On Demon Wings (Experiment in Terror #5)

by Karina Halle

  Revolted, I spit with all my might and a black ball shot out and onto the middle seat.

  Ada and I peered down at it, disgusted but curious.

  The black ball unfurled itself and I could see it wasn’t black at all. Just black and yellow. And moving.

  A wasp.

  “What’s going on?” Dex asked frantically, trying to drive straight and see behind him at the same time.

  “Ewwwww,” Ada said. The wasp buzzed its wings in an attempt to fly but Ada was faster and she smashed it into the seat with one of her shoes she’d taken off.

  There was a hush of relief among us. Then the sick feeling intensified, like an entire nest of wasps was crawling out of the recesses of my stomach and scurrying up my esophagus, blocking me from precious air. I was drowning in them.

  I tensed and writhed in my constraints while Ada and Dex watched me with horrified eyes. My mouth flew open and I heaved up a mass of wriggling wasps that landed on my lap in a sickening heap.

  Ada screamed. I heaved and heaved, unable to get them all out of me.

  And Dex was deathly allergic to wasps. It was he who panicked first. I couldn’t blame him. He yelled and flailed and tried to drive but it was too much.

  In slow motion, like a scene from a movie, the car careened off the highway.

  We bounced down an embankment, the sound of tires grinding asphalt, then gravel, then grass, and we coasted along flatness for a few seconds; time that slowed us down.

  A tree appeared in the headlights, followed by a magnificent crunch.

  There were screams.

  Bodies flying forward.

  Wasps.

  Blood.

  Then it was over.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  When I came to, I was as far away from a car accident as one could be. I gained consciousness while I was walking through a dark forest grove, punctuated by the blue-green glow of fireflies that darted in and out amongst the trees. It was just like my dream only it was real now. Or as close to real as anything could be.

  I stopped by a tall, earthy-smelling pine and peered at myself, the moonlight peeking through the spaced-out branches. The duct tape still clung to my arms and legs in places but had been torn down the middle, ripped apart. There was blood spattered across my pajama top and I didn’t know who it belonged to, or how it got there.

  Ada! I thought as everything shifted into shape. Dex!

  The cloud in my head began to lift. Where was I? Where were they?

  “Ada!” I yelled into the night. My voice was immediately swallowed up by the layers of bark and rock around me. “Can anyone hear me? Dex?!”

  I paused, holding my breath, listening. The fireflies made little buzzing noises and the branches scraped against each other in the breeze. I heard nothing else except my own heartbeat and was met with my deepest fear yet.

  What if something happened to them? What if they had died from the car crash? What if I had killed them?

  I scanned the forest but saw nothing but dark shadows and mountainous boulders that reflected the light of the moon. It was deathly cold and I was still barefoot and only in my sleeping attire. I didn’t care. I didn’t feel anything but panic.

  I started walking first, pushing the rough branches past me, trying to find a path in the maze of trunks. Then, as my thoughts swarmed, I ran, not minding the scattered stones and twigs that dug into the soft undersides of my feet, not noticing the pine needles whipping my eyes.

  The wasps! My God, the wasps. If Dex had survived the crash, survived me, there’s no way he’d survive that.

  I ran and ran in an endless loop, pushing my body to the limit. I was weak from lack of food and water and my muscles ached with each stride, soft from being stretched and immobile for so long.

  I ran and then...

  Suddenly I was standing before a clearing where rough grass grew silver white in the moonlight. The moon that was on the wrong side of me. A moon that was a smidge lower in the sky.

  I had gotten turned around. At some point, while I was running, the thing had taken over and directed me in the opposite direction. Now I was conscious and able but more lost than ever. It was hard to know where I was when I never knew where I started.

  That was frightening. I never even felt it come in.

  Somewhere in the forest, a baby cried.

  I swallowed hard and tried to soothe my heart as it pulsed madly in my veins.

  The baby cried again.

  “No,” I said out loud. There is no baby. That was a dream. This is real. You’re remembering your dreams. You’re remembering your dreams, you’re remembering your dreams.

