Dance For The Devil

by S. Kodejs

  Gil smiled, feeling the power and greatness course through him. This was the apex his entire life was geared toward. This was his final, most perfect accomplishment. This was the reason he’d been born, to lead these people to Satan. I’m not, he thought, unlike Jesus Christ. Had he lived in a more tolerant era, he might have been able to achieve more, to lead more people away from Christian hypocrisy and toward the true purpose of mankind: unlimited freedom where natural laws reigned instead of manmade rules, where personal pleasure and gratification were encouraged instead of punished. A world where mankind was God.

  Satan beckoned with all the seduction of a lush mistress, with all the power of a Supreme Being. Gil licked his lips. His reward would be eternal.

  **

  “Let me get this straight,” the trucker said, shaking his head. “Your daughter was kidnapped by a bunch of Satan-loving wing nuts, and you think they’re throwing some nasty shindig which involves human sacrifices?”

  “Exactly.”

  “So you hijacked me to save your little girl, not ’cause you’re a couple of psycho-terrorists?”

  Jake nodded. “You’ve got the picture.” He’d put the gun away minutes ago, when it became apparent that Bobby-Dean Jensen was not a threat.

  Bobby-Dean chewed his gum and thought. “Well, I knew you weren’t all bad when you loaded your dog into the cab. I mean, who the hell takes a dog with them to commit a crime? Yep, I can sympathise with your predicament – stuck in the shitter with no ass-wipe in sight.”

  “During a major bout of diarrhea,” Cari added primly.

  Jake blinked, but Bobby-Dean grinned. “You got a way with words, little lady. Here’s what I’m a’thinkin’. I got a couple of kids myself and it would make me madder than snake-piss if someone messed with them. So I’m gonna give you a hand, but seeing that I have fifteen-grand worth of perishables in the back of my rig, I can’t linger too long.”

  “What exactly are you hauling?” Jake inquired.

  “Dairy products, mostly. Lots of ice cream, little bit of produce, couple sides of beef. Got a midnight delivery, but I can stretch it for a few hours. So, whaddya want me to do?”

  “Step on it, for one thing,” Jake suggested.

  The trucker punched the gas pedal and the big rig accelerated rapidly, handling surprisingly gracefully on the winding road. “How far?”

  “Another forty kilometres, at least.”

  “It’ll take too long,” Cari fretted. The power she had sensed earlier was growing stronger, darker. It loomed like a caustic-smoke cloud smouldering over the entire horizon. She tried relaxing and concentrating, on projecting her consciousness ahead, but all feelers were blocked by its solid mass.

  “And those cop-fellows won’t be much help?” Bobby-Dean remarked.

  “No, you heard them. They’ll send some officers from the nearest detachment, but they’re even farther away than us.” It was a miracle Jake had even gotten through to Benny Carmichael. The police sergeant had received information that a large cult-gathering was assembling on the eastern part of the island, a hundred kilometres away from Vandercamp’s locale, and he was dispatching his team in that direction. “How sure are you?” Carmichael asked.

  “Only a hunch,” Jake admitted, “but a strong one. We stole the address from a Marvelworks employee.” He sighed. “I don’t have concrete evidence that Amy, or even Vandercamp, is there. But it feels right.”

  Carmichael thought rapidly. “I’m going to stick with my original plan, Jake. I’ve got everyone in place, and it would take too long to disassemble them for what could amount to another false lead. I’ll speak to the Sooke detachment and have them cooperate. You’ll get good backup from those boys, and then we’ll be covered on all ends.”

  Bobby-Dean was exceeding the speed limit by more than half, and he chewed his huge wad of gum determinedly as he navigated the large rig along the winding road. “We’re going to need some more help,” he said suddenly. “I’m gonna call up some fellow truckers on the radio. Don’t know how many will be in this neck of the woods, but they’ll come if they can. Truckers are tough sons-of-bitches. You can always count on ‘em.”

  Jake braced himself as the truck took a corner too fast, then added up his odds. He was facing a dangerous, cunning group of fanatics who thought nothing of killing and torturing others, and his fighting troops consisted of a small-boned woman , a stranger who drove his semitrailer like it was an Indy sports car, and the possible help of some small-town police officers whose training probably consisted of harassing jaywalkers and untangling domestic squabbles. If he was real lucky, he might get some truckers to lend a hand.

