The Little Demons Inside

by Micah Thomas

  He closed the door and sat at his computer. The thing in his mind was unappeased and raging. Erik went with it now, hatching a plan that would set things in motion. It was alpha as fuck. The two of them were practically giddy just thinking about it.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CASSIE WAS IN her car again, but not alone this time. She and Laura tipped their proverbial hats to the camp, honked goodbye, and hit the road. Cassie thought maybe she would return; letting go was fun. There was a beauty in the breakdown of process, free from her own baggage. She wasn't sure at all if she had changed, not fundamentally, as she would go back to her job, her life in Phoenix, but maybe she'd get a cat and be that lady for a while.

  Laura had the radio on, flipping through stations as they drove in and out of signal range. Cassie felt like Rumpelstiltskin. She'd been off the grid for less than a week and the world had gone mad. Repeated snippets of interviews ending with guns, a manhunt for Wiseman without ever hearing what he was accused off, strange things happening in India, mass migrations and real aliens. Was this some mass hysteria?

  On the long and straight roads, one could see for miles, the road view only obstructed when there were hills that shimmered in mirages from the heat. Cassie was pulled from her reverie by the sight of emergency flashers. A car in the road, one in the ditch. She slowed down as she approached, deciding immediately to stop.

  "Oh god," Laura said, "This is bad."

  Cassie had a wild thought, 'It's Henry.' She had felt he was in trouble, and on the road. She was almost certain that she'd see his broken body in the crash.

  She looked out quickly from the car. Bent metal. Smoke. No sirens. No one behind her, no one coming either. She was first on the scene. She put on her flashers, pulled over to the side, and ran out, leaving Laura in the car. Instincts, training, adrenaline all kicked in. What does she have in the trunk? A first aid kit? She went back and grabbed it. Someone was crying, a child. The heat of the day broke a sweat on her brow and her unwashed hair started to itch.

  A.B.C. Airway, breathing, circulation. A.B.C.

  A head-on collision. Car One was trying to pass Car Two and in doing so, hit Car Three. Both swerved, but there was a bad impact mashing passenger side to driver side. Cassie took the info in with a glance, and searched for bodies, stepping over bumpers and shattered glass. The driver of Car Three was dead. Cassie moved on quickly to Car One, while the driver of Car Two wailed and walked in circles futilely fumbling with his cell phone.

  "Sit down," Cassie said and moved him gently to the embankment and gave them a bottle of water, wishing for ice. "You may have a concussion. Sit down."

  The man followed her instruction, mumbling about calling his wife. She took his phone and dialed 911, put it on speaker and was going to hand it back to him, when Laura, eyes wide and looking lost, took it from her.

  "I'll talk to them. I got this," she said in a shaky voice.

  Cassie had to hope that Laura wouldn't faint, but gave it only a moment before walking briskly into the brushy vegetation looking for the other drivers. A deep calm came over her as instincts and training took hold. The driver of Car One had been thrown from the vehicle. She was lying in a twisted position, face up and gasping. Hovering near her were two crying children, one maybe seven years old, holding a crying infant in his tiny arms. He was calling out for his mommy repeatedly. Cassie went to the lying woman, the ABC's repeating in her mind.

  "Hello? What's your name?"

  The woman moaned in response. Cassie gently tilted her had back and lifted her chin. Blood sputtered between her lips, but not much, likely she bit her tongue or cheek, but she was breathing. Cassie listened for a few seconds and noted mentally to come back to this.

  Blood was seeping from the woman's chest. Cassie told the child to look away as she unbuttoned her blouse. A gouge, perhaps little more than road rash, but nonetheless a fist-sized raw hamburger hole bubbled up blood in her left breast. Cassie took off her own shirt to staunch the wound.

  "Can you press this to your chest?" She asked the woman.

  "My kids?"

  "Everyone is fine," Cassie assured, struggling to keep her voice calm.

  She turned to the boy and said in level tones, "Can you hold this to your momma? I'll be right back."

  The child nodded with a look of shock still on his face. He looked like a little grown up in that way a serious expression changes a child's face. He'd never be the same after this, no matter how it turned out.

  Cassie ran back to her car to get a blanket from the trunk, wishing for the seconds back, wishing that she had thought to grab it first. On her way back, Car Two's passenger was standing again.

  "Please sit back down."

  "Ok," he mumbled and sat, awkwardly.

  Laura caught her eye, and spoke quickly, "Oh hey. I got 911 coming. Are they ok? It happened so fast."

  "Laura, please, I don't know, just make sure he doesn't get up."

  Cassie returned quickly and placed the blanket on the injured mother, who was now talking in a low voice, words catching in her throat, to her son. Cassie took the baby from the boy's resistant arms, and resumed applying pressure to the wound with her other hand. The boy cried, and the baby pulled at her hair before it too started crying with a new vigor, hoarse, scared, and mournful. Sirens in the distance signaled relief to Cassie, and the stress broke through her calm and joined the others in letting the tears flow.

  "It's ok baby. It's ok. Your momma's gonna be fine."

