by G A Chase
Bart practically threw the motorcycle into the next curve. “This thing is crazy fun,” he yelled.
She lifted her head from between his shoulder blades and put her mouth to his ear. “We’re here to fight demons, not get your rocks off. Pay attention. That next curve is where I lost it, and there’s no way of knowing if the booby trap could claim this bike as well.”
He slammed on the brakes and twisted the bike perpendicular to the road. They skidded to a stop just before the bend. From over the side of the road, the smell of burnt oil, rubber, and wood wafted through the air.
The moment the bike came to rest, Sere hopped off the back, ran to the edge of the road, and yanked out her shotgun. “Come and get me, you doppelfuckers!” She cocked the gun and let a round fly over the trees. If Lefty was within range, he would heed her call.
A return shotgun blast sounded from across the river. “The demon is coming at you from your left,” Joe yelled. “Be careful. He’s wearing your helmet.”
Shit. With the readouts, the demon would have a clear view of her. She cocked the shotgun and stared through the telescopic sight at the river’s edge, but nothing moved.
Bart snuck up beside her. “I’m going to head down the road a hundred yards to see if I can spot him,” he whispered.
“Don’t go any farther than that, and listen for my whistle. And whatever you do, don’t die.”
“I’ll do my best.” He kissed her on the cheek so casually she wondered if it had been an automatic response or something more.
She hurried off the road and climbed the first large oak tree that overhung the river. The demon might have any one of a number of weapons. The bikers who frequented Bart’s establishment seldom carried their arsenals into the bar, but that didn’t mean they didn’t have guns and knives stashed in the saddlebags of their Harleys. Anything left on the bikes would have been inventoried for use by the lead demon. The doppelgänger Bart had sliced up was no dummy.
She lay out flat on a moss-covered limb and aimed her shotgun at the river’s edge. Though she still couldn’t make out so much as a single blade of grass moving, she knew Joe would be working his way along the shoreline, searching for his prey. Come on, Joe. We’ve got work to do.
But as one minute stretched to two and then ten, Sere worried they were being outfoxed by the demon. She rolled to her side and looked down along the river. Bart had to be fairly close by. If he were far off, she’d have felt his absence. She whistled a nightingale song.
A light breeze preceded his arrival at the base of her tree as if he’d been nothing more than a leaf blown to her. “This is taking too long,” he whispered up to her.
“I agree. What should we do?”
Bart searched the river. “We need to get across.”
“Why?” With Joe on the other side, having the demon trapped between them made sense. Joining forces would only leave their enemy room to maneuver. A cold chill ran down her back.
“I’m concerned about Joe. He had to face six demons alone, and now he’s being awfully quiet over there. I’d expected a signal of some type to indicate he was okay. Have you picked up anything from him?”
Sere sprang down from the tree and rushed toward the river without worrying about being seen or heard by the demon. Bart was right. Joe should have whistled. During practice stakeouts, he always comforted her with his range of wildlife interpretations.
She dove into the water without a thought to her clothing or the dangers that lurked around her. A splash behind her let her know Bart wasn’t wasting time being secretive either. When I get out of this river, either Joe will be standing on the water’s edge, angry at me for giving away our location, or there will be no sign of him, and Bart’s concerns will be confirmed.
She dug in hard against the current, pumping her arms and legs with everything she had. When her fingers hit sand, she popped up to her feet and ran toward the tree line. The hope of finding Joe there to greet her seemed like the delusion of a little girl whose father had gone to war but who nonetheless expected to see him when she got home from school.
“Joe!” she yelled into the forest.
Bart rushed up beside her and motioned for her to be still. “Stay quiet for a moment and listen.”
She did her best, but the adrenaline rushing through her body made it hard to be calm enough to detect much of anything.
Bart prowled forward like a bloodhound that had just picked up a scent. She kept close behind him as he pushed aside the tree branches and worked into the shadowy forest.
“Down here.” Joe’s voice sounded like it came from under Sere’s feet.
She dropped to her knees and started pulling the leaf canopy off of him. The entire improvised tent was soaking wet. “You couldn’t have found any dry vegetation?”
“It was dry when I pulled it over me.” His voice was much too weak.
She touched her hand to her nose and smelled the metallic odor of blood. Bart put his hand on her shoulder and pulled her back. “Let me have a look.”
She caught the relief on Joe’s face that Bart was the one doing the investigating. Bart carefully lifted a branch covered in moss then set it back over Joe’s body. “What can I do?”
Joe took his hand out of the muck and put it on Bart’s. “Give her your assessment, then let me have a minute alone with her.”
Bart put the man’s hand over the camouflage covering then motioned to Sere to join him away from Joe. “He’s dying. There’s a bullet wound in his gut and another in his chest. From the amount of blood soaking the vegetation around him, I’d guess he’s down to his last few minutes. That man is a bull. I don’t know anyone who could have survived this long with those wounds. He’s only hanging on to say goodbye.”
Tears filled Sere’s eyes, making it impossible to see. She fell to her knees and crawled back to her mentor, father figure, and friend. “What happened?”
