Run the Day

by Davis, Matthew C.

  Holy shit.

  I had my own trouble to worry about; the pig that had attacked me was coming back and bringing a friend with it. The two zombie hogs were circling around to make a rush at me; I didn't have time for anything refined. I was about to be flattened into paste if I didn't do something quickly. The time-spiral I had chalked out on the concrete was abused, but still there, still flickering with lingering energy. I honed in on it and flung myself to the side just as the charging pigs trampled onto the cement. I curled myself into the fetal position as I hit the ground just in case, but death by rotting hoof never came.

  I poked my head up and looked over to see the two pigs; both of them frozen in mid-charge just as they passed over the center of the spiral like someone hit the cosmic pause button on them. Thank all the gods and little fishes for small miracles. I stood, wobbling a bit, and discretely moved away, releasing my hold on the working. The pigs continued their charge and ran across the field. That worked out nicely. Nearby, I saw Hack standing over the charred remains of three of the pigs, their carcasses smoking on the ground. He looked over and saw the others running, and threw a hand out like he was tossing a baseball. His eyes flared up as a crackling bolt of lightning flew from his hand to tear into one of the pigs, tossing its body through the air. Seeing it through the Other spectrum I could see reality fold and tear itself around his hand and the bolt.

  In a flash, Swift was there and tackled into the last of the zombie pigs, a blistering streak of white in his true form. He slammed a fist not just into but through its side and rode it to the ground, where it kicked and squealed and fought but Swift kept slamming that sledgehammer of a fist into it. In a few blows it was reduced to twitching meat. I couldn't help but stare at the spectacular amount of destruction caused between Hack and Swift. It took me a moment, but I brought myself back to the normal side of the spectrum and tried to rein in my breath. My heart was pounding in my chest, and I had collected a number of new and exciting pains.

  "You all right boy?" Hack said, kicking over one of the smoldering pig carcasses and walking over. Swift was close behind, wiping filth and gore off his hands.

  "I'm doing great, thank you. I always wanted to have a stroke before forty." I rubbed at my hip; it was tender, complaining painfully when I put weight on it.

  "Were you able to learn anything?" Swift asked.

  "Yeah, I did actually. Henry was right; the Libro Nihil did come to the valley. And Abel Grannok had it."

  "But Henry and I tore this place apart, we would have found it," Hack said.

  "About that, apparently Grannok had an ally. Some…thing that was helping him, it must have gotten the book out while you were busy dealing with Grannok." I had already begun the hobbling march back to the car. There was too much to do.

  "We never saw anyone else," Hack said.

  I shrugged, wishing I had brought some aspirin when we left the house. I should have known better - it was becoming a growing trend for me to get stomped on during an outing. Grannok's ally, whatever the hell it was, must have surfaced with the book again. Maybe it found someone to pull off the ritual that Grannok had failed. I needed to find that freak, and get the book. And to find it, I needed to know where it was. Looks like I had no choice, I had to go see Devlin, his business be damned. He kept detailed records of every single Other that lived within his domain, paranoid but smart. I'd been trying to talk him into letting me see them for years.

  And he knew Abel Grannok.

  "You'd remember this guy if you saw him, trust me. We have to go to the Red House; I don't care what Devlin's doing, I need to see him," I said.

  We got to Swift's car and within minutes we were back on the freeway heading for Hanford. Something else about the scene I witnessed kept nagging at me, though. Something the thing had mentioned. It sounded like it was scared of it, and Grannok looked like he damn near dumped in his pants when he heard it.

  "Hey Hack, what the hell is a God-Spear?" I got a weird sidelong look from Swift as he drove and a grunt from Hack in the back seat.

  "God-Spear? Not ringing a bell, why do you ask?"

  "Just curious. Mostly," I said and leaned back in my seat.

  I made a practice of knowing about the things that scare the scary types and Grannok and his buddy sounded pretty freaked out that the God-Spear, whatever it was, was approaching. It was always good to know there was something out there that gave the bogeymen a fright, but sometimes that just meant an even worse bogeyman. Either way, this God-Spear thing seemed worth looking into.

