Demons Shemons

by K. B. Draper

  “Just getting in the spirit.”

  “Spirit of shit-giving,” Danny scoffed.

  “Love the sin and love the sinner,” I countered.

  “I don’t think that’s exactly how that goes,” Danny said nervously picking up a hymnal and paging through it.

  I eyed him suspiciously. “Do churches make you nervous?”

  “No. Why?”

  “Because you’re paging through that book like you’re a vegan and that’s a Cheesecake Factory menu.”

  Danny shut the book and shoved it back in the pew holder. “I’m not nervous about being in church. I’m nervous about you being in church and me getting sent to hell by association.”

  “Righteous concern.” I leaned closer to him, whispering-ish, “But there’s a good possibility you’re already fucked.”

  Danny shrank lower in the pew at the matching glares two women threw at us as they made their way down the aisle. I politely finger waved. Yes, with all of my fingers; geez, I’m not a total heathen.

  People were starting to file in with more curious glances thrown our way. The sheriff walked in, wrangling two blond boys and a pencil stick of a man into the pew across the aisle from us. She barely acknowledged me. I of course stared. She was not a happy woman. I could tell there was no love between her and the man she didn’t even acknowledge. Briefly when the younger boy made his way to her lap, for a fleeting moment I saw a crack in the woman’s hard veneer. Her eyes softened as she whispered something in his ear, then kissed his temple and messed his hair. I looked away, comforted slightly by the knowledge her life wasn’t all bad, or at least she’d found some sliver of happiness.

  The choir started to leak in from a wall behind the podium. Each member stood before a chair in the raised platform by a small wall, like a matchy-robe-wearing jury. The organist, an elderly woman, sat in front of the large instrument that sat off to the side. She played some kind of soft churchy tune and six men, two by two, in the most boring parade ever started down the aisle, the parishioners standing as they approached their row.

  “Oh cool, it’s a big gay wedding. I have to say their wedding dresses are a little drab, though. Purple muumuus are so last year.”

  Danny hushed me as he pulled me up by the elbow to stand.

  The men split off, one right, one left, right, left, etc. as they reached the raised stage. They each did statue imitations in front of large, ornate wood mini-thrones.

  I didn’t recognize five of the men, but the sixth, who sported a white bandage across his nose and two rather impressive black eyes, made a grin of “ha ha ha motherfucker” spread across my face. Danny’s too.

  “Nice,” Danny leaned over to whisper.

  “Improved his face, don’t know about his attitude,” I muttered back.

  The organ music picked up, not quite Rocky before a big fight kind of song, but enough to know the main event was about to walk into the ring. And on cue Reverend-Mayor Cline walked out, a Bible held high in one hand and the other waving to his people.

  “Oh, good lord,” I said, my underwhelment evident. The two women seated in front of us turned. “Oh, Good Lord!” I said again, full of fake enthusiasm.

  The Reverend-Mayor smiled at his flock, kissed the cross that hung from a gold chain around his neck, and raised it to the sky.

  I leaned closer to Danny. “I see he shops at the same store as CeeLo Green.”

  Danny elbowed me away from him.

  “Children of God, you may be seated,” the Reverend-Mayor announced.

  The congregation obeyed like a good little misled flock. I remained standing until Danny yanked me down.

  My delayed response to the Reverend-Mayor’s orders got only the partial effect I’d hoped for. Wayne Jr. was now glaring at me from his pretty chair, but Daddy Dearest had missed my silent FU. He was already flipping open his Bible to the passages he was going to regal us with this fine evening.

  This evening’s sermon was on … Hell, I have no idea. I zoned out after the first syllable. I discreetly pulled out my phone. Ashlyn had not shown up yet and there was no reply to my text. She hadn’t told me what kind of call she had received. I’d taken it as a routine call but my gut clenched at the possibility that the Reyna had sliced, diced, and pickled another victim. However, I was confident Ashlyn would have notified me if that had been the case. If she was able to notify me. I glanced up and around, catching the sheriff’s curious look. I mouthed “Ashlyn,” and shrugged.

