by Michael Todd
After about two minutes, the wraith froze and began to shake violently. The wind increased as he rose into the air. Damian stopped the prayer and bolted toward Max. He grabbed him by the shoulders and yanked him behind a pile of rubble. The young man nodded in thanks, and Damian patted his shoulder. “This one might be messy.”
They turned, gripped the stone at the top, and peeked over. The entity twisted and writhed, his face fading in and out. Suddenly, he spun sharply and thrust his arm into the air. His spine-chilling voice echoed across the cemetery. “He shall find you, and when he does, all of the fallen will gather at your doorstep.”
Max looked at Damian, who narrowed his eyes. The older priest had no idea what that meant, but it sounded important. With everything regarding Lilith and the cardinal going on, he had a hard time believing it didn’t correlate in some way. Before he could really consider that, the ghost began to glow vividly. Damian pulled Max to the ground, and they huddled together as the entity flared into unnatural brightness before exploding.
Black goo spattered in all directions and coated the grass, narrowly missing the two men. Max wrinkled his nose and put his face in his arm. “Holy ghost hell, that dude smells terrible.”
“How do you think you would smell after a century without a shower?”
They stood and gazed at the destruction. The place was a wreck, but they had managed to fulfill the most important part of the mission. Damian patted Max’s shoulder. “Let’s get a drink.”
Chapter Eight
They found a small pub in the village for drinks before returning home. Max ordered a beer and two shots to calm himself. Ravi pouted when Damian opted for beer instead of whiskey. He had a long drive ahead, and was already exhausted from the day.
The older priest leaned back in his chair and took a sip. After swallowing, he shook his head and laughed. “Oh, man. Seriously, that was crazy.”
Max chuckled and downed his shot. “Yeah, so much for keeping the destruction to a minimum.”
“It wasn’t pretty, but we’re both still alive. The restless spirit is at peace now, and so are we.” Damian savored a mouthful of beer. “There’s nothing quite like a good ale after a near-death experience.”
“Near-death?” Max asked. “I thought we had the situation well in hand.”
His mentor laughed easily. “Yes, from the sound of your girlish screams, you clearly weren’t worried at all.”
“Will I ever hear the end of that?” the trainee asked and looked dejectedly at his beer.
“Not until the end of this meal, at the very least.”
“Then hurry up and finish that steak, old man.”
“You know, other than your panicked shrieks—”
“I did not shriek,” Max protested.
Damian gave him a flat look. “I suspect once the rumors of the ghost die down, the townspeople will talk about the screaming banshee of Castle Combe cemetery for years to come.”
“All I hear is that my actions tonight will live on in local legend,” Max retorted.
His mentor laughed and shook his head. “I wanted to say you did well tonight, but I don’t know if your ego can handle another compliment. Pride is a sin, after all.”
“You really think so?” Max asked. “You think I did well?”
Damian took a sip of his beer and nodded. “You moved fast, you deliberately put yourself in danger to accomplish the mission, and you came back for me when you couldn’t find me. Those are excellent traits in a teammate. Good job.”
Max’s smile slowly widened. “Thanks. I’ll admit it cost me to be brave out there, but I knew I had to. It was you and me, and you couldn’t do it on your own.”
“I’ll drink to that.” Damian lifted his pint glass, his companion clinked it with his, and they drank in cheerful silence.
Max wiped his mouth with a napkin and looked at Damian. “What did the ghost mean before he exploded? He said something like, ‘he shall find you, and the fallen will gather at your doorstep?’ What does that mean?”
Damian glanced at him and forced a smile. He didn’t want the young priest to know that he had his suspicions about what the ghost meant. “Who the hell knows? When I was a merc, demons said wild shit all the time, and no one knew what it meant. It was either random and cryptic or in a language we didn’t speak. I learned not to waste brainpower worrying about it.”
Max eyed him for a moment and nodded in understanding. “So, what do mercs do all day? I know what they do when they’re called out, but what about the rest of the time? And why did you decide to come back to work for the church? From what I heard, it was a pretty good gig working for the Killers. Good money, no lack of adventure, comradery, and family you wouldn’t find anywhere else. I don’t get why you would give that up to deal with the BS you deal with from the Wise Men.”
The waitress refilled their water glasses. Damian swallowed and thanked her, waiting for her to leave before he spoke. He knew mercs weren’t secret anymore, but he still felt strange talking about it in the open where anyone could hear.
He took a sip of his beer and put the glass down, then leaned forward and lowered his voice. “Being a merc now is different. Before Incursion Day, we stayed at the base, hung out together, trained several times a day, and chilled. We went out to different places, but we couldn’t have bank accounts or anything.”
Max looked confused. “Why?”
Damian smiled. “Well, before Incursion Day, being Damned gave you three choices. You could choose death, become a test subject, or join the mercs. There was no government division yet, and if you chose merc, you immediately died to your old life. They would literally bury an empty casket and mourn with your family. So we could go do stuff, but we had to be careful who we ran into. There was a real line there. After Incursion Day, everything changed. You didn’t have to join the mercs or the government. You could go rogue, or you no longer had to fight demons, even if you were Damned.”
