by LJ Swallow
The hidden report uncovered by Ewan tells a different story. The victim is a John Murphy, who lives in a nearby suburb. He hasn't been reported missing, and the only contact the police have made is with his housemates.
RedRogue?
And why the false report?
The whole time I investigated my conspiracy theories, I deep down didn't want any of this to be true. If I'd met DoomMan and allowed myself into their inner circle, would I know more? He was prepared to tell me, I missed the meeting, but may still have a target on my head.
Heath parks his SUV on the level closest to the exit. If the guys work together, they often choose one car and usually Heath’s. With no intention to split and go elsewhere, one car’s all that’s needed. I’m happily sandwiched between Ewan and Joss in the back.
Fumes from cars motoring in and out turn my stomach, and tyres screech below as drivers negotiate the steep turns while descending the car park. We sit in silence for a few moments.
“Where are we looking?” asks Joss. He wraps both arms around the seat backs and peers into the front.
"Ewan?" asks Xander without turning.
“Stairwell on the lowest level, near the elevator. I'm not sure if it's still cordoned off."
Late afternoon, and the car park's busy as the day ends. There's nothing unusual about four men and a girl heading across the concrete floor towards the elevator. We could be headed anywhere.
"Whoever did this chose somewhere very public," I remark.
“Yeah, looks like audacious is their style.”
Two teenage girls laden with shopping bags take in the guys' smoking hot magnificence. One drops a paper bag, branded with a high street clothing store, as she bumps into her friend who's halted to stare.
Joss immediately bends down to take the bag and hands it to the beetroot-red girl. "Here you go." His smile removes her ability to speak, and she nods at him.
Her friend whispers something and links her arm through the embarrassed girl's. They stumble away whispering and giggling, and I stare after them in amusement.
"You four are a public health hazard," I say and step into the elevator. "I'm surprised you don't spend half your time picking girls up off the ground."
"Xander picks up girls regularly, just not off the ground," replies Joss.
"I haven't done that for weeks," Xander replies. His eyes meet mine for a second before he focuses on hitting the elevator button.
I'm grateful the elevator is designed to hold shopping trolleys and a decent number of people; squished against all four guys would be too big a distraction. Especially Heath—when I'm close, my body flares with a heat to match last night.
The metal doors slide open, and we step out into a space designed for forty plus cars, but with half a dozen spotted around. Gloomier than the level we parked on, with dark corners I'd rather steer clear of, I'm instantly alert. Xander strides to the middle of the area and scouts around, tipping his head as if listening.
"Here." Ewan points at a doorway, and when Heath yanks on the metal handle, it's locked.
"One way of protecting the scene, I guess," I say.
"Uh huh." Xander approaches and yanks the handle downwards until the wood around it cracks. "Done."
He pulls his hand away, unmarred by any effort. "How did you—" I begin.
"Xander's strength comes in useful sometimes," interrupts Joss.
"Right." I've felt the power the day at Portia's, and the strength in his sinewed body when we fought, but I never realised he held this inside. He must've really held back the day we fought.
"Can you sense anything?" Xander asks Joss.
Joss wrinkles his nose. "No demons around here. Doesn't mean to say there weren't when it happened."
Heath huffs and throws open the door. An immediate stench of stale urine joins the lung-clogging fumes, and I follow them inside.
"Oh, perfect," mutters Ewan sarcastically as he flicks a nearby light switch and nothing happens.
"Ewan, wait at the door. We'll take a look downstairs. Vee. Stay with him." Xander reaches into his jacket and pulls out a torch. Heath unsheathes a knife, and Joss does the same.
I'd protest, but I don't relish the prospect of descending into a smelly, dark stairwell.
"Sure," replies Ewan.
The broken door clunks shut behind the three guys, and I lean against a wall, watching Ewan. "What's your take on all this?"
He shrugs. "Maybe a clue, maybe not. He's long gone."
EWAN
I understand Xander's need to investigate, but I suspect the trail is cold and that we need to wait for something more recent. Something concrete. I rub my chin as I scan the surroundings. Nothing. No sound from below.
