And that’s when I saw how many ghouls had decided to pay a visit to Life Anchor Bible Camp. They were everywhere; in the trees, atop all the buildings along the pathway leading to the lake—there had to be more than a hundred of the murderous little creeps.
“Can you help him, Charlotte,” Sparks asked between blasts from her Glock. I didn’t know how many rounds she had left, but she would run out of ammunition soon enough.
Charlotte turned around to face me. Her eyes looked to have been set ablaze from within as she knelt down in front of me and reached out with her bare hands to touch me. I scrambled back on my elbows as a surge of panic somehow cleared a mind made hazy from loss of blood.
“Stop moving, Mister R,” she said firmly as she placed both hands on my face. A jolt of energy the likes of which I’d never before encountered shot through my nervous system. Warmth caressed my skin as the fog in my mind began to clear. I could feel the gashes on my back and face and forearm begin to knit back together. My breathing became normal again and the copper tang of my host’s blood in my mouth disappeared.
Charlotte stepped back, her eyes returned to their normal colour and the energy she’d been emitting from her hands dissolved. The wall of fire diminished until there was nothing more than a fifty-meter long scorch mark on the frost-covered turf in front of the buildings and all around was the bodies and body parts from heaven-only-knows how many ghouls we’d managed to kill.
“You manifested a wall of fire, kid,” I said weakly. “I am convinced there’s a divine force living inside you. I think you’re an angel waiting to happen.”
“You said angels weren’t always the good guys,” she grimaced. “And I don’t think I can stop all of these creepers.”
I got back to my feet and gazed out at the carnage. There had to be at least thirty or more dead ghouls with bullet holes in their bodies thanks to Sparks sharpshooting. An extended line of still living ghouls stared at us from a hundred feet away and I knew there would be nothing I could do to stop them. If only I’d had that flaming gladius I used on Jael back at Lawrencetown Beach.
The ghouls started moving forward and I began blasting once more as Sparks and Charlotte raced to the SUV. Out of nowhere, I could hear the familiar beat of flapping wings and I looked up into the night sky to see two of the three angels who attacked me outside of Das Bunker. They broke into a sharp dive and lit up the line of ghouls with Holy fire. The monsters shrieked and raged in a symphony of horrifying voices, each calling out to the darkness as if it could save them from the pair of angels.
Charlotte screamed as one of the angels snatched her and took her skyward. Both Sparks and I spun around and took aim but the angel was moving too fast and there was the risk that we might hit Charlotte.
“COME AND FIGHT ME, YOU PRICKS!” I roared as I watched the pair of angels disappear from sight.
Charlotte was gone.
18
I had never felt so completely useless in the one hundred years since I crossed over into the human world. Ever since I found that damned blood coated angel’s feather stuffed in my mail slot earlier in the year, I had been dragged kicking and screaming into the world of heavenly politics, angelic possession, demonic scheming and more. I had the feeling that I was being used as a pawn for someone else’s dark purpose and I’d reached my fucking limit.
“Son of a bitch!” I bellowed. My voice echoed through the woods as the Holy fire died down. Sparks put an arm around my shoulder as she holstered her Glock.
“Angels are clearly the bad guys,” said Sparks. “I have no idea what to do next.”
I eyeballed the smouldering mass of ghouls the angels had lit ablaze. “We need answers,” I said in a voice dripping with menace. “And we’re going to check every one of these ghouls to see if any are still breathing.”
“If we find one?”
I narrowed my eyes as I marched toward what was left of the extended line of the monsters. “Then I’ll flay the skin off the bastard until it tells me what I need to know.”
“I’d rather just shoot them in the head,” said Sparks as she caught up with me.
“You can burn, bake, shoot, flay, fry, flambé or fricassee the slimy bastard if we find one.” I rumbled angrily. “This attack was a setup to get me out of the house and beat to shit enough that Charlotte would come out to help me. The two angels that took her are the same pair that survived the attack at Das Bunker. When I find out who orchestrated this attack, I’m going to use them for target practice.”
“You’ll get in line behind me,” said Sparks. “We need to find Charlotte fast.”