  The ambulance arrived and took charge of the scene, confirming Cassie's determination that one dead, one concussed, and one in pretty bad shape. The police arrived shortly thereafter and the ambulance sped away taking the wounded little family with them.

  "Did you witness the crash?"

  "No. I came upon it."

  She and Laura rattled off the time and pertinent details, distantly aware that another car had pulled up and two men were standing back, as if waiting to ask more questions.

  "Hi, Cassandra."

  "I was wondering when you'd show up."

  "That was really heroic what you did here."

  She sighed and crossed her arms.

  "I couldn't find him."

  "That's alright. Neither could I. Actually, I guess I wanted to let you off the hook."

  "I'm fired?" Cassie asked.

  "You can look at it like that, but really, was this excursion going on your resume anyways?"

  "I guess not."

  "I wanted to tell you, things are getting pretty weird. I've been in this business for a long time and never seen things like this before. You seem like a nice girl."

  Laura looked back and forth between their faces, as it slowly dawned on her that this is weird on top of weird.

  "I'm not that nice," Cassie said.

  "Right. You did pull a gun on me that one time, but I'll let bygones be bygones. Anyway, you won't hear from me, from us, anymore. I'm heading into the mountains, got a little cabin prepared. I can wait out damn near anything. Peter is heading to Florida. He's got family there."

  "You're talking like a war is coming."

  "Maybe so."

  "I don't know what you're talking about. One day you're hiring me and the next, running away. We didn't even do anything."

  "Just be safe. Maybe stay out of big cities for a while, see if things blow over."

  Peter waived to her from the car, and gave her a thumbs up and a grin.

  "Ok then. Bye Cassie." Don got in the car and they drove off. Cassie sat in her own car for a moment, letting the AC dry the sweat on her face. Laura sat next to her in silence. Only shattered glass on the shoulder remained as evidence that anything had happened. The glass on the road, the blood on her sleeves. She thought about calling her mom, but wasn't in the mood to hear about her cats or her neighbor's hemorrhoids.

  "We should stop in Vegas," Laura said matter of fact.

  Cassie managed a weary laugh, "Can you drive?"

  It was 30 more miles to Vegas. She
would get a room, shower, and sleep. The future after that could wait.

  ***

  Cassie and Laura barely said anything to each other for the rest of the drive into Vegas, except the occasional, 'what the fuck' and 'are you ok?' Laura had seen another side of Cassie from the lost soul, wandering around. Cassie had been in charge and in control, decisive and knew what needed to get done to save that woman's life. Some bonds are forged out of kindness, and other forged in fire. In this case, Laura's respect for Cassie had grown immensely and she felt good being with her. For Cassie's part, a life of day in and day out doldrum had been radically transformed into what felt like a series of hijinks imposed by a cruel god with a dark sense of humor. She was tired of the road trip and felt like she'd found whatever she had been looking for, personally at least. Some sense of confirmation that the grass was indeed not actually greener on the other side. A wandering lifestyle was not for her and she missed her routine, even if she planned to make some changes when she got back.

  The sun was setting, traffic was shitty, their asses sweaty, and Laura suggested that they stay somewhere cheap. Cassie had another idea, a long shot, but one she wanted to explore since they decided on this plan. She pulled up to the valet at the most luxurious hotel on the strip. She'd read that this was the hotel owned by the former real estate mogul turned president, and it was renowned for its opulence. Cassie checked the car and Laura snorted a laugh.

  "I hope you're rich, because I can't afford this place," Laura said.

  Cassie smiled back as they strolled into the comically grand lobby. Rocco design clashed with resort mentality piled on top of roman flourishes.

  Cassie walked straight up to the front desk and said, "Hi."

  Before she could even ask for a room, the cheerful clerk cut her off with a smile, "Hello, I'm sorry but we are entirely booked through the week."

  Laura looked at Cassie with an I told you so glance.

  "Sure. Well. I understand you have a room reserved for me by my employer."

  "And who might that be?"

  "The Black Star Institute."

  The desk agent typed in the name and must have seen something because she instantly changed her tune.

  "Do you have anything, an email or a business card?"

  "No, but you can call my boss, I just don't think they'd like the interruption. Once I've had a chance to relax in my room, then I can have a message sent. How about that?"

  "It's not that we don't believe you, but do you have something?" she asked.

  Cassie handed her the black, Black Star credit card.

  A few clicks on the keyboard later and big smiles. Valets took Laura and Cassie's bags in exchange for expensive bottled water, chipped straight from the glaciers.

  Laura looked disbelieving at Cassie, "Didn't you say you were a hospice care nurse in a little facility in Phoenix?"

  "I took a side job a little while ago. It has some perks," Cassie said, as if this was all planned.