  Somewhere in the forest, a few branches cracked.

  I imagined tiny, flightless demons falling out of a nest and running toward me, thinking I was their mother.

  I threw my head back at the sky and screamed.

  I screamed and screamed, letting it all out, letting my cries carry through the clearing and above the trees, high into the mountains, whose shadows rose ominously in the distance. If anyone heard me, it would be all for the better. The madness was too much for one person to bear.

  “Perry?”

  It was Dex’s voice. It cut my screams off at the source and I whipped around.

  He was standing a few yards behind me. His shirt was torn and wet in places and he stood at such an angle that it was almost impossible to be upright. Half his face was covered with blood that pooled out of a dark wound at his widow’s peak. His eyes regarded me like I was a stranger, someone he wasn’t sure if he could trust. Maybe I looked like a ghost myself.

  “Hi,” I said softly. I tried not to smile. My arms and legs started tingling from finally feeling the cold. “You’re alive.”

  He nodded, wincing. “Are you OK? Are you hurt?”

  “I’m OK, considering I’m also very not OK.”

  He nodded, then gasped for breath and started to lean a bit to the side.

  I scampered over and got him under his arm just before he keeled over.

  “I’m fine,” he said, grinding his jaw. Once a liar, always a liar.

  “No, you’re not; your head...” I tried to touch the wound but he yanked his head out of the way. That brought another grimace to his face and he fought through the pain, a pain that tensed all of his muscles into hard lines.

  “It’s fine, I’m fine.”

  “Where’s Ada?” I asked, suddenly alarmed.

  “She’s fine. She’s at the car.”

  He let out a deep breath and attempted to take a step. I went with him.

  “What happened? Were you stung?”

  He nodded, carefully this time. “More than once. But I had two Epi-Pens in the glove box. Your sister found some pretty creative places to stab me.”

  “We’ve got to take you to a hospital,” I insisted as I helped him navigate over a fallen log.

  “I’m fine.”

  “Dex, you’re not,” I said, and stopped, pressing my hand back into his chest.

  He looked down at me and smiled painfully. “Kiddo, we’re not going anywhere except straight to Roman’s.”

  “But your head, and the stings, your allergy will-”

  “Will be taken care of when I get a chance to take care of it. My wounds aren’t vital. Yours are.”

  “But the car. We’ve got to call for help. Get a tow truck or Triple A or something.”

  “The car is fine. She’s a trooper. She’ll take us where we need to go. She may not look pretty anymore, but none of us do. I even started her engine before I set out to find you, thinking you might hear it. She purrs like a cat. A retarded cat, but a cat.”

  I still didn’t like it. He grew silent as we hobbled together through the forest.

  I had to ask, “Where did I go?”

  “Huh?”

  “Just now. After the accident.”

  “I don’t know.” His voice became yielding, pliable. “I came to with my head indented on the steering wheel. The wasps were gone. Ada was
shaking me awake. She had her seatbelt on, thank fuck, so she was fine. Maybe some whiplash. And you were gone. I don’t even know how you got out of your seatbelt. You’ve not only turned into the Hulk, but Houdini as well. ”

  I was so ashamed and so furious with myself for leaving the accident. And causing the accident, when it came right down to it. They were my wasps, weren’t they?

  “You should have left me here,” I growled.

  He stopped. I could see a single beam of light in the distance, probably the car. It made the sticky blood on his face shine like a frozen pond.

  “Perry,” he said. His voice came out thick and raspy. “You have to accept that this isn’t your fault. You didn’t ask for this.”

  “How do you know?” I cried out. He was sparking some nerves just beneath my shell. “How do you know what I asked for?! Do you know what it’s been like to be me for the past few months? Do you have any idea what I’ve gone through!? Do you?!”

  The non-bloodied skin on his face went an extra shade of white to match the moon. His eyebrows lowered, eyes dropped briefly to the ground. Then he brought them to meet mine and they softened like liquid honey.

