“Hurry!” Langevin urged.
“Can’t see,” Murphy said, yanking a small penlight from his pocket. He flicked it on, grasped it in his teeth, bent closer and squinted at the small bleeding holes. “Got one!” He happily extracted a vial-like dart with a plastic feather, dropped it in his coat pocket and went after another. He grunted in satisfaction again and pocketed his prize as Langevin used his fingers to grab some protruding feathers and yanked out two more vial darts in rapid succession. “Two more left...where are they?”
Langevin scooped up the two errant darts lying on the floor, and pocketed Clay’s pistol as well. “Dear God...what about Sister Maria!” he asked, suddenly remembering the young woman they had left at the mercy of the child thing.
“Forget her!” came the harsh reply. “Either she’s okay or we’re too late; in either case this man is our priority.”
“Is this all?” Langevin said.
“There’s two more deep in his chest,” Murphy answered. “The doc will have to get them.” He reached down to lift Clay. “Damn, they said to shoot him only two or three times at most. The narcotic is both fast acting and dangerous.”
“What have we done!?” Langevin asked regretfully, shaking his head.
“What needed to be done.” Murphy felt for the pulse in Clay’s neck again. ”It’s getting weaker!” The detective’s body was also beginning to trembling violently.
“His breathing is barely there,” Langevin said. “They said the drug was safe but too many hits could send him into anaphylactic shock.”
Without a word, the worried looking Murphy reached into his pocket, extracted a covered syringe containing Narcan, a narcotic antagonist, and removed the plastic cover. He nodded to Langevin who pushed Clay’s sleeve up and encircled his wrist with his hand and squeezed until a vein began to rise in Clay’s hand. “C’mon, c’mon,” Murphy said through clenched teeth. Finally the priest felt confident enough to slowly introduce the needle into the pumped up vein in the detective’s hand. As he’d been taught, he pulled back the plunger until blood entered the syringe’s cylinder, and then quickly depressed it sending the contents into Clay’s bloodstream.
“When we get him to the car, get on the cellular and alert the plane,” Murphy said, slapping the cover back on the needle and pocketing it. “Tell them what happened; make sure Sick Bay is ready.” He paused for a few seconds and then added: “And then pray like hell we’re not too late!”
~ 6 ~
Sister Maria leaped backwards, stepping on the hem of her cloak and almost falling. Barely catching herself, she regained her balance.
The child drew menacingly closer.
Though the tiny figure radiated malignity, Maria’s sense still warned her of a greater evil forthcoming, the inevitable arrival of an iniquitous being of greater power and destruction. What she faced now was merely the appetizer before the arrival of a darker main course fixated on torment and slaughter. Images of the approaching creature tried to enter her mind, but her consciousness refused to accept them, fleeing aimlessly ahead of the specter of the great carrion as a leaf flees before a cold autumn gust.
The child was crying now and making soothing, baby-like sounds as it advanced with arms outstretched as though seeking comfort. Maria retreated but the pitiful wails tugged at her natural kindness and maternal instincts.
For a moment she felt her resolve weakening; suppose this little girl was just a child, a lost homeless soul captured and held prisoner by the creature? Suppose she was trying to escape, looking to Maria for help? Could she turn her down, coldly deny her human compassion and fail to give aid? Had she lost all empathy in a world seemingly gone mad, a world no longer bound within the parameters of any accepted reality? After all, there was nothing really supernatural about the child...except that her eyes were strange.
...AND SHE WAS ABLE TO STAND THREE FEET IN THE AIR ON NOTHING!
Maria looked at the child again, and all doubt left her. An ink-black cloud of malevolence smothered the young nun. She gasped for breath and shivered miserably in the cool, night air as she fought her natural feelings of concern and pity for the child. Deep in her soul she knew her survival depended on keeping a cool head and using the power of her faith to ward off this evil.
Slowly, she now felt a great fatigue coming over her; she was so sleepy. As her arm grew tired and her hand began to droop, the child seemed to gather strength from her weariness and began to advance. Maria remembered the Crucifix and thrust it high once again.
