The Revenants

by Castle, Jack

  Calvin typed it in and after a few seconds the desktop monitor came to life. “Hey, that actually worked.”

  (of course it did)

  As Calvin rewound the camera footage on the breakfast nook most of the image was pretty fuzzy but when he stopped it, they all saw an image of Peyton torturing Jaden. Then, even though the rest of the image was frozen in a still shot, Peyton lifted her head and grinned up into the camera.

  “Oh crap,” Calvin breathed.

  Wally lurched forward and turned off the power.

  After a few moments of no one saying anything, Becca asked, “Wally, where is she?”

  “I didn’t know.” Wally stammered. “I don’t believe any of this.”

  “Where, Wally?”

  “The heat stopped blowing warm air through the vents. So I sent her down to the boiler room… with Big Leonard.”

  Chapter 33

  Peyton & Big Leonard

  Entering the basement, the big lineman felt a coldness that chilled him to his very core. He frowned back at Peyton. “Whoa, it’s cold enough in here to freeze the balls off a brass monkey.”

  Tightening her coat around her small frame Peyton responded by saying, “That’s gross.”

  “No, it’s not literal,” he began but then seriously doubted Peyton was interested in the origin of the colloquialism.

  (Cannonballs used to be stored on old ships in brass frames called monkeys. If the weather got cold enough the brass contracted and it would freeze the balls off the brass-framed monkey.)

  Instead Big Leonard simply stated, “Shouldn’t be this cold.” Passing an old thermostat on the wall he flicked it and told her, “The thermostat says the heat’s on but it’s gotta be below freezing in here.”

  Stamping her feet for warmth she asked, “So what do we do?”

  Big Leonard thought about this for a second, shrugged. “Thermostat’s got to be wrong. First let’s try relighting the furnace.”

  Peyton rubbed her shoulders and the frigid temp cooled her sighing breath. “How do we do that?”

  “Before we do anything, we gotta build up the water pressure before firing up the boiler. At least we have plenty of light down here.” The moment he said it the single light-bulb began to flicker. “Great. That’s all we need,” he muttered grumpily. “This is going to be a lot harder if I have to do it in the dark by flashlight.”

  They entered a big open area in front of an oversized steel boiler with thick riveting. He scratched his beard and whistled. “Boy-howdy, they don’t make ‘em like this anymore.” He took a mighty step forward, the tip of his hard hat striking the overhead bulb hanging down by a cord. He flinched out of fear of breaking the single bulb and didn’t move as it swung back and forth casting light to and fro. “Better turn on your flashlight just in case,” he said to Peyton sheepishly.

  When Peyton didn’t respond he turned around. His first clue that something was wrong with her was when he saw beads of sweat on Peyton’s forehead. The light from the single bulb swung the light away from her face. As it did he could see her eyes ignite like white hot fiery orbs. Goosebumps rose on every inch of his body. When the light revealed her once more, he could see in an instant her facial expression was feral, her eyes were now bristling with hate and blinking madly, and she began muttering incomprehensible words in a guttural animalistic tone.

  “Oh no!”

  In response to his outcry, a baying laugh gurgled from her throat.

  He immediately started backing away from her. Of course Peyton was harboring a demon. It made perfect sense. She was the only survivor on the bus, not a scratch on her while all of her classmates had been brutally mutilated. How else could Peyton have stolen Becca’s gun out of their room and still leave the door locked and barricaded from the inside? Why didn’t he see it until now? Not until it was too late.

  (You didn’t see that coming? Or maybe, you knew she did, but you were just hoping she wasn’t. Alas poor Peyton, I knew her well. Not really, I just love that little play. Oh while we are on the subject of Shakespeare, he was a she. No, I’m not talking about the lousy lower-class hack she paid to take the credit for her work. She was an English Countess. A remarkable woman, extremely well educated. One of the foremost authorities of literary works in the Jacobean and Elizabethan world. And yet, for all that immeasurable aptitude, skill and talent, she couldn’t take credit for a single word. A tragedy that even she might’ve written. Oh Mary, “Nature has framed strange fellows in her time”)

  “Oh, Big strong Leonard. Don’t look so scared,” she said mockingly. “I’m only a tiny little thing. How could I possible hurt a big… strong… man… like you.” A hammer flew off the tool bench and zoomed toward his head. It probably would’ve killed him instantly but he raised his arm at the last second and it bounced painfully off his elbow.

