“What does it sound like to you,” asked Johann.
“Sounds, to me,” Durling said, as he began to glance around the room, “It sounds like a group of little children singing 'Ring Around the Rosy.' ”
“Yep,” Johann said, “That's what I hear, too.” He glanced at the coroner and made a gesture, pointing toward the refrigerators.
The two approached the body storage area; Johann was holding his flask of holy water at the ready, and Robert was clutching the cross. The closer they came to the units, the louder the singing was. The song repeated itself over and over as though it were taunting the two men. The hair on the back of Johann's neck stood up from the tension. The sound of the singing gave him mental images of children playing in a playground and singing. But, he knew the only children in this room were all deceased, and this caused his pulse to quicken, and his heart to pound in his chest.
Without warning, several of the refrigerator doors opened and the body trays slid out. This caused Robert and Johann to stop in their tracks and stare in disbelief. In front of them were four little corpses, standing up. They were singing, in unison, the “Ring Around the Rosy” nursery rhyme as living children would do. They were holding their arms outstretched as though trying to hold hands, and bounced up and down as though trying to dance together in a circle.
“The son of a bitch is still here,” Johann said, as he quickly looked around the room. Durling nodded in agreement and again held the cross up in front of himself; his hands were trembling, and sweat was beading on his brow. He stood with his legs as close together as possible, for fear he would urinate in his pants.
“Come on out and fight, you coward,” Johann said.
“Johann, don't,” Robert whispered. Johann glanced at him, surprised at his apparent unwillingness to face the demon. Robert glanced back at Johann, almost apologetically.
“You're more used to doing this stuff than I am,” Robert said, explaining himself.
In answer to Johann's command, several extremely sharp instruments levitated off a table and flew toward the two men. Johann spotted the approaching projectiles at the last second and surveyed the room for something to use for cover.
“Look out,” he shouted, as he ducked for cover under a gurney, which caused Robert to do likewise. The sharp missiles flew by the two, most of them missing by mere centimeters. One, a very sharp scalpel, made contact with Robert's hand, and cut the coroner.
“Damn it,” the coroner said, as his crimson red blood dripped on the floor from the small gash on the back of his hand. He grabbed the sheet off the gurney he was under and ripped a piece off to wrap around his injured appendage. The two men were now each under separate stretchers, a few feet apart.
“You okay Bob,” Johann asked.
“Yeah,” Bob answered, “But damn it, does that hurt. We gotta get out of here.”
“No shit.”
While the two contemplated their next move, more and more instruments began to fly around. Almost as though a tornado had invaded the room. All the while, the deceased infants kept singing the song. Louder and louder they sang, with each chorus. The air in the morgue filled with so many projectiles flying about; the danger was too high for the men to leave the relative safety of their hiding places.
Metal items crashed into the walls. Glass beakers and bottles with fluids like formaldehyde would shatter and explode. The noise from all the destruction here was growing louder by the moment. Robert became worried someone might happen by in the hallway. He was afraid that, if they were to discover all the ruckus, they would come to investigate. As though in answer to their plight, this time, when the song got to the part “Ashes, ashes, we all fall down,” everything in the air came crashing down to the floor with a thunderous sound. The four little corpses remained standing, and the sound of children laughing replaced the song.
“Now,” Johann shouted, seeing their chance, “Go, go, go.” The two quickly emerged from under the gurneys and ran as fast as they could for the door. All the while, the sound of the child laughter rang in their ears and haunted their thoughts. Now, it became so loud in their heads, as to be almost maddening.
“This way,” the coroner yelled as they exited the morgue, “We need to go out the way you came in so we can leave inconspicuously. I don't want to have to explain if anyone heard all that. Just make sure we walk and don't look up at the cameras, in case they're on. We certainly don't want to attract any undue attention.”
“Good idea,” Johann said.
The two men escaped into the now darkened parking lot and began running. Robert led the way to the waiting minivan.
