†Reverend Jones†
Lord, give me strength. Let me be strong and upright and true. Let me do Your will…
Hat, scarf, coat, wallet – better leave it – watch, keys, handkerchief, umbrella… coins! You imbecile! You cannot make a call without coins. Doubtful a man such as the one you are calling would accept a collect call. No, not a man like this… but sometimes men like this must be used and if I must sacrifice for the protection of the flock, so be it. Where was I? Coins!
Where would you be without the Lord, Joseph? The gutter.
Lord, give me strength to do this, for I know it is Your will. You are the shepherd of Your flock and the wolves are grazing among us. I know that it was providence this number came to me, as strange as the circumstances were. Thank You, Lord.
Looks like it will rain after all. Glad to have brought my – what was that? Gunfire nearby. The air crackles with Satan’s laugh as he beckons more souls. I mustn’t dawdle. This demon, Val, must be stopped. I have seen him before in my dreams, yes several times. He is the new form of the demon I cast out before behind Neil Farbrow’s Bakery. His new plot could already be in motion and the flock must not be seduced by the lure of false prophets. Where would you be without the Lord, Joseph? The gutter, mother.
This phone booth is further than I remember, or my bones are older than I thought. I can’t use my phone though, it’s probably tapped. I mustn’t stop using my phone altogether though. They will suspect something. No, I will continue to conduct things as usual. This phone call will take care of the rest. Strange though how eager was the man who contacted me. He didn’t want entry, he didn’t want anything, except to convey to me his employer and his employer’s knowledge of what Val was. His employer had but one condition, a “yes,” from my lips.
Seven digits and a name are all the card contains. Twenty-five cents worth of salvation. I hear the coin echo like my heart falling into my belly. Lord, give me strength.
Odd. I didn’t hear it ring. “Hello?”
It’s dark outside, all around me, but the Lord is my light – my light in the booth.
Ugh, Joseph, you’re getting old. Wrinkles in your reflection. So many wrinkles. Each one a sin. You wicked, filthy little…
Fifty cents worth of salvation. Please Lord, let there be an answer. Let us foil this conspiracy. You have shown me the evil and I will strike it down. “Hello?” Lord, give me strength. Lord, give me – dear God! “Please don’t kill me! Let me go. I was just making a phone call!”
“Quiet!” It’s the voice of Satan himself! A metallic emptiness echoes in his throat as the hands of a man grip me by the collar. He tosses me down a hill, then lifts me off my back before I stop rolling. It must be the demon, come to take me! A car passes and light flashes across the demon. I am in a drainage ditch with the devil! It’s dark now. I can hear his hollow breathing. His face is blank, white; his eyes black and empty like those of a mask.
“A name…” The voice is terrible, inhuman and as empty as his eyes. He shakes me, his breath coming out of a mouth unmoving, exhaling a familiar scent. It’s moist medicine, the taste of an inhaler for asthmatics.
“You called me!” it growls.
Not Val but… Euthos? The name on the silver business card! The man’s employer. A demon to slay a demon. I start to ask if he is the man I was trying to contact but he clamps down on my mouth.
“Give me his name. Say his name.”
The devil cackles once more in the distance. The Lord is silent.
“Val.”
Euthos releases his grip and is gone. But I am alive. God has saved me. Where would I be without the Lord?
†Val†
Two girls enter the club. Underage – but still a C and D cup. Showing ‘em off too. You can tell they’re not women yet 'cause they don’t know how to be sexy, just mostly naked. Cleavage ain’t a skill. This place shocks one of ‘em – the C cup. Can’t blame her. Lots to take in for an undarkened. Lots of very out-in-the-open shit takin’ place, you know? The D cups drinking it up though. Well not really. But pretty soon someone else will be. Either off her tits or the bathroom floor, depending how it goes down. Two more girls come in but they don’t look as much like prey as the first two, so I ignore ‘em. The first two walk onto the catwalk.
