Devil's Nightmare: Premonitions (Devil's Nightmare, Book 2)

by Robert Pruneda

  Some of the students in the cafeteria continued to watch Cody as he scanned the room for a place to sit. He found an empty seat in the back of the cafeteria. He sighed and made his way towards the table, being careful to watch his step for any obstacles he might trip over. He made it safely to the table, but as soon as he sat down, Peter and his two sidekicks joined him. Peter and Randy sat on either side of him. Kevin sat across the table.

  “What do you want?” Cody said.

  Peter wrapped his arm around Cody’s shoulders. “Kevin just wanted to apologize. Tell him, Kev.”

  “I’m sorry for tripping you,” Kevin said, a slight smirk in his voice.

  “Fine, you apologized.” Cody pushed Peter’s arm away. “Now leave me alone.”

  “You’re not going to thank him?” Peter asked, while running his finger through the bowl of applesauce on Cody’s tray. He licked the dessert from his fingers and looked at Kevin. “Don’t you think that was kind of rude? I mean, you did apologize.”

  “Would you please just leave me alone?” Cody said, his nostrils flaring. “I’m not going to say anything to anyone.”

  “Oh, I know you won’t.” Peter slapped him on the back, hard enough for it to sting. He held onto his shoulder with a tight grip. “We heard it was your birthday, so we brought you a little gift. Give it to him, Kev.”

  “I found this outside, thought you would enjoy it.” Kevin held his closed fist over Cody’s plate of food. When he opened his hand, a large cockroach dropped onto the meatloaf. “Enjoy your meal.”

  Peter pressed his thumb into the cockroach, burying it into the meatloaf. “It’ll give your food a nice little crunch when you bite into it now. Happy birthday, queer.”

  Cody stared at the jagged insect legs sticking out of his food, while Peter and his two friends left the table. Peter and Kevin chuckled as they left the cafeteria, with Randy trailing behind. He looked over his shoulder and stopped just short of the exit. He leaned against the metal doorframe and sighed. He could tell the extra ingredient had ruined Cody’s appetite by the nauseous expression on his face. But he managed to keep the bile creeping up his throat at bay… that is, until the black and brown winged cockroach twitched its legs.

  †

  Aaron sat at his desk with his department-issued Glock 17 disassembled on his desk. He had nothing else to do but read law enforcement magazines or work on the daily crossword puzzle in the San Antonio Express-News, so cleaning his weapon seemed like the more productive thing to do. He had also recently replaced his personal pistol with a more compact and accurate G38 that carried nine fewer rounds in the magazine, but it also held a more powerful forty-five caliber bullet instead of the nine millimeter round of the Glock 17.

  “Hey, Aaron,” Sergeant Henderson said with his feet propped up on his desk. “What’s a seven-letter word for Sabbath bread? I’ve been stuck on this one for the past ten minutes.”

  “Hell if I know,” Aaron said, while running a cleaning brush through the barrel of his gun. “Manna?”

  “No, that’s not it. ‘C’ is the first letter.”

  Aaron shook his head and widened his eyes. He’d never liked crossword puzzles or had the patience for them, but now he had the question stuck in his head. He set the barrel down and searched for ‘Sabbath bread’ on the Internet.

  Aaron grinned. “The word you’re looking for is challah.”

  “You Googled it, didn’t you? That’s cheating.”

  Aaron laughed. “You’re welcome.”

  “I’m sorry I asked for your help.”

  “Oh, wah!” Aaron teased as his cell phone rang. It was Maria. “Hey, babe.”

  “How’s work?”

  “Exciting. I’m shooting cockroaches with spit wads while Scott strains his brain with another crossword puzzle.”

  “At least I don’t cheat on it,” Scott said, his pencil poised over the newspaper.

  “Was that Scott?” Maria asked.

  “Yeah,” Aaron smirked. “He made the mistake of asking me for help. I just Googled the answer.”

  Maria laughed. “I probably would have done the same thing.”

  “So, what’s up?”

  “Oh, I was just wondering if you wanted to go out for lunch. It’s been a while since we’ve done that.”