  The sheriff nodded once and used her little blond clinger-on to block her use of her phone. After punching out something on the keyboard, she looked over and mouthed “Dispatch.”

  I nodded. Danny took my elbow, encouraging me to rise and sit during the appropriate times. Between all the up and downs, I checked the door, my phone, and the sheriff. After what felt like a hundred amens, two hundred hallelujahs, and an eternity of damnations later, the sheriff caught my attention. “Not on a call.”

  My heart double-timed it trying to keep up with my brain, which was racing through the possibilities of why Ashlyn wasn’t here, wasn’t answering me. I tried to fast-forward through the “what if she changed her mind; what if she’d stopped and thought about who or what she’d slept with, and…” Danny swatted my thigh and jerked a chin at the Reverend-Mayor.

  “An angel has brought me a message from the God Almighty himself. She told me that a miracle will be given unto me this eve. My children, God’s children, the time of change is upon us—the time that all God’s soldiers will rise up and take this land back from the sinners. And I will lead you in this fight.”

  I would like to say I did the mature thing in this situation but, yeah, I went the eighth-grade class clown route, covering “Asshat” with a half-hearted cough. It’s well documented that not all my choices are mature ones. I also like sour gummy worms, Bottle Caps and Fun Dip, so sue me.

  Danny started patting me on the back, whispering “Sorry, nasty cold” to the people glaring at us.

  The Reverend-Mayor paused in his delusional address to his flock to stare at me. Again, I waved with all of my fingers. We were still in God’s house, and Danny had my wrist pinned to my thigh so my options were rather limited.

  The Reverend-Mayor cleared his throat, started up again, and once more I checked out after the second “sinners among us” comment.

  I tapped another text to Ashlyn. “R u ok?”

  The sheriff was watching me. I shrugged to say “still nothing.”

  People rose, Danny brought me to my feet with the rest of them. He opened the hymnal to a page and held it between us so I could see the words and notes as well. I gave him a “you have to be fucking kidding me” elbow. I don’t sing. Period. Okay, fine. I don’t sing without tequila. Period.

  I glanced back at my phone. I had a text from Ashlyn. “At hardwear store. Met me their.”

  I reread the text. “Hardwear?” “Met?” “Their?” Granted, Ashlyn and I hadn’t spent our time together giving each other grammar tests but I had read her incident and crime reports, which were well-written and had perfect syntax. Yeah, no way this text was from Ashlyn. I glanced up at the Reverend-Mayor, who was looking heavenward and singing painfully off-key. However, Wayne Jr. was smirking at me, a phone just visible from underneath the sleeve of his robe.

  I leaned over to Danny. “Ashlyn’s in trouble. You stay here, see if you can figure out where this is going down tonight, and I’ll call you.”

  I nodded at the sheriff, indicating I needed her to meet me outside. She was sliding her kid off her lap when I slipped out of the pew and started for the back door.

  I was pacing the church steps when the sheriff came out. “What’s going on? You hear from her?”

  “She left me around two-thirty, said she had a call. She didn’t elaborate but we were supposed to meet here. I texted her earlier and just now got this.” I held the text message up for the sheriff to read.

  “Someone has her. We can take my car.” The sheriff started do
wn the steps.

  “Sheriff,” I said, not moving. “I have to know something first.”

  “What?”

  “If it comes down to a choice between your father and your brother versus Ashlyn or doing the right thing, what are you going to choose?” I am fairly good at reading body language and the sheriff’s was saying “I want to pull your spine out of your body via your earhole.”

  “I won’t let anyone hurt Ashlyn.”

  “Neither will I,” I said, letting my statement sink in.

  “Understood.”

  I was opening the passenger door when the church’s double doors opened and people filed out. With church dismissed I assumed we’d have one more party joining our soiree at the “hardwear” store. Freaking idiot.

  I gave the sheriff my theory of what might be awaiting us. She was silent, letting out only the muffled “fucking idiots” at the appropriate times within my story. A few short blocks later, she pulled over approximately where Danny had the last time I found myself here. She backed into a nearby carport to conceal her vehicle. “Harvey’s. They moved out of town a few months ago,” she explained before getting out.

