The Dark Ones

by Anthony Izzo

  They had heard a rustle in the rear building, a one-story brick structure with a pile of old mattresses sitting near the door. One of the windows had been smashed out and a breeze blew, whistling through the opening.

  The suddenness of it startled Frank. A thing with leathery skin and huge, papery wings swooped in from above. Sylvia fried that one. Three more demons broke from the building, smashing down the door and charging forward, the pile of mattresses falling over. Frank took out two, Charles one. Engel had followed, emerging from the doorway dressed in a trench coat and filthy khaki pants. He had taken them from a victim, no doubt.

  They had chased him down the alley, through the side streets that bordered the brewery, eventually winding up back at the complex. It was Sylvia who had rounded the corner first. Engel had gotten ahead, had been waiting. With a slashing arc, he brought forth an axlike weapon and struck her in the chest. Her blood stained the dirt. She fell to the ground.

  It was Charles who had killed Engel while Frank tended to Sylvia. Taking the stone from Frank, harnessing its power, he fried Engel in his tracks. Frank stayed and began the process of burying Engel. Charles had rushed Sylvia to the hospital. She bled out in the car. Her last words had been, “There’s leftover mac and cheese, Charles, if you’re hungry.”

  He had dealt with the cops, who had grilled him. They didn’t particularly buy his story (she had been attacked by a mugger), but they didn’t charge him with anything, either.

  The following morning, he and Frank had returned to the brewery. Frank had buried Engel near the wall of the brewery, the Everlight keeping him in place. With one in Engel’s grave, that left the remaining stone safe in Routersville. The demons they killed had been dragged by Frank (Charles still didn’t know how he managed that) and shoved behind some type of industrial press.

  He had left the brewery that day with Sylvia’s funeral arrangements on his mind. And how he was going to tell Laura.

  Now he didn’t know how long they would let him live, or what was happening in the city.

  He heard footsteps. Someone squatted down in front of him. Engel’s pale, angular face appeared.

  “The city is dying,” Engel said.

  “That’s what you wanted, isn’t it?”

  “Do you hurt?”

  “No.”

  “Liar. Why don’t you pray? Maybe your God will save you, yes?”

  “And who is it you pray to?”

  “My Master is greater than your false God. He’s promised me a place in the new kingdom. Can you say that of your God?”

  The pain started to flare up in his wounds again. “It will do me good to see you die again.”

  “See, your prayers are useless.”

  “You won’t win. There are others coming to stop you.”

  “I’ll enjoy breaking your bones,” Engel said, and slipped back into the darkness.

  Sara watched the man who she believed was her father doze off. Either that, or he had passed out from pain.

  Her life had been a lie, or a series of secrets. She was part of some secret order hundreds of years old. Her world had been rocked, shaken, and turned upside down. She feared for Robbie. Would the things in the city be victorious, and would they spread out from here?

  Laura was pacing at the side of the gurney. More wounded staggered in, some bleeding, some with burns and bruises, still others afflicted with the same rot that was now overtaking David’s arm.

  Sara reached out, smoothed David’s hair. Thought of the time he had taken her to Cedar Point. They had ridden every coaster in the park, the two of them screaming and laughing. Then eating pizza and candy apples and David/Dad winning her a giant stuffed Garfield by knocking over milk cans. That had been good. That had been her and Dad. You wished the sun would never set on a day like that. Now he was dying. And he wasn’t who she thought. But should that matter? Her real father had gotten a quickie from Laura and never been seen again. But David had lied. For good reason though, right?

  Laura continued to pace.

  “How are you?” Sara asked.

  “Fine.”

  “No, you’re not.”

  “Okay, not, then. You’re really observant, huh?”

  “Look, don’t snap at me.”

  “I didn’t snap,” Laura said.

  “Did, too.”

  Laura didn’t answer. She stopped pacing and was watching David with a look that made Sara want to hide the sharp objects.

  “He’s a good man,” Sara said.

