by Alan Baxter
Thomas put a concerned hand on her shoulder. ‘Are you all right?’
Katherine nodded. ‘Yes. I just felt a little dizzy there for a moment.’
Thomas’ eyes were worried. ‘Are you sure?’ He was looking directly into her eyes, his gaze slightly disconcerting.
‘Yes, really, I’m fine. Thomas, do me a favour. Lay your hand on the skull.’
‘Why?’
‘I’d just like you to tell me what you feel.’
Thomas eyed the skull warily. He handed the torch back to Katherine. ‘Very well.’
Katherine moved aside to let him crouch in her place. He extended one hand towards the skull. Just before his palm reached the smooth, crystal surface, a voice echoed down to them.
‘Miss Bailey? Mr Drake? Are you here?’
Thomas whipped his hand away like a scolded child. He immediately looked at Katherine, biting his lower lip. ‘That really made me jump!’ he said, his voice excited. ‘I feel like a schoolboy again, trying to get at the headmaster’s gin!’
Katherine giggled. ‘We’re down here, Senor Sanchez,’ she called out. She pointed at the camera around Drake’s neck. ‘Just getting that shot we missed earlier.’
Realisation dawned on Thomas’ face. ‘Ah, yes, of course.’ He stood back a little as Katherine held the hessian aside. They heard the scrape of Sanchez’ feet as the flash burst out, blinding them for a second. Blinking, they slowly made their way back up the steps.
‘You got the picture you wanted?’ Sanchez asked as they emerged. He held the trapdoor for them, lowering it behind them.
Katherine nodded. ‘Yes, we did, thank you. I hope you don’t mind.’
Sanchez smiled. ‘Of course not. I know I can trust you not to touch or move anything.’
Katherine avoided looking at Thomas, stifling a giggle. ‘You wanted us?’ she asked, changing the subject.
‘Yes, I came to tell you that supper is being served. Work is pretty much finished for the day, now the light’s failing.’
‘Oh, I see. Even in here?’
Sanchez laughed. ‘Even in here, Miss Bailey. I am a dedicated man, and can often be found in here at all hours, picking and brushing. But tonight we have you as our guests, and I would like to offer you my hospitality in the form of a bottle of fine wine.’
Katherine beamed. ‘Well, well, Senor Sanchez. I’m sure we’d be delighted to accept. A little luxury in the wilderness!’
As they left the pyramid Thomas paused in the doorway, looking back. Katherine stopped, turning around. ‘What’s up?’
Drake shook his head. ‘I don’t know. Maybe it’s just what that worker said, but I feel a distinct sense of tension. Like something fairly major is going to happen.’
Katherine raised an eyebrow. ‘Sixth sense, Thomas?’
Thomas chuckled. ‘Of course not, my dear. Divine intervention!’
13
‘What time is it?’ Samuel’s voice was nervous, fretful.
Isiah looked at him, his patience worn thin. ‘About ten minutes since you last asked.’
Samuel coughed uncomfortably. ‘I’m just a little edgy, you know. We’ve been sitting around so long, I’m worried about moving again.’
‘I know, Samuel. Just chill, okay, we’ll be fine.’
Samuel stood up, pacing across the flagstones in front of the altar. ‘Do we really have to sit through another sermon by that insect of a fucking holy man?’
Isiah laughed. ‘Yeah. This mornings service wasn’t so bad, was it? I mean, you haven’t killed him yet, so it can’t have been all bad.’
Samuel chose not to rise to that. ‘It was bad enough, man. Besides, after that I’ve spent all day giving myself a headache trying to light a goddamn candle. I’m sick of this place!’
‘There’ll be the evening service soon, Samuel. People will start coming in, the priest will waffle on about nothing for an hour, then when everybody leaves, so do we. Relax.’
Samuel sat back down hard on the pew. ‘How can I relax? The moment we step out that door, he’s going to know about it.’
Isiah nodded. ‘I know. But we don’t have to make it easy for him.’
‘And how do we make it hard. He’s nearly had us before.’
‘I told you to trust me, Samuel. When we leave the church, we stay with as much of the crowd as possible. If we keep people around us, there’s less he can do. He’d be hard pressed to take a personal hand in things if we’re surrounded by dozens of different people.’
