Offspring

by Liam Jackson

  "After I left the crime scene, I went home for the day. That evening, I saw a story on CNN about a bizarre murder aboard a plane bound for Knoxville. A jet full of passengers and no one hears or sees anything. The details were sketchy, but there were eerie similarities to the motel murder back in Lexington. I just got the feeling that everything was somehow connected. That's how I met Mark."

  Finally it was Mark's turn. He spoke easily of his time in the military, and his stint in prison. Candidly, Mark told them of the voices that urged him to leave Florida and travel to Tennessee. It was on this point that Sam stopped him.

  "You said 'voices.' You mean you hear more than one?"

  Mark nodded. "Yeah. Sometimes, it's like a stadium full of people, all yammering for attention, but basically saying the same thing. At other times, it's only a few, maybe three or four. I thought... I thought I was going crazy."

  "Man!" said Sam. "I can't begin to imagine what it must be like to deal with more than one voice at a time. Bet it never gets lonely in there," Sam said, tapping the side of his head.

  Mark grinned. "Yeah, well, from what you've told us, it seems you've had your little friend since childhood. Maybe that's why you only have one. They waited thirty-five years to visit me."

  "Sorry for the interruption. Go on."

  Mark's expression turned solemn. "I was married. My wife—she died while I was away on business, leaving me with two kids... twin girls. I haven't seen them in several years. Back at the motel, when I looked into that freezer... I—I saw—" Mark couldn't finish. He stood up and walked a short distance into the shadows and sat down on the bare concrete.

  Janet looked at Sam and said, "Every man has his silver bullet or Achilles' heel. Mark met his back at the motel. Dear God, it was horrible... just..." She left the words hanging in the air, and after a moment, she arose from her seat and joined Mark in the shadows.

  While Sam watched the odd pair, he realized something else. It was irrational to be sure, but he now felt responsible for them both. He had even tried to discourage Mark from coming with him to Abbotsville, arguing that there would likely be more encounters with the Enemy. He also explained that his family had probably reported him as a runaway and that going to the police for help was out of the question. For some reason, Mark seemed relieved by that, but he didn't offer an explanation and Sam didn't ask.

  When Sam suggested to Mark that he rethink his plan to come along, Mark made it clear the decision wasn't his to make, that he didn't have any choice in the matter. They mutually agreed that Janet should return to Lexington. The events at the Blue Bird Motor Court provided a possible explanation for the nationwide epidemic of missing children and the supernatural implications were almost too terrible to consider. Through her newspaper, Janet had access to the major news wires and might be able to gather critical information. Now, she just had to find a car. Even if her Toyota had survived the fire, which wasn't likely, going back to the motel was out of the question.

  A few minutes later, Janet said, "Fess up, Sam. You know the owners of that store, don't you?"

  Sam nodded, "Yeah. I mean, I kinda know someone that works there. A friend, Charlie Hastings."

  Janet gave him a knowing smile and squeezed his arm. "I see. Well, I'm sure that your friend is fine. Do you have another way to check on her, to see if she's okay?"

  Mark looked at Janet, then Sam, a confused expression on his face. "Charlie is a her?"

  Sam smirked. "Think you're pretty smart, don't ya? What makes you think Charlie is a her? Nah, don't bother. You're right. And yeah, I'll find a way. Her dad owns some kind of sporting-goods store out on Highway One-oh-four. We're going right by it on the way out of town anyway. Maybe I can learn something then. But first, there's something I have to tell you both."

  Sam leaned against a dirty brick building and massaged his elbow. It was hurting like hell from his fall in the street. Mark and Janet waited expectantly.

  "Back there, near the fire... I smelled them. The Enemy, I mean. The odor was strong, and I mean real strong. It wasn't exactly the same either. I've smelled them before, lots of times, but nothing quite like this."

  Mark arched an eyebrow, glanced at Janet from the corner of his eye, then back at Sam. "I'm sure not going to second-guess you, kid... but do you mind explaining what you mean when you say, 'I've smelled them lots of times'? Can you always smell those things?"

