Sally shot him a look. “You know where the pot is. Get your own,” she replied.
Pete's head dropped glumly and he stepped over the tea-making station. Sally looked at the nun inquisitively.
“Did you get everything sorted?” she asked.
“I did. They weren't the most accommodating at first, but I think I talked them around.”
“Oh, I wouldn't worry about them, dear,” Sally said. “They're all hot air, really. Just need a clip round the ear and putting in their place from time to time. I'm glad everything's sorted out, though. It's about time Father Rhodes had a break.”
“Yes. It seems that they weren't aware of the letters that head office had sent. Do you think they were lost in the mail?” Sarah asked.
Sally grimaced. “I'd put money on them sitting somewhere in all that mess they’ve got piling up in there. Bloody useless when it comes to paperwork, those two are. I've found unpaid bills in there before. Drives me bloody mad, it does.” Sarah smiled and Sally adjusted her tone. “Oh I'm sorry, love. You don't need to hear my complaining. You've got enough on your plate as it is.”
Chris stepped out of the office and went across to the window. He looked down at the suited gentlemen standing outside and sighed. He noticed Father Rhodes’ beat-up old suitcase. He looked up to Sally, who caught his glance. “Did you know?” he said.
“Of course I did, you silly pillocks. Monty told me a while ago he was planning to take a break.” She nodded at the case. “He packed the case himself, and told me to keep hold of it until the day they sent someone to relieve him.”
Sally paused for a moment before continuing.
“You know I love that grumpy old drunk, but it's time for him to go get some peace. Not to mention dry out. Like you said, he can't do this anymore. Or at least, he can't do it right now. He knew that way before any of us did. I guess he just didn't have the heart to tell you both.”
“I guess,” Chris said. “I just didn't expect him to leave so soon.”
“Yeah,” Pete added. “We didn't even have time to get him a going away present.”
“Oh boys,” she said. “Stop being a couple of wusses and go help those nice gentlemen out there with our favourite pisshead.”
Pete picked up the case, shocked by its weight.
“Christ, this thing weighs a ton!” he exclaimed.
“There’s no booze in there,” Sally assured them. It’s all books and clothes. I already checked.”
Chris and Pete both exhaled with relief, before Chris looked out to the parking lot.
“Okay then,” he said. “Let's do this.”
***
They walked across to the big, black car waiting outside. Upon seeing them approach, the suited men watched. Sister Sarah approached them.
“Everything is in order,” she said, and the men responded with a nod and began preparing the car. Pete handed over the case to one of the suits, and he accepted it, placing it in the boot with ease.
Chris went over to the Idol Hands van and opened the back doors. As the group looked inside, Sister Sarah gasped.
Father Rhodes lay face-down, his wheelchair completely overturned. The belts that they had used to strap him in were tangled in the wheels of the chair, and his arms were struggling to reach the straps keeping him trapped.
“BASTARDS!” he yelled out in a gruff voice.
The brothers jumped into the van and immediately untangled the priest and pulled him to an upright position.
“How did you get yourself in this mess?” Chris asked.
“Well, when it became obvious you were just going to leave me in here to starve to death I decided I had to get myself out of here. Hence the mess with these stupid buggering straps of yours. Where the bloody hell have you been?”
“Don't start on us, you miserable old shit! We thought you were asleep!” Pete replied.
“We had to discuss some things with someone from head office,” Chris said.
“What?” Rhodes moaned, and then he caught sight of Sister Sarah and the suits. “Oh.”
“Yeah. Oh indeed,” Chris grunted. “You kept this quiet, didn’t you, old man? Didn't even give us a clue that you were planning this.”
“Look at me, Christopher, my joints are buggered, I smell like a brewery, and if I'm not careful I'm going to soil myself at any moment,” Rhodes replied. “If that doesn't tell you I'm no bloody use to you, then you're even bigger idiots than I thought.”
They got his chair upright, and the suits began helping them with the large metal ramp. The priest looked at the two brothers and placed a hand on each of their shoulders.
“At least now you'll be able to do the good work without having to worry about me spoiling things or getting myself killed.”
Pete gently put his hand on the priest’s and gave him a sad smile.
“We'll never stop worrying about you, Father, and you never spoiled anything,” he said.
The priest chuckled gruffly. “Oh, lad, you do spin a healthy amount of bullshit, don't you? I taught you well.” He motioned to Sister Sarah. “You've got one of the good ones there, so try not to do anything stupid to upset her.”
“We'll try, but we make no promises,” Chris replied.
“One of the good ones?” Pete asked as he rolled the priest towards the ramp.
“You'll see,” Rhodes replied.
The wheelchair tyres crunched upon the gravel as Rhodes was rolled out into the light of day, and the priest squinted his eyes at the sun.
“Bloody hell! It’s a bit bright!” he grumbled.
Sister Sarah took a pair of sunglasses from one of the suits. She crouched down beside the priest and placed them on his face with great care.
The Idols shared a look.
“There you go, Father. That should help,” she said.
“Thank you, child,” Rhodes replied, holding her hand for a brief moment. Then he let go, and turned to Sally.
