companion to the boat as if curious about its fate. As Hal lifted his prize from the hissing waves, the other dolphins suddenly broke from their tight formation and swam off in different directions.

  Before Hal could even consider a reason for their puzzling retreat, a huge sea creature exploded from the waves, seized Hal’s prize dolphin
in its seven-foot jaws, and fell back beneath the waves. Hal heard Muffy scream behind him, but it seemed distant. He merely gawked at the broken line dangling from the end of his pole, unable to think or reason. His mind was frozen with shock.

  “Hal, baby!” she screamed from atop the cabin. “What kinda monster fish was that? A whale?”

  Hal remained silent.

  “I want to leave,” she shouted. “Now, goddammit! I’m fuckin’ scared!”

  A piercing horn rode the breeze and skimmed the waters. Muffy jerked her nude oil-slicked body toward the approaching Coast Guard cutter and waved frantically. As she bent to grab a beach towel, the sea creature burst from the Gulf again and snatched her off the upper deck with its massive jaws. The sharp teeth crunched her squirming figure flat in one motion as it crashed back into the water.

  Lieutenant Doug Darby lowered his binoculars and turned to his companion. “Did you fuckin’ see that?”

  Captain Simon Stuart kept his gaze trained on the agitated red water beside the Silverton. “I saw it.”

  “What the hell was it?”

  “It wasn’t a fish or a shark.”

  “Whale?”

  “Did you really get a good look at that thing?” Stuart snapped.

  “Well, yeah.”

  “Then how could you ask something so stupid?”

  “Okay, what do you think it was?”

  Stuart turned toward Darby. “A sea serpent.”

  Darby mulled over his superior’s identification for a moment. “They’re going to think we’re nuts — you realize that?”

  “Not really.” Stuart grinned smugly. “Jamison taped the whole incident with the nude woman from the main deck.”

  Darby glanced down. Seaman Jamison stood leaning over the rail three decks below clasping a digital camcorder.

  “They’ll think we doctored the tape,” Darby persisted.

  “Just who the hell are they?”

  “You know, the press and the general population.”

  Stuart tossed his back and laughed. “They’re not going to see the tape.”

  Darby was more than a little confused now. “Then who is?”

  “The President of the United States.”

  “No shit!” Darby’s brown eyes widened. “Why him?”

  “‘Cause he’s the only government honcho who can sanction the secret military support needed to kill that sea serpent.”

  “They’re going to kill it?”

  Stuart smiled again. “Oh yeah.”

  Darby raised his binoculars again. They were nearly alongside the Silverton.

  “Kinda makes you think that the same thing mighta happened to the Loch Ness monster,” the lieutenant remarked.

  “We gotta do what we gotta do. Can’t have the general public going ape-shit now, can we?”

  “But this is a great scientific discovery!” Darby insisted. “Our sea serpent would prove that such things really exist.”

  Stuart shook his head. “Too frightening for the average John Doe.” He paused. “The government does the same thing with UFOs, too, I hear.”

  Darby trained his gaze on Hal Watson, still mesmerized by his broken line. “What about him? He saw the thing up close and personal.”

  Stuart shrugged. “Looks like a candidate for the funny farm to me.”

  “They wouldn’t do that.”

  “And if you say anything about what you saw today to anyone outside this ship, you’ll be a candidate for the loony bin, too.”

  “What a crock!”

  “Just keep this under your hat, and you’ll have nothing to worry about.”

  “You’re serious.”

  “Very.”

  Darby considered his captain’s advice. “We’re alongside the Silverton now. Let’s go down and rescue that poor slob.”

  “And?”

  “Help him forget what he saw and remember what he didn’t,” Darby replied.

  Stuart grinned. “And what exactly did he forget?”

  “He forgot that he saw his wife slip and fall overboard. Of course, she drowned before we could get here and rescue her.”

  Stuart slapped Darby on the back. “I think you’re on to something there, Doug old boy. Let’s board the . . .” He glanced down at the Silverton’s stern. “. . . The Rum Pirate.”

  “Aye, sir.”

  Chapter 60

  Dex sprang at Jackson with cat quickness, but the psychic was even faster. Jackson rolled away, and Dex crashed to the rocky floor with a resounding smack. Jackson broke the remaining antidote ball in half, stuffed the last piece back into his pocket, and leaped on Dex’s back. Dex growled and shook Jackson from his back like a dog shedding water.

  The psychic went flying, and the ball slipped from his grasp and rolled against Teddi’s unconscious form. Dazed, Jackson sat up and massaged his forehead. Before he could recover enough to retrieve the antidote, Dex was on him, wolf-like fangs snapping inches from his face. Jackson punched the transformed countenance and tried to throw his attacker with his bucking hips, but Dex was too strong. His bullet wounds had been absorbed by an evil force and replaced by a thick black animal coat.

