Legion (Southern Watch Book 5)

by Robert J. Crane

  “538 Cokeworth Lane,” Charity said. “It’s two blocks from here, and only across the street from that one’s home.” She nodded her head at Bentley.

  “Very well,” Chester said, nodding once, crisply. “We won’t have much time in a town this small.”

  “We would have more if we dealt with these,” Bentley said, nodding at the children playing on the playground. Another light laugh reached Chester’s ears.

  “We have no time for those bodies,” Chester said, leading his two new additions away from the playground and away from the children, who played without noticing their guardians leaving. “We have much to do.”

  *

  “Nine one one,” Arch said, answering the phone. This wasn’t his job, but with Mrs. Reeve looking like she was ready to fret herself right to madness over the sheriff, he reckoned he was the next person in charge of it. “What’s your—”

  “Is that you, Arch?” It was a woman’s voice on the other end of the line, but he didn’t recognize it straight away.

  “Yeah,” Arch said, frowning. “Who is this?”

  “It’s Lucy Prater.” Arch knew it after the lady spoke again. She had a real husky sound to her. “Hey, Arch, I was just watching TV in the living room, and you know how my house is right across from the playground on Church Street?”

  “Yes’m.” Hendricks gave Arch a funny look for that one.

  “Well, I just saw Evelyn Creek and Brenda Matthews go strolling away with some man I ain’t never seen before, and they left their precious little babies behind. They been gone for about five minutes now, and I stepped outside and there ain’t no sign of them at all. Now, that Evelyn, she watches Abilene Tarley during the day while her daddy works, so we got—”

  “Oh, Lordy,” Arch said and took the phone away from his ear. “Lucy Prater’s saying some man just convinced Brenda Matthews and Evelyn Creek to walk away from their kids at the playground on Church Street.” He could hear Miss Prater still talking, but he was already snapping to get things done.

  “You think it’s our possession demon?” Reeve said, pained, from his place on the cot.

  “Didn’t seem to indicate there was any struggling when they walked off,” Arch said, half-listening to the faint buzz of Miss Prater’s voice in the earpiece.

  “No, there weren’t no struggling, Arch,” Lucy said, loud enough he could pick it out. “They just walked off pretty as you please.”

  “We’re on our way,” Arch said and hung up on her. He glanced at Alison. “You want to come along with me?”

  She was still tangled up with her mother, though she looked none too happy about it. “Sure,” Alison said, pulling free. “Let’s go.”

  “I’ll go with you,” Hendricks said, moving toward the end of the counter in a hurry.

  “Me too,” Duncan said, casting one last look at Lonsdale like he was going to burst into flames or something.

  “I’ll come—” Bill Longholt started to say.

  “Maybe you ought to stay here, Bill,” Arch said, nodding to the man and meeting his eyes as he headed out. He didn’t say it, but he caught Bill’s nod that said he’d figured it out. Fact was, Arch didn’t want to leave the sheriff or any of the others here helpless in case this new demon came calling, looking for his revenge while they were out.

  *

  “We need basics,” Chester said as he and Charity stepped into the woman’s home. “Food, money, whatever means she has available.”

  “Food in the pantry,” Charity said, clearly skimming through the brain. “There are guns upstairs, in the closet. I’ll get them.”

  “I will see to the sustenance needs,” Chester said, breaking off and heading toward the kitchen. “How shall we—?”

  “There are bags upstairs, I will bring them along with the weapons,” Charity said, already on her way up.

  Chester nodded and broke off to go to the kitchen. It was pleasant to be like this once more, as in the days of old when they would freely break apart for a time and then reconstitute later with new experiences. It had not been possible in recent years, especially in light of the purging that had gone on in the days before they had been trapped in the vase. Chester and William had watched with horror as many of their kind, their communities given flesh, had been sent back.

  But their number had escaped it. They had been free. He and William had led them out of—

  Out of danger.

