by Rob Horner
Tanya smiled her crooked smile, eyebrow arched. There was no surrender in her gaze, just an acceptance of the challenge and a determination to meet it head high and feet forward.
The moment passed, and fear loosened its grip. It might have been Tanya's smile, that sexy Come on, I dare ya look that made me shiver the first time I saw her, and every time thereafter.
It also might have been the boy.
The girls pulled me away and to our right, so that if you're holding onto the idea of a capital U, or can picture a horseshoe with the feet up, we were now moving from the center of the head toward the right leg. This close to the entrance, the majority of the attractions were still tourist traps--food trucks, old-timey photo booths, more games like the Quarter Pitch, with only the occasional ride that catered to the younger customer, spinning teacups, spinning swings, and an old-fashioned painted-horse carousel, complete with what sounded like traditional calliope music but played through a massive amplifier and pumped out of six-foot tall JBL loudspeakers.
The boy was young, no more than ten, wandering across the lane from our right to the left. He had on a Redskins sweatshirt and jeans, with one of the carnival wristbands strapped around the left cuff of the sweatshirt. He wasn't glowing white; nothing about him stood out, except that he was making a beeline for The Guessing Game, a leaning stand full of cheap prizes, a standing Toledo scale, and a charismatic man with a microphone.
I moved forward, pulled by a feeling I couldn't put into words then, but which I can describe now as need. I was needed, and that, more than any sexy smile, drove away my momentary doubts. The feeling of near-hopelessness remained---it had a strong foothold and wouldn't easily be dislodged--but it was temporarily drowned out by the inner voice that railed against injustice, the natural inclination we all have to right a perceived wrong.
The boy moved quick, drawn by the snappy patter of the thirty-something guy on his microphone.
"Step on up and try to fool the Guesser. We guess your age, your weight, or your birthday month. Chose any prize you like, if you can fool the Guesser tonight."
The boy reached into the front pocket of his jeans and pulled out a handful of wadded up dollar bills.
Switching from his come on in barker voice to a softer tone, the man said, "It's two dollars a try, little man."
The boy selected two lumps of green paper, smoothed them out and handed them to the man with the microphone.
We were a dozen yards away and closing fast. Through Crystal's power, the whole game setup glowed red, from the man running the show to the display stand of prizes. The plainness of the boy was swallowed by the red fog as soon as he approached.
I shook off Crystal's hand and moved faster.
"Johnny...what?" Tanya said.
"What do you want me to guess for you, young man?"
No longer blinded by Crystal's addition to my sight, and getting closer by the second, I was now able to make out the prizes lined up in neat, orderly rows on the shelves of the display. There were framed pictures on the top shelf, what should have been cheap prints of super heroes or action movie stars, but which were instead pictures of those demon statues, dressed up in Marvel and DC super hero costumes, or posed in dramatic fashion to resemble an iconic scene from a movie. One of them showed a demon in the orange windbreaker worn by Michael J. Fox, about to climb into a DeLorean. There were smaller versions of the large stuffed demons we'd seen hanging from the Quarter Pitch, each one with a squished-pug face and glittering ruby-like eyes. A third shelf held water bottles shaped like demons, while the fourth held assorted other items, demon pendants, those drums-on-a-stick with two balls swinging on string, as well as some of the more traditional prizes, wind-up chattering teeth, plastic recorders, Cops and Robbers sets with plastic handcuffs and a cap gun. Most of the items on the lower tier had no obvious tie to the overall demon motif of the carnival, while the stuff above it made me despair at how many ways the demons could infect the unwary. What if the size of the vehicle didn’t matter? Maybe anything could be used to hold an evil spirit long enough to transmit it to someone new.
"You want me to guess your weight?" The Guesser asked, pretending to be surprised. "Little whipper-snapper like you? Probably blow away if a high wind came up."
It wasn't just me marching toward them, with Crystal and Tanya hurrying to catch up. A few other adults were gathering, drawn by the humorous mini drama unfolding before them, little man versus funny guy with a microphone. They stood bemused and watching, small smiles on their faces, while one or two scanned the prizes on offer. I saw one woman point at something, then clutch a crucifix at her throat and turn away.