“You run pretty fast for a chubby guy,” Johann said, while he struggled to keep pace with the rotund coroner.
“And you have quite the mouth for a priest,” said Robert, almost out of breath.
“Former priest,” Johann said. They finally reached the parked minivan and quickly got on board.
“I'm getting too old for this,” Robert said, as he tried to catch his breath.
“If you're going to partner with me, you better get used to it,” replied Johann, “We're going to be doing a lot of running, jumping… All sorts of fun stuff.” Robert glanced at him, almost as though getting second thoughts about his decision to help Johann hunt demons.
They sat together in the vehicle for a few moments, to catch their breath. Robert knew they had to get out of there as fast as they could, but the sweat on his glasses made it hard for him to see. The coroner quickly removed his glasses from his face and cleaned the lenses of the sweat which had accumulated on them He put his spectacles back on and handed the cleaning cloth to Johann so he could do the same with his glasses. As Johann cleaned his glasses, Robert started the car, and they left the hospital grounds.
“You okay to drive,” Johann asked, as he put his glasses back on and glanced at Robert's wounded hand.
“Yeah,” answered the coroner, “I'll be okay. Just hurts like a son of a bitch.”
“That's a good amount of blood,” Johann said, noticing the large red area on the otherwise white cloth.
“That's alright. I'll make more,” Robert said, trying to put a little levity into the situation.
“Just be careful of your speed. We don't want any cops right now,” Johann said, realizing they were traveling a little faster than they should have been.
Robert glanced down at his speedometer. He was driving seventy miles an hour, and they were in a forty mile an hour zone. The coroner lifted his foot off the gas pedal to slow down. He glanced at Johann and smiled nervously, sweat made the skin on his face shine.
“That would have been a problem,” Robert said,
Johann covered his face with his hands, then brought them down as people do when they are tired.
“What the Hell was that,” he said, “I mean, what the Hell was that? Dead babies are singing 'Ring Around the Rosy,' things flying in the air, trying to kill us. I mean, what the fuck was that?”
“We're getting too close,” Robert said. “We're getting too close, and the demon's getting scared.”
“No. You can't scare a demon.”
“Then, why would the beast do that,” Robert asked.
“I don't know. But I do know what it wasn't,” Johann said, looking at Robert, “That thing wasn't Abyzou. She only kills infants., and that thing was trying to kill us.”
“Then who was it, if it wasn't Abyzou,” asked the coroner.
“I don't know. Maybe the bastard that has my sister. Something bigger is going on here. I just wish I could find out what.”
A pair of bright, circular headlights appeared in the rear-view mirror and grabbed Robert's attention. They seemed to come from nowhere, and they were gaining on the minivan, very quickly.
“I think we're about to become reunited with our friend from the hospital,” Robert said, as he stared in the mirror and pressed down on the gas pedal.
Johann turned around and got a glimpse of the headlights. He recognized the
m instantly as belonging to a Dodge Challenger. He reached for his seatbelt and pulled the strap across his body.
“Better buckle up,” Johann said. Robert put his seatbelt on, too. Johann kept vigil in the side view mirror as the headlights grew ever closer.
“Guess I'm going to find out,” he whispered, mostly to himself.
“Find out what,” Robert asked.
“I'll tell you later,” Johann said, while he braced for an impact, “If we live.”
Robert glanced over at Johann, confused. At that moment, the oncoming vehicle made contact with their rear bumper. The impact was hard enough to push the minivan forward, which caused the tires screech slightly and the occupants lurch back in their seats. The engine of the attacking car roared as the vehicle tried to push the minivan off the road.
“Can't this thing go any faster,” Johann yelled.
“What do you want,” Robert shouted back, “It's only a God damned minivan.”