  The suite was ridiculous. A foyer with platters of gourmet snacks, champagne flutes handed to them by white-gloved staff. High ceilings, what, 15 feet or maybe 20, Cassie thought, large windows, wall sized paintings of pastoral scenes, statues in niches. One might think this shit doesn't really exist, but it does, and it's weird to be in the it. Laura loved it and immediately performed the most childlike of runs towards the bed and proceeded to jump on it. Cassie plopped down on the sofa in the common sitting area that divided the suite's two bed and baths. Maybe someone from Black Star would kick them out, but for moment, this was nice.

  Laura joined her on the couch and said in a very serious voice, "we have a hot tub."

  Cassie laughed, and hugged her friend.

  "I think I'm going to take a regular old bath, get the sand and dust off of me and sleep until tomorrow. Is that boring?"

  "Not at all. I'm going to abuse the free internet, get caught up on emails and do the same," Laura said.

  Cassie had her bath, a quick thing despite the lux soaps, bubbles, and lotions, and tried to sleep. She could already hear Laura snoring in the other suite.

  Cassie couldn't shut down. She couldn't stop thinking. It was too much. Later, she might chalk it up to the shrooms, but the accident was the final straw and she couldn't hold it anymore. She didn't know what she was doing. Being with the girls was fun, a need she didn't know she had, but she was just spent, in every sense of the world. Was there no place where she can rest? She missed her boring life. She'd sought this out, some inarticulate change, and found it, but it wasn't what she expected. And really, when the tears came, there were more than the last few days in there. It wasn't even just the driving and the accidents, and the fire at the Circle K. She was tired and wished there could be someone that said to her, nothing is going to hurt you, baby, everything is going to be ok. But that never happened, not for her. She was a tank, a trooper, a good daughter and menial earner. She'd come in for a shift if you needed her, she'd back out if you wanted her boyfriend, she wasn't high maintenance, she was cool, except she wasn't cool. She was tired and though all she wanted to do was sleep, she kept feeling like she was still driving. That sensation of motion, of falling forward, carried her fall into sleep and dream.

  Morning came with a knock at the door. Cassie assumed the jig was up and had a prepared speech of misunderstanding to explain their use of the room. She was very, very wrong. The bellhops had to open the double doors wide to wheel in the elaborate ice sculpture of a naked goddess, standing amidst dancing fauns, or were they satyrs? Cassie didn't know. Next came trolley cart of food, soft French cheeses, ripe fruit cut into artful shapes, steaming tins of cheese covered potatoes, a tray of waffles topped with cream. It was breakfast for at least 10, maybe 20 people. Laura came out of her room, still brushing her teeth, wearing nothing but panties.

  "Whah's thesh?" she said with a mouth full of toothpaste.

  The bellhops extricated themselves with a regal decorum and Cassie laughed, a free and full, stupidly goofy laugh.

  All worries forgotten, wrapped in excessively plush robes, faces moistened with rich cream lotions, they tucked into the spread with gusto. The festival food had been ok, rustic and edible, but this was living large. They talked about things they'd seen back in the desert, more stories of friends and good times, and the inevitable return to reality.

  Appetites sated, Laura noticed an envelope tucked beneath her plate.

  "Oh, my god," she exclaimed, "Do you know what this is?"

  "Oh, I have one too," Cassie said opening her envelope.

  A letter in raised gilded fonts welcomed them to their stay, and hoped they would avail themselves to the offered complimentary gifts of a thousand-dollar chip in the casino and tickets to this evening's show by the pop performer Britney Speers.

  "Cassie, I know that we are both very tired and want to get home to our beds and lives, but can you see it in your heart to do this one last thing with me?" Laura asked earnestly.

  Cassie met her gaze intently, "Laura, you gave me water and drugs in the desert. I would be honored to accompany you in one more day of sun, glamour, and screaming like teenagers."

  They both laughed and jumped around, feeling light and young.

  "Is it too early to drink?" Laura asked while popping open a bottle of champagne.

  They eagerly made a day plan, to lay by the pool and catch up on email and social media now that they were back in the land of ample Wi-Fi. Followed by spa time. Then they'd take a midday nap, why not? They'd do all this with joy in their hearts before getting dressed up and carousing the casino floor before the show.

  ***

  Dan had gone back to Phoenix, and while Sanders could truly focus on the task at hand, he hated sleeping alone. He'd gotten a single room at a motel in the close suburb of Shoreline. He simply couldn't justify the fancy hotel for another night. What did he hope to accomplish in the additional day? He wasn't sure, but his gut said he was on to something, something that mattered.

  The myst
erious Redditor had agreed to meet up, but they were very nervous. If half of what was disclosed in their online correspondence was true, Oneiros.78 had reason to be nervous. They described what was, on one hand, the most unethical research imaginable, and on the other, a conspiracy that roped in unlimited government involvement and influence. It was like something out of a movie, Sander's skepticism of conspiracy was matched, not by an evidence-based belief, but by how on earth could this stuff stay hidden? Invisibly existing behind every major technological advance in the last 30 years, it almost presumed a level of cooperation between global powers that are at least on the surface, not remotely allies and more enemies. Sanders discounted whatever degree of global conspiracy and focused on the small story, human experiments, things people can't consent to, find out what happened to Henry.