On Tenterhooks

by Greever Williams

  “Of course I trust you Abby. It’s fine, really. I am fine with you staying at Amber’s. It’s not like you’re trotting the globe or something.”

  Abby felt the guilt rising in her gut and a painful lump burning in her throat. “Mom, I need to hang up now.” Her vision blurred as tears welled in her eyes.

  “Okay, Honey, please be safe.”

  “I will. I promise. I love you. Goodnight,” she whispered, tossing the phone down on the bed. She squeezed her eyes shut and felt the warm tears trail down her temples and onto her ears. Then she heard the latch of the bathroom door as Veronica opened it.

  When Abby opened her eyes, she saw Veronica standing near the foot of the bed. She was wearing a plush white hotel bathrobe that had the hotel’s black and gold “HC” crest embroidered on it. Water fell from her short spiky hair onto the robe.

  “Wow,” said Abby, rubbing her eyes, “that looks like a comfy robe.”

  Veronica looked down at her robe. “Yes, it’s lovely,” she replied. “There’s another one in there for you.”

  “Thanks.”

  “You okay?” Veronica asked.

  “Yeah, fine. It’s just tough trying to talk to my mom with, y’know, all of this happening.”

  “I can imagine.” Veronica sat down on the edge of Abby’s bed and dried her hair with a bath towel. “Do you want to talk about it?”

  “Naw. Not much to talk about. She’s just worried about me, as usual. Especially since Zack died, she’s always nervous. . .about everything. She tries hard to be strong, for my sake I guess, so I’ve kinda learned to tiptoe around it, trying to make sure she doesn’t have a breakdown or something. But that was tough.” She gestured to the cellphone on the bed beside her. “I didn’t want to tell her where I was, who I was with or why I wasn’t home.”

  “Could I give you some unsolicited advice?” Veronica asked.

  “Sure.”

  “Your mom will always be your mom, Sweetie, no matter where you go or how old you are. She’s always going to worry about you and want what’s best for you. You probably won’t always agree on what that is, of course, but all she’ll want is for you to be truly happy. That’s all she’ll ever want.”

  She reached out and clasped Abby’s leg near the end of the bed. “Cherish that love, Abby. It’s something I neglected. I didn’t appreciate it until it was too late, and now I can’t get it back. I don’t want that to happen to you, too.”

  Abby could see that Veronica’s eyes were brimming with tears. She sat up, and without a word, she scooted down the bed, wrapped her arms around Veronica and held on tightly. Veronica was shocked, but then surprised at how good it felt. It had been a long time since she’d had a hug like this. She hugged Abby back.

  “Thank you,” Abby whispered.

  “Don’t mention it.”

  Abby leaned back onto the pillows, swiping at her eyes with her knuckles. Veronica patted her eyes with her towel and handed it to her young friend.

  “Thanks,” Abby said. “Boy, we’re a mess aren’t we?”

  Veronica laughed. “By the way, how old is your mom?”

  “She just turned 47 last month.”

  “Oh my god! I’m 45. I could be your mom!”

  “Um, no, don’t think so. Somehow I don’t see my mom carrying a gun around in the pocket of her bathrobe!”

  Chapter 38

  By mid-afternoon of the next day, they were growing restless. They had ordered breakfast in, and the room had begun to shrink more with each passing hour. Despite their fear of Preacher, they each heard and saw the tourists and stores on the ground beneath their window. Steve was ready to break out of what had become a prison for them. He and Abby took turns watching the tourists in the streets below, looking for a glimpse of Biker. There was no sign of Preacher.

  Martin spent most of his time lying on the bed, watching TV and trying to instill some small sense of normalcy into their unpredictable situation.

  “Why do they have to talk so darn fast?” he complained.

  “It’s not fast to them,” Veronica responded. “What do you want to know? I’ll translate.”

  “Naw, that’s okay. I’ll just watch and learn.”

  Steve and Abby were struggling to get the room’s single window to open wider. They both wanted to feel the fresh air.

  “Too bad these rooms don’t come with a balcony,” he said, grunting as he pushed up on the window.

  There was a loud knock at the door. Martin muted the television and sprang up from the bed. Veronica stood back from the door with the gun pointed as Steve opened it from the side. Biker stood in the doorway smiling down the barrel of Veronica’s gun.

  “¡Buenas tardes!” he said smiling. “Fajitas, my treat. Let’s go.”

  He turned and walked away, whistling to himself. Veronica looked at Steve, who shrugged.

  “Fajitas sounds good to me!” said Martin. He turned off the TV and followed the others out the door.

  Two hours later, they sat on the terrace of a fajita grill. They had just finished a massive platter of sizzling beef and shrimp fajitas and rice, beef nachos and a dessert of cold flan. They’d shared a large pitcher of sangria and, for a few moments, all of them were able to relax and enjoy the scene and the company.