The Guesser was well-aware of his crowd, though he didn't address any of them directly, his focus solely on the boy in front of him. It was a good sales ploy: give the customer face time, make him laugh, and do it loudly enough that others come in, hoping for the same attention.
He made a show of walking about the boy, checking him from every angle. "Gotta make sure you don't have any rocks in your pockets. Did you eat Chinese or Italian for dinner, young man?"
More people gathered in, blocking my view just as I reached the outer edge of the crowd. They laughed appreciatively, enjoying the light banter of the barker.
"Seventy-two pounds. You weigh seventy-two pounds or I'm just no good at all," The Guesser proclaimed grandly, and I could see him in my head, sweeping his arm as he gestured at the large scale behind him. "Step right up, and let's see the truth." His next words were louder, aimed at the audience crowding around, "Now remember, I only have to be within three pounds."
I couldn't see the boy get on the scale, but I could see the top of the thing, a huge circle of glass like a clock face, with a needle starting to swing up, passing fifty, fifty-five.
I began pushing my way through the small crowd, still unsure what I should do, but needing to do something.
The scale stopped at sixty-seven, a full five pounds below The Guesser's estimate.
"Hey buddy, I was next!" A strong hand grabbed my right forearm. Then it was yanked away. Turning, I saw a large man, bulky and at least six feet tall, standing behind me, his right arm raised in the air like he either wanted to ask a question, or take a swing at me. Looking closer, I could see the muscles in his arm bulging, veins standing out on his forehead. Something held his hand up, something he fought but couldn't overcome. Tanya stepped to the side as the big man muttered "What the hell?" before being dragged backward, heels scraping along the concrete walkway.
No one noticed the strange way he was restrained or removed.
The boy let out a small whoop of delight at the result on the scale. He skipped nimbly off the scale and headed for the rack of prizes.
"Guess I'm not as good as I thought I was," The Guesser said with mock humility. "Anyone else want to take advantage of my poor guessing skills?"
Clearing the crowd, I found myself in front of The Guesser. He was a little taller than me, maybe five-ten, medium build, face full of smile lines. He was a man of laughter, who'd probably loved his job, before being taken over.
"Well, what have we here?" he asked, looking me over. "A face only a mother could love! Halloween's not for another five or six months, bud."
There was more laughter from the audience, and he smiled at them. Crystal and I had seen another Guesser back in Virginia Beach, probably from the same company. They played it soft with kids but turned up the humor on teenagers and adults.
I pushed past him, trying to get at the little boy, who was reaching for his selected prize, one of the demon water bottles.
"Hey, where're you going?" The Guesser called.
The boy stared intently at his prize, turning it around in his hands. He stopped turning it, looking fixedly at something. He was still three or four feet away from me when the bottle flashed red. The boy's body blocked the crowd from the view.
Only I'd seen it and knew what it meant.
My only thought was getting a hand on him before
it was too late.
The Guesser grabbed me from behind, pinning my left arm in a bear hug. My right remained free. He yanked me backwards as quickly as he could, just in time to prevent my hand from touching the boy. The man's face was at my ear, his smooth voice gone. "We know you, boy! You're the one we've been sssearching for."
He screamed in my ear, nearly deafening me, a blood-curdling wail that was a call to his brethren.
The crowd became nervous and agitated. One woman screamed in answer, not a call of like to like, just a normal reaction to something very not normal. The boy turned toward us, smiling. He'd transform soon, and all this would be for nothing.
I had to get free.
I managed to set my feet long enough to get my right leg behind his, throwing all my weight backwards while simultaneously bringing my right elbow up to his throat. He tripped, falling onto his back, landing hard with my weight on top of him, my elbow driving into his windpipe. His grip slackened, and I rolled free. Quick as a thought I rose, turned, and lunged at the boy again, my hand up to catch his cheek.
