Demonic Designs (To Absolve the Fallen)

by Babbitt, Aaron

  “I’m sorry, Jeremiah. I’ve seen what he can do.”

  Jeremiah was starting to lose his cool. “You have evidently never seen what I can do,” he growled. “You listen to me. I have been about as cordial as I can be, given the circumstances. I need your help. She needs your help. Everyone else on this God-forsaken rock needs your help. There is no safer place under Heaven than my compound. And, minute by minute, you are making this restaurant less safe. I could make you give me the information.”

  Marcus stood up. “No, you couldn’t. Abbie made me immune to the mind games of demons for times just like this. And you can’t kill me because you need me. I will not go with you, but you can tell Abbie that I plan to pay her a visit. Judging from recent demonic activity, I can guess where she is. I’ll find my own way.”

  Jeremiah suddenly understood. “Yes,” he affirmed, looking around. “I feel it, too. They’re coming for you. They must have found you through me.”

  “I have to leave,” Marcus said, walking toward the exit in the back of the building.

  “You can’t run forever,” Jeremiah told Marcus’s back.

  “I have run for a very long time,” he answered.

  Jeremiah sighed. “Don’t worry,” he muttered. “I’ll cover your tab.”

  Within moments of Marcus’s exit, two figures with automatic rifles walked in the front door of the establishment. People were screaming, diving under tables, running for the exits.

  Well, Jeremiah thought, at least he did find two for me.

  Jeremiah walked out of the diner minutes later. The morning air was cool and somewhat satisfying. He was a little cut up, but not too badly. He nonchalantly walked away from the building and looked around. Jeremiah knew he wouldn’t be able to find Marcus again, but it didn’t hurt to look. He lit a cigarette and got into his car. His next stop was a two-hour drive from Baltimore.

  When they arrived, the police would find five dead humans and two piles of ash.

  ***

  Elizabeth hadn’t gotten much sleep last night. As a result, she was still a little groggy, but she did notice that the cafeteria was teeming with security personnel when she walked in for breakfast. She saw Higgins giving directions at a center table and decided to find out what was going on. She walked closer, and she heard a word that made her skin crawl: breach.

  Higgins saw her approaching, and he dismissed the guards with a wave of his hand. “Ms. O’Dell,” he greeted with a salute.

  “Really, Higgins,” she replied. “What’s the matter?”

  He dropped his hand but remained as stiff as a board. “Two of our guards are dead.”

  Elizabeth’s face flushed, “What?”

  “One was...” Higgins hesitated. “One was beheaded; the other was wrapped in the razor wire. His flesh was shredded.”

  “Oh my God,” Elizabeth replied.

  “That isn’t all,” Higgins added.

  “Why wasn’t I alerted?” Elizabeth interrupted.

  “Ma’am, it was my understanding that you would prefer that the compound be locked down and security sweeping the area before anything else be done. With all due respect, I only got the information minutes ago, myself, and I had planned to alert you immediately.”

  “You’re right, Higgins,” she conceded. “Please continue.”

  He opened his mouth but shut it as soon as he spied something over Elizabeth’s shoulder. She turned around and saw that Lao Shi had entered the cafeteria and was approaching them.

  She turned back to Higgins and said, “Don’t worry. Anything you say to me can be said to him. Well, I suppose almost anything.”

  Higgins nodded. “The worst is that we have someone I have yet to identify. Parts of him are scattered around where we found the bodies of the guards. I don’t know what to make of it.”

  “It is a message,” Lao Shi announced.

  “From whom?” Elizabeth asked, beating Higgins to the punch.

  “The enemy,” he replied shortly.

  “But we should have been able to sense someone this close,” Elizabeth replied.

  “Wait a minute,” Higgins demanded. “Who is the enemy?”

  Elizabeth sighed and looked Higgins in the eyes for a moment. “Higgins, you serve to protect us against a very powerful supernatural force. I don’t expect you to believe what I’m about to tell you, but you should know that there are beings out there who want very much to disrupt what Jeremiah is doing.”

