Demon Venom: Sometimes, humans are worse than demons (Beneath the Flesh Book 2)

by Alex Kings

  Jess smiles at her. “Sure,” she said. “Thanks.”

  After Patel had gone, Luke sat down beside her. Silence hung between them. Half of Jess wanted to be left alone – and the other wanted him to stay here forever. She sighed and leaned into him. It seemed like there's nothing to say that wasn't so trivial it would be insulting, or so big that it needed to wait.

  In the end she settled on, “You'll get me the work sheets tomorrow?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Thanks.” She ran the palm of her left hand over her arm. “For everything.”

  “Sure.”

  She didn't remember much after that – just the overwhelming need to sleep.

  Chapter 8

  They'll come eventually.

  But something's not right. It's sure of that now … but it doesn't know what.

  *

  When Jess woke, she lay motionless on her back for a few seconds. It felt like she had to wait for something. What, precisely, she had no idea – only the notion that it would make everything better.

  The spider-legs protruding from beneath her ribs slowly retreated into their holes. When she tried to move, the site of the previous day's operation shone like a star of pain.

  She grimaced and sat up anyway. Then she slowly set about washing and getting ready.

  The dream. What was it? Most of it was gone already, but a few bits stuck in her memory. Enough now that she knew it was a new kind of dream. It had only started in the hospital.

  Which meant something.

  Before she could have a go at puzzling it out, there was a knock at the door. “It's me,” Luke called.

  It took a moment to stifle the pain in her side. Then she opened the door to find him carrying a a couple of paper wallets. “Hey,” she said, letting him in and putting the wallets aside on the bed. “Thank you.” She made to hug him – and he responded, but in a cold way.

  “The people on office shift said everything you need is there – including a summary of what they worked on while you were away.”

  She picked up one of the wallets, pulled out the filed inside, and skimmed them. “Yeah,” she said, “everything's there.”

  “I gotta go to my shift. They said they'll call back this evening to pick up what you've done.”

  She chewed on her lower lip. “Alright,” she said. “Thanks again.”

  After he'd gone, she sat down on her bed in silence. She stared at the door, then at her arms. Then she picked up the folder and started getting herself up to speed.

  Not much had been done. A few suggestions about nearest routes, and a few more resource calculations. Easy enough to progress then.

  It was nice, she thought to herself, to have a solvable problem to worry about. No, being perfectly honest, that wasn't it. No, really, it was nice to have a problem to worry about that wasn't about her.

  She checked the calculations the team had done the previous day, made a few quick additions, then looked at the possibilities.

  They had three vans. Two were already on trade routes. The remaining one had to check out all the possible trade options. Which led to a decision:

  Ironbridge or Goat's Head – which first?

  Ironbridge was the better choice, almost certainly. The journey was safer. From what they knew, it was more likely to have goods Paradise Compound needed, and more likely to want the goods Paradise Compound could offer. Goat's Head was further away, more dangerous to get to, and slightly less likely to want to trade.

  The tip of her pencil came to rest near Ironbridge as their next attempt.

  It went to Goat's Head.

  No, she told herself. You're not in this position to be selfish. She settled on Ironbridge as their next destination.

  If it didn't work out, it would only take a couple more days to send a van to Goat's Head.

  She started writing a letter to Ironbridge offering their trade goods. It couldn't be too needy – that was asking to be taken advantage of – but not too arrogant either.

  Chapter 9

  A little after midday there came a knock on the door. Jess put her work aside and, after slipping a shirt on, went to get it.

  It was Richard. He was holding something on a tray. “I thought I'd bring you lunch.”

  Without thinking, she brushed back the worst of the tangles on her hair. “Hey,” she said. “Thanks. Come in.” She took the tray and put it on the table, then sat on the bed beside it. Standard rations: A bowl of soup, some vegetables, and some water.

  Richard closed to door behind him and looked around. She felt a slight sinking feeling – here was someone else who was going to ask how the operation went, how she was feeling – all that tiresome stuff.

  But he didn't. After asking how she was – politely, but without pushing the issue – Richard went onto another topic: “Dale and his cronies have been kicking up a fuss again,” he said.

  Jess looked up from her soup. “What now?”

  “He got out his soapbox. I'm not kidding – he got an actual box to stand on, and he started giving a speech between shifts. It was about how Foxglove only cut off trade because they thought we were weak – and how other compounds will do the same if we don't change. He even said the work to find new trade routes was taking too long.”

  Jess smiled and patted one of the folders. “This work here, then? Did he mention my name?”

  “Not that I could hear. I'd imagine he knows attacking you at this point would lose him support.”

