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

by Alex Kings

  “It worked, though,” said Jess. “With all their trucks, they might've won, or killed us all in the fight.”

  “You didn't know it would when you summoned them, did you?”

  “No. I thought about all that, you know. But I decided it was worth the risk.”

  “How could you know it was worth it?”

  Jess said nothing. She couldn't explain to him what it felt like, what degree of control she had over the demons. And even if she could, she wasn't sure she could have justified why she made the decision.

  “It saved us,” she said, and pressed her lips together.

  When Luke spoke next, his voice was much quiet, much colder: “You lied to me.”

  “I know.”

  “Why?”

  “You'd have tried to stop me if I didn't.”

  He began to speak. Jess cut him off:

  “We lie to everyone else in the compound, for the same reason. We're all keeping secrets for our own good. Don't you think for one moment you're better than me.”

  Luke said nothing. Eventually he turned away. “It's time to go back to our shifts.”

  Jess let him leave and waited a few seconds before heading out to her own shift. Well she thought, that confession went well. Telling the truth always makes things better.

  And she was still hiding stuff from him. He didn't know about her plan to get the demon flesh to Patel. She's planned to ask him … but after the argument.

  What had she been thinking? Of course it would lead to another argument.

  Walking to her office, she sighed.

  All that was left was to do it alone.

  Chapter 18

  It was near the end of her shift, when the light outside was fading, when Richard dropped by. He was there to pick up some more of the accounting, he said.

  Then he checked the door. There was no-one outside, and Jess was working alone in the office.

  “We now keep most of the keys in the administration office,” he told her. “The office is locked, of course, but I have the key for that.” He pulled it from his pocket. “I'll leave it outside the door tonight, hidden on top the lintel, okay? I'll drop by to get it back early in the morning. I've also made sure no-one will be working there after midnight, so that's the best time to go.”

  Jess looked at the key as he put it back in his pocket. “Got it,” she said. “Thanks.”

  After her shift, she went back to her room without visiting Luke and lay back on her bed, feeling exhausted but not sleepy. Midnight was still two and a half hours away.

  A few minutes later she sat up and took off her shirt, draping it over the end of her bed, so she could see all the holes along her arm and body. At least the holes didn't seem to have spread much further since this morning. She ran the fingers of her good hand over them, tracing the pattern as they avoided the tends and the veins. Just below her skin, something moved, working its way under the flesh. It didn't come to the surface.

  She closed her eyes and concentrated on the presence in her mind. It hardly ever bothered her now. It was like a pet, in a way, that always followed her around.

  A pet, mind you, that was burrowing deeper into her flesh everyday.

  “What's happening to your master, hey?” she said, speaking to the parasite. “It seems like he's having as nearly as bad a time as we are. Things are fucked up all over, that's for sure.”

  The parasite said nothing.

  “I know I shouldn't feel bad for him. He killed most of my species after all. But …” She smiled faintly. “Maybe I should put him out his misery.”

  The parasite still said nothing.

  “I'm glad you agree,” she said, rolling onto her good side. There was a faint twinge in her belly still, from where the operation had been, but it faded rapidly. “Off we go to Goat's Head, I suppose,” she murmured to herself.

  She dozed for a bit, felt fragmentary parts of dreams about the faithful pet, the creator of all demons, still working away hopelessly. She woke, spent some time planning her escapade, wished Luke was willing to help her, then fell dozed some more.

  When she woke it was 11.50 She stood, stretched, and put her shirt back on. Time to get to work.

  At midnight, she left her room, taking care to open and close the door quietly, then headed out into the night.

  It was almost entirely dark – all the compound's lamps had been switched off. The moon hadn't come out; above her, the stars glittered alone. While she waited for her eyes to adjust, she picked out the constellations she could remember.

  The water reclamation burbled in the background. A faint wind made the compound walls creak. Somewhere, far away, there came the cry of something that sounded like normal animal.

  When she was able to see the faint outlines of the buildings, she set off. She reached the admin office – a silhouette of darkness – and moved up to where she thought the front door would be. Reaching out, she felt the cool wood press against her fingers. Yes, this was it. She reached up to the top of the door, a little shelf formed where the lintel met the wall, and ran her fingers alone the rough wooden surface.

  The cold touch of metal against her fingertips, accompanied by a little clink.

  There!

  She took the key down quietly and, with her other hand, felt for the keyhole. There it was. The lock clicked softly as she slowly slid the key in and turned it. The door opened with a quiet groan. Then she was inside.

  It was impossible to see anything.She stretched forth her hands into the darkness, slowly, worried abut bumping into something. To her side was the edge of the desk. On it, after some more feeling, she found a little LED lamp.

