Demon (The Mike Rawlins Series Book 1)

by Bernard Lee DeLeo

  “Wow, I guess you’re serious about this,” Laura said.

  “If nothing happens, we can laugh about it.” Mike set the remaining bags of salt and two bottles of holy water inside the plastic grocery bag near the circle’s center.

  “Who wants to go down into the cellar?” Jerry called out. “I found the doorway that leads down and the steps look okay.”

  Mike went with the others to what looked like an attached kitchen with dilapidated cupboards and old style pump sink. Webs formed mats of filmy coverings over everything.

  “Anyone else hate spiders as much as I do?” Connie avoided touching anything. She screamed as Stan brushed his fingertips over her neck. “Don’t… don’t do that!”

  “I’ll go with you,” Stan told Jerry.

  “Have fun, you two. It smells like dead bodies down there.” Janice pushed Stan toward Jerry. “Don’t bother screaming if you find anything ‘cause we’ll leave your asses.”

  “Let me go first.” Mike moved around Laura. “My cousin and I did go down there when it was still light. There’s a sinkhole on the left around the stairwell. That’s why it stinks. It’s filled with stagnant water.”

  “Mike?” Laura missed his nearness already. Jerry handed Mike his flashlight.

  “Remember the circle, Laura.” Mike cautioned. “Take the others and get inside it without breaking the perimeter.”

  “I thought you were afraid of all this,” Stan remarked as the teens descended the stairs slowly, staying clear of the cobwebs making a shimmering tunnel into the dank area below.

  “I am, but I don’t want either of you to fall into that sinkhole.” Mike tried to keep his voice from shaking as his heart thumped so hard in his chest he thought for sure Jerry and Stan would notice.

  “What do you care?” Stan chuckled. “You could get a laugh out of it.”

  “The smell,” Mike glanced over his shoulder at Stan. “That sinkhole smells so bad I haven’t forgotten it in three years. My cousin and I made the mistake of stirring it with a stick. We nearly passed out into it.”

  “Good safety point… no stirring.” Jerry’s stomach knotted up as they neared the stair bottom.

  Mike reached the stone and dirt cellar floor, moving to the right so Stan and Jerry could stand beside him. Mike swung his flashlight to the left and down, illuminating a black pit formed where the dirt and gravel floor had sunk, leaving a gaping maw of black water nearly eight feet in diameter. Even the algae on the surface appeared black in the flashlight beams.

  Jerry leaned away from the pool, his face a mask of distaste. “Man… one gulp of that shit would turn someone inside out.”

  “There’s not much down here.” Mike swung his flashlight around the other half of the room.

  They could see empty rotted shelving along the wall. Two rusted out buckets lay sideways in front of the shelves. Cobwebs and more cobwebs flowed in an unbroken tapestry.

  “Hey, what’s that?” Stan pointed his beam at a round metal hatch cover with large rusted ring for a handle.

  “I don’t know. We stirred the sinkhole before we explored,” Mike admitted. “That ended our curiosity. The swirling debris when we ran up the stairs from here scared the crap out of us and we made a run for our bikes. It probably opens into another sinkhole.”

  “I’m going to pull open the hatch,” Stan stated. “Hold my flashlight, Jer.”

  Mike grabbed Stan’s arm and held out a red bandanna. “Wrap the handle with this.”

  “Thanks,” Stan took the bandanna and wrapped the metal handle. He grasped the handle, ready to pull up.

  “Hey! Come back up here you guys,” Connie yelled.

  “Shit!” Stan exclaimed. All three had jumped at the sound of Connie’s voice. “We’ll be up in a minute… damn it!”

  Stan yanked on the handle. The loose cover came up easily. Stan staggered backwards, grabbing his nose, allowing the lid to thump down onto the dirt floor. Ignoring the noxious fumes billowing out from the open hole, Mike grabbed Stan’s arm before the teen backed into the open sinkhole.

  “Oh my God!” Stan yelled, his eyes watering uncontrollably as Mike pulled him to the side and Jerry retreated to the stairwell. “What… what is that, poison gas?”