  Cari looked at him, as if sensing his thoughts. “Not the best odds.”

  “No, but better than going alone.”

  In the darkness of the cab, they snaked their hands together, holding tightly, drawing strength.

  **

  Suzanne entered the nursery, smiling lovingly at the seventeen children playing happily. Their ages ranged from three months to eleven years. After the children turned twelve, they were formally inducted into the church, and then they were permitted to join the adults in all meetings and activities.

  “Hi guys,” she said, and they turned to her, smiling. Suzanne was a favorite in the daycare, frequently stopping by to play with the children. If it had been up to her, she would have had a dozen children, but Gil had allowed only one. Jason. Her throat swallowed as she thought of him. Gil still wouldn’t tell her where her son was, but she had a pretty good idea. He was safer there than here, but in a while, even this would cease to matter to her. When she crossed over, she could have as many children as she wanted, and Gil couldn’t say anything about it. On the other side, she could have anything she desired.

  “Hey, kids, Auntie Suzy has a special drink for you. Grape juice! Yummy. I made it specially for you, you’ll really like it, nice and sweet, just like you. Who wants to be first?”

  The children clamored around, hands outstretched. The older kids helped their young siblings hold the glasses. “That’s good, careful not to spill it.” She took three baby bottles, with laced-formula for the infants, and propped them into the babies’ mouths. “That’s it, drink it all, my little sweethearts.”

  She cradled the smallest baby, feeling its warmth as its fragile body relaxed. Tiny little Michael, a miracle baby, conceived after years of infertility. His parents were overjoyed. Michael closed his eyes as the drug took effect. “That’s it, precious, go to sleep.”

  All the children had finished their drinks, and the effects were immediate. They began lying down, together, heads on each other’s tummies, legs intertwined. Within a few minutes, Suzanne was the only one left standing.

  The door opened a crack. “Mother!” Jason said, horrified as his eyes took in the scene. He saw the empty glasses and he understood at once. “Mother, how could you?” The venom and hatred oozed from every pore.

  Suzanne whirled around, a lone tear streaking down her cheek. “Jason! You’ve got to understand, it was the only way.”

  Jason was shaking his head, blocking the girls from the room, but they pushed in. Amy gasped and Gina swore coarsely. “Run,” Jason told them, but it was too late. Gil Vandercamp stood behind them, blocking their escape.

  “Ah, perfect,” Gil said, exhibiting no surprise at their appearance. “I was just coming to get you, so you’ve saved me the trip downstairs. Come along, you’ll be joining the ceremony. Actually, you’ll be part of the ceremony. Especially you, Jason.” Gil smiled proudly. “You’ll be my highest gift to Satan ever, Son.”

  “No,” Suzanne whispered in anguish.

  “You’re going to sacrifice your own son?” Gina asked. “That’s cold, man. Really sick...” She faltered, lost for words.

  Gil shook his head. “Others never understood, but you do, don’t you Jason? I was angry with you earlier, but not anymore. I love you too much to stay angry with you. You understand about love, don’t you Son? You understand my
love and devotion for Seth. He’s your master, too, and he’s calling us now, leading us to his kingdom.” Gil stretched out his hand. “This is the moment we’ve been working towards, Jason, the time to crossover, just like we planned. Come with me willingly, Son. The gift will be purer that way, and we’ll all join you. We’ll be together for eternity.”

  Jason lurched back. “No.”

  Gil sighed. “This isn’t the time to be difficult, Jason. Don’t let me down. Don’t make me hurt you.”

  Suzanne thrust forward, placing a Dixie cup in Jason’s hand. “Drink this,” she urged. “Drink this before he can hurt you.”

  “No,” Amy cried. “Don’t do it, Jason.”

  Gil growled and pushed Suzanne out of the way. “No, Son!”

  “Drink it,” Suzanne urged. She looked directly into his eyes, gritting out, “Trust me,” before Gil viciously backhanded her, causing her to fall and strike her head.