  “Hell, yeah. Anything to get me out of the office.” Aaron held the phone to his ear with his shoulder and worked on reassembling his gun. “What did you have in mind?”

  “Anything but fast food.”

  “Mexican?”

  They settled on Lupita’s Taqueria a few blocks away, which had the reputation of having the best fajitas and margaritas in town. They also had the best prices. Aaron toyed with the idea of taking the rest of the day off to treat himself to a few margaritas, but it was his turn to pick up the kids from school, so the alcohol would have to wait.

  †

  Cody skipped lunch. He spent the rest of the afternoon lost in thought, barely paying attention in class. During Physical Education, his mind wandered while he jogged the four laps around the quarter-mile track. How could his day begin with such joy and quickly turn to crap? Those jerks had nothing better to do than pick on him for no reason other than using him for their twisted entertainment. It didn’t end in the cafeteria, either. The harassment carried on into the locker room after Cody skipped showering, something he often did to avoid awkward stares at his chest.

  He faced the locker while he changed clothes to shield his scars from onlookers. He wrinkled his forehead and frowned at the applesauce-stained Atlanta Braves t-shirt that Maria had given him for his birthday. He spotted Kevin approaching him with a mischievous grin on his face, a clean Polo shirt draped over his shoulder. He checked behind him. Coach Garcia was nowhere in sight. Peter observed from across the locker room.

  “So, how was lunch, freak?” He slapped Cody’s bare chest with the back of his hand and then acted as if he’d just touched something filthy.

  Cody ignored Kevin’s provocation, pulled his t-shirt over his head, and tossed his gym clothes into the locker.

  “Did you enjoy that crunchy bit of protein I added to your meatloaf?”

  Cody secured his locker, slung his backpack over his shoulder, and walked away without making any eye contact.

  “Hey, I’m talking to you, punk!” Kevin grabbed the backpack and pulled, swinging Cody around. “When I say something to you—”

  Cody dropped his backpack, balled his fist, and planted it hard into Kevin’s stomach. A pain-filled grunt overshadowed the slap of Cody’s fist making contact. Kevin doubled over, his arms crossed over his stomach, and spit up white and yellow vomit onto the floor.

  “Leave me the fuck alone, goddammit!” Cody yelled as loud as his lungs and vocal chords would allow.

  Kevin wheezed and gazed up at Cody, shock and anguish filling his eyes.

  Coach Garcia hurried into the locker room and noticed Kevin crouched over, holding his stomach. He locked eyes with Cody. He didn’t have to ask any of his students to figure out what had happened. Cody had finally built up the courage to defend himself. “All right boys. Party’s over. Time to go.”

  Cody glanced back at Kevin with contempt, and then focused on Peter with angry eyes that said, I’ve had enough of your crap, so don’t mess with me.

  †

  Cody fell face first into a muddy puddle behind the school, a hard kick connecting with his stomach. Peter turned him over and grabbed his shirt collar. “You made a big mistake growing a set of balls, asshole.”

  Randy grabbed Peter’s arm. “Come on, man. Don’t you think he’s been through enough for one day?”

  Peter shoved Randy. “The fuck did you say?”

  “Hey, I’m just saying we should give him a breather, that’s all.”

  “I don’t give a shit what you think, Randy. You didn’t see what this little faggot did.”

  “I know, I just think we should—”

  “Should what?” Peter shook his head and waved Ra
ndy off. “Never mind. I don’t give a shit.” He leaned towards Cody. “So, what about you, queer? You made an ass out of Kevin in there. You think we should just let that slide?”

  Cody sat up in the muddy water. “He deserved it, Pete. And I didn’t make an ass out of anyone. He did that on his own.”

  “And what the hell you think you deserve? A reward or something?” Peter laughed.

  Kevin formed an impish smile on his face. “How about a trip back to Swirlyville?”

  “Yeah, this little shithead would like that, wouldn’t he?” Peter paused for a moment and rubbed a finger over his lips. “But I don’t know. Maybe Randy’s right. Maybe one trip to Swirlyville is enough. I guess that was kind of mean.” He suppressed a grin and offered Cody his hand. “I’m sorry, man. Let me help you up.”