  “He took you from me. Any idea what that feels like?”

  “What about me, Laura? I’ve been lied to for sixteen years. This whole thing is fucked up.”

  “Watch your mouth.”

  Sara rolled her eyes. “Okay, messed up. I’m not exactly loving him right now, either.”

  “I’m calling the cops.”

  “Think they’re a little busy right now, don’t you?”

  “He belongs in jail.”

  “He’s suffering enough. He tried to save me, Laura. Doesn’t that count for something?”

  Laura’s eyes welled up. She covered her mouth. “I’m trying to help him, it’s my job, but—” A sob escaped her. “I’ve had dreams. Two or three a week. You’re there in my dream, and it’s so real, and I wake up and you’re gone. Oh, God you’re right. It’ll be bad for him.” She backed against the wall opposite David’s gurney and slumped to the floor, knees up to her chest.

  Sara sat next to her, put her arm around Laura, who rested her head on her newfound daughter’s shoulder and quietly sobbed.

  Jenny and the others descended into the turret’s upper room, which housed a pool table, leather sofa, and an old Defender video game. Jenny guessed it was some sort of officers’ lounge at one time. Once inside, Jenny locked the hatch, then exited the room, locking that door, as well. She hoped the door would hold the winged creatures—if only temporarily.

  She could hear the beating of metal and shouting. Rifle fire popped. A shotgun boomed and she heard high-pitched squealing.

  Jenny, Myron, and the others wound their way through the armory’s many corridors and stairways, winding up at the balcony that overlooked the main drill hall. Jenny pressed herself against the polished wood banister and looked at the battle.

  She caught a whiff of cordite. That, and the stink of them burning. Through the film of smoke in the air she saw the main doors. A man-size hole had been cleaved in the steel. Pale arms, some of them clutching black spears and swords, jutted through the door. A host of Guardians opposed them at the doors, firing beams and driving at least some of them back.

  It appeared to be too many, however.

  The doors strained inward, the sheer mass of the demons making them buckle.

  “We’ll stay here, fire down on them when they break through.”

  “You mean if they break through?” Myron asked, scratching his beard.

  “No, I meant when. Be ready.”

  Myron and the others positioned themselves along the railing.

  The doors pressed inward with a hollow boom. She guessed the bulk of the Dark Ones were backing up, gaining momentum, then charging the doors with the hope of battering them open.

  Jenny heard footsteps and looked to see someone approaching along the balcony. It was a woman. Jenny didn’t recognize her. Blood streamed from her head. She staggered up to Jenny, who steadied the woman. Her face was ashen, her forehead slicked with sweat.

  “The rest are dead,” she said. “They’ve taken the roof.”

  The end was close, then.

  Jenny helped the woman, helping her sit against the wall and taking off her jacket, instructing her to hold it against the cut on her head. Then she returned to the railing

  The doors gave with a huge crash, and the wave of demons poured into the main hall. The line of Guardians attempting to hold the main door opened up, firing beams, cutting down the initial line of attackers and creating a small pile of bodies. The Guardians retreated, backing up and continui
ng to fire. Those at the windows, now behind the breaching demons, blasted away with rifles and shotguns. The bullets seemed to have little effect.

  The Dark Ones surged ahead. Jenny took aim and fired at a tall lurching demon with yellow eyes. She caught it in the chest and blew it off its feet.

  That was one down, anyway.

  Now they came forward, the ones with spears driving their weapons into the front line of Guardians. She saw one man impaled, and as his back arched and his arms flailed, more Dark Ones surrounded him and hacked off his hands.

  Jenny kept firing, as did Myron and the Guardians who had been in the turret with her. She hit three more, but it was merely a few grains of sand removed from a beach.

  There were just too many.

  Anna remained quiet and looked straight ahead. She was avoiding the sight of bodies at the curb. Perhaps they were friends or relatives. She kept a fierce grip on Frank’s hand and a few times he had to give her a gentle tug to keep her moving.

