The Demon's Grave

by E. M. MacCallum

  Seeing me gape, Aidan held up his hands for me to see, attempting to keep me calm. “I didn’t say we’d be stealing them. These people weren’t in my dream. Maybe it’s how we can find the black door.”

  Before I could utter a word, Aidan started for the bikers again. I realized he hadn’t answered my question whether he could actually handle a motorbike. I knew I couldn’t. The craziest thing I’d ever driven was my Mom’s sedan. Rebellious, right?

  Shuffling behind Aidan, I looked up to see the only woman‌—‌who could be in her mid-twenties‌—‌peel back her lips in a toothy, sardonic smile. “Well, well, if it isn’t Hansel and Gretel.”

  I had to bite my lip from blurting, “Are you the wicked witch?” For all I knew, she could be.

  She wasn’t deformed like the rest of her posse. Her face could have been pretty if she pulled it out of the permanent lip-sneer. Dark brown hair was back in a tight ponytail and she wore actual black leather chaps and a jacket. She paid particular attention to Read‌—‌most girls do.

  I half hid between Aidan and Read as the five began to circle.

  Aidan offered his friendly smile to the witch-woman. “Actually, we need a ride,” he said in a casual off-hand tone.

  The woman glanced at the three of us and rasped a laugh. “You serious, kid?”

  Kid? We couldn’t have been more than a few years younger than her, maybe even the same age. The five had completely surrounded us at this point. One of them was standing disturbingly close to my left. I could feel the body heat against my bare shoulder.

  My chin had to tilt up to see his face, he was much taller than I‌—‌than any of us. Aidan was our tallest and he was almost a head shorter. The tall man sported a shaved head riddled with an oversized black tattoo of what could have been a skull, but I couldn’t make it out from my angle.

  He had at least one eye, which blinked long lashes at me.

  I grimaced, before attempting to control my expression. His left eye had been smoothed over, like it had never existed. He didn’t have eyebrows either.

  He licked his lips at me slowly.

  I jerked my head away before my face could betray the disgust roiling in my stomach. Taking a new grip on Aidan’s arm, I stood oppressively close, any closer and I’d be shoving him.

  Read gestured to their parked bikes. “Where are you off to?”

  A teenager, maybe fifteen, replied. He stood on the other side of Read. “We’re going to the next city.” He flicked a cigarette butt onto the sidewalk then blew smoke through the triangular hole where his nose should have been.

  I had to give Read credit for not coughing when he spoke. “We’re looking for a ride.”

  “It’ll cost yah,” the girl looked him up and down, arching dramatic, pencil-thin eyebrows.

  I had to hide my face in Aidan’s shoulder to stop the persistent tickle from the lingering cigarette smoke.

  “How much?” I heard Read ask.

  Peeking, I saw the teenager smile wide, showing all five pristine teeth. “A hundred bucks,” he tilted his head and looked at Aidan and me. “Each.”

  I believe Baldy behind me chuckled, or maybe it was indigestion, I couldn’t tell.

  We didn’t have that kind of money. I had ten dollars and a glass key in my pocket. I wasn’t sure what Read and Aidan were carting around with them but it certainly wasn’t three-hundred dollars.

  “No, problem,” Aidan replied, not missing a beat, even sounding confident.

  The two silent bikers on either side of the woman were quiet for a reason. Both of them resembled the boys in the AM radio car. No mouth or eyes but they nodded when she glanced at them.

  We’re so dead.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  “Where is it?” The woman asked, scratching her shoulder and I could see her deformity at last. Her hand was fat, warped with scars and her fingers were stubs, no longer than my toes, but much thicker and without nails.

  I caught a name on the sleeve of her leather jacket, Viper.

  “It’s in the next city down the line. I have some dealings there. If you take us directly to the…‌soap warehouse on Ninety-seventh Avenue, you can get your three hundred bucks and a bonus,” Aidan answered, aloofly.

  I struggled not to act surprised when her scrutinizing gaze landed on me, then Read.

  Aidan pointed down the street behind us. “You see, our car broke down and I can’t be late. These are important people.”