  “I don’t think I’ll ever be able to tell you how sorry I am. It doesn’t mean I won’t try, because you, Perry, you deserve a lifetime of servitude. Eons of groveling. Even then, I don’t think I can show enough, do enough to let you see. And that’s OK. You have every right to hate me for this lifetime and many others. You have every right to never see me again. To spit on my grave. But tonight, now, I’m not going to give up on you. I’m going to fix you or,” his voice fell with weight, “die trying.”

  I didn’t know what to say to that. I opened my mouth and closed it again, letting the gravity of his words sink in. I couldn’t forgive him. I couldn’t let him die on account of me, either. He needed to go to the hospital. I needed to go to a hospital. But we both carried on in our stubborn little ways, protesting together but apart.

  Dex let out a puff of breath and pointed at the light in the distance.

  “Just one headlight left. Let’s hope we make it till dawn before seeing any cops. I don’t think they’d believe our story for a second. Especially since your jolly old father probably has a wanted poster of me down at the station already.”

  A minute later we arrived at the car. Ada looked fine except for a bruise on her elbow. She wrapped her arms around me in a lavish, squeezing hug, thinking she might never see me again. I foolishly told her it would be the last time we’d be apart.

  Then she started wrapping me up in duct tape. Even in the middle of a car accident, I was still public enemy number one.

  We got in the car and after I was carefully belted in, Dex managed to reverse it up the embankment. Luckily, it wasn’t as steep as it looked when we went bounding down it. The Highlander shuddered and smoked a bit but she worked and we were soon roaring down the highway again. The night sky was clear as we left the mountains and entered the softly rolling hills, and far off in the distance you could see the sky easing black to blue. The horizon looked fresh and clean and the dying stars twinkled brightest before they faded. Dawn was coming.

  Time was ticking.

  It was near eight in the morning, when the landscape was sunny, dusty and squint-worthy bright, that I felt a cloak of blackness settle over me like opaque net. It had been waiting to drop all night. I had been waiting to receive it. A net of indescribable evil.

  A voice spoke out deep inside my head. That voice from the bowels of creation, one that encapsulated all pain and suffering the world has ever known - and relished it.

  Give up, it said. To resist is to bring pain. Pain to your loved ones. Pain to yourself. Give up and you’ll be spared. You’ll be free.

  Try me, I thought.

  I raised my chin and looked at Dex and Ada, who were lost in their own thoughts, watching the flat farmlands roll past.

  “Guys,” I said, my voice shaking out of my chest. “I don’t have much time left.”