Robert struggled to retain control of the vehicle as the car behind them remounted the attack. This time, it lifted the rear tires slightly off the road and dropped the minivan back down again. The van swerved to the right, and rebounded quickly to the left as the coroner fought with the steering wheel, and sawed his hands back and forth. Johann sat quietly in his seat, and tried to remain as calm as possible while he was tossed from side to side. He reached up and brushed his hair back, to keep his mane from getting into his eyes. One thing he hated was when his hair got in his eyes and blocked his vision.
“I gotta remember to get my hair cut when this is over,” he said. Robert glanced at him, apparently caught off guard by the remark.
“I think we have bigger problems right now,” the coroner said.
The Challenger allowed a little space to grow between the two vehicles, before it started to move to the left of the minivan. The car drove into the side of the Caravan as it reached the rear tire. This caused the vehicle containing the two demon fighters to slide and fishtail out of control.
“Hold on,” Robert shouted, as he steered into the slide and the vehicle did a complete three-sixty spin and continued forward, in the direction they were originally heading. As this was happening, the black Challenger disappeared into the night.
“Thank God that's over,” Robert said, relieved. The passenger compartment filled with the pungent aroma of burned rubber as tire smoke seeped in and filled the air. Robert and Johann rolled down their windows in an attempt to let the smoke escape.
“It ain't over yet,” Johann said, stiffening in his seat. He was watching a pair of bright headlights approach them at a high rate of speed. “It's gonna try to ram us,”
Robert tensed as the lights drew closer and closer. They were about to pass, when the oncoming vehicle swerved into their lane. The coroner tugged hard on the wheel, turning the car to the right. At the same time, he slammed his foot down on the brake.
The assaulted minivan careened off the road and onto a dirt shoulder. The vehicle scraped along a fence and sideswiped a tree, which knocked off the right-side mirror, and sent shattered glass into the minivan. Johann, able to see this coming, closed his eyes and turned his head away, so the glass didn't hit his face. The sound of the headlights breaking and small branches torturing the metal skin of the van caused Robert to wince as though in pain. With a loud explosion; the right rear tire blew out, and the vehicle, as though showing mercy, slid to a stop.
Robert and Johann waited a few moments before they emerged from the wrecked minivan to check out the damage. A trail of rubber and small pieces of metal and glass offered evidence of the attack. On the ground, a few feet behind the car, were some parts from the side of the vehicle which blew off when the tire exploded. The centrifugal force of the forward motion of the vehicle caused them to continue forward after leaving the Caravan. The two men looked up and down the road, but found no sign of the attacking car or, thankfully, any car for that matter.
They both leaned up against the vehicle to recuperate. Sweat made their skin glisten in the moonlight, and they both breathed heavy. Johann could hear his heart as it pounded in his chest. Robert, on the other hand, was actually a little surprised that he, himself, wasn't having a heart attack.
Johann wiped some sweat from his forehead.
“Christ, I thought it was gonna get us that time,” he said.
“You, and me, both,” answered Robert.
The air was still and the night was eerily quiet. The only sounds were the leaves rustling in the slight breeze, crickets, and an owl somewhere in the distance. The fragrance of honeysuckles was in the air, and the floral scent mingled with the odor of hot brakes and tire smoke.
“Well,” Robert said, “We're only about a half mile or so from my place. I suggest we get back in the van and limp home. Better that, than to leave this thing here and have the cops find it and ask questions.” Robert took a cigarette out of the pack in his pocket and lit it up, his hands were noticeably trembling.
“By the way,” Robert said, as he took a puff on his cigarette, “What was it you were going to find out?”
“Oh, that,” answered Johann, “I was wondering last night what would happen if I let that car hit me. Father Tuttle told me the car was a phantom, so I was wondering if the son of a bitch would hit me like any other car or only pass through me, like a phantom.” He ran his hands over the dents on the bumper where the Challenger made the first contact, “I guess I have my answer.”