  Jess ate her soup without saying anything. The “semi-hero status” still made her feel vaguely uncomfortable. Eventually she replied, “How bad do you think it's going to get?”

  Richard thought about this. “Depends on how quick our trading crisis is solved. I think some of them really do expect a coup, but they won't make a move unless things get worse. Another couple of weeks should be fine. We might see some violence, but nothing to actually threaten the compound.”

  “If we can't resolve the crisis?” Jess had finished her soup. She took a quick drink of water.

  “Then I don't know.” Richard sighed. “It might be time to consider moving on in that case.”

  Jess pushed the empty tray aside. “Well, thanks for the bad news, anyway.” She grinned. “It's a nice distraction from everything else going wrong.”

  Richard put a hand on her shoulder. “Any time.”

  She let it stay for a moment without saying anything. Then she grabbed one of the folders. “By the way, could you drop this by the trading office? We're ready to send out a van now – let's not keep Mr. Dale waiting, eh?”

  Before Richard could respond, there was another knock at the door.

  “Hm,” said Jess, struggling for a moment to get to her feet. “Looks like I'm really popular today.”

  “It's me,” said a voice from the other side. Dr. Patel.

  Jess opened the door. Patel stood there, holding a small black leather bag. She greeted Jess, then looked over at Richard.

  He had already gathered up the tray and the folder Jess had pointed out to him. “This looks important,” he said. “I'll get out of your way. Goodbye, Jess.” He nodded to Patel as he moved around her to get to the door. “Doctor.” Then he was gone, closing the door behind him.

  Briefly they could hear his footsteps outside, fading away. Patel glanced at the door then back again, a soft crease on her brow.

  “You certainly seem to be getting on very well with him lately,” she said mildly.

  Jess shrugged. “He brought me lunch,” she said. “And he's been giving me news about the political side of the crisis.”

  “Hm,” said Patel. “The political crisis, along with the trading crisis, and the demon crisis? You like finding stuff to worry about, don't you?”

  “It's a good hobby,” said Jess. And, she didn't add, it was a good distraction from thinking about what the parasite was doing to her. She pushed the conversation away from herself and back to Richard: “Luke doesn't trust him.”

  Patel nodde
d thoughtfully. She rubbed her chin. “I wouldn't go that far. Well … not yet anyway. But he does seem to have joined our conspiracy rather too eagerly.”

  “Maybe.”

  “Anyway, that's not what I came to talk to you about.” Patel put her bag down. “How are you getting along? Is the pain any worse today?”

  Jess shifted a little on the bed and felt the jab in her side. “No. I … think it's getting better,” she said. “Itches a lot, though.”

  “That's normal,” said Patel. “I just want to have a quick look.”

  Jess lifted to side of her shirt and t-shirt below while Patel examined her.

  “All good?”

  “All good.”

  “Well, that was easy,” said Jess. “Unless there's something else?”

  Patel smiled. “There is, actually.” She picked up her bag and opened it, saying, “I've been doing some experiments on the demon objects you gave me. I don't have much to work with, so it didn't really take that long. I thought you might like to see some of the results.”

  From her bag she pulled out a collection of sealed plastic petri dishes and handed the first to Jess. In the bottom there was a thick amber fluid. It looked rather like honey, but shimmered in a way that looked slightly unreal.

  “This is some liquid I extracted from the egg. I still don't know its purpose, but I thought you might want to have a look at it by itself.”

  Jess tipped the petri dish back and forth. For a moment she felt the presence in her mind come alive again. It wriggled through her thoughts like a grub. And – cold, alone, waiting – memories of dreams pulled closer to her awareness.

  “Jess?” said Patel.

  Jess shifted the petri dish one more time, watching the light glitter on its surface, then handed it back to Patel. “Okay, that's the egg liquid by itself.”

  Patel handed her a second petri dish, also sealed. In the middle of this one was something solid. It looked like a shrivelled, wrinkled lump of jelly, mottled in yellows and browns.

  “That's what happens to a sample of the egg liquid when I added a drop of of the venom – and I'm quite sure you're right, it is venom – produced by your parasite.”

  Jess turned the sample round a couple of times. It quivered slightly, but was otherwise still. From this one, she got no feeling at all, apart from a slight revulsion at it's ugliness.

  “Finally, this is what happens why I try to mix the venom with a blood sample.” The third and final petri dish was just thick, red, ordinary blood. Jess moved it back and forth. Floating in it, without mixing, was a tiny droplet of transparent-looking liquid.

  “They don't even mix,” explained Patel. “That's your blood, but I also tried it with a sample of my own and didn't get any result there, either.”