  “Demons,” Higgins responded, apprehensively.

  “Yes,” Elizabeth breathed, “demons.”

  Higgins looked at his feet. “I’m not very religious, but after Jeremiah told me those things in the driveway that night, I started doing some research. Books and the internet have never really been my forte, but I have found some things.”

  Elizabeth looked surprised. “You believe me?”

  “I’ve spent more than twenty years doing things the United States government will probably never acknowledge,” he began. “I’ve seen some strange occurrences, but some of the things I’ve seen here, in the last five years, leave me speechless. That man, in the foyer...”

  “Metatron,” Elizabeth answered.

  “Yes. He’s a demon?”

  “Yes,” she said.

  “And Jeremiah?”

  “Yes,” she affirmed.

  “I looked ‘Metatron’ up on the internet. He is the most powerful angel.”

  “He was, Higgins,” Lao Shi answered. “Now, it would seem, he is our most powerful enemy. It is he, I believe, who killed your guards and left pieces of a prophet in the yard as a warning.”

  Elizabeth looked at him in awe. “Why do you think that?”

  “Only the most powerful of prophets are gifted with an ability to hide from our perception of them. Among these are Abigail Martin and, until recently, my master. But, like many skills, this ability to move about without being sensed may be taught—if the aptitude is present.”

  “So, how do you know that it wasn’t another demon or a rogue prophet?” Elizabeth asked.

  “I do not know; I believe. I saw him in a dream.”

  “So,” Higgins reasoned, “you’re a prophet?”

  “Yes,” Lao Shi answered, not wanting to philosophize with the man over semantics.

  “And you?” Higgins indicated Elizabeth.

  “Yes,” Elizabeth affirmed, “but I don’t have dreams like Lao Shi. Matt and Alex are also prophets, as is—as Lao Shi mentioned—Abbie. Matt--”

  “Yes,” Higgins said, “his speed.”

  “Right,” Elizabeth continued, refraining from showing irritability from being interrupted. “And Alex’s abilities are growing, but it has been said that he has great potential to manipulate human emotions.”

  Higgins kind of cocked his head, taking it all in. “And what can you do?”

  Elizabeth chuckled. “I’m not sure, but it would seem that I’m sensitive to technology.”

  “Jeremiah doesn’t look like what I had always pictured a demon looking like.”

  “If it’s any consolation,” Elizabeth replied with a sly grin, “you’ve never seen him pissed off. But I can assure you, Higgins, he is a demon.”

  “Back to the subject at hand,” Lao Shi continued, “Metatron’s entire plan has not been revealed to me. However, I do know that his initial phase is a warning to us.”

  “But what is the warning?” Elizabeth prompted.

  “After Jesus Christ was crucified, all of his disciples, save one, were systematically executed—martyred. Now, those who are the most likely to come to Alex’s aid are being murdered to try to warn us that Metatron is very serious about stopping Jeremiah’s work and to keep the others away. The first of these was crucified in his apartment.”

  “Right,” Elizabeth agreed, “the boy in Baltimore.”

  “Yes—like Christ. Following that, was the hanging of a prophet--”

  “Judas,” she gasped.

  “Correct. My master was killed in a rock slide after
the destruction of his temple.”

  Elizabeth looked confused. “A rock slide? Which disciple was killed by a rock slide?”

  “Stephen was stoned to death.”

  “Oh,” Elizabeth commented.

  “An attempt was made on Abigail’s life, and I am sure that we will see this trend continue until the attacks are directed at us.”

  “But what is the message?” Higgins asked.

  “I believe,” Lao Shi answered, “the message is ‘stop.’”

  “I’ll die before that bastard touches any of you,” Higgins swore.

  “You are probably right,” Lao Shi verified.

  “How did you figure all of this out?” Elizabeth asked.

  “I had some help from Marla, but I had suspected as much.”

  “And you think he’ll save us for last?”

  “Yes,” Lao Shi said. “It would do no good to warn us if he planned to kill us. Remember that Metatron was also a prophet, once. I think a part of him wants us to surrender.”

