Dance For The Devil

by S. Kodejs

  “Ramona.”

  “Oh, I’m kidding, but don’t worry, I’ve got 911 on speed dial. Go on, get out of here. If I have any problems, I’ll call you.”

  “Okay. You’re a lifesaver, you do know that?”

  “Sure do, just don’t forget that sentiment when you make out my Christmas bonus.”

  Cari laughed. “I never do, Romi, I never do.”

  **

  Cynthia sidled up to Gil petulantly. “You never let me have any fun.”

  “You’re drunk and you’re disgusting.”

  “I remember a time when you found me attractive.”

  “That was before you got fat and started throwing yourself at every man within a two- hundred-mile radius. Really, Cynthia, you should get control of yourself before someone else is forced to.”

  “Don’t you dare threaten me.”

  “Consider it more like a promise.”

  Her eyes narrowed speculatively. “Then promise me something I’d like – new blood. Jake’s perfect.”

  “He’s not for public consumption.”

  She decided to try charm, pouting sweetly, unaware that her makeup was running in greasy rivulets. “You never share your toys.”

  “You can have him when I’ve finished with him.”

  “When will that be?”

  “Soon, Cynthia, but in the meantime, let’s get you another drink, shall we? The festivities are getting underway.”

  “Oh, you old devil, what have you got planned?”

  “Just what you asked for, Cyn, new blood. We’ll party tonight.”

  **

  Jake thought he heard a scream, but couldn’t be sure. He stood still, listening. Nothing.

  He hesitated. Probably his imagination, or someone on the beach, fooling around.

  Silence.

  Better check on the kids, just to be certain.

  Skeeter was already asleep, mouth wide open, snoring peacefully.

  Amy was asleep, too, buried deeply under her covers. So deep Jake couldn’t hear her breathing. He crossed over, gently pulling back the flowered comforter. Instead of his daughter, he found a pile of clothing.

  He flicked on the overhead light, panicking, looking for clues, eyes drawn to the window, ajar. She wouldn’t! It was too high. A fall from this height could kill her.

  “Amy,” he yelled, crossing to the window, flinging it wide. He looked down at the tangled mass of limbs and hair that he knew was his daughter. “Amy!”

  **

  Cari spread everything on the bed, carefully surveying the contents. Although she had a good idea of what she was looking for, she consulted her Book of Shadows to be thorough. She was certain she would find what she needed to construct the amulet from her pile of treasures.

  She cast aside an unusual stone. Like everything else here, the stone had caught her eye at some point in her life, and she’d brought it home to her collection. The stone was a strange mix of jade and quartz, found near the crystalline waters of Cayoosh Creek. The stone, like everything else here, represented an item Cari felt she might need someday.

  The collection was eclectic and diverse. To an observer, her horde would hold no connection between items. A mishmash: some bits retained for their sentimentality, others for their beauty or rarity, still others for their sheer oddity. The bulk of the collection was gathered for no better reason than these items had compelled Cari to pick each one of them up, fondle it thoughtfully, and tuck it into her pocket.

  It was difficult to make an amulet for someone she didn’t know. Amulets needed to be carefully planned, to be created with the personality of the bearer in mind. Sometimes a single item would suffice, depending on intent. For this purpose, she decided to choose a mixture – hopefully covering all bases. Kind of like an umbrella amulet.

  She sucked in her cheeks and chewed on her lower lip, finally selecting an old key chain, long broken. It was a cheap Hawaiian souvenir, representing some Polynesian god... she forgot which one. No matter. The theology was irrelevant, but the shiny plastic eyes would protect against evil and promote good health. Perfect. The symbolism of the eyes, the udjat, was universal and had been used since the time of the ancient Egyptians... maybe even before.

  A small bell, taken from a pet collar, would protect against not just evil, but evil magic, although at this point Cari couldn’t be sure that force was involved.

  Some fabric scraps. Hmmm. Red for protection, pink for overcoming evil. Why not? Couldn’t hurt.

  A sprinkling of angelica root, not only to ward off evil, but also to encourage good luck in both health and family matters.