  Covering it with her hand so it wouldn't be bright enough to give her away, she switched it on. The room flicked into existence, lit a dull red by the light escaping through her fingertips.

  With the lamp still covered, she retrieved a ring of keys from a hook on the wall and searched through them, one-handed.

  The first keys she recognised weren't to the incinerator. They were to the surviving truck from the attack. They weren't supposed to be here, were they? They should be stored among the other vehicle keys. Or with the other stuff from the attack perhaps. But with Richard's keys?

  She stared at them for a few seconds, then worked them off the ring and pocketed them. Why? First, because it struck her as vaguely suspicious that Richard should have them. Second, because they'd be useful if she needed to escape at any point.

  Next, she found the keys to the incinerator and its storage rooms. That was the one. She separated it from the rest so she'd be able to find it again.

  Then, turning the lamp off but taking it with her, she headed back outside and walked down to the incinerator.

  The incinerator building was constructed after the fall. It had three rooms: The main room, holding the incinerator itself; the first storage room, where the bodies of the dead were kept; and the equipment, which held black bags and gloves to make handling the bodies cleaner, and an axe in case they had to dispose of a demon that wouldn't fit in the incinerator.

  Jess went into the equipment room first to gather what she needed. Then, accompanied by the crinkling sound of plastic bags, which seemed far too loud in the silence of the compound, went into the main storage room.

  She quietly set everything in the corner, closed the door, and turned the lamp on.

  The room was nearly full. Stacked against the far wall lay the bodies of the demons she'd helped take inside. And on the near side …

  Her hand quivered.

  The bodies of everyone who'd died in the attack. They'd been wrapped up in black bags too – the best that could be done without proper body bags – but on a couple, the bags had torn away.

  Jess saw a face she recognised, a young woman called Melissa. Not a friend, but they'd talked sometimes. Not nearly enough. Half of Melissa's face was caved in by gunfire, leaving a hole of ill-defined meat and dry blood. He remaining eye stared up at the ceiling. Behind her was someone else
with short hair clotted with blood. One of the attackers Mike had killed.

  The room stank of the early stage of rot, overlaid by something sickly-sweet that she suspected was coming from the demons.

  She wrapped a few of the bags around herself so she wouldn't get any blood on her clothes, prepared another, then moved over to the demons.

  One grotesquely inflated hand – half human, half not – stood out from the rest. She lowered the blade of the axe gently to the wrist, then put her foot against the axe's head and pushed as hard as she could. The axe bit into the flesh.

  It took a good five pushes, cutting away slowly but quietly, so she wouldn't alert anyone. But in the end the hand came away with a sort of wet pop. It trailed strings of some reddish slime to the wrist stump. She pushed it inside the prepared bag with the head of the axe, then knotted the top of the bag.

  That was it, then. She took off the bags protecting her clothes, wiped the blood off the axe head with them, then stuffed the dirty ones in amongst the human corpses. The rest she took back to the equipment room with the axe.

  At the admin office she returned the lamps and ring of keys, minus the keys to the truck, then headed back across the compound. The demon hand rustled in her bag. Her prize. It didn't feel like one.

  Halfway back to her room, she heard something. She froze. It was ahead of her, but the darkness swallowed all shapes except the faint outlines of the buildings. She looked around, acutely aware of the demon hand in her bag.

  There it was again. Footsteps. The possibilities flashed through her mind: A lone demon that had slipped through one of the holes in the wall. One of Foxglove's people, escape from the cells and armed. Mike or someone like him, who would see the demon hand and judge her immediately with a bullet to the head.

  “Hello?” came a voice. Curious, not aggressive, familiar. She took a moment to recognise it:

  Richard!

  “It's me,” she said quietly. “Jess.”

  “Good,” said Richard. “If there was someone else skulking around here at this hour, I'd be worried.”

  A dim light flickered into existence a few metres behind her. She turned to see Richard standing there, walking towards her. His far was shrouded in darkness.

  “What are you doing here?” she asked.

  “Couldn't sleep. I thought I'd get the office keys back before morning.”

  Jess took out the office keys and handed it to him.

  “Thanks,” said Richard. He looked down at the bag Jess was holding. “What're you going to do with it?”

  “Keep it in my room. I can't very well give it to Dr Patel at this hour, can I?”

  “I guess not.” Richard tapped his torch. “Want me to walk you there?”

  Jess briefly considered turning him down. Then she realised that, after what had happened, she didn't want to be alone. “Yeah,” she said. “Okay. Come on.”

