by Kit Hallows
I watched him as I ate my omelet, and as soon as I'd finished, I made my way over to the counter. He looked up with a panicked glance and held a hand over the newspaper, as if I might try to snatch it away. "Can I help you?" he asked, his voice as skittish as his eyes.
"You know a man called Kendricks?"
He flinched. "I've settled up already, I don't owe another penny 'til next month. Check the books-"
"I'm not here to collect. I just need to know where to find him."
The man shook his head. "Stay away, trust me. You don't want to get involved."
I pulled a twenty from my wallet and slapped it on the counter next to his steaming coffee. "Now can you tell me?"
He glanced at the cash and licked his lips, then his hand shot out as quick as lightning and the money was gone. "Forest Street. One of the big houses in the gated part. Number twelve. Don't mention me, okay?"
"Not a word, pal." I left him to his newspaper, paid the check and made my way to the car.
As I turned onto Forest Street, the name suddenly struck me as being little more than a cruel epitaph. The dark, wide, lifeless artery ran through a sprawling neighborhood built on the land where an old forest had once proudly stood. It had been the wild untamed refuge where my friends and I had made makeshift forts or woodland camps and played all summer long. But all of that was gone now. Every last tree mown away so that rows of expensive-looking townhouses and homes could stand in their place. The peculiar feeling of nostalgia took me by surprise but I shook it off as I slowly made my way toward the towering iron gates that led to the more exclusive residences in the cul-de-sac beyond.
I pulled up, took a moment to try and clear the hangover from my mind, and climbed from the car. I lifted the carpet-like mat that concealed the spare tire and glanced around before pulling my sword from its hiding place. I slipped it under my raincoat along with my gun, then I grabbed a handful of crystals, slammed the trunk shut and made my way toward the tall imposing gates.
The light on the keypad next to the gate flashed red, as if reading my intentions. I rifled through my pocket, angling my head down to avoid the security cameras as I pulled out a credit card and crystal. I absorbed the magic and was about to swipe the card through the reader, when a voice startled me from my trance.
"Can I help you?" A security guard stood on the other side of the heavy black bars. He'd done his best to inject steely authority into his voice, but failed. The magic washed through me as I slipped my hand through the gap to shake his. He glanced down, his brow knitting until the glamor overtook his senses, then he held out his flabby hand and gazed up with glassy eyes. "Good to see you," he said, as if we were the oldest of friends.
"You can let go now."
"Oh, sorry." He released my hand and, with a blank look on his face, awaited further instruction.
"Open the gate and take me to the Kendricks house."
"Certainly." The security guard vanished behind a wall, the gate thrummed and opened with a soft clang and we walked toward the end of the cul-de-sac.
"Chilly huh," he said in an effort to fill the silence.
"Very. You should get back inside, once you've shown me Kendricks' house, and have a little snooze."
"I might just do that." He stopped and pointed to a tall stucco house with a sloped tile roof and lots and lots of windows. In the middle of the immaculate lawn a gushing fountain gurgled and splashed. "That's Mister Kendricks' place."
"Good. You should go now, take a load off."
"Thank you," he said as he walked off, whistling a nondescript melody.
I glanced around the serene, quiet neighborhood. It was still early and there were no discernible signs of life.
Perfect.
The path that led to the house continued around to the side of the building. I was about to follow it, hoping to find less conspicuous way in, when I spotted a silhouette at one of the downstairs windows.
Shit.
I made my way toward the front door like it had been my plan all along, and grasped a crystal, taking in its power. The door opened, and a woman appeared. It took a moment to see past her cloak. I stepped back.
Behind her pupils were dancing silver pools and while her flesh seemed human, scales still shimmered through in places. Long, wild black hair sprung from her head and cascaded down along the tight tanned leather cat suit, to the small of her back. And around her neck was the finger-bone necklace Dale had mentioned. It rattled and clanked as she moved toward me. "What do you want?" she asked, her voice snide and cruel.
