Jason Willow: Face Your Demons

by G Mottram

  ‘You should not think badly of your father. I have tried to forget that life as well… living in a walled village, protected by armed guards, my mother and father disappearing for days or weeks at a time to ‘work’ and then coming back exhausted, often injured and their eyes still filled with horror.’

  Louisa paused for a moment, dropping her gaze and absently digging with a twig into the rich, dark loam of the forest floor. ‘One day, only my mother came back - I remember ripped clothing, bloody slashes all over her body. She could hardly stand. She told me my father had been killed… both of Mouse’s parents as well and many more. Shortly afterwards, we left for England. We brought Mouse with us and we were… relocated here by Alan Brash. Soon after that I started to develop my gifts – my childhood, such as it had been, was over.’

  They didn’t say anything for a short while. Jason knew how she must have felt, losing one of her parents. He didn’t want to think about that. Mum’s murder was still too close. He guessed Louisa didn’t want to dwell on her loss either.

  Finally, he broke the silence.

  ‘Have you learned how to use your powers? What sort of things can you do?’

  Louisa smiled a little then, shaking her head. ‘Boys and their toys. I am afraid I am not very powerful… did your father explain about the Gift passing down from mother to daughter, father to son, becoming stronger each time… about the Triple Six and so on?’

  ‘No – he said Miranda wouldn’t have any powers but that’s about it.’

  ‘Then I shouldn’t really say any more.’

  ‘It can’t do any harm, can it?’ Jason said. ‘I mean, I already know about the Gift – that’s the main thing.’

  Louisa thought for a moment then nodded. ‘There are three Orders, you might call them stages, of power. Each generation of the same family goes up a step in the order, so if your father was level one, you would become level two.’

  ‘So I’ll have stronger magic than my Dad?’

  ‘It is not magic,’ Louisa said, ‘there are none of your Harry Potter spells and potions.’

  ‘Yeah – sorry, I know that.’

  ‘Good. Louisa shook her head. ‘Now can your small brain cope with any more today?’

  ‘Go on, try me.’

  She nodded. ‘It takes six generations to pass through each Order. Then the step from step 6 in the first order to step 1 in the second order is a very large leap of power and ability. Do you understand?’

  ‘Yeah – I think I can cope. So the highest you can be is…’

  ‘… third order, sixth generation – we’d call that person a 6,6,6 – a triple six. Such a person is more powerfully Gifted than I can ever imagine.’

  ‘Great – 666 - all very demonic. So what happens after with a triple six’s kids… nobody gets any powers?’

  ‘The Gift switches gender, from a Gifted mother to her first born male child or from a Gifted father to his first born, female child.’

  ‘Why?’

  Louisa shook her head. ‘We don’t know. Perhaps it is to prevent any one family from becoming too powerful.’

  ‘Ok. So what… order thing are you?’

  Irritation flashed across Louisa’s face for a second and then it softened.

  ‘You do not know… it is fine. We do not discuss our generations or bloodlines. If the Brethren knew who were the most powerfully Gifted they could concentrate all their forces on hunting them down.’

  ‘Oh – sorry I…’

  Louisa suddenly held up her hand. ‘Quiet.’

  Somewhere, close by, a twig snapped. Jason and Louisa slowly stood up and peered around the great oak she’d been leaning against to look back down the hill.

  A thinly bearded man, tall and gaunt, was trudging up the hill towards them. Even though he was probably only in his fifties, he walked with a thick stick, limping on his right leg. The loose grey trousers and shabby open shirt hanging off him added a decade or so to his appearance.

  The man was only ten metres away and making a lot of noise as he hobbled along. Why hadn’t they heard anything before he got so close? Jason stepped forward a little, just in front of Louisa. She immediately moved to stand next to him again.

  ‘Ah – I am sorry to have disturbed you. It has been a long time since I was courting.’

  His accent was foreign, similar to Mouse and Louisa’s – Eastern European or Russian or something. The man didn’t look dangerous, but then again, neither did the agent in Mawn.

  Jason glanced around - this whole area was meant to be patrolled by Alan Brash’s highly trained security forces and littered with hidden cameras.

  He whispered to Louisa, not taking his eyes from the man. ‘I think we should go… now.’

  The man stopped just then, leaning heavily on his stick and catching his breath.