The child stopped dead less than thirty feet away and smiled craftily at Maria, sighing with the exhausted patience of an angry parent when a stubborn youngster refuses to give up its will.
Suddenly the little girl reached a finger up to her face, there was an audible pop, and her left eyeball leaped out of its socket and plopped grotesquely down onto her cheek. Attached nerves and muscles kept it dangling there as a tiny river of blood and yellow mucus flowed from the empty gaping socket above the eyeball and ran off her chin. The child smiled, a horrible yellow-toothed mocking grin.
Maria’s stomach turned over again; nausea threatened to send her retching into the gutter. Heart pounding, she felt her head growing tight as pinwheels of light danced before her eyes. Dear God, she thought, don’t let me pass out! She closed her eyes and began to pray aloud. “Hail Mary, full of grace, the Lord is with thee, blessed art thou amongst women....”
The tightness in her head began to subside and she held the silver cross tighter and higher, willing it to banish the evil, praying for the power of God to help send this thing back from wherever it came. Her voice grew louder as she neared the end of her prayer.
“...now and at the hour of our death...Amen!”
Maria opened her eyes.
The waif was still standing there, her head cocked to the side as though puzzled over the fuss. Her eye was back in its socket; Maria wondered if it had ever truly been plucked out, or if it had been part of some macabre mind game. Was any of this real, she wondered numbly? But there was little time for introspection. The child grinned and reached a hand up under her gown. She probed her lower belly, struggling with something between her legs. A live entity suddenly bucked and thrashed, pushing out her gown, twisting into it and then retreating back, only to plunge forward a moment later like a berserk garden hose, bending, curving and shaking itself to get loose of the folds of the dress.
A geyser erupted from beneath the shift, soaking through the material in a huge yellow stain that dripped and puddled onto the street as something under her dress angrily hissed and spit.
For a brief moment Maria thought the child was giving birth, then, with horror, saw her small hands reach down and grip a black, beaded head poking from under the hem of her garment.
The child yanked at the head, and long, writhing black coils spilled from between her legs.
Dripping phlegm-like venom, the snake’s head whipped frantically about, forked tongue repeatedly licking out to sniff and test the air. Suddenly it paused its aimless search, its small, black eyes fixed on Maria.
Maria cried: “No...! In the name of God – stop!”
Grinning insanely, the child dropped the head and continued pulling the slippery snake from under her dress, foot-after-foot, hand-over-hand she worked until finally its tail emerged and it dropped onto the sidewalk.
Like a flash, the serpent slithered its ten-foot length across the wet pavement towards the transfixed nun.
READY OR NOT....!
The child grinned widely as, before Maria could move, the serpent was at her feet, rearing upward, pushing and probing against her clothing, trying to get under her cloak, to climb her legs.
In her mind, Maria knew with horrified certainty that it was trying to enter her; a vision forced itself into her mind – the snake worming its way up her leg, into her body and thrusting itself upwards until it burst through her internal organs and snapped its fangs directly into her heart...!
A LOVELY DEATH IS ON ITS
WAY....!
Maria screamed!
Terror overwhelmed her. She dropped her Crucifix and leaped backwards! Panic washed away any vestige of control as she found herself coughing, gulping and filling her lungs with of air, vainly trying to satisfy an oxygen need that refused to be satisfied. The street whirled madly. She heard a hiss of exultation from the child as she staggered back. Barely able to stand, Maria retreated backwards around the front of the Saab.
The snake shot off the sidewalk and under the car heading straight for her feet again.
Maria looked desperately about, spotted the front door of the automobile, tore it open and leaped into the driver’s seat. She slammed the door closed.
Safe!
A wave of relief was quickly followed by hollow thuds as the angry snake leaped against the driver’s side of the automobile. Its flat head slammed repeatedly against the window; fangs released splashes of thick, yellow gore which pooled and ran down the surface of the glass.
With a small cry, Maria drew back, pushing herself as deep as possible into the upholstery. As she did so, however, she glimpsed the child in the rear view mirror. She was running for the back door of the Saab.