Robert finished his cigarette and stamped the butt out on the ground. The two demon fighters re-boarded the beat-up minivan and proceeded to drive, albeit very slowly, back to the perceived safety of Robert's house. When they made it back, Robert parked the damaged minivan on the side of the house where it couldn't easily be spotted from the road. Well out of the way of prying eyes.
-12-
Robert led the way, and the two walked into the living room in Robert's house and collapsed, exhausted, on the couch. Johann got up and walked to the kitchen.
“Want a beer,” he asked as he opened the refrigerator door.
“Sure,” Robert answered, “After what we just went through, I need one.”
Johann returned to the living room carrying the two cans. He handed one to Robert and sat on the couch next to him.
“What a damned night this has been, huh,” he said.
“I thought for sure we were goners,” answered Robert.
“I thought so, too, at first,” Johann said, taking a sip of his beverage. Robert glanced at him with a quizzical expression.
“What do you mean?”
“What I mean is,” Johann answered, as he placed his beer on the coffee table in front of them, “If the demon wanted us dead, believe me…we would be dead. If one of those monsters wants to kill someone, it doesn't merely 'try' to kill them, it does it. While it was happening, I thought it was going to kill us, but once it was over, and we were still alive, I knew it wasn't.”
The two men sat together quietly on the sofa for a few moments. Both were thinking their own thoughts and trying to analyze all which had happened today. Robert turned on the television, and they both watched the news. After the station came back from commercial break, the first news story was about the infant deaths in Bucktown.
“Tonight, we have another update on the Bucktown story,” the news anchor reported, “Belinda is again in Bucktown with that update. Belinda.” The picture switched to the female reporter. Standing next to her was a man in a black suit.
“Thank you, Simon,” Belinda said, “With me now is David Merrill, an inspector with the Centers for Disease Control in Atlanta Georgia. Mister Merrill, have you found out anything as yet?”
“What we have found so far,” the man said, as he spoke slowly, with a distinct southern drawl, “Is that we seem to be dealing with an unusually high incidence of Sudden Infant Death Syndrome in this town. Unfortunately, or perhaps I should say, 'fortunately,' we have not yet been able to determine if any particular disease or virus is re
sponsible for the basis of the incidence.”
“So, would we be safe to say your investigation is still ongoing,” asked the reporter.
“Well, yes, of course, the investigation is still in progress. We will keep searching until we arrive at the conclusion of whatever is happening here in this town.”
“Well, there you have it,” Belinda said, while looking straight at the camera lens, “The investigation is still ongoing here in Bucktown. Back to you, Simon.”
“What a dumbass,” Johann said, disgusted, “How can they not see what's happening?”
“They're not as close to it as we are,” Robert said. Johann looked at him for a moment, not sure what he meant by that.
“You have to remember,” Robert said, “We have experience with these things. They don't. You tell the average person a demon is doing this and he'll either say you're a fool or just outright laugh at you.”
Johann glanced away for a moment. He didn't want to admit to himself, but he realized his new friend was right. Most people these days didn't believe in demons and such. They only tended to chalk things like this up to bad luck, or coincidence. But demons? Most people would tell you they don't exist. They're the stuff of television shows and horror movies. Real life has no place for them.
“You know,” Johann said, “The morgue was a mess when we left.”
“I know,” answered Robert, “I have no idea how I'm going to explain what happened in the morning. Someone is going to find the mess, even if the one who finds it is only the night cleaning crew. I better come up with something to tell Miss Olson when she calls me into her office tomorrow.”
Johann glanced away for a moment. Robert sensed something deeply troubled his new friend.
“What's wrong,” asked the coroner.
“I had a dream last night,” said Johann, as he returned his gaze to his friend, “A really weird one. It started with my sister Theresa. I dreamed she was standing in the room with me. All of a sudden, she turns into this demon or something, and the room disappeared. Then, while I was fighting with the monster, she reappeared. We touched hands and when I was trying to pull her away -,” he stopped abruptly, as he remembered the part about his sister being impaled.
The Bucktown Babies Page 9