I slump against the wall beside Vee, shuffling down so we're at the same height. Joss spent time on the phone to Portia this morning, but when she hung up on him for the third time, he gave up. Instead of us all coming out to look at a scene that might be a human to human murder, someone should be investigating the fae issue.
I caught Logan's conversation with Vee. What he saw isn't limited to Verity, and he knows that. The truth? Killing gives us a high. We enjoy eradicating another parasite latched onto the human world before they can burrow in and destroy life. It’s our purpose. What we do.
But in the black dreams, I feel this more strongly. I see flashes of pain, death, but also my enjoyment. When I wake, a fear grips me because those I see in my dreams seem human.
I voiced this to the others once, after a few too many beers, and we've all experienced the nightmares. Are they memories or, worse, predictions? One worry haunts me long after the dreams. What if we move on from demons and kill people? What if there's more truth in the old stories than we give credit to? Ultimately, will we bring the destruction we try to stop?
I hold my own theory. I believe I'm Pestilence for a reason I don't remember. Have I always been this way or is my current state a punishment? The missing puzzle pieces don't exist, let alone fit. All I have is the darkness hidden inside.
A noise nearby pulls me back to my task and away from distraction we don't need. A young guy dressed in jeans and a blue hoodie steps from the elevator and pauses momentarily, glancing between the two of us before dipping his head and continuing.
Vee doesn't register him, but I track him to the other end of the car park. Over the years, I've learned to read body language, and this guy's nervous about something. I'm too paranoid, never trusting anybody I meet outside of our circle. Especially someone who chooses to cover their face with a hood.
A nearby car's lights flash as he remotely unlocks the small blue hatchback and climbs inside.
Joss appears in the doorway. "Hey. There's no trace of anything in the stairwell, but there's another level below here. A service area, we think. Xander wants to check it out and keep us all together."
We follow Joss down the stone stairs and walk into a basement level parking area, where the strip lights above don’t work. The only light comes from torches Xander and Heath hold. The beam illuminates two parked cars opposite; alongside, the white painted exit sign points to a ramp towards the next floor. Heath moves his torch light further, and at the top of the ramp, a metal barrier shows, beside a tall structure holding a keypad.
The stairwell door clunks shut behind, leaving us in the choking, fumed darkness.
In a circle, back to back, we move around, Xander shining his torch into the darkness too. The light sweeps across nearby red and white tape cordoning off the elevator door to our left. Empty cardboard boxes and oil barrels stack against the door, guaranteeing nobody could enter.
I hold my breath. The only sound comes from cars above.
"Joss?" whispers Heath.
"I can't sense any demons," he replies in a low voice.
Heath's light flashes around again. "But if the guy's body was found in here, in that state, something isn't right."
"Yeah, we need to check the place out. Won't take long." Xander passes his torch to Jo
ss. "Follow me. Heath, give yours to Ewan."
"Huh?"
Xander steps into the darkness with Joss behind. "I want mine and your hands free."
We've spent a large amount of time as Horsemen prowling around dark buildings and have a strategy we follow. Two with torches; two ready to fight. Scope out the area together; cover our backs. The times we come across something or someone that shouldn't be hidden, we're done and dusted in seconds.
"Ewan," Vee whispers. "Something isn't right."
I snap my attention from Xander to Vee. Heath shifts the torch to shine into her face. The beam exaggerates the fear crossing, and her eyes close as if thinking. "There's something nearby."
"Something? What kind of something?"
She reaches out and places palms on the wall by the stairwell. "I don't know if I'm sensing demons the way Joss does, but I have this odd feeling." She places a hand on her chest. "Empty. As if somebody's dragged my emotions away, and I'm standing in a dream."
Her hoarse fear sends an unusual reaction through me, and I shiver. "That doesn't make sense."
Vee stares up with frightened eyes. "I don't like this. I feel sick and... scared. I'm not used to being scared anymore."