  What was this? A dried up old beetle? Poor fellow must have crawled in here and died. She carefully wrapped it in the fabric scraps, taking it as an omen: beetles, too, protected against evil magic. A bit of overkill, but what the heck, might as well make this amulet as powerful as possible. Who knew that Jake was up against? She tossed everything into a gris-gris, a small cloth bag fashioned expressly for this purpose.

  Cari stood up and stretched, stopped for a moment to scratch her dog’s head, then positioned the glass ball, sitting directly before it. She shifted slightly to get comfortable, allowing her mind to clear. She focused on the glass, seeing through it, willing an image of Jake’s face.

  Nothing.

  She repeated the process until she grew weary, then took a break to make herself a cup of tea. Daisy followed her into the kitchen, putting her head in Cari’s lap. “Go on, you old mooch, I’m not giving you a cookie. You’re too damn fat as it is.”

  Daisy wagged her tail.

  Cari sighed, then broke off half a cookie and gave it to the dog. Why did Labradors have such soulful eyes? “You’re very bad mannered, Daisy, it’s absolutely disgusting the way you mooch. You’re a shameless hussy.” Daisy answered by licking Cari’s hand. “Yeah, I know, chocolate’s my favorite too. Don’t tell anyone I’m giving you this, though, chocolate’s very bad for dogs.” Daisy wagged her tail again. “I agree, how can anything that tastes this good be bad for you? Okay, girl, time to get back to work.”

  She settled in front of the fishing ball again, summoning Jake’s image into her consciousness, trying to remember the lines of his face, the dark curls of his hair. The clarity of the glass hazed slightly as an image began to appear. The lines were fuzzy and watery, as if one was without reading glasses. Cari concentrated further, keeping her body relaxed and her mind clear.

  She jerked back suddenly, gasping softly as the image cleared. It was not the portrait she’d been imagining, nor a clue to Jake’s whereabouts. She blinked with surprise and the image dissipated.

  Jake was in deeper trouble than she’d realized – the image was an inverted pentagram.

  Cari thought for a moment, then carefully wrapped the glass ball and placed it up high, out of harm’s way. She returned to her bed, looking at the contents spread over the duvet. She needed to add one more item to the amulet. She needed to make a Sator Square.

  With a fine-tipped black pen and a scrap of paper, she slowly printed in block letters:

  S A T O R

  A R E P O

  T E N E T

  O P E R A

  R O T A S

  She studied her handiwork for a moment. The powerful magic of the ancient Sator Square would be the finishing touch. She slipped the square into the gris-gris. The amulet was finished. Now it was up to Jake.

  Cari felt exhaustion wash over her like a fine-tooth comb. She flicked off the light and slipped under the covers, too tired to put away her treasures. They lay on top of her like guardsmen, glistening in the strong moonlight. Daisy slunk up on the bed, ears flat as she waited for Cari’s admonishment. When none came, the dog slipped into a deep, innocent sleep, untroubled by the images now filling her mistress’s dreams.

  **

  The Emergency Ward at Victoria General was overflowing with Halloween revellers. Two men with knife wounds bled inconsiderately on the admitting desk as they continued their heated squ
abble. It wasn’t clear which man started the fight, but both seemed willing to persist for the benefit of the gaping patients. A sturdy nurse rang for security to keep the men apart until a doctor could stitch them up. Another man held his forearm gingerly, an apparent firecracker victim, with burns scorching most of his right hand. A toddler sat cradled in his mother’s arms, his Winnie-the-Pooh costume torn and muddied. Hit by a car, his mother explained, her terse face belying the calmness of her voice.

  Three hours later, with the clock ticking closer to dawn, an elderly doctor finally approached Amy, clucking like a mother hen as he probed her wrist. “Jumping out of windows, eh? Tsk, tsk. Where’s the sense in that, young lady?” A sprained wrist, he proclaimed after an interminable amount of poking. “But we’ll X-ray to be sure.”

  Aside from some scrapes and bruises, Amy was remarkably lucky. The doctor wrapped her wrist in a Tensor bandage and gave her an envelope of Tylenol. “No more flying without your pilot’s licence,” he admonished, sending her on her way. Amy was too tired and too sore to acknowledge the lame joke. She wanted to go home, crawl into her warm bed and forget this entire night. She leaned against a post as her dad went to collect Skeeter.