  We cut off the freeway and hooked onto a road that carried us a few blocks north of Downtown, into one of the oldest neighborhoods in the city. Some of the houses here had stood for over a hundred years, and the sometimes eclectic mix of architecture made for interesting scenery. Adobe haciendas stood next door to tall white Victorians, old growth trees and expensively manicured flower gardens dominated the yards. The neighborhood also happened to be home to some of the oldest money in Hanford, so it made sense Devlin had made his base here.

  "Maybe I should go in by myself, not sure how Devlin would react to me coming in with muscle," I said as we pulled up to the curb outside the Red House, "He can be a little…unpredictable."

  "Muscle?" Hack asked.

  "I saw what you did to those pigs. That was nuts. Wait here. If I'm not back in ten minutes, blow the place up and give me a good eulogy," I said and got out of the car. Swift killed the engine as I walked up the winding cement path that led to the steps of the Red House.

  It was built along the same lines as the Bastille, two daunting stories of red brick that looked more like a small fortress than a house, fitting for someone who fancied themselves the lord of the land. When it was first built over a hundred years ago, it was one of the first, and most notorious, mental hospitals in California. To add to the somewhat sinister aura, it specialized in child cases. It was shut down shortly after the Second World War when reports of the horrors that went on inside began to gain public attention. It stayed vacant for years, until Devlin Desmond purchased it and renovated it into his humble abode.

  I mounted the steps and went up to the heavy oak doors, there were stained glass windows set into them, fancifully crafted stars in white and blue and yellow. I knocked a few times and waited. After a moment, a shape passed behind the glass and opened one of the doors. She wore a set of nurse's scrubs printed with a pattern of flowers, and she smelled like sunshine. I can't be certain, I was too enraptured by the way the light was highlighting her blond hair, but I think a choir of angels began to sing.

  I really need to start getting out of the house more often.

  "Can I help you?" she asked.

  "Oh god I hope so," I realized what I said and stumbled, "I mean…I'm Thomas Grey, I'm here to see Devlin."

  "Mister Desmond? Oh, you're the man who called earlier. I'm sorry but he's very busy."

  "That's unfortunate, because he might very well be all that stands between order…and total annihilation at the hands of primordial evil."

  I really hoped that didn't come out too over dramatic.

  "Excuse me?" She was beginning to look at me like I was in desperate need of medication.

  "Thomas, I was just about to call you. Sarah, do let him in," Desmond said from inside the house.

  The young nurse, Sarah, looked over her shoulder then back at me. She had bright clear green eyes and was frowning in a way that did nothing to make her less appealing. That's a rare quality in a lady. With a small snort she opened the door and stepped back, letting me in. It smelled like lemons and fireplaces inside.

  "Sorry to barge in like this Devlin, but things have come up and I need answers," I said and looked around as I entered the foyer. Tasteful, that's what the place was. Hardwood floors, rich rugs, oil paintings, those weird lamps with the stained glass shades.

  "Of course, of course. Sarah, be a dear and get refreshments for our guest, we'll be in the study. Thomas, follow me."

&nbs
p; Devlin headed for the winding staircase at the end of the foyer. I went to follow him and caught Sarah giving me a hard look before she turned down one of the nearby hallways. I'd like to believe she was enamored with my ravishing looks, but she was probably just wondering how long she had until she had to call the police.

  Devlin led me up to the second floor and into a spacious office dominated by a massive series of windows that made up the entire rear wall and exposed the garden and sky out back. Busily cleaning that gigantic mass of glass was a woman with a squeegee and dark hair pulled back into a tight bun. The hair on the back of my neck stood on end, the bottom dropped out of my stomach.

  "Excuse me, Senorita Del Olmo, would you mind taking care of the silver now? I have company to deal with." Devlin said to the woman as he moved to take a seat in a leather-backed throne of a chair behind an even more superfluously impressive desk.

  "Si Senor Desmond, no problem," she said, putting her squeegee in the bucket beside her and turning. Her eyes, dark and furious, locked straight onto me and her face screwed into a vicious mask, "Brujo."