  Chapter 19

  After Richard had walked Jess to her room, she invited him in. She dropped the demon hand in a corner, and they sat together on the bed in silence for several minutes.

  “I'll have to leave here soon,” said Jess. She looked up at Richard and pulled back her sleeve to show him her wrist. “Another few days and I won't be able to hide it from anyone.”

  “Where are you going to go?” he asked softly.

  “Goat's Head. We'll see if they'll take me when the van gets in tomorrow. If they don't, I don't know …”

  Richard nodded.

  “I know you can't come with us,” said Jess. “But I want you to know how grateful I am for … everything you've done. Even when everything's been such a fucking mess lately.” She sighed and ran her hand through her hair. “And I'm sorry if I've made any of it more difficult.”

  “Not at all,” said Richard. “It's not been easy, doing everything that needs to be done, but honestly, I'm glad you've been around.And I'll be sad you have to leave.” He seemed to consider this. “Though suppose it's best you do get out now. With thy way things are going, I think we might well see Andrew Dale as mayor. Or General. And possible leading us all to war with Foxglove.”

  “Lovely,” murmured Jess. She looked over at him. “Does he have enough support, though?”

  “After the attack .. I think so. It's shifted the tide of public opinion.”

  “Great,” said Jess.

  “If things really do go that way, and I survive, maybe I'll come to Goat's Head too,” said Richard.

  Jess smiled at him. “That would be nice.”

  “If not …” Richard put a hand on her shoulder.

  Jess looked up at him. The second seemed to hang in the air. At last, she leaned in. Fuck it, she thought – she needed some comfort right now, she'd probably never get a chance to see him again. And Luke didn't like her anymore.

  Richard's hand caressed the side of her face.

  Something flashed through her mind: Richard, giving Andrew Dale that friendly smile. She pulled back briefly.

  Then she saw Richard's face as he realised what had happened. It was only there for a fraction of a second, but it stood out: An expression drained of friendliness or understand – just cold anger. And then it was gone, back to something normal, a sort of gentle look.

  But a gentle look, she thought, that might be entirely false.

  She pulled back further and shifted so there was half a foot of space between them. “Maybe now isn't the best time,” she said.

  Richard said nothing.

  “I'm not sure if it's a good idea in general,” added Jess. “I'm sorry. I shouldn't have let it get this far … I've just not been in a good frame of mind lately.”

  Richard nodded slowly. “Alright,” he said, standing up. “If that's what you want.”

  “I meant what I said, about appreciating everything you've done for me,” said Jess.

  “I know,” said Richard. He strode out the door without saying anything more. He didn't slam it behind him; he just left.

  Jess stared at the door for a while. She dismissed almost immediately the idea of going after him. Instead she bolted the door and curled up on her bed. She felt uncertain and lonelier than ever, but at the same time she knew she might have just avoided a big mistake.

  The spider legs pushed through the holes in her side and scratched about beneath her shirt. She took it off and lay on her left side, so they had freedom of movement. Now, she found, she could watch them twist about, extend and retract inside her, without feeling any revulsion at all.

  *

  Outside, Richard walked back across the compound to his room. The spot of light from his torch shuddered on the ground. His hands were shaking. His breathing was ragged.

  He stopped halfway and stood for a moment in the darkness, trying to contain his anger. His temper had screwed up things for him in the past, and he didn't want to lose control now. His jaw tightened.

  It didn't work. Every time he went over it, it came back to the same thing: How could she do that? The little bitch. After everything he'd done, she still had the gall to turn him down –

  No. No, he couldn't let himself get carried away with those thoughts. He had to worry about Andrew Dale and his lot, not some little girl He had to –

  The realisation hit him. How had not seen it before? There was a way he could show Dale he was an ally, get revenge on Jess, AND have some fun along the way.

  After all, he knew her secret.

  And, if it all went wrong, it'd still be fun to watch. He still had his escape route planned. Yes, that would do.

  Smiling to himself, he started walking again. Yes, tomorrow would be interesting. After all, ruining Jess's life would be almost as good as fucking her.

  Chapter 20

  Jess woke with something stroking her face. “Luke,” she murmured, still half asleep. “I'm glad you came back. I had a dream about –”

  She realised Luke wasn't with her and opened her eyes. It was the spider-legs stroking her face: Five or six of them out of the dozens poking out of he
r body. Some of them extended from her belly a metre or more into the air or along the bed. They were all waving gently, like fronds of some marine creature bound to a rock.

  “Good morning,” she whispered to it. “You'd never leave me, would you?” She smiled faintly at her own joke, though it didn't seem funny. “No, I didn't think so. I had another dream about your master.”

  The spider-legs began to retract.