Demon Road

by Derek Landy

  “Finally, we’re on the same page.”

  “But we were going to do that, anyway.”

  “This isn’t for you, Amber. This has never been for you. Despite everything, you’re still just a teenager, yes? You think the world revolves around you. Sorry to disappoint you, kiddo, but this is for me. I’ve tried to summon the Shining Demon in the past, but I guess I’m just not interesting enough for someone like him. But this time I think he’ll appear. I think he’ll be willing to deal once he sees what I intend to offer as a blood sacrifice.” He stepped over the circle and came towards her. “It’s a shame, really. Getting a good look at you like this, even I’m hesitating. Killing you is going to be like killing something on the endangered species list, a tiger or leopard or something.” He moved a little closer. “You truly are magnificent.”

  Amber lunged. The handcuff held her, but Edgar flinched back anyway, then laughed.

  “Look at those fangs!” he said. “Look at that snarl! You, Amber, are a truly scary girl, if you don’t mind me saying. But beautiful, too. Undeniably beautiful. How does it feel, to know that the monster version of you is the beautiful one? That skin. Those horns …” He pursed his lips. “I wonder how much I’d get for them …”

  “Edgar, please …”

  He waved her words away. “Don’t bother, Amber. This has been a dream of mine ever since I heard about our bright and shiny friend. I see people like you, people like Milo and Buxton, and I wonder – why not me? What’s so wrong with me that I don’t get to share in all this wonderful, unholy power? I don’t even want anything, that’s the funny part. I’m not asking him for anything – all I want is the power to harvest him some souls.”

  “You’re going to kill me?”

  Edgar nodded. “Blood sacrifice. The clue’s in the name.”

  “You think he’ll want to talk to you after you’ve killed one of his demons?”

  Edgar laughed. “Oh, so now you are one of his demons, eh? You changed that particular tune pretty darn quick.”

  “Edgar, you need to think about this,” said Amber. “In the past few weeks, I’ve made mistakes and people have died. I killed—”

  Edgar laughed. “It’s really touching to see how concerned you are for my conscience, but you’re hardly the first girl I’ve killed. Oh dear, I’m sorry, did you think that you were? Oh Lord, no. I’ve been killing lovely young ladies for a long time now. Some of them in situations like this, as a blood sacrifice. Some of them because they deserved it. Some of them just because I felt like it. America’s monsters don’t all have horns, you know. Some of them are just ordinary people. Like me.”

  “Milo will find you.”

  “I’ll deal with Milo.”

  “He’ll kill you,” Amber said, through clenched teeth.

  “I have his car. Separate Milo from his car for any length of time, and what is he? He’s just a man. But me? I’ll be a demon.”

  He slid a knife from his jacket.

  She forced a snarl on to her face. “You think he’s not on his way here right now?”

  “He’s busy tracking Buxton. Besides, he doesn’t know where we are.”

  “He’s the Ghost of the Highway,” she said. “He’s linked to that car. It’s a part of him. Wherever it is, he’s able to find it.”

  For the first time, she saw a brief flicker of doubt in Edgar’s eyes.

  “You kill me,” she said, “and it works, and you arrive in the Shining Demon’s castle and he gives you what you want, you know what’s going to happen then? You’re going to arrive back here and Milo will be waiting. And he’s not going to give you even a moment to test out your brand-new demonic powers. He’s just going to shoot you right in the face. You think you stand a chance? You think he’s going to miss?”

  Edgar didn’t say anything.

  “He’s a good shot,” said Amber. “And you’ve got a big frikkin’ head.”

  Edgar put the knife away. “Then I’ll just move the car down the street,” he said. “You don’t go anywhere, you hear?”

  She watched him walk out, keeping the snarl on her face, but the moment he was gone she reverted. The handcuff didn’t get any looser around her wrist, but her hands, those small hands of hers …

  She gritted her teeth against the pain and started to pull her hand out. For a moment, it felt like her bones were going to pop, or she was about to scrape all her skin off, but then her hand moved, and she bit her lip to stop from crying out. It was working. It was going to work.