I didn’t want to meet here. This place is a nightmare logistically, both for an ambush and escaping one. When you come into Ribcage, you go down a long hallway. Then the floor drops away as you hit the club itself. It’s like the whole first floor was removed so you’re looking into the basement. And the ceiling is gone too so you’re looking up at the roof with open skylights. On the basement floor is a whole shit load of people and mosh pits and in the center is a cage in the shape of a dome. It’s like those ones on playgrounds but all the way enclosed. And inside of that is a band. I wonder how they get in an out. Up above all of that – the whole rest of the club – are cat walks and cages hanging from wires. And all the platforms sway and shift so you can imagine that the drunks that fall off the top one hit everything on the way down. It gets pretty rowdy.
The bar is the biggest platform, built around a giant heart the size of a party van. It’s stable here, not like the other platforms, so it’s where I perch. Anyways, the two sets come over where I’m at and take a seat. No clue they’re being stalked. Hell, I’d be on ‘em if I wasn’t here for business. And it’s not just vampires stalking them – although you can’t swing a dead baby in here without hitting a dozen week-olds – there’s regular old men in here too. A vamp takes an interest in the double dees and does a parlor trick to seduce her. He kisses her wrist and then tells her, her birthday. She denies she’s underage. He buys her a shot and she shoots its fast, not realizing it’s blood till the after-taste. They get up and head to the bathroom to fuck and suck.
But see, I’m rooting for the other guy – the human trying to get with the cees. A human who can get a girl when he’s competing with vampires is my fuck’n hero. Not that his mark is a hard target – seventeen with daddy issues. It’s basically the first penis she meets, right? You can tell she wants the attention though, she just doesn’t understand yet that it comes in the form of… cum. But enough of that shit – I’m here for another reason. A contact named Bindu is supposed to meet me here to discuss a bunch of humans looking to get in bed with the supernaturals before the offer gets taken off the table. It’s still an hour before we’re supposed to meet, and if I don’t get another drink soon, I’m gonna lose my bar stool to one of these leeches. I start to motion for the bartender but then suddenly spot Bindu. He’s on a platform level with the bar but halfway across the club. Then he throws me a curve ball. He waves at me…
I didn’t think we were good enough friends for him to give his life for me, but that’s what he does. Before I duck away at his warning wave – because who the fuck would wave on their way to a secret meeting? – I see a white mask behind him. I basically shit my pants. I don’t have to look again to know Bindu just took a shiv in his side and a two story drop onto the crowd. No need to play it cool – I’m next if I don’t get the fuck out.
I push through a crowd of people on the way to the bathroom. It’s the only actual room – more like a hallway – in the place with a floor and ceiling and a window at the opposite side. Maybe if I can get to the truck outside, I have a chance to live a few more hours. I lean back out the bathroom door and toss a smoke grenade. I hear it roll off the catwalk into the basement. Smoke begins to fill up the area. The skylights will suck it out like a hooker on a deadline but for the meantime, I have some cover. I push through the car wash of bodies to the window and empty the forty-five into the wall in a tight grouping. The plan: wedge a grenade in the hole, run to the middle stall and cover. Grenade, pin, run, stall. Shit. A girl and a guy still in the stall – didn’t they hear the gunshots? No time. Drop to the side and pull the broad on top of you. Detonation. Next step: push the bitch off, get to the hole in the wall. Climb down and get to the truck. Execute. I twis
t my ankle on the last drop, but I can hack it. Evade. Get to the truck and get to the freeway. Execute.
†Alana†
I lock the door to my room. Paul pushes my dresser in front of it. I can hear my parent’s coming up the stairs. I try not to, but the more I try, the more the tears come. My face is all wrinkled as I bury it in Paul’s chest. I grab onto the back of his shirt and squeeze it between my fingers. This can’t be happening. I’m shaking all over. Oh god, what will I do without him? I can’t even bear it. I couldn’t live without him. His chest is cold. So are his arms wrapped around me. He’s so sturdy and strong, but I can’t help rubbing his shoulders to get the warmth to come back. It won’t though.