Maria hit the automatic lock button. The four door locks snapped shut just as the child seized a handle. Locked outside, she rattled it frantically up and down.
Maria screamed; she had to get out of there!
The keys...
...were in the ignition and she fumbled frantically to get the automobile started. The ignition caught. She pulled it into drive and jammed her foot down on the accelerator. The tires spun madly evaporating wetness on the street. With smoke rising, the automobile screamed away.
Maria was half-way down the street when she realized she had left Father Murphy and Father Langevin at the mercy of the child-thing. Slamming on the brakes, she twisted the wheel, trying to make a U-turn in the middle of the street. The automobile spun half-way round, sliding sideways down the pavement, then bumped over the curb, mounted the sidewalk and finally dropped back onto the street facing in the direction she had just come.
She accelerated back down the street, switching on the headlights as the automobile picked up speed. The beams picked up the waif in the middle of the road looking small and helpless.
Maria continued to accelerate towards her. She hit the horn. “Get out of the way!”
The child dropped to her knees in the roadway, head tilted upward, hands clasped in mock prayer.
“Jesus, Mary and Joseph...move...get out of the way!” Maria screamed at the child, knowing she couldn’t be heard.
The child remained kneeling, seemingly lost in a trance-like devotion.
“Get out of the way!!”
Though knowing in her heart that the figure was merely something monstrous in the guise of a little girl, Maria couldn’t bring herself to run her down.
At the last moment, she pushed down hard on the brakes and twisted the wheel to the left in an attempt to avoid her. The car skidded wildly on the wet pavement, back end slewing to the left and right.
As the careening automobile slid towards her, the waif suddenly picked something off the roadway and stood up.
Holding up the wriggling serpent like a prize, she grinned directly at Maria through the windshield just as the car slammed into her at a 45 degree angle. There was a metallic clunk and the child vanished under the automobile. It jumped slightly as one back tire rode over her small body. The slide continued for another 150 feet before coming to a stop in front of Montague’s building just as the doors burst open and the two priests staggered out. Murphy had the unconscious detective slung over his shoulder in a fireman’s hold.
“Sister!” Murphy yelled, spotting Maria in the automobile. “Over here.”
“I hit her!” Maria cried, throwing open the door and jumping out.
“Get back in and drive!” Murphy shouted. The child was already rising from the street.
Maria looked back. She gaped at the miraculous recovery. The child, unscathed, stood immobile on the pavement. The young nun needed no further urging. She yanked open the rear door of the Saab on the driver’s side. Murphy came round and slung Montague inside across the back seat as Langevin lost no time in getting in the front passenger seat.
“Never mind, I’ll drive,” Murphy said, throwing his pistol onto the back seat after Clay’s inert form. He motioned Maria inside.
Obediently she climbed in back with the detective, glad that the priest was now taking command. She looked out the back window.
The child was now walking straight towards the car. She held the snake in one hand. Slowly she began to whirl it by its tail.
“Please go now, Father,” Maria called. “She’s – it’s not human.”
Murphy stood at the open driver’s door of the Saab and stared at the little girl whipping the snake round and round in a heated frenzy. Faster and faster the snake whirled, forming a shimmering, black, hypnotic spinning wheel, drawing the eyes of all towards its center where her small, pale hand pumped frantically.
The reptile was just a blur now, its passage through the air creating a whine growing louder with each passing second. The child continued walking towards the automobile, eyes blazing with a mixture of hate and anticipated triumph.
Father Murphy stared in morbid fascination, hypnotized by the sight of the whirling reptile and the child’s glowing, alien-looking eyes.
“Father! Get us out of here,” Maria yelled again, from the back seat. Somehow she knew that if this thing reached them, they would all die a quick and horrible death.
The priest failed to move; he was frozen.
Sensing the danger, Langevin reached over through the open driver’s door and grabbed the back of Murphy’s coat. “Dermott! Get in!”