  Chester ransacked the pantry and refrigerator at demon speed, careful not to break anything. He heard footsteps upstairs and knew that Charity was taking care of her part. That was the beauty of sending five or more into a new body; one, alone, tended to regain a certain individuality, and might develop their own ideas about different courses of action available to them. Five or more allowed for control not only of the body and the mind they inhabited, but a certain resistance to individual thinking. They remained a collective, a team, dedicated to a goal.

  In this case, to taking everything they could of value and getting out of this house before the police arrived.

  Charity came thumping down the stairs with a camouflage bag that clearly held some sort of long gun, and two small duffels the size of gym bags. The smell of old sweat wafting from one indicated to Chester what function it had served previously. No matter now, though; he loaded the food into it while Charity opened a cupboard and extracted a cup filled with dollars.

  A squeak of a door behind them heralded the arrival of Bentley, and Chester turned to see the blond body there, along with a male that was slightly taller. He knew it was Mary inhabiting the boy, and a simple nod from each of them was all that was needed before they sprang into action helping to gather up the supplies.

  *

  Brian had watched his mother’s worried exchange with Alison with something just short of the desire to roll both his eyes back in his head for all eternity. She’d been fawning over her precious baby daughter ever since she’d gotten back from her exile trip to the country to fight demons. Brian had been surprised when his mother hadn’t utterly excoriated his dad for lying about knowing where Alison had been, but maybe that had happened sometime when he wasn’t watching. They’d certainly shared a few furtive looks now and again, and not of the good sort.

  Brian watched his dad’s eyes follow Arch, Hendricks, Duncan, and Alison as they headed out to pick up some abandoned kids on the playground. He had heard something said about a possession demon. Bill was watching the departing group with a pretty close eye, and then Brian realized he was really watching Alison, who didn’t seem to take any note of her parents’ anxious gazes. It was about enough to make even him jealous—in addition to making him want to roll his eyes yet again until he died.

  “So … possession demon?” Brian asked, figuring he’d get the ball rolling. “I’m assuming it’s not one that’s been arrested for carrying a dime bag.” He leaned on the counter and smirked, looking across at Sheriff Reeve, who looked awfully pained where he was half-lying, half-sitting on an old cot.

  “Hardly,” Reeve said, cringing from some pain and clutching his side. “We watched a demon that seemed to be able to take over a human body this morning.” He nodded at the new guy, a black man who looked like he was dressed to be an extra on Arrow during a fight scene. “This is Lonsdale. He’s a demon hunter. Oh, and don’t expect to understand what he’s saying.”

  “It’s a real treasure to make your acquaintance,” Lonsdale said.

  There was a moment’s pause, and then Brian laid on the sarcasm. “I think I understood that just fine.”

  *

  Braeden was up to his elbows in his second engine of the day when Tracy came up with the phone. He had her tuck it between his shoulder and neck, mostly as a courtesy to her, because Tracy was going to have to take it and hang it up later. Braeden didn’t give a damn if his shop phone had grease stains all over it, because it was bound to happen at some point, but he didn’t care to fuck up the one in the office that Tracy had to use.

  “Hel
lo,” he said, continuing to work while he was trying to have a conversation, twisting his wrench. Trying to talk while working didn’t always go that well, depending on what was going on in the background of the shop. It was mostly quiet at the moment, though. Tucker had kept his mouth shut since Pike had left, surly as hell, and whatever he was working on wasn’t causing any noise.

  “Braeden, this is Lucy Prater,” came the babbling voice on the other end of the phone. It was kinda low and husky, and Braeden knew who he was talking to immediately, though he hadn’t the faintest why she’d be calling him.

  “Yes, ma’am,” Braeden said, trying to sound polite while he paused to gather his thoughts. It wasn’t that he meant to stop; it was that the mystery of this call put him off for a second. “What can I do for you?”