  “I’ll go in down the alley. Why don’t you go around front and come up from the other side? You should be able to hear and see everything from the far side of the dock. You can take any actions you want or don’t want from there. My only concern is getting Ashlyn out safely. Cool?” I asked.

  The sheriff leaned back, grabbing the shotgun she had secured between her seats. She straightened and racked the slide. “Cool.”

  “If things go south, know that I’m more than capable of handling myself. So no matter what you see or hear don’t worry about me; you just get Ashlyn out of here. Okay?”

  The sheriff eyed me. “Get Ashlyn out and let you get your ass kicked. Got it.”

  “You could’ve at least pretended to protest.” I lowered my voice in a bad intimation of her. “No, no you are a helpless citizen and I’m a sworn law enforcement officer. I’ll save you as well.”

  She didn’t laugh but I did glimpse a smirk. We are so besties. She unholstered her weapon, offering it to me butt first. “Here, take this, poor helpless citizen.”

  I lifted my shirt, exposing the small arsenal I had strapped to various parts of my body. “I’m good, but thanks.”

  The sheriff groaned and reholstered her gun. “Try to be careful.”

  “Careful is my middle name.” I smiled.

  “Your middle name is Jo.”

  “Oh, right.” I winked. “So yeah, we’re probably fucked.”

  The sheriff took off with a headshake and an actual chuckle this time.

  “We are so going to be swapping Christmas cards this year.” I started down the alley.

  Chapter 13

  I slid into the shadows when I heard Wayne Jr.’s truck turn into the parking lot and make its way to the back alley. I waited until he passed to crouch down, run, catch the tailgate, and hop up on the bumper. I rode there for the short distance, dismounting quickly as he pulled up to the dock, the same spot he’d taken up residence the other night.

  I slipped in behind the small half wall that lined the loading dock. Wayne Jr. got out, the dock door opening upon his arrival.

  “Bro! How’s it hanging?” one of the Doublemint losers asked in greeting.

  “Long and strong like Donkey Kong, my man.”

  I threw up a little in my mouth.

  Wayne Jr. jumped up on the loading dock. “How’s our guest?” he asked.

  “I think she missed you.”

  My fists clenched as my blood turned to lava. Until this moment, I hadn’t considered that Wayne Jr. would have … I wouldn’t let my mind go there. He better hope for his sake he hadn’t gone there either.

  “Have you seen the bitch yet?”

  “Nope. All has been quiet.”

  Wayne glanced down the alley, right then left. “Well, she’ll be here. She and my good-for-nothing sister left a few minutes before me.”

  Wayne Jr. wasn’t privy to the sheriff’s muttered reply, but thanks to my heightened abilities, I clearly heard her plans of “stuffing his gonads so far up his ass that he’d have three Adam’s apples.” I have to say the Sheriff was quickly moving up my favorite people list.

  I waited until Wayne entered under the roll-up door before I hopped onto the wall and tight-roped it to the dock. I moved quickly to the edge of the opening, glancing quickly while I knew at least Wayne Jr. and Tweedledee were engaged in bro speak. The space beyond the door was a large storage area. Metal shelves lined the walls, with more short rows running down each side. All of them full of back-stock items for the hardware store. I couldn’t see the whole room due to the stacked shelves, but I did catch a peek of Tweedledum’s head moving. He was walking from behind some of the stock to meet Wayne Jr. and his brother.

  “Dude! What up?” he said in greeting, a hand out to bump fists.

  I took the split second to slip in behind a pallet of boxed air compressors. I pressed my back up against the boxes, crouching low to stay out of sight. I could smell Ashlyn’s perfume through the mix of dust and oil. I could also smell blood, which wasn’t going to fare well for any of them if it was Ashlyn’s.

  I heard their footsteps toward the back of the storage area. “There’s my pretty little park ranger,” Wayne Jr. started. “You miss me?”

  I heard Ashlyn respond but it was muffled. They had gagged her. I gritted my teeth, stifling a growl. That was a very, very bad move on their part.