  How did he learn to lie like that? I wondered. The soap warehouse was a little fake but it seemed to work on Viper. If I got out of here, maybe I should invest in watching gangster movies. My heart thumped as she mulled it over. After a pause, she nodded to Baldy behind me.

  “I think that we should do it, Frankie,” she said. “Not like we’re doing anything else tonight.”

  “And what if there’s no money?” One-eyed-Frankie asked.

  One of the mouthless men leaned close to her ear. There was no way he could have spoken, but Viper tilted her head as if to listen anyway.

  Afterward, I understood why her nickname was Viper. The smile that curled her lips reminded me of a serpent.

  “Then we can kill ‘em,” she told Frankie.

  Perhaps, Viper wasn’t the ringleader after all.

  I wanted to lean up to Aidan and say that we still had a chance to back off but lost my nerve. This was his nightmare after all. He would know what to do better than I.

  Aidan nodded to Viper and her faceless associates. “We have a deal then?”

  Viper pulling a jagged hunting-knife from her belt and twirled it in her fingers expertly, watching Aidan before tossing it in the air and catching the blade with her good hand. “Deal.” She threw a wink in Read’s direction. “You know the price.”

  Aidan didn’t remove his friendly, shielded smile. “Shall we?”

  Head high, she tossed her ponytail and motioned to their bikes. “Time to ride, boys.” She looked Read up and down before purring, “You can ride with me.”

  Read’s steely eyes shifted to the bike and he stepped toward her. The group around us began to separate and I felt a draft where Baldy‌—‌or rather Frankie‌—‌had been standing.

  When neither Aidan or I moved, Viper jutted her chin at Aidan. “You go with Paul.” Her narrow eyes scanned me with a scowl before she said louder, “Where should Miss Muffet go?”

  Frankie leered from his bike. “Muffet will come with me.”

  “No detours this time, Frankie.” Viper was smiling all too pleasantly.

  This time?

  They straddled their bikes and motors rumbled to life. Kickstands were kicked and bikes righted as the riders waited for the three of us to join them. I forced each finger to detach from Aidan’s arm and hoped this was a good idea.

  I was close enough to hear Aidan tell Viper over the engines. “I don’t want to be far from them. We can’t separate.”

  Something shadowed over Viper’s eyes but as soon as it appeared, it was gone. She turned her sharp chin toward the Eyeless-man and nodded as if hearing him. “You won’t be,” she answered, sounding disappointed.

  Aidan started for the young punk’s bike and I took the few shaky steps to Frankie’s. He’d better be a damn good driver…‌without detours.

  Frankie scooted back in his seat, like he wanted me to sit in front of him. The letters AJS were scrawled across the oversized gas tank.

  Oh that wasn’t going to happen.

  Viper must have noticed Frankie pat the narrow section of seat between his crotch and the gas tank. “Play time later, Frankie.”

  How about never, Frankie?

  The oversized cyclops was frowning, but he scooted up.

  In the distance, the ear-splintering, engine-roaring barrage erupted.

  Read shouted something from the back of Viper’s bike. She was already backing out of her space. Her motor was low compared to the intensity of the nightmare-car.

  I bolted for Frankie’s bike just as a red, classic s
ports car raced around the corner beyond the Victorian house. Straddling Frankie, I held tight. “Go, go, go!” I shrieked, pressing my cheek to his shoulder.

  The bike skidded to a start and I wasn’t entirely prepared.

  The violent jerk almost snapped my grip like a twig. As we picked up speed, the engine was hot against my bare legs, feeling more intense near my swollen knee.

  The other bikes raced alongside us, roaring their engines in unison but even they couldn’t drown the bellow of the Maserati sports car.

  Read and Viper were just ahead of us. Both of them lay low on her bike as the wind blinded Read with her ponytail.

  Aidan was beside us. Hunched, his face was turned toward Frankie and me.

  The cherry red sports car was easily gaining on the group of five. A white stripe arched up the hood but it was splattered with a dark crimson that didn’t match the color of the car.

  The Maserati inched closer to the fifth biker, one of the eyeless/mouthless ones. Looking behind, I saw the headlights of the car nearing the back tire of his bike.

