Dance For The Devil

by S. Kodejs

  Then he understood at last. The pain would never stop. Satan was here. This was Hell.

  **

  “Weird, huh?” the younger paramedic stated. “Think it’s a stroke?”

  “Maybe. His vitals are stable, despite the amount of blood he’s lost. One of the bullets appears to have struck the spinal cord, which would account for the paralysis. It’s a miracle nothing else was hit. His pupils are responsive but fixated, not following the beam.”

  “What’s your best guess, Roy?”

  The older paramedic frowned. “Too early to say.”

  “Yeah, but between us, what do you think?”

  Roy hesitated. “Well, I’m not qualified to diagnose, of course, be my guess is that he’s probably a vegetable.”

  His partner whistled. Harsh, but Roy batted a hundred percent when it came to guessing. “Too bad. He’s awfully young, can’t be over forty. Could live another fifty years like this.”

  “Yeah, what a waste. Good looking dude, too. Looks like a movie star.”

  “Can you imagine spending the rest of your life like this? Unable to move, communicate or even do the simplest thing like take a leak? Torture. Your own body a prison. Worse than death.”

  They loaded him onto the gurney, careful to keep his neck and back stabilized. “Got him?”

  They began to carry Gil Vandercamp out to the ambulance. An officer held the door open. “What’s with that?” he asked, motioning at the large bundle of gauze on Gil’s groin.

  Roy shrugged. “Somebody cut off his pecker and shoved it up his ass. Can you believe that? Who would do such a thing?”

  The officer looked around the room, surveying the scene. Dozens and dozens of bodies covering the floor and the benches, many still wearing their hoods and clasping purple-stained Dixie cups. A host of grim medical workers carrying out babies and children. Shocked looking reporters rubbernecking at the door held back by disgusted cops. “Oh,” he said, shaking his head. “I see a room full of people who’d pay big time for that honor. Jeez, when you think of the atrocities this guy has committed... well, I kind of wish I’d done it myself.”

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  “You going home today?” Charise asked, looking at Gina shyly.

  “Nah. Don’t have no home to go to.”

  Charise thought about her own family and looked at the dozens of flower arrangements sent by both them and her friends. Her own homecoming would be heartfelt and she ached that it would be so different for Gina. The girls had asked to room together in the hospital and Gina’s area was stark in contrast.

  “Couldn’t they find your family?”

  “They found them, but they didn’t want me.”

  “Oh, Gina. I’m sorry. Maybe you could live with me? My folks won’t mind, after all, you kind of saved my life.”

  “No,” Gina said, smiling at her newborn baby. “Emily and I are a family now. We don’t need anyone else.”

  “She’s so beautiful, Gina. I’m almost envious of you.”

  Gina looked at Charise sharply. “Are you sorry you had the abortion?”

  Charise shook her head vehemently. “No, it’s for the best. I’m too young for a baby, I have my whole life ahead of me, and besides, I wouldn’t want a baby conceived by...” she broke off suddenly, looking at Emily. “I’m sorry, Gina, I didn’t mean anything...”

  Gina looked up and smiled. Her face was transformed and she actually looked pretty, at peace. A far cry from the girl Charise had known all these months. “It’s okay, I know what you mean. You do have your whole life ahead of you, but this little baby... well, she is my life. I never even wanted her, and now, well, I can’t imagine life without her. Funny how things work out, huh?”

  Charise swallowed, a lump of emotion welling in her throat. “Where are you going to live?”

  “Sergeant Carmichael said they’re going to set up a group home for the children that aren’t claimed by relatives or adopted. You know, the older ones that nobody wants. I thought I’d stay and help. Raise Emily there and help with the others. Jason’s going to stay too. You know, he’s not such a bad guy after all. I used to think he was such a prick – ooch, sorry Emily. Mommy shouldn’t talk like that! – but he’s really not too bad. Kind of cute, actually. Did you know he saved Emily’s life?”

  Charise nodded. “May I visit you?”

  Gina smiled again, stunning Charise with her beauty. “Yeah, I’ll count on it.”

