Hell Fire cs-2

by Ann Aguirre

  Ah, damn. I could have lived without knowing that.

  “Uh, you’re welcome. I guess.”

  His expression became grave. “I never wanted your mother, Corine. She was one of the truly good souls. They started using my price to purge the town of those they considered undesirable. But I didn’t take her, even when they performed the ritual around her body. Her death was clean. I don’t know where she is now.”

  “I guess it’s time for me to go,” I said.

  “I won’t see you again,” Maury answered with finality. “Unless . . .” His expression became crafty. “Oh yeah, I like that idea. I like it a lot.”

  Before I could ask, I spun outward, hurtling back toward my injured body at breakneck speed. With a strangled cry, I struggled upright to find myself in Chance’s arms. He ran full out, carrying me. I felt every jolt, every rough patch. I moaned, both hands going to the knife in my side. I’d gotten what I wanted; they were all gone.

  Why didn’t I feel better about it? I should have felt vindicated. The twelve had to be stopped; their ancestors had done a terrible thing to this town, and their descendants had been carrying on their work.

  Instead I only felt sick. We’d loosed a demon on the world, even if we hadn’t conjured the thing in the first place. Then it got worse.

  Last Call

  The knife . . . melted into my skin, and I felt a searing heat against my wound. I screamed, startling Chance so that he nearly dropped me. I rubbed my fingers downward, back and forth across my side. My fingers came back slippery with blood, but they found no wound.

  How was that possible?

  His voice sounded raw. “I’ve got you, love. You’re going to be fine, I promise. We’ll get you out, and—”

  “Put me down,” I demanded.

  Chance stopped running. I guess he noticed that my voice sounded stronger, because he complied, keeping a hand on my shoulder. “We need to get you to the doctor, Corine. We’re done here.”

  I raised my shirt, twisted, and peered down at my bloody torso. Healed. But I hadn’t imagined the pain that felt like the hole had been cauterized and plugged with metal. I pressed harder. Had the weapon actually become part of me? I knew I hadn’t removed it.

  “Did you pull the knife out?”

  Chance, now studying me with equal parts fear and confusion, shook his head. “No, that’s too dangerous if you don’t have a med kit at hand.”

  I exhaled slowly and then spun in a circle. It wasn’t gone. I could feel it watching; sense its amusement. “What did you do?” I shouted.

  The earth rumbled, and its voice boomed like thunder, sending an awful chill down my spine. “Why, I healed you, darling child. It seemed a fitting tribute to your mother. But now you owe me a boon. I’ll see you soon, Corine. . . . You know my people never forget a debt. So long, and thanks for all the fear.”

  Darkness split in a white beam that made it seem as though lightning had hit nearby. Once my eyes adjusted, I could tell we were alone. We stood in a dark forest now, where fell a soft and natural rain.

  I owed my life to a demon? Owing Maury a favor would obligate me to any number of horrible things, and it didn’t matter that I hadn’t agreed to the terms. Unless I killed myself right now, I’d have to pay up because I was enjoying the extension of life it had provided. My mother had explained this kind of thing; it was called tacit acceptance. I sank to my knees, shaking.

  Chance pulled me upright, not understanding what had happened, but his determination to get us out of the woods hadn’t waned. I ran with him, feet sliding in the mud. His hand felt warm and firm on mine. He hadn’t left me; hadn’t given up, not even when I fell over with a knife in me.

  We ran until we broke from the trees to the quiet of the access road. When we reached the SUV, Jesse and Shannon were waiting.

  “Done?” Jesse asked. “Are you guys okay?”

  My instant recovery would cost a pretty penny down the road, but yes, I was. I didn’t want to talk about it. “I’m fine.”

  Chance donned a pair of driving gloves. “I’ll move their SUVs so it looks like they didn’t go missing right here. Maybe park them off road somewhere.”

  Jesse nodded. “Good idea. I’ll follow you, but not into the fields. We don’t want two sets of tire tracks.”

  I thought that plan might be overly cautious, but I didn’t want anyone asking questions later. As far as I was concerned, the sooner we left Kilmer now, the better. I kept seeing the shredded meat of England’s stomach. Jesus, I’d put a bullet in another human being. I suspected I might also set off metal detectors at the airport.

  The whole endeavor took half an hour, and then Chance wiped down the trucks quickly. I could tell by Saldana’s expression that he thought Chance was a former criminal, based on his ability to dispose of a vehicle like this, not to mention the smooth way he managed the hot-wire.

  Saldana drove us to the house, glancing at me every now and then in the rearview mirror. I knew I looked pale and shocky. After so much death, after a demonic intervention, I couldn’t appear otherwise.