"Shit." I rub my temples. We can't have Vee freaking out in the dark and scaring the crap out of us all. Something might wait nearby, ready to distract us. "I don't think it can be demons. Joss would've sensed them even if they were two floors away." I snatch the torch from Heath. "I'll follow the guys. Heath, stay with Vee."
I step after Xander and Joss, flashing the beam side by side in front of me. How can it be so fucking dark in here? More boxes are piled in corners, amongst foul smelling debris. The piss stink turns my stomach. "Where did he die?"
"It's hard to know from a couple of photos," calls back Xander. "Against a wall, so we check the perimeter."
I turn and head in an opposite direction to Joss and Xander, leaving Vee and Heath behind. I sweep the light to the left as a metallic sound alerts me. A soda can rolls across the floor from near a skip, and my hand goes to the knife inside my jacket with a reflex action. Movement. Something crouched in the darkness?
A black cat scampers from the shadows and into my torch beam in pursuit of a tiny figure. I blow air into my cheeks, and my grip on the handle loosens. A cat chasing a rat disappears towards the opposite wall and beneath a car. I turn my back on the skip to investigate elsewhere.
Something catches me around the neck and my torch crashes to the ground as I'm hauled backwards towards the shadowed corner. I normally have no issues finding my way out of physical attacks, but the suddenness and grip against my neck disarms me. I slam my head backwards, and a guttural yell joins a bone-breaking sound.
Twisting from side to side as I'm lifted from my feet, I grapple with the arms choking me. I'm distracted by another growl nearby and turn my head as far as I can. Red eyes glow before their owner springs from the darkness and onto me. I’m powerless, crushed between the weight of two tall, human-like figures.
Teeth tear through my jacket and into my shoulder. "Guys!" My call is strangled.
What the fuck is this?
Whatever, it deserves a knife in the fucking heart. I fumble to find the weapon, the pain from my shoulder pulsing through my veins and into my arm. Another growl, and the assailant behind tosses me to the floor. He crouches over me and wrenches the knife from my jacket. I roll as the red-eyed creature still on me kneels on my stomach. I buck, but I can't move. The pain in my arms grows as the other creature yanks my arms over my head and holds my wrists.
"Guys!" I yell louder.
This is insane. I'm like a small child against these attackers, and unable to move my hands, I can't conjure disease. If I could, would that work? I know what decay smells like, and the stench from the creature over me isn't any I've smelt on something alive.
Fingers like claws rip into my shirt with a sudden ferocity and tear at my chest; my skin lacerates, and I hold back a cry when acid-like pain slices too.
I'm seized with an uncontrollable trembling as the venom fills my chest and my energy saps. A light shines into the area, and I finally get a look at the creature bearing down on me. The red eyes glow in a pale face, cheeks sunken and skin stretched tight across the bone. Black hair glistens as it sticks to the creatures face and his mouth foams red over yellow teeth. There's nothing human about this monstrosity. Demon? Why didn’t Joss detect their presence? I take advantage of the light and reach out my hands to shove my thumbs into the attacker's eyes.
The grip on my arms drops suddenly as Heath’s familiar white lightning arcs through the darkness and over my head. I hear a solid thud as the creature hits the floor.
Simultaneously, the hands digging into my chest stop as the attacker is pulled away. Another thud, this time against the wall opposite as he's thrown from me.
Nobody touches me, but a crushing pain holds me to the floor. Running footsteps. Urgent voices. Four figures appear next to me, blurred by my failing eyesight. Vee crouches besides me with her hand on my forehead, asking if I'm okay. The world retreats into a distant echo.
My lungs refuse to fill with air, and the pain burrows further inside my chest than the creature's claws did. I attempt to focus on Vee's face, but dark spots dance across my vision. My arms won't move, and when I speak all that comes is a hoarse sound.
An intense dread washes over me, and I fight to keep my eyes open. The darkness descends and fills my head with echoing screams, as I fail to grasp at the thread holding me to life.
Oh, for fuck's sake, not again.