  Dex’s nose was now a bear snout protruding above a ferocious mouth. Jackson kept wailing away on the bony face, but he knew it was a lost cause if he couldn’t escape Dex’s increasing weight.

  Three-inch claws sprouted from Dex’s fingertips. Jackson moaned. One rake from those lethal nails would easily end the fight.

  The Dex monstrosity raised a paw above its head, roared savagely, and thrust it toward Jackson’s chest. The psychic twisted to move out of its path, but he was hopelessly pinned to the grotto floor. Jackson raised his left hand to intercept the blow, but Dex’s powerful thrust reduced his arm’s feeble resistance to that of a flaccid twig.

  The downward swipe continued toward Jackson’s heart.

  Suddenly, a gunshot rang out, and the Dex monstrosity snapped its head around in surprise. Teddi stood behind it, her handgun barrel raised level with its face, and fired again. A surreal wail swelled throughout the grotto as it frantically clutched its face. Jackson scooted out from between its thick legs and searched for the antidote. It was rolling awkwardly toward the lake!

  Jackson leaped up, dived for the shoreline with his arms extended, and plucked it from the water’s edge. His momentum pushed him into the shallows, and he squeezed the wax-like ball for all he was worth to keep it dry.

  When he finally stopped skidding, he attempted to stand, but a strong force bumped him hard from behind. He flew out of the water and into the air toward the tunnel entrance. He landed directly at the monster’s feet. Jackson glanced nervously at the lake, but whatever had propelled him out of the water had vanished. He glanced up. Dex now stood eight feet tall!

  The creature bent and lifted Jackson off the ground like he was a rag doll. The razor claws punctured his back, and he felt blood rivulets trickle down his flesh. A brutal pain erupted, and Jackson screamed.

  Why wasn’t the damn thing dead? Teddi shot it point blank in the face.

  He saw that she had retreated from its lethal reach, and she now targeted the creature’s spine. Another gun blast. It arched its back and roared its agony.

  Jackson quickly shoved his fist into its open mouth and deposited the antidote under its tongue. Immediately, Dex’s bear body shuddered from a tumultuous seizure. Jackson felt its grip loosen, and he plummeted to the floor. He yelled out in pain as he landed on his hip and shoulder. Again.

  Abruptly, the pain vanished, and Jackson suddenly felt like a million bucks. His spent strength returned, and he leaped to his feet like a nimble gymnast. Teddi eyed him suspiciously, slowly pointing the gun barrel in his direction.

  What was she doing?

  Then he knew.

  Yokie had been very wise. Either that, or he’d seen more of that vision than Jackson.

  He slipped his hand into his shirt and stuffed the remainder of the antidote beneath his own tongue, while he still had
control over his actions.

  His strength ebbed, and the pain in his back, shoulder, and hip throbbed unmercifully.

  A black mist rose from within Jackson’s body like a black soul. It spun into a wispy funnel cloud and approached Teddi and Dex again. But it didn’t enter. Couldn’t enter. The funnel spun tighter and drifted out over the lake. Within seconds, it dissipated.

  Teddi ran to Jackson and pulled him to his feet.

  “We’ve got to get out of here before it comes back,” she cried.

  Jackson slung an arm around her shoulders and pulled her tight. “It’s not coming back. We’re immune to it.”

  She blinked. “How? I mean, why?”

  “There’ll be time to explain later. Now let’s see to Dex. He’s in bad shape.”

  “Dex?” She turned to see the sheriff stretched out on the shore, the shredded remnants of his uniform clinging to him. “I shot him! I remember now.” Tears welled in her eyes.

  “That thing wasn’t Dex.”

  “But I see bullet wounds.”

  “Uh, that’s when you shot him earlier tonight.”

  She burst out in tears. “I don’t understand any of this,” she screamed. “When did I recover from my coma? Can you answer that?”

  Jackson hugged her tightly and kissed her forehead. “All in good time. Just be patient.”

  Teddi wasn’t satisfied with his reply, but she helped Jackson pull Dex to his feet.

  “My patience only lasts so long,” she told Jackson.

  He nodded.

  Dex glanced at them, and then scowled at Jackson. “Just what the Sam Hill happened to me? And why was Teddi shootin’ at me again?”

  “Let’s just say you weren’t your normal self at the time.”

  He appraised Jackson skeptically. “Oh yeah. Then what was I?”

  “A real pain in the ass,” Jackson replied. “Now I’d like to take a look at that temple you found.”

  “Well, I just want to get the blazes outta here and have somebody clean and dress these wounds,” the sheriff protested.