  Mike covered his mouth and nose with one hand while pointing his flashlight down beyond the hatch with the other. Luminous masses swirled inside what looked like an empty tank made over into some kind of room with a rusty metal ladder providing access. Mike’s eyes widened as the faceless mass moved up the ladder. He held his breath and yanked the cover into place again. Mike grabbed Stan and pulled him toward the stairwell.

  “We have to go… now!” Mike yelled.

  Jerry ran up the stairs without another word. As Mike hurried the still gagging Stan to the stair, the metal hatch flew open, tore free of its mooring and slammed into the wall perpendicular to the stairwell. Stan needed no more encouragement. He bounded blindly up the stairs with Mike trying to steady his assent.

  “Get in the circle!” Mike ordered repeatedly as he and Stan cleared the doorway. Mike slammed the cellar door shut.

  Laura had urged Connie and Janice toward the circle the moment Stan yelled after opening the hatch. She guided them beyond the salt base without breaking the pasty line. Jerry followed on her heels. Mike helped Stan across seconds later. They heard the cellar door slam open. Mike frantically checked his circle with Connie screaming at the top of her lungs and Janice facing Stan.

  “What the hell did you guys do?” Janice barked in Stan’s face loudly enough to be heard above Connie’s screaming and the appalling shrieks echoing through the house.

  “Oh God… Mike… look!” Laura shook Mike’s shoulder as a luminescent wave crashed into their circle perimeter; smashing apart with a screech of rage loud enough the teens grabbed their ears in agony.

  “Don’t break the circle!” Mike added salt to his line. “Stay in the center!”

  Mike straightened, his mind groping for something to help them withstand the thing launching itself against the circle. Mike turned toward the other teens. His lips quivered between terror and insanity, trying to show courage he didn’t feel. The terrified faces staring back at him told their own tale. He could see his companions were ready to run. Laura gripped his arm with both hands as if expecting him to know what their next move should be. Mike put his arm around her shoulders. He knew if they could stay in the circle without breaking the holy water/salt barrier they had a chance. Connie piled into them with Janice joining a split second later. Mike held steady. Jerry and Stan traded bleary eyed stares. They too huddled with their friends, trying to stay away from the circle. The apparition’s shrieking rushes at the circle could not be ignored for long. Seeing his group hug ploy had only bought a little time, Mike motioned for them all to sit down facing each other in a circle and clasp hands. Connie jumped up sobbing piteously after only minutes.

  “I…I can’t take this. I’ll make… make a run for it!”

  “Don’t Connie!” Laura hugged her friend. “Keep your eyes shut and your hands over your ears while I hold you.”

  Janice screamed. The teens faced the thing held at bay by salt paste. Its bare skull face sported gaping fangs. The thing peered in at them with eerie intent, shimmering body flowing out in a phosphorescent wave behind it. Mike grabbed a handful of salt and threw it at the skull-face. The granules glowed as they struck; sending the apparition streaking out of harm’s way. It returned only seconds later, grinding its jaws together in fury. Jerry reached for more salt. Mike stopped him.

  “I was trying to see how much time it would buy us,” Mike told him. “Let’s not waste what we have.”

  “Jesus…” Laura whispered. The skull-face began gibbering in high pitched wails. The fangs and teeth slammed together in rhythm with the wails.

  As they all stared in silence at the ghastly monster within feet of them, something shot through the door and bounded into the living room. With a growl the new arrival dived right throu
gh the apparition, jaws ripping at thin air.

  “It’s a damn dog,” Stan gasped.

  The emaciated mixed breed mutt herded the apparition as if it were a sheep, snapping and growling without fear until inexplicably the monster disappeared. The dog whirled around as if anticipating an attack which didn’t come. The mutt sat down, staring curiously into the circle of stunned people.

  “What is it… a hellhound?” Janice asked.

  Mike poured some holy water into his hand and held it out. The dog padded over and lapped up the water thirstily with Mike adding more every few seconds.

  “I guess it ain’t a demon,” Janice said. “I say we make a run for it.”

  “Don’t run.” Mike offered more water to their rescuer. “Grab handfuls of salt. Walk out slowly. Me and Demon here will follow.”

  Laura knelt next to the dog while the others followed Mike’s orders. She stroked its head. “I’ll stay with you.”

