The Incubus, Succubus and Son of Perdition Box Set: The Len du Randt Bundle

by Len du Randt

  Malcolm slammed the cell phone down hard on the table and stared vacantly at the window for a moment. Benny the Fist, he thought. When he personally goes out for a hit, it must be serious.

  His thoughts were distracted by the distant rumble of thunder. Rain was coming.

  - - -* * *- - -

  ‘Yes?’

  Pause.

  ‘How much?’

  Pause.

  ‘Double that and we have a deal.’

  Pause.

  ‘When do you want it done?’

  Pause.

  ‘I understand.’

  Benny replaced the handset and used the remote control of his stereo to turn up the volume of the opera music flowing from the speakers to its maximum capacity. He listened to the music in the dark, the only source of light being the occasional flash of lightning. He waved his remote through the air as if he was the conductor of this orchestra. The music reached its pinnacle, and ended with the loud explosion of cymbals clashing together in perfect sync with the clap of thunder outside. Benny slumped back into his chair, breathing heavily. Mentally, he was ready for the task that lay ahead. He had heard about these two men that were ruffling some feathers in the Holy City, and what they had allegedly done to an elite military unit. He wanted to prepare ahead for this project. He didn’t like to take any unnecessary risks, and wasn’t planning on starting now.

  - - -* * *- - -

  Benny locked the front door to his house. He switched off all the lights when he left at night, except for the porch light. The rain was pounding the Earth hard, and he was going to get soaked no matter how fast he ran. He considered his options: take the heavy suitcase that contained his equipment and make a dash for the car, or get the car first, bring it in as close as possible, and then hop out and get the case.

  He decided to go for the second option.

  The rain had an ominous essence about it, but Benny couldn’t put his finger on exactly what about it made him feel uneasy. Something about it just didn’t feel right. He removed his glove and stuck out his hand. The rain was surprisingly warm against his skin, but it was only when he pulled his hand back from the drizzle that he knew that something was amiss.

  His hand was a different colour; almost black in the weak light. He rubbed his fingers together and noticed that his hand had been covered by a strange, oily substance. He raised his fingers to his nose and gently sniffed. The smell was rotten, like a decomposing carcass, and he instantly realized what the liquid was that most of his arm had been covered in.

  He looked around the porch to where he could see some of the rain spatter in the dim light, and sure enough, there were traces of blood everywhere. He looked at his car and hesitated. He had never abandoned a call before, and had no intention of doing so now. He flipped open his cell phone and selected an entry from his contacts.

  ‘It’s me,’ he said when the contact at the other end picked up. ‘Have you seen it?’

  The other party confirmed.

  ‘I’m going to try and do it tonight; if not, you’ll hear from me first thing tomorrow morning. Either way, I want triple the price we agreed upon. Is that understood?’

  There was some hesitation from the other end, and then confirmation.

  Benny snapped his phone shut and sealed it inside his jacket pocket. He looked at the spatter one more time, and then dashed for his car. It didn’t feel like he was running in rain, more like lukewarm soup. He was about halfway to his car when his foot slipped on a wet patch of grass and he slammed down, face first into the blood-drenched Earth. Benny cursed and smashed his fist down on the ground. He got up, but as he was about to take the next step, he went down again. Benny screamed. He stood up again, and this time made sure that he got his footing right before moving forward. ‘If you two are responsible for this,’ he shouted, ‘I’ll kill you in the worst possible way!’

  He was answered with a flash of lightning and the instant rumble of thunder.

  ‘Oh,’ he growled through clenched teeth, ‘you’re going to pay indeed.’

  - - -* * *- - -

  The inside of his car was a welcome shelter from the rain. He didn’t worry about the leather interior being ruined anymore. The payoff would ensure him a new car of the same superb quality. What did annoy him was the slippery nature of his keys. It slipped as he was about to stick it into the ignition, and he let out a loud curse again. They had better pay him for this mess, or he would eliminate them all.