Jolted by Langevin’s shout, Murphy felt sweat running down his face. Paralyzed he fought the child’s seductive eyes and an icy power that gripped his mind as he struggled inwardly to regain possession of his will. His resolve swung wildly between revulsion and love for the girl advancing towards him.
He tried to resist but found himself sliding back into her snare. He was captivated by the warmth of her eyes. They were so tender, so forgiving, and so full of promise. They offered him the pleasures of nights immersed in the warm folds of female flesh, the power of riches beyond his imagination, the heady raptures of fame and adoration...and a multitude of other delights never experienced before on earth.
IT WILL ALL BE YOURS, FATHER.
“She’s a devil! Murphy, you stupid ass, get in the car!” Langevin screamed, again.
Murphy heard the distant insult yelled at him and was surprised that Father Langevin would dare speak to him in that tone. But he also didn’t care a great deal. After all, he felt so fatigued, so numbed by life and all its trials that he wanted nothing more than to surrender his will to comfortable and secular pleasures.
COME WITH ME, HOLY MAN. SUCK THE FORBIDDEN FRUIT...!
Maria was out the back door of the car in an instant and facing the priest. Stepping between him and the child, she brought her hand up high in a wide, open-handed swing and the vicious crack of the slap echoed up and down the street like a pistol shot.
Father Murphy’s head snapped back, his face stinging. Summoning the last bit of strength he possessed, and calling on the decades of regimented prayer, discipline and sacrifice that fed his inner spirit, he tore his eyes away from the child and stared in confusion at Maria standing before him. Her eyes were both terrified and angry at the same time.
“Suck it up, Father!” she shouted, simultaneously amazed and appalled at her use of such an expression. “Get in the damn car!”
He looked beyond her.
Less than 40 feet away the little hellion was approaching rapidly. She tried to entrap his mind again. Loathsome tentacles of evil clawed at his psyche. Quickly Murphy looked away. He realized how close they were to destruction and took his own silver Crucifix from a pocket. “Chew on this you little heathen,” h
e yelled, and flung it full force at the child. It whipped end-over-end straight over her head. Like a cat unable to stop itself from responding, the child slammed the snake into the ground, leaped up instinctively, stretched, and amazingly snatched the Crucifix from the air with a single hand.
A long, bowel-wrenching scream ripped through the night as her hands closed on the blessed object. For several seconds she stayed aloft. There was an electric snap and a brilliant arc of light. Pain shot through her body with the swiftness of a lightning bolt and she gave a spasmodic jerk and shrilled once more. As though blown out of the air by a shotgun blast, she abruptly plunged to the ground howling in agony.
Hitting the pavement, she rolled, twisted and turned. She continued to grip the Crucifix like a live electric wire, unable to let it go, unable to free herself from the agony and the seizures shaking her small being.
Alternately snarling and shrieking, she clutched it to her belly, bent double until she had rolled herself into a ball and brought up her bare feet to try and pry it free from her hands. Her toes dug and flailed at it like an angry feline, toenails splintering and ripping as she gouged her hands and arms in an insane rage to be free of the cursed object.
Feeling a strange and unholy satisfaction at someone else’s pain, Murphy pushed Maria into the back seat and slammed the car door.
The Saab squealed away.
~ 7 ~
Smoke and the stench of burning flesh rose from the small figure wailing and rolling on the wet pavement as a huge, ant-like creature suddenly swept down like a giant locust onto the street. Adramelech, now part-creature, part-man, landed gracefully on powerful legs near the child.
Lifting a huge, triangular, horned head, hooded yellow eyes took in the scene. Nothing stirred except the child. She quivered and moaned weakly at his feet. The creature reached down and grabbed the child in one hand. Carefully avoiding touching the metal cross, he picked her up and shook her like a dead rat.
The Crucifix dropped from her grasp and clattered to the pavement. The creature gave it a vicious kick, sending it hurtling across the roadway with a metallic rattle to slam into the curb and spin towards an overflow drain. It hung for a moment in the grate, twisted with the current of rainwater washing from the road, and dropped from sight into the bowels of the sewer.
The Plan Page 22