Samuel frowned. ‘Why?’
‘Because there are rules of a sort, and things that certain beings simply can and can’t do. Imagine if Satan just turned up in a crowded place and ripped someone’s soul out. People would notice. Something like that upsets the delicate structure of belief and faith that keeps these beings in existence. What he’ll try to do is separate us from the crowds, and separate us from each other too. Then he can take you.’
‘So what do we do? Lay it out for me.’
Isiah sighed. ‘Okay, one more time. When the service ends, we leave with the congregation. Most of them will head for the nearest train station, which is about two blocks that way.’ Isiah pointed to the right side of the church. ‘We stay with them. When we get to the station, we stay with the crowds. Don’t worry about tickets and things, I can handle that. We get a train from here directly to the airport terminal, staying with the crowds. Once we get to the airport, we get our tickets, check in, and wait for our flight. We won’t have long to wait, staying with the crowds. Are you spotting the recurring theme throughout this plan?’
Samuel grinned despite himself. ‘Stay with the crowds?’
‘Exactamundo. Old Nick will be trying his hardest to get us on our own, especially to get you on your own. We fight off his minions, which will attack us, as surreptitiously as possible, keep a low profile. He’ll try to get us in trouble, too. A minion might grab your arm, make you punch a policeman, something like that. If you get arrested, you’ll be put in a cell on your own. Do you understand what I’m saying?’
Samuel nodded. ‘Sure. They’ll try anything, right?’
‘Right. Don’t be fooled by anything, or anyone. If you think you see your long lost aunt being raped down a quiet alley, don’t fall for it. They’ll try anything to get us on our own. If they do get us alone, then there’ll be one hell of a fight, if you’ll pardon the pun. I might not be able to protect you then, but it won’t come to that if you keep your head.’
Samuel was quiet for a moment, then, ‘I could buy us plenty of time to get to the airport.’
‘No, Samuel.’
‘Come on, man. One death to make this so much easier for us.’
Isiah spun to face Samuel, less than an inch from his nose. ‘No, Samuel,’ he said again, from between clenched teeth. ‘That is not the way I work. You have no idea of the repercussions that follow every senseless death like your murders. We do this my way. I have tricks of my own to shake him off, and we’ll stand and fight if we have to, but you kill no-one!’
Samuel leaned away, his eyes wide. ‘All right, man, don’t get a hernia. We do it your way. Just know this; you fail, I’ll grab the nearest passer-by and I’ll vanish.’
Isiah shook his head. ‘It won’t happen. Like I said before, trust me.’
Samuel was quiet again for a while, thinking. ‘What about at the other end?’ he asked.
‘What?’
‘When we get to Guatemala. We’ll still have a fair way to go, and I don’t think it’ll be crowded.’
‘Leave that to me. I have plans to slip away and a way to cloak us for some of the time.’
Samuel looked hard at Isiah. ‘And why can’t you do that now?’
‘Because it’s hard to maintain. Besides, Lucifer knows where we’re going. There’s no point in struggling to hide from him now. When we get to Guatemala we vanish and make our way to the site. With any luck, he won’t catch up until we’re there.’
‘And once I have that skull, we�
��re home free?’
Isiah nodded, smiling inwardly. ‘Once you get your hands on that skull, your work will be done. Now shut up and wait.’
The door behind the altar swung open. A small, wiry priest appeared, looking around his church. When he saw Isiah and Samuel he beamed, suddenly becoming the benevolent right hand of God. He slowly approached them.
Samuel’s voice was low, grating. ‘Fuck off, insect-man.’
Isiah elbowed him. ‘Shut up. I’ll do the talking. If you move one muscle, I’ll drop you like a shot steer. Don’t even scratch your nose.’
‘Good evening, gentlemen. You’ve been here all day?’
Isiah nodded, smiling politely. ‘Every once in a while we like to take a day out to simply enjoy the presence of God. Spend some time in His peace, away from the madding crowds of the city.’
The priest nodded. ‘If only more people would recognise the soul’s need for peace. You gentlemen must feel very whole after a day like this.’
‘I feel like an arsehole,’ Samuel muttered under his breath.
The priest either did not hear, or chose to ignore it. ‘So you’ll be staying for the next service?’
