Jason Willow: Face Your Demons

by G Mottram

  Jason air punched at Brash but Anna leapt in front of her father and took the blow. She crashed to the ground, clutching her ribs.

  ‘No,’ Jason yelled and snapped a second punch at Brash.

  ‘Don’t knock him out,’ Dad shouted.

  Too late. Brash’s head and body jolted backwards and he thudded down onto the floorboards, unconscious.

  That must have been what Violet had been waiting for. Garbed from head to toe in her sun-screening, hooded black boiler suit and gloves, she dropped down through the hatch above like a screaming banshee and landed over her unconscious summoner.

  Coughing up blood, Anna scrambled across the floor to protect her father but Violet slapped her into the wall with a sickening crunch.

  ‘Security is here,’ Marakoff shouted from the door and began firing outside.

  ‘Miranda – help Marakoff,’ Dad ordered and stepped over to stand next to Jason – both of them facing Violet.

  She’d pulled the insensible Brash into the shadows and was squatting on his chest, holding his mouth wide open. A dark mist burst out from her hooded face and streamed towards her summoner.

  Dad lashed out a double air-punch. Violet span off Brash but she rolled easily onto all fours with the dark mist broiling back down her throat.

  From the depths of her hood, Violet’s eyes flared red and she leapt for Dad

  As fast as thought, Dad’s Katana hissed out of its sheath and sang through the air for Violet’s throat.

  The razor-sharp blade sank deep into an air brick an inch from Violet’s neck as Dad dodged to one side just in time to let Violet fly passed him. She span in mid-air and landed in a crouch, her lips snarling back over gleaming white fangs.

  Jason stood with his right arm outstretched forming the air brick which still held Dad’s Katana.

  ‘You can’t kill her, Dad,’ Jason shouted, ‘find a way to save her.’

  Miranda’s Kalashnikov rattled out deadly chaos across the lawn outside while Marakoff picked off targets on single-shot mode.

  Violet hadn’t moved. Her whole body shook and her face contorted through a spectrum of hatred and pain.

  ‘Violet’s fighting for control,’ Dad whispered, ‘I’ll try to help her but I’m nearly spent.’

  Jason released the Katana just as the demon won back control over Violet. She threw back her head and a hundred screeching voices burst from her mouth in exultation.

  Dad cupped both hands and caught her in a shimmering bubble just like he’d done with Nazahirim at the abbey. Violet screamed, twisted and writhed against the translucent wall and punched the side of her prison.

  Her fist burst through the air wall. Violet froze in amazement for one moment then, with a savage yell, she started to push her head through the weakening barrier.

  ‘I can’t hold her, Jason,’ Dad hissed, ‘Grab my shoulders from behind and push your Gift into me.’

  ‘What?’ Jason gasped, shoving his pistol in its holster and grabbing Dad’s shoulders. Violet had head and torso were out now and a grotesque grin split half her face.

  ‘Focus on sending your Gift through me as if I was just part of your arms – I’ll do the rest. Dad yelled. ‘Do it now, Jason, now.’

  Jason breathed in then air-pushed out through both arms.

  Dad went rigid as Jason’s Gift ripped through his body and out through his own hands. The torn bubble flickered out of existence but a thick, shimmering air-shroud enveloped Violet’s entire body.

  Dad’s eyes locked with the demon’s red slits. He stepped forward with Jason in tow, grabbed Violet’s skinny shoulders through the chrysalis of air and sent their combined Gift deep into the girl. Jason forced himself to keep pushing out. Xaphan was fighting them, trying to force the Gift back into Dad’s body. If they failed, Dad would be wide open to possession.

  Dimly, Jason heard furious gunfire and Miranda’s voice from what seemed a mile away shouting that they couldn’t hold them off.

  Unearthly screaming voices ripped through the air, surged in volume, shaking the walls then cut dead. Violet sank to the ground. Black mist streamed from her mouth and a red-eyed spectre shot for the shadows of the upper floors.

  ‘… coming, they’re coming…’ Miranda’s voice erupted in Jason’s head, almost drowned out by the deafening crackle of her Kalashnikov. Bullets hammered like hailstones against the thick wooden walls. Two boarded windows suddenly tore away and burst inwards under the deluge of deadly lead.