  “Well,” Elizabeth said, “if there have been six attempts—five of which were successful—and the first represented Christ, then seven more prophets will die. Three of whom are me, Matt, and Alex. One is probably you.”

  “Six more,” came a correction from behind them as Marla strode into the dining room. “The news reports that Hannah Fox, her mother, and her two sisters were found in the Chesapeake Bay this morning. Jeremiah had sent for Hannah two days ago. She was scheduled to arrive here later this afternoon.”

  Lao Shi considered this. “I am not aware of a disciple who was drowned; most were beaten, stabbed, or crucified. Perhaps, Metatron does not wish to be repetitive.”

  “But you said one of the disciples wasn’t killed,” Higgins interjected.

  “Yes,” Lao Shi agreed. “John. Some historians believe he was exiled to Patmos, where he spent the remainder of his life. There, he would have written Revelations.”

  Elizabeth furrowed her eyebrows. “So, how does that fit into Metatron’s morbid analogy?”

  “I do not know yet,” Lao Shi answered.

  ***

  “Report,” Metatron commanded. His morning had already been very busy, and he was in no mood—nor had he the time—for Patheus’s inadequacies.

  “I have done as you wish, Master,” Patheus responded, “but we need to get him away from the other prophets.”

  “Not we,” Metatron corrected. “You. Months ago, I gave you a directive. I am somewhat alarmed that it has not come to fruition. You have demon support from all over the world. You have an army of loyal, terrified mortals. You have the best resources that money can buy. But you have yet to retrieve a boy. I ask so very little.”

  “You should have killed Jeremiah when you had the chance,” Patheus responded. Immediately, he realized his mistake. Metatron’s right hand sent Patheus careening into the opposing wall. Patheus’s body left an imprint in the concrete wall, and the demon fell to the ground.

  “I did not ask you what I should have done,” Metatron replied as Patheus picked himself up. “It may not have occurred to you,” he continued, “that I have plans that involve him.”

  “Lucifer.”

  “That’s right,” Metatron said. “He’s out there. I can feel his power growing. I only know of one being that has ever bested him in battle. I will need Jeremiah in the future. We need to take his objective away from him. Then, after his chances for ascension are obliterated, he will blame God and, once again, be mine.”

  “Then, why don’t we just kill the boy? It would be easier, more productive.”

  “It would be easier,” Metatron conceded, “but it would be counterproductive. If Alex died, then Jeremiah would never help us, and we would have another adversary, rather than an ally. Besides, I could use Alex, too. If he is as powerful as our opposition would like us to believe, his potential needs not go to waste. You tell Eva to give you an opportunity. Alex is weak still. His lust will consume him, will make him easier to convert. Then, in a critical moment, he will fall, dragging my confused servant with him. The boy must live and come to our side—at least until I get Jeremiah back.”

  ***

  Matt had not said a word to Alex before they were preparing to leave. Then, he only asked Alex if he were ready. Alex nodded, compliantly, and the two of them proceeded to the car. Alex got into the driver’s side of his shiny, new Logos. He looked over at Matt, and, as the two of them fastened their seat belts, Matt gave him a half smile.

  “Let’s go,” he stated.

  Alex started the car and listened to the engine hum for a moment. “I’m never going to get used to this,” he told Matt.

  “What? The car?”

  “The car, the house, the fancy equipment...everything.”

  Matt snapped his fingers. “Oh, yeah. I nearly forgot.” He motioned to the backpack he held in his lap. “In here you have a laptop that has had specific modifications. We’ll have to get Liz to give us the rundown on it, but I do know that it’s got the fastest processor that she could rig up. It’s got more storage than you will ever be able to use, and it’s always directly linked to the mansion. You can always get a message to Liz that way.” He pulled out a cell phone. “This has all of the important numbers programmed into it, including mine, Liz’s, Abbie’s, and Jeremiah’s. Don’t call Jeremiah unless it’s an emergency—it makes him cranky.”

  “Right,” Alex agreed.