  "Hey, Rosa. Good to see you again."

  Chapter Nine

  Rosa stood staring daggers at me and the best I could muster was a haphazard wave.

  She was Devlin's cleaning lady? That's just silly. Devlin sat with a curious look on his wizened face.

  "Thomas, you know Rosa?" Devlin asked.

  "Yeah, you could say that," I said.

  I gave Rosa a large berth and circled around her towards Devlin's desk. It looked like it would make a good barricade, and Rosa looked like she was winding up to tackle me again.

  "This pendejo's dangerous, Senor Desmond. You don't want him in your house," Rosa said.

  "Hold your tone, Rosa. Thomas is a guest here, and will be given a guest's respect," Devlin said, making it sound like an ultimatum.

  He stared gravely at Rosa and she no bullshit met his gaze and held it, for a second. Some of the air went out of her shoulders and she took her cleaning utensils and left the room without another word.

  Devlin shook his head as he sunk into his chair. The thing made him look even more like a defenseless old man, the way it swallowed him up, but his eyes were hard and clear. He leveled them at me after he watched Rosa leave, motioning for me to sit. I took the seat across from him, the guest's chairs nowhere near as comfy as I'm sure Devlin's throne was.

  "And how do you know the fiery Miss Del Olmo?" Devlin asked.

  "We met earlier today. There was a scuffle at the Bastille, and she was caught in the crossfire. I made the mistake of attempting to be chivalrous and do a good deed." Sitting in front of Devlin like this I got a good view of the small rainforest that was his backyard through the picture windows. "I got a mild concussion and the ire of a ferocious woman for it."

  "I did hear about that. I assume it was about the book. Did anything come of it? Have you made progress?"

  "That's why I'm here, Devlin. What do you know about Abel Grannok?" I said, hoping for some kind of shift in Devlin's demeanor but he didn't betray anything.

  "That he was a dangerous psychotic, a mage dealing with forces he couldn't possibly hope to comprehend. And that he is very, very dead," Devlin said.

  "But did you know him?"

  "No, not personally. I had only recently made my way to Hanford, following the railroad's expansion. Times were hectic what with the land purchases, and the land-owner uprisings," Devlin said, he spoke wistfully, eyes looking off somewhere in the past as he spoke, "Hanford was barely more than a loose gathering of farmers and rail workers in those days."

  "So you never actually met him? Did you know he had the Libro Nihil right before his capture?"

  Devlin was dodging giving me a straight answer, he knew something. I had heard the venom in Grannok's voice, Devlin knew him.

  "He did?" Devlin asked, sounding genuinely surprised.

  "Yeah, he did. But he was working with someone, or something, and they got away with it before Grannok was brought down. I need to know who that was, Devlin. And I need to know where your informant got their information," I said.

  "I will assist you to the best of my ability, if it helps your hunt for the book," Devlin spoke carefully, slowly, like he was deliberating whether or not to answer at all.

  Weird.

  That was around the time Sarah, Devlin's nurse, walked into the office with a couple glasses and a pitcher of iced tea. Also weird that Devlin had hired a nurse, it's not like he really was a frail, eccentric octogenarian. She set the glasses and pitcher on the desk, turned on her heel and left, taking the scent of sunshine with her.

  "She's a remarkable girl," Devlin said.

  "The best. Back to business, Devlin. Sorry but I don't have all day, things are unraveling too fast."

  That got a frown from Devlin, but I launched into trying to describe the thing that I had seen speaking to Abel Grannok. His frown just got heavier, and was now coupled with a furrowed brow. He looked genuinely disturbed, even fidgeting a bit as I spoke.

  "Flesh-Thing. Stinking, crawling, lurking creature, I'm not surprised Grannok consorted with it. It was here before even I arrived. It usually hides in the dark of the sewer, only venturing forth to cause havoc. I've wanted that thing's head for decades."

  Sewers, that was pretty awesome. It brought back less than pleasant memories of tracking down the Broken Circle. But I knew now where to start looking for it. I skirted the subject of Devlin's informant, but I could tell there was something he wasn't telling me, something that was obviously upsetting him about this Flesh-Thing creature. I was about to thank Devlin for his time and get the hell back on the trail when the sound of a door banging open came from downstairs, followed by raised voices.