  Connie sat behind the Buick steering wheel with the engine running, her hands clenched so tightly they glowed whitely in the dark. Janice sat next to her, watching the path anxiously. Mike, Laura, and the dog ambled out of the dark only moments later. Stan and Jerry had waited by the front end of the car. They visibly relaxed as the remainder of their group walked toward them.

  “Stan, can you get me the bag of sandwiches and a few of the beers?” Mike asked, crouching down next to the dog.

  “You bet, Mike.” Stan ran to the trunk which Connie unlatched from inside. He returned with the bag and beers, handing them over to Mike.

  Mike opened a sandwich wrapper and began feeding the dog. The mutt shuddered and shivered in ecstasy, tail wagging so fast it was dangerous to walk within its range. Mike looked up with a big smile.

  “You all go on home. I’ll see if Demon will accompany me to my house. We’ll walk.”

  “You’re nuts!” Jerry laughed, shaking his head. “We’ll fit the dog in the back.”

  “No you won’t!” Connie called out.

  “What if that thing comes out again?” Stan realized Mike was serious.

  “I have Demon with me. What the hell do I have to worry about?”

  Stan chuckled and held out his hand. “See ya’ in school.”

  “You bet,” Mike shook Stan’s hand and then Jerry’s. A bond had been formed.

  “C’mon, Laura! Get the hell in the back and let’s go!” Connie waved at Laura impatiently.

  “I’m walking with Mike and Demon,” Laura replied, waving goodbye.

  Connie reversed the Buick and turned around the moment Stan and Jerry closed their doors.

  Mike held out a beer he’d opened between food offerings to Demon. “Beer?”

  “Oh yeah,” Laura accepted the can. She gulped down a little in obvious distaste.

  “It gets better with every sip.” Mike patted his leg for Demon to come along.

  “Are you sure?” Laura asked doubtfully as the three walked along the moonlit path.

  “Nope,” Mike declared, opening his and offering handfuls to Demon first. The dog lapped the beer up with gusto. “This is my first.”

  Laura laughed at the cough and twisted expression Mike had as a reaction to his first taste of beer.

  “Oh boy…” Mike gagged, “that sure hit the spot, right Demon?”

  “Arf!” Demon answered.

  Chapter 2

  The Hanging Tree

  Mike maneuvered the last wheel into place on a 2000 Ford E350 van brake job. He glanced down at Demon lying on a piece of cardboard near the wall in front of the van. In the year he’d had the dog, Demon never left his side unless forced to. Since he never bothered any of the customers, Mike’s Dad allowed the dog in his shop whenever Mike worked after school and on weekends. Demon sat up as if sensing Mike’s scrutiny. The vet thought Demon was an Australian Sheppard/Labrador Retriever mix about two years old. The dog’s now well groomed mottled black coat shone under the lights and one ear shot up straight while the other half flopped as Demon cocked his head attentively.

  “You plannin’ on finishing the van or staring at that damn mutt?”

  Mike chuckled at his Father, Dan’s gruff voice. He turned around to face him. “I’m buttoning up the wheels now, Dad.”

  The older, heavier, and slightly shorter version of Mike wiped his hands on a shop towel. He walked up next to Mike with a wide grin on his face. “Since you put in a full day on Friday during that goofy teacher no work day at school, take off after you test drive it, Mike. It’s Halloween again and Demon’s first anniversary. You have any plans?”

  “You mean like take him out to dinner and dancing?”

  Dan chuckled appreciatively. “I meant are you and Demon going out ghost hunting anywhere in remembrance of nearly ending up in the morgue last Halloween? I still get laughed at whenever I tell anyone how you acquired Darth Dog over there. You didn’t gin up that tale just so I wouldn’t make you get rid of him, did you?”

  Mike’s features took on a more somber aspect. He shook his head. “It happened like I told you. In answer to your question I think me and Demon will stay home tonight and pass out candy. You think Demon would mind if I put a red cape and a funny hat on him?”

  Demon growled. A low throaty hum coupled with his upper body hunching down threateningly. Mike and his Father laughed at the enraged dog. Mike patted his leg and Demon ran over with his tail whipping back and forth at high speed.