He pointed at his cracked motorcycle helmet beside the tree. “The demon had the drop on me. With the other helmet, the monster was able to see what I was up to and read my vitals from the shared connection. While I hunted down the other six doppelgängers, this one set the trap. It was a good fight. I decapitated four demons and injured the other two enough to ensure that the alligators had two good meals. I watched all six demons meet their end. When I heard the motorcycle fire up, I got too excited. It’s been a long time since I was on the hunt, and my relief that you were okay got the better of me. I worked my way to the river without anticipating a trap. If it hadn’t been for you pulling your warrior-goddess routine on the road, my adversary would have decapitated me the way I’d done the others.”
Sere wanted to fight, argue, demand that he hang on—anything but sit quietly and watch him die. But Joe would be the first to tell her that comrades in arms accepted their fates—and worse, the fates of those closest to them. She put her hand on his chest. Blood covered it, making it feel like the marshy ground. “Anything I think to say sounds trite.”
He put his hand over hers. “I’m proud of you and always have been. It has been an honor and a privilege to help train the world’s savior.”
“No final snarky rejoinder?” She sniffled back her tears.
“Not this time, Serephine. Love is understood more than spoken. Neither of us needs the words. There’s a black leather satchel under the floorboards in the bedroom of my cabin.” His words were lost to a fit of coughing that forced him to turn on his side. When he stopped, she knew he was gone.
37
Chapter 9
Sere let Bart lead her back to the road. The loas of the dead would be hovering around at any minute to escort Joseph Cazenave to the nirvana he so richly deserved. At least, that was Sere’s take, and if the loas had the audacity to think otherwise, they’d have her to deal with. Though a demon had done the deed, the monster hadn’t hung around for Joe’s passing. His soul didn’t belong to them. The logical argument gave her some comfort, but until she got eyes inside hell to know what was r
eally going on, she’d never be sure. If the worst case was that Joe was in hell, at least the other innocent souls the demons had captured would have a warrior on their side.
She sat on the pavement, looking out at the swamp. The heavy feeling of having just lost her most trusted ally and the rock that had sustained her since the moment she’d been tossed in hell made it impossible to move.
Bart rounded up Joe’s helmet, knives, and rifle. The growing pile of belongings sat next to Sere like a fellow mourner. It reminded her of Larry’s mechanic tools. The things were worse than useless without the people who knew how to use them—a mockery of what they had been. Just like her.
Bart sat next to her opposite Joe’s belongings and stared out over the swamp. “So how do we get that pellet out of you?”
It was a fair question. The pellet was holding them back. Riding the motorcycles to their next disaster would be a problem if she couldn’t be more than a hundred feet away from Bart.
“Knowing Joe, there will be a med kit somewhere on his motorcycle.”
Bart turned to her. His worried look didn’t inspire confidence in his ability to do what needed to be done. “I thought you said if the demon scientist hooked you up, the pellet would be pulled through your body.”
“It will.” There wasn’t much point in hiding the truth. “The demon intended on slashing me then wrapping the bandage around the wound. That meant while I was hooked to Jennifer, the pellet would be racing around inside me like a ricocheting bullet and not take the most direct path out of my body. I have no idea what would happen with me being damaged while trying to heal. We need to use the bandage more like an electromagnet to pull the pellet out in one direction.”
He got up and opened the Blackbird’s front cowlings. Joe liked to travel light. With all of his weapons already on the highway, only the small black bag was left nestled in the bottom of the tight compartment.
“Got it.” Bart opened the bag. “Looks like he had a lot of faith in your skills. There’s only one small bandage in here with the cord and cell phone.” He handed her the rolled-up wire-laced cloth. “How do you want to do this?”
She unzipped her leather riding pants and pressed the roll to her abdomen. The feeling of wanting to vomit from one specific point in her gut was like having swallowed an angry yellow jacket. “Unspool the cord and take the cell phone to the bend in the road. You’ll need to stay with it until I tell you to end the connection. No matter how much pain I’m in, you have to stay with the phone. Understand?”
He handed her the end of the cable. “I’ve seen you in pain. You’re like a wildcat hissing and scratching at everyone dumb enough to offer help. Once was enough. Don’t worry. I’ll keep my distance.”
She favored him with a smile. She knew his show of wounded pride was just a cover for not wanting to see her suffer. “Damn straight. Since this isn’t a normal object, I’m not sure what the effects will be. If I lose consciousness once it’s out, unroll the bandage, wrap it around my torso, and use the Velcro strip at the end to hold it together. Then go back to the phone and hit the app again. I’m going to need Jennifer’s strength to repair the damage. With the bandage around me, the professor’s equipment will shut down once I’m whole again.”
Bart unwound the cord and walked a safe distance away. In an overly dramatic way, he held the phone in one hand and aimed a finger with the other. “Ready?”
“Don’t make me laugh, asshole.”
“I’ll take that as a yes.” He punched the screen.