Sparks and I stepped carefully over the smouldering remains of dozens upon dozens of ghouls. We kept a sharp eye for any kind of movement and it didn’t take long to find a survivor of the angel’s wall of fire. A ghoul was still writhing in pain next to a scorched tree stump. I grabbed it by the ankle and proceeded to drag it back to the administration building.
“Sparks, there’s a toolbox on a shelf next to the bank of CCTV monitors,” I said with no shortage of disgust in my voice as I dropped the flesh-eating sack of shit into an office chair. Sparks lugged the large metal box over to the desk I was leaning on and lifted the lid. She grabbed a roll of duct tape and began taping the creature’s wrists and hands to the chair. Once she was satisfied that she’d used enough tape, the detective went to work lashing the creature’s ankles together.
“That should hold him,” she said as she dropped the duct tape. She started removing spanners, screwdrivers and two different sized hacksaws which she placed on the desk in a row as if they were some kind of macabre surgery kit.
The ghoul’s breathing was laboured. A thin line of blackish-grey drool hung from its thin lips and clung to its chest. Its charred skin smelled like rotting garbage. I found a salt shaker in one of the desk drawers. I pulled out my hunting knife from its sheath and then dug the blade into the partially burned skin on its chest. The ghoul shrieked and thrashed. It kicked up its feet to connect with me and Sparks ended that activity a thousand kinds of fast. She grabbed a five-pound steel mallet out of the toolbox and drove it into both its kneecaps with a loud bone splintering crack.
“MERCY!” it cried in a voice that was more feral than anything. “Mercy!”
I drove my fist into its face a couple of times and the ghoul’s head snapped back with each blow. “There ain’t no mercy for carrion feeders,” I hissed as I poured a handful of salt straight into the large gash I’d made on the monster’s bare chest. It cried out in the language of Hellions and those lower beings that inhabit the netherworld.
“We do work and must do work,” it spat. “We do what we are made to do.”
I grabbed the mallet from Sparks and drove it into the creature’s ribs with an audible crunch. “Who told you to come here, prick. Who organized this attack?”
It twisted and squirmed in the chair; its now useless legs dangling like dead flesh. “Cannot tell,” it said weakly. “Mercy … cannot tell.”
I slashed its chest again and threw on another handful of salt. “You’re just another demon and I can send you back to the dark place.”
“PLEASE!” it begged. “PLEASE, NO HELL. NO HELL FOR ME.”
Sparks leaned in close enough to the monster’s face that it could easily snap at her and tear one of her cheeks right off her skull. “Tell us who paid your kind to attack us and then tell us where those angels have taken the girl.”
“Church lady told!” the ghoul cried.
“Barbie Ross,” I growled. “I should have bloody well known that she’d try to weasel her way out of this debt. But if she doesn’t fulfil her obligation to the debt ledger ….”
“Church lady gave hiding place. She owes nothing,” the ghoul said, almost in a stupor from the beat down Sparks and I had laid on it.
Sparks threw me a frantic look. “Is that true, Reaper? She gave us a place to hide and then ratted us out? But to who?”
I snorted as I clipped the ghoul in the fac
e with the pistol grip of one of my Berettas. “Leave it to Barbie Ross to know how to play all the angles. She’s been doing that all her life, I bet.”
“But how would she have known to dispatch those angels to collect Charlotte? Wouldn’t she have been behind the attack at your bunker then?”
I nodded. “Maybe, possibly and who the fuck knows? For that to have happened she must have contacted the Halls of the Holy in some way, though I haven’t a clue how she did it. She has somehow managed to figure out that we took Charlotte but the question is who would have tipped her off? It couldn’t have been Dave Exner – we saw him after the attack at the bunker.”
“Abraxas,” said Sparks. “It has to be him. He possessed the social worker back at the house on Victoria Road. He has been after you all year.”
I drove my fist into the ghoul’s face again with a loud, meaty slap. “Alright, asshole. Is Abraxas behind everything that has happened?”
The ghoul shook its head vigorously. “I know nothing! I know nothing! I do what I am told!”
I stepped back from the chair and eyeballed the ghoul. “What is your name?”