  Headlights moved across the walls, but the engine she heard didn’t belong to the Charger. The idea flashed into her head that maybe Milo had found her, that everything she’d said about him being able to track down his car was true.

  She redoubled her efforts to free herself. She was not going to let him rescue her. She’d never hear the end of it.

  With a hiss of pain, Amber pulled her hand free and immediately shifted to get rid of the pain. Picking up Edgar’s crowbar, she ran to the door, just as her father called her name.

  AMBER THREW HERSELF DOWN, scrambling behind cover.

  “We know you’re there, Amber!” Bill shouted. “We know you’re listening!”

  She took a peek. Two cars, engines off but the headlights still on, and Bill and Betty walking into the blinding glare, taking centre stage in full demon form.

  “Come on out, honey!” Bill shouted, his long shadow dancing around the yard. “We’ll make it quick and painless, I promise!”

  Amber moved slightly so she could see the Charger. She glimpsed Edgar, cowering in the darkness behind it.

  “It’s me, Amber,” said Betty, clasping her hands and holding them over her heart. “It’s Mommy. We are so sorry for scaring you. We really are. And we feel so, so bad for everything that’s happened – but you know why we had to do it, don’t you? You understand. I know you do.”

  “Come on out, honey.” Bill wrapped his arm round his wife, and she rested her head against his shoulder. He kissed her horn. “You won’t feel a thing, and then it’ll all be over.”

  Amber moved backwards, and took the stairs up. Even there, she could hear their voices.

  “It’s the Shining Demon,” Betty said. “The deal we made with him, the things we’ve had to do to fulfil our end of the bargain … None of this is what we wanted, Amber. None of it.”

  Amber emerged into a large, empty space that smelled of sawdust. Windows lined each side, and she crossed to the nearest one, peeking out. In the darkness behind the headlights, she saw Alastair and the others, but the gloom was too pervasive to make anyone out clearly.

  “We didn’t want to scare you,” Betty continued, “or chase you. We didn’t want to drive you to associate with the … the people you’ve been associating with. We just wanted our baby, in her short life, to be happy. To be loved. This has all gone so wrong.” Betty turned, buried her head in Bill’s shoulder.

  He patted her back. “It’s okay, sweetheart. Amber understands. Amber, you understand, don’t you? Come out here right now. The life we gave you is ours to take away. It doesn’t belong to you.”

  “Please, baby,” Betty cried. “Don’t make this any harder on me.”

  Anger boiled in Amber’s throat as she watched her parents look at each other sadly.

  No one’s buying this, she wanted to shout. No one’s believing this. Why are you bothering to pretend?

  But she kept quiet.

  Bill turned slightly, beckoned with a finger, and the others came forward out of the darkness.

  Amber stiffened as Imelda was shoved into the light.

  Imelda fell. Her hands were bound behind her and she had a gag over her mouth. Her clothes were torn and, even from where she sat, Amber could see the bloodstains. Most distressing of all was that the tip of one of Imelda’s horns had been snapped off.

  Bill dragged her through the dirt. They got to the pyramid of broken pipes and he held her face mere inches away from a jagged piece of metal. “If you don’t come for
ward right now, young lady, we’re going to kill your dear Auntie Imelda. She had us fooled, she really did. I genuinely thought she despised you from the moment you were born. We all did. But we couldn’t see into her nasty, treacherous little heart.”

  “Does Imelda deserve to die?” Betty asked, walking with her hands out, imploring the entire dockyard. “Yes, she does. But does she deserve to die tonight? Does she deserve to die in your place, in unbelievable pain? Well, that is something only you can answer, Amber. What do you think?”

  “We’re going to count down from ten,” Bill shouted. “Nine. Eight.”

  Amber couldn’t let it happen. She just couldn’t. Imelda was the only person in the world who loved her. She thought she’d lost her before – she couldn’t handle losing her again.

  Amber ran back down the steps. They didn’t see her running towards them until she dropped the crowbar and stepped into the light. Bill stopped at the count of three.

  “I’m here,” said Amber.

  “Well now,” said Kirsty, “don’t you scrub up well?”

