by Doug Burbey
Barry typed a series of messages out on his tablet as Kelvin sat quietly and watched through the windows as the Washington Mall moved past slowly, while the vehicles headed back towards the Pentagon.
"Barry?"
"What?"
"You are coming to the picnic and bringing those incredible deviled eggs, right?"
"Oh for fuck's sake, Kelvin. Yes."
Kelvin closed his eyes and smiled.
Chapter 23 - VFW Scene
Declan pulled into the parking lot of the VFW and shut off his truck.
Damn, I need this. Hope Andrew can make it. I need something that doesn't involve demons and does involve booze. Huh, wonder if I should start seeing if I can get a ride to this place. Nah, I know how to hold my booze. Worst case, I'll sleep in the truck. Oh, who am I kidding? I ain't getting so drunk I can't drive. Not here. I got that drunk and I'd be an easy target. I don't like being an easy target.
He climbed out but took a moment to scan the place. Ever since that damn drone, he'd become a lot more paranoid and always carried. No one here would ever say anything. Most of them had weapons on too. Hell, he'd be more surprised if there was someone that didn't come here armed.
You're getting old. Quit lollygagging and get to the food and booze.
His mental chiding made him smile as he walked in, still scanning. Getting jumped once made an impression.
The noise and smells of beer, frying oil, old smoke, and a bit of sweat swamped him as he pulled open the door. Declan smiled and felt some of the stress drop off as he signed in and made his way into the place. It was busy for a weekday but he saw Andrew there in the back and headed in that direction.
Andrew Cabello planned a bit more than he did and usually took a taxi or ride-share to the VFW so he didn't need to worry about what condition he left in. Declan reached the table and pulled back a chair, angling it a bit so he could get a decent portion of the room in his view. Too bad they couldn't make restaurants where every seat had your back to the wall.
"Hey, how's it hanging?"
"Still attached last time I checked. Why? You think you want to check and make sure they're still there?" Andrew asked arching a brow and smirking at him.
"Thanks, but don't swing that way. You can do your own checking." Declan grinned feeling something like good humor settling in.
"How goes the demon-killing business? Still doing that?" Andrew already had a pitcher of beer on the table and pushed a spare glass towards Declan.
Hell, you don't have to tell me twice.
Declan poured the beer and concentrated on that first, more important than answering the question. When at least a third of the glass of beer had slid down his throat he set the glass back down on the table.
"It goes. Too damn busy for my liking. Seems like they've got me running all over the area every other day. It's cutting into my drinking and football time." He groused with humor. Andrew, however, didn't laugh.
"Huh. That busy? Didn't think that many demons had been missed in the cleanup." He twisted the beer glass around and Declan sighed.
"We didn't. I should know. Spent a good six months after Ypsilanti and prior to the final armistice doing that cleanup. These are new. Idiots are opening portals and letting them in. Luckily most mages can't open a major portal or hold it open for more than a few minutes. But yeah, demons." A bit of the good humor faded, and he sighed. "Where's Casey? I need food before I die of starvation."
As if summoned by his words, Casey came out of the kitchen with a tray of nachos headed towards them.
"Andrew, here's your order. Kenner," he nodded as he put the food on the table. "What can I get you?"
Declan's eyes were locked on the nachos and he felt more than heard Andrew laugh. "Help yourself. I figured you would. Casey, can you get me a double hamburger with steamed veggies on the side?"
"Sure," Casey said looking at Declan. "You?"
He had a laden nacho half way to his mouth and paused. "You going all healthy on me now?"
"Hell no. But I figured with the nachos some fiber might be helpful. Gotta stay regular you know."
"Point. Can I get the chicken fried steak with a salad and loaded baked potato?"
"Yep. Assume you want another pitcher of beer too?"
"Always," though it came out more like ‘awrarys' as his mouth was full of nachos. Casey rolled his eyes and headed back to the bar and kitchen.
Neither Andrew nor he spoke for the next few minutes. Declan hadn't realized how hungry he was until after he started to eat. By the time they both came up for air, the huge plate was half empty and the pitcher was completely empty.
"Guess I needed that."
Andrew shrugged at his words. "We both did and here comes Casey with more food and beer." His voice trailed off oddly as his gaze remained on the door to the VFW. "Hey, you know that guy?" He nodded at the man that had just walked in.
Declan finished off the beer and followed Andrew's gaze. "Huh. Maybe? Is that Randolph Drimori?"
"Randy?" Andrew asked then nodded slowly. "Yeah, I think that's him. Didn't he do a few runs with us?"
"Yeah, he served. Made it to the other side, but missed the final action after getting wounded. Heard he went merc." Declan watched the man and waited until he caught his eye, then waved him over.
As he got closer Declan knew it was the same man. A few years older, few pounds heavier, but the same ruddy face, strong shoulders, and if he remembered correctly, ice in his blood. The man had never even flinched when the demons were coming through, just aiming and firing as fast as he could and taking down targets as they were called. Andrew had been the one calling a lot of the targets in over the radio.
"Hell, DK and Andrew? Hell, it's good to see faces I recognize. Mind if I join you?"
