“Yes, I know. And I admire you for it. Really. I envy you that you have a family you love.”
“You don’t have any family anymore? I thought Angels were allowed to reunite with their families.”
“I have a father. I don’t have any clear memories of him from before I was imprisoned by Demons during the Conflict. I’ve learned he was an evangelist in life, and nowadays he’s leader of a community of Angels here in the Construct. They’re pretty hardcore, like the Conflict never ended. He feels I’ve rejected him and betrayed the cause. So he’d like to hunt me down and capture me to – I don’t know – brainwash me back into who I was. Or just torture me for not being like him anymore.” Vee gave a bitter smirk. “So no, as far as I’m concerned I don’t have any family.”
The elderly woman nodded. Now it was her turn to say, “I’m sorry.” Consciously or not, she had lowered the handgun. She sighed, looked down at the sentient gun. Jay’s lone eye with its red iris gazed up at her with curiosity. The old woman lifted her head again and said, “I’m Judy. You can stay here and rest awhile, if you want. I don’t have food anymore – my son Andrew used to sneak out for it, but with him asleep now…”
“That’s okay. Thanks anyway, Judy.”
“Well, maybe…maybe you wanna go back to sleep for a while? It’s all right. You just really surprised me, is all.”
“I understand.” Vee glanced behind her at the bed. “I guess I would like that, if you’re sure it’s okay.”
“You said your name is – Vee?”
“Yes.”
“It’s okay, Vee.”
***
Vee followed sounds from the kitchen, a little groggy from her nap. She didn’t want Jay to feel excluded but she didn’t carry the bone gun with her, to better put Judy at ease. The old woman looked up at Vee and smiled pleasantly. Vee was relieved to find she hadn’t lapsed back into suspicion. Judy had already arranged two dishes made from that glazed clay, some crude utensils snipped from sheet metal, and was in the process of setting down a platter upon which rested two misshapen, tendrilled white roots with something of the appearance of ginseng. One of the former species of infernal plant life that had been successfully cultivated inside the Construct. Vee cocked an eyebrow.
“I know I told you I was all out of food,” Judy explained. “Sorry about that. I had a few of these stashed away. I was saving them for my grandson if he ever woke up. He likes them. They’re not as bad as they look.”
“That’s very kind,” Vee said, taking a seat. Her stomach rumbled at the very concept of food, no matter how unappealing it might look.
“It’s best eaten raw, not cooked,” Judy said, taking her own seat. “I don’t know why, but it sort of breaks down into a terrible stringy mush.”
“Raw is fine.”
Judy plunked a root onto Vee’s plate. Cutting into her own, eyes downcast, she said, “My grandson liked to help me prepare food. I remember my daughter used to love to help me cook when she was small.”
Daughter…small. Vee knew the woman was talking about her mortal life now. Did she always drift into these memories, or had Vee’s words stirred them up from the silt of her mind?
Judy looked up to meet Vee’s gaze and said, “Do you know why I was sent to Hades instead of Paradise? I’m Jewish. I never killed anyone, never robbed anyone. But I’m not a Christian.”
“It wasn’t fair, the whole system…I know.”
“And so where is my daughter now? My grandchildren? Where did my husband go when he died before me? Are their souls out there, outside the Construct, fossilized in that rock but aware for eternity? Or somewhere here in the Construct and we just haven’t found each other?”
“I understand,” Vee said inadequately. Again she felt guilty for being an Angel.
“Maybe it’s better if they are in the rock,” Judy reflected. “Just so long as they’ve gone to sleep, like my family here has done.”
Vee chewed a piece of the crunchy root. “Mm,” she grunted, smiling around her mouthful. “You’re right, it isn’t bad. Could use a little salt, but...”
She succeeded in pulling Judy back to the here and now. The elderly woman smiled in return.
A sound came from beyond the kitchen, small and unidentifiable. The look Vee and Judy exchanged altered in character, and they had already begun turning toward the doorway to the living room when a diminutive figure appeared there. The figure was as tall as Judy’s foster grandson would have been, had he awakened and come to join them at the table to partake of the roots he enjoyed. But it was not the little Asian boy.