"I have business to discuss with Kendricks."
"If you had any business with him I'd know about it." She shook her head. "Now what the fuck do you want?"
"I just told-" I jerked to one side but my reactions were too slow as she seized me by the shoulder, yanked me into the house, and slammed the door behind us.
14
I tore free of the demon's grip and backed down the entryway towards a flight of stairs. She watched with keen anticipation as she grabbed a baseball bat from the umbrella stand by the front door.
"Back off." I pulled my gun, but before I could take aim, the demon charged, swinging her bat and knocking the gun from my hand. As she swung again I could see the glimmer of the cruel barbed fish hooks that had been embedded into the hardwood. I ducked, and the bat sliced the air above my head.
She tossed the weapon from hand to hand and leaned on one leg as if she were standing at bat. "First, I'll knock you out, then I'll gut you. And when I'm done, I'll bleach your bones and add them to my collection." She gave me a lecherous smile and shimmied like a belly dancer as the bones rattled around her neck like a snake. Click, clack, click.
I glanced over toward my gun but before I could make a move, she kicked it away. "I'm really looking forward to wearing you," she said as she came at me. I scrambled around for a means of defense. The only thing at hand was the ornate vase on the antique table beside me. The demon hesitated as I prepared to lob it at her head. "No!" She raised her hand, a look of horror filled her savage face. "Put it down."
I made an underhand throw and the vase sailed through the air in a slow, expensive arc.
"Fuck!" The demon tossed the bat, threw her hands out and caught it as it passed over her head.
I kicked her hard in the stomach. She buckled and fell, her knees thudding against the polished wooden floor but she clung to the vase as if her life depended on it. The demon gently reached out to set it back upon the table. I grabbed the bat from the floor and knocked the un-barbed length of it across the back of her skull.
She gave a grunt and collapsed out cold as the vase shattered upon the floor beside her.
"Who the hell are you?" A low, nasal voice demanded.
The man at the top of the stairs wore a long plush burgundy dressing gown and a furious grimace. He ran a hand through his thinning hair, combing it into place. "Well?" His mouth formed a squiggle of displeasure as he brought his other hand up and aimed a revolver squarely between my eyes.
"Morgan Rook, I'm here to settle Dale Rook's debt. I assume you're Kendricks." He neither confirmed or denied it as he continued to stare. I met his gaze with my own. "You need to put that gun down before I get really pissed."
"Don't threaten me." He drew his shoulders back and stood taller, causing his gown to fall open and reveal far more than I needed to see.
"You've been harassing my father." I dropped the bat on the floor and placed my hands in my pockets, grasping the crystals inside. It was all I could do to suppress my shiver as the magic swirled through my palms.
"Hands where I can see them," Kendricks descended the stairs, his gun never wavering. "Your father has threatened my livelihood by taking money he refuses to return. So, he'll pay the price, as will you."
My blood simmered with each step he took. He had magic inside him, but not much. Certainly not enough. "Do you want the money..." I reached into my coat and rested my hand on the hilt of my sword. It thrummed as if greeting me. "Or do you want m
e to remove your repulsive head from your dandruff-laden shoulders?"
I bound forward before he could respond and held his gaze as I stalked toward him. Magic swelled in my veins and I used it to force his attention toward my chest, rather than my face. He fired and the sound thundered off the walls.
The bullet struck me hard in the chest. It sent me flying back but I'd used the full force of the remaining magic to bolster the coat's armor.
The round fell to the floor as I jumped up and swung the sword before he could fire again. Disarm.
The flat of the blade smacked the back of his hand. He yelped and dropped the gun. It clattered down the stairs as I advanced, laying the tip of the blade at his throat.
Kendricks turned and ran, tripping over his dressing gown as he scrambled away, giving me a full flash of his white corpulent ass. There wasn't enough magic in the world to erase that horror show. He got to his feet before I could reach him, leapt up the last few steps and disappeared through a hastily slammed door.