  Big Leonard let out a yelp in anguish. Backing further away he tossed a chair in front of Peyton’s advancing form. When she whisked the chair violently away with a mere thought he threw another chair in front of her, only delaying the inevitable.

  Singing the words Peyton said, “I think you’re gonna have to do better than that.”

  Spying the exit out of the corner of his eye he turned to leave but the big metal door slammed shut via its own accord. He turned around, and backed up into the door, feeling the cold steel at his back.

  “Do you know where your little pal Jimmy is? You remember your apprentice, right? He’s in hell, cursing your name. Wondering why you didn’t protect him from those nasty coyotes.”

  Still cradling his hurt arm, Big Leonard said, “Peyton, please…please don’t make me hurt you.”

  “Hurt me?” She cackled again. “That’s a laugh.”

  Splaying her fingers like tiger’s claws, she swiped at him. Even though he was a good twenty feet away his head reacted violently with each blow, and bloody scratches were now on his cheeks.

  “Peyton!” he shouted, but another thought from the demon-child forced him up into the ceiling, hitting his head hard and then landing back on the floor. When he tried to get up, a small work table raised up on one side of the room, flew over toward him, and crunched down onto his wrist, pinning him to the floor. A chair crunched down his other arm so in the end he was splayed out on the floor like a thief on the cross.

  Peyton shrieked in malicious rage, and Big Leonard could only watch as she leapt into the air and landed on his chest. He let out a giant HUFFFFF! For a few moments she seemed content to simply sit there like that, perched on his chest like a bird, looking down upon him with hate.

  A smothering stillness hung over the room. Peyton licked her cracked and broken lips with an elongated blackened tongue. “We wanted you, Big, big Leonard but you are just too damn stubborn,” she croaked, or rather the demon inside her did. “I wonder if I can stop that heart of yours. Let’s see.” Peyton then proceeded to jump up and down on his chest, slamming her sneakered feet down on him as hard as possible.

  Big Leonard groaned with pain each time. After this went on for a time she finally stopped and asked him insincerely, “Are you dead yet?”

  Tears of pain, and sadness for Peyton, streamed from Big Leonard’s eyes. “Just be done with it, demon.”

  Still perched on top of him, she cooed, “Oh, the fun is only beginning B.L., and I want you to be around for a little while longer.”

  “Why? What do you care if I live or die?”

  Peyton tilted her head to the side and mocked him with a questioning look. “Why, I thought you knew. No?” She waited for him to answer, and when he didn’t, her face so close to his he could smell her rotting, foul putrid breath. “It’s not enough for us to end you and your fellow apes’ mayfly existence on this world.” Then leaning even closer, so close, Leonard thought she was going to kiss him, she added, “We hunger for your agony.” Then moving away she added with a hint of glee, “Plus, I have so many wonderful things I want to share with you, Leonard. Take your wife for example.”

  Ev
en though he was gasping for air Leonard held his breath to fully hear her words.

  “Oh yes, right about now, poor little wifey is wondering where her big strong Leonard is. But he’s been late before, probably just got stuck on the highway again.” Peyton tilted her head to the side and her gaze seemed to be staring off into the distance. “I can see her right now. She’s sitting on that old crappy couch of yours, quilting Robbie a scarf for Christmas.” Peyton turned her attention back to him. “Isn’t that precious? A quilt for your son. My my...”

  Peyton drew a finger across his cheek, studying him. “You know, it wouldn’t take much for the iron to be left on? And heavens no, there are stacks of paperwork right next to that darn ole iron. Didn’t you tell her to keep flammables off the ironing board for that very reason?” Nodding her head briskly, she said, “Yes. That’s exactly what’ll I’ll do. I’ll burn your little crap-shack of a house down and your little whore along with it.”

  “No,” Big Leonard breathed.