  “Give me the cup, Jason,” he hollered. “This isn’t the way it’s supposed to be.” He took another step forward, but before he could reach his son, Jason tipped the cup to his lips and guzzled the contents.

  Immediately, Jason began to feel woozy. His legs grew numb, and he slipped to the floor, gazing up at Gil, at Suzanne lying on the floor with a thin line of blood streaking her temple, at Amy cowering with the other girls. It was hard to think, hard to concentrate. He screwed up his face and yelled, “Run, Amy,” The words came out weakly but clearly as he lost consciousness.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Suzanne stirred, massaging her bleeding scalp. Through blurred, watery vision she saw her son lying lifelessly on the floor. Gil’s outraged face loomed above her. “See what you’ve done?” he snarled. His chiselled, tanned features were enhanced by his emotions, and Suzanne marvelled that he’d never looked so handsome and virile. Always powerful, always a magnate for people of either sex, Gil had the ability to draw others and convert them to his unique brand of thinking, and Suzanne, despite her throbbing head, experienced an overwhelming attraction to the man she both loved and loathed.

  A commotion behind her, catching Gil’s immediate interest, and he jerked abruptly. As he assessed the situation, his eyes took on a reptilian gaze. Suzanne noticed the dangerous way his brow twitched; she knew, inside, Gil was seething.

  “Scatter,” Gina yelled, and the four girls, after their initial impulse to cling, began to run in opposite directions. Lauren was the slowest of the quartet and Gil bypassed her easily, giving her a vicious shove which sent the tall girl sprawling.

  He remained focused on his prey: Amy. The other girls were window dressing – Amy, in lieu of Jason, would suffice as his main sacrifice before the congregation drank the potassium cyanide-laced grape juice. For a moment, he regretted raping her; a virgin would have been more fitting.

  Amy ran quickly, feinting a few times, hoping to throw him off track, but her depleted strength hindered her progress, and she’d barely reached the front door before Gil had her in his grasp. He dragged her back, kicking and screaming, twisting her hair with a grip so painful it began tearing from her scalp.

  “Charming,” Suzanne remarked. “Very caveman.” She pulled herself together, somewhat, and was standing. Albeit shakily.

  “It wouldn’t have been necessary had you not interfered,” he replied sarcastically. “We’d best get back to the meeting. Harris will have finished passing out the cocktails by now.”

  Suzanne jerked her head above her shoulder. “What about the others?”

  Gil smirked. “They won’t get far. If the sentries don’t get them, the Pit Bulls will.”

  “Pit Bulls? You got Pit Bulls without telling me? When did this all happen?”

  “This morning, to prepare for the meeting. I didn’t want anyone interrupting our meeting once we’d begun. This way, no one gets in and no one gets out.”

  “For Seth’s sake, Gil, you know I wanted Labradors. Pit Bulls are so lower-class.”

  “You’re really some piece of work, Suzanne. You just murdered your son along with a roomful of children, I’ve got this screaming banshee here, we’re poised to undergo the most important journey of our lives, and you’re concerned about what kind of guard dogs I bought? You’re a fucking lunatic, Suzanne, you know that? I got Pit Bulls because I wanted a dog that could tear someone to pieces, not lick them to death. Now, are you coming or not?

  Suzanne blinked. She looked around the room, seeing the scattered forms of the children and the prone figure of Jason, then spared a glance at Amy, still kicking and screaming like a beast. She noticed the blond hair coming out in tufts where Gil was holding on, then sighed. There was nothing more she could do here – her work was done.

  She bent and kissed Jason’s cool forehead one last time. “Goodbye, sweetheart, I’ll see you again someday, on the other side. Remember, I’ll always love you.”

  **

  The first barrier was an eight-foot-high, electronically-charged barbed-wire fence. The second was two, fully grown, snarling Pit Bulls baring their teeth with a savagery that made the three humans shiver.

  “Those are the butt-ugliest dogs I’ve ever seen,” Bobby-Dean remarked.

  “I think that’s the idea,” Jake said. “Kind of gives you the feeling we’re not welcome.”

  “Never felt more uninvited in my life,” Cari agreed. “Now what?”

  “Know any spells that might put these brutes to sleep?” Jake wondered.