  **

  Jake held his children close. The Montclaire family had been discharged from the hospital... all three of them. “Group rate,” Jake had joked to the nurse, surprised at how joyful and full of life he felt.

  “We look like an insurance company ad,” Amy commented, looking at Jake’s bandaged head, Skeeter’s cuts and bruises, and her own less visible injuries. “I’m so sorry,” she added. “I was such a jerk. This whole thing was my fault.”

  Jake brushed away the tears. “No it wasn’t. No matter what happens, remember that, sweetheart. None of this was your fault.” While he wasn’t naive enough to believe everything was fine, the hospital psychologist seemed hopeful that an eventual recovery would be made. Together, they’d get through it. “Besides,” he added, “I was a jerk, too.”

  “Yeah, me too,” Skeeter offered, climbing onto Jake’s lap. The boy was awkward and bony, yet Jake cuddled him like an infant.

  “Just one big jerk-fest,” Jake grinned.

  Cari sat down delicately. “Count me out. I, for one, was most definitely not a jerk.”

  “Hang around with us long enough and you’ll qualify,” Skeeter suggested.

  Amy snickered. “Yeah, for now we’ll make you an honorary member.”

  “Gee, I’m touched. Let’s change the subject.”

  “Alright,” Jake teased. “Let’s ask Skeet again how they found him.”

  The boy reddened, still embarrassed about being found behind some trash cans. The homeowner had heard some noise, and fearing a raid by raccoons, had come out with a bucket of water and doused the sleeping boy. It was hard to tell who was more surprised. “Not very glamorous,” Skeeter conceded. “Do the kids at school have to hear about this?”

  “They do if I have something to say about it,” Amy quipped, but her voice held none of the torment from the past.

  “Actually,” Jake said slowly. “I’ve been thinking. Maybe you won’t need to tell them anything, maybe it’s time to move on. Either back to Toronto, or somewhere new. Somewhere we can start fresh, somewhere with no bad memories.”

  Amy frowned. “What about Cari?”

  Cari smiled and took the girl’s hand. “I’d come, of course. That is... if everyone wanted me to.”

  “I don’t know,” Jake said. “It’d be pretty lousy having someone as beautiful as you hanging around –”

  “Cooking our meals, helping with homework, doing our laundry... gee, who’d want that?” Amy teased, shyly. She didn’t know Cari very well yet, but their connection had been immediate. Not only had Cari risked her own life for Amy’s, which carried a tremendous amount of weight, Amy found her to be the sweetest, gentlest person she’d ever met. No one could ever replace her mother, but Cari wouldn’t be too bad. Besides, she could see both her dad and Skeeter liked her a lot.

  “Would we call you Mom?” Skeeter wondered. “Wouldn’t that just rock? Having a witch for a stepmother, I mean. If someone did something I didn’t like, you could cast a spell on them.”

  “Turn them into a frog,” Amy suggested.

  “More misconceptions,” Cari laughed. “The very best I could do is give them a few warts.”

  Amy smiled, thinking of her English teacher, the dreaded Mr. Groom. “Warts would be good. Maybe we should stay in Victoria after all.”

  The kids wandered off, discussing various people they’d like to cast spells on, and Jake settled comfortably onto Cari’s sofa. “Would you really do that?”

  “What? Give their teachers warts?”

  “No, stay with us.
I mean, live with us. I mean, marry us.”

  “Marry all of you?”

  “Well, we do come as a package.”

  “You certainly do.”

  “I was going to propose properly, you know, bent knee, diamond ring, romantic setting, but the kids seem to have beaten me to it.”

  “They make a compelling argument. Who could resist casting spells on unsuspecting teachers?” She stroked her belly, thinking of the unborn twins. Their presence wouldn’t be known for weeks yet, at least not officially, yet she could swear she already felt different. Jake knew nothing about the babies. She had lots of time before sharing the news. Time for him to get back on his feet, to recover. A lifetime of togetherness.

  “Well?” he prompted.

  “I’m thinking...” she teased.

  “You have to say yes. You saved my life, so now you’re responsible for me.”

  “Oh, where did you hear that old wives tale?”

  “Can’t recall. Jimmy Kimmel, maybe?”