  Peyton nodded briskly. “Oh yes.”

  “Our Father, who art in heaven…” Leonard began.

  Peyton flashed him a sly look. “What are you doing? You have to believe in those words, B.L., and you said so yourself, many times, you’ve always been bit of a fence-rider.”

  “Hallowed be Thy Name…”

  Peyton made a scoffing noise. “Please, you don’t believe in that garbage any more than I do.”

  “Thy kingdom come, Thy will be done, on earth as it is in heaven.” He wasn’t sure, but he thought he felt the table mashing down on his right arm weaken a little.

  “Stop it,” Peyton commanded, but her voice seemed a little less resilient than before.

  This only strengthened his resolve. “Give us this day our daily bread, and forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive those who trespass against us.”

  “Shut up!” Peyton said, and stumbled off of him, covering her ears, stumbling backward.

  Big Leonard let out a mighty groan and ripped his right arm free, and then his left. He poured on with the scripture “…and lead us not into temptation…”

  “You’re a fence rider. You don’t believe in this stuff.” Peyton screamed and then rushed him, but it was a feeble attack, and he easily pushed her back. She stumbled backward a few steps and fell to the ground.

  “But deliver us from evil. Amen!”

  Peyton got up in time only to fly through the air and strike against the wall. She nearly fell to the floor. Mumbling to herself she repeated weakly, “But you’re a fence rider.” And lifting her eyes to him she asked, “What changed?”

  Stepping toward her and towering over her he looked down upon Peyton with pity and sadness, “Because if you exist then HE exists.”

  “Go to hell,” and with her last ounce of strength she extended her small hand toward the tool chest against the wall. Like a Jedi recalling a dropped lightsaber, a screwdriver flew through the air at him. He instinctively flinched but the screwdriver was never intended for him.

  It struck Peyton in her upper chest, barely missing her heart.

  Peyton, the real one, and not the thing possessing her, cried out in pain, “Leonard, make him stop. It hurts!”

  Big Leonard didn’t know what to do. He wanted to shake the demon right out of her.

  “I missed her heart on purpose,” the demon inside Peyton said. “Oh, she’s a fighter too, this one. If we can’t have her, no one can.”

  “Leonard please, help me,” Peyton pleaded.

  The Demon grabbed the screwdriver embedded in her chest and drew it out. She tried to ram it into her own neck but Leonard lurched forward and stopped her, the tip nearly penetrating her jugular.

  Big Leonard wrapped both his hands around Peyton’s wrist and used all of his weight to stop her, and yet, he was still losing.

  “Peyton, I can’t do this alone. You have to fight him.”

  Peyton’s face turned feral once more. “BEEEEP…. Sorry, Peyton isn’t here right now, but if you leave me a message I’ll be sure and give it to her after she’s dead.”

  The tip of the screwdriver broke Peyton’s skin. Big Leonard cried out in a mighty roar and pulled with all his considerable strength but it was only a matter of time before the screwdriver would kill this young girl before him, and the demon inside would claim her very soul.

  “That’s not all,” the demon spat. “When I’m done with little lamby-cakes, I’m gonna kill that fat, ugly wife of yours. And let’s not forget Robbie.”

  There was nothing he could do. He wasn’t a priest. Even if he did manage to somehow keep the demon from killing Peyton and drive it out of her body, the demon would still kill his wife. And that he could not allow.

  (Sorry. But you know what you have to do here, right big fella?)

  “TAKE ME!”

  Big Leonard released Peyton’s wrist but the demon didn’t plunge the screwdriver into Peyton’s neck.

  Big Leonard offered a second time. “I said, take me.”

  Even though the big Lineman had barely uttered the words above a whisper, Peyton immediately stopped laughing. “What did you just say?”

  (Wow. LOL. I was just kidding. I mean, I really didn’t think he’d do it.)

  Big Leonard swallowed, hard. “You said you wanted me. Let’s deal.”

  “I’m listening.”

  “You leave my wife alone. You abandon this poor girl, and you take me.”