  ‘Please do not be afraid - I know you are warned about talking to strangers in the woods but I am not a stranger, not really. My name is Marakoff.’

  ‘We really have to go,’ Jason said. ‘Come on.’ he whispered to Louisa.

  ‘Excuse us Mr… Marakoff,’ Louisa said, giving Jason an annoyed look.

  Marakoff smiled, lifting his face to reveal green eyes twinkling with unexpected life in the leaf-dappled sunlight. He raised his stick-free hand in farewell.

  ‘Ah, it is better to be safe than sorry, yes? I expect we will meet again, however.’

  The two of them nodded and backed away. Marakoff waved again and limped off in the opposite direction. Very soon he was out of sight, lost amongst the trees.

  ‘You are very cautious, Jason’ Louisa said as they began jogging down the forested valley side.

  Jason kept moving, Louisa easily keeping pace with him. Between breaths, he told her a shortened account of the attack on Mawn. By the time he’d finished they’d circled around towards the old forest road leading back towards the bridge.

  ‘You are right to be so careful...’ Louisa said, ‘but this time I think there is no need. This man, Marakoff - I suspect he may have slipped passed Brash’s guards and cameras, but he is one of us, I think.

  ‘What do you mean, one of us? And how could he have just slipped past all the security?’ Jason asked.

  ‘It is not important just now. Look, we are here.’

  They stepped onto the road a few metres from the bridge. Jason stared back into the woods, the leafy avenues dimming in the evening twilight. What if this Marakoff had followed them? Suddenly Jason felt Louisa’s soft lips brush his cheek.

  ‘I have to go, Jason – I should tell my mother about our Mr Marakoff. I have enjoyed our talk together… thank you.’

  Louisa started towards the bridge.

  ‘Wait, I’ll walk you home… that bloke…’

  Louisa looked back at him over her shoulder and winked. ‘I will be fine, thank you. See you very soon.’ Then she was across the bridge and turning out of sight.

  Jason shook his head. Girls! What did that kiss and her flirty little wink mean? What did Louisa really think of him?

  And why did she seem to think that guy, Marakoff, was okay?

  Enough for one day. His head buzzing, Jason ambled across the bridge towards home.

  ***

  Two minutes after Jason walked into the Old Mill, the phone rang. It was Louisa – could she come over, with Mouse and her mother?

  Dad was in the kitchen, putting the kettle on as usual and Miranda was testing out some chocolate cake at the table.

  ‘Sure, see you in a minute,’ Jason said and put the phone down.

  ‘You’d better fill the kettle a bit more, Dad,’ Jason called through to the kitchen from the phone table in the hall, ‘Louisa’s coming over with Mouse and… her mother.’

  Dad hesitated for a moment, took a slow breath then nodded, still with his back to Jason. He calmly filled the kettle with more water and dug out some more side-plates. Then he turned to face them.

  ‘It’s only fair to tell you two that I knew Louisa’s mother a long time ago – h
er name is Ilena. She’s the woman we saw looking in on our first day here.’

  Miranda had forgotten her cake completely and was looking at Dad like some hungry cat about to pounce on a carelessly twittering bird.

  ‘Why haven’t either of you “old friends” called around to see each other yet?’

  Dad’s face was impassive. ‘It’s been over twenty years since we last spoke. Ilena and I worked together for a long time and we were very close once. After I… left that life, the last I heard was that Ilena had married a mutual friend. It was a bit of a shock finding out she was here.’

  Miranda frowned. ‘Wouldn’t Alan Brash have known you two were… friends? Didn’t he say anything to you?’

  Dad’s eyes flashed. ‘Oh he would have known but Alan likes to play his own little games.’

  ‘Louisa says they don’t like Brash much either,’ Jason said.

  ‘Mmm,’ Dad said, ‘I can imagine. Brash was always very fond of Ilena, though.’

  Miranda smiled. ‘Things must have been interesting back then, when you and this Ilena were ‘very close’ and Brash fancied her… and who’s this mutual friend she married?’

  ‘It doesn’t matter right now,’ Dad said. ‘Now go tidy up the drawing room a bit while I make a fresh pot.’

  ‘He was killed,’ Jason whispered as he and Miranda crossed the hall towards the long corridor, ‘Louisa’s dad. That’s why they moved here.’