Max nodded. “That’s how I thought it was, though I was pretty sure if you were Damned and unaffiliated, you ran the risk of being killed out in the world.”
The priest sighed. “Unfortunately, that’s true. The mercs have changed, though. They work with the government, have lives, homes, and families, and are less constrained. As for why I came back to the church…well, I had never really left. I worked for the church with the mercs, and when the opportunity for this assignment came, I prayed about it and felt God was leading me back to the church fulltime to save lost souls.”
Max thought about it for a second and smiled. “Wow, you really have been through a lot. Have you ever reached a point where you’d rather kill the demon than exorcise it?”
Damian gulped his beer, his gaze shifting to the other patrons. His thoughts wandered back ten years to the battle at the amusement park. He could almost feel the rage that had built in him that night. Max was waiting for an answer and Damian forced a crooked smile.
He wanted to give his assistant the truth but not scare him with his story. “Everyone reaches breaking points throughout their lives. That’s a reality. I have seen things that will never be erased from my memory. But the truth I always hold onto is that when I’m weak, the church reminds me of why I need to be strong. My vows remind me why I need to do it the right way. Without that, we would all succumb to our human instinct for revenge.”
The two fell silent, sipping their beers, lost in their own thoughts. Damian recalled all the times he’d pulled the trigger when he should have opened the bible.
Max considered the future and how he would handle death and heartbreak in the days to come. Would he succumb to the need for revenge, or would he put his faith in the church? Only time would tell, and he hoped he had plenty of that left.
Damian finished the last of his beer and set the glass down briskly. “You ready?”
Max nodded and gulped the last drops in his glass. “Yeah. We have a long ride back. Thanks, man.”
The older man signaled for the waitress and
handed her his card. “No problem. I’ll make sure to put down another favor owed.”
“Great. You should give me the choice on these, though.”
Damian chuckled and signed the receipt. They shuffled out to the SUV and Max looked at Damian, who yawned widely. “You want me to drive?”
“After two shots? Nah, I got this. But thanks, I appreciate it. Sit back and relax.”
Max leaned his head back and stared out the window. Damian gripped the steering wheel tightly and accelerated slowly down the cobblestone streets. As they left Castle Combe and turned onto the main road, his phone vibrated in his pocket. He retrieved it, rolling his eyes at the Secretary’s name on the screen. He knew the call wasn’t to tell them they’d done a good job. Still, he had no other option but to answer.
It was the part of his new job he hated most. As a merc, he didn’t answer to anyone but Korbin, and even when the church did call, they rarely gave criticism or orders. That freedom for all those years had been good. He shrugged, accepting that he had to trade something to do what he felt called to do. Max looked at him, and he showed him the name. “Duty calls, as usual. I can’t even take a nice quiet car ride for five minutes. I guess I should have expected it. She knows when I’m sleeping and when I’m awake.”
The trainee raised an eyebrow. “The Secretary is Santa Claus?”
“Not even close to being that jolly.” Damian pressed the Answer button with a huge grin. “Good to hear from you, Secretary. I assume you’re calling to tell me how well Max and I did at the cemetery? It means a lot to me that you took the time to call, but you didn’t have to do so this late.”
She coughed lightly. “It amazes me that I order you not to destroy, and yet you leave chaos in your wake wherever you go. I did consider switching it up and telling you to go nuts but decided reverse psychology would be wasted on you. I’d be left holding the bag for the fireball from hell you unleashed.”
Damian smirked. “Glad you liked our work. Next time, maybe expect less when a giant ghost throws caskets full of bones at our heads. Mm-kay? Great. Thanks for the consideration.”
The Secretary sighed. “As much as I love to go back and forth with you, that’s not why I’m calling. I need you to take a detour—the next exit coming up.”
He looked at the sign as they passed it and eased his foot off the gas to slow as they approached the ramp. “You know, I told myself today that maybe it’s good she always knows where I am. Then I thought, yeah, sure. I’ve always wanted someone looking over my shoulder every second of the day. I always wanted an extra pair of eyes when I take a shower to make sure I reached all the spots on my back. You know, those hard-to-reach places.”
Damian took the exit and pulled off on the side of the road. He flipped the overhead light on and tapped his fingers on the steering wheel. “Okay, boss. I’ve taken the exit. What would you like me to do?”
The Secretary typed quickly, the noise clicking in his ear. “Hold on one second. I’m sending it to you.”
Suddenly, the GPS turned on, and a thin red line trailed across the map on the screen. Damian tapped it with his finger and narrowed his eyes. “That’s fucking weird. I won’t lie. This shit borders on apocalyptic.”
She exhaled a sharp breath. “Seriously? You fight demons trying to take over the world and worry that I can turn your GPS on from here? Perhaps you should rethink the priorities here. Besides, your car is ours. Of course, I can control certain things from here. Trust me, it’s not magic. I don’t have a cauldron and a wand. A voodoo doll, maybe, but a wand, no.”
“I thought my back pain was worse than normal.”
“Mmm. And don’t worry. Tonight, the pain will move to another spot. Your legs and kneecaps are still in perfect condition. I’ll make sure to remedy that with some pins and a bottle of wine.”