  “Well, I don’t know if you know where I live, young man, but I’m across from the park, and I just watched Evelyn Creek walk off and leave your little girl behind—”

  Braeden dropped his wrench and heard it clang its way down through the engine until it hit the concrete floor, completely blotting out whatever Lucy Prater might have said next. “Excuse me?” Braeden managed to squeeze out after the clatter of the wrench had died away.

  “I said your little girl is here at the park and there ain’t anyone watching her,” Lucy Prater said. “I called the law to let them know, and Arch Stan is on his way, but I figured I’d let you know, too, since I know Evelyn watches your little girl for you—”

  Braeden’s head was swimming like he’d gone and taken a few real deep breaths over an open fuel line. This wasn’t like Miss Creek. No way would she just walk away from Abi and leave her at the park.

  Then again, a few weeks ago, it wouldn’t have mattered much if she had, because it wasn’t like anything bad happened in Midian up until now.

  “Shit,” Braeden said and dropped the phone. Tracy caught it in surprise, fumbling it slightly but managing not to drop it. “I gotta go to the park.” And he ran right out under the door without even stopping to wash his hands first.

  *

  Arch pulled up against the curb on Church Street as Lucy Prater was walking across the lawn. Arch had her figured as the kind of lady that knew everyone in the neighborhood mostly so she could watch their business and stick her nose in it. She was in her early fifties but trying real hard not to look it, her hair dyed a lustrous shade of black. Only now, minutes after she’d called them, was she walking across the street to come check on the kids. Arch could hear some serious crying going on as he opened the door and got out, the sound of kids who’d realized that there was no one watching them and had started to panic. He figured it’d started with one of them and spread like a virus because now there were three of them wailing to the heavens, and one that was almost a baby that was just looking at the other three like they were crazy as all get out.

  “Damn,” Alison said, slamming her door behind her and taking off for the playground. She jumped the curb and Arch followed, not too quick on his part, since he wasn’t looking forward to getting to the crying kids at all. He kept his eyes peeled for danger, though, and saw pretty much of nothing lurking.

  “This isn’t a real good sign,” Duncan said, calling out to Arch from where he’d parked behind the Explorer. Hendricks had gotten out of his SUV, too, and they were both standing with their doors open, watching Alison head for the kids and clearly not in much hurry to join her. Hendricks, in particular, had a look on his face that was bordering on disgust.

  “Who the fuck leaves an infant to play in a playground like this?” Hendricks threw up a hand to indicate the youngest child. Alison was almost to them now, and Arch could hear her speaking in soothing tones to the kids. The one Hendricks pointed to was the only one not crying. He was sitting in the sand holding a little pail in tiny fingers, alternating his attention between the others and whatever project he was working on. “Cats and dogs shit in that sand, you know.”

  Arch gave that a moment’s thought. “I never thought of that before.”

  Hendricks was moving fast to revulsion. “Even before these ladies took off, they weren’t exactly Mom of the Year.”

  “I hear digging in the dirt is good for your immune systems,” Duncan said, still hanging back. “Makes you less likely to develop asthma. So maybe they’re better than you think.”

  “It’s really fascinating to hear the two of you chuckleheads argue about parenting strategies,” Arch said, trying to keep his eyes nailed to Alison in case something came jumping out at her, “when it’s clear as day neither one of you wants to go over there and pick up a kid to soothe.”

  “We’re gonna go look for the suddenly negligent parents,” Hendricks said, sounding like he was doing some fast thinking.

  “I don’t see you sprinting over there to pick up a tricycle motor and give it a burping, either,” Duncan fired back.

  “Alison needs cover,” Arch said, but he couldn’t help feeling a little ashamed. Kids weren’t quite his thing.

  *

  “Hey,” Alison said, kneeling down in the sand. There were three kids crying in front of her, big sobbing wails, loud as if they’d just had a thunderstorm happen in their ears or found a monster under their beds. “It’s okay.”