"Nah, take a load off and tell us what you've been up to." Casey reached the table, dropped the pitcher on it, and looked at the newcomer.
"What can I get you?"
"Another pitcher, but make it a bit darker? Lager? Been drinking so much European stuff the American brew is too light now. Hamburger, fries, and a water?"
"Got it."
Declan helped himself to some more nacho's looking at Randy.
"Where the hell you been you've been working on the Euro-beers?"
Randy sighed and glanced at the nachos.
"Help yourself, if someone doesn't we won't have any room for our food," Andrew commented as he refilled his and Declan's beer glasses, leaning back to watch the man.
He does look a bit exhausted, like he's seen too much shit lately. And here I thought the world was pretty quiet. That’s what the news tells us every day.
A vague sense of unease whispered at him but the application of the new beer helped push that to the back.
"So, yeah. You know I went private hire, right? Army didn't want me no more but I didn't have anything else I was good at. Got with a unit doing cleanup work over in Europe and into Russia. God, what was left of Moscow. Seeing that on the TV was one thing, walking through what was left is totally different. Let's say we don't realize how quiet it is here." He took a few bites then shook his head. "The European ICER guys are hiring mercs right and left and I swear it seems like every country thinks they are the best things ever. But so far they don't impress me all that much."
"Why? Not helping with demons? Are there lots of demons?" Andrew asked even as Declan made his grip on his glass relax a bit. These were strong beer glasses but he didn't need to see if he could break one, that might be a bit stupid.
"More than you would think. But no," Randy paused eating another bite. "Just the causality rates are through the roof. Don't get me wrong. People die. But I swear every time I turned around another squad had lost one or two men. And we won't go into how many just disappeared."
Declan tilted his head. "What do you mean by disappeared?"
"That's it, I'm not sure. They would just be gone. Some were killed other ways, drinking and driving, domestic stupidity, you know. But we all dr
ink and most of us know not to get in a car if we can't drive." He grunted then smiled as Casey set a pitcher of a dark brown lager on the table and disappeared. Randy filled his glass and took a long drink, sighing in pleasure as he put the glass down.
"Then there are the battle mages."
That caused Declan's back to stiffen. "What do you mean?" He and mages didn't get along all that well.
"They’re disappearing too, and the ones that are still there are scared. These are ones that served, not the young idiots who think summoning demons is cool. These are the ones who watched all their friends die as they tried to keep the hordes back. These are the hardcore, solid, battle mages. Them being scared of something makes me nervous and you add in the rumors - rumors about a global plan that doesn't involve us? Hell, I don't know. But I figured it was time to get out. I've got money saved and the US still has armed civilians. Lots of European countries rolled that back. I want people to be able to fight and I can't afford to live in Switzerland."
All three of them laughed a bit at that. Switzerland had only ramped up their edicts when the demons showed up. Every citizen carried a gun and most businesses had rifles, not small ones but .50 Barretts available if they were needed. Everyone who had a real understanding of what the demons could do wanted to live in Switzerland. Plus, the landscape made it difficult for a horde to traverse with any speed.
"We all want to live there. So, you here for good?" Andrew Cabello asked.
"Probably. Just a lot of friends have disappeared. Hell, they lost a fifteen-man team in Australia two weeks ago."
"Shit, really?" Declan paused on the way to get more nachos. That was a huge team to lose for anything short of a sub-horde coming through.
And I really hope if a horde does come through we hear about it. Otherwise…
The ramifications of that thought turned his stomach and he decided on more beer instead.
"Yeah. So, I'm out. Got a sister down in Florida and think I'll find a place on the Keys. Too shallow for whatever is bugging ships in the oceans and too soft for any of the really big demons to handle."
"Huh. They still losing ships?" Cabello asked even as he made room at the table. Casey dropped all their food, took the empty pitchers, and left mustard and ketchup without asking.
"Remind me to give him a big tip," Declan said as he directed his attention to his salad.
"Will do," Andrew said but looked back at Randy, still waiting for an answer.
"As far as I know, yes. Mostly subs. Think they've pulled them all back. The huge cargo carriers don't seem to get bugged much. But our ships, the mid-sized ones are there, then gone. They never even get any maydays off. I suppose it’s possible there's a coupe going on and they are all held up at some island somewhere but it is affecting all the fleets… well, any fleet that crosses the Atlantic. The Pacific and the smaller ones aren't seeing this level of disappearance." Randy snorted. "At this rate, the entire ocean is going to be declared a no man's land."
"Ouch. That will definitely suck for the East Coast for trade."
"Maybe. A lot of ships have started going up near Iceland, then back down. The best guess, not that the governments will admit to anything actually being in the water, is that whatever it is doesn't like the cold."
"Joy. Good thing I like American beer." Declan smirked at the other two. They both laughed and the conversation drifted into sports, fishing, and other things that had nothing to do with death or dying.
Chapter 24 - Stooges Call
Kayter seriously considered throwing her computer against the wall. All the little Ley line crossings kept having blips of power flowing through them. So low the alarms for a portal didn't go off, but it meant something. The problem? She had no idea what it meant. Checking against other areas of the country they didn't have these low-level pings. Only in this general area.