  He finally started the car and slowly turned it toward his porch. He wanted to use the windshield wipers, but realized that it wouldn’t be such a great idea, especially with the oily nature of the blood.

  When he almost reached the porch, the car sputtered and jerked, then died with a hiss. He tried the ignition again, but the only response he received was an effortless whine. He popped the hood and swore again as he got out into the downpour. Benny lifted the bonnet, and although there was very little that he could see, he generally knew where to locate certain features of the engine. He opened the water tank and confirmed his suspicions. Blood.

  Benny screamed again and then scrambled back to the porch where he slammed his fist against his front door. How is this possible? He unlocked the door and entered the dark house, fumbling in the dark for the light switch. When he found it, he started up the stairs toward the main bathroom. His shoes made a sickening ripping sound as it tore from the carpet with each step that he made, and he kicked them off as he removed his clothing. The blood dried quickly and almost instantly changed from oily to sticky. He needed a shower, badly.

  ‘You’ll both pay,’ he growled again as he turned the shower taps. A gurgling sound made him step back instinctively, and then a sense of fear and disbelief gripped him as the red liquid spurted from the shower head. He turned off the shower and tried the bathtub, but again, water wasn’t the content that left the taps. ‘Why?’ he screamed and smashed the medicine cabinet with his fist. ‘Why are you doing this to me?’

  He desperately searched the house for any traces of water, but when he found none, he finally admitted defeat and fell down to the floor in a foetal position, crying like a little boy who was being harshly beaten by an abusive father.

  - - -* * *- - -

  A continent away, both Trevor and René were glued in front of the television with their Macaroni and Cheese dinners. They were expectantly waiting for the documentary about the ‘Shield of Victor,’ and both were equally curious to find out exactly what it was. Finally, a voice boomed over the speakers:

  ‘Are you tired of waiting in queues? Is it a bother to carry your smart card with you everywhere? Can you imagine touring in a foreign country and lose your card, or have it stolen?’

  ‘This is not a documentary,’ Trevor said disgusted. ‘It’s a stupid infomercial!’

  René shushed him. She was intrigued and wanted to know more about the Shield.

  ‘Cash has become obsolete,’ the voice on the television informed them. ‘Soon, using it—no matter in which country in the world—would only get you taxed, causing you to pay up to five times more than you normally would have. So what option does a low to medium income person have in times like these?’

  ‘Any points for guessing right?’ Trevor asked with just a hint of sarcasm in his voice.

  ‘You need The Shield of Victor! It’s the only protection for you and your family against an unsure and unstable financial future.’

  On the television, a busty blonde woman casually walked into a grocery store, packed a basket with some random items, and then headed for the till. Only there was no one at the till. Instead, there was a mechanical archway that she had to pass through. Trevor noted that the archway looked like a futuristic Airport metal detector.

  ‘Hey,’ René said and sat up. ‘That’s one of those thingies that we saw today!’

  ‘It’s a Shield Line,’ Trevor reminded her.

  The woman on the television proceeded to the Shield Line and passed through it. She then walked righ
t out of the store, and straight to her car. The infomercial voiceover boomed again. ‘What you just witnessed was a customer using the new Shield of Victor technology. What is this amazing technology that enabled this client to just walk out of the store without any delay or human interaction of any kind?’

  Trevor sat up. The infomercial was busy working its magic on him.

  The woman stood at attention and the camera zoomed to her face until her entire face was splashed all over Trevor’s television. The camera then panned to her forehead, and zoomed in even more. Just below her hairline, a small purple circle with a Y in it came into view. The narrator returned. ‘The Shield of Victor is the latest miracle in molecular Nanotechnology, and uses sophisticated state-of-the-art engineering that combines electronics with living tissue.’

  ‘Wow,’ Trevor said and whistled through his teeth.

  ‘Nano what?’ René asked.

