Waking Light

by Rob Horner

  If I could stop long enough to focus on one or two at a time, I might be able to render them unconscious. They reverted to human when they were knocked out. But if I stopped to fight, I was dead, or as good as. Unbidden came the final memory from that dream, losing myself as the demon in a statue drove itself into my body.

  My heart ached as I jumped over the nearest one, breaking free of the trap and running for the glow of the midway. From behind came the hoots and screeches as the demons took up the chase, although now there were also half-familiar voices calling my name, Crystal and Tanya, tearing at me with words shouted in demon voices.

  "Don't leave us, Johnny!"

  "I thought you loved me!"

  Footsteps pounded on either side, demons taking alternate routes along parallel paths. More thuds sounded from above, some of the creatures taking to the roofs again, apparently able to see much better in the dark than I could.

  Don't banish, don't banish, I said to myself as I ran, knowing I'd need to fight, and not knowing who I might have to hit.

  Two dark and twisted forms with red eyes dropped down in front of me and I swung my right arm high, then kicked out with my left leg. Light flashed in staccato bursts like a strobe, knocking the two forms away.

  I kept running, somehow managing to avoid tripping over anything, taking turns left and right with no regard for safety. If I stopped, I would be taken. If I tripped, a broken bone would be the least of my worries.

  I pushed myself for every ounce of speed possible, calling upon the reserves of energy built up over long hours training for cross-country racing.

  The lights were closer now, resolving into a double set of spotlights set up on the asphalt on this side of the curtain leading back to the midway. The curtain had been torn down, a puddle of canvas on the ground, so that the lights beyond it were clearly visible, though none of the rides were running and the music had been silenced.

  Then a spotlight found me, and I raised a hand against its glare. "Run," I shouted hoarsely, the explosion of breath all I could manage, needing to save the rest of my air in order to take my own advice.

  The demons were still behind me, still coming, their mixed-up blend of bare feet and tattered shoes pitter-pattering on the asphalt. The spots were manned by three forms, dark silhouettes with the lights behind them. Two of them held long rifles, strangely shaped, with weird protrusions atop the barrels. All of them wore helmets, strange things, narrow and sleek with semi-transparent face shields. Any insignia was lost in darkness, and I didn't have time to stop and give them a formal inspection. Wild eyes stared at me as I raced past.

  "Wait!" someone yelled, a girl's voice. "Stop! We can help!"

  "Demons!" I said. "Run!"

  And then I was beyond them, passing the point where the curtain used to hang. The silent Klystron stood on my right, and the bright lights on the rides and strung on wires overhead forced the darkness to retreat to the sides of the midway.

  A short barrage of gunfire sounded behind me, and my heart shrank in fear that Tanya or Crystal might be shot, cut down by the soldiers. Demons shrieked, and a voice screamed from in front of me. My eyes sought out the sound. A group of people huddled near the Haunted House, maybe twenty in all, and near them stood another helmeted figure with one of those rifles slung on his back. The height and broad shoulders told me he was male, though he never turned to look at me. He held some kind of...I don't know...electronic gadget in his hand, like one of those Tri-corders from Star Trek, and he waved it in front of each of the people, somehow able to make sense of the weird beeps and boops it issued as it passed.

  "There's too many! Fall back!" a new voice yelled from back by the curtain.

  "I can't hold them!" said that same female voice.

  The guns fired again, though now the shots were coming from the curtain and toward me. High-pitched whines like pissed-off bees tore through the air. The large soldier with the electronic thing got hit, falling silently forward and into the group of people. More screams sounded from them, and some scattered, running away, while others hit the dirt, covering their heads with their hands.

  Ducking instinctively, I stopped my headlong flight and turned to look.

  Two of the three who'd been manning the spotlights were down. Only a single slim figure wearing a helmet remained. He ran away from the horde of demons, rapidly drawing closer to me. One of the creatures in front held a rifle, either stolen from a downed man, or being used by a man converted. The gun sounded again, and though I don't think the helmeted soldier was hit, he stopped, turning back and holding his hands out in front of him, like he was going to make the demons stop just by telling them to.

  And a wall of light formed, shooting ten feet high and streaking left to right to touch both sides of the midway lane. This guy had an ability. He was like me!

  Pops and pings sounded as bullets struck the wall. I could see little spots, just a tiny bit brighter than the wall itself, wherever they struck. The gun continued to chatter until its magazine was emptied. The demon carrying it threw it aside and joined the rest of the horde in their mad charge at the white wall.

  The people grouped up in front of the Haunted House looked to me.

  "What're you waiting for?" I shouted. "Run, get away!"

  I moved over to check on the wounded soldier, but a glance told me he was beyond any help. A bullet had blown through his helmet.

  Sickened, I turned away in time to see the other soldier running again. He'd drawn even with me. He cast a glance my way, and I was struck by how young his face looked through the clear plastic or glass face shield. He had soft features and pale skin dotted with freckles. He didn't stop, so I raced off, my legs protesting the return to work after such a short rest, catching up to him and the rest of the fleeing crowd, the two of us joining the herd stampeding for the exit.

