by Michael Todd
“Try a couple decades,” Katie declared.
“I’m sorry to say we haven’t quite reached that milestone yet.” Korbin chuckled. “Maybe one day.”
“You look like you’re in pain,” Calvin said.
“Yeah.” Katie laughed. “I have to say I feel like I’ve been beaten horribly for days by a really big demon.”
“Did you know you would feel that way?” Derek asked, concern on his face.
“No,” she said, “but I’m sure there was someone here who could have told me that.”
“Oh.” Damian smirked. “Did I forget to tell you about that part? It must have slipped my mind.”
“You better watch it.” She stood up and winced. “When I can move again, me and you are going toe to toe in a sparring match.”
“I am looking forward to it.” He laughed.
“Sorry guys, but at this pace we’ll reach the doors next Wednesday,” she said, shuffling along.
“I got this,” Derek said. “Put your arms around my neck.”
She carefully wrapped her arms around his neck and squeaked in pain as he scooped her up in his arms, cradling her as they walked. Calvin got the door, and the five of them made their way out of the hospital. Derek carefully set her down in the passenger seat of the SUV parked out front and buckled her in.
“How did you get this here?” she asked.
“I flew one of the choppers back and grabbed it when we first got here,” he said. “Figured we would need it.”
“Good job,” she said as he pulled out of the hospital parking lot.
Katie looked out the window, thinking about the dreams—or daydreams or visions—that she’d had while the exorcism was happening. It was a strange feeling, but she knew they hadn’t just been dreams. They had been so real.
Pandora? Katie thought. You all right?
I feel like you do, she whimpered. All I want is a nice hot bath.
Did you cast him out?
I sure as hell did, she said. He had the audacity to try to make a grab. Let me just say he will never be able to do that again. It’s hard to grab things with no hands.
That’s my girl. Katie chuckled. Always looking out for women’s rights.
Chapter Twenty-Four
“It’s finally warm again,” Damian said. “I love the warm weather.”
Korbin laughed. “Yeah, until it gets to be a hundred and ten degrees on a good day.”
“At least the sun is shining, and my limbs don’t feel like they’re falling off anymore.” Katie chuckled.
“You heal extraordinarily fast,” Damian said. “It’s been what, two weeks?”
“One day less than,” Katie said. “I told you guys, I’m a superhero.”
“I believe it,” Korbin said, looking around.
“All right, guys, as much as I like long walks in the park, why did you two bring me here?” Katie asked, looking down at her watch. “It’s fifteen minutes after two, and this girl has a date with a certain soap opera at three on the dot. You know how grumpy I get when I don’t get my soaps. I’m like a middle-aged woman with that shit.”
“It’s a surprise,” Korbin said, walking forward and looking closely around the park.
“Is it strippers? I really don’t like strippers.” Katie chuckled.
“I had this whole thing planned,” Korbin said. “It would figure that this is the one day…”
Korbin went silent and squinted across the park to the entrance. Katie lifted her eyebrows and glanced at Damian, who just shrugged. A smile started to move across his lips, and he turned back to Katie.
“All right,” Korbin said. “Close your eyes.”
“Is this some weird training thing?” she asked. “Am I going to have to fight someone blindfolded? I’m really not healed all the way yet.”
Korbin laughed. “Just close them.”
She smiled and closed her eyes, wobbling back and forth as Korbin turned her to face the entrance. He waved his hand in front of her face to make sure she wasn’t peeking, then took a deep breath and stood back.
“All right,” he told her. “Open them.”
“This better not be the pie in the face trick…” She trailed off as she opened her eyes and stared across the park. “Oh, guys!”
There was Garrett, entering the park with his wife and two boys. There was a sparkle in his eyes, a renewed sense of self, and all the good that Katie had seen in him.
One of the boys was on Garrett’s shoulders, and his wife held his hand tightly. Katie reached up and wiped away the tears that were streaming down her cheeks.
She had honestly thought she would never see him again, so the emotions inside her were bubbling over. She realized how much she missed his friendship, but she would never take it back—especially after seeing that.
She laughed through her tears and backhanded Korbin in the chest.
“I fucking hate you both.” She laughed, choking up again and putting a hand to her mouth. “Thank you. Thank you so damn much.”
“We thought that you might need a little happiness. A gift for all you’ve done; not just for him, but for all of us.” Damian smiled. “We couldn’t let you go any longer without knowing for sure that Garrett was well and happy.”
“This is the best gift ever.” She smiled. “Even better than seeing my soaps.”
“Wow,” Damian said with a smirk. “Better than the soaps?”
“I know, it’s crazy right?” She laughed. “And look, Korbin, apparently they found a really good hotdog place.”
Korbin stepped forward and looked at the wrapper in Garrett’s hand. Sure enough, it bore the name of his uncle’s hotdog restaurant. He had never thought that tidbit would stay in his memory. It took everything Korbin had not to cry, too.
“Don’t cry, old man,” Katie said, elbowing him. “There’s no crying in demon hunting!”