I look up at his big brown eyes and pale cheeks and touch his face. I let my thumb touch his lips and press against one of his fangs. I remember the first time I did that. It reminded me of Christmas time and touching the tip of a candy cane that has been sucked down to a sharp point. I must have pushed too hard. Some blood bubbles up on the tip of my finger. Paul sucks on it and looks down at me.
I try to be brave for him but I collapse into his chest again. I stop myself from crying out, but my body still shakes.
“Don’t worry, babe.” But this just makes it worse. He’s going to be taken from me, and his last words to me are to comfort me.
“Come out of there this instant, goddamnit!” Dad! I can hear mom crying next to him. “If you hurt her!” he roars.
I can hear the crowds outside. The whole neighborhood is gathering. Downstairs, the front door bursts open and more footsteps come up the stairs.
“Now listen to me, you two. My name is Reverend Jones. I know you’re scared, but don’t do anything unnatural. If you come out now, there still might be a chance to save you.”
I can feel Paul shake with anger but he doesn’t say anything. I look back up into his eyes as they focus on the door, hoping, searching for some truth in what was told to us. “Maybe… maybe they will let you go.”
Paul looks down at me and strokes my hair. He smiles at me and for a moment everything is okay there in his arms. I push my cheek into his palm and hold onto him as long as I can.
“Is the girl okay?” Reverend Jones asks.
“She’s fine,” Paul calls back. “I’m going to let her go.”
“No,” I groan, squeezing him, holding onto him like I can make this moment last as long as we stay locked together in an embrace. I won’t let him go. Just a few more seconds. Please.
“Just please, don’t hurt her,” Paul yells through the door. His words are deafening as I lean against his chest.
Paul suddenly leans down, grabs me around the waist with one arm and scoops me up, making his way slowly to the door. With his other hand, he moves the large dresser aside. I drape my head in his neck, lying helpless in the safety of his arms. The door unlocks and Paul sets me down to the side by the dresser. In another moment the door is open, the guns roar, and...
†Val†
I use bolt cutters to pop the lock on the chain-link fence, then prop up the chains after I pull through so it looks like it’s still locked from the street. Not much I can do about the tire tracks without risking Euthos seeing me disguising them from the road. I run back inside the lot to where the truck is parked and find the nearest storage unit big enough to fit it. Bingo. Bolt cutters. Back the truck inside, and think: good thinking on Delano’s part to have had the mechanics snip the wire that makes the thing beep when in reverse. At the payphone near the empty self-storage office, I dial Delano.
“It better be important – Beep.”
“Hey Del – it’s Val. Listen, that last meeting was a bust. The contract was killed by Euthos.” I stop and look around the vacant storage lot. “Delano…. Euthos is after me. I’ll try to get back to Central as soon as I can. Goodbye.”
I hang up the phone and walk back to the truck, my stomach twisted and shaky. Euthos won’t kill unless he has a contract. So unless he’s gotten over his code, someone wants me dead. No surprise there, it could be a lot of people. I close the door to the storage unit. If Euthos still remembers that little incident surrounding my darkening, he was probably only too happy to take the job.
Wait… Jones? No. No, that doesn’t make sense. Euthos would have to have been following me. Was there anyone in the crowd? …one of his handlers maybe?
Kill him! Jones yelled kill him! at me. That isn’t enough for Euthos though, is it? Is he that desperate to kill me?
Suddenly I hear the sound of Euthos’ car. My blood goes cold. It sounds like a hornet right next to your ear, but it’s the engine to his ricer, a long way’s off. I hold my breath but it doesn’t do any good – he knows I’m here. Do I start the truck? I’ll have to drive through the door or open it, and either way it’s gonna be loud. I grab the AK and put it on my lap. The plan: take a deep breath. Crack both windows so you can cheat the AK out to shoot. Turn on the engine – don’t hold the key over too long – feel it with your fingertips till you know the engine turned over then put it in gear. Hit the gas and blow through the door, then cut the wheel right. Go down the lane towards the gate but check right before you turn. Gun it left and make for the fence. Reassess. Execute.