  I edged around the corner of the pallet where I could see the backs of three heads. Keeping my eye on them, I darted from one endcap to the next with minimal effort.

  “I’m going to take that as a yes,” Wayne Jr. laughed. He snapped his fingers once. “Get her gag. I like it when a woman screams.”

  I had made my way to the last row where I could see Ashlyn strapped to a chair with yellow nylon rope. A shop towel was wedged between her teeth, pulled tight, and tied behind her head. Her wrists were bound behind her and four rope loops held her torso. Two rounds strapped her thighs down, keeping all but her head and feet restricted. She didn’t look as if she was in pain, though I did see some slight swelling and reddening on her left cheek. Someone was going to lose a hand over that. She was still wearing the clothes I’d last seen her in but the top button of her shirt was gone, which translated to someone getting his man danglies fed to him like oysters, minus the horseradish.

  “You spineless piece of shit,” Ashlyn spat as soon as her gag was released.

  I smirked.

  “Now, now, sweet thing. I don’t think you’re in any position to be talking to me that way.” Wayne Jr. ran his hand down her cheek. And he’s dead.

  Ashlyn jerked her head away. “Don’t fucking touch me.”

  “If we only had more time, I’d be fucking touching you like you’ve never been touched before.” He grabbed his crotch and elicited two grunts of laughter from the moron twins.

  I moved silently down the row directly behind them.

  “Unfortunately, though, I have some unresolved business with that little cunt of yours that I need to take care of first. But then maybe, after ...” He slid a finger down the opening of Ashlyn’s shirt. Ashlyn bucked. Wayne Jr. laughed. “Phone.” He held out his hand like a doctor ordering a scalpel. Thing No. 1 handed it to him.

  “I fucking told you I don’t know who you’re talking about,” Ashlyn spat.

  “Don’t play stupid, Ashlyn.” He waved the phone at her. “We have the texts. I also saw you run off with her from the Down ’N Dirty.” He tsked. “I thought you were better than taking home my leftovers. But she was a sweet piece of ass.”

  “Funny, that’s not exactly how I remember it,” I said, leaning on the corner of the shelving unit.

  All three men jolted at my words, spinning to face me.

  “AJ!” Ashlyn fought against her restraints.

  Wayne Jr. shot behind Ashlyn’s chair. Chicken shit. “
So pencil dick, how’s the …” I tapped my nose.

  Wayne Jr. waved wildly. “Guys, get her,” he ordered.

  The two brothers came together, shoulder to shoulder, then shot at me like a defensive line. I stopped one of them with a knife through the toe of his boot. He fell forward, screaming in pain. The other hesitated, shooting a quick look at his downed brother who was sitting on the floor cradling his boot. He looked back at me and charged with a new heat in his eyes. It took me roughly two seconds to send him flying out the dock door to become the new hood ornament for Wayne Jr.’s truck.

  I turned to face Wayne Jr. He was attempting to remain calm while frantically looking for an escape. “Get your ass up and help me!”

  Tweedledee tried to stand with the knife still piercing his foot. I took one step forward and side-kicked him in the face. He fell back, hitting his head on the cement floor, and going lights out. I stepped over him, yanking Juan out of his boot.

  Wayne Jr. pulled out his own knife, a buck knife he had holstered on his belt, and held it against Ashlyn’s neck. “You need to stop right there, bitch!”

  I stopped, swirling a finger at the situation before me. “So yeah, I have a serious problem with this.”

  “Have a problem with your girlfriend losing her head?” he stammered, moving foot to foot nervously like a five-year-old needing to go tinkle.

  I laughed. “You should really work on your content and delivery if you’re going to play badass drug dealer.”

  “How about you move and my boys will blow your fucking head off?” a voice said from behind me. I’d heard them coming, of course, smelled James’s cologne. That was the reason I’d dispatched the two goons as quickly as possible; otherwise, I would have enjoyed ramming my fist into their fat heads a few hundred times for taking part in the take and tie-up Ashlyn game.

  Wayne Jr. dropped his knife from Ashlyn’s neck and straightened, cocky now with his newfound backup. “Ha! You’re just in time. I got her here just like you wanted.”