  “It should almost always have signal. I don’t know exactly what she did to it, but our phones have a boosted signal output, and the receiver has been modified to pick up even the faintest signal. You’d have to be a very long way underground for this not to work. It also has an internet connection that is directly connected to the mansion.” He reached into the bag and retrieved a palm pilot. “This handy little gizmo should keep all of your affairs in order. Like the computer, it has amazing storage capacity; it’s linked to the mansion, and all three of these can be voice activated and controlled. They each have a panic code. If you get into trouble, and no one is around, hold down star and nine on your cell phone, control escape on your laptop, or break the palm pilot—whichever is the most convenient. Within moments, we should be able to ascertain your location and have a rescue team in the area.”

  “What if I can’t use my hands?”

  “Like I said, they all have voice command. The code phrase is ‘pineapple sundae.’ I don’t think you’ll ever use that in everyday conversation.”

  “Ugh. I hope not,” Alex seconded. “I hate pineapple.”

  “Yeah, I know. If you need to use a code phrase, the bad guys are probably going to know what you just did, but, in that instance, I don’t really guess it matters.” Matt pulled out a red pen from the bag. “This is one of my personal favorites. Have you ever used a taser?”

  “No,” Alex said, looking at the pen in dismay.

  “All right. This has enough electrical charge to kill a man—if needed. You twist the top and click this button.” Matt indicated a button that was exposed when the top was twisted. “You just shove it into someone and press the button. One or two seconds should be enough to knock someone out. Five seconds close to the heart or in the neck will kill them. It only has enough charge to work once, so use it wisely.”

  Alex laughed. “Does it write, too?”

  “Yes,” Matt affirmed, seriously. “But again, you want to be very careful. You don’t want to pull it out to give some girl your phone number then electrocute yourself. And, because we needed room for the battery, there isn’t much ink. It’s only for show; use another pen if you need one.”

  Alex’s smile disappeared. “Right.”

  Matt clicked the taser pen back into a safer position. He then pulled out a necklace. It was fashionable, and it looked to be composed of sterling silver. “The pendant on this necklace has been tuned to your car and our apartment.” He twisted the necklace, and the car doors locked. “It will do the opposite of whatever is currently in effect. If the car is
unlocked, turning this bottom portion will lock the doors. If it’s locked, it will unlock. That’s the same with the doors to the apartment. The car does not have to be running for this to work.” Matt pulled on the bottom half, and he revealed a straight, slender metal piece. “This will function as a key. Put it in the ignition, and the car will start. You don’t need to turn it; just sticking it in will suffice.”

  “Wow,” Alex exclaimed, “I feel like a secret agent.”

  “We’re not done, yet,” Matt told him with a smile. He pulled out a curious-looking plastic cylinder. He unlatched the top and flicked it. It extended about six inches to produce a wicked looking point. “We didn’t color this one up any. It’s basically a retractable prison shank. It’s plastic, so it shouldn’t set off any metal detectors. I wouldn’t pull it out to show your friends, but it will be handy to keep on you, just in case you get into trouble and close combat. If you need to use it, stick it somewhere soft. It’ll survive an impact with bone, but just the same...”

  “But you’ll be around, right?”

  Matt nodded. “I should be, but if I’m not, you’ll need to have some protection. And, unfortunately, I can’t have you walking around with a gun. I don’t even get one while we’re at school. Most of these things have tracking devices, as do many articles of your clothing. We do the best we can with what we have, Alex.”

  “Which is almost everything,” Alex added.

  “Okay,” Matt said, stowing all of the goodies back in the bag. “Let’s go to school.”

  ***

  Sara Card examined the crime scene in dismay. “What the hell happened here?” she asked the lieutenant who had arrived minutes before she had.

  “We’re getting some pretty conflicting stories, but apparently two men walked in with rifles,” he pointed, indicating two assault rifles on the ground next to two piles of ash. “They opened fire in here, and then something really interesting happened.”

  “As if that isn’t interesting enough,” Sara noted. “What then?”