I huddled inside my winter coat, my hands jammed into the pockets. I was watching as the other members of the OF team siphoned gas out of the tanks below an Exxon station. Across six lanes of empty street, a Target store squatted, a remnant of life before the power outage. Its windows were cracked and broken. The parking lot was littered with twisted carts and abandoned cars.
The gray sky spit and swirled snow flakes at us. We were alone.
I hoped.
One of the guys on our team emerged from inside the Exxon. The original door was shattered, leaving a gaping dark hole as an entrance. He was holding handfuls of candy bars. I thought his name was Kieran. He loped across the Exxon parking lot to me, offering me a KitKat.
I shook my head.
“You more of a Hershey’s Almonds girl?” he asked, sorting through the candy bars to find one.
“Snickers,” I said, taking the one I saw peeking out of his jacket pocket.
“Hell, I was saving that for myself,” he said. “It was the last one.” I offered it back to him, but he shook his head and grinned at me. “You can have it.”
The Snickers bar was cold. My hands were numb, and I struggled to open the wrapper. Kieran took it from me and opened it. He handed it back.
“You look cold,” he said.
I shivered. “I’m fine.”
“I could go across to the Target and look for some gloves or a scarf or something for you,” he said.
I took a bite of the Snickers bar. It was nearly frozen and brittle, but still sweet. I chewed and swallowed. “I’m fine, really,” I said. “Thanks for the candy bar.”
“Your nose is red,” said Kieran. “You look like—”
He was interrupted from what I was sure wouldn’t have been a flattering comparison by a gun shot.
We both started forward in the direction of the sound. There was a group of about twenty locals marching up the empty street. They were carrying shotguns. Wonderful.
“Damn it,” I said.
“Damn it,” said Kieran.
We exchanged a look.
Since I was here to be the negotiator, I had to go and talk to the locals. Mournfully, I glanced down at the Snickers bar. I’d only had one bite. However, I didn’t think the people with shotguns would take me very seriously if I was chewing on a candy bar. I thrust the Snickers at Kieran and jogged to intercept the mob.
“Stand down!” I called as I approached. “This is an official government squad. We’re just following orders.”
The locals neither stood down nor stopped walking. I planted myself in front of them, in the center of the road. I’d try logic. Sometimes logic worked. “Our weapons are more sophisticated than yours and we’ve all been trained,” I said. “If you try to engage us, you will lose. Why don’t you all just go home?”
There was a man in the front. He stopped and motioned for the others to stop walking. He stared me down. “Who are you, girlie?”
Girlie. Seriously? I clenched my teeth. “I’m the only one in this team whose job it is to be nice to you people. Those guys—” I jerked my head towards the men siphoning gas— “don’t talk. They shoot.”
“Well, maybe we don’t feel like talking either.” The man fired another gun shot into the air for emphasis.
Oh. This was perfect. This was really perfect. “For your own safety,” I said, “I really must insist that you disband and return to your homes.”
“You’re stealing our gas,” said the man.
“We are taking possession of fuel in order to get west and get help,” I said. “The government needs this fuel in order to help the country.” No one seemed to believe me anymore when I said things like this. Maybe it was because all the teams we’d sent west thus far had disappeared without a trace. No help had come. Maybe it was because it was winter, and everything seemed gloomier and gloomier with each passing gray day.
“We need the gas,” said the man. “What are we going to do while the government steals our fuel?”
“I thought those Order of the Fly assholes were magical, anyway,” yelled someone else within the mob of people. “How come they can’t just magic up some gasoline?”
“Yeah,” chorused several other voices.
Uh oh. This was getting worse. The last thing I need was a bunch of people yelling and complaining. Especially if those people were all holding guns. Things were going to get ugly fast, unless I used my magic. But I didn’t want to. In Tennessee, all of those people floating in the river had gotten there because of my magic. Even if these people were planning on shooting all of us, I felt guilty about manipulating their minds.
Maybe I wouldn’t hear the voice. Maybe things wouldn’t get out of hand. Maybe if I was careful—
But I didn’t have more time to think, because the man leading the mob raised his shotgun into the air and yelled, “Charge!”
Before the stampede could start, I reached inside myself and uncapped the container holding my magic. As always, it flowed into my entire body, making my limbs tingle and the back of my head feel like bubbles were rising up my spine. I could feel the hazy focus of the minds of the mob.
They were angry and scared. They wanted to hurt us, because they were hurt and there was no one else to blame.
I tried, as I always did, to simply quiet them. I tried to quench their anger and calm their fears.
But my power never seemed to work that way. It was as if it fed on anger and fear. As if it could only cause pain and destruction.
Within seconds, I realized it would be easier to simply redirect the mob’s fear. I pulled the focus away from our team and placed the focus on the Target. The store was already destroyed. How much worse could they make it?
The mob howled and took off towards the store, guns at the ready. They began to pump bullets into the store’s windows. Glass shattered. A hole appeared in the target emblem on the side.
Bullseye.
I couldn’t help but laugh. It was appropriate, I guessed. They needed a target for their anger, why not Target?