  Miranda nodded but didn’t reply.

  The drawing room wasn’t too bad, probably because Miranda had been assigned house-keeping duties as she wasn’t re-starting school until September. They were half way through stacking up the two-day old Sunday papers when the doorbell clanged.

  Jason peered along the corridor, through the hall and into the kitchen. Dad was making no move to answer the door but was keeping extremely busy stacking cups and plates on to a tray.

  ‘I’ll get it then, shall I?’ Jason called, already halfway to the door.

  Dad didn’t reply. Jason ran his fingers through his hair, turned the iron door ring and heaved the heavy oak open.

  ‘Hi, come in.’

  ‘Thank you, Jason,’ said a woman who was Louisa’s spitting image with perhaps a couple more decades or so of sophistication added on. Ilena Russof stood as tall and elegant as her daughter, wearing close fitting black trousers and a floaty white blouse. She smiled but it was a little too tight to be relaxed and her eyes darted around the hall, taking everything in.

  Jason stuck out an awkward hand towards the drawing room. ‘Hi… pleased to meet you. Come in and have a seat. Dad’s just making some tea.’

  Mrs Russof seemed to steel herself before stepping inside. She started down the long corridor without looking left into the kitchen.

  ‘Such a bright and cheerful hallway,’ Mouse muttered, looking around the dead animal heads rapidly falling into shadow with the setting of the sun.

  ‘Come on,’ Louisa whispered to Jason, taking his arm and following her mother towards the drawing room, ‘this will be… interesting.’

  With Louisa’s hand draped lightly around his arm, Jason’s mind instantly froze in panic. Then Miranda appeared at the drawing room door. Her eyes flicked over Louisa walking arm in arm with her brother then settled on Mrs Russof.

  Mrs Russof slowed to a halt. ‘You must be Miranda,’ she said, ‘how lovely you are. Your mother must have been beautiful, indeed.’

  Miranda dropped her gaze. ‘Thank you,’ she said quietly, ‘she was. Please take a seat.’

  Mrs Russof nodded and took one of the high backed chairs by the fireplace. Louisa slipped her arm out of Jason’s and took the other while, bringing up the rear, Mouse plonked himself down on the sofa.

  Jason stayed by the door, unnecessarily holding it open as, down the hallway, Dad came out of the kitchen with his tea tray.

  Mrs Russof seemed to stiffen with each footstep. Finally she stood up out of her chair, just as Dad entered the room.

  ‘Hello, Richard,’ she said. Her eyes flicked over Dad, taking in every detail then fixed on his face. A small smile wavered on her lips.

  Dad stared straight at her, holding her gaze, his face unreadable, the heavily laden tray rock steady in his hands. ‘It’s good to see you safe, Ilena. I am so sorry about Ivan - he was a good man, a good friend. You must have been…’

  ‘… angry.’ Mrs Russof walked a few steps towards Dad, her smile a bit firmer.

  Dad stared back into her eyes. ‘I’m sorry I wasn’t there… perhaps I…’

  ‘You’re not to blame, Richard… no one is.’ She stopped an arm’s length away, looking up at him. Dad was perfectly still.

  ‘If our teams had been assigned together…’ Dad began, keeping his voice flat.

  ‘There is no telling if you would even have been on that mission and besides…’ she glanced back at Louisa, ‘… a lot of other things might have been different if you had stayed.’

  She reached out and lightly touched Dad’s cheek then turned to face the three teenagers.

  ‘I’d like you to meet my daughter, Louisa, and Mihail Muskowicz, a close family friend who now lives with us.’

  Dad nodded and attempted a smile. He seemed unable or unwilling to speak for the moment.

  Mrs Russof carried on. ‘And now I think we should all talk… perhaps over this lovely tea Richard has prepared.’ She turned back to Dad who nodded.

  Mrs Russof sat back down on her chair and Jason and Miranda sandwiched Mouse on the sofa after pulling up a spare chair for Dad. As Dad poured the tea and offered biscuits around, Mrs Russof began to talk.

  ‘I must apologise Richard. I really did mean to wait until you were ready to meet with us but Louisa gave me some news this evening. A man named Marakoff is here – from her description it is the same Marakoff who…’

  ‘… worked closely with my father – the ghost?’ Dad cut in.