Isiah nodded. ‘Yes, we’ll leave after that.’
‘Jolly good. Well, I must open the doors. My congregation will soon be arriving.’ He strolled down the aisle towards the large oak doors.
Samuel’s voice was bitter. ‘Go and greet your lost sheep, you pretentious fuck.’
Isiah chuckled. ‘Live and let live, Samuel.’
People soon started arriving, filling the pews of the church in that random pattern people use, trying to avoid sitting next to anyone else. Slowly the gaps filled. Isiah was surprised at the number of people, and very pleased. The bigger the crowd, the easier the exit.
Isiah amused himself watching the muscles in Samuel’s cheeks and neck twitch during the sermon. He could hear the grinding of Samuel’s teeth at times. During prayer, Samuel would hang his head, his fists clenching and relaxing. During hymns he would simply stand stock still, his face frozen. Every word must sting like a whip, Isiah thought, with a conscience as guilt ridden as his. Isiah was happy to watch him squirm.
Eventually the prayers were said and the hymns were sung. The priest ran out of hypocritical nonsense and began rounding up the sermon. A collection plate came round, mostly filled with grubby, low denomination coins. Isiah took it and passed it on quickly, before Samuel could make a donation of his own. As the priest spoke his last words, Isiah felt the surge of Samuel’s will. He looked up but the candle was already lit, had been all service. As he looked the flame vanished with a subtle pop. Samuel grinned.
Isiah looked at him, one eyebrow raised. Samuel looked back. ‘That was me, right?’ he whispered. ‘Not a breeze or something?’
‘That was you,’ Isiah said. ‘Well done. Now, can you relight it.’
Samuel shrugged. ‘I dunno. It struck me that it would be easier to extinguish a flame than to ignite one. And it was.’
‘Keep practising, you never know where it all might lead.’
Samuel shook his head, surprised at himself. ‘Well, I’ll be damned,’ he said quietly.
Isiah smiled. Indeed you will.
The congregation rose, the hush broken by dozens of voices, released like caged birds by the priest’s closure, filling the church. Loud, echoing whispers reverberated as everyone began filing towards the door.
Isiah stood, grabbing Samuel by the shoulder, pulling him up. ‘Come on. Stay in the heart of the crowd, and don’t lose me. Hold my hand.’
‘What?’
‘No-one will be surprised in a city like this.’
As Samuel gingerly took Isiah’s hand, wandering along with the crowd, his face was downcast. ‘Now I’m a gay dead nigger,’ he muttered, ‘on the run from the Devil himself. I defy anyone to prove they’re having a worse day than me.’
‘Shut up.’
As they passed through the door, out into the cool, dark, breezy street, Isiah had a moment to enjoy being outside again before the sense of RealmShift brought him alert. But it was something leaving, not arriving. A sentry gone to report. He dragged Samuel along the crowded city street, trying to stay with the bulk of the congregation. ‘Come on, we don’t have a second to spare.’
Samuel’s face was drawn. ‘I just felt something.’
‘Me too. Just remember the plan.’
Samuel was clearly afraid. He gripped Isiah’s hand tightly, as frightened as a little boy.
No more than a hundred feet from the canopied steps leading down through the pavement, a presence built again. ‘Here they come, Samuel,’ Isiah warned. ‘Stay alert.’
Samuel looked nervously around as they hurried towards the steps, shaking all over, terrified. A streak of black movement directly ahead and Isiah’s arm shot out. The minion flying at his throat was incinerated in mid-air by the energy he released. No-one around seemed to notice.
Samuel bolted.
As two more minions, invisible to everybody else, flew at Isiah, Samuel vanished off into the crowd. Isiah vaporised the minions, yelling simultaneously, ‘Samuel! You’ll never make it alone!’
Samuel sidestepped left and right through the crowd, desperately keeping close to people while trying to put distance between himself and Isiah. What am I doing? he thought frantically. He was confused, terrified, but he had never relied on anyone else before and Isiah must have some agenda of his own. He needed time to think. He knew a masking spell that he could use. It worked in much the same way as hiding in a church, a kind of artificial sanctuary, only one that would stay with him if he moved around. And he could push off the devil again at the same time. He could hear Isiah yelling his name as he ran, people in the crowd looking around, confused, inquisitive.