  “A bastion of accuracy if there ever was one.” A sudden thought entered her head. “Jake, did you speak to Jason yet?”

  “Yeah, went to see him last night. Poor kid, he’s pretty mixed up. He feels responsible for this whole mess. Wishes he’d spoken up earlier.”

  Cari frowned. “That’s ridiculous. He’s only a baby, sixteen. It was an awful decision he had to make, to choose between the only family he’s ever had, the only way of life he’s ever known. He overcame everything and risked his life. He’s a hero.”

  “I know. Maybe he’ll know it one day, too. Right now he’s still grieving. He’s refusing to see Gil, won’t have anything to do with him.”

  “Funny how that turned out, huh? It would have been better off if he died.”

  Jake’s mouth tightened. “Death would have been too easy. This way he’ll suffer for the rest of his life. He’s still undergoing tests but the doctors feel there’s no hope for recovery.”

  “Will you go see him?”

  “No, he’s nothing to me. While the body of Gil Vandercamp may be alive, he’s dead to me. Jason’s words, and I agree wholeheartedly.

  “Did Jason know Suzanne was giving him a placebo instead of the deadly cocktail?”

  “Not for sure. He had an inkling that she wouldn’t kill the children because she loved kids so much. They’d often talked about such a scenario, and she’d told Jason she would never hurt him.”

  “Still – he wasn’t sure?”

  “No, he drank it on faith. Although, I think at that point, he really didn’t care whether he died or not.”

  They both remained quiet for a moment, struggling to piece together the remaining puzzle. It was all so fresh, so grim. Perhaps in time it would make sense, or perhaps it never would.

  After a few minutes, Jake reached over and held her hand, stroking it. “Something good came out of this whole tragedy – we got the chance to find each other.”

  “Destiny,” she said, smiling. “I told you it was destiny.”

  “You will marry us?”

  “As long as you promise never to complain to your friends that your wife is a real witch.”

  He smiled. “Promise.” Then, hesitatingly, “you won’t mind moving? It’s a big decision, everything is here for you: your parents and friends, your house, your bookstore.”

  “My life is with you.”

  “You really wouldn’t mind?”

  Cari shifted and felt a sudden flurry in her stomach. Impossible, she was only days pregnant. Yet

  , she knew her body, with the instinct of a woman and the clairvoyance of a witch. “I’m open to adventure, haven’t you figured that out yet?” He bowed his head in acknowledgment. “Besides, I can open a bookstore anywhere, but something tells me,” she said, bending to claim his lips, “that I’ll be much too busy to tend a bookstore.”

  He moaned, mistaking her intentions for those of a lewder nature, as his lips claimed hers, one hand pulling her closer, his other hand falling unconsciously to cup protectively around her abdomen.

  Daisy looked at them quizzically, woofed softly, and curled her muzzle until it resembled a very satisfied smile.

  - The End -

  I hope you enjoyed this novel. If so, I would be very grateful if you’d leave me a review. As an independent writer, positive reviews are essential for success. Thank you and happy reading! S. Kodejs.

  Also by S. Kodejs:

  Eternity. If you could live forever, would you? No matter what the cost?

  When Gillian Leigh returns home to Cedar Island she finds the idyllic hamlet is not what it seems. Not only are her husband and baby acting strangely, so is everyone else. Toddlers able to perform unthinkable physical acts, schoolchildren with disturbing intellectual abilities, robotic adults studying her with an intensity that is frightening. It’s as if all of Cedar Island has gone mad... or maybe it’s just her. With a mental breakdown in the past, Gillian recognizes the symptoms.

  10-year-old Stacy Kennedy has plenty of experience evading difficult situations, but what’s happening on Cedar Island is beyond her capabilities. Not only is her drunken mother and current live-in boyfriend acting weirder than normal, so are her classmates. They want something from Stacy – but she’s too afraid to find out what.

  As the few uninfected residents of Cedar Island try to escape, their only avenue is abruptly cut off. Hunted by their families and friends, they must band together to uncover what horrors really lie at the center of Cedar Island. They must choose if the path to eternity is evil or simply another technological breakthrough.

