Balance - Book 2

by Marc Dickason

  *****

  Minutes later we pulled out of the parking area and merged into the steady stream of civilian vehicles. It was late afternoon. A number of other Enforcers were likewise trapped in the gridlock.

  “Half the Enforcers out here, trapped in this mess,” I muttered.

  “Yes. I don’t think it was accidental either,” Benny replied from the backseat. Perry was beside him.

  The city drew nearer. Eventually, surrounding vehicles began to melt up various side roads. Soon we travelled alone into the city outskirts. All at once the streets were too quiet. Unnaturally so.

  “Where is everyone?” Perry asked. His face pressed against the window.

  “Hiding,” Benny responded. “There’s a storm coming.”

  A convoy of Enforcer vans tore up the road past us. Lights flashed.

  “Wow, look at that,” Perry cooed, “I think I’d like to be an Enforcer when I’m old enough.’ He looked at Benny. “Do you think I could?”

  “Hush now,” Benny responded evenly.

  We continued on. Thoughts were rolling around in my head. They swung back and forth, weighing up odds and judging potential outcomes. In my stomach the flame was rising.

  ‘You’re so close,’ it said, ‘The pot of gold is not far away now. Just over the next hill. Just a few short steps away. Just one more time. Get it done. And put me to rest forever. After that you’ll be done with me. I’ll leave you, be gone from your life forever. We can part ways and you will rest easy. No more nightmares. No more sweats. Just this one last time.’

  “In for a penny, in for a pound,” I said to myself.

  “What?” Benny asked.

  “I want to see in the boy’s head.”

  For a moment the car was silent, bar the metallic humming of the engine. Another convoy of Enforcer vans flew by.

  “Stop the car,” Benny replied.

  “What?’

  “I said; stop the car.”

  “Why?”

  “Now!” His voice turned into a lion’s roar. The boy jumped.

  I pulled the car over. Around us the streets were dead. A nearby petrol station and small café had been closed for the storm. Benny climbed from the car, circled round and opened the other door.

  “Move,” he said to the boy.

  “Benny, what are you doing?” I snapped, jumping out.

  “I’m taking the boy.”

  “What the hell are you talking about?”

  He pulled Perry from the car and slammed the door. “I’m taking the boy. I’ll get him to the D.O.M.”

  They started off up the street. I jogged to keep pace.

  “Benny. You’re acting crazy.”

  He turned on me. His eyes blazed. “I’m acting crazy?! What the hell happened to you, Jet?! This boy is essential! The entire city could rest on what he knows!”

  “This is it, Benny. This is the last step. I know he’s seen my mother. He lived with her, he said so. He will be able to tell me where I can find her. I have to do this, Benny. Please!”

  “No, Jet! You don’t have to do this! You didn’t have to do any of the shit you’ve been doing! All you had to do was wait! All you had to do was let the D.O.M find them!’

  He kept walking.

  “What’s going on?” Perry asked. He looked at us in confusion. “Why are you shouting at each other?”

  Frustration began bubbling. My stomach was alive with fire. I jogged again. In my mind Fran Clarence was again speeding off in her black car, smashing through a fence and disappearing.

  “Benny, for God’s sake will you just stop.” He ignored me. “Benny. Benny!”

  I jumped into his path and he halted. His jaw clenched. I was aware of sounds in the distance now, drifting over from between buildings. Echoing booms, sirens, shouting. Chaos.

  “I need to do this,” I said firmly, “Please. I need to. This is the last step…”

  “Step aside, Jet. You are in my way.”

  “What does he want to do?” the boy asked.

  “Just give me the boy,” I pleaded.

  A figure was beside me. Its tuxedo shone in the brilliant early afternoon sun.

  “I won’t put him at risk, Benny,” the figure added.

  “You know I won’t,” I continued, “I swear it. He will not be compromised.”

  “It will take a few seconds and then we can deliver him together,” the demon concluded.

  It was only then I looked to my side and realised the creature was present.

  “What is it?” Perry whispered.

  Benny’s first blast was lightening quick, testimony to his years of experience. It hit me square and I staggered.

  “You are not fit to wear that uniform,” he growled.

  And I noticed a second figure was taking form just beyond his left shoulder. It slowly solidified from the background. Brent had arrived, an unwelcome guest to an already tense dinner party. Its eyes fixed on me and the tongue, a thick black caterpillar, curled briefly on its chin. In the distance the symphony of violence was drawing nearer.

  I swallowed. “Benny. Your demon has been summoned.”

  The boy looked at the new creature and gaped.

  “We both need to just calm down,” I said, “Lets just deliver the boy…”

  Benny’s lips sneered. He dashed forward, lashing out, and I sidestepped. The punch shot passed my face. I countered with a quick blast to his flank and he went sprawling.

  “Get back to the car, Perry!” I said, turning back to the boy.

  But it was not his face looming at me. An inch from my nose was Brent’s nightmare mask. He stared with dead eyes.

  “Partner…Jet… why did you let me die…?”