  I’d done this. I’d wanted this. I hadn’t stopped until I accomplished it. And I’d set a demon loose in the world. My insides felt tied in knots.

  “The trucks were still there when we left,” Jesse told us.

  “That’s the official story.”

  “Got it,” Shannon said with a nod. “In one sense, it’s even true.”

  When we got back, we found that Dale had made soup. It gave the place a ridiculously homey smell. The crazy reporter seemed to like the farmhouse, where he wandered around describing every little thing as “cool” and “groovy.”

  I had a feeling he’d stay on after we left. It wasn’t like he had anywhere else to go, and he had a hell of a story to write, assuming they’d let him. The body count astounded me. Could I honestly say it had been worth it?

  Then I looked at Shannon, who might’ve been sacrificed in my stead. Yeah. On the whole, I’d do it again. She smiled at me, bare faced from the shower, full of trust and sweetness. Before we left town, we’d go looking for her dad. He deserved a good-bye.

  Butch ran up to me, yapping his discontent about being left behind. I ran my hand over his head and said shakily, “You wouldn’t have liked it, boy. You’d be as dirty as me if we’d taken you out there.”

  He yapped his agreement and followed me to the bathroom, where I tried to clean up without him. But the dog whined until I let him in. He hopped up on the lid of the toilet seat and stood guard while I bathed.

  I huddled in the shower until the water ran clear, washing away the traces of blood and mud. The ground had swallowed up the dead. I kept replaying the way it buckled under my feet. I wondered if the others had felt the tremor.

  The next few days we devoted to playing with Butch, letting Jesse recover, and tying up loose ends. Honest to God, the sheriff thanked me for finding the bodies. He didn’t say a word about new missing persons. Maybe their families hadn’t filed reports yet.

  Kilmer held a party in our honor. We ate lemon cake at the church and drank sweet tea. People seemed livelier, their spirits almost joyous. I think they knew they’d turned a corner. Now this was just a normal little dying town in the middle of nowhere—nothing spooky, nothing unholy.

  More people should start arriving. Tourists might even find the place charming now, a well-preserved slice of Americana. Missy England would take over when she realized her dad wasn’t coming home, and she’d probably do a better job. She seemed a smart young woman, even if she had slept with Curtis Farrell. Her brown eyes were sad and grave as she thanked us for our efforts. Maybe she already knew, deep down.

  On our last day there, we found Shannon’s father. Sandra had locked him in the cellar so that he wouldn’t interfere with her plans. She’d left him food and water, and the time to go quietly mad with grief and fear. Mr. Cheney hugged Shannon so tight, I thought he’d break her bones.

  “I’m sorry,” he wept. “I’m sorry. Months
ago, when I first suspected what was going on, I should have—”

  “Don’t worry.” Shannon managed a smile through her tears. “It’s okay. But you understand why I have to get away from here, right? I’ll write.”

  “I understand,” he said gravely, but his misery never lifted. I suspected he would always feel he’d failed her. “I’m leaving too. I can’t stay here. I’m sure I’ll be able to get work somewhere as a handyman.”

  That left them standing there, awkward, trying to figure out how they’d stay in touch when neither of them had cell phones—and they didn’t know where they’d end up—so I gave him my address in Mexico. “You can write to Shannon there. I’ll know where she is, if she doesn’t come to stay with me.”

  Mr. Cheney thanked me with an overbright smile. “I will never forget you for this. If you hadn’t come . . .”

  They’d have sacrificed her—and probably Sandra and Jim as well—on December 21. They would have tried to make good with the demon, even though they’d been failing each year I remained alive and well. I just nodded a “You’re welcome” as we headed out.

  We went back to the house to get our stuff. Before we left town, I called Chuch and Eva to let them know the job was done and everyone was more or less in one piece. To my amusement, Eva stole the phone from her husband and regaled me with anecdotes about her pregnancy. I marveled at the normalcy of it all and promised I’d come to her baby shower in a few months.

  “Yes, I’ll stop by on my way home,” I agreed.

  Then I rang Booke, who confirmed the black stain was gone from the astral. He could explore the place at his leisure now, but there didn’t appear to be anything unusual to see. I fancied I could almost feel him next to me, watching me, but that was ridiculous. He couldn’t go out of body and talk on the phone at the same time.

  “I’m so glad you’re safe,” he said quietly. “I just wish I could’ve done more.”

  “You did plenty. I’ll call you soon—and not just to ask for help.”