Maybe it was the laughter that brought the voice. Maybe it was just the magic. I didn’t know. But it spoke to me in scaly whispers, a voice that came from a deep, dark, musty place. Human targets , it said.
Before I could stop myself, I found myself picturing the people turning on each other, emptying their shotguns into each other’s chests. I tried to turn off the image, to think about Target, to refocus them on the store, but the images had taken hold of my brain.
The locals began to snarl at each other.
No. No, stop it. I struggled with the magic. I’d stuff it down, back inside me, if I couldn’t control it. I reached out for it, trying to pull it back to my body. It wouldn’t budge.
The man who’d been the leader shot one of the local women in the head. Her skull exploded in red gore, and she toppled to the pavement. Another man shrieked and shot at the leader. Two red holes burst through his chest. He fell to his knees, clutching at his wounds before crumpling to the ground.
I yanked as hard as I could on the magic, drawing it back closer to me. But I was too late. The parking lot in front of Target had erupted into a shooting frenzy. Bodies danced as they were riddled with gun fire and thudded on the empty lot.
I bottled the power back up, capping it tightly. I was shaking. This always happened. This always
happened. I couldn’t use this magic anymore. Not if this was the result.
Grimacing, I took one last look at the carnage across the street. Then I looked away, ashamed.
Chapter Ten
I froze, horrified. Jason grinned at me, an awful grin. And then he walked past me, following his men back into the camp. Now that the people had cleared out, I could see the damage I’d caused.
There were bodies lying on the ground. Those men were dead, not because of a fight with the people they’d come to fight, but because I’d twisted their brains and forced them to turn on each other. Jason had stopped them from all killing each other, but he hadn’t
been able to stop everything I’d done.
I stumbled forward, running to the first man I saw. I knelt next to him. His eyes were wide open.
Blood stained his slack lips, twisted in an expression of agony. I threw myself to my feet and ran to the next man. He was dead too, lying face down on the ground. His blood spilled out of him, turning the grass crimson. There was a man beside him, his neck twisted unnaturally. No, on closer look, he was hardly a man. He couldn’t have been more than fifteen years old. The sparse blonde hairs on his upper lip gave his youth away. I rushed from one body to the next, hoping to find someone alive, someone I could save, but they were all dead. Dead bodies. Dead, because I was jealous of Jason’s new girlfriend.
What kind of sick monster was I, anyway?
I stood in the middle of the empty battlefield, my shaking hands pressed to my lips. What had I done? I hadn’t wanted to kill anyone else. I hated hurting people. Why hadn’t I had one moment of regret, one second to consider these men’s lives while I was toying with them? I let out a little gasp. I couldn’t handle this.
I stumbled past Hallam, Marlena, Kieran, and the rest of them. I walked all the way back to the church. Kieran had parked the Subaru in front again, where it had been before. I got inside. No keys. Darn it. I sat back against the driver’s seat, pulling the door shut after me.
What had I done?
I sat in the car, turning it over and over in my head, the way you do when you can’t shake a horrible thought. I tried to make excuses for myself. I was angry. I wasn’t thinking clearly. If I hadn’t done what I’d done, then Jason’s people would have hurt Hallam. But I knew that I hadn’t done it for them. Not really. I’d done it only because I was angry at Jason. I’d used those people as my weapon against him. That wasn’t the right thing to do. That was clearly the wrong thing to do. Why did I have this kind of power when I was so clearly unable to use it responsibly?
The things I could do…
I could rule the world. Everyone would fear me, because I could make them do things they didn’t want to do. And no one would be able to stop me.
I realized it then. It cut through me like ice, chilling me. The voice. I hadn’t heard the voice once today.
Did that mean that I was the source of its perverse orders and visions, not the magic itself? Did it mean that all the horror I caused came directly from my own brain? I shuddered.
The worst thing was that I could have gotten that grimoire, and I could have completely neutralized myself as a threat. But I’d been distracted by my own anger and now the damage was done.
It didn’t take long for the others to get back to the church.
Kieran noticed me in the car and came around to the passenger side. He tried the door. I’d locked it, so he just tugged at it.
“Go away,” I told him.
He pounded on the window. “Let me in.”
Kieran sighed heavily. Hallam and Marlena peered in at me.
“What do you suppose she’s upset about?” Hallam wanted to know. “She was fabulous. Without her, we would have been slaughtered.”
“Let me talk to her,” Kieran said.
Forget it. I wasn’t talking to anyone.
After a little more conversation, Hallam and Marlena went inside, leaving me with Kieran. He stood outside the car. “I’m not leaving,” he said. “Not until you talk to me.”
I scrunched down in the seat. I did not want to talk to Kieran. Why couldn’t everyone just leave me alone?
Kieran pulled the keys to the Subaru out of his pocket with flourish. Great. He opened the passenger door and got in the car next to me.
“I don’t want to talk,” I said.
“You’re mad at yourself because of using magic, right?”
“Did you see all those people who were dead, just lying on the ground there? I did that. I made them shoot each other.”
“They were going to shoot us.”
“Whenever I do magic, it always leads to destruction and death,” I said. “I’m sick of it. I’m sick of hurting people. I don’t want anyone else to die because of me.”
“Azazel, stop blaming yourself. You did what you had to do,” he said.
