I almost mention my fear and worries to Aunt Kate, but one glance at her while she peers over the steering wheel with her dark hair falling out of its bun tells me she doesn’t need more to worry about.
But I wish I could tell her what I know and see.
We travel about twenty minutes when we turn a corner and see a dark shape laying across the road. Aunt Kate makes a strange noise in her throat like she’s keeping back a cry. We inch toward the shape. I can’t distinguish what it is.
Is that a leg I pointing at us? Please don’t let it be Ryan.
The plea echoes in my head, but I am not convinced who I’m talking to.
God?
He’s only around Sunday mornings in church. I’ve never seen Him around when bad things happened. All those prayers for the horror to stop, for help, for safety, never amounted to anything.
What would we do without Ryan out here? Could we go back to our life in Chicago?
We crawl forward. The shape materializes into something I recognize. Aunt Kate sighs.
“A tree,” she breathes.
She’s right. A tree with long, thick branches had broken off and fallen right in our way.
“That’s odd.” Aunt Kate slows and points to the trees on the side of the road. “See there? That’s where it broke off. It’s not a dead tree.”
I forget about the tree and stare at her.
How do you, a city girl and an art director, know this?
“Movies,” she shrugs.
She stops in front of the tree. “Come on. We’ll have to see if we can pull it out of the way.” She unlocks the door and takes off her seat belt. “Let’s get out.”
“Out?” I yell. “No, we can’t do that!”
“Why not? It’s just a tree, Nic,” Aunt Kate says. “We can’t drive around it, and we can’t go over it. We’ve got to move it.”
“It could be a trap,” I protest. I don’t know why, but the thought of being outside the truck makes it hard to breathe.
“Oh bother.” Aunt Kate snorts. “You’ve read too many books. Come on. Let’s go look to see if we can move it.”
She reaches for the door handle.
Chapter Eighteen
Look and See
Eli marched alongside the truck by Nic’s door and groaned quietly to himself. He had spent thousands of years in battle, but this experience of not being able to draw his sword and fight was sheer agony.
The instant he and Chasdiel stepped out of the trees and took their places on each side of the truck, the demons hissed with anger. Seeing no reaction from the angels, they drew their weapons and yelled in fury.
As the truck made its slow trek away from Florence, the demons grew bolder and the taunts grew louder.
“Scared to fight, weakling?”
“Too chicken to draw a sword?”
Eli gritted his teeth as his righteous anger rose. It wasn’t the name calling and insults that irritated him. He detested how they tormented Nic and how they oozed with evil. The desire to fight, to dispatch them to Hell, threatened to overtake him. Eli glanced at Chasdiel and saw the same struggle on his face.
But they had to obey their orders to wait until they were attacked, and he knew if he reached for his sword, they would be swarmed. There were too many demons, and the angels didn’t have the prayer support that they needed. They’d be torn to shreds, leaving Nic alone and helpless.
Once the truck was farther down the road, the demons would give up. Although the vile creatures were strong, when they drew closer to crowds of humans, their boldness ebbed. The faith and prayer of the humans, although weak, were enough to keep the demons at bay for a while.
“Perhaps we should make them look better,” a demon close to Eli snarled. He pushed off a tree and spread his wings to glide down in front of Eli. “This one could use a little help.”
The demon drew his sword and brandished his blade inches from Eli’s face.
Eli stared straight ahead, refusing to acknowledge the imp, even though it was taking everything he had to resist drawing his sword.
The cold steel flitted in front of his face until the demon gave up and withdrew.
“Too scared and weak,” he mocked. “Probably doesn’t know how to get the sword out of that sheath.”
Eli flinched as another large demon flew inches away from him. He felt the brush of the creature’s wings on his cheek. Before Eli could stop himself, his hand gripped the hilt of his sword. He forced his fingers to release the handle but kept his hand close.
“We’re the rulers here,” another demon sneered from the trees. “Leave before we tear you to bits!”
“And that boy,” a vile creature joined from above. “He belongs to our Master. It won’t be long now until he gets out of that truck, and we grab him.”
Eli’s sword was halfway out of the sheath before he could stop himself. Chasdiel shot him a look, questioning his control. Eli was asking the same thing.
Can I control myself until it’s time to fight?
He breathed a quick prayer for strength when the truck slowed to a stop in front of a tree on the road.
The demons cackled as they regarded the tree they had pushed in Nic’s path like it was a stroke of genius.
“We’re going to kill the aunt and then haul him to our Master.”
Chasdiel glanced at Eli. When their eyes met, Eli knew they were thinking the same thing. If the humans got out of the truck, it was going to be almost impossible to protect them.
Eli did the only thing he could think of. He leaned closer to the truck and spoke to Nic.
“Open your eyes, Nic. Now’s the time. Don’t be afraid of what you will see. God is with you. Look and notice the danger. This is the time to be strong and courageous.”
But he despaired when he saw Nic didn’t hear a word. Kate pushed the door open and swung her leg out when Nic reached for the door handle. This was going to end badly. If they stayed in the truck, it was much easier to protect them. Once they were outside, the demons would be able to grab Nic from any direction, making it impossible for Eli to guard him.