  The sports car looked as though it was getting ready to pass when it swerved.

  With a shriek of tires and smoke, the fender knocked into the motorbike‌—‌hard.

  The rider soared while the bike fell to its side, spinning out of control and skidding between two parked cars.

  The airborne rider landed on his head, crunching down like an accordion against the pavement. His arms attempted to cushion the fall, but from the violent twist of his body, I was sure he didn’t make it. Biting down on my lip, I tried not to scream. The fall looped in my memory even as I looked away.

  Frankie and I passed Viper’s bike. Aidan and the teenager were inching ahead of them as well.

  The heat of the engine wasn’t warm anymore, it was burning. Wincing, I tried to hold my bare legs out to avoid scorching them, which felt like they were cooking from the inside out. It reminded me of standing next to an oven or fire pit with a nasty sunburn.

  “Faster!” I urged Frankie. I wasn’t sure if he could hear me, but I’m certain he got the idea.

  The bike’s engine revved as I heard a crash barely muffled by the machinery.

  Looking back, I saw the red car had eliminated yet another member of their gang and was gaining on Viper and Read.

  Viper glanced back just in time to see the Maserati’s bumper collide with the back of her bike. Read’s mouth opening in a scream, but I heard nothing over the bike.

  Viper struggled to gain control of her vehicle. She and Read wobbled violently before veering to the side. The speeding car could have hit them but, before I could see, Frankie took a sharp turn down an avenue, leaving Read and Viper out of our sights.

  Aidan and Paul were inches ahead of us as my driver struggled to pull up beside them. Say the words, Aidan. I pleaded in my mind.

  The shrieking tires had me looking back, hoping to see Read and Viper. Instead it was the Maserati skidding on the wide turn and emerging from the billowing, tire-smoke.

  At first I was certain that we could get away, a few more turns and we could probably put enough distance between us and the car. But, I was wrong.

  The Maserati launched forward the minute it had a straight road again.

  The car neared the bikes at an alarming speed. I could hear myself screaming long before I knew it was me.

  Squirming to inch closer to Frankie, I saw there was nowhere to run or take cover.

  The bumper crept closer, only a foot from touching the motorbike. We had to make a turn, something.

  Searching the Maserati for a driver I couldn’t see anyone beyond the clear shimmering glass. The only movement was the streetlights playing off the darkened windows.

  All I could imagine was my face slamming into that shimmering windshield.

  Squealing, I braced myself for the impact, wondering which way I’d fly.

  Behind the car a movement caught my eye.

  Viper and Read rounded the corner, their legs almost scraping concrete on the turn. That was too close, I thought in relief. Then Frankie’s entire bike jerked.

  It wobbled dangerously beneath us and for the second time I almost lost my grip.

  A sickening warmth churned in my chest and stomach and I heard the distinct sound of metal scrapping metal.

  Die in a Demon’s Grave away from everything I knew, everything familiar and everyone I knew.

  I’d become another headstone for my parents to purchase.

  Part of me wanted to bury my face in Frankie’s back and wait for the jarring smash. The other part had to watch.

  Twisting my neck, I watched as the Maserati sped up for another go at the bike.

  Stiffening, I prepared myself when I realized we were pulling farther away.

  Craning my neck to look over Frankie’s shoulder I could see him catching up to Aidan and Paul, or were they slowing down?

  I tried to shout at Aidan to hold on as we came level with them, but it was too late.

  He knew it was coming, I could see it in his face.

  The Maserati hit Paul’s bike with more force than it had hit us.

  I watched the collision in helpless horror as Paul lost control.

  The motorbike began to twist. The tires smoked and skidded, the distinct smell of burning rubber was hot in the air.

  Paul lost his balance and they tipped onto their side.

  Aidan’s leg must have bent before it could be trapped. He detached himself from the nose-less teenager and rolled.

  Paul wasn’t so lucky. His leg stuck between bike and pavement, he spun into a parked car. Paul and his bike hit hard enough to lift the rusted car and wedge part-way underneath.

  On the opposite side of the street, Aidan had rolled under a parked pickup truck.