  Sam shrugged and tested his arm. It was feeling a little better. "I mean just that; I can smell 'em. Or maybe, I just sense them or something. But, like, when I get close to one, I get a little dizzy, then sick to my stomach. And there's this weird odor, like dog shit and rotten eggs, and my mouth gets this metallic taste. It only lasts for a few seconds. I've been able to do that for as long as I can remember, but I didn't know what it meant until a few days ago."

  Mark looked at the boy with an unreadable expression. Sam was afraid the man was going to laugh at him.

  Instead of laughing, Mark nodded. "Good. That's good. It's going to come in handy one of these days. Uh, how close do they have to be before you can smell them?"

  "Hmm... not sure. I mean, I'm usually pretty close when I smell 'em. A city block, maybe. Back there... well, the odor was strong, almost made me puke. But, the odor smelled old. It could be from this morning, or last night. I couldn't tell. I just know that whatever it is, it's powerful and it's gone."

  "Did you smell the thing that chased us from the motel?" asked Janet.

  Sam nodded and said, "Oh, yeah. That's the strongest odor I've ever smelled. The thing back at the store smelled different. The other effects—the dizziness and nausea—weren't as bad, but the odor was rank."

  Sam sighed and rubbed his eyes. "Look, I know I'm not making any sense. You've just got to trust me that I know what I'm talking about. I can smell them, sense them, and one of those things was at that store just before it burned. Or maybe, while it burned. I don't know which. But it was looking for me. It's hunting me and if it hurt Charlie, it's my fault! If she's... if it hurt her... I don't know what I'll do." Sam avoided any mention of his ability to reach. Something told him this was neither the time or place.

  "Don't worry, kid," Mark said casually. "I bet she's fine. Right now, we've got more important things to worry about."

  Janet elbowed Mark sharply. "Well, thank you, Mr. Sensitive!"

  "What? What did I say?" he stammered.

  "Oh, never mind! Despite your lack of tact, I can't disagree with you. Sam, I'm freezing and I'm hungry. After we eat, I'll find a rental agency and grab a car. And I'll have to call my office."

  Sam gave her a worried look and she grinned. "Don't worry. I'm only checking in. Otherwise, they'll sic the hounds on me and we don't need that. We can check on your friend on the way out of town. Sound like a plan?"

  "Yeah, sure."

  A few minutes later, as they passed through another intersection, Mark looked to his left and exclaimed, "Hey! There's an Exxon sign, three, maybe four blocks down. We can get in out of the weather, and maybe find a phone."

  Sam looked down the street, but there was no sign in sight. Either his eyes were going bad, or that sign was a hell of a lot farther than any four blocks. He looked at Janet, but she only shrugged and shook her head.

  Sam shook his head and grinned. "We'll take your word for it, Mark. Lead on."

  Mark led the way, with Janet at his elbow. Sam hung back a few steps and watched the pair as they shared a quiet laugh at some joke. In one way, he was glad to see it. In another, it made him nervous. Sam knew the respite was temporary at best, and that any sense of safety was illusionary and dangerous. He was also worried sick about Charlie and silently vowed to check on her as soon as an opportunity presented itself.

  Exactly twenty minutes and eight blocks later the trio entered through the front doors of the Haviland Boulevard Exxon Superstore, a busy truck stop situated one block from the interstate. Sam thought that it was all more than just a little coincidental that Mark had spied the stor
e from eight blocks away, but he was too grateful to care. He was even more grateful for the Car-Smart rental agency, situated one block over from the truck stop. Maybe fate decided it was time to cut some slack. Sam could only hope.

  The truck stop was busy with customers and the aroma of deli fried chicken and strong coffee filled the interior. Wearing the widest smile Sam had ever seen, Janet pulled a Visa card from her wallet. He thought she looked like a kid who had just stumbled across Wonka's chocolate factory.

  Holding the card out in front of her, she said, "Dig in, boys! Soup's on!"

  CHAPTER 33

  New Orleans, Louisiana

  Soft light refracted through a hundred multifaceted crystals that dangled from the antique chandelier. The walls and vaulted ceiling were alive with dancing, shimmering faux stars. A fitting room for royalty, thought Theo.