Damian wasn’t entirely sure she was joking, so he opted for the directions. “So, Voodoo Queen, where am I going?”
The Secretary chuckled. “A village fifty miles away. There is a church in the center of the town. Don’t worry, this place is teeny-tiny, and there is only one church. The three Wise Men are already waiting for you at the side entrance.”
He slouched and groaned loudly. “God, what did I do now?”
She cleared her throat. “You don’t have to call me God. ‘Secretary’ will suffice. And nothing that I know of, but you have fifty miles to go, so anything can happen.”
Damian shook his head firmly. “Nope. Not tonight. I won’t veer from this path. It will be an unexciting fifty-mile drive.”
“Good to know. I believe they have something to discuss with you about another mission they want you to go on. This one is pretty hush-hush, and they said you have to know before I’m briefed. I wish I could tell you more. Actually no, I lie. I like to see you sweat.”
“Very funny. All right, we’re on our way. At this time of night, it shouldn’t take more than an hour and a half or so to get there.”
The Secretary was about to hang up when she remembered something. “Oh, and don’t forget, leave Max in the car. You know how the Wise Men are about that. They don’t want him in the meetings yet.”
Damian sneered. “Lucky bastard.”
She stifled a laugh. “Have fun. And please hide those bags of guns. You know what will happen if they see them.”
The priest looked into the rearview mirror at the two duffel bags tucked in the dark corner. He was about to ask her how she knew when the line clicked. He dropped the phone in the cupholder.
Max raised an eyebrow. “New mission?”
Damian sighed. “Not yet, but soon. The Wise Men want to talk to me about it in person in a small town about fifty miles from here.”
Max straightened and brushed imaginary crumbs from the front of his shirt. “Oh, I didn’t realize we were meeting them.”
He shook his head. “No worries. They aren’t ready for you to join the party. Yet again, you have been blessed by Lady Luck. You get to sit in the car and wait for me to come back with half my dignity intact.”
The young priest chuckled. “Don’t worry, you always walk around like that.”
Damian shot him a dirty look and smirked as they drove on in silence.
Chapter Nine
The SUV moved slowly through the small village. The cobblestone streets were so narrow that Damian wondered if he should even drive on them. The village was so small that it seemed stuck in the past, and the two priests looked at the few people who were still out as they passed them. While some appeared normal, others were dressed as they would have been a hundred years earlier.
To Damian, the place was eerie. Old stone houses, some with thatched roofs, lined the roads.
Max leaned his head against the cold glass and smiled. “I like this village. It’s quaint and quiet. I half expect everything to be lantern-lit. From the looks of the crap piles on the street, it doesn’t seem like they drive anything but horses, either. It’s homey and warm, which is what I miss most about being human.”
Ravi scoffed. Are you kidding me? If I want to immerse myself in the past, I’ll turn on the goddamned History Channel. This place is creepy as fuck. I half-expect these villagers to have red eyes, torches, and pitchforks. I want to go home to our chair by the fireplace.
Damian glanced at the church ahead. Trust me, you’re not alone. I want to go home too. Unfortunately, the triplets want to see me, and I have to oblige.
The demon growled. I don’t understand why you put up with them. Seriously, you have worked for the church for decades.
Think of it this way. People work for companies for thirty or thirty-five years before retiring. Do you think that because they worked there for so long, they disrespect their bosses?
Well…no.
He nodded. These guys are my bosses so I won’t pick a fight with them. They are the soothsayers, the healers, and the men of God I answer to. Let’s get through it and move on from there.
Ravi groaned. Fine, but make this fast and furio
us, please. I don’t feel like tea and crumpets with those creepy-ass guys.
Not a problem. I feel the same way. Hopefully, we’re in and out. These guys don’t want to hang out with me any more than I want to be there.
Damian braked sharply as a dog ran across the street. The priests exchanged bemused glances as they edged forward slowly and stopped two blocks up in front of the small white church. Max couldn’t imagine it holding more than thirty people, but then the village probably had less than three hundred residents.
The windshield fogged slightly in the cold late-night air. Max turned his head and huffed. “Are you sure I can’t tag along? I mean, what would they do if I came in with you? Would they refuse to give you the new assignment?”
Damian snorted. “Probably. They are some of the most stubborn people I’ve ever met, stuck in the old church ways. They tend to frown on our new and lively ways of doing things. To be honest, they would probably kick you out. Once you stand in front of them, I promise you wouldn’t fight them. They may be old, but they’re intimidating.”
Max folded his arms and pouted. “You leave me out of things wherever we go. First the Wally thing, then those books you read. This is simply another moment where I’m pushed aside.”
The older priest shrugged into his jacket. “Remember, this isn’t on me. I don’t make the rules or decisions for these men. I know what is required, and I obey. Right now, the standing order is that Max doesn’t sit with the Wise Men yet. Anyway, I don’t know why you’re so upset. I’m dead serious when I say that you’re lucky to be excluded. They’re not the most exciting people and are known to be bullies. Besides, do you want to meet them in a dirty pair of jeans and a sweater?”