The searing pain of the yellow-jacket stone coming to life and chewing its way out of her gut had her screaming. Though only an inch of flesh separated the shotgun pellet from the bandage, the dissolving body matter wasn’t a pain any human would understand. She pressed the bandage harder into her flexed abdomen, willing the pellet to move faster. The red haze of her demon side struck so hard she wondered if the blood from her wound had squirted over her eyes. Her scream of pain became a dark howl of rage.
Once the pellet from hell broke the surface of her skin, her arm, the bandage, and the blood-soaked paranormal stone fell to her side. She barely got the word “done” out before everything faded to black.
Jennifer pulled out of her husband’s arms and twisted around on the couch. “I’ll be right back.”
From the deep breath he took when she moved and his half-closed eyes, she could tell that Henry had been more asleep than awake. “Do you want me to pause the movie?”
She kissed him on the cheek before getting up. “Don’t bother. I’ll only be a minute.”
Sere felt as groggy as a little kid who’d just been picked up to be taken to bed. She watched through Jennifer’s eyes as the woman looked around the kitchen. “I’ve got wine or coffee,” Jennifer said. “I know you’d prefer whiskey, but that would involve coming up with a cover story for Henry as the wet bar is next to the television. It’s only fair to warn you, I’m not much good at hiding things from him.”
“Coffee,” Sere said. “And maybe a cookie if you have any left.”
From behind the woman’s face, Sere found it remarkable how many muscles were used to create the wife and mother’s knowing smile. “So that’s the temptation you can’t resist. I’ll remember that. It’ll be our little secret.” Jennifer took an oversized cookie and the bowl-shaped cup filled with steaming coffee out to the back porch. “So I imagine there’s some life-or-death battle are you are currently in the middle of dealing with. I hope you’re not lying mortally wounded beside some river.” She took a bite of the cookie as casually as if they were discussing changing channels.
“Joe was stabbed to death by one of the demons.”
The bite of cookie lodged halfway down Jennifer’s throat. She set the remainder on her dress. Tears filled her eyes. I’m sorry. The emotion was so pervasive that words would never have conveyed it.
“You didn’t even know him.” Sere didn’t mean to be crass, but her connection to her mentor wasn’t something the homemaker would understand.
“Don’t be cruel,” Jennifer said. “He saved my life. When you prompted our fight with him, I learned a lot about myself—both the good part of my caring and the bad part of holding on too tightly. I’d guess that was just a taste of what your life has been like with him as your teacher.”
“He was more than that.” Sere could cover her emotions with snarkiness or bravado while in her body, but as pure spirit, she had no place to hide what she truly felt. “Most of who I am, I owe to Joe. He was the only one who treated me like I wasn’t some fragile porcelain doll while I was growing up. Even when I was a little girl, he treated me as an equal.”
Jennifer blew on the hot coffee and took a sip to finally help the cookie down. “I envy you.”
Though she knew Jennifer wished she were stronger, more adventurous, and braver, Sere felt those weren’t the attributes the homemaker was referring to. “For the love of God, why?”
“You hang onto the people you love.”
Sere had never experienced the hidden truth that Jennifer reached with her simple comment. “I’ve seen you with Bobby and Henry,” she countered.
“That’s not the same.” Jennifer stared at the night sky as if searching for an answer to Sere’s confusion. “My father is still alive, but I hardly ever talk to him. It’s not that we don’t get along. We just grew apart. Most of the people I’ve known have drifted out of my life. You don’t just fight evil—you fight to keep those you care about. That’s what I envy.”
“Fat lot of good it does me when they die anyway. Joe would still be alive if he hadn’t tried to rescue me. All the people I’m close to have risked their necks for me—even you. And Joe isn’t the first to lose his life in the quest to save me.” The memory of how Larry and Kelly had been so kind to Sere—a stranger who staggered into the diner covered in oil—and had been the first to lose their lives to a demon was something that would haunt her forever.
Jennifer ate more of the cookie as if offering Sere comf
ort in the form of chocolate chips. “Now you’re sounding like me.”
Jennifer was right. Sere needed to snap out of it. Joe would have been the first to smack her for her self-pity.
“I suppose I’m still figuring out how to rely on others. Protecting those closest to me is easier than letting them put it all on the line for me.”
“Life isn’t supposed to be bland,” Jennifer said. “The adventures that truly bond people together are never easy.”
Sere had to say something to keep the homemaker from following her lead. “I do what I have to do. I didn’t choose this life. You make it sound like a camping trip or something. I’m trying to prevent hell from taking over this world.”
“Exactly. Who wouldn’t want to join you in that quest? Mourn Joe. He was a good man, and you lost someone important. But don’t for a minute think he would have wanted any less than what you gave him: a true and noble life quest.”
Her debate with Jennifer confirmed that the connection was returning Sere to full strength. “Maybe you’re right. Lord knows Joe would have made the same argument. Sometimes it seemed like he’d spent his life preparing for my problems.”
Jennifer got up and brushed the cookie crumbs from her dress. “You’re starting to fade, and I need to get back to Henry. He never sleeps well if I’m not next to him, even if we are just watching some cheesy movie. I hope you’re feeling better, my sweet badass demon-hunting heroine.”
38
Chapter 10
Sere came back to her body hunched over and holding her stomach. “That was a bad one.”