  CHAPTER ONE: SUNDAY

  Gillian Leigh’s sanity took a right turn moments after she walked through her front door. Immediately, she sensed something was different.... wrong. Nothing overt, nothing she could put her finger on. The furniture lay where it should, the tropical fish swam in their same dizzying circles and three days worth of dishes congealed in the sink. Robert’s doing, of course. Robert, bless his soul, was the ultimate slob. Without conscious thought, she filled the sink with hot, soapy water and left them to soak while she checked the rest of the house.

  The feeling of unease followed her. Everything looked normal but felt wrong. As if she was viewing everything through distorted glass. There was dampness here that went beyond the chill of the air, an emptiness which juxtaposed sharply with the homey decor.

  Like dressing up a spider in doll’s clothing.

  “Where are you guys?” Gillian called, wandering through the icy, empty rooms. Her breath rose in telling wisps, the swirling tendrils adding to the surrealism. The wood-burner lay cold and untended – the ancient furnace obviously hadn’t kicked in. She gave the thermostat a rap, then reset the dial, and Old Harry groaned to life with such reluctance that Gillian knew she’d be calling the repairman again.

  The century old farmhouse was decorated in shabby-chic, more by necessity than design. It suited the architecture and Gillian’s early attempts at sophistication had given way to practicality when Michael was born. Anything breakable was either packed away or stored too high for clumsy, inquiring fingers. In its place were buckets of toys. “Like living on Sesame Street,” Robert liked to grumble, and Gillian would sweetly explain that it was a hell of a lot nicer to look at Lego than his grandmother’s ugly glass vase. Despite Robert’s complaints, he’d never come up with a suitable refrain.

  Darkness gloomed, cloaking the room, obscuring the corners. She shivered slightly, then began snapping on lights, every one she could find. The light helped, a little, but the unease was still pervasive. Gillian surveyed the room, frowning. Pretty gingham pillows lay haphazardly on the sofa, offset nicely by slate green walls. Mikey’s first attempt at finger painting hung like puddles of color amongst more sophisticated artwork. On the surface, everything was normal. She frowned, her fingers drumming absently on the white-washed wainscoting. What was wrong? And, where was everyone?

  They should be waiting, expectantly, as excited as she. Gillian had been rehea
rsing the heart-warming scene throughout the entire wretched journey home to Cedar Island. A joyous homecoming, bounding into each others’ arms with passionate hugs and sloppy kisses. Shit, she thought sarcastically, that kind of cheesy sentimentality apparently happens only on coffee commercials.

  Tears threatened and she held them in check. Robert would say she was being too emotional, too needy, too stupid for words, and she would tell him to fuck off, while secretly agreeing. She swallowed hard. Robert and Mikey were probably at Jeannie’s house, or perhaps one of their other friends. But... Jesus... was it such a crime to miss your family?

  I’m just tired. That’s all. And it was true. Obviously more fatigued than she thought. Twenty-two hours without sleep was bound to make anyone jittery. But it was worth it, to be home with her family, holding her baby again, safe in her husband’s arms.... that was worth twenty-two hours and any number of snow-covered mountain passes combined.

  Cedar Island was smack dab in the middle of British Columbia, or as Robert sometimes joked, the middle of nowhere. It was an island by the narrowest of definitions, land-locked in all directions by dense surrounding forests and largely uninhabited countryside, but an island all the same. The mighty Fraser River, almost fourteen hundred kilometres in length, grudgingly split apart to allow the hamlet of Cedar Island to spring up in the center of its muddy waters. The only connection to the mainland was via an old metal orange-colored bridge which the residents lovingly called ‘Orange Ollie’.

  Her dog, Casper, bound in from nowhere, going nuts at her feet, whining and falling all over himself. “What’s up, you crazy mutt? Don’t tell me you’re glad to see me. I’m honoured.” Gillian’s auburn hair spilled crazily over her shoulders as she bent to soothe the black lab and she pushed it back in frustration. Even when she attempted to get it under control, like today, the copper masses managed to escape in maniacal fashion until she resembled – as Robert liked to say – a giant, red Brillo pad.