  The sun lay low and large across the horizon. The cruise-ship tourists had returned from their shore excursions and were sailing to their next destination. The crowds were thin, with just the locals and vacationers who had flown in. The air had chilled a bit but Biker had insisted that they sit outside. Each of them scanned the area, always watching for Preacher hiding behind a nearby bush or building corner.

  “Guys, he’s gone, for now,” Biker assured them.

  “How do you know for sure?” Veronica asked.

  “Well, have you ever seen how the different poles of a magnet repel each other?”

  “Sure,” said Abby, “it’s basic physics. We covered that a couple of years ago in science class.”

  “Right, well, we’re like that. We can’t both be in the same space at the same time for very long. I can’t get near him, and he can’t get near me, except for maybe a few seconds at a time.”

  “What happens if you do?” asked Martin.

  “It would be very, very messy, for us and anyone anywhere close to us. If we were to go toe-to-toe, I’d probably be able to whup up on him and send him straight back to hell. But if that happens, his boss’d be pissed. And, believe me, there are things much, much worse than death. So Preacher wouldn’t risk it. I don’t want to take that chance either—a wounded herder ain’t gonna do much good keeping the wolves away from the flock. Besides, I have my orders.”

  “So, what are we supposed to do then?” asked Veronica. “Hang out with you for the rest of our lives?”

  “No, that won’t work,” said Biker. “Actually, you are gonna have to confront him. And, if possible, you are gonna get rid of him yourselves.”

  And there it was.

  Abby had been right. Steve looked over at her. She was attentive, but didn’t look scared anymore. Sad, maybe, but not like she had been yesterday when they’d first discussed the possibility.

  “Seriously?” asked Veronica. “You just told us that you’d be worried about your chances going toe-to-toe with him, and you think we’re gonna be able to do any better?”

  “No, I didn’t say ‘better.’ I just said you’d have to face him.”

  “Why?” asked Veronica. “If it’s your job to protect us, why can’t you just do that?”

  “Because it’s just not working anymore. Everything I told you yesterday—he's outflanking us left, right and center. The tide is getting too high, and humanity seems to be working against us. We try to be more and more creative, but it still feels like we’re running to keep from falling further behind.

  “If this doesn’t change soon, we’re predicting that the positives will all begin to stray and fizzle out, which is about the worst thing that can happen. We’ve looked at and
analyzed it from every angle.”

  “So we’re like guinea pigs in some cosmic experiment?” Steve asked.

  “No. Guinea pigs have no choice. You do. My purpose here is to lay all the cards out on the table—tell you the good, the bad and the ugly bad. You’d be the first, a vanguard of sorts, to participate in a new self-defense plan. But it’s your option. No bullshit, no guilt trips. Just me with the facts, and you with a decision to make. We’ve never made contact with the positives like this in the past, so if we can prep you for it and tell you what to expect, perhaps you can find a weakness or at least a different approach, something we haven’t tried before.”

  “Sounds like a last-ditch gamble to me,” said Veronica.

  “That’s a matter of perspective, I suppose. I consider it to be more like a calculated risk, a change in strategy that is desperately needed.”

  “So what is it that we’d have to do?” asked Martin.

  “Yeah, what do you suggest?” asked Steve. “Just walk up and shoot him?”

  “No. First off, a gun isn’t gonna destroy him. Nothing on this earth that I know of is capable of doing that.”

  “Then why did you have one?” asked Veronica.

  “Because it’ll probably slow him down for ya. You have to send him back,” said Biker. “It’ll ensure that he loses his momentum and his strength. It’ll take him years to get back here.”

  “If we do that,” asked Abby, “will he leave us alone? Will we stop having the nightmares?”

  “I don’t know that for sure, but I think so, yes. It will throw him off your trail for a good bit.”

  “Can he be killed?” asked Veronica.

  “No. At least, I don’t think so. He is not from here, so guns, knives, bombs and all that stuff don’t scare him. He is blending in now because he wants to. They play dirty. They sneak around in the shadows and strike at ya with sucker punches. That’s how they operate. The trick is, you gotta convince him to come after you, all at once.”

  “But you won’t be there?” asked Abby.

  “No, I can’t,” said Biker. “Like I said, we’re mutually repellant. As long as I’m here, he won’t show up. I am gonna do my best here to set you up, but when it goes down, you will be in the driver’s seat.”

  “So, how are we going to convince him to come after us like that?” Martin asked.

  “Well, you’re gonna isolate yourselves in a remote spot and just sit there. To him, you’ll look like chum in the water—easy targets.”

  “I don’t get it,” said Steve. “You just told us that the whole reason we’ve had to go through this is because he can’t get to us directly.”

  “That’s true, to a degree. Like I said, early on, we saw that you were destined for something Good. So, in a sense, God put shields up around you and sent people like me to look after you. Well, the plan is to have those shields lowered, so that he’ll come for ya.”

  “You already lowered them, didn’t you?” asked Abby. “That’s how he . . . got to me.”

  Biker closed his eyes for a moment. There was a look of shame on his face. “I did, darlin’.”