The Demon was unclothed, with a withered little body like a mummified monkey come to life. The black claws curling from its fingers resembled an eagle’s talons. The head, disproportionately large for its gnome-like body, was a hairless skull barely covered in skin, but with a tapir-like snout hanging down in front of its bared grin of jet black teeth. Deep in hollow sockets, its tiny eyes glowed entirely white, like those of the much larger Demons patrolling the factory floor below the apartment.
The snout snuffled noisily. It had used its sense of smell to track her, no doubt. The lipless grin seemed to stretch wider, if that were possible. And then – with movements that looked like speeded-up film – the creature was launching itself at Vee.
But Vee had risen, too, and swung her arm at the oncoming Demon. In her fist, the knife she had been using to cut into her root. She cried out as the Demon’s wildly flailing claws sliced deeply into her left forearm through the material of her jumpsuit, and dug channels along her jaw as they sought her neck. Vee sought the neck as well, and found it. She plunged her knife all the way to the handle in the center of the Demon’s throat. It backed away with the same uncanny speed, the knife still protruding from it, crashed its back against the mock fridge. A burst of black blood snorted out from its snout.
“Judy,” Vee cried, “go get me my gun!”
Judy scurried from the room, babbling and sobbing to herself, while the Demon gurgled and collected itself to spring at Vee again. “You stupid fuck,” she snarled, picking up the chair she’d been sitting in and cocking it back over her shoulder, “you know you can’t kill me. You know I can kill you. So why do you do it?”
It was true. While an Angel or a Damned person, both formerly human, could not be killed, a Demon had no immortal soul. Though natives of the afterlife, Demons were essential mortal.
The pigmy Demon lowered its bony head as if it might charge her and drive it into her guts like a battering ram. It slashed at the air furiously, its arms a blur, but foul inky blood was running over its lower teeth and down its jaw.
“Nature of the beast, huh?” Vee barked at it. “Well come on! Come on and see the nature of this beast!”
Maybe the Demon felt it was dying and had nothing left to lose. It sprang. Vee swung the chair. And a stream of automatic fire rattled from the doorway to the living room. Vee cried out and let go of the chair as several bullets crashed into it mid-swing. But the bullets struck the Demon, too, in the side of its oversized skull. Its head shattered like an earthen pot and something looking like a fist-sized cauliflower soaked in oil thudded off the refrigerator.
Vee turned to see Judy standing in the doorway, holding Jay in both hands. “You almost blew my hands off, but thanks.”
“You’re cut!” Judy whined, badly shaken.
Vee took Jay from her. “Angels heal faster than Damned, don’t worry. You better go get your pistol.”
“Why?”
“That little bastard followed me up here from Level 117. He was small enough to take the same path as me.” Vee glanced past Judy warily toward the living room. “And he wasn’t alone. There were a half dozen of those things on my trail.”
“Oh…my,” Judy said.
“Fuck me,” Vee hissed, wagging her head. “I’m so sorry I led them here.”
***
Vee was standing on the toilet lid, peeking out through the hole where the Demon had removed the windowp
ane just as she had, when Judy joined her with retrieved pistol in hand. Vee said, “Even hearing gunfire, none of your family has woken up?”
“You think they’ve never heard gunfire before? But,” Judy admitted, “not from inside our apartment. I’ve never had to really defend it before – you’re the first one who’s found us.”
“That’s me, always stirring things up. Look, I’ve got this window covered. You go watch the one in the kitchen. Maybe we’ll get lucky and it was just the one –”
Something breaking in another room…a sudden commotion. “The kitchen!” Judy blurted.
“Okay, you stay here!” Vee said, hopping down from her perch and tearing from the room.
She plunged down the hallway, turned into the living room, saw a new figure added to the still life there: a Demon standing beside the sofa, head cocked to one side curiously as it took in the unruffled scene, as if absorbing an unexpected display of taxidermy. It started to whirl around when it heard Vee and she stitched it with bullets made from bone – but even as she did so, another of the Demons flashed into the threshold of the kitchen, spotted her, and came hurtling at her maniacally. Flung itself into the air, talons spread. As the first Demon crumpled, Vee swung Jay toward the second. She strafed the Demon in midair and sidestepped it as the body struck the floor and rolled past her. It thrashed a few moments violently, then abruptly went still as if an “off” switch had been thrown.