  Peyton raised an eyebrow, tilted her face at him and said, “You realize what you’re asking? I mean, there’s no going back. Once you do this, there’s no going back. All transactions are final.”

  Big Leonard nodded. “I know what I’m doing.”

  Peyton’s small, trembling voice begged him, “Leonard, don’t.”

  Big Leonard collapsed to his knees.

  It’s too late, big fella. No backsies. I’m here. Already inside your head. Tee-hee.

  Big Leonard saw the confusion on Peyton’s face, the tears streaming down her cheeks, and then the realization finally sank in. “Oh, Leonard. I’m so sorry.”

  She got up to her feet and then tried to help him to his. “C’mon. I have to help you.”

  “It’s too late. I can already feel him.” He tilted his head to the side and then his face contorted in pain. “Them… I can feel them, squirming around inside my head.” How did this young girl carry this burden for so long?

  Peyton tried lifting him up again but he jerked his arm out of her grasp. “Peyton, listen to me. This isn’t your fault. It’s theirs. You have to save yourself. Don’t let this be in vain.”

  “Maybe Mr. Wally will know what to do?” she said, pleading.

  He shook his head. “You don’t have long.”

  Peyton backed away from him. “But I don’t… I don’t know what to do.”

  Spying a small window near the ceiling he slowly got up to his feet and moved over to it. “Here.” Big Leonard dragged a table beneath the window and then placing a chair on top of it. “Climb out through the window. Storm’s abating. Get to the ambulance.” He grabbed her by the waist and easily lifted her onto to the table. “Do you know how to drive a car?”

  She shimmied through the tiny window and once she was all the way through put her face back in the window. “Of course I know how to drive a car. I’m sixteen!”

  He saw she was freezing so he slipped off his big coat and slipped it through the small window to her. “Take this, it will keep you warm. There are gloves and a warm hat in the pockets.”

  Peyton dragged the coat the rest of the way through the window and eagerly slipped it on.

  “I want you to get to the ambulance, I saw Wally tuck the keys in the visor. You drive to Rapid City and don’t stop for anything or anyone. You understand?”

  “What about you?”

  Big Leonard couldn’t tell her he could feel the demon rooting around in his head like a bore worm. He was fighting it every step of the way, but with each passing second he was losing. “Don’t worry about
me, I’ll be fine,” he lied. “I’m gonna find Becca and Wally and we’ll be right behind you.”

  Pain. Excruciating pain. The Nobel Prize of Migraines. He forced it back down. For now.

  “Now go. Don’t you wait for us. You just go.”

  ‘Tell her. Tell her about the boy.’

  (Who the hell is that?)

  Big Leonard was unsure of who this new voice was inside his head. One thing for certain, it didn’t sound anything like the demons. And if anything, they seemed to shy away from it.

  Peyton, now wearing his oversized coat, hat and gloves, put a hand over her mouth to stifle a cry and said, “Thank you, Mr. Leonard. Thank you for saving me.”

  ‘Tell her now, before it’s too late.’

  (Seriously, did you know about this? Now this really pisses me off.)

  Before Peyton could vanish completely he grabbed her by his coat and said softly, “Peyton, find the boy. Keep him safe.”

  Peyton looked confused. She obviously had no idea what he was talking about. “Boy, what boy?” she asked.

  We’re back!

  “Never mind. Just go.”

  Peyton reached back through the window toward him, and in a gesture far beyond her years, she laid a cupped hand on his cheek. “Good-bye, Big Leonard.”

  He nodded his head and was about to tell her one more time to go but she had already vanished from the small window.

  Okay, Meatbag, now that the little pest is gone, it’s time to really have some fun.

  Chapter 34

  Ashes in the Hallway

  “Did you check all the rooms?”

  Calvin’s eyes were so wide that Becca already had her answer. After Wally had double-checked that the ambulance was still parked outside and she had tried the phones again, and checked the offices for anything useful, they had all rendezvoused back in the lobby.

  “All the motel room doors were wide open,” Calvin said in shock. Becca didn’t blame him. They’d only been in the security office checking cameras for ten minutes, and now everyone else had vanished. “There wasn’t anyone inside any of them. They’re all gone.”