  I tried to recoil. But hands were already grasping my blazer.

  “Get away from me!” I heard myself bawl.

  But my shout was drowned out by the one coming from my left. One that rang with bottomless rage. My head spun, glimpsing Benny soaring forward with both feet off the ground. The blow smashed my face like a wrecking ball. An Earth shattering BOOM rocked my world and fluttered my clothing. And all at once the sky was spinning above me. When at last I descended with a jarring impact, tasting blood, I could’ve sworn I’d been airborne for a week. A rough surface sandpapered my cheek.

  ‘This,’ my brain said dreamily, eyes blinking at the sun, ‘is why one absorbs incoming Spirit.’

  I heard rapid footsteps approaching and attempted to stand.

  “Oh shit, Benny! Stop!” I yelled out.

  He was looming over me. Gnarled hands reached down and grabbed my collar. I was pulled to my feet. Over his shoulder I caught a glimpse of Perry running for the petrol station. The Brent-demon watched him.

  The next punch lifted me off my feet, ploughing into my stomach and arching my back. My lungs exploded.

  “You killed my brother!” he roared into my face, “you killed my brother, you son of a bitch!”

  Another blast of Spirit was released, partially absorbed. And I was sailing through the air a second time. A street lamp rushed past. Fireworks exploded in my head. And I was on my back. A BOOM rolled off across the cityscape.

  ‘Holy shit he’s trying to kill me…’ my brain babbled.

  I clawed back onto my feet, lungs bursting and vision blurred. A string of blood dangled from my chin. Twenty meters away Benny was marching again. The Brent-demon kept pace beside him. It mimicked his actions.

  “I didn’t kill your brother!” I screamed, “I didn’t kill him! And neither did you! He killed himself, Benny! You said it! You said that!”

  “You let him die, Jet!” he snarled, “You let him die!”

  I drew up my Spirit and released a bolt. My ribs ached as the energy flowed through my chest. He batted it aside, sending it singing off into his car where it exploded and crushed a side panel. His march continued. I fired again, attempting to pour in more Spirit. But my flailing mind refused to cooperate. He deflected it and was on me, hands grasping for my throat.
/>   “Oh Christ, Benny,” I groaned, “what are we doing?!”

  I grabbed his wrists and we struggled. Stumbling up the road like the worst choreographed waltz in history. Crackling blue sparks swirled and danced, bursting in the air and snapping. Snarling teeth and bulging neck tendons floated before my eyes. His hands locked around my throat and squeezed. My Spirit screamed.

  ‘I’m going to kill him,’ my mind hissed, ‘I’m going to kill him before he kills me.’

  I drew up the Spirit. Gurgles escaped my lips. Eyes on the brink of bursting. And a second from releasing it…

  A familiar sound was drifting from nearby. A maniacal turkey-jabbering. The Brent-demon. And all at once I knew what I had to do. I pushed back and locked my gaze on his face, staring into the two scorching holes where eyes had been. And dove in. He resisted but it was a feeble effort.

  A seven year old Benny was seated at a bus stop. His eyes looked longingly across the street. Above him a gentle morning breeze tousled the leaves of an old oak. A little girl was there. But for some reason she had chosen the bench on the other side of the road.

  Little Benny watched her contemplatively. And finally stood and crossed the road. I watched.

  “Your parents make you take the bus too, huh?” he said.

  Bethany Clarkson stared straight ahead.

  “My dad says I’m too young to take the bus,” he went on, “but my mom says I have to learn.”

  Bethany stood and crossed the road to the other bench. He watched her for a long time, then wiped a tear from his cheek. As if its existence irritated him.

  I leaned forward and spoke into his ear. “She’s not good enough for you. There are better girls.”

  The boy looked up and blinked. I pushed forward. I was now in the living room of our apartment. Julia Kingston was huddled on the couch, her hands clutching at a mess of blonde hair. Benny, crouched beside her, was younger than present by only a few years.

  “There is a creature…” Julia babbled through tears, “There is a creature living in our house, Benny!”

  “What creature?’ he asked. His face contorted with concern. “What are you talking about, baby?”

  “Why are you ignoring it?!” she shrieked, “It’s banging the cupboard doors! Crawling around in the damn ceiling, for God’s sake! How can you not see it!?”

  His eyebrows knitted together. “Julia, honey, I don’t know what you’re talking about…”

  “Oh for God’s sake!” she pulled at her hair. “What is wrong with you?! What is wrong with you, Benny?!”

  I pushed on. A little more, a little more…

  “Thing is,” Pout cut in, drawing back our attention, “That large sums of money generally have a way of having to be from somewhere in particular. Money never comes from nowhere, especially an amount the sum of ten thousand. I had the most interesting phone call earlier today. Can you guess who it was from?”

  Valhalla Hotel. Just a few months ago. Exactly as I remembered it; light on decoration and heavy on sleaze. Benny and I were facing Pout with barely contained terror on our faces.

  I, my double, exchanged glances with Benny.