  ‘What might at first glance appear to be a birthmark or small tattoo is in fact the most sophisticated technology in the world. Everything that you would ever require is stored in the Shield: your banking details, driver’s license, credit status and history, residential address, and much, much more.’

  ‘This really is impressive,’ Trevor said.

  ‘And here’s how it works,’ the commentary continued dramatically. ‘Anything from a pin to a truck is marked with similar Shield technology. Shield Line scanners and other scanning technologies are then used to calculate the costs and automatically deduct it from your account, giving you the freedom to stay on the move.

  ‘But wait! There’s more! If you install the Shield today, all your debt will instantly be wiped clean. Yes, you heard me right. All your debt will be reset to zero so that you will begin on a clean slate.’

  Trevor looked at René with no effort to hide the yeah, right expression from his face.

  ‘Do you have a house that you’re still paying off? A car? Well, if you get the Shield now, you will owe nothing more. Get the Shield today; it’s the right thing to do.’

  ‘It really sounds like a good deal,’ Trevor said, the sarcasm totally gone from his voice, although the scepticism still lingered. ‘I think I’ll check this out more thoroughly tomorrow.’

  ‘Yeah,’ René said, almost as if in a trance. ‘Me too. In fact, I might even go get one.’

  The voice from the television continued, ‘The procedure is clean, fast, cost-effective, and totally safe. No needles are used to make this wonderful technology a part of your life. There is no pain. It’s simple, and instant.’

  ‘That’s an added bonus,’ Trevor said.

  ‘Don’t delay! Get your Shield of Victor today, and have more freedom to do what you want, when you want, while staying on the move. Have us take care of the paperwork while you take care of life.’

  The remainder of the infomercial dealt with places where the Shield could be obtained, more benefits of having the Shield, and even more technical information on how the Shield works.

  ‘Imagine that,’ Trevor said and sunk back into the sofa. ‘No more plastic cards, no more cash, or carrying that irritating driver’s license around. No bulky wallet to lug everywhere or lose. Me likes. Me likes a lot.’

  - - -* * *- - -

  It was late, but Andrew couldn’t sleep. He put on a slack tracksuit pants and tee shirt, and went for a stroll down the empty street. All around him, people were either watching late night television, or have been sleeping for some time already. He liked going for long walks whenever he couldn’t sleep or when he had to clear his mind from something that bothered him.

  When he and Kate decided that they wouldn’t see each other anymore, he walked for three and a half hours. He missed her at times, but he knew that it was best that they weren’t together anymore. Their relationship had become extremely volatile, and even though he would never bring himself to hurt a woman, he at times wanted to literally strangle her. At the end of his three-hour walk that evening they broke up, he found it easier to come to terms with the fact that he would never see her again.

  Norman was delighted to hear that they had broken up. He never liked her and had warned Andrew on several occasions that she was bad news and he had to let her go. Andrew always just shrugged off Norman’s advice. Could it be possible that love could be so stubborn? So blatantly blind?

  Andrew had found her really pleasant when they first met; innocent and sweet. She was beautiful, and when the sun caught her hair just right, he would have sworn that she was an angel from Heaven. An angel she had turned out to be indeed, but not from Heaven. As time went by, they began to quibble about small things. That soon turned into huge fights, and soon after that, fits of rage. The end result was betrayal. He caught her in his bed, cheating on him with one of his best friends. He wanted to leave her then and there, but his heart melted when she pleaded for his forgiveness. She cried the whole night, promising her devotion to him, and like a rebellious son, he kicked against Norman’s warnings and took her back.

  Two months later, he caught her in bed again with another friend, and eventually took her back again. It was only a matter of time before he realized that it would keep on happening for the rest of his life, and they thus made a mutual decision to stop seeing one another.

  ‘Nice night for a stroll, eh?’

  Andrew’s blood froze for a second and he quickly spun around. He relaxed a little when he saw a smiling face standing behind him.

  ‘My apologies,’ the man said. ‘I didn’t mean to startle you.’