  “Perhaps, but that won’t help with the fence.”

  Jake bent and picked up a long stick.

  Cari narrowed her eyes. “Don’t tell me you’re planning to pole-vault?”

  “No, just seeing if Vandercamp paid his electrical bill.” Jake hurled the stick into the fence and all three stepped back as it crackled. “Well, that answers that. If anyone has any bright ideas, now’s the time to spill ‘em.”

  Bobby-Dean nodded slowly. “I’ve got an idea, wait here a second.”

  “Fine by me,” Jake said. “I have no other plans. How ‘bout you, Cari? Any plans?”

  She shook her head slowly, maintaining eye contact with the dogs. Their bared teeth glinted in the moonlight, moistened with frothy strands of saliva.

  The truck driver returned with a huge side-of-beef. “This is supposed to go to Harold’s Butcher Shop, but I think we can put it to better use.” He waved it in front of the dogs, running his hands roughly along the raw meat to release its scent.

  The Pit Bulls focused their eyes alertly and licked their chops. “Here you go, doggies, doesn’t this look yummy?” For the next two minutes he teased the animals, holding it close to the fence, then snatching it back, each time letting it get a little closer to their snapping jaws. Occasionally he held it high, and at first, the dogs growled and whined, but as he held it only inches from the fence they began to jump.

  “Give them a little taste,” Jake suggested, and Bobby-Dean nodded, gouging his fingers into the meat and tearing off morsels which he threw over the fence. The dogs ate them savagely.

  “I don’t think these doggies have been fed for a while,” Bobby-Dean said.

  Jake nodded. “Makes them meaner. More vicious.”

  “And it makes our job a little easier.” With one motion, he threw the beef over the fence, impaling it on the barb-wired top. “Come and get it, assholes,” he yelled.

  In unison, the dogs leapt and struck the fence at the same time. Their spiked collars became entangled in the fence, and they hung there, convoluting and twitching bizarrely as ten-thousand volts coursed through their bodies.

  After several long moments of crackling electricity and burnt flesh, the sparks died and the animals hung lifelessly, their bodies smoldering. “And that, kids,” Bobby-Dean said, “is why we don’t play with electricity.” He took Jake’s stick and tossed it at the fence.

  “It shorted out, “ Jake said, grinning despite the carnage before him.

  “Yeah. Worked like a hot-damn. ‘Course you owe me for the beef.”


  “Gladly. I’m just grateful you’re not hauling vegetables.”

  Bobby-Dean chuckled. “Hell, I’ll only charge you wholesale because I like you so much, and because I haven’t had this much fun since my wife left me and I spent the next two months alley-catting in sleazy bars. Now, who wants to be the first to climb the fence?”

  Cari looked at the fence, then at Daisy, who was wagging her tail maniacally. Obviously the death of her fellow canines hadn’t unduly upset her. “Sorry old gal,” she whispered, patting the dog’s big yellow head. “You’d better stay here. I’ll be back, I promise.”

  Daisy whined, thumping her tail engagingly.

  “Hey, don’t blame me. You’re too darn fat to hoist over that fence. Oh, don’t give me that pitiful look. Alright, you’re just big-boned; does that make you feel better?”

  Daisy turned around three times before sitting with a thump in front of the truck.

  **

  Gina ran through the kitchen, stopping momentarily to grab a carving knife that lay opportunely in the drying rack. She kept looking over her shoulder for cult-members but the house was desolate. The kitchen door was ajar and she ran through, thinking rapidly, ultimately choosing the protection of the surrounding tree cover. Which way to the cliffs? She tried to think what Jason had said but couldn’t remember.

  Her body ached from giving birth so recently and she knew she wouldn’t be able to run far. Her plan was to take her chances with the cliff, jumping off if need be. If it was the most dangerous way out it would be the least patrolled. In any case, she’d rather take her chances with the forces of nature than the brutality of mankind.

  **

  Charise saw Gina from the corner of her eye and remembered the rules: go in opposite directions. It didn’t occur for her to disobey. Gina Kellogg had been giving orders from the moment Charise had been captured, and Charise was grateful. For all Gina’s wise-cracking and nasty comments, she’d been the one to keep Charise sane.