It was a close thing. The boy's smile froze, and his body jerked, a reaction to my motion that almost got him back far enough to avoid my hand. Almost. My fingertip grazed his skin enough to activate my power.
Light flashed and he collapsed.
Behind me came the sound of cloth ripping, followed immediately by a series of screaming exclamations as the crowd began to run.
I turned just in time to see the demon, fully transformed and long arms leading, rushing toward me. Behind him stood Tanya and Crystal. Before I could do anything, something small and hard flew past me, crashing into the demon, stopping its charge. One of the pictures crashed to the ground, cheap glass shattering as it hit the concrete.
More pictures came flying off the display to my right, streaking through the air, striking the demon in a dozen places, forcing him back. Unable to ignore the missiles and unwilling to fight through them, the demon hunched his shoulders, turned, and ran into the open area between the horseshoe arms of the midway.
"That was awesome, Tanya," Crystal said, or tried to. Her words were drowned out by other screams, coming from every direction. Most sounded like regular people, panicking, perhaps watching a loved one go from admiring a prize to a clothes-ripping, skin-changing monster. There were those other kinds of shrieks, too, the full-throated, growly kind the demons made, which might also be fueling the panicking customers.
Unconsciously, we huddled together, back to back, straining to look in every direction at once, but no one seemed to be rushing toward us. There weren't any people, carnies or otherwise, racing to the aid of the Guesser. There was no way to know what was happening in any direction, but the greatest source seemed to be from back near the entrance. People were streaming toward us from that direction.
And then we heard, over all the screams both human and hellish, a sound like gunfire, loud bangs in rapid succession, with occasional single shots breaking up the rhythm. A voice came over a megaphone, tinny and made unintelligible by distance, but definitely male and with an authoritative tone, a man used to being listened to, especially when he gave orders.
Someone was attacking the carnival. Someone with guns.
The demons were fighting back, and there were a lot of people, mostly innocent bystanders, fleeing in our direction, a trickle fast becoming a flood.
Grabbing Tanya's hand, for the moment forgetting that Crystal needed to be in the center so both of us could have the benefit of her power, I pulled us into the tide of humanity, letting it carry us further down the midway, away from the conflict behind us, and toward what we hoped would be the trailer park.
Chapter 29
He seems to have an invisible touch
The flow of people carried us around the curve and into the long straightaway that made up the right side of the horseshoe. The outside of the lane, on our right, consisted of snack shacks and trinket vendors, with the occasional small-footprint game like the Hammer Swing (Test your strength, ring the bell and win a prize), the Softball Toss (Get the ball into the bucket), and the Ring Toss (Get the little ring over the neck of the two-liter bottle). Behind the attractions was open field, where developed asphalt gave way to acres of half-mown grass and shrubs. Larger games like the basketball shoot, the one with the ladder that'll flip you over, or the Baseball Throw (Guess the speed of your second pitch to win) were situated on our left, the inside of the horseshoe, sharing space with the rides, which often spilled into the area between the legs of the horseshoe.
The pop music blaring from the large speakers outside each ride quickly overcame any sounds of combat, Blaze of Glory by Bon Jovi from the Gravitron, while fifteen feet further on Pump Up the Jam by Technotronic accompanied the Musik Express on its wild, backward race. The New Kids on the Block sang their 1990 hit, Step by Step while bumper cars revved, swerved, and collided, their power antennas sending sparks showering down from the electrified netting above them, while Sweet Sensation's Two to Make it Right provided an up-tempo serenade to the Ferris Wheel riders.
Aside from our flight and the people running with us, nothing else was out of the ordinary. The fear didn't spread like the flu on an airplane, it just stopped. Many of the panic-stricken began to slow, pulling to one side in front of a food truck or a ride, voices raised in question:
What the hell was that?
Sounded like a machine gun?
Didn't see anything.
Just started running.
This far from the scene, it was business as usual. The carnies manned their posts, taking tickets and handing out prizes, while the customers lined up, paying cash for food and games, shelling out tickets or flashing wristbands to get on the rides. The lights still dazzled, the music still deafened, and everyone shouted to be heard.