  He took Abby’s tiny hand in his. “Please forgive me for that. I was trying to draw him in our direction, but I underestimated how close he was behind you. By the time I figured it out, he was already onto you.”

  Abby gave him a tired smile.

  “It’s okay. I just wish I had known what to expect. I might have been better able to fight him. . .”

  “Yes, I know. It was a mistake that I won’t let happen again. I won’t drop the shields again until you are good to go.”

  “So, after all this time you’re going to drop these shields,” said Martin. “And then all of the sudden we show up as easy prey?”

  “Yup, in a manner of speaking.”

  “But won’t he be suspicious?” asked Martin. “It seems like such an obvious trap.”

  “Well, it doesn’t work like that with them, Martin. To him, it’s just blood in the water. It doesn’t matter ‘why’ something happens to change the situation—only that it did change. He will see that he has an advantage. And I’ll bet my badass hand-stitched boots that he’s gonna take it.”

  Biker slapped the side of his boot. “See, he’s like a machine. Satan put him on this earth for one purpose —to keep you from reaching your Goodness. Satan programmed him to do whatever is necessary to accomplish that goal. But don’t get me wrong—he’s not like some dumb animal driven by instinct. He’s conscious, very aware and very adaptable, with a single-track mind focused on the job he’s been put here to do. And believe me, that is one employer you do not want to get a bad performance review from.”

  Stabbing the air with a pointing finger, he emphasized: “Not to mention that this isn’t really a trap. What this does is force him out in the open. But, like I said, you can’t shoot him, you can’t burn him, you can’t even poison the sonuvabitch, so you’re gonna have to be very creative and think on your feet. Oh yeah, and he might not be alone.”

  “What does that mean?” asked Veronica.

  “It means” said Biker, sighing, “he might bring some back-up. Some minions or something to help ensure things go his way. But don’t worry—they won’t be near as tough as he is.”

  “Biker,” said Veronica, “you suck at pep talks.”

  “Guilty. Look, this ain’t no G-rated movie. I ain’t promising you cashmere and creamsicles here. You are stuck in the middle of something that very few people on earth have ever had to grapple with. It won’t be pretty, and it ain’t gonna be easy. But the way I see it, you ain’t got much of an option, neither. No normal means are gonna protect you forever. I ain’t always gonna be around—I got a whole flock to look after. You can’t call the cops on him. He’ll just disappear and pop up later and strike out at you from the dark. If you want to live your lives and ensure that nothing happens to the rest of your loved ones, you gotta do this dust-up, and you gotta do it now.”

  Steve had been silent until now, but a question had been burning ever since they had accepted Biker at his word. “Biker, every time we ran into him, Preacher told me to ‘let it go.’ What did that mean?”

  Biker grunted with a slow nod, “My guess is he was trying to get you to let go of your faith, your optimism. That’s what he wants. If you do that, it’s victory lap time for him. He can head back downstairs for a breather, knowing that your positive spark is snuffed out.”

  Then he asked all of them, “When you saw him, did you feel sick or lightheaded, anything like that?”

  “Hell, yes,” said Martin. “I got a massive pain in my stomach.”

  “And I have a panic attack every time,” said Veronica.

  “I only saw him once,” said Abby. “But right before he grabbed me, my eyes started burning.”

  “Yeah. Those are typical effects. These demons have an ability to bend people to their will. Not mind control, more like the ability to plant suggestions, influence you and stuff.”

  “Why didn’t it bother me like the others?” asked Steve.

  “You didn’t have any pain or anything like that?” asked Biker.

  “No. I mean, I was scared, but not queasy or anything.”

  Biker smiled, “That’s good, man—flat cold good.”

  Before Steve could follow up, Veronica interrupted. “Does that mean he was scared of Steve?”

  Biker chuckled again, “No, sorry. Look, he doesn’t get scared. He doesn’t stray too far from the plan at all. He’s only got enough creativity in that shell of his to enable him to evolve to the situation at hand. You guys show up like bright spots on his radar. So, when he sees a chance to cast that influence, he takes it.”

  “Can he do that? Control us like that?” Steve asked.

  “No. Not while I am around and got your shields up. He can physically get close to you, muck with your guts maybe, and he can talk at you, but that’s about it.”

  Veronica looked at Abby with a concerned frown on her face. “But t
he shields weren’t up when he got to Abby.”

  “No, they weren’t. But Abby’s got shields of her own. He was trying to get in there and stir it up, but she fought him. He didn’t succeed.”

  The whole group gave Abby an appraising look. She blushed under the scrutiny, and then smiled shyly. Her smile brought an unconscious sigh out of Steve. He felt at least one knot inside him loosen, if only slightly.

  “So, if he made me sick as a dog, and the others too,” asked Martin. “why not Steve?”

  “Steve’s got his own defenses also,” replied Biker, staring at Steve. “Hone them, man. Take care of them, and they’ll serve you well.”