  She knew in passing all but one of the kids in front of her. The baby was Charlie Creek and his older sister was Tammi, and standing in front of her in a dress covered in sand with an adorable pair of pigtails was Abi Tarley. She’d seen them all in the store since they were babies. She did the whole mingling-with-the-shoppers thing, trying to be an effervescent personality like her dad. She wasn’t nearly as good at it as he was, but she had gotten to know almost all the town that way. She had her own opinions about Evelyn Creek and Brenda Matthews, especially after she’d heard they both got drunk as hell in Fast Freddie’s last year and needed to be escorted home, but bad parents to the point of abandoning their children? That wasn’t anywhere in what she knew of the two.

  “Miss Cweek left us,” Abi Tarley said, her little face dripping with tears and her frame racking with uncontrollable sobs. She seemed like the spokesperson of the group, and the other two kids let out a wave of whimpering following her pronouncement.

  “Abi, I called your daddy and he’s on his way,” Lucy Prater called out from twenty feet away. She was just hovering over there, apparently trying to keep at a safe distance. Alison looked back and saw Arch doing much the same but keeping it to an extreme that even gossipy old Lucy Prater wasn’t carrying it.

  Abi Tarley stopped crying and made a little sniffling noise instead. “R-really?”

  “I doubt Miss Prater would lie about that,” Alison said, trying to be reassuring and yet still firing a shot at Lucy Prater in the process. She couldn’t help it; she’d never liked that old biddy much. It sailed over Lucy Prater’s head anyway.

  “But … but … where’d my mom go?” Tammi Creek asked, tears streaming down. Alison was wondering exactly why it was she was suddenly having to deal with so many crying, upset, lonely kids. These things happened in threes, though, didn’t they? Hell, that wasn’t going to be any fun if she had another of these crying kid incidents coming up.

  “Sweety, it’s okay,” Alison said, soothing. “My husband’s over there, and he’s a policeman.” She waved Arch over frantically, and he started to walk toward her, though a heck of a lot slower than she would have preferred. “We’re going to find your mommy. We think she just went to check on something and figured she’d be back real quick.” How were you supposed to tell a pre-school kid that their parent got possessed by a demon, anyway?

  Alison listened to the sobs fade and picked up Charlie Creek under his armpits. He let her quite willingly, staring right into her face with interest, his big brown eyes looking into hers, his cheeks as red as if she’d given him a good pinch before she’d picked him up. She lifted him up on her hip and braced him there, against her side. It felt pretty natural once she got the weight balanced right, and she wondered why Arch and Hendricks
were working so hard to keep their distance from this.

  *

  Arch started across the playground when he saw his wife beckon. “You oughta join me over there,” he said over his shoulder to Duncan and Hendricks. “Do your share.”

  He didn’t bother to watch for the answer, knowing it was coming. When it did, it was chock full of the discomfort he’d expected from Hendricks when he’d raised the possibility: “We should … go investigate the address you gave us. See if we can find the mothers of these kids,” the cowboy said, and Arch could practically hear Duncan nodding along without even turning around.

  *

  “That’s all we should take for now,” Chester said, looking at his little de facto army around him. They had loaded up a few big bags, and were now across the street at the other house, the one Bentley had cleared with the fifteen year-old. They were loaded with many burdens, and Chester already had a solution in mind for what should be done about it.

  “We could use a few more things,” Charity said, shooting him a glance that he knew instantly how to interpret—quiet suggestion with an utter willingness to throw out that option without ego or reserve should the collective decide to.

  “We can pick them up later,” Chester said, agreeing without agreeing. “We need to secure transportation.” He looked over at the boy who was being controlled by Mary. “Does your teenage form know how to drive a car?” Mary shook her head and he immediately passed back to Bentley. “It’s you, then. Try the neighbors behind this house.” And he pointed out the kitchen window.

  Bentley nodded and left without another word. The rest of them worked in the quiet of the kitchen to gather things together and start moving them out the back door. This would need to happen quickly.