  I hung up and collected my things. Knapsack in hand, I took one last look at the farmhouse. We’d done good work here, almost like the old days. Except you can never go back. Thomas Wolfe was right when he said you can’t go home again. Nothing ever looked or felt the same. It was an appointment with disappointment.

  But now that we’d sorted things in Kilmer, there would be no putting Chance off any longer. His truce with Jesse was over, and I knew he was eager to hear how I felt.

  Well, here I stood, cursed and demon touched, and I didn’t want to see him broken over me. I didn’t want him to bear the weight of my death any more than I wanted to die.

  The cost was just too high.

  “You all set?” Chance had his duffel in hand, ready to load the trunk.

  He expected to take me home with him. My things were still there, just as I’d left them. To his mind, we could simply make the decision and start over. I could stroll back into the life I’d left behind.

  Just before she died, Mama had started telling me the rules of riding in cars with boys, as she understood them. I was twelve, and she thought I should learn about that kind of thing. Always leave with the boy you came with, she’d told me. It’s not polite otherwise.

  I knew that. Oh, I knew.

  But I couldn’t abide by the rules this time.

  “No,” I told Chance. “I’m going with Jesse and Shannon as far as Texas.”

  Eva had a passport waiting for me there. After visiting with them for a while, I’d take the bus to Monterrey. From there, I’d hop a flight to Mexico City. But he didn’t need to know my plans.

  “I don’t understand.” His face was stark and pale.

  “It just doesn’t make sense for you to drive me all the way back home when you’re so close to Florida now. That’s where you live, Chance. And it’s not where I live anymore. We’re going two separate ways now. It’s not fair of you to expect me to give up everything for you. I have a new life. I love my pawnshop. It’s not just what I do to pay the bills. I’ve finally found a place where I can use my gift quietly, turn a profit, and not suffer for it. You really want me to give that up for you? Would you give up your life in Tampa for me and move to Mexico City? Do you want this thing bad enough?”

  Maybe it wasn’t fair to ask him that, but it wasn’t only a matter of our conflicting geographic locations. There would always, always be the insurmountable matter of his gift. I didn’t want to be another victim to his luck, like the lover he refused to tell me much about. And I would never again sacrifice so much of what made me happy for a man. I’d found a core of steel inside myself, and it wouldn’t let me make so many compromises. Maybe it wasn’t fair, but he had to show me he’d follow me to the ends of the earth—or at least to Mexico City.

  “I can’t do that at the drop of a hat,” he protested. “There’s too much I need to be on hand to manage there.”

  “And yet you expect me to sell my shop for you,” I said.

  His hands clenched into fists, a muscle ticking beside his mouth. “Are you saying what I think you are?”

  Oh God, I didn’t want to be.

  I was.

  “Yeah,” I said softly. “I’m saying that. Tampa is where Min is, where the store is. Your mom’s waiting. She needs you. Keep the Mustang—you earned it. It’s a cherry car and Chuch would kill you if you sold it.”

  “He would.” His voice sounded odd and hollow. “That’s it, then. I . . . I’ll send your stuff. I know you’ll want your Travis McGee books for sure.”

  A knife twisted in my heart. Twist. I swore I could feel the blade lodged just so. That meant he’d accepted I wasn’t coming back; hence time for him to move on. I didn’t want to hear about him with someone else. Part of me would always love him, but I wasn’t going to let that part’s play-in-traffic attitude get me killed. Maybe one day he’d love me enough to change all the way, put his promises into actions, but that wasn’t now, and I wanted to go home.

  “You don’t have to.”

  “It’s no trouble.”

  I leaned in to hug him, but Chance stepped back. He didn’t want anything of me in parting, heartbreak burning in his eyes. When he climbed into the Mustang, I didn’t watch him drive away. Instead, I slithered into the backseat of Jesse’s SUV and drew my knees up to my chest. Butch popped out of my handbag and hopped onto the seat beside me, snuggling as if he knew I needed comfort.

  “You gonna live, sugar?” I heard warmth and concern in Jesse’s voice.

  Shannon didn’t know what had passed between Chance and me, but she took one look at my face and said, “Drive.”

  Clever girl. Couldn’t have said it better myself.

  I closed my eyes. I had a long way to go and miles of hard road before I got there.

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Ann Aguirre is a national bestselling author. She has a degree in English literature and a spotty résumé. Before she began writing full-time, she was a clown, a clerk, a voice actress, and a savior of stray kittens, not necessarily in that order. She grew up in a yellow house across from a corn-field, but now she lives in sunny Mexico with her husband, two children, two cats, and one very lazy dog. She likes books, emo music, action movies, and Dr. Who. You can visit her on the Web at www.annaguirre.com.

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