Korbin laughed. “I cry when I stub my damn toe. You guys just don’t know.”
“I really thought for a while that you didn’t have tear ducts.” Katie smiled.
“I cry the blood of my enemies and drink their tears for breakfast.” He chuckled.
“I thought your tea smelled funny.” She smiled. “Salty, almost.”
“Sounds like someone I know.”
“Hey, I’m not salty,” she said in feigned shock. “I’m just a bitch.”
“You said it, not me.” Korbin laughed, putting up his hands. “There’s a question I haven’t asked you yet.”
“What’s that?”
“I still can’t wrap my head around how your demon was able to kill Garrett’s and what you did to negotiate the demon’s help in the first place,” he said. “I know you didn’t just happen to get the only sympathetic demon in the bunch. That would be too poetic.”
I’ll show you poetic, you piece of shit, Pandora growled.
Down, girl, Katie said to Pandora. He means no harm.
“I’m serious,” he said. “Tell me your secret.”
“That is a secret,” Katie said. “It’s a secret that will probably go with me to my grave.”
“You have a secret with a powerful demon and you’re going to take it to the grave?”
“Hey, I have a reputation to uphold here,” she exclaimed. “There are people who judge other people on things like that.”
“It’s just me and Damian.” He chuckled. “And who gives a rat’s ass if we judge you?”
“That’s a good point,” she replied. “But still, no.”
“Come on, how bad could it be?”
“Not bad,” she said. “But on the embarrassment scale, I would say it’s off the charts.”
“Uh oh,” Damian said. “I’m starting to think I don’t want to hear any more stories from you about what happened while you were passed out.”
“Ew,” Katie said. “Did you forget your priesthood today? You always forget to take that with you when you leave home.”
Korbin looked at Katie as Damian pressed her for answers. H
er cheeks glowed bright red, and he could tell she didn’t want to talk about it. He had never seen her embarrassed like that before.
“You ready to head back?” he asked, changing the subject.
“Yep,” Katie said, reaching out for his arm and steadying herself.
Korbin figured that whatever it was, it was her secret to keep. Because of her embarrassment, he had a sneaking suspicion her demon was a succubus. That, however, was none of his business. Katie still had a bit of a limp, so he held her arm tightly and helped her into the car. He didn’t really care how she had done it.
He was just happy to have her on the team.
“Are you happy that in about a week you won’t be the greenest member of the team anymore?” Damian asked, sipping his beer.
“I’m looking forward to giving them hell.” Katie laughed.
It had been a month since the incursion that had uprooted their entire world. Katie had finally healed, but she still limped slightly from time to time—something even Pandora couldn’t seem to fix.
Katie knew it would go away with time, and she was more than happy to push herself in training. That night, though, there was no training, no drills, and no calls. Instead, the guys dragged her back out to that hidden bar for some relaxation. She couldn’t help but laugh at the fact that the furniture was still taped together, only this time with pretty printed duct tape instead of the silver stuff.
The room started to go quiet, and Katie looked over her shoulder at Theresa and Bridgett, two of the waitresses, who walked forward with the bartender, carrying a large sheet cake decorated with two guns and a number one on the top of it. She pulled her eyebrows together and watched as they set it down in front of her and stood to the side.
Oh, look, Pandora said. They got me a cake to tell me they think I’m Number One. That’s so gross and disgustingly sweet of them. I might hurl on my cake now.
Yeah, okay. Katie snickered in her head. More like Number One Bitch.
You are getting feisty, Pandora said with a laugh. I like it. Keep it up. Enjoy your party.
My party? Katie thought, looking around in surprise.
Katie sat up in her chair. Everyone in the room was dressed in tactical gear, and they all had red rings in their eyes. The bar was filled with hunters like her. She turned back and looked at Korbin curiously.
“This is a special night,” he said. “Only those ‘in the know’ are in the bar, and the doors have been locked. They have come from all over the country for this party. These are the teammates who fight silently beside you, even when you don’t know they are there. And it’s not just for you.”
Katie turned and looked at the table by the bar. On the table were two other cakes in recognition of the two members who had left the team. One was for Garrett, and the other for Armani. A tear welled up in the corner of her eye but she pulled it back, feeling like she had cried enough in the last month.
“We do this once a quarter,” Korbin said. “Yours is a little early, but it was the best we could do.”
“I don’t know what to say,” she replied. “Thank you for this.”
“You earned it,” he told her. “All three of you did.”
“I wish they could be here to share it with us,” she said.
“In a way they are,” he replied. “They’re in our hearts and on our minds all the time. Besides, no one wants one of Armani’s long-winded speeches.”
“No.” Katie laughed. “That is true, and God only knows how that would end.”
Katie sat back in her chair and looked down at the cake. She slipped her hand into her pocket and squeezed the folded paper that had been sitting in there for weeks. She looked at Damian, who nodded at her with a smile as he sipped his whiskey. She knew she had to say something. She owed it to the guys.
“Korbin,” she said, looking at him. “It won’t be long-winded, but would you mind if I went up and said something? There’s a microphone for karaoke.”