The demon closest to the truck inched forward, ready to snatch Nic as soon as he stepped out. A cry of glee rose up through the horde.
Before the boy could swing the door open, Eli shifted to lean against it. The winged creature next to the tall angel hissed and swung wildly at him, trying to get Eli to move. Eli flinched. The demons roared when they saw he blocked Nic’s way. The fury in the evil creatures threatened to overwhelm the angel.
The hordes of demons surrounded them, poised for attack, their long, dark wings spread, ready to fly down to the truck from the trees. In their scarred hands, they flaunted their drawn swords, ready to slice and send the angels to the Creator.
And so it begins.
Chapter Nineteen
Traps
I stare at the blocked road. The tree is almost across the whole road. Without moving it, no one can get to us, and we can’t leave. I don’t want to get out, but I want to leave. Aunt Kate moves to get out of the truck.
I grab my door handle, not daring to look up at the trees where I know the demons are, and push against the door. It doesn’t open.
Stupid locks.
I hit the unlock button, but the door still refuses to open. I push on it as hard as I can. It doesn’t budge. Irritated, I glance around. The demons are flying down from the treetops and landing on the road around us.
Don’t look at them, and they won’t look at you.
I repeat the words in my head. I’ve survived years like this. I push on the door again, but it feels like someone is on the other side, holding it shut.
Before I can say anything to Aunt Kate, the darkness takes over and all the color drains from the world...
A sharp blast slams through my body. A scream pierces my ears...
I shake my head to clear the churning darkness. The tops of the trees are swaying back and forth, even though it’s not windy. The evil creatures gather clo
se to us. Their deformed faces twist into confident sneers as they sit on the trees, watching us. Watching me. Evil radiates from them. Their large talons clutch into the bark of the trees.
“Wait!” I yell at her.
Aunt Kate stops. “Nic, what’s wrong? We have to move the tree to get out of here. There’s something’s weird about this place.”
“I know,” I admit. “But it’s a trap. Whoever set it up wants us to get out. I’ve seen something like this before.”
I never hear her reply. The darkness seizes control of my brain, and my memory plays like a movie I can’t shut off...
The cold, metallic barrel of the pistol is pointing at Brandon in the desk next to me. I hear the blast. A scream blends with the ringing in my ears. The gunman ignores me for now.
Brandon is screaming as blood pools up around him on the tile floor and flows toward me. Kyle leaps over the barricade of chairs and dashes to Brandon.
Another blast.
Kyle falls just short of Brandon and doesn’t move anymore. Brandon screams louder and tries to reach Kyle, but he is too hurt to move. Matt is the next to leave safety in a valiant attempt to save Brandon.
Another blast.
Matt is gone. His body lies on the floor, but he is forever gone.
I watch the blood pool around them and cover the floor. The gunman set Brandon up as bait. We could watch him die a slow death, or we could die trying to save him.
Red flows across the white tile floor. Over the screams, laughter begins. I look up from behind my desk. A shadow on the wall slowly morphs into a demon with long wings...
“Nic!” Aunt Kate yells. “Nic! Are you okay?”
I jerk back to the present. Aunt Kate has her hand on the door, but her face is creased with worry. I’m still in my seat with the belt on. A wave of sweet relief washes over me as I realize I didn’t move. The darkness didn’t take over completely. This time.
Did I lose it that night they say I was sleepwalking? Would I have hurt Aunt Kate and Ryan?
But it didn’t happen today.
“I’m fine,” I say weakly. I have no energy, feeling drained like I ran fifty miles. “Don’t get out. They’ll attack while we try to move the tree. Please.”
Aunt Kate doesn’t ask who they are or question the tremble in my voice. She doesn’t ask what happened, why I think it’s a trap, or who is waiting to attack. She pulls in her leg and shuts the door. Then she puts on her seatbelt again.
Thank you, Aunt Kate, for trusting me.
“What do we do?” she asks. “I’m not staying here.”
The memory of that day is still in my head, not buried deep down where I like it to be. It’s too fresh and raw, and I most certainly don’t want to be here when it gets dark and the demons rule the night. They pause, scattered on the road, waiting for us to make a move.
They’re waiting. They think they have us.
I stare at the tree in front of us. “Go around.” I point to her side of the road, ignoring the bumps we will have to get over. “We can make it.”
“Nic, I am not going to drive off the road in this thing,” Aunt Kate protests.
“It’s made to go off road, Aunt Kate. It’s a truck.” I roll my eyes. “Ryan drove it across the meadow at Florence.”
“What about the Carrolls?” She points behind us.
“They’ll make it. Going around, even if we break something, is better than getting out.”
She sighs like she’s not happy and puts the truck in gear. I twist in my seat and motion to Joe to go around. He waves like he understands.
We bump off the road. The bottom of the truck scrapes on the dirt. Aunt Kate lets out a little yell but pulls the truck onto the smooth grass alongside the road. I study the tree in the road when we drive by it.