He broke from the edge of the crowd, heading into an alleyway, hoping to cut across to another main street. When he was about halfway through the alley he felt something in the air, something being disturbed not far away. He could feel the presence building, stronger than before.
‘Spare change, mate?’
He looked around, his eyes wild. What the hell was that?
‘Just a few coins?’
Then he saw him, nestled in between large industrial bins and old cardboard boxes. A man in layer upon layer of rags, tattered gloves on his hands, equally tattered woollen hat pulled down over his thick matted hair, almost blending into his ragged beard. Two dark eyes glittered out from under the wool and hair. One filthy hand was stretched out hopefully.
The presence was building. Samuel was sure it was Lucifer himself getting closer. Isiah’s voice rang out at the end of the alley. ‘Samuel! Are you there?’
There was a bottle, empty, lying beside the tramp. Samuel dropped to his knees, grabbing the bottle in one hand and the tramp in the other. The old soak cried out in surprise and indignation as Samuel pushed himself between the bins, dragging the tramp down on top of him. Sharp, hideous words began to issue from his mouth as he smashed the bottle on the ground beside him. Clamping one hand over the wino’s mouth, pulling his head back, he held the broken bottle by its neck and drove it into the side of the old man’s throat. Blood sprayed out, showering Samuel’s arm, running down the side of the bin. Samuel’s words, quick and ancient, a harsh whisper as the dying tramp bucked and convulsed on his lap, air whistling through his rent windpipe. Then all was still.
Isiah stopped dead in the street. The RealmShift had built fast and powerfully as he ran. Lucifer was coming for Samuel and there was nothing he could do. Then just as suddenly the RealmShift had stopped, the rushing presence of Satan vanishing in an instant.
Isiah’s eyes narrowed as he looked left and right. Another innocent dead. As the crowds in the street moved on, oblivious, a dark and menacing minion stepped out from a shop doorway, looking at Isiah, its head cocked to one side. Isiah looked back at it, shrugged. It faded away.
He couldn’t believe it. Samuel had done it again. Cast away the Devil and bo
ught himself more hiding time. But to what end? Samuel’s methods were like a boomerang. No matter what he did, he gained a couple of hours only to finish up back where he started. Isiah would have to move fast now, relocate Samuel quickly and get back on track. There simply wasn’t enough time to start over again. They couldn’t miss that plane. Isiah swore under his breath. Fuck it. Perhaps I’ll just let him go. Let the devil have him.
A sudden flash of images flooded his mind. Native Central Americans in tears, a god wailing in terrible grief, pillaged forests, a raging flood. Isiah growled a noise of annoyance. ‘I know!’ he yelled at no one in particular. A couple of people passing jumped and looked at him sidelong before hurrying on.
THAT FUTURE IS BECOMING MORE AND MORE LIKELY.
‘So piss off and let me fix things!’ Isiah hissed.
Sitting under the heavy body of the tramp Samuel whimpered. What the hell did he do now? He needed help from someone else, someone in the game with a lot of clout. He wanted to charter private planes, travel fast, get to this place in Guatemala and end this his way.
He pushed the corpse off and stood up carefully, looking all around himself. He needed false papers and a quick route out of here. There was one man that could help him, but that man didn’t come cheap. Samuel would have to charm him into a little credit somehow. With a gasp he ducked into the shadows as Isiah appeared back at the end of the alleyway. As soon as he had passed Samuel got up and jogged in the other direction, reaching the main road and hurrying along towards the only place he could think of that would give him the slightest chance of pulling this off.
Isiah thought frantically. He needed help. He needed numbers on his side. Time was fast running out. Running through his mental lists of local contacts he realised he was not too far from Vincenzo’s basement headquarters. Perhaps the old vampire could lend a hand once again.
Moments later he appeared before the same table he had sat by not so long ago. ‘Hello, Vincenzo.’
The old vampire smiled, sitting at the head of the table. There were more people around this time, a dozen or more, all vampires. All arrogant and mean looking, confident in their superiority. A few of them narrowed their eyes as they looked at Isiah. ‘How nice to see you again so soon,’ Vincenzo said.