  They moved down the main drag, passing bars, a barbershop, and Ruby’s diner, its red neon sign dimmed. It seemed appropriate, for its owner was gone and would not be returning.

  He heard shuffling noises in the road behind him. More of the Dark Ones arrived on Main Street. They were apparently done ravaging the neighborhoods. Many of them held grisly trophies: severed heads, arms, one item that he tried to convince himself was a doll but was most likely a dead baby. He picked up his pace, walking steadily, hoping they didn’t see him. Anna moved along with him. She turned and saw them and opened her mouth, a piercing firebell of a shriek leaving her.

  Frank turned. The scream had caught their attention. Frank kneeled, placed his hands on Anna’s shoulders. “No more of those, okay?”

  Staring blankly, she nodded.

  Now the throng of them charged up the street. Frank and the girl broke into a run. He wanted to get close enough to the armory, then pull out the light and drive them off for good.

  Jenny saw it coming, and it looked mad as hell.

  The creature, jet black with glowing red orbs for eyes, tucked its wings back and stepped through the opening to the balcony. It was perhaps fifty feet away. Myron saw it, too, and exclaimed, “Jumpin’ Jesus, we’re getting it from both sides!”

  Jenny decided to take the winged beast. Coming at her, it spread its wings, which were lined with tendons and grayish veins. It held a double-bladed ax.

  She was quite sure she was going to die. Hopefully it would be quick, perhaps one quick stroke of the ax. That was all you could hope for at this point, wasn’t it?

  She raised her hand and a rope of white Light flew from her fingers. The demon raised the ax and with the blade deflected her beam. It ricocheted with a sizzle-hiss and bounced off the brick wall and faded. She fired twice more and both times the winged creature turned the blasts aside. Now it advanced, confident. She noticed two more coming up behind it.

  She let it get closer. It raised the ax over its head, holding it two handed. Still it came closer. She tensed, crouched. If she timed this wrong she would be split in two.

  The demon broke into a run, its wings beating against its back. As it closed in she flung herself to the side and flattened against the wall. The ax fell and embedded itself in the balcony’s hardwood floor. It was now stuck and the creature struggled to free its weapon. Jenny moved in close, and with Light glowing from her fingertips, she thrust her hand into its flank and ripped across its gut. Its steaming gray innards tumbled out. It fell to its knees, trying to gather its guts. She finished it off with a blast to the head and it tottered sideways and died.

  That left the other two, who were almost upon them. She yelled to Myron, who was preoccupied with the battle below. He turned, eyes wide. The demon was upon him. It picked him up, claws digging into his chest, and threw him over the balcony. His arms and legs flailed and Jenny was partially grateful for the din below, for she didn’t hear Myron smack against the floor.

  One of the other Guardians turned but was too late. The second demon ran her through with a spear and yanked it out. She fell to the ground, blood seeping into her sheepskin jacket. Jenny spied the woman who had told them the roof had fallen, the one with the gash on her head. She had curled up like a turtle and pressed herself against the wall. So far it had worked. She had remained invisible to the Dark Ones.

  Jenny backed against the wall. There was nowhere to run. It was just her and the bricks. They approached her side by side, one of them holding a spear.

  She raised her arm. The one on the right crouched. Jenny fired. Her shot glanced off the tip of its wing. The one on the left chugged ahead and before she could turn and fire, it plastered its full weight against her, driving Jenny almost through the wall. Her back smacked the bricks. For a moment the thick stench of the creature was overwhelming. It kept her pinned to the wall. She struggled, kicking and screaming.

  A clawed hand closed around her waist and she got the sense it was strong enough to snap her spine. She saw a dagger with a jagged blade in its hand. There was nowhere to go.

  “I’ve made a fool of myself,” Laura said, wiping tears from her face with her sleeve.

  “Nah,” Sara said.

  “I don’t like him. I need to help him, but I want to hurt him for what he did at the same time. Does that make sense?”

  “I can see why you’re mad.”