As soon as I turn the engine over I hear the pop and whistle of a rocket propelled grenade. I think it’s over right now and here, but the plan is already goin’. I stomp on the gas and blow through the storage unit door in front of me. Suddenly the whole place rocks and is lit up by a fireball. It’s on the other side of the aisle of the storage lot – he must have hit the propane tank to scare me out of hiding. And damnit, he’ll have the satisfaction of thinking it worked. Damn it! At least I know he’s to the right, no need to check.
I straddle the center console with my left foot on the gas and stick the AK out the passenger side window, left hand steering the right hand firing. I cut left towards the fence shooting blindly but then see something out of the corner of my eye. He is on the left – not the right! Val, you idiot. I let the AK fall in the cab and get fully back into the driver’s seat. Euthos is standing behind the door to his jet-black street racer. He tosses a shoulder tube to the ground and goes back into his cabin for… another one?
I push the beast to its limits, but that isn’t very far. We’re a lumbering target that he pegs with a second RPG. It hits the back end somewhere and I spin around in a one-eighty, almost flipping. It must have hit above the wheel well. When I settle back down I’m facing him, though the truck seems stable enough that I assume I have three and a half tires left. I’m already in reverse and never lost momentum. For a split second I see a flame thrower with a backpack tank sitting in his passenger side seat. Then I cut the wheel and reverse J turn the fucking beast, heading for the freeway again.
It won’t take him long to catch me, I need a new plan. Yup, there he is, flying out of the gate and drifting into the left lane. I pull into the center but she’s not very responsive. Must be down to the run-flat base. On-ramp in three hundred yards. Gun it. Euthos’ hornet gets from the gate to up-my-ass in the time it takes me to get from the “turn here” sign to the ramp itself. You need a new plan. Somewhere through the blood pumping through my ears I hear a train. The plan: get to the train.
The freeway is empty so as Euthos makes a move and zooms up ahead of me just after I merge on, I cut the wheel all the way over, nearly flipping the bitch, and gun it for the median just behind the ramp entrance. He spins around after realizing his mistake but by then I’m already headed for the gap in the overpass at forty miles an hour. Just before the collision, I throw on my seat belt and put my hands in front of my head. I plow through the concrete barrier and topple down through the square hole between the two sides of the highway. I hit my head but feel a great relief when I see that I am looking down into a splintered freight car and moving along the tracks perpendicular to the freeway.
†Reverend Jones†
“It’s okay, Alana,” the mother screams. A kindhearted woman gains respect. “It’s oka
y.” She strokes her daughter’s hair, matting the blood into her scalp. “It’s okay.”
“What’s wrong with her?” the father asks me, worried about his unmoving daughter. What a silly man.
I lean down and get a hold of the girl who seems blind to the world, yet awake. She is a beautiful young thing under all that blood. I take a handkerchief and wipe across her neck looking for bite marks or scars. Next I lift up her hands and hold them delicately while scrutinizing her thin, little wrists. She’s wearing her pajamas: a pink, cottony tank top and matching sweat pants. They feel soft. I check her ankles pulling up her pants to the calf and noticing the softness of her flesh. Lastly, with a tightening in my belly as the authority reveals its power, I pull down at the waistband and check the inside of her thighs by the edges of her panties. Her parents say nothing but look on worriedly, the ignorant whelps. The girl remains limp till I am finished my inspection. I quickly call for a blanket and wrap it around her, giving time for my erection to subside.
“She’s not bitten, but she may have been brainwashed,” I announce.
“It’s okay.” The mother continues to blindly rub the demon blood into the girl’s face and hair and I watch her do this. I look at the blood on her hands like finger paint. “It’s okay.” She rocks herself and her daughter back and forth. Where would I be without the Lord? Lying in mothers arms, covered in blood.
“What do we do?” A neighbor asks me quietly.
“We have to retaliate,” I say. Why hasn’t that blasted Euthos killed Val? How can I be expected to save these people, Lord, with abominations sprouting up like a plague? “The infiltration has already begun.”
“What about Paul’s parents?” The demon-boys parent’s… yes.
Manifest (The Darkening Trilogy) Page 21