  “I told you she was beautiful,” said Betty.

  “My daughter,” said Bill. “Who would have thought it?”

  “Let her go,” Amber said. “Let Imelda go and you can have me.”

  Bill smiled, pulled Imelda to her feet, and led her back to the group. From this close, Amber got a good look at the beating they’d given her.

  “Wait,” said Alastair, stepping forward. “Bill, Betty … I have an alternative. We don’t have to kill Amber. You hear that, Amber? You don’t have to die. You impressed me, back in Indiana. You’re strong. Fierce, even. You’re someone to be admired. You’re like us.”

  “Ooooh,” said Grant. “I get it. You dog.” He laughed.

  “With your permission,” Alastair said to Bill and Betty.

  Amber’s parents looked at each other.

  “I don’t like it,” Bill said.

  “What other choice do we have?” asked Betty. “Amber, honey, would you consider it? Joining us?”

  Amber frowned. “What?”

  “Imelda’s a traitor. She can’t be trusted anymore. She’s out. And so the six of us are cut down to five.”

  “Unless you join,” said Alastair. “You wouldn’t have to do anything right now. Grant and Kirsty have already stepped up to the plate.”

  Kirsty beamed, and patted her belly. “We’re just thrilled.”

  “And seventeen years from now,” Alastair continued, “it would have been my turn with Imelda. But with Imelda gone … I’m going to need a new mate.”

  “I’m really not comfortable with this,” Bill muttered.

  “Why not?” Alastair said. “She’s strong, she’s beautiful, she’s formidable. In seventeen years, she’ll be thirty-three – a good age to start a family.”

  “No,” said Amber. Astonishingly, after everything that had happened, she was shocked. “Just no. No to joining you, no to being a part of this … this sick cycle of murder, and definitely no to mating with you.”

  Alastair held up his hands. “I’m not saying it won’t be weird, but you’ll get used to the idea if you just give it a try.”

  “Screw you. I’d rather you eat me.”

  “Sweetie,” said Betty, “you’re not thinking this through. It might be for the best. Wouldn’t it be nice, to be a family again?”

  “A family?” said Amber. “With you and Bill? After what you’ve done? After what you’ve tried to do? We’re not a family anymore, Betty – we never were. You’re my parents by some unfunny cosmic joke, but we are not family.”

  “She’s made her decision,” said Bill. “We kill her, we eat her, just like we’d planned.”

  “Bill, wait,” said Betty. “Give her a chance to think about it.”

  “She’s not going to change her mind,” Bill said irritably. “Have you ever known her to change her mind when she’s in a mood like this? She’d rather die than admit that she’s wrong. She’d rather die just to spite us. You know how wilfully obstinate she is, Betty.”

  “Bill, come on,” said Alastair.

  “Don’t come on me. In a lot of ways, all this is your fault. You couldn’t keep Imelda happy and now—”

  Alastair dived at Bill, and only Grant and Betty held him back.

  “Each couple looks out for each other,” said Bill. “You think I’d have let Betty stray so far? You think I wouldn’t have noticed her attitude changing? You think she wouldn’t have noticed a change in me? Has Grant let Kirsty totter out on the precipice? Has Kirsty been so inattentive that Grant finds himself alone with his doubts? We back each other up, Alastair. That’s the deal we made, ourselves, when all this started. We would be each other’s rock. We stayed true to that idea. You didn’t.”

  Alastair pushed himself free of the hands restraining him. “You’re not going to blame this on me,” he said. “You and Betty were married before we ever talked to the Shining Demon. Grant and Kirsty were in love. But me? I barely knew Imelda, and yet suddenly she was a part of our group and I was told, hey, this is the woman you have to spend the rest of your life with. This is your mate from now on. There will be no others. I never loved her.”

  “She never loved you, either,” said Kirsty.

  Alastair glared. “I don’t care. You get that? I don’t give a damn. I was forced into this with her by my side and the rest of you were too busy gazing into each other’s eyes to notice that Imelda was the weak link in the chain. But now we have a chance to replace that link with someone stronger.”