Am I being silly?
There’s a movement in the corner of my eye. Branches from the tree we are passing whip back like something leaped into flight. There was something close to my door. I twist to look and see a large demon fly away with a roar of anger.
It hid in the tree! Why can’t they leave me alone? What do they want? I just want to live a normal life like everyone else!
As we bump back onto the road, I watch Joe maneuver around the tree and breathe a sigh of relief that he didn’t try to get out. Maybe Megan had a hand in that.
I can’t resist trying the door again. I make sure it’s unlocked and pull on the handle. It opens as easily as cream cheese slides across a warm bagel.
I close it with a grin. Something, someone, was looking out for me. I know that door was blocked.
But who was it?
We don’t talk after that. Aunt Kate works up her courage to put the truck into third. We don’t mention Ryan. We don’t talk about what might have happened. And we most definitely don’t talk about my memories.
It’s better this way.
For the first time ever, I have to wonder if there’s more out there I don’t see. Perhaps there are angels to protect us from the demons. The idea of something watching over me that can fight demons makes me feel safer.
I start thinking we might make it home without any more incidents when we turn the corner. Then I see why Ryan had to go to work.
* * *
Eli stayed close to Nic’s door as the truck eased off the road and past the fallen tree. Nic hadn’t seen the large demon in the tree yet, but the angel could. The massive demon hissed when Eli came near.
The angel couldn’t hold back anymore. The demons may threaten him, but they weren’t going to touch Nic while he protected the boy.
Eli lunged at the demon, drawing his sword that sparked with white flames. The vile creature leaped back, alarmed at Eli’s fierceness, and flew to the treetops.
“What are you doing?” Chasdiel scolded from the other side of the truck. The stress of holding back their weapons while being surrounded by so many of the enemy showed all over his face.
Eli sheathed his sword with a force. “Protecting my charge until the day I can fight no longer. No one is going to hurt him on my watch.”
* * *
I wince as I catch my first glimpse of the crime scene. Aunt Kate sees it as soon as I do and hits the breaks to slow down to first gear. She stops beside some Forestry trucks.
Through a haze of smoke, there is the shell of the camper. A few of the Forestry guys are monitoring a fire that is dying out slowly. It creates a barrier, separating the road from the horror that happened.
I gasp when I realize this is the place we saw yesterday where the people parked their camper overlooking the canyon. I can remember Ryan expressing envy over their good location. The older couple was already settled down, enjoying the peaceful view. I hope they enjoyed those last moments.
The camper is torn to shreds. Long strips of metal that look like confetti are scattered around the ground. Pieces of blankets, pillows, and dishes litter the area to the edge of the road. Their truck is impaled with pieces of the camper.
Ryan is standing on the far side of the wreckage, looking over the cliff. He glances up when he hears our vehicles and leaves the man next to him to come over us.
He stands at my window and blocks the site from view. I roll down the window and notice his face is white, and his hands are shaking a bit.
“You guys okay?” he asks.
“Yep,” Aunt Kate says shortly. “But this truck is a boat–not the speed kind, the barge kind.”
Why are you talking about that now? So we don’t have to talk about the scene in front of us?
“What happened?” I try to see around him.
Ryan shakes his head. “Some of the guys think that it’s the same thing that was over on the Lolo Pass, but it’s too far away in my opinion.” He stops like he thinks he’s said too much. “I better get back. Let me talk to Joe for a second. Look straight ahead. We can’t cover up the bodies until the police get here. Then get home and lock the doors. I love you.”
We both say we love him, too, and Aunt Kate pul
ls forward, jerking the truck only once. She passes the scene without looking as Ryan said to do, but I can’t help staring as we pass the bodies.
The man is farther away from us, so I can’t see him as well. The woman is lying parallel to the road. Something’s missing. I just can’t figure it out it is.
We pass the woman’s body. Mom’s body flashes in front of me without any warning. I squeeze my eyes shut to hide from the memory, but all I see is a giant puddle of blood.
Blood! Where’s the blood?
There’s just a splash of it on the woman’s body. I glance back to Ryan and examine the site until we round a corner. While everything is wrecked, there’s little blood anywhere.
What animal takes the blood and leaves the body?
We leave the scene of destruction and horror behind us, but I know. I know what hunts at night in these hills. Goosebumps with a slight chill rise on my arms as I reach over and lock the doors, even though that won’t stop the monsters.
Chapter Twenty
A Mouse
We don’t talk the rest of the way home. I suppose some people might speculate about who or what could have done such a thing. But there are so many things we don’t talk about. There’s just no point to some conversations.
The question why doesn’t have an answer. The question how only shows us the evil around us is far deeper and more dreadful than we want to know. Who doesn’t ease our horror. It often increases it because we find out the people doing the horrible acts are often people like us.
We inch to the side of the road as sirens draw near. Two police cars race past us heading to the crime scene with their lights flashing.
Aunt Kate breaks the quiet. “I wonder if Ryan will be much longer once the police arrive.”
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