  “It was from Morris Chapman,” Pout continued, “A good friend of mine and part investor in my company. And it seems he was robbed by two rather brazen men earlier. Two men, who entered into his poker game, magically conned his guests and murdered young Conrad Higgins.”

  There was a silence. Then Sunglasses pushed Brent forward until his thighs collided with the table, causing his body to double over and torso to slam down.

  “Now just wait, wait one second,” Benny said desperately.

  I focused on my double, urging him into action. In response he leapt up and grabbed Sunglasses by the wrists. The gun went off. But the bullet was wide and struck the table beside Brent’s head. He yelped and covered his head.

  “The other men. Stop them!” I said into Benny’s ear.

  He sprang into action and released double bolts, flicking his hand out in quick succession. The two henchmen were flung backwards.

  “Oh, Jesus!” Pout shrieked. He ducked under the table.

  My double continued his struggle. He grunted in effort as he attempted to disarm Sunglasses. Benny came to the aid; a third bolt flew into the side of Sunglasses head. The man went spinning into a cartwheel, leaving the item for which he was named hovering, before it succumbed to gravity.

  “Nice work,” Benny said. He grinned at my doppelganger.

  I watched the scene for a moment, wishing I could leave it there. But knew I couldn’t. Brent peeked out from under his arms.

  “You came for me, brother,” he slurred. His broken mouth twisted into a smile.

  “Course I did,” Benny replied, “Brothers don’t leave brothers in the shit.”

  They embraced roughly. I thought it might be the only one they ever shared. It was time. Pout emerged from behind the table with gun in hand.

  “Shit, look out!” I urged my double to yell, lips mouthing the words.

  My double and Benny fired off bolts simultaneously. But Pout squeezed off a shot as he was flung to the ground. Smoke rose to the ceiling and the room reverberated. Only then did Benny realise where the bullet had landed. Brent stumbled to the floor.

  “Oh shit, oh God,” Benny groaned. He knelt beside his fallen brother. “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be…” I mouthed, Brent said, “You came for me. Did everything you could…”

  Benny covered his eyes.

  I withdrew. Valhalla Hotel was drawn away and faded. The distant sounds of POPS and wailing sirens faded in. Benny was looking at me groggily. His hands relaxed on my throat. I eased out of his grasp and stepped back. Watching, waiting. The dice had been cast. Nearby the Brent-demon still watched. But it seemed different; not as clear as before. Somehow uncertain.

  “You’re going to wait here,” I said to Benny, massaging my neck, “You’re going to wait here one hour. Then you’re going to go to that petrol station and use the phone. If there is not one there, find one. Get taken to wherever Enforcers are and help them. Understand me?”

  He nodded. “Yes.”

  “When Commander Gill asks you, tell him we delivered the boy to the Department of Magic. We delivered him with no trouble whatsoever. And we did it together. Okay? Because that’s what we did.”

  “Yes.”

  “Good. Now walk a hundred steps in that direction. Lie down on the sidewalk and wait.”

  He walked off up the road, counting out loud.

  “One, two, three, four…”

  The demon followed behind him.

  Click, click, click, click, click…

  I watched. Part of me died and would never live again. “I’m sorry, Benny.” My eyes turned to the petrol station. “Ken? Perry? Where are you, boy?” There was no response. I hobbled forward, bandaged hand throbbing, stitches bleeding, chest heaving. “Come out now, its safe. You hear me? Come out.” I stopped outside the petrol station. My eyes scanned its lifeless interior. “I won’t hurt you, Perry. I promise. I just need your help.”

  There was a shuffling and the child emerged from a petrol pump.

  “What did you do to him?” the boy asked, “The other Enforcer?”

  “I changed him. For the better. Now come over here. I need to get you to safety.”

  He hesitated, hands fidgeting. “You want to do something in my head.”

  I hesitated. “Yes.”

  “Oh. Will it hurt?”

  “No. I promise.”

  “You’ll do to me what you did to him? Like that?”

  “You won’t even know it happened.”

  “Oh.” His eyes dropped to the floor. “Why?”

  “I need to find the woman who did this to me. And make her pay.” I raised my wrists for him to see.

  “Oh.” For a long moment he stared at nothing. “Does she visit you at night? The woman?”

  Words caught in my throat. Another echoing boom rolled out across the city
scape.

  “Sometimes,” I replied.

  “I used to have a dog,” he said, “Buddy. But I left the gate open and he died. Sometimes, when I’m trying to sleep, I hear him outside my window. He wants to get inside.”

  The boy crossed over to me and I crouched down, peering into his eyes.

  “You can control him,” I said, “you are stronger then Buddy. Bigger, braver. And he must listen to you. Do you understand? Control him and he cannot harm you. That’s how it works.”

  He nodded. One hand absently wiped away a tear. “I’ll try. Do you control the woman who cut your wrists?”

  “I’m trying, Perry. That’s why I need to look in your head. So I can find her.”

  “Alright. You can look.”

  “Thank you. Now just stay still. It will only take a moment.”