I heard a woman's voice in the room. She sounded terrified but her scream was drowned out by the sound of something heavy being dragged across the floor. I kicked the door hard, and it bashed into a half moved dresser.
"Please!" Kendricks said, all pretense at being anything other than a pasty-faced maggot gone. The young naked woman in his bed looked barely legal. Her glazed eyes traveled to the needle on the bedside table and I caught a glimpse of raised red welts on her shoulders as she scrambled to cover herself.
"Get dressed, and get out of here," I said, looking away as she lurched towards a pile of clothes upon the floor.
"Hurt him," she whispered as she staggered past and fled the room.
Kendricks backed away, working himself toward the furthest corner of the room where a huge painting of a hunting scene hung. The frame alone had to be worth more than my annual salary. He muttered as he tied his dressing gown, his fingers visibly shaking. "Leave. Get out. I'll pay you, just go."
"Where are your books?"
"Books?"
"Your ledgers. Your list of debtors, I don't imagine you keep it on a computer. Where is it?" I watched as he glanced towards an expensive-looking classical still-life of a lavish bowl filled with grapes.
"Open it."
Kendricks nodded and took down the painting. It shook in his hands as he placed it on the floor, revealing the safe hidden within the wall. I didn't bother to watch as he keyed in the combination. If I'd wanted it, I could have easily gotten it from him.
He reached into the safe and held out a thick black book. "I'll scratch out your father's debt, right now!" Kendricks took a silver pen from the safe and carried the book to a dresser. He was compliant but I could still hear the rage lingering at the edge of his promise, and I had no doubt he'd make someone suffer for this indignity.
If I let him.
Kendricks flipped through the pages, revealing column upon column of neatly written names, dates and sums. "Here." He pointed to my father's entry, took the pen and ran a line through it. "Now go, get out of my house."
"Not yet." In my mind's eye I could still see the red lashes he'd raised on the girl's flesh and the doped desperation in her eyes. I thrust the tip of my sword into the floorboards between us and enjoyed the grimace on his face as I left it to sway there. I pulled out the envelope of cash Erland had given me. "How much does Dale owe you?"
Kendricks gave me the exact amount. He licked his lips, his devotion to Mammon overriding his fear.
"Take it," I said. He reached for the envelope like it was a dangerous animal. "So, Dale's debt is settled?"
Kendricks nodded. "Our business is concluded." The former arrogance was creeping back into his demeanor.
I reached into my pocket, pulled out a lighter and threw it to him. "Good. Now burn the book."
"What?" he glared at the lighter with indignation.
"I said burn the fucking book."
"This has nothing to do with you. These people-"
"Like the woman I just saw? The one who has to mainline heroin just to screw you? I saw the welts on her shoulders and I don't doubt there's more. Do you mean people like her?"
"I run a business, people take the money, my money. I don't hold a gun to their heads, I don't force them to take the cash."
"No, their shitty circumstances and bad fortune do that for you. You just milk it for every single cent." I pulled my sword from the wood floor, relishing the renewed terror in his eyes as I strode toward him. He cried out as I swung the blade. It arced over his head, slashing the painting behind him.
"That's..." his mouth fell open."That's worth..."
I ignored him as I turned toward the other canvases, scraping dusty flecks of color into the air with a flick of my wrist. Then I began to smash the vases on his dresser. His girlish shriek rose over the shattering chorus of expensive china. "Stop!" he begged. He started towards me, hands out, eyes imploring.
I lowered the sword. "Burn the book or I'll tear this house down. Right before your eyes."
"I..."
"You've got plenty of money squirreled away, way more then you could spend in your lifetime. But the money isn't the goal is it? It's the power you're after. You're a predator, but there's bigger sharks than you in this world, and I'm one of them. But I'm offering you an out. Take this opportunity, make today the first day of your new life as a philanthropist." I closed the gap between us, grabbed him by the ear, pulled his face towards mine and looked him in the eye. "Now burn the fucking book."