  “So,” summarised Jess, “the venom is extremely poisonous to demon, but has no effect at all on humans?”

  “It looks like things might lie in that direction yes. But just because we don't see an immediate visual effect on contact doesn't mean it's harmless. It could be poisonous in other ways. And, while it quite clearly has a strong effect on the sample I got from the demon egg … that's just one piece of data. We don't know if it will affect other demons in the same way.”

  “It killed the demon back in the hospital,” said Jess.

  “Yes, there is that.”

  “What about the spider-leg you got out of me? Is it still moving?”

  “It is. I tried … feeding it, like you suggested. Some oatmeal, some meat. It doesn't seem to have done anything to the oats, but it's growing roots, I suppose you could call them, into the meat.”

  Jess studied her arm. “Yes, it does seem like doing that to me too.”

  Patel made a noise which seemed to say she agreed, but didn't want to put it so callously. Eventually she said, “It's also still producing venom. I've begun storing it. In a separate container.”

  “It might be useful as a demon weapon,” said Jess.

  “Possibly,” said Patel. “It might even help with the surgery, if it can be used to poison the parasite itself.”

  “Oh, right.”

  “But I wouldn't want to risk using it until I know a little more about its capabilities.”

  Jess leant back against the head of the bed and considered this. Perhaps, she thought, if she could get some demon flesh to experiment on, things would go faster.

  Chapter 10

  Dreams again:

  The faithful dog, the faithful pet, waiting along in this cold, dark place is still waiting for its masters. It's spread across the entire surface of the planet, a web of flesh and tendrils tens of thousands of miles long, constantly working.

  It knows now something has gone wrong. It works and it works and it works, but can't seem to finish. Nothing is coming out right. Where everything should be perfect and clean and pure, there's just a mess of hybrid organisms. What started out as a minor itch, a tiny worry, has swallowed its existence.

  The problem is everywhere, and yet it still can't find it. Its masters haven't taught it to deal with something like this. All it can do is work, and wait.

  It despairs of ever seeing its masters.

  *

  The next morning, Jess went to the office. The pain in her side had faded. It still stung, but it was manageable.

  Her mind was alive with thoughts and plans, so many that it was a struggle keeping them straight by themselves, let alone while working. That was a good thing – it meant she didn't have much time to devote to worrying about her future.

  First, there was the standard business of the day. She learned that since Richard had delivered her plans from yesterday, the van to Ironbridge was already being prepped. It was due to leave this afternoon. For the moment, the main effort was over, and all she had to do was some basic accounting for goods and materials used in the recent set of repairs. Easy enough, if if boring.

  Second, there was her dream last night. It had been clearer than any so far. She remembered more of it than the others. And she felt like she was on the brink of understanding what all that loneliness, all that coldness meant. She suspected she was communicating, somehow, with a demon. Would that come in useful? Maybe if should just understand a little more. And, finally, what had brought it on – her encounter with the egg liquid?

  Third, and finally, there was the plan to get demon flesh. It had started out as a vague hope when Patel mentioned it to her, but over the course of that night and this morning, the idea had sketched out its details in her mind. The liquid in the egg, she suspected, was what allowed her to talk to demons. Back in the hospital it had summoned the demon dogs. It had given her the dreams before, and strengthened them last night.

  So perhaps, if she did it right, she could use it to summon a demon. Immediate problem: How would she summon just one demon, and not an army? Maybe she'd just have to keep a clear picture in her mind. Then if that worked, if a demon did come, she couldn't just go out and get it. If it breached the walls, it would just get shot and incinerated. She might be able to sneak a bit of it away before then, but it was still too dangerous to get a demon inside the walls. What else? Maybe she could leave the compound with Luke again on some mad- up mission, then summon the demon.

  She wasn't sure. All she did know was that she needed Luke in on this. Probably without telling him about the egg.

  When the end of her shift came, she went out for a walk. She wandered through the compound, thinking over the problem of how to get a demon without endangering anyone. The wound in her side blinked out pain with each step. The presence in her mind wriggled slightly, turned over, then settled again. She had started imagining it rather like some sort of maggot or worm in her brain. That was hardly less grim than the reality.

  Approaching the loading bay, she ran into Luke. After they'd hugged, they began walking together, still at a slow, comfortable pace.

  “Glad to see you're up again,” said Luke.

  “Thanks. Me too.” This was true; Jess had hated being conf
ined to her room yesterday.

  “Are you feeling up to it, though?”

  “Yeah. I'm okay.”

  For a minute or so, they walked on in silence.

  “I heard the next van is going to Ironbridge and not's Goat's Head,” said Luke