10
VEE
The light beam lands on the creature that attacked Ewan, now spreadeagled on the ground beside him. Human, but inhuman. Large. The dull red eyes remain open, in a death stare at the car park roof. Oh god, please don't let zombies exist as well. No, they can't be; these creatures have unnaturally long arms ending with claws curved into weapons.
But that's not what's gripped me with fear. Lacerations and blood cover Ewan's chest, soaking through his shirt along with a thick black substance. I'm thankful the torchlight stops me seeing more detail, and I fix my eyes on his pale face. Grief washes away the fear, sudden, as reality pushes away disbelief when he doesn't respond to me.
"Is he dead?" Joss asks Heath.
Heath crouches and flicks Ewan's nose. Ewan doesn't flinch. "Probably."
"What the fuck are those things?" mutters Xander.
"Ewan's dead? How?" My voice comes hoarse and trembling.
"That thing killed him." Xander points at the creature's broken body.
"I know that! But you guys are strong. You can take down anybody when you unite. How can Ewan die?"
"Calm down, Vee." Heath places a hand on my shoulder. "He'll be back in a few minutes."
"Back? What does that mean?" I rake my hands through my hair. More noise elsewhere jolts along my spine pulling me to alert.
Heath flashes a torch into the gloom, and we all look around.
Apart from Ewan.
"This time, we'll go together, me and Joss," mutters Xander. "Typical bloody Ewan walking off on his own."
"He's not dead then?" I breathe out.
"Yeah, Ewan's dead. Bloody weird how quickly he died." Heath runs his fingers across Ewan's lacerated chest and stares at the mixed blood and sticky substance on his hand. "That thing used some major poison against Pestilence."
He laughs.
He actually bloody laughs.
"This isn't a joke!" I half shriek.
"Vee! Shush. Honestly, he's fine," says Heath.
"Fine or dead? Which?" I don't want to sound like the hysterical girl, but she's breaking through. The guys may've faced this before, but I'm back in the nightmares.
Joss pokes Heath in the back with his boot. "Just do your thing. We need the torch."
He holds his hand out and Heath passes the torch to him. Joss switches to shine the light onto Ewan.
I draw my knees to my chest and watch
with fingers dug into my hair as I dart a look at the horrific corpse and back to the Ewan. Heath kneels up and bends over Ewan's motionless body, then probes the wound on Ewan's chest.
As Heath rubs his hands together a light flickers around his fingers and crackles towards his palm, forming a shimmering ball. He holds his palm out and studies the light, which flickers as if he's kindled fire.
I've witnessed—and experienced—death bolts shooting from Heath's hands, but I stare in wonder at the light's peaceful beauty.
"Is his heart damaged?" asks Xander.
"Yeah, so this is gonna take a lot. We'd better hope there isn't an army of the evil fuckers." Heath circles his fingers around the light, which spreads upwards to match his movement. With a sharp intake of breath, he slams his palm onto Ewan's chest. "Because I don't have enough to resurrect the whole lot of you!"
Resurrect? I'm lost, grasping my way from the fear and darkness. But I have powers. I can use them. Can't I? How? Which? I rest my head on my knees and grip my hair tighter. Fuck. I can't keep my thoughts straight when the only thing occupying my head is the horror at Ewan's death.
Xander's leg brushes my arm as he stands closer and, with the touch, his contained anger finally sparks mine.
"Are there more?" I snarl at Xander.
"I heard something up there."
I spring to my feet and grab Joss's torch. Before Xander can finish his sentence, I step into the shadow.
"Vee! Don't be so fucking stupid!" calls Xander
Okay, so I can be a "human lightbulb" when I'm not expecting to, but what about when I bloody need to? I clench my teeth and grip the torch in both hands. The fury builds, a pounding headache between my eyes, but no light from me.
I stride along the centre of the car park, not giving a shit who's around. I don't care if Heath can resurrect Ewan. Something can kill a Horseman in seconds, and they need to know they fucking can't.
Xander catches up and grabs my arm in an attempt to retrieve the torch.
"Vee, you saw what happened to Ewan. Stop being so stupid."