  ‘Yes. Louisa said he walks with a heavy limp – perhaps he is here to be relocated by Brash.’

  ‘I doubt it,’ Dad said, ‘none of my father’s team would go anywhere near Alan Brash.’

  ‘So why do you think he is here? Because of you perhaps…?’ Mrs Russof asked.

  ‘There’s not a lot of point guessing, is there?’ Dad said a little sharply. ‘He’ll find us when he wants to talk.’

  Mrs Russof nodded once and sipped at her tea. Louisa flashed Jason a look and raised her eyebrows.

  ‘So,’ Dad said after a few moments of silence, ‘how is life under Alan Brash’s… tender care?

  Mrs Russof sipped her tea before answering. ‘He no longer has the Council to… moderate his behaviour. He tries to control everything in his valley.’

  ‘It was much worse in Darkston Village,’ Louisa said.

  ‘Which is why,’ Mrs Russof added, ‘I demanded that we be allowed to move here after just a few months. We were being… protected too closely.’

  Dad nodded. ‘What’s he up to? Do you know how many of us he has gathered here? I thought his job was to help scatter the majority of them over the country, help them disappear into a normal life. Instead he seems to be forming one huge enclave of his own.’

  Mrs Russof nodded. ‘I do not know the exact numbers, Richard, but there are many Watch families living in Darkston village and Brash has perhaps a hundred or more of them guarding and training in his abbey – including some Gifted.’

  ‘So they’ve hardly left the Watch at all?’ Dad said.

  ‘Those who I talked to before moving out of the village all seemed happy to be there.’ Mrs Russof shrugged her slim shoulders. ‘They’re safe and Brash provides everything they need – a home, work, entertainment, high wages.’

  ‘They should not have left the Watch,’ Mouse suddenly said. He was staring into his tea cup, his face set. ‘There are many things I do not trust about Alan Brash but he is right to prepare as many soldiers and Gifted as he can. In two years, when I am old enough, I will return to Romania, to the Watch. We all should do this
- they need our help. The fight there is worse than anyone living can remember.’

  ‘I am going back there too,’ Louisa said. ‘I am not powerfully Gifted but I will do what I can.’

  ‘Nice that you have the choice,’ Jason mumbled.

  Dad cast him a warning glance.

  Mouse looked up from his cup at Jason. ‘You should be trained - there is no doubt of this. The Watch cannot afford to be without someone of your power,’ He turned to Dad, his eyes defiant. ‘My parents died because there were too few powerfully Gifted with them on their last raid…’

  ‘Mihail - that is enough.’ Mrs Russof stared hard at him. ‘You have no right to…’

  ‘It’s all right, Ilena,’ Dad cut in, returning Mouse’s stare coolly. ‘I know it must all seem black and white to you, Michael - train, kill all the Brethren, Touched and possessed. But you must know that the Touched have no free will and the possessed… from the tiniest corner of their mind, they can see themselves killing their own families, tearing the bodies apart, eating their flesh, drinking their blood. Would you still want to cut the head off a child to get to the demon inside?’

  ‘So you are saying we should not fight them?’ Louisa asked, shaking her head, ‘just let them multiply - in the end have us all just as food?’

  ‘No,’ Dad said, as calm as ever, ‘ but I am saying it’s not a fight I would want anyone to be forced into.’

  Jason straightened up. ‘But we should be given the choice. They killed Mum right in front of me, Dad – they would have killed Miranda as well. I’ve been running from them all my life – I want to stand and fight… they deserve to pay. I want you to teach me how to use my… my Gift.’

  ‘You know I won’t do that,’ Dad said quietly.

  ‘Then Alan Brash will.’ Jason answered quietly.

  No one spoke for long moments. Dad held Jason’s eyes until Jason turned away in exasperation.

  The Mrs Russof broke the silence. ‘I agree that you should have the choice, Jason and the Watch are desperate for Gifted of your potential strength.’ She glanced at Dad then continued. ‘But Alan Brash should not be the one to train you. He is highly Gifted but many of us believed he… enjoyed his work too much. With him, the end result was the only thing that mattered. People were just tools for him to use. We do not know why he was stopped from hunting and sent here to relocate families but it would have been for something very serious. The Watch cannot easily afford to lose someone of his power.’