“I didn’t have to do that,” I said.
“They were like that mob in Virginia. You stopped them from hurting anyone.”
I flashed on the bodies in the blowing snow, their blood freezing on the parking lot. So many dead men. I didn’t want to think about it anymore. I banged my hands against the steering wheel.
“I wish you’d just go away.”
“I know you do. And I will, if you really want to be alone. But first, tell me why you think your power is so horrible.”
I sighed. “It’s just always done horrible things,” I said.
“I think it’s a matter of perspective,” said Kieran. “It’s horrible to some people, good for others.”
“Right,” I said. “So what was so great about my baby niece dying then? From what perspective was that a good thing?”
He furrowed his brow. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. Do you want to tell me about it?”
I didn’t. Not really. But maybe if I told him, he’d understand. Maybe he’d let it go and I wouldn’t have to explain myself over and over again. Maybe he’d be on my side. “Right after the thing where all the Sons died,” I began, “Jason, me, Marlena, Hallam, and my brother and his girlfriend all moved into my grandmother’s house. She was dead, and we inherited the house and her money. It was a big enough house for all of us, and it was nice. We were happy there. My brother’s girlfriend, Mina, had a baby. A beautiful little girl named Jenna. I loved her more than I’ve ever loved another being, not even Jason. She was so helpless and perfect and wonderful.
“But,” I continued, “she cried a lot.”
“Babies do that, or so I understand,” said Kieran.
“Right,” I said. “None of us thought anything of it. I don’t know if anyone would have, though, if anyone had ever really heard her cry for very long. I used my magic a lot to…quiet her down.
Just to make her calm. Because, I don’t know, I guess I just thought she was more pleasant that way. And it was easier for everyone not to have to deal with a screaming baby.
“But we didn’t know that Jenna was crying so much because she was dying. She was very, very sick, and we couldn’t tell. She was trying to tell us, but I made her shut up. So, she died, and if I’d never used that fucking magic on her, she wouldn’t have.”
I slammed my hands against the steering wheel of the car again, then I gripped it. I wished I could shake the car apart. No matter what anyone said, there was no way I could forgive myself for what I’d done. I’d killed my baby niece. It just made it worse that no one really blamed me.
Everyone had forgiven me. Everyone said it wasn’t my fault. Even Mina, before she ran off. She said she didn’t blame me. It was no one’s fault.
“I know how you feel,” said Kieran.
I turned to him sharply. That wasn’t what I’d expected him to say. I’d expected more of the same ridiculous drivel, that it wasn’t really my fault.
“I should have saved my family,” said Kieran, “and I didn’t.”
I bit my lip. Neither of us said anything to each other for a few minutes. I just reached over and took Kieran’s hand. He squeezed it. We sat in the car, holding hands. And, somehow, that was better than any reassuring words that anyone had ever tried to tell me before.
* * *
I spoke to Hallam about the fact that Jason had been using magic that afternoon. I told him that I could feel that our powers were different—mine was destructive and Jason’s was cohesive. The powers had different textures. While Hallam was concerned about the fact that Jason had the ability to influence a large group of people’s minds, just like I did, he dismissed the idea that our powers were opposite or that my power was evil, like I thought it was. I didn’t argue too much with him, because I was beginning to wonder if he was right. Maybe m
y power wasn’t evil. Maybe I was just evil.
Hallam said I had to get over it, because he and his people needed to rely on my magic. I didn’t like this. I didn’t like killing people or hurting people. After a brief discussion, Hallam convinced me to talk to Lily, who was supposed to convince me that my powers weren’t evil.
Lily and I met in the radio room. She perched on a chair elegantly. She was probably somewhere in her early forties, but she was a wiry woman. I could tell she was strong and in shape.
I slouched in my own chair, not really interested in anything she was going to tell me. I’d heard this business from the OF. Power comes from the earth, and everything on the planet is part of the same cycle, therefore nothing could really be all that bad, could it? Stupid.
Sure enough, she started in with natural analogies right away. “Do you know anything about redwood pine cones?”
What did this have to do with anything? I glared at her. I was starting to feel a little sick to my stomach. Had I eaten anything today? “No, I don’t know anything about pine cones.”
“Redwood pine cones will not release their seeds if they go through a fire. Fire is destructive, you see, but it brings about regeneration.”
I rolled my eyes. “You’re saying that destruction isn’t always bad.”
“Precisely. It is, perhaps, a matter of perspective.”
“Try to explain to me a perspective where it’s better for people to be dead.”
“Well…” She stood up and walked over to the radio. “If they were trying to kill you, then the threat to you is neutralized.”
That wasn’t a good enough reason. “I don’t like it,” I said. “Ever since I was seventeen years old, I’ve had to kill people. I don’t want to do it anymore. There’s got to be a way where I don’t have to do it.”
Lily picked up a pencil, which was sitting next to the radio, along with a pad of paper. It was for taking notes on orders. She began to gesture with the pencil while she talked. “I don’t think anyone enjoys killing people. I certainly don’t. But like you, I’ve been forced to live a life of violence.”
V.J. Chambers - Jason&Azazel Apocalypse 01 Page 13