You could see it in the faces of those who'd run, who then pulled over to the side to confer. Maybe it was an advertisement for a sideshow. Maybe it was just people in costume. Heck, maybe it was one of those war reenactments, or some creative re-imagining of Marines versus Aliens.
A chorus of gleeful screams sounded, drawing my attention to the Viking war galley which swung like a pendulum, going up one way and back the other, higher each time and each direction, until it finally went fully upside down, hanging suspended at the zenith for long seconds, while the screams grew louder and pocket change fell like rain to the grass below. Then it moved through the cycle, no longer swinging back and forth, now around and around and upside down three or four times, before it began winding down.
Watching the ride, seeing how much fun the customers were having, brought a smile to my face. I looked back down, found Tanya's eyes, and saw in her smile the simple wonder that made a place like this so magical.
"Johnny, look!" Crystal said, grabbing hold of my left hand, almost blinding me with the sudden appearance of the bright glow around Tanya. I turned away, facing the midway in the direction we'd been walking, and immediately saw what grabbed Crystal's attention.
Three red forms, invisible to my eyes only a few seconds before, were in front of us, almost upon us. Holding both girls' hands, I pulled them back, getting them out of immediate danger while using the force to propel myself forward. Their hands let go, and the three forms disappeared again.
"Get the one on the right," Crystal managed even as I tried to brace myself for what was coming.
A burst of pain blossomed in my head as the first carny landed a solid roundhouse punch on the left side of my face, only becoming visible as his hand connected. The middle one, I thought, as the world tried to spin away from under me.
The hard ground slammed into my chest.
Somewhere, someone screamed.
I rolled onto my back in time to see the carny raise his foot, intent upon stomping on me, trying to end the fight. I was quicker. I brought my right leg in and launched it out, catching the carny on his hip, sending him spinning away in a flash of light.
Still unable to see any of the
others, I rolled to my right, quickly gaining my feet, then ducking as Crystal shouted out a warning.
The carny became visible as a flash of bare skin and Polo shirt zipped through the air where my face had been a second before, narrowly missing me. I punched straight out, connecting on his midsection, blasting him away to the sounds of more screams, men shouting, though whether carny or bystander, I couldn't tell.
"Behind you!" Tanya yelled.
Still crouched, I fell forward onto my hands, and, anticipating a lunging foe or someone intent upon grabbing me in a hold, launched a full-extension double-legged donkey kick behind me. Nothing happened, no connection, no flash of light. As my legs returned to the ground, I rolled forward, trying to create some distance between myself and the enemy.
Spinning and coming to my feet, I saw a young man, not much older than us, staring, bewildered. My eyes registered height a few inches shorter than me, red Polo shirt, mop of greasy dirty blond hair, and tanned skin.
"You're the ones from the other night!" he said. His voice was normal, not raspy. He wasn't about to change.
He did turn to run, but I was already moving, stepping forward, arms leading, grabbing.
I caught hold of his left arm and banished his demon. In a split second, he went from upright to a dead weight that almost pulled me over on top of him.
"It's gone," Crystal whispered. "The red glow that was fighting with the white one...he's just got the white glow now."
"What the hell did you do to him?" someone shouted from the side.
Our fight had gathered a crowd of customers, and it looked like other carnies were approaching, abandoning their games and ticket stands. As much as it tore at me to leave the kid defenseless, at least we'd given him a chance. Maybe if we could get to the box before he woke up, he wouldn't be subjected to a repeat possession. Lunging at Crystal and Tanya, I grabbed their hands and pulled them into the crowd.
A couple of big, beefy guys, regular Joes with a mild hero complex, looked like they might try to stop us, and maybe they would have if I was alone. But the sight of Crystal and Tanya, looking just as scared as I felt, must have been enough to convince them that maybe everything wasn't as cut and dried as it seemed. They stopped their shoulder to shoulder approach and glowered, but when we angled between them, they turned to let us pass.