Kendricks nodded, beads of sweat glistening upon his pig-like face. "Alright. Just stop." He plucked the book off of the dresser, wincing as he flicked his finger over the flint and the flame danced mockingly before his eyes. He paused until my slap broke him from his stupor. "Good god," he said as the flame licked the bottom of the pages. The book smoldered, then a fat orange flame curled up over the cover. I kicked a waste bin towards him and he dropped it in, his face bilious.
"We're done," I turned to leave but stopped short of the door. "One last thing. I'll be passing through in the near future. If I hear you've so much as looked in my father's direction, or troubled another soul, I'll cut your fingers off and give them to your pet demon. And it wouldn't be unlike me to offer it your toes too, maybe even your balls. Do you understand?"
Kendricks nodded like a toy dog. "Got... got it."
I left, bounding down the stairs before the cloud of darkness swelling inside me could overwhelm my better instincts.
15
I cut through the fallow fields on my way out of town and found an access road that led to the highway. The radio played anodyne songs, as the sky opened up wide and blue. I joined a steady stream of cars heading east, and the dirty brown vista behind me faded like a tobacco stain in my rearview mirror.
The world seemed bigger now, filled with potential and possibility. I relaxed and followed the GPS's short clipped robotic demands as I made my way to Copperwood Falls. I had no idea what I'd find there, and I didn't care. Any change or distraction from the shadows of my past was welcome.
At least that's what I'd thought.
I merged off the freeway onto a series of long, seemingly endless roads that cut through pastures and nondescript towns. Heavily forested hills loomed on the horizon and the tall trees grew steadily larger, like sleeping giants wearing coats of green and copper.
Eventually the road narrowed into a slalom of bends and twists. I wound through a grove of chestnut trees while golden leaves whirled, drifting down from above like autumnal dervishes. I slowed as I approached a crossroads near an arched stone bridge where a river gushed between two lush wooded banks. A large painted wooden sign at the side of the road read:
'Welcome to Copperwood Falls, population 377'
The background behind the rustic painted font was a landscape with two impossibly blue waterfalls flowing among vibrant red and green forested hillsides and while it was picturesque and quaint, something about it sent a slight shiver down my spine.
I pulled over and got out of the car.
The air was cool and crisp with a faint hint of wood smoke. I stretched my legs and wandered down toward the bridge. The river gurgled and gushed over mossy black rocks, while wisps of algae swayed and danced in the eddies.
And then a shocking stench hit me.
I covered my nose and mouth with my coat.
Driftwood and broken branches lay in a tangle near the shadows of the bridge, and trapped within the limbs were scores of dead rotting fish. Many were skinless, their bones jutting from decaying pink flesh. A few still had their dark mournful eyes and they stared back as if imploring me to release them from their stagnant limbo so they could drift downstream to whatever afterlife awaited them.
The reek of death was like a relentless invisible assailant and I surrendered, heading back to the car and the comforting scent of synthetic cleaning agents, air fresheners and plastic. I drove up the road but instead of following it into town, I took a narrow lane that wound up the hill. I followed it to the summit, parked and made my way through the forest until I found a vantage point.
At first glance Copperwood Falls seemed to have five crisscrossing streets and little more. But when I looked a bit closer there was at least double that number.
Interesting.
Pale, chalky grey streams of chimney smoke curled up from roof tops, and I soon realized that this little one horse town was actually a quite a bit bigger then I'd first thought. Buildings and homes lay nestled among the trees on the outskirts and beyond the picturesque town was the backdrop of the falls themselves. Great white roaring plumes of water sent out fine rainbow-colored mists that was both ethereal and charming. The whole place was a sleepy rural picture postcard, yet there was a maggot in this apple pie-like town. It lurked hidden below the crust, fat and white, and writhing. I could sense it, almost see it.
Danger. Darkness.
And then, as if on cue, a vast ragged grey cloud slipped in front of the sun, casting a shadow over the neighboring hillside. I watched as darkness swept across the valley and advanced toward me like a black plague falling across the land.