  The demons screamed from behind us, coming closer, much faster than us on a straightaway. More voices yelled, cried, and screamed ahead of us, the crowd giving voice to their fear.

  There was no way they could get away. If I ran full out, shoving through them, maybe I'd have a chance. But some of these people were older, some much younger, kids with parents. Already they were flagging, dropping out to the sides.

  "There's a checkpoint at the bend," the soldier said, and it was the girl's voice from before, the one who'd wanted me to stop.

  "They won't make it," I said.

  "Then help me slow them down."

  "How?" I asked.

  "Lend me your power," she said, and before I could ask how she knew I had any power, or how my power was supposed to help her, she reached out her right hand and took hold of my left.

  Then she stopped. We turned.

  A moving wall of terrifying evil rushed at us from thirty feet away, their efforts redoubled, their howls turning to screams of triumph as they saw us stop, claws outstretched and eager for our flesh.

  The wall of light formed in front of the girl's outstretched left hand. She lifted her right, pulling me with it, until it was also touching the wall. The wall shot to the sides.

  "Put both of your hands on it," she said, grunting with effort.

  The demons were only twenty feet away.

  "Hurry!"

  I did as she asked. The wall was solid, that was my first surprise. It felt a little like Tanya's power did, something which gave but with a core of steel inside of it.

  "Now, push your power into it," she said.

  "Are you sure?" I asked. "Won't it hurt you?"

  Ten feet. Their slapping feet were audible over their screams.

  "Just do it!" she shouted.

  I pushed, anticipating a complaint, a sudden disappearance of the wall and our imminent demise. After all, pushing my power into something like this had hurt Tanya that night in the parking lot. I'd even used it to my advantage just a few minutes before.

  But a new light, the brightness that accompanied my power whenever it was unleashed, formed at the point where my hands touched
the wall. Her power had seemed impressive when viewed by itself. But my light was whiter...purer...brighter.

  As I stared in wonder, my light spread over the surface of her wall like a fresh coat of whitewash on a weather-beaten fence. The wall thickened like wooden planks had suddenly changed into concrete cinder blocks.

  The demons arrived, long arms tipped with razor-sharp, curved claws descending. They struck the wall, and were repelled, their arms bouncing off like an aluminum bat striking a metal pole, sending ripples through the wall. The strikes made no sound, though it seemed as though our arms should be vibrating from absorbing the energy of the blows.

  "Wow," she said. "You're strong. No one else has ever been able to support me like this."

  "What else can we do with it?" I asked. There was a weird sense of...draining. I'd never used my power in a sustained manner like this. I could feel something pulling inside of me, like a muscle being worked while it's already stretched.

  The demons were spreading out along the distance of the wall. It was only a matter of seconds before they got around the edges.

  At least the people had been given an extra minute to get away.

  "This is the best I've figured out," she said. "A shield wall. It seems like I should be able to do more, but..." She shrugged.

  The message was clear. She'd never figured out anything else, and now she wasn't likely to get the chance.

  It wasn't right. That soldier. Tanya's mom. Good people being attacked, transformed into something evil, or killed outright. It says in the Bible that God made us with free will, so we could choose to walk the path of the righteous or choose to descend into wickedness. These things took away even that most basic of choices.

  Crystal and Tanya, taken, transformed.

  Now this poor girl, those other soldiers who'd been with her by the spotlights.

  "What are you doing?" she asked.

  My hands were still glowing, growing brighter, sending pulsing waves of light through the wall.

  "Whatever it is, don't stop!" she said.

  The wall...grew. Even as the first demons reached the edges, it elongated.

  "Curves!" she shouted suddenly. "I want it curved."

  Something changed in the feel of the wall, light bending through a prism. She made something change, and I fueled it.

  The edges of the wall curved as they grew, turning away from us and toward the demons.

  It wasn't going to be enough. No matter how big we made the wall, they'd eventually get around it.

  "Yes!" she said, proud of her accomplishment.

  "It's not enough!" I said, giving voice to my thoughts. "These things have taken everything from me!"

  My voice grew louder, my anger rising, a fire that burned away doubt and grief, cauterizing the wounds and leaving ugly scars that would stay with me forever.

  "They!"

  My hands flared again, the wall glowing brighter still.

  "Took!"

  The glow around my hands was painful to look at, like I held two stars, bright enough to light the darkest night.

  "Everything!"

  I pushed with everything I had. The wall pulsed, then shot forward, a bulldozer blade made of light and as solid as steel, slamming into demons and carrying them away with it, tossing them like rocks in a tumbler, crushing them together, flipping them over one another. Games and food trucks and rides moved as well, cut and carved by the moving wall as it tore past them, tossing debris into the mix, battering and punishing the demonic horde.

  This part of the horseshoe leg was straight, allowing the wall to push and tumble the demons all the way back to where the curtain had been that separated the midway from the trailer park.

  "Oh my God," I heard the girl say, and there were other words after it, but the world was spinning and I was exhausted, every ounce of strength torn out of me.

  I fell to my knees as the world went black.