  “I swear to God that goofy dog understands English better than your sister.”

  Mike covered Demon’s ears, looking reproachfully up at his Dad. “Don’t listen Demon. Joanie does too know more language.”

  “Demon comes when he’s called and reacts to every subject regarding anything having to do with him. Joanie, on the other hand, needs to be bopped in the head even when we’re trying to get her attention at the dinner table. Explain that, wise-guy.”

  “She’s fourteen, Dad.” Mike continued stroking Demon’s head while shaking each paw the dog alternated in putting into his hand. “Joanie’s having the usual first year of high school assimilation troubles.”

  “Well look at you – all grown up and spittin’ out words like assimilation.” His Dad clasped hands in prayerful form while exaggerating a look of reverence. He pretended a credible all choked up look. “We… we’re so proud.” Letting his hands drop to his sides and straightening as his act drew laughter from Mike he continued on. “I’m forbidding anymore playing of the puberty card from you and your Mom on Joanie’s behalf. You enablers will have to learn some self discipline too.”

  “Enablers? How about what I put you through my first year? Both you and Mom ended up down at the school for three days running and had to get me a lawyer.”

  “The assholes had it coming!” His Dad’s face lost all joviality. His voice reflected it. “Those three guys were trying to shove you into a drainage ditch. That wasn’t any hazing prank. I should have-”

  “Calm down, Dad,” Mike urged, standing up with his hands held out in placating form. Demon sat at attention next to him with a short bark as if emphasizing Mike’s entreaty. “My point was you believed me, even though until the cops finally leaned on Tim Pasquale hard enough to get the truth, it was my word against the three I injured. Joanie might need a little understanding until she gets used to high school. Her grades are good.”

  “Hey Dan! Can you come over here for a moment?” A voice belonging to one of the older mechanics called out to Mike’s Father.

  “Be there in a couple minutes!” Dan replied over his shoulder. He gripped his son’s upper arm. “How in hell did you get to be sixteen goin’ on forty, kid? Sometimes you say things that make me think your Mom was foolin’ around with the mailman and you can’t be my son.”

  Mike laughed. “Oh I am so going to tell Mom.”

  “Not if you ever want to be seventeen. Speaking of last Halloween whatever happened to that good lookin’ redhead you had over to the house last year?”

  Mike shrugged. He hate
d when anything reminded him of Laura and her image popped into his head, complete with accompanying ache. “She remembered she was a junior and I was a sophomore. No big deal.”

  “Yeah, uh huh. I know that look, kid. I wore it when your Mom was raking my ass over the coals back in the day. You fell hard and came up short. Put it behind you.”

  “You didn’t put Mom behind you.”

  “I’m a cement-head.”

  “Dan!”

  “Gotta’ go help Ralphy before he costs me overtime. It’s Saturday. Test drive the van and then go have some fun. You need any money?”

  “I’m good. I’ll see you later. Thanks Dad.”

  “Stay out of the haunted houses, kid, and away from the redheads,” Dan admonished as he walked over to help his other mechanic.

  “Will do.” Mike looked down at Demon. The dog regarded him with interest, expecting some pearl of wisdom or direction from his human connection. Mike deciphered it that way for his own sense of reality. “I got nothin’.”

  “Arf.” Demon agreed.

  * * *

  Mike walked over the rain dampened sidewalk toward his house with Demon prancing a step behind him. The dog intuitively acted as if he had been trained for a circus act, amazing the Rawlins family at every turn since Mike adopted him. Mike chuckled remembering the incident last week when Demon carried his empty water dish into the living room and threw it down in front of Mike and his sister. The seemingly endless nuances Demon displayed when people talked as he had done in front of Mike and Dan, amused everyone coming into contact with the dog. Although from experience Mike knew Demon could fight with terrifying skill, the dog never reacted aggressively toward humans or other four legged creatures. His Mom’s calico cat Patches slept sprawled out against Demon at every opportunity.

  “Arf.”

  Mike glanced around at Demon and saw Jerry slowing his Toyota Corolla next to him with Stan in the passenger seat. Mike watched the car draw closer before popping his left hand up alongside his face, blocking out the sight of Jerry’s vehicle. He heard immediate laughter.