  Seated at the head of the long ornate table, the Runner selected a plump oyster from an oval platter and drenched it in the juice of a freshly quartered lemon. With a smooth, elegant gesture, much too quick for the human eye, he raised the half-shell to his lips and slid the oyster down his throat. He washed it down with a long drink from a bottle of domestic Corona.

  "Why do you drink that swill?" asked Theo, genuinely curious. "Surely, there's a more palatable beverage down in the cellars."

  The Runner considered Theo and his question for a moment, then smiled.

  "Theo, dear, sweet Theo... you've just never learned to properly appreciate the simple pleasures of this world. And that's the real issue here; simplicity. When I remake this world, Theo, the underlying theme shall be 'simplicity in all things.' In other words, simple pleases me, and if something pleases me, it's allowed to exist."

  "And what of the things that displease you?"

  The Runner chuckled. "Theo, why ask me such a question? You already know the answer. Now, what news have you? By your presence may I assume you've carried out my instructions?"

  Theo shifted in the chair, enjoying the creak of thick, supple leather. He wished that he had more time to fully appreciate the sound, yet he was afraid that his time might be in short supply. There was a good chance that the next few minutes might be his last on Earth. He sighed heavily and absently rubbed his temples. Finally, he looked at the Runner.

  "I have. The Host is deprived of a Cherubim and we are clearly on the offensive. Several additional Host have been tracked down and eliminated. However, I won't lie to you. Not all of the Brethren are pleased with the open warfare. They can't understand why you don't just allow the status quo to continue. Most of all, they're afraid that you're making a grave mistake in allowing Legion to cross over in such numbers."

  The Runner's eyes hardened, and Theo saw scarlet flames dancing within them. Then, as quickly as the flames had appeared, they vanished and the Runner smiled. The seductive smile of a viper poised to strike.

  "Theo, are you telling me that some of my flock has strayed? Perhaps they no longer trust my leadership. Is that it, Theo? That would be a bad thing, Theo, a very bad thing."

  Theo squirmed again, this time unaware of the sounds of wood and leather. "We are so few and there is so little left to us. Some... some are afraid that you are risking that, as well."

  "I grow weary, Theo. You obviously have some very specific concerns. Why not just speak and be done with it? All this dancing about... you see? This is exactly the sort of thing I abhor. There's no need for all of these word games! I won't tolerate subterfuge, unless of course, it's of my own design."

  The Runner paused to finish off the beer and call for another. A young woman, barely out of her teen years, entered the dining room, her head bowed and eyes locked on the hardwood floor. She sat a fresh beer in front of the Runner and gathered up the empty bottles.

  Never lifting her eyes from the floor, she asked "Will there be anything else, lord?"

  The Runner didn't answer, and instead dismissed her with a casual flick of elegant fingers. She crept on the balls of her feet, cringing at the slightest sound of her bare feet on wood.

  "Now, dear Theo. Tell me... everything."

  Theo sighed. This wasn't going to be easy, but there was no way to avoid the issue. "You want the unbridled truth, then you shall have it. Let us start with the Host.

  "Dozens of them have been hunted down and Unmade. I can't give you an exact number, but it's believed that less than five hundred remain. Many, as you know, were called back and are even now engaged in battle at Heaven's Gate. The Usurper has a significant number of followers, even more than we first suspected, and this looks to be a long, protracted war."

  The Runner smiled, obviously pleased and his eyes now sparkled like brilliant emeralds. "Heaven truly under siege. This is excellent news, Theo! More, if you please."

  "By your leave, Legion passes through the Veil and are wreaking considerable havoc, worldwide. They've even helped us to track down several of the Host.

  "The Host may be badly depleted, but they continue to hold their own. Still, I can't see how they can manage much longer, not with so few of them and our own numbers augmented by Legion. The conclusion is inevitable. It's all but over for them."

  Over. The word reverberated through Theo's mind, even as it left his tongue.

  The Runner paused to consider Theo's report, enjoying the promise of a swift, sweet victory. It had been long in coming, so very long. But this current campaign was only the beginning. It was but a single brushstroke in a much larger mural. If Theo only knew.