“How stupid do I look?” he asked.
“No more than usual,” Sally replied with a soft smile
“Shit. That’s not a good sign,” Rhodes finished.
Sally straightened the collar of his jacket, which was stained and tatty on the edges.
“They've got your bag and everything has been sorted out, so you just have to go, relax, and make sure you get back to your old self. And no messing about with any nuns out there, you filthy old bastard. Else I'll head over there and sort you out myself.”
Rhodes laughed, but it turned into a coughing fit. Once he was done, Sally leant down and embraced him, before giving him a soft goodbye kiss on the cheek. She straightened back up. “Right, I've got some paperwork to sort out. You boys make sure you get this man to that place safe and sound.” she said, before turning and heading back to the office.
The Idols looked down at the priest.
“Right then, boys, stop faffing over me and get back to work. You've got lots to do,” he said.
“We can—” Pete started
“No excuses, boys. Get in there, get prepared, and get on the road again. We don't fuck about when it comes to saving the souls of the innocent. You know that!”
“Yes sir,” they said in unison.
Rhodes turned to the suits and gave them a disgruntled look. “Well, don't just stand there, you prats! Take me to the car!”
The suits did as they were told.
“Wait!” Chris said, jogging over to the open car door.
“What now?” Rhodes grumbled.
Chris reached into his jacket, rustled around for a moment before producing a small packet of fruit gums. He popped them into the priest’s hand and smiled.
“For the journey,” he said.
Rhodes closed his hand over the gum packet, the wrapper crinkling in his grip. He gave Chris a soft smile.
“Thank you, son,” he said, before pulling the car door shut.
***
As he walked back to his brother, Chris noticed Sister Sarah talking to the seemin
gly mute suits. Pete followed his gaze.
“What do you think they're talking about?” he said
“I'm not sure,” Chris replied, “But I'll tell you this: something’s not right about her.”
“What? Think she's really a boy?” Pete asked.
“No, you nob,” Chris said, still focused on the nun “There's something she's not telling us. I can feel it.”
“You're so bloody paranoid, Chris,” Pete said.
Chris was about to reply, but stopped when he saw that Sarah had finished chatting with the suits, who then turned and got into the car and started the engine. Sarah approached them cheerfully. They flashed a fake smile back.
“Right, you have all the details of the case, so I shall meet you in Hullenbeck first thing tomorrow morning. Shall we say, 8am?”
“I'm sorry, what?” Chris said. “Aren't you staying?”
“Yeah. You can't just drop this on us, steal out priest, and then fuck off to leave us to get our stuff sorted,” Pete added
“I have some preparations of my own to make, plus I need to make sure that Father Rhodes gets checked in without too much fuss. Don't worry, though. I’ll be there waiting tomorrow.”
“Oh, well that’s a relief,” Chris said, sarcastically.
Sarah shook their hands one final time.
“It was a pleasure to finally meet you both, and I must say I'm looking forward to us working together.”
“Likewise,” Pete said, once again flashing his charming smile.
“Tomorrow it is then!” she said, and then she was heading for the car, the Idol brothers watching her as she went.
***
When the Idol brothers stepped back into their Portakabin office, Sally was on the phone, trying to sort out the mess that the brothers had created earlier that day. She didn't look up at them, but both Chris and Pete knew she had been crying. They understood completely, as saying goodbye to that cranky old drunk of a priest was an emotional affair. Even if he was going to come back at some point in the future, this was the first time they had ever been without him, and the brothers felt a serious sense of loss at his leaving.
Rhodes had always been there for them, ever since they were kids, and had kept them safe even in the craziest of situations. If it wasn't for him, they would be dead for certain.
Chris strode into their office with a new purpose, and Pete followed, leaving Sally to focus on her important peacekeeping mission. They had a new case to work, a new soul to save, and very little time to prepare.
“At least most the equipment is in the van already,” Pete said, opening the toolbox and removing the hamster carcass they had brought back with them. He placed it very carefully onto a sheet of kitchen towel before wrapping it gently up. “We're going to need to get another budgie from the aviary, though.”
“I'll sort it,” Chris mumbled, opening the folder Sister Sarah had given them and quickly rifling through it. Pete looked at him inquisitively.
“What’s the matter?” he said
“I've got a gut feeling something’s not right,” Chris replied.
“Told you, you shouldn't have had that coronation chicken sandwich from the petrol station.”
Chris paused for a moment and looked up at his brother.
“Not that kind of feeling, you idiot. It's this case. There’s more to it than that nun-in-training’s letting on?”
“Sarah”
“What?”
“Her name is Sarah.”
Chris sighed “Whatever. I don't know how much she actually knows about our past, or if she even truly understands what the evidence in this file represents, but this case isn't as run of the mill as it seems.”
“What the bloody hell are you waffling on about, Chris?”
Chris walked across to a tall stack of shelves in the corner of the office, filled from top to bottom with large ring binders, numbered and named with paperwork and evidence of their previous cases.
“Ever since we started doing this, what has been the same every time?” Chris asked.
“For God’s sake, skip to the end already,” Pete said.