It makes no sense, what is pinging the Ley lines? It’s not at the level the demons would use to tie a portal to, even with human help. It’s like someone, or something is testing the lines for throughput of low-level magics.
Throwing her hands up, she grabbed her sword and stepped out of the RV before she threw something irreplaceable. Stripping out of her jacket she started working out, sit-ups, push-ups, pull-ups, anything to burn off the frustration. She broke into a nice sweat and thought she might be ready to start going through sword drills when the ringing from her laptop grabbed her attention.
Frowning she headed back into the RV and looked at the computer.
‘Incoming call' flashed on the screen.
She ran through who knew the number in her mind but hit accept even as she mulled it over.
"Yes?"
"Um, yeah this is Gary?"
Gary, who the fuck is Gary?
"Yeah?"
"Um, is this the scary lady in the woods who kicked our asses?"
Ah, the light dawns.
"Hello, Gary. Is there a reason you're calling? Anything interesting to tell me?" Her voice dropped to a throaty purr.
Finally, something to do.
She settled down into the chair grabbing a pencil and paper.
"Well, we talked to some of our professors and they backed up what you said. So, me and Sean decided to tell you if we heard anything. Well, they just got a hold of us and told me something I thought you'd like to know." His voice wavered as he talked and the last word he squeaked.
"And what would that be?"
His voice shook a bit. "Just don't tell anyone I told you okay? Cause I think they might hurt me if they find out I told you anything."
"No one told me anything, I haven't talked to anyone."
"Oh good. Well look, they called us late yesterday and said they might need some help with a little spell they have going on up at this park near a college today. They wanted us to come and promised us we'd never forget. But something sounds off about it. I thought I'd tell you."
"College, which college?"
"Oh, MIT. The magic department. They gave us an address." He rattled off the address and she scribbled it down quickly. "It’s at one of the minor crossings up there. They said we should be there by three o’clock."
"Three today? And you are just now calling me?"
The other end went silent and she waited.
"Well, we had to think about it. Decide and well, it's a long drive and I thought it didn't sound like a good idea. So, I called you. At least I did that much, so I've done my good deed. Remember this, okay?"
"Next time, call me sooner. But keep your ears and eyes open, Gary. And just think, maybe you’ve saved some lives. If I can get there in time."
"Sure." He hung up and she pulled up the maps and cringed as the distance popped up.
How real was this information? The part that made her believe it was the odd phrase of “promised we'd never forget” sounded like a way to get rid of witnesses.
Fuck.
She glanced at the clock and cringed.
That was a nine-plus hour drive. If she avoided cops and barely stopped, she might be able to do it seven. Maybe.
Fuck, I can't afford not to go but I swear if they are yanking my chain, I am going to track them down and skin them alive.
Kayter jumped up and started packing for a horde invasion. Guns, ammo, her sword, her flexible armor (which fit her almost like a body suit), leg armor, and her boots were placed around her body. Packing up the saddlebags, she locked the RV and then cut her finger. With deliberate precision she allowed ten drops of blood to fall on the enchantment inscribed on her gas tank. Then another five on the enchantments on the engine to keep it silent.
With luck, she'd be there before they started. Without luck, well, maybe not everyone would be dead.
Chapter 25 - Calling in Reinforcements
Declan hung up the phone and thought about the assignment Cordy told him about.
So, Boston huh? That's a nine-hour drive. I'm not doing that shit the old-fashioned way. Not to mention that at this point I'd have to be tearing ou
t of here to pull that off.
Declan reached into the ubiquitous junk drawer everybody had in their house and started rummaging around. He pulled out a business card that read Gregory Donahue, Shillelagh Law.
I'm going to need a ride and having a little extra muscle never hurt. Greg is a lot of muscle.
He dialed the number at the bottom of the card of the law office and waited for someone to pick up.
After about five rings a gruff voice answered. "Yeah, what do you want?"
"Mr. Donahue, is that any way to answer the phone for a professional business number, let alone a law firm?"
"Course it is when I don't really want any clients and when I'm hungover."
"Plus, you probably don't really want a client that's not going to pay you anything."
"Holy fuck! DK is that you?" Greg's tone lighted considerably with the recognition of Declan's voice.
"Yep, it's me, Bunyan. How you been doing, brother?"
"Man, I haven't been called Bunyan in years. Not since the war. But hey, not bad. I'd be even better if I didn't have such a pounding headache."
"That's because you're not supposed to drink the entire bottle of Jim Beam in one sitting Greg."
"Well, it's not like I'm saving it for anything. Besides, I got plenty where that came from and if I run out, they'll make more. Or maybe that's the potato chip guy, I'm not sure."
"You do know they put a screw top on those things for a reason?"
"Like you're one to talk, DK. I don't think there's a bottle of beer you've met that you haven't fallen in love with."
"While that is absolutely true, I didn't call you out of the blue to discuss our functional alcoholism traits."
"Good, cuz that's a lame conversation."
"I need a favor, Bunyan."
"Well, fine then, DK. Now that I'm feeling the brotherly love and all. What can Shillelagh Law do for you? And by the way, you're going to get billed whether you like it or not, even if you call it a favor asshole." His voice held humor and interest.