  Violet lay crumpled on the floor, her eyes closed. Dad sagged to his knees next to her and a wave of exhaustion sent Jason down next to him.

  Miranda’s Kalashnikov clicked empty. Marakoff tossed her another magazine from across the doorway and sent her to shoot from the shredded window.

  ‘We are nearly out of ammunition,’ Marakoff called back to them. ‘There will be a little more with the guards upstairs but…’

  ‘Xaphan is up there,’ Dad said, scanning the wheelhouse. ‘He can’t do much in spirit form but we need to leave…’

  ‘Past the waterwheel?’ Jason ventured.

  ‘Too slow, they will pick us off one by one. We could…’ Marakoff began then his radio burst into faint life.

  ‘… are… way back… Are… receiving…’

  ‘Ilena,’ Dad said. He glanced towards the front where Marakoff and Miranda, now both on single-shot fire, were sheltering from the hammering security onslaught.

  ‘We’ll have to go out through the back and across the river,’ he said, looking through the ragged hole made by Alicia’s flying body.

  ‘There’s the rowing boat,’ Jason said.

  Marakoff’s radio crackled again, this time, with a much stronger signal. ‘We are half a mile away, can hear gunfire. Richard, Marakoff - report… please… report.’

  Dad nodded. ‘Marakoff, tell Ilena we’ll meet her on the far bank. Then blow up the helicopter.’

  Marakoff switched to his pistol while he spoke on the radio whilst Miranda flicked her Kalashnikov back to automatic. Dad turned to Brash, still lying unconscious. He drew out his own pistol.

  ‘No.’ Anna scrabbled over from the wall Xaphan had slapped her into and put herself in front of her father.

  ‘He’s unconscious, Anna,’ Dad said. ‘The second we leave, Xaphan will possess him. We will have an uncontrolled demon in the body of a massively Gifted host.’

  Anna got up and started dragging Brash towards the door. ‘The second you leave I’ll have him out in the sunlight amongst dozens of security.’

  Dad hesitated.

  ‘You can’t shoot him in cold blood,’ Jason said, moving over to stand by Anna.

  Then a single shot rang out from Marakoff’s gun and the helicopter on the lawn exploded.

  ‘Time to go,’ Marakoff shouted, grabbing Miranda and rushing over to the hole in the back wall.

  Dad took a second then holstered his pistol. ‘Get him out of here, Anna, then blow up the wheelhouse… you might just get Xaphan. Jason come on.’

  ‘Thank you,’ Anna mouthed to Jason as she slowly dragged her father towards the door.

  ‘Quick, son,’ Dad said, his Kalashnikov trained on the front door. Marakoff and Miranda were already outside on the narrow wharf that ran river-side of the wheelhouse.

  Jason ran across to Violet. ‘We’re not leaving her here,’ he said and hoisted her thin frame over his shoulder.

  ‘Of course not – silly me,’ Dad sighed, ‘now if there’s no one else you want to save, let’s get the hell out of here.’

  As Jason climbed out he glanced back at Anna dragging her father to the door and Eddie stirring in the shadows. Would they still come after him?

  Outside, Marakoff and Miranda were already in the rowing boat Jason had used that first day when arriving at the Mill.

  ‘Look,’ said Miranda, pointing across the river.

  A battered green Land Rover was hurtling off the Old Road and onto the far river bank – Ilena.

  ‘Into the boat,’ Dad ordere
d. Jason still carrying Violet, clambered into the dinghy with Dad a step behind. Miranda and Marakoff pulled on the oars as Dad sent them cutting across the river with a Gift-powered shoved off.

  ‘They’re coming,’ Marakoff said calmly, heaving on his oar.

  ‘Shield wall, Jason, quickly.’ Dad ordered.

  As the first of the security guards appeared at smashed wheelhouse wall, Jason dropped Violet in the bottom of the boat and slapped up an air wall with both hands. More guards ran along the side wharf.

  Dad breathed in and formed an air-stepping stone in his hands. He turned it horizontal, held it against his chest and shot the air support out horizontally to the wharf.

  The boat surged towards the far bank, ripping the oars from Miranda’s hands. The wake broke against the watermill and disturbed a body tied under the walkway.

  Jason bit down on his bottom lip - it was Lance. Marakoff must have had to deal with him to get into the wheelhouse.