“Mudstuffer. It is Mudstuffer!” it said frantically. “You see? You see? I give you my name freely. You now have power over me. Please, Mudstuffer begs you. Please do not send me back to the dark place.”
Sparks nudged me with an elbow. “What’s he talking about, Reaper?”
I lit up a cigarette and took a deep haul. “To know someone’s true name means that you have power over them. This sack of shit has volunteered his name to us to bargain his way out of a trip back to hell.”
“That sounds like bullshit to me, Reaper,” Sparks grunted.
“It’s not, trust me,” I said, turning my attention back to the ghoul. “I’m a grim reaper living in the human world. Nobody knows my true name outside of Ezekiel, the angel of Death and Transformation. If someone were to learn my true name, they could control me through any number of magical or ritual means. Mudstuffer here has given us the ghoul equivalent of a token of good faith.”
“How do you know he didn’t lie about his name? Isn’t that what demons do? Lie?”
I leaned forward and looked the creature in its bloodshot eyes. I placed my hand on its grease covered face and emitted the tiniest fragment of my essence into its mind. Instantly I was transported elsewhere through a myriad of scattershot images and sounds. Haunting wails filled my ears as I gazed out across a burning landscape of a city. Huge pillars of flame shot out of scorched towers set against a crimson sky. All around me were demons of every shape and description and alongside each demon was the ethereal visage of a damned human soul.
In the distance, I spotted a group of ghouls feasting on some dead thing that might or might not have been human once upon a time. In the middle of the fracas was Mudstuffer, who was in a tug of war with another ghoul over the bottom portion of a leg.
“This is Mudstuffer’s flesh!” the ghoul bellowed as he lashed at the other ghoul with his razor-sharp claws.”
“Mine!” roared the other ghoul. “This is Zeeble’s flesh!”
Overhead a leather-winged bird of prey that had to easily have been the size of a minivan dove at the pair of monsters. Its talons dug into the ghoul called Zeeble and as quickly as it had appeared, the bird-thing took to the burning sky. Mudstuffer’s thin lips arched up into a smile and he ran off with the leg.
I took a deep breath and opened my eyes as I severed my connection with the creature. “It’s his true name, Sparks,” I said, as sweat poured down my face. “He’s the real deal.”
She folded her arms and leaned back on a desk. “So, we’re not going to send him packing? What’s the good of him … wait.”
I blinked. “What?”
“Make him your Huggy Bear,” Sparks said flatly.
“What the hell is a Huggy Bear?”
Sparks rolled her eyes. “You’ve never watched 1970’s cop shows then. Huggy Bear is a snitch from the TV show Starsky and Hutch. An informant. Cops all over the world have informants and I don’t see why this … thing … can’t be the same for you.”
It made sense. Let the ghoul live in the human world and put him to work for me on the side. Of course, he’d never be able to walk down the street with razor sharp claws and leathery grey skin. He’d have to look the part.
“You’re a demon, Mudstuffer,” I said taking a threatening step forward. I placed the barrel of one of my Berettas against the creature’s temple and pressed hard. “Can you glamour?”
The ghoul nodded and shut its eyes tight. I felt a tingle of spectral energy as the ghoul’s face transformed into the face of an East Indian man. Mudstuffer blinked a few times and then shut his eyes again This time he appeared as a young woman with red hair and freckles on her face and neck.”
“Holy shit,” Sparks whispered.
I grunted. “There ain’t nothing holy about this asshole. Alright, Mudstuffer, you get to live another day. You will live among humans, but you will not feed on them. Ever. And by ever, I mean that you won’t feed on any human alive or dead, do you understand?”
“Mudstuffer understands, death-dealer,” he said while nodding at about eighty miles an hour. “Mudstuffer answers to you now. And the detective.”
Sparks raised a hand. “Leave me the hell out of it. But if I hear about any bodies going missing or any graves that have been vandalized, I will personally take a flamethrower to your slimy ass.”
“Now we’re talkin’!” I said easily. “Alright, Mudstuffer. You want to prove your worth to me and Sparks here?”
The creature continued nodding furiously.
“Then you’ll keep your ears open for anything relating to those two angels, Charlotte and Barbie Ross. Talk to your demonic brethren and see what you can learn. You have twelve hours.”