  Dex stepped harder on the gas. I didn’t know if it would be enough.

  ~~~

  When we arrived outside the small, reservation town of Lapwai, I was a complete write-off. There was no hope left for me. I pushed and tried and projected and did what I could to get control back but I was too tired and too weak to be any threat. I spent the entire car ride trapped in my body and under the demon’s rule. I spoke in tongues, I writhed and screamed and tried to bite Ada and Dex until she was stealth enough to put a piece of duct tape over my mouth. She then proceeded to tape me down to the actual seat, using all three rolls of the tape they’d purchased from the gas station.

  It was good timing that as soon as Dex navigated the Highlander up to a desolate rancher on the sage-brushed outskirts, the tape began to come loose from the seat and my thrashing was at an all-time high. Any longer and the thing would have propelled me into Dex and taken the car off the road again, for the final time. You only get to cheat the devil once.

  Dex slammed the car into park and he and Ada jumped out of the car while I remained writhing inside. The rusty door to the small house banged open and a tall, slim native man in jeans and an old, grey San Francisco Giants sweatshirt stepped out. He was surprisingly young, you know, for an exorcist, maybe a few years older than Dex. Dex shook the man’s hand vigorously and then, as the man shook Ada’s, someone else emerged from the trailer.

  It was Bird. Stoic Bird from Red Fox, with his dusty denim jacket, weather-beaten face and imitation Raybans. Aside from a quick slap on the back, and Bird motioning to Dex’s head wound with concern, there was no time for a reunion. Dex pointed at the car and they all came running for me.

  I tried with all my heart to get the creature away from me, to be able to act as myself to Bird and to tell him how much I appreciated him for trying to help me once again, but I couldn’t. If anything, my attempts made it push me back even farther. A layer of film settled over my vision, like I was looking through a thick piece of laminate, and all sound came at me as through underwater channels.

  Dex opened the door and the exorcist and Bird peered down at me, sussing me out. I puffed in and out the piece of duct tape instead, tried to wriggle myself free and uttered supernatural groans.

  The man, who I assumed was Roman, shook his head defiantly and started muttering in his native tongue. Then he began yelling at Bird in that language, pointing at me and frowning. Bird laid his hands on Roman and answered him back calmly, still in another language.

  Finally, Dex asked, “Excuse me but what’s the problem?”

  Bird looked at me and then at Dex with a tight-lipped smile. “Roman’s upset because I didn’t tell him how bad she really was.”

  “I didn’t know,” Dex said to him, then he turned to Roman. “I didn’t know until last night. You speak English, right?”

  “Yes, I speak English,” Roman snapped. He gestured at me without much concern. “She’s too far gone; this is unfixable.”

  If I had a heart that still belonged to me, it would have been shattered wide open.

  I was unfixable.

  I was going to die.

  Dex grabbed Roman by the front of his sweatshirt and brought him right up to his face.

  “You’re going to fix her,” he snarled, his dark eyes sparking as they bore holes into Roman’s. “She’s a lot stronger than she looks. She is still in there and you’re going to help her, or so help me God.”

  “You’ll need your God if you think you’re going to win this battle,” Roman said. He exchanged a measured look with Bird and then gave a short nod. “OK. Let’s see what we can do. Just, please release me.”

  Dex stared at him intensely for a few seconds, the dried blood down the side of his face making him look borderline homicidal, before he backed off and unclenched his hands from the sweatshirt. He took a quick look at me and then walked away, shaking his shoulders, trying to cool off.

  I was foaming at the mouth, the spillage leaking out underneath the duct tape. R
oman brought his face in deeper to mine and started muttering in his language again. Even though he was Nez Perce, it sounded like Navajo to my faraway ears and would explain why he and Bird could talk to each other.

  Bird nodded and replied back. Then as Roman started to undo the duct tape, Bird’s warm face filled my line of sight as he leaned close to me.

  “Perry,” he said gently. “I can see past these eyes. I know you’re in there. I know you can hear me. I know you must be scared right now but we’ll need you to listen to us. You must do what we say. This is going to be very complicated. But it’s not impossible. You must have faith. You must call on your faith. Faith in God, if you still believe. Faith in the universe if you don’t. Faith in love. Faith in yourself and faith in others. Faith will give you courage and grant you hope. Use that.”

  Roman said something else as he ripped off the duct tape from my legs.

  “What was that?” Bird asked.

  This time Roman whispered it. Bird looked back at my face and eyed it distrustfully.

  “I see,” Bird said softly. His jaw set.

  Neither Dex nor Ada had caught the exchange. They were standing outside the trailer, Dex with his arms crossed and tapping his foot nervously, Ada babbling distressingly. They were too far away to hear. But I knew something was going on, something that only Bird and Roman knew. I wished I could have asked but all I did was continue to make shuddering groans.

  When Roman was done freeing me from the seat, I thought the thing would have made me attack him and flail wildly like an injured worm. But I was motionless. Not in control, but quiet. Maybe waiting for them to let their guards down. Maybe the thing inside me knew what Roman was capable was. I sure as hell didn’t.

  Roman took my legs and Bird wrapped his hands around my shoulders and together they lifted me out of the car and walked sideways to the house. It was sunny but surprisingly cold, with a bitter breeze that rolled off the far-off hills. Dex kept the rusted door open as they took me inside.

  From my limited view, the house was clean and threadbare. What little furniture there was was neat but still gave the impression of either poverty or neglect. There was a screen door that had holes punched through it in places and looked out onto the rolling, brown land outside.