  Cody hesitated taking Peter’s hand, but he grabbed it anyway and quickly realized that was a mistake. He should have trusted his instincts. Peter lifted him up only to shove him right back down again. He hit the back of his head on a flat stone submerged in the shallow puddle of muddy water. His vision blurred, but he could hear Peter and Kevin laughing. Someone knelt next to him, but he couldn’t tell who it was through the haze.

  “Dude, I think he hit his head on something.” Randy ran his hand across the back of Cody’s head and checked his fingers. It wasn’t much, but his fingers had blood on them. “He’s bleeding.”

  “Serves him right.”

  Randy helped Cody up, but Peter pushed him back to the ground.

  “The hell you doing? A little scratch ain’t gonna kill him. Whose side you on anyway? His or mine?”

  “Yours,” Randy answered without hesitation. “I’m just saying that we—”

  “Dude, if you can’t stomach a little bit of roughhousing, then maybe you should just join that queer.”

  “It’s not like that, Pete.”

  “Then prove it. Kick his ass. Hell, I’ll even hold him for you.” Peter grabbed Cody’s arm and then felt a sudden shock of discomfort between his legs. The punch to the overweight teen’s testicles angered him more than it hurt him. He barely even flinched.

  “Oh, crap,” Cody muttered. It wasn’t quite what he expected after slamming his fist into Peter’s genitals. His gut instinct had backfired on him.

  Peter pulled him up by his shirt and landed two solid punches to his face. He then punched him in the stomach, causing Cody to double over and wheeze. He followed through with a final blow to the jaw, knocking him back into the puddle of muddy rainwater.

  “Pull that shit on me again, “Peter said through gritted teeth, “and I’ll cut your fucking dick off and shove it down your throat.”

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Reunion

  Cody sat against the brick wall of the school building with his arms wrapped around his legs and tucked close to his chest. His clothes were soiled and wet. His tears turned the dirt on his face into a muddy mess. He had a small cut on his lower lip and an aching left eye, another reminder to look at in the mirror of how much he hated living in Lost Maples… of how much he hated his life.

  He closed his eyes and thought of his mother. He imagined her holding him in her arms, running her hands through his hair, and telling him everything was going to be okay. She kissed his forehead and whispered that she loved him. For a moment, he was at peace. He could almost feel the warmth of her body, the subtle sound of her heart beating as he rested his ear against her bosom.

  “I miss you, Mom,” he whispered.

  “I’m here, my dear Cody,” a woman’s voice responded.

  He opened his eyes. He was no longer behind the school, but back home in Austin. The woman holding him wasn’t his mother. He did recognize her though. She was the woman in the photo, the one he’d found in his locker. She was the woman holding a baby wrapped in a blanket.

  “Who are you?” he asked, feeling uncanny comfort in the woman’s arms.

  She continued to stroke his hair. “I’m your mother,” she said in a soothing voice, “and I love you very much.”

  Cody pulled away from her arms. “My mother is dead.”

  Her eyes drooped in sadness. “Oh, my sweet Cody.”

  He didn’t want to believe it, but in his heart, he felt a strong connection. He felt so much peace when she held him in her arms. “I don’t understand,” he said, a tear dropping from each of his eyes. “If you’re my mother…” Cody swallowed. “…then who’s my father?”

  The woman disappeared in a mist, but the sound of her voice filled the room. “I think you know, my dear. I think you have always known.”

  †

  “I found him,” Aaron yelled. “He’s over here.” He gave Cody a gentle shake. His forehead was rested against his knees, his arms still wrapped around his legs.

  Cody lifted his head and revealed the damage Peter Slavic had done to his face. It was limited to a bloody lip and a hint of bruising under his left eye, but that was enough for Aaron to express concern. “What happened to you?”

  Samantha arrived around the corner of the building and stopped. She gasped and held her hand over her mouth, her eyes wide. “Oh, my God.”

  “It’s nothing,” he said, shifting his eyes to Samantha.

  “You need to tell him, Cody.”

  Aaron turned to Samantha. “Tell me what?”

  “Nothing,” Cody said. “I want to go home.”