Vee saw that the mother had slumped onto her side on the sofa. The drawing pad was still on her lap, but it now bore a composition in her own blood. Vee cursed inside; a stray bullet had spiked the woman in the right temple. Blood was soaking into the sofa’s cushions.
Gunshots from the bathroom. Judy was screaming in panic – or pain. “Shit,” Vee said, and as she started that way she saw Judy blunder into the hallway, still on her feet somehow and bouncing from wall to wall, one of the miniature Demons riding on her piggyback.
Vee ran to meet them, raised Jay over her shoulder and when she came within range lashed out – the butt of the bone gun striking the Demon’s skull. It dropped onto its back and Judy dropped onto her front, tattered and bleeding as if a whole flock of eagles had been at her. As the dazed Demon lifted its head, Vee blew its whole skull into shards.
Judy could barely raise her head from the floor, her hair matted with blood. Vee crouched by her and took hold of her under the arms, but Judy made an anguished sound of protest and Vee let go of her again. Still squatting beside her, she cooed to the old woman, “Hang in there…it will pass. It will pass…”
More sounds of entry from the bathroom, and Vee rose from her crouch already firing. The bathroom’s door frame splintered but the Demon that appeared there was so inhumanly fast that it shot straight at her unharmed, as if it had lunged through a gap in the stream of bullets. It got one of its talons into her left eye socket, puncturing the orb and hooking into the bone. Vee couldn’t help but scream and fall to her back with the Demon atop her. Couldn’t help but let go of Jay when another pair of hands jerked him out of her grasp. It was a second Demon that had snatched Jay from her and flung the bone gun aside, and now this creature joined the first in bending over her, both slashing madly with their clawed hands. It felt to Vee as if twice their number at least were working at her body in a frenzy, and she was too overwhelmed to fend them off. Her blood splattered both of the walls that composed the hallway.
Then, the chatter of automatic fire. With a kind of oomph sound expelled from its drooping proboscis, one of the Demons was blasted off her body. The second Demon lifted its head toward the source of the gunfire, obliging the shooter nicely. The next discharge uncapped its skull as if cracking the top off a soft-boiled egg. The creature fell away from Vee and she lay there on her back with her rubbery jumpsuit shredded, one sleeve torn off and a hip laid bare. The hip itself was sliced to the bone. Her own blood ran down the back of her throat, her one good eye staring at the ceiling through a wet mask. Slowly, as if drugged, Vee turned her head on the floor toward the source of the gunfire, curious as the Demon had been.
The family’s father – Andrew, she remembered Judy had called him – stood there holding his own assault rifle. Unlike Jay, it was fully made of metal, without sentience or any other ability than the power to kill Demons.
Andrew stepped around Vee to kneel beside Judy and help her into a sitting position. Though she was clearly still in great pain, the eternally elderly woman was mending rapidly. Judy sobbed and clutched at Andrew. He held her to him, and close to her ear said, “Shh. Shh.”
Vee didn’t dare try to sit up just yet, for fear of blacking out. All she could do at the moment was lie there and wait for the worst of the pain to pass. Wait for her ruined eye to reform, her full vision to return.
Andrew looked over at her and asked, “Who are you?”
Judy lifted her head from his shoulder and explained, “She’s my friend.”
***
When she was strong enough to do so, Vee staggered into the kitchen and sat down in one of the chairs at the little table. Already seated there was the family’s mother, her surrogate son standing beside her. The mother’s hair was wet from having the blood washed out of it. The small entry hole in her temple was gone and the larger exit wound almost healed. Fortunately the stray projectile had passed entirely through her head so she wouldn’t have a bullet trapped in her skull.
“I didn’t want to sit in there and get any more blood on the upholstery,” Vee croaked, hooking her thumb back toward the living room.
“Me, too,” said the attractive black woman.
Andrew came into the kitchen leading Judy by the elbow, helped lower her into a third chair. He looked at Vee dubiously. “You sure no more of those things will follow you here?”