“Absolutely.” He smiled. “That’s why they left it there. I just wasn’t going to pressure you into speaking.”
“Thank you.” She smiled. “You really thought of everything.”
“That’s what we do.” He laughed. “We take care of our own, even when the choices are hard.”
“Absolutely,” she said, standing up and pushing her chair back.
She started walking toward the microphone, nerves spiraling through her. She couldn’t help but feel a little shy. She had never been very good at public speaking, and hated the spotlight. This was important, though.
These things had to be said.
She pulled the folded-up sheet of paper from her pocket and opened it, shaking her head at the tea stains. She had written what was on that paper weeks before, not actually knowing if she would ever read it. It had been like therapy for her: she had been able to get her thoughts down on paper, pay tribute to the teammates she had lost, and start to move forward from the tragedy of that fateful day.
This night seemed like the perfect moment to read it. Then maybe she could stop carrying it around with her.
She climbed onto the stage and adjusted the microphone, which caused it to ring out across the room. She frowned, fumbling with it until the bartender jogged up and raised it to her height. She blushed and smiled at the crowd.
“I can beat demons, but put me with a microphone and it’s a disaster,” she said, smiling as everyone laughed.
She looked out across the room, not necessarily recognizing each individual face but recognizing the collective group. This was her family, her tribe—the people who knew how she felt, knew what it was like in the trenches, and celebrated every small victory they could. They all knew that time was of the essence, since their lives could be cut short in the blink of an eye. She took a deep breath and shrugged her shoulders, figuring why the hell not.
Everyone there was connected in some way.
“Hello, everyone,” she said. “My name is Katie, and I want to read something to you that I wrote shortly after the commune attack. So here I go. This is my way of saying goodbye to two brothers from other mothers. Armani Royce was released to Heaven, into the care of his true love one last time. He was a strong-willed man, fascinated with the world around him but yearning for that release that all of us desire from time to time. He was brave, strong, and sincere, but most important of all, he was our brother. He fought with us, cried with us, laughed with us, and in the end he died fighting at our sides. He was one of the bravest men I have ever known, and I hope that wherever he is, he is having one hell of a time.”
“Hear, hear,” the crowd said, raising their glasses and sipping.
“The other man we lost was a very dear friend, Garrett Simmons,” she continued. “But he was not killed. He was released back into the loving arms of his family, free of the evil demon inside of him, free to live his life. He believed in truth and honesty, in bravery, and in sacrificing for those you love the most. May God, or whatever deity might be listening to us, take care of them both until we get there to do it ourselves.”
“Hear, hear,” the crowd said again.
She looked down at the note, then back up to the crowd, not needing to read the words. They were seared into her soul.
“We are the ones who did not make it home,” she began.
“We are the chosen.
The infected,
battling our demons night and day.
Protecting the uninformed from reality.
We fight where the stupid meet the clueless to perform the asinine for our teammates every day.
We are cops, military, special forces, and SWAT,
medical techs, priests, and clergy.
We are the dimensional derelicts,
the legion, the host, the forgotten.
The feared.
The sheep can sleep at night because we don’t.
We fight for humanity—yours—and for our own.
We are the Damned, and death is our enemy,
our esca
pe,
and our tribute.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
“Did you see Calvin bust some serious moves on the dance floor last night?” Katie asked, laughing as she lounged on the couch in the base’s common area. “I seriously thought about putting it on YouTube and making him a sensation, but considering that we’re ghosts I thought I should hold off.”
“You could have replaced my face with, like, Usher’s or something.” Calvin whined just a bit. “I worked hard for those moves!”
“Or Ronald McDonald’s,” she replied. “That would have been hilarious.”
The bell to the loading dock rang and Calvin shook his head, running down the stairs to answer.
Katie looked through her phone, laughing at the dozen memes Derek had sent her that morning. He was crazy for those things, and she had to admit she was starting to find them hilarious.
“Derek, you should seriously consider making your own memes,” she called out. “Just don’t use my face on them.”
“I don’t have the patience,” he replied, walking over to the table while eating an apple.
“Mail is here,” Calvin called, jogging back up the stairs.
Korbin laughed. “Mail? Who gets mail here?”
“Apparently Katie gets plainly-wrapped boxes all the way from Italy,” Calvin answered, setting the box on the table and looking down at it.
“Oh, yay,” she said, jumping up and running over to the table.
The guys had surrounded the box, looking down at it longingly. Katie stopped and pulled her eyebrows together, laughing at their reaction.
You would have thought none of them had seen a box before.
“What’s in it?” Calvin asked.
“None of your business,” she said, pushing through them and slapping them on the shoulders. “Move your asses.”
“Is it something precious?” Derek asked. He was in a trancelike state, reaching his finger toward the box.
“No,” she said, roughly stomping on Derek’s foot.
“Ouch!” he yelled, hopping up and down while holding his toe. “You fight demons for a living, yet you find it necessary to resort to stomping on my feet?”