  Devlin was up out of his seat in a flash, moving more fluidly than anyone with that many wrinkles had any right to. He snatched up his walking stick, the thing smoldering an angry orange in his hand.

  "Who dares?" Devlin stomped to the door of his office.

  Obviously, I had fooled myself into believing this was just going to be a simple visit. I was grievously wrong, and I should have known better. I moved to follow Devlin and we came down the stairs into the middle of a melee.

  Rosa had Hack pinned to the floor on his stomach with a cleaning rag around his throat like a garrote; his back was bent in an unbelievable arch as she rode him. His face had turned about as blue as his eyes. Swift stood in the doorway covering his mouth with his hands and trying not to fall apart laughing, and Sarah was standing to the side holding the phone in her hand and her mouth agape. The poor girl.

  "I got him, Senor Desmond. This pendejo ain't going anywhere; I'll break his evil neck," Rosa said, and she totally looked like she would. Hack was flopping, gasping and scrabbling at the rag.

  "Desist at once," Devlin said when he reached the foot of the stairs, knocking his cane on the ground.

  His voice rang out and everyone in the room froze. Rosa immediately let go of the rag and Hack hit the ground like a landed fish.

  "What the hell's going on?" I said.

  Sarah still looked like she was about to call the cops, and Rosa had stepped away from Hack; she was still giving him a gnarly glare. Swift rode out the giggles and straightened himself out.

  "You'd been inside for a while; Hack started getting worried so he kicked the door in. That's when the cleaning lady jumped him. It was like watching a lion mauling a baby gazelle, he didn't stand a chance," Swift said.

  "Just wait…I'll burn her eyeballs out," Hack sputtered from the ground.

  "Hack Spencer, you mad old hillbilly. You went and did it, didn't you?" Devlin asked, moving off the steps towards where Hack was picking himself off the ground.

  Went and did what?

  Sarah had retreated back down the hall, probably to the relative safety of the kitchen or something, and Rosa was packing her cleaning things away and muttering angrily to herself in Spanish. Hack stood, rubbing gingerly at his neck and giving Devlin a mixed
look. It was hard to tell what was going on with Hack, what with the eyes and all.

  "Yeah, I did. You're starting to look wore out, Devlin," Hack said.

  Devlin gripped his walking stick so tightly his knuckles went white and it began glowing again. I took that as my cue and rushed over to Hack, corralling him back towards the door. Swift caught on and made his way out and back to the car.

  "So, thanks Devlin. Sorry about…whatever. If you don't hear from me soon, just assume I'm dead and the world will be ending shortly."

  We were in the car and down the road a ways when I turned around to look at Hack in the back seat where he was looking pointedly out the window.

  "Mind telling me what that was all about?" I asked.

  "Thought we were supposed to be finding the book?" Hack sat in the back, watching the road pass by.

  "We are, but we're not going anywhere till you tell me what the hell's going on. Devlin seemed a bit on the shocked side when he saw you."

  "We don't have time for this," Hack said sharply.

  "Swift, stop the car," I said.

  Swift shrugged and pulled over to the side of the road, a car behind us laying on its horn as it passed. Hack turned to faced me, blue eyes flickering.

  "We're not moving till you tell me what's going on. I know we have some trust issues we need to handle, but I think I deserve to know what the hell's going on."

  "You really want to know? I was dying, Tommy. I didn't have much choice," Hack said.

  Hack was the longest lived mage I'd ever known. When I was just a little boy, my grandpa used to tell me how back when he was just a little boy, Hack was already an old man. And that was like, forever ago. He was like a valley oak, something that was just always there. The thought of Hack dying, of not being there, was difficult to compute.

  "What? What does that have to do with your eyes?" I asked.

  "Not long after you and I had our…argument, all the years of playing fast and loose with reality finally caught up to me. It was burning me out, literally. I was falling apart at the seams. So I found a way to beat it. I merged myself with the greater flow of Creation's energy," Hack said.