  Bullets rattled into Jason’s air-wall, hammering away any chance to mourn yet another death. Feeling sick and exhausted, he struggled to push more energy into their only defence. A few seconds later they grounded on the far bank with a jolt.

  Ilena’s Jeep roared over and skidded to a halt a couple of metres away just in front of the tree line. Ilena, Louisa and Mouse all leapt out on the far side and began shooting across the river.

  ‘Out,’ Dad said. ‘Keep behind Jason’s wall.’

  Marakoff picked up the still unconscious Violet and struggled out first. Jason waited until last, shielding everyone with his wall and then edged off the boat backwards.

  ‘Hurry,’ Ilena said, ‘their bullets are to slow us down – they will try to flank us.’

  Marakoff’s bad leg almost buckled as he tried to balance with Violet and negotiate the bank. Miranda and Dad both stooped to help him and that’s when Alicia Sirensong dropped out of the trees.

  She landed almost on top of Dad and pummelled him to the ground with two massive blows.

  Miranda whipped up her Kalashnikov and shot Alicia at point blank range but the Touched slammed her away even as the bullets ripped through her flesh.

  Even as Marakoff struggled to his feet and Jason pulled one hand from making his wall, Mouse rolled over the Land Rover bonnet, flipping out twin bo-sticks. He smashed them both into the back of Alicia’s skull.

  She stumbled back then whirled around to attack Mouse but he double-struck again just as Louisa stepped up beside him and shot her in the head.

  Alicia span away in an explosion of blood and bone.

  ‘Come on,’ Ilena shouted, as she decimated what was left of Alicia’s skull with her two machine pistols. Satisfied the Touched wasn’t going to get up, she returned to shooting across the river.

  ‘We have come to rescue you,’ Mouse grinned, taking Violet from Marakoff and throwing her over his shoulder. Jason widened his air-wall as Dad got to his feet and helped Miranda up. The wall flickered uncertainly now and the odd bullet was getting through at the edges.

  ‘Mouse, get them inside,’ Ilena ordered as they finally reached the Land Rover.

  ‘After you,’ Mouse said, dropping the tailgate for Miranda.

  ‘I can’t keep this up much longer,’ Jason shouted, desperately trying to maintain his failing shield wall across the Land Rover’s bonnet.

  Ilena leapt into the driving seat, Mouse passed Violet into Miranda then he and Louisa and Marakoff scrambled into the back of the jeep.

  ‘Right Son,’ Dad said, calm as ever despite blood dripping from his nose, ‘you can drop the wall – they won’t risk shooting you.’

  Jason let the wall drop and Dad pulled him into the cab.

  The hailstorm of bullets switched to single shots, thudding into the mud by the tyres. Ilena threw them into reverse, hand-braked around and sped back towards the old road.

  ‘Destroy the bridge, Jason,’ Dad said as they bumped onto the cracked tarmac and skidded to a halt. He pushed open the passenger door.

  ‘Dad, I’m drained. I don’t think I…’ Jason began but then the first of Brash’s Jeeps skidded around the corner of The Highwayman inn.

  Jason jumped out, took in a breath and pushed out with everything he had left.

  A boulder of shimmering air hurtled into the middle of the bridge and blasted out half the road.

  ‘Again,’ Dad ordered, before shooting his Kalashnikov over Jason’s head at the oncoming jeeps.

  Gunfire rattling in his ear, his head swimming and his vision blurred, Jason moved further to the side and tried again.

  A smaller bolt seared towards the bridge’s keystone, smashing out great chunks of stone. The bridge shuddered and as the first of Brash’s jeep attempted to cross, it began falling away into the dark waters below.

  ‘Back inside,’ Dad yelled, grabbing Jason’s arm and hauling him in.

  Ilena floored the accelerator and they roared up the Old Road and into the sheltering trees.

  ***

  Deep within the shadows of the Wheelhouse attic, far from the sun’s lethal touch, the demon Xaphan watched the boy escape while it finished repairing its new host. Pale skin knitted back together across a ragged wound in Alan Brash’ forehead as his right hand casually wiped the dripping blood from his face. Both eyes flicked open again - malevolent slits of burning scarlet.

  Xaphan pulled Brash’s lips into a painful grin. It had been so easy, possessing the unconscious youth, knocking out the stupid daughter again and then possessing his summoner.