I handed the ghoul my cell phone.
“You are letting me stay?” the ghoul asked, sounding surprised the words had come out of his mouth.
“Yeah, you can stay. Get out there and help me find the girl. There is only one number programmed into the phone. You shit birds know how to work a cell phone?”
The creep continued nodding so hard and fast I thought its head would fly off its shoulders. “Church lady is smart,” the ghoul said. “Church lady is always smart.”
I glanced at my watch. It was half-past four in the morning. “You keep an ear out for where she might have gone to, you got it?”
“Yes,” it said, clutching my cell phone for dear life.
“You got here through a portal, yeah?”
Sparks choked. “A portal? What the hell are you talking about? Like a wormhole or something?”
“Shortcuts through the mortal plane,” I stated, turning my attention back to the ghoul. “Where does your portal come out?”
“Old warehouse in Burnside,” Mudstuffer said.
“Big enough for an SUV to get through?”
“Oh yes, big enough. Big enough for a school bus!” he said, clapping.
I glanced at Sparks and said, “Want to take a trip through the fabric of space and time? I promise it will be way better than getting a free ride in the arms of an angel, plus, you know, you get to go in your own car – it’ll be fun. Like the car wash!”
“Why should I expect anything else,” Sparks grumbled. “Let’s go.”
And with that, we raced to Sparks SUV and climbed in. The ghoul directed us down a small footpath to a spot right next to a lifeguard chair overlooking the lake. I hopped out of the SUV with Mudstuffer and he raised his hands to feel the familiar vibration of a portal waiting to be opened.
Portals exist everywhere. You’ve most likely passed by a portal more times than you’d probably be aware of. How can you know? It’s simple: anytime you experience deja-vu, that’s a portal messing with the timelines of everything nearby. They thrum like a heartbeat going full tilt and if you are sensitive enough, you can open one up. You’ll just need to know where you intend to go otherwise a portal cou
ld take you back to the Cretaceous period.
Usually, there is a keystone at either end of a portal to guide you through – it can be a rock or anything man-made that is strongly associated with the physical land surrounding where you intend to step out. And who would have given the ghouls something from Life Anchor Bible Camp to link with its anchor? Barbie Ross, naturally. Mudstuffer the Ghoul wasn’t lying about her involvement: particularly when the keystone that Mudstuffer pointed to on the beach next to the lifeguard chair was one of Barbie’s books from the girl’s dorm.
The ghoul drove two hands into the portal and his arms disappeared up to his elbows for effect. I motioned for Sparks to drive the SUV right to where we were standing and the look on her face told me that she was less than thrilled about driving her new and now damaged Toyota RAV-4 through a time/space fissure. Can’t say I blamed her, to be honest.
“And these things are everywhere,” Sparks said with a sour look on her face. “Like … a ghoul or some other nightmare creature I’ve yet to be introduced to can just appear out of thin air? That’s rather comforting … said no-one ever.”
“Trust me, Sparks,” I said, climbing into the passenger side. Mudstuffer hopped in the back seat behind me. “See, this is why I’ve long been an advocate for the legalization of marijuana. You need to be baked out of your mind when you finally understand the shit that goes bump in the night is real and sometimes it’s freaking hungry. Weed numbs the truth better than booze can. Plus, you know. Doritos.”
“So why aren’t you a hop-head?” she asked with a deliberately sly edge to her voice.
I waved a hand. “Not my bag. I’m a ciggy butt and whisky man. And beer, of course. Let’s do this.”
It was like passing through a curtain. One moment we were sitting inside Sparks’ SUV at Life Anchor Bible Camp and the next moment we were inside an abandoned warehouse. Sparks drove the SUV to a large roll-up door. I hopped out of the passenger side and quickly pulled the chain and raised the door until it was high enough for Sparks to drive through. She gunned the engine and a family of rats skittered across the dusty concrete floor. I climbed back in and soon we were heading up Burnside Drive. As we cruised up the road, I considered whether Barbie Ross would even be at her church because that’s where we were heading.
The Girl On Victoria Road: A Tim Reaper Novel Page 16