  The minute Aidan disappeared, the Maserati slammed into the side of the truck. It missed him by a millisecond, spewing sparks into the air.

  The back wheel of Frankie’s bike slid out to the side, twirling until we faced the scene we’d left behind. We skidded to a stop and it jostled my insides.

  The Maserati shot past us in a blur and I turned my head to see it screech around the corner and out of sight. Smoke had filled the air and I breathed through my mouth to combat the overwhelming stench of burning rubber and exhaust.

  It took a second or two for me to realize I could get off the bike.

  Using Frankie for leverage, I swung my legs. In my urgency to get to Aidan, I nearly tangled them on the seat. My legs wobbled as if molded from gelatin and I struggled to jog towards the pick-up truck without eating pavement.

  The dented, scratched metal glared in the streetlight. The driver’s side door would be impossible to open. The center was caved in and shattered glass had fallen onto the pavement.

  Aidan hadn’t come out yet and I felt a chill at that fact.

  Dropping to my haunches to avoid the glass, I anticipated the worst.

  It was dark under the truck and I could make out the outline of Aidan’s body near the sidewalk.

  In the shadow, I saw eyes blinking at me.

  Touching my chest with my hand I wheezed. “Aidan, can you move?”

  After a pause and several rapid blinks of those eyes, he shifted his arms and legs slowly, testing each digit in his hand.

  “Nothing’s broken,” he said, his voice soft and far away.

  Pounding footsteps behind me straightened my spine.

  Turning, I saw Read as he skidded to a stop and dropped to the pavement beside me. Seeing Aidan he breathed out a half-laugh, half-sigh of relief. “Shit dude, I thought it hit you.”

  Rolling, Aidan drew himself closer to us. Read and I shuffled back, pushing glass out of the way with our feet.

  Aiden stopped in mid-roll. His eyes glazed and I could see the damage for the first time. A nasty gash on one leg had torn a hole in his jeans, exposing the bloodied combination of skin and gravel. I couldn’t tell how deep it might be. I only saw the blood soak into a deep, unhealthy crimson.r />
  A cut within his hairline had left matted blood to the left side of his head, trickling a few droplets across his temple. The one day he decided to make his hair look presentable and it was twisted and spiked all over again.

  “Crap,” Read muttered. “Dude is there anything broken?”

  I shook my head at Read, but said to Aidan. “Stay awake, alright? Don’t fall asleep.”

  Aidan muttered something before looking down at his bloodied leg. His languid eyes almost shut and I patted his arm. His t-shirt was ripped as well. Along the shoulder there were minor scrapes from the pavement, nothing any of us hadn’t endured as children.

  “We have to find something to clean his leg,” I said to Read. Then I asked Aidan. “Can you stand?”

  Aidan flexed his wounded leg and nodded. “It’s not broken.” As if remembering what had just happened he jerked his head up and asked, suddenly alert. “Is it gone?”

  “Yeah, it’s gone.” Read bent over and put Aidan’s arm around his neck helping him to his feet. The little bits of glass tinkled from his clothes and Aidan staggered before leaning against the pickup.

  Breathing in deeply, Aidan pinched the bridge of his nose, squeezing his eyes shut. “That sucked.”

  I couldn’t help but glance in the direction of Paul.

  Bloodied streaks led to his motionless body, still trapped beneath the bike and half under one of the parked cars.

  Behind us, Frankie remained seated on his bike, he was staring at Viper who was dismounting hers like a sleepwalker. She didn’t seem interested in anything other than the damage on her motorbike.

  Aidan winced as Read helped him hobble onto the sidewalk.

  No one spoke as we edged farther up the street and watched the bikers talk. They no longer seemed interested in us. If we were lucky, they’d forget long enough for us to get away.

  Shuffling along the sidewalk, I listened for the motorbikes to roar to life; for them to give chase. There was no sign, even as we rounded the corner and ducked out of sight. I peeked one last time to see them distracted in conversation.

  “What happened?” I whispered half-way down the second block.

  “I just said that this was a nightmare.” Aidan cringed. “Then the bike slowed down and the car hit us.”