  “From the look on her face, I don’t think my daughter loves you,” said Betty.

  “She’ll grow to.”

  “If Imelda didn’t, why would Amber?”

  “What’s our alterative? Kill them both? We don’t know what that would do to how the power is divided between us.”

  “You’re not killing Imelda,” said Amber, “and you can shut up about all that other stuff. Bill’s right. I’m not going to change my mind. Let Imelda go, and you can take me.”

  “We could take you, anyway,” said Kirsty. “You really think you can outrun us all?”

  “No,” said Amber, “but I’d fight you all the way. If you let Imelda go, I won’t resist, as long as you promise not to make it painful.”

  The demons looked at each other, and Bill glanced at Imelda.

  “You heard her. Get going. You want my advice, you won’t stop running.”

  They stood aside, opening up a way out. Imelda looked at it, then back to Amber. She had tears in her eyes.

  “Go on,” Amber said. “You’ve saved me enough. Now it’s time for me to save you.”

  Imelda sobbed behind her gag, and reverted. Amber felt a sudden wave of affection for the woman, the only person who’d ever shown her real, genuine love, and her heart broke as Imelda turned away.

  But, at the last moment, Imelda whirled, broke into a sprint, running not for the way out but for the pyramid of broken pipes and steel rods. She ran straight into it. Amber screamed her name as Imelda came to a sudden stop, her impaled body hanging limply, her head lolling forward.

  The demons stared in shock.

  Tears streaming down her face, Amber backed away.

  Alastair reached out slowly, like he couldn’t believe what Imelda had done. He pulled her body from the pipes and laid it gently in the dirt. Then he knelt, and the others did the same. For a moment, Amber thought they were genuinely saddened by what had happened.

  Then Imelda moaned softly, and Amber’s hand flew to her mouth as the demons began tearing at Imelda’s clothes, rending and ripping her flesh with their claws, biting and tearing with their teeth, blood flowing as they feasted.

  A wail escaped from between Amber’s lips when Imelda turned her head, her eyes still open, almost as if she could see Amber hidden in the darkness.

  They were eating her alive, and she only died when Bill plucked out her heart.

  SHE WATCHED THEM FROM the darkness as they gorged themselves
on Imelda’s body.

  Once they had finished, they tossed the remains into the dirt and staggered away. It took Amber a few moments to realise they were drunk. Bill and Betty lay on the hood of their car while Grant and Kirsty waltzed through the yellow light, giggling and singing as they tried not to step on each other’s feet. Alastair stumbled around them, muttering to himself. He tried using one of the cars to prop himself up, but he lost his balance, fell slowly and awkwardly, and once he reached the ground he stayed there, curling up and going to sleep.

  Drunken demons, their red skin splattered with red blood.

  Another set of headlights approached. Round headlights, and close together, much closer than any modern car. Amber moved, crouched over, to get a better look as the car neared. She didn’t know what it was called, but it was an old one – from the 1930s or 1940s, the kind with the long fronts and the running boards, the kind that gangsters used to stand on after robbing banks.

  Her parents were on their feet, scrubbing dried blood from their mouths and straightening their clothes. Grant kicked Alastair and Alastair woke, saw the car and scrambled up.

  The car stopped and the engine cut off. A bald old man got out.

  He was small, and stoop-shouldered, and he wore a woollen cardigan over his shirt and tie. He reached back into the car, taking out a big black case, the kind doctors used to carry. Next, he pulled out a folding table, carrying both into the brightly lit circle, to where the demons were waiting. He gave the table to Bill, who set it up. When it was done, the old man placed the bag on top.

  He took out a neat pile of bandages and then six small jars, one at a time, and laid them in a row on the table. Bill stood before the first jar. Betty stood beside him. Only the last jar didn’t have anyone standing before it.

  The old man handed them each a long-bladed scalpel. He was left with one over.

  Bill removed his jacket and rolled up his shirtsleeve. He ran the blade along his red skin and held his forearm over the jar. The blood fell in a steady stream. The others did the same.

  When the jars were full, they placed wooden stoppers in the necks and wrapped their wounds with the bandages.