  “Amy?”

  “Alex?” Amy opened her eyes. “What are you doing here?”

  “It’s Elise,” Alex said shakily. He looked awful – pale and sweaty, his skinny body racked with uncontrollable shivers. “She’s... I think...she’s...dead.”

  “What!”

  “We went to the club... only it wasn’t a regular nightclub, just an old warehouse. At first it was cool, but then things got out of control. We were drinking tequila. First with orange juice, then straight, like shooters. Someone gave us something else to drink... I don’t know what.” He was babbling and Amy concentrated to make sense of his words.

  “It was really fun, at first, everyone was dancing, making out, then they took Elise –”

  “Who took her?” Amy asked sharply.

  “Dunno. Couldn’t tell, but she was happy, giggling. Didn’t see any danger. Then suddenly she was naked, in front of everyone, up on a platform, and she wasn’t giggling anymore, just screaming. She kept trying to get away but they wouldn’t let her.” He started sobbing. “They raped her, Amy. Over and over, a whole bunch of them. I tried to help her but they held my arms, made me watch. Oh, God, Amy, they made me watch.”

  “Oh, Alex, what are you saying?”

  “I don’t know. My head’s fuzzy, I can’t think straight. I got to go, before they see me, before they catch me and kill me, too. I gotta get out of here!”

  “Wait! What about Jason? Where’s Jason?”

  “Don’t know.”

  “Was he a part of it? Tell me Alex, I need to know.”

  Alex shook his head, his throat swallowing convulsively. “It was so hard to tell, everyone wore costumes. But Jason wouldn’t do that to Elise, she’s his friend. Was. She was our friend.” Wild-eyed, he turned and ran out the exit door, into the black night.

  “Amy?” Jake said, returning. “Are you okay? Who were you talking to?”

  She turned to face him, then saw the two policemen, bearing straight for her. “Miss?” the younger cop asked politely. “The kid you were just talking to, did you see where he went?”

  “He left,” Amy said, pointing to the exit.

  “We need to talk to him, it’s very important. Do you know him?”

  Amy looked at the cops, then at her dad. She started to tell the truth but something came over her, some instinct for survival. She shook her head.

  “What did he want?”

  “Money, spare change.”

  “Did you give him any?”

  “No,” Amy said, starting to cry. “I didn’t give him anything. I didn’t help him at all.”

  “It’s okay, sweetheart,” Jake said soothingly. “Excuse us, officers, my daughter is exhausted and I need to get her home. Everything will be okay in the morning, sweetheart. You’ll see. A good night’s sleep can cure anything.”

  No it can’t, Amy thought. She sobbed all the way home, her face pressed against the car window, tears mirroring the rain drops cascading down the other side of the glass.

  **

  Almost five o’clock in the morning by the time they finally got home, and Jake was still unable to sleep. He tossed and turned, a dark premonition of gloom weighing heavily on his chest. The bed sheets felt like chains, tying him down. When the phone rang shrilly at seven, he answered it almost eagerly, glad for the interruption.

  Gil was babbling hysterically. Something was wrong at Marvelworks and he needed Jake immediately.

  Jake frowned. He planned to take the day off, taking care of Amy, fluffing her pillows, bringing her soup, and finding out why the hell she’d been climbing out her bedroom window. He pressed his fingers to his temples and Gil continued his tirade.”Look,” he said wearily, “I spent the better part of last night at the Emergency Ward and I’m really beat. Can it wait?”

  “No,” Gil said abruptly, “it’s urgent. I need you here.”

  Jake felt like his head was splitting open. “Okay, I’ll come in for an hour or so, but I need to be back home before the kids wake up.”

  “Phone Carmen, she’ll come over early.”

  “Jesus, Gil, haven’t you been listening to what I’m saying? We’re in crisis here, I need to be with my kids.”

  Gil’s response was to hang up.

  Carmen, bless her soul, offered to come immediately. At the ages of fifteen and twelve, his children were certainly old enough to fend for themselves in the morning, and occasionally did, but this morning he felt better having a reliable adult around. Carmen whistled in like a warm summer breeze, wrapped the apron around her ample middle and shooed him out the door.