Chris pointed to the files on the shelves.
“Every case we've ever had, every demon we've had to deal with over the years, the one thing they all have in common is that every beast we’ve exorcised has been… different. Alastor, Orabas, Furfur, the list goes on. Father Rhodes brought them out, and we kicked their asses all the way back to Hell. There was never any connection between those demons..”
Pete still didn’t have a clue what his brother was getting at.
“There are tons of people out there who could deal with this case, but head office is adamant we take it on. So much so, they've put an unqualified member of the clergy in to assist us. Why?”
Pete looked blank.
“I don't know if Sister Sarah has anything to do with this, or if she truly knows what she's letting herself in for, but I do know one thing—someone really wanted to see us take this case.”
“Of course they did,” Pete said. “We're the best there is at this stuff.”
“Well, I don't know about that,” Chris said. “But I do know we're the only people it wanted to take on this case.” Chris emphasised the 'it' of his sentence, and watched as the realisation dawned on his brother.
“What the fuck are you saying, Chris? Are you saying that the thing turning Claire Marie into the ugliest girl in the village is doing it just to get our attention? That’s mental.”
“Is it?” Chris said. “Then how do you explain this?”
Chris pulled out one of the polaroids from the Hullenbeck file and placed it in front of his brother. Pete looked down at the picture for a brief moment and then his eyes widened. He picked the picture up and studied it closely.
“Oh fuck,” he mumbled.
“My thoughts exactly.”
The photo was of five deep scratch-marks in an old floorboard, crudely scrawled to look like a stick figure with a small line across its neck, symbolising something obviously unpleasant. Claire Marie could be seen out of focus in the background, clearly in some kind of distress. Whoever had taken the photo had been documenting the case, but unfortunately they had opened a whole new can of worms. A can that brought back some very bad memories for Chris and Pete.
They had seen marks like this once before.
They were identical to the scratchings their mother had made on her bedroom door when she had been taken over by something else. Something that defiled her very soul and turned her into a puppet of violence and despair. That demon had used her body to attack their father, and then to try to kill them. Father Rhodes had dealt with that beast, releasing their mother from her anguish, and in doing so had also saved their lives.
“This can't be right, can it?” Pete said. “It can't have come back. That's not possible, is it?”
“I didn't think it was,” Chris said. “Then again, I didn't think we'd have a nun as a sidekick when I woke up this morning either.”
Pete dropped the photos back into the folder, sat back in his chair, and exhaled.
“If this is what it looks like, then this isn't going to be easy,” he said, digging a cigarette out of his pocket and lighting it.
“That's the understatement of the year,” Chris replied.
Pete reached beneath his desk and pulled out a small cardboard box, popping it onto the desk next to the wrapped-up corpse of Pippin the hamster. He exhaled a plume of smoke and leant forward with a sly smile.
“I guess there might be one bright side, though,” he said.
“What's that?” Chris replied.
Pete popped the wrapped corpse of Pippin carefully into the cardboard box, before closing the lid. He looked up at his brother with a smile.
“Maybe it doesn't know who we are, or how goddamned good we are at kicking evil's ass.”
“And what if it does? What if this thing wants to try and take us out again,” Chris replied. “Maybe it wants to finish what it sta
rted.”
“Well if that’s the case,” Pete smirked, trying to look on the bright side, “at least this time we'll be the ones with the shotgun.”
CHAPTER SIX
ALL THE WAY TO HULLENBECK
The Idols woke up at the crack of dawn and started preparing for the long trek to the little town of Hullenbeck. The night before, after studying the case file of Claire Marie one more time, they prepared and restocked everything they might need, and more for the difficult task ahead. They had done this many times before, and the efficiency was never in doubt. That being said, Chris always used a checklist every time, just to be sure.
This was going to be their first ever case without Father Rhodes as their holy backup, and they were pretty sure that, even if she might know more than she was letting on, Sister Sarah was going to be criminally unprepared. They took an extra-large bottle of holy water, should they need to refill their mini canteens, fresh coveralls for themselves and Sarah, and even some extra tough restraints straps.. No one was ever ready for how strong these things were. Pete made the executive decision to stock up on more shotgun shells and, even though his brother thought it was overkill, put three boxes of them into the equipment bag. If he was going to face the beast that took his mother, he wanted to make sure he had enough ammunition.
As the sun began to break through the clouds, Chris stepped outside, carrying the new budgie in its cage. He opened the back of the van, secured the cage in place, and draped the cloth over it. When he got back into the office, his brother was filling two thermos flasks—one with tea, and one with coffee.
“Everything all set?” Pete yawned.
“Pretty much. Just got to put our overnight bags in and we're good to go.”
“Sally's made us some grub for the road. What a legend!” Pete cheerfully exclaimed as he picked up two bags from the desk.
Once the brothers had put their overnight bags and supplies for the journey in the van, they were off, Chris insisting that his brother drive as he had driven the last five times and there was no way Pete was getting out of it this time. Pete was too tired for an argument, so made sure he took another travel mug of strong coffee with him so that he didn't fall asleep on the motorway.
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