  Aaron held Cody’s chin gently and examined the injuries. “This doesn’t look like nothing. If you’re being bullied, you need to tell me who it is.”

  “No! You’ll just go to the principal and make things worse. Let me handle it.”

  “Come on, Cody,” Aaron urged. “Let me help you. You don’t need to go through this alone.”

  Cody grabbed his backpack, which was covered in dried mud. He lost his balance as he stood and pressed his left hand on the brick wall. He shook his head and blinked his eyes a couple of times.

  “Whoa, there. Easy.” Aaron placed an arm around Cody and helped him regain his footing.

  “I’m fine,” said Cody, brushing himself off. “I got up too fast, that’s all. Can we go home now?”

  “Not until you tell me what’s going on.”

  Cody grunted in defeat. “Fine. You’ll just end up getting it out of Samantha anyway.” He dropped his bag and leaned back against the wall. “But you have to promise me you won’t do anything.”

  “What’s his name?”

  “Promise me.”

  “All right, I promise.” Aaron pressed his right hand over his heart. “Now who did this to you?”

  Cody wavered for a moment before finally telling Aaron about Peter Slavic and his two friends without giving him their names. He told him what they did to him, but he left out the part about them dunking his head in a toilet. Samantha, on the other hand, took it upon herself to fill in those missing details.

  Aaron’s temples pulsated, his jaw tightened.

  “You can’t do anything,” Cody said. “You promised.”

  “I’m sorry. I can’t let them get away with this. They should be expelled.”

  “And when they come back? Then what?”

  “They won’t bother you again. I’ll make sure of that.”

  “I’m already a freak at school because of my scars. Don’t make me that kid who went crying to his cop dad.”

  “So let them keep bullying you? That’s it?”

  Cody stared at Aaron without answering, but he didn’t have to.

  Aaron gazed upwards with his hands on his hips. “Look, I understand why you don’t want me to get involved.” He leaned forward. “But you’ve been through enough in your life. You shouldn’t have to put up with these assholes.”

  “Don’t worry about me. I survived getting a dagger ripped into my chest, remember?” Cody stepped away from the wall and slung his backpack over his shoulder. “I think I can handle a fat slob’s bullying.”

  †

  “Samantha!” Aaron woke up with a jolt, his t-shirt dr
enched in sweat.

  Maria took Aaron’s hand and squeezed it. “It was just a dream, honey.”

  He embraced her and kissed her on the side of her head.

  “What was it about?” she asked.

  “The same one I’ve been having,” Aaron said. “The one about Cody.”

  Maria swallowed and placed her hand on her chest. “The one where he…”

  “Yes. That one.” Aaron pulled from their embrace and got out of bed. “I’m going to go check on him.”

  Maria followed close behind. When he opened Cody’s bedroom door and turned on the light, they found the room empty. They shared glances and then checked on Samantha. She was curled up in her bed, asleep with the covers pulled to her chin. They checked the bathrooms and closets, but no Cody.

  They heard a rumbling noise.

  “Is that your car?” Maria said.

  They ran outside and could hear the Corvette engine idling inside the closed garage. They glanced at each other, and without a word, sprinted towards it. Aaron pulled the door open and coughed from the strong fumes emitting out of the dual exhaust pipes. A dense white cloud of exhaust filled the area and made a slow escape outside into the open air.

  Aaron covered his nose and mouth with his shirt, rushed over to the driver’s side, and opened the door. His eyes widened. “Maria!” he yelled. “Call nine-one-one!”

  “Is it Cody?”

  “Yes! Now hurry!”

  Aaron reached over Cody’s body and turned off the engine. He cried “No!” repeatedly as he pulled him out of the driver’s seat. He carried him outside, resting him on the grass in front of the house. The carbon monoxide poisoning in the boy’s blood had turned his skin a reddish tone. His body was still warm and the colorization in his skin signified that he had recently lost consciousness. He wasn’t breathing.

  Aaron performed cardiopulmonary resuscitation, urging Cody to wake up, and pleading for God to spare his life. While Aaron performed CPR on the boy, Maria rushed inside and called 9-1-1. A couple of minutes later, she returned with her cell phone in her hand.