“Don’t worry, I’ll be on my way in a couple minutes.”
“Oh Vee, maybe you should stay here with us,” Judy said, wincing with concern.
“Thank you, Judy. That’s kind of you. But I’ve got my mind set on finding that place called Freetown. Anyway, you’ve got enough of a nice little family here as it is.”
Judy turned to look up at Andrew, holding one of his hands. She reached over to take the mother’s hand, too. “Please,” Judy pleaded, looking from one to the other. “Please…don’t leave me alone again. I was alone for so long.”
The mother rose from her chair to wrap her arms around the old woman. “I’m sorry, Judy, I’m so sorry. We didn’t know. We didn’t know you were still awake.”
Andrew moved closer to join them in their embrace, and said, “Don’t worry, mom. I guess we’ve slept long enough.”
Vee rose from her chair, still not entirely regenerated but ready to return to the bathroom and hoist herself back into the crawl space. She didn’t want to be the guest that stayed too long after the party. She said, “Well…sorry about the mess.”
Andrew straightened up. “Ah, don’t worry – it’ll give me something to do. Maybe we’ll remodel.” He looked at Judy again and in a thoughtful tone said, “If you hadn’t come, we might never have known our mom was alone like that.”
“I didn’t want to try to wake you,” Judy said, suppressing a sob. Now her grandson hugged her along with the mother. “I didn’t want to be selfish.”
Vee stepped toward the doorway, but leaned in its threshold and said, “Maybe you guys will consider coming to Freetown yourself sometime. It might be worth the effort, if it’s as civilized as it seems, anyway.”
“I don’t know…maybe,” Andrew said, but he didn’t sound convinced. Vee couldn’t blame him. Maybe if the apartment had been a little bigger – and maybe if she hadn’t been of such a restless spirit – she might have wanted to stay here insulated from the horrors outside, herself.
“You can always come back and visit anytime,” Judy said hopefully. She smiled, and added, “Visit your new Aunt Judy.”
“Thanks. Thanks, Aunt Judy.”
Knowing that she would likely never see them again, Vee
took a mental snapshot of the family grouped around the table. If she had no memories of a family of her own, at least she would have this. Then she turned away, to fetch her bone gun and return to Hell.
COUNTERCLOCKWISE
According to the gently glowing holographic numerals floating beside his bed, bobbing subtly in the air as if buoyed on the sea of dreams, it was two-fifteen in the morning. Strand had no idea, however, what time might be indicated on the clock tower on the other side of the street, directly opposite and on level with his bedroom window.
“Hey,” he had asked another tenant of his apartment building last week, when the lift had delivered them both to the fifteenth floor, “what’s the race of people who own that temple or whatever it is across the street?”
He had spoken with this young woman a few times before, hoping to warm her to him – she was quite pretty, if rather thin and maybe even haggard. She had looked at him half-distractedly and said, “The Groin, I think. Something like that?” Then she had turned away and like a somnambulist shuffled away to let herself into the apartment abutting his.
At first he had suspected his neighbor of drug use, but now he believed he understood her pallid and glassy-eyed appearance, as he stood at his window at two-fifteen in the morning glaring across the street at the face of the clock tower that dominated his view.
There were seemingly countless races in the city that bore the epithet Punktown, on the world of Oasis. Though the majority of citizens continued to be of Earth stock, like himself, or native Choom, Strand saw new races all the time. In all of Punktown – or as much of the immense megalopolis as he had come to know – he had never seen this race anywhere else but around this one building, and had never seen another building like it.
It was like a nightmarish wedding cake of black metal, tiered layers that tapered to the huge clock face that surmounted it. The steep metal ziggurat was intricate in design, rococo, covered in decorative detail and most of it barbed, thorny and threatening. But it was that clock face. For one, it spun around and around ceaselessly, counterclockwise, and glowed a weird yellowish-green inside its translucent surface. This bright diseased light penetrated through his blinds and curtains and he wished his apartment had windows that could be adjusted to opaque, like in his last apartment across town. And to think he had moved here to be closer to his new job, greatly reducing his daily commute. He hadn’t realized how lucky he had once been.
Worship the Night Page 3