  "Now that Heaven is besieged, the Host pose no real danger. The key to final victory lies in breaking the spirit of humanity, Theo. The children, Theo, it's all about the children.

  "Loose Legion to feed upon them, crush them indiscriminately like rodents beneath your heel. That is how you break the will of Man. Once that is accomplished, I will own them, heart and soul. Strip them of all hope, of faith and of saviors and heroes. Then, and only then, the cattle will lick the dust from my feet.

  "Think of it, Theo! The Host of Heaven decimated and in ruin; the Usurper battered and broken against the wall, rendered impotent and easily destroyed at a time of my choosing. And Legion at my feet, playing the part of loyal lapdog! There'll be nothing left to oppose me on this plane."

  "Now that you've loosed Legion, will there be anything left to salvage? Will we eventually have to fight them as well? Surely this alliance cannot last forever."

  Theo held his breath and waited. He knew the questions bordered on impertinence and could cost him his life, but he had to ask. The Brethren were concerned, and Theo figured they had good reason. Surprisingly, the Runner didn't seem to take offense.

  "The Usurper and the Host will decimate each other. As for Legion, I'll deal with them all in good time. You forget, I still control the Veil and deny the greatest of Legion access to this plane. The Nine Princes of Sitra Akhra may not pass. I only allow the lesser demons to enter through the Veil, and those I can control.

  "Legion serves as my vanguard, Theo. They will carry my war to the innocents, but only to the degree I allow."

  Theo said nothing, dreading the question that he knew would come. He hadn't long to wait.

  "And speaking of war, what of my other lieutenants??"

  Here it comes. Theo swallowed hard and looked squarely at the Runner. If this was to be his last moment in existence, he would spend it with dignity and what little, if any, grace he had left.

  "We lost several Heralds and Authorities. The Powers still number one hundred and eleven and are working in concert, searching out pockets of the Host. One of your Dominations, Mithaneal, is missing in the Netherlands. The Brethren continue to reach for him, but nothing yet. The other orders have suffered no losses at this time."

  The Runner absently scratched his chin. "The news concerning Mithaneal displeases me. He was very powerful... for a Domination. Continue."

  "Legion has taken advantage of your generosity and searches out the Offspring. Of course, I would prefer they abandon that useless vendetta, and
assist us with destroying the last of the earthbound Host." Theo paused to drink deeply from his goblet. When he finished, he dabbed the corners of his mouth with a linen napkin and continued.

  "I do not pretend to understand Legion's preoccupation with the Offspring. After all, the Offspring bloodline is thinned to the point of near extinction."

  The Runner smiled. "It isn't necessary that you understand, Theo, but I will answer your question with a question. Why now, after all these many centuries, do you suppose the Offspring emerge in numbers?"

  "I couldn't really say, lord. I suppose He has some plan for them?"

  "A nice supposition, and not without merit. However, the truth is somewhat more complicated. You see, dear Theo, the Veil cries out, calls to them. And the Offspring answer like dumb sheep. They have no idea why they answer, or what the consequences may be. They are damned, either way. First, they must get past Legion, and Legion hates them beyond reason."

  Theo nodded and said, "I must admit the demons of Legion are doing a splendid job of eliminating the bastards... until recently. Are you still sure the demons are up to the task?"

  The Runner's eyes narrowed and a rare crease developed across his high forehead. "You're avoiding my original question. Why is that, Theo? Is there a problem with my lieutenants?"

  "Oh, a bit more than a problem, I should say. As I said, Legion has been hunting out the Offspring. At your command, our lesser Brethren, mostly Thrones and Principalities, have assisted in the search. It also seems one of the Dominations decided to join the hunt. Against your orders, I might add."

  "And who might this Domination be?"

  "Axthiel. I suggested he speak with you before committing himself to the hunt, but you know how independent Axthiel can be at times. He ignored my advice."

  "He did, did he?" There was a dangerous edge in the Runner's voice.

  Theo coughed, then reached across the table and took the Runner's beer. The Runner watched with a mixture of anger and amazement as Theo turned up the bottle and drained it of its last drop.