  He was disappointed the Touched woman had failed his mental orders to ambush the humans once they’d revealed their escape plan. Still, she had paid the price of failing him.

  Xaphan tested his control over the new body. Brash’s canines mutated into fangs and back again. With all this host’s Gift-power, memories and influence at his command, it would not be difficult to find the boy, Jason Darillian, once more, wherever he might choose to hide.

  Of course, now he was inside his summoner’s mind, he knew there was another option.

  One way or another, Demon-kind would have their Triple Six very soon.

  And then the Prince would rise again.

  EPILOGUE

  It began to rain the moment they crossed into Scotland. Heavy drops swept in dark waves across the foot hills and hammered at the camper van windows. Dad slowed down – even for him, it was treacherous driving at night on some back road as far from motorway, rail and airport cameras as they could be. To make things worse, they were hardly travelling in a rock steady, 4x4 Land Rover anymore.

  Dad had bought the camper yesterday afternoon for cash in some huge Manchester vehicle lot. They needed to ‘lose’ Ilena’s vehicle and besides, he’d explained, they might have to do quite a lot of travelling over the next few months. Dad needed to tell the Watch Council in the Carpathians the truth about what Brash had done and make sure no one argued it was acceptable.

  The camper van had seven seats but only fold-down beds for four and one of those was a double. This would be a problem now Marakoff and Violet were travelling with them.

  Violet. She hadn’t spoken since her redemption from the demon, Xaphan. She’d barely eaten a thing and mostly just stared straight ahead, sitting and moving only when she was led. That was how she was now, belted into one of the back seats, staring out into the night without seeing a thing. Had they really rescued her at all?

  Headlights flashed twice in Dad’s mirror, the momentary change in light waking Marakoff who was riding shotgun. Ilena needed to talk.

  Dad’s walkie-talkie batteries had died last night and the remote, two-pump garages they stopped at didn’t stock AAAs. They had to stay away from real civilisation. There were just too many police-linked CCTV cameras in high streets and the main petrol stations and what the police knew, Brash or the Brethren were likely to know as well.

  Dad found a muddy lay-by and pulled over. Ilena’s smaller Volkswagen dormabile, exchanged at the same Manchester mega-mart Dad had used, squelche
d in behind them. Like Dad’s, her DVLA notification would sadly get ‘lost in the post’. They didn’t know how far Alan Brash’s influence went.

  Dad got out and cold, dark rain burst in for a second until he shut the door. His hunched silhouette brushed by Jason’s window and clambered into the back of Ilena’s Volkswagen.

  Jason watched their shadows through the big back window. Ilena had come back for them when she’d seen the helicopter hovering over Darkston Wick. Mouse and Louisa had both insisted they couldn’t leave without at least trying to help.

  Now they were all on the run together, hiding from their former protector and whatever might be left of the Brethren in Britain.

  Jason gave up watching Dad and Ilena’s silhouettes and flopped back against the worn corduroy cushions. Miranda lay stretched out on the bench seat across from him - three quarters asleep and chewing her hair. In the front, Marakoff sat up straight – he was alert now and peering out into the dark.

  Jason shook his head - it seemed their life of running away in the middle of the night wasn’t over after all. Perhaps it never would be.

  Miranda stirred, spitting out her hair and scowling as if it was somebody else’s fault she’d the taste of conditioner in her mouth.

  Despite himself, Jason smiled.

  His mood quickly darkened again however as he looked over to Violet once more – her dead eyes staring into the night. More than everything he’d been through himself, it was his quiet, plucky friend from Silent Hill that had finally brought him to a decision. One way or another he’d train and grow in power until he could wipe the all demons from the face of the earth; then he’d deal with the Brethren and anyone else who would force a filthy, evil spirit into another human being. If that meant facing Alan Brash, then so be it – he just hoped Anna wouldn’t be there to see it.

  The driver’s door banged open and Dad jumped in dripping wet. He gave a reassuring smile back to them and started the engine.

  Jason’s grand plan for saving humankind would have to wait for a while. For now they were heading towards Mawn. They needed to make sure grandfather was safe and warn him about Brash. Perhaps he’d travel to the Carpathians with them… just to lighten the atmosphere.