  Chapter 32

  The bigger they are, the faster we run

  Something was grabbing me, pulling at my arm, like one of those rat terriers worrying a shoe. There were words, but they didn't make sense. Nothing made sense. I just wanted to sleep.

  "...up...have...to...drag all!"

  My eyes blinked. Soft features, like seen through fog. Red hair. Didn't she have a helmet?

  "I said, get up or I'll have to leave you to the Dra'gal!"

  The redhead was talking, shaking me.

  The wall. She made the wall. She made it and I... what...improved it?

  She pulled again, and, groaning, my body tried to respond. Though I hadn't done much physically beyond run a half-mile or so, everything ached. Whatever we'd done with that wall, whatever I'd done at the end, had taken every ounce of my strength, then reached in and took more.

  Somehow, I found my feet. More amazingly, I didn't immediately fall back down.

  "Listen," she hissed. "They're coming back."

  The distant, but coming closer, calls of the demons broke through the fog in my head. A surge of adrenaline sparked by fear cleared away the tatters. The bright blurs resolved into multi-colored lights, framing the sides of the Musik Express, strung across the lane from one side of the midway to the other.

  Blinking, I looked at the soldier next to me. She wore a dark turtleneck over black sweatpants, which is what I'd mistaken for a uniform earlier. The helmet in her hands looked sleek and futuristic. It had an ovoid design, with a thin, transparent lens as a face shield. It was clear enough that I'd been able to see her features while she wore it. The inside, or something inside of it, glowed a cobalt blue.

  She was shorter than me, maybe five-two or five-three, and petite, with a wavy mess of red hair over green eyes. There was nothing soft about her features right now. She glared at me like a pissed off mother about to drag her lazy child out of bed so he wouldn't be late for school.

  "Are you good now? Can you run? 'Cause if you can't, we're going to be dead."

  It turned out I could run.

  The people we'd stopped to protect were nowhere in sight, though the spotlights and sawhorse barricade a hundred yards ahead, where the horseshoe leg turned back to the middle, gave a good indication where they might have gone. We jogged past the Musik Express, and things started to loosen up inside of me. We drew even with the Ferris Wheel, and energy literally exploded into my muscles, like a movie scene where the robot is good to go once someone replaces his batteries.

  As I picked up speed, the redhead did as well, seeming to have no trouble keeping up with me. I looked down at her, and it struck me she looked very familiar, though it wasn't likely we'd ever met. She was older, late teens, maybe even early twenties.

  For some reason, I knew that if I could catch a glimpse of her relaxed, it would all make sense.

  As we passed the Gravitron, and neared the glut of games and food shacks, the howling behind us intensified. A glance over my shoulder showed the demons gaining, a writhing knot of dark, ridged flesh and disjointed appendages somehow made more terrifying in the multi-hued light.

  I turned back in time to catch a face full of spotlight.

  "Hold it right there!" a harsh, male voice yelled at me. I got the impression of several of those oddly configured weapons pointing at me.

  "It's Gina," a second male voice yelled.

  "He's all right," the redhead said. "He's a Chosen."

  "Doesn't make him all right," the gruff voice replied, but he lowered the light. "Glad you're back, Gina. These barricades just aren't enough without you."

  The barricades were sawhorses made of wood, waist-high and arranged in a staggered pattern across the width of the midway in three rows, so that we had to wind our way through. There didn't appear to be anything special about them, just simple wooden bars over inverted As. But when I brushed against one, it didn't budge, instead giving me a rather solid impact on my right hip.

  The force behind the barricade consisted of four other men armed like the gruff one, with barrel-over-barrel rifles and
clothing consisting mostly of blacks and browns, uniform in color, if not in fit and fabric. The bottom barrel looked like every automatic rifle barrel I'd ever seen in a movie. The top barrel drew the eye like a magnet. It was wider, for one thing, and appeared to be enhanced with circular ridges that started near the stock and ran the entire length of the barrel. Its bore was much larger than a normal rifle, almost an inch in diameter. It looked wicked, and I wasn't sure I wanted to see what kind of shell it fired.

  There were three others without weapons, all helmeted. One was the second man who'd called out to my redheaded guide, Gina. At least one of the others was female, if the fullness of the upper torso was any indication.

  With our arrival, the force now equaled ten.

  They were set up in the curve of midway leading back to the entrance. Behind them, almost lost in the curve, were other sawhorses near the entrance. Presumably, since both legs of the horseshoe led to the trailer park, there would be another blockade along that route.

  What got my attention first, however, was a stanchioned-off square, well back from the barricades, that was maybe ten feet on a side. The stanchions were black metal poles, no more than a few inches thick and rising over five feet tall. There was one at each of the four corners. Between them ran...I don't know...a beam of light, purplish in color. The young man who'd called out to Gina stood beside the square, and while his face shield occasionally turned to look at us, his attention remained on the purple light cage and its occupants.

  Inside the square were dozens of people, mostly carnies, though some were too young or too old, and dressed too well, to be anything but customers. Despite the differences in clothing, they all wore an identical expression, a cross between hatred and frustration, snarling mouths, glaring eyes, fists clenched in impotent rage. They stood motionless from the waist down. But their heads turned, hate-filled eyes watching my approach.