  ‘It’s okay,’ Andrew said when his heartbeat returned to normal. ‘It’s just that I didn’t expect to see anyone on the streets at this hour.’

  ‘It’s such a lovely evening,’ the man said, ‘that I just couldn’t resist taking a stroll.’

  ‘You and me both,’ Andrew said and forced a smile.

  ‘I’m Alistair.’

  They shook hands. ‘I’m Andrew. Pleased to meet you.’

  ‘Likewise,’ Alistair said in a friendly voice.

  They continued walking down the street. ‘So what do you do for a living?’ Alistair asked.

  Andrew didn’t go for a stroll late at night just to hook up and chat to a perfect stranger, but something about Alastair made him more open to conversation. ‘I have my own clothing line,’ Andrew said. ‘And you?’

  ‘Community service.’

  ‘Court ordered?”

  Alastair laughed out loudly. ‘Goodness, no.’

  ‘Ah, okay.’ Andrew said, still not really clear on what it was that Alastair did exactly. ‘Does it pay well?’

  ‘In a sense,’ Alastair said and smiled warmly, ‘but the best things in life are not always about money.’

  ‘I realized that abruptly the day of the alien attacks.’

  ‘Alien attacks? What alien attacks?’

  Andrew stopped walking. ‘You’re kidding, right?’

  ‘Not at all,’ Alistair said, still smiling.

  ‘How can you not know anything about the alien attacks?’

  ‘Oh, I know what they claimed had happened, if that’s what you mean.’

  ‘Well, I don’t know what you mean. Who are the “they” that you’re talking about?’

  ‘The powers that be,’ Alistair sighed and leaned against a wall. ‘Put it this way: have you actually seen any of the so-called ‘aliens’?’

  ‘No,’ Andrew said. ‘But I have also never seen my brain. That doesn’t mean that my brain doesn’t exist.’

  Alistair laughed. ‘That’s true.’

  ‘So what do you think is the ‘truth’ behind the alien attacks?’

  ‘Do you read the Bible?’

  ‘Not really, but I don’t see what that has to do with anything.’

  ‘It has everything to do with anything, Andrew.’

  ‘But there’s nothing in the Bible about aliens. I don’t see—’

  ‘You still don’t get it, do you?’

  ‘Get what?’

  Alistair sighed. ‘In time you
will,’ he said softly. ‘But until then, just read the book.’

  ‘What book? The Bible?’

  Alistair turned and started walking away from Andrew. ‘I have to go now. We will talk again, I promise.’

  ‘What book?’ Andrew asked again as Alistair disappeared around the corner of a building. It then struck him which book Alistair was talking about. ‘How did you...?’

  He was alone, the only sound being the soft rustling of the leaves. His mind raced with millions of questions, all bombarding him at once. He contemplated running after Alistair, but decided against it. It was getting very late, and he wanted to take another look at Trevor’s book.

  As he walked back, he replayed their conversation through his mind, trying to figure out what vital clue he had missed. As he walked, the last words of Alistair echoed in his mind: We will talk again, I promise...

  - - -* * *- - -

  A lone figure paced up and down the dark hallways of the huge forty-two room mansion. After a while, Ryan stopped. How could I have been so stupid? He asked himself. How could I have been so blind? He started pacing again; unable to come to terms with the fact that his master was who he claimed he was.

  Ryan was smart. He could figure out complex puzzles and riddles in record time, but how could he have missed this? All the signs were as obvious as sand in a desert, and yet, he had failed to link them together. With the healing of his alcohol problem, he knew that there was something different about Victor, but never in his life would he have come to this conclusion. Victor was smarter than anyone that Ryan ever encountered. No riddle could defeat him, no person could win a debate against him, and winning a chess match against the best in the world was like brushing his teeth. He was a human genius, and it only started making sense to Ryan now.

  ‘Something wrong?’ a calm voice asked from somewhere in a dark corner of the hallway.