  The parking lot at Marvelworks was already half full. So, his wasn’t the only early-morning frantic call. He stopped at his secretary’s desk, rubbing his eyes. The lack of sleep made him look haggard, and Lisa looked at him compassionately. “What’s the buzzword?” he asked her, grabbing a cup of coffee.

  Lisa shook her head. “Doesn’t look good, you’d better go straight to the conference room. Gil’s expecting you.”

  He grimaced, gagging on the coffee. It was stale and burnt, yesterday’s sludge. Another swallow and he tossed it out. “Sorry,” Lisa apologized, “no time to make fresh.”

  “Actually, it was just what I needed to bolt me awake. Man, what a night.”

  “Yeah, I heard about your daughter.”

  Jake frowned. “Really? How?”

  “Office grapevine – better than Email.” She cast her face down, flushing.

  A pasty-faced Dick Lendall clapped Jake on the back. “C’mon, old man, I’ll walk with you to the conference room. Word’s out that Vandercamp’s gone apeshit, and there’ll be safety in numbers.”

  Jake looked around. Everyone wore funeral expressions. “Come on, it can’t be that bad.”

  Dick’s lips quirked. “That’s right, you haven’t been here long, have you, Montclaire? Take a word of advice – sit back, keep quiet, and when heads start to roll, pray like a bastard that it’s not yours.”

  **

  Gil waited at the head of the table, eyeing everyone as they took their seats. Without preamble, he threw a video game on the table. “Any explanation for this?” He paused for effect. “No? Let me enlighten you. This is an advance copy of Vids-4-Kids newest game, which is being released today. It’s called Galactic Gallery. In a nutshell, it’s a direct rip-off of Pluto’s Playground.”

  A startled murmur rippled thought the room, and Jake’s headache swelled to gigantic proportions. He knew exactly what that meant – somebody at Marvelworks stole the plans for Pluto’s Playground and sold them to a rival company. The video game industry was as competitive and cutthroat as the games it developed, and the stakes were high: millions of dollars in revenue stood to be gained... or lost.

  “Goddamnit!” Gil bellowed. “Who would do such a thing? Yo
u all know we’ve been developing this game for almost six months. We have advance buyers, our advertising campaign is set, the game was due to be launched next week, just in time for Christmas.”

  “What exactly does this mean?” Dick Lendall asked. “Dollar-wise?”

  “Dollar-wise, Dick?” Gil snarled. “Let’s see if I can put this into terms you’ll understand. We’re fucked. Already, three orders were cancelled and that’s just the beginning. More will come in after they read this.” Gil held up an early edition of The Province newspaper. Galactic Gallery had an enticing blurb on the front page. “There’s more inside.” Gil continued, his face matching the cherry-red wallpaper behind him as he flung open the newspaper. “The entertainment section gives Galactic Galaxy four-stars and a three-inch-accolade on how cutting edge the whole fucking thing is, and the business section gives a half page write-up on Vids-4-Kids and how Stephen Morris is the second-fucking-coming of Christ. Their stock is up a dollar-fifteen while ours dropped twenty cents. Anyone care to comment?”

  “How bad is it? Can we still release Pluto’s Playground?” someone queried. Jake didn’t recognize the voice, and didn’t bother looking around to see who asked. It was a dumb question, not worth acknowledging.

  Gil, however, pounced on it. “Can we still release it?” he mimicked, his voice rising several decibels until it sounded high and girlish. “Can we still release it? Haven’t you been fucking listening? Of course we can’t release it, you imbecile. To release it now would make us look stupid. Like copycats.”

  “But... but the spinoff marketing might generate interest.”

  “It might, but that’s not what Marvelworks is about. We might not be the biggest but we’re the best. We aren’t releasing a game that rehashes what’s already been done. If we do, we lose our innovative edge. Now, somebody in this company sold me out, and when I find who, he’ll pay big time. I’ll personally rip him from limb-to-fucking-limb. Then I’ll have him charged with industrial espionage, and that’s not a threat, it’s a fucking promise. Now, everyone get the fuck out of here so I can think. Except for you, Jake. I need to talk to you privately.”