  David’s head lolled back and forth, making a rustling noise on the pillow. A short moan escaped his lips. A light sweat had broken out across is forehead, making it shine. He opened his eyes, watching the two women.

  “Do you want to hear the rest?” David asked.

  Laura supposed she did. The two of them went to the gurney’s side. Before David began, Laura flagged down a passing nurse, an African American woman in purple scrubs. The woman hugged a clipboard against her chest.

  “Get some vitals on him. He’s going to be staying.”

  “I’ll get to him as soon as I can,” she said, and hurried off.

  If they got to David, Laura thought. She didn’t like this man but the thought of him dying alone in a hospital corridor bothered her. He didn’t deserve that.

  “What are Guardians?” Sara asked.

  “They’re the answer to the Dark Ones. Are they sent from heaven? I don’t know. It started with Sanborn and his wife. They had fourteen children. The line of Guardians continued to the present day, passing down their knowledge of Engel and the Dark Ones, always on guard for them.”

  “How do I fit?”

  Laura interrupted. “She’s one of these Guardians. My parents were. Why don’t I have this ability?”

  “It sometimes skips a generation. Not sure why. My parents didn’t have it, either,” David said.

  “My mother was one, too, then,” Laura said. How the hell did they keep that from her?

  “Right.”

  “Why did you take Sara from me?”

  “I didn’t. But Engel was close. She wasn’t safe. Your father suspected Sara might be like Sanborn—incredibly gifted, powerful. It wasn’t until after Engel’s death, when Sara was about two, that we knew. She showed powers at a very young age. Usually they don’t manifest until the teen years.”

  “That we knew?” Laura asked.

  “I didn’t take Sara,” David said.”

  “The boogeyman got her then, right?”

  “I don’t believe in the boogeyman,” David said.

  “Why did you do it?”

  “She was brought to me, Laura,” he said, and weakly cleared his throat.

  What he had done to her was bad enough. Now he was being coy. “By who, FedEx?”

  “By your father. He arranged the abduction. That letter you found under my mattress, Sara? It was from Charles. He typed it, didn’t sign it. Told me to take good care of you and never let the truth out.”

  Laura had a moment where everything went silent. She didn’t hear the moans of the injured, nor the shuffle of footsteps on the tiled hospital floor. It was like
being in a vacuum. She looked at David’s face, seeing every pore, a small mole on the cheek, his brown whiskers growing in. He looked back at her with something like pity. That news was like a train. You’re standing on the tracks, unaware. And here it comes, the Amtrak special, and it hits you and sends you flying. All she could manage was a soft, “That son of a bitch.”

  “He did it to protect her.”

  “This Engel would have killed me?” Sara asked.

  “Yes. We also think you’re our only chance against him. Because of your abilities, you can use the Everlight as a weapon.”

  “The Ever-what?”

  “The stone that gives the Guardians their powers. It can drive off the Dark Ones in the hands of regular Guardians. But there’s people like you, who show the power as toddlers, who can use it to cut down the enemy. Engel included.”

  Laura felt a little dizzy, detached, as if she were watching herself and David and Sara have a conversation. Not unlike the sensation that followed a dose of cold medicine.

  “The Everlight kept Engel in the grave. It was disturbed when the brewery was torn down.”

  That comment snapped Laura out of things. “That’s why he was so adamant about that damned brewery. And why he told me to leave town.”

  “There’s one other stone left, in Routersville, Pennsylvania, a Guardian stronghold. Reverend Frank Heatly is looking for it. Probably battling the Dark Ones right now.”

  “Then we need to leave,” Sara said. “He’s going to be looking for me, isn’t he?”

  “Yes, but you can’t leave. You have to find the Everlight.”

  “And what if I do?”

  “Use it to kill Engel.”

  That was crazy. “You want her to what?”

  “The stone was hauled away when the brewery was demolished. The debris was taken to Brown Recycling near Elk Street. Your dad found that out. It’s one of the last times we heard from him.”