by Rick Hautala
“This is bad,” Samael said, frowning and looking worried as he took it all in. He appeared to be maintaining his poise, but his shoulders were hunched as if he expected that whoever or whatever had done this might still be here, lurking out of sight…ready to pounce.
“Sally?” Claire called out again, her voice sounding unusually loud in the deserted apartment.
No response except for the buzzing of flies that reminded her of the fur-covered thing that had once been Mittens which she had found in the shower. Claire was convinced that, when they went into the living room or bedroom, they’d find Sally—
Dead!
Still waving her hand in front of her face and gasping for breath, Claire tiptoed through the debris to the living room doorway. A flickering light—several flickering lights, in fact—lit up the living room. A wavering pale, orange glow reached across the floor and painted the doorjamb.
“Sally?” Claire called again, her voice stronger in spite of her twisting nerves.
She stepped on something that sounded like she had crushed a bag of potato chips underfoot. She kept moving forward as she glanced down to see what it was, so when she raised her head and saw Sally in the living room, she let out a squeal of surprise.
She was sitting on the couch, perfectly still and staring down at the floor with a blank, unblinking gaze. Every available flat surface in the room, it seemed, held one or more lit candles. Some were on plates; others were stuck in puddles of melted wax to the surface of the coffee table, chair arms, bookcase shelves, and the floor. Their flickering orange glow filled the room and cast confused, wavering shadows. It took a while for Claire’s eyes to adjust.
She’s dead, was her first thought upon seeing Sally.
Her roommate’s skin looked translucently pale in the glowing light, her cheeks mottled by dark spots that looked like she’d rubbed soot under her eyes. Darker lines that looked like ink streaked her face and hands.
A more rational part of her mind told her that Sally couldn’t possibly be sitting up straight like that if she was dead…not unless who-or-whatever had killed her had propped her up.
Holding her breath, Claire stared at her roomie, waiting…praying to see some sign of life. Anything would do—a slight stirring of breath…a quick blink of the eye. So long as she knew Sally was still alive.
“Sal?…”
No reaction.
Claire moved a few steps closer, her hands poised defensively.
“Are you…all right?”
Still nothing.
“What’s going on, Sal?” Claire felt like she was approaching a cobra, coiled and ready to strike.
She jumped when Sally slowly raised her head and looked directly at her. Her swollen eyes were blank, empty pits. When she moved, her neck bones made faint crackling sounds.
“What do you want?” Sally asked. Her voice was cracked and dry, as if she hadn’t spoken for days. She kept staring at Claire with a blank expression as if she didn’t recognize her.
“I…I came to see why you…why you didn’t make it today,” Claire said.
“Today?…What’s today?” Sally asked. She rolled her head back, exposing the bloodshot whites as she rapidly blinked her eyes a few times.
Claire shot a look over at Samael, who was standing in the doorway.
“Call 911,” she said, and then, turning back to Sally, “Are you okay?”
No answer other than a lingering blank look.
“What happened here?” Claire asked, struggling to keep down the frantic rush inside her. Still getting no response, she said, “I think you need to go to the hospital.”
“The hospital?…Today?” Sally said hollowly. Then she sighed and shook her head slowly from side to side. The sound of the bones in her neck cracking got louder. When she took a breath and exhaled, it sounded like hot, dry wind blowing through the grass.
Claire went to Sally and knelt down in front of her, taking her hands. She noticed her bloody fingernails and the bruises on her wrists—like she’d been tied!
“They’re coming for you, you know,” Sally said softly…tensely. The slow susurration of her voice made it sound like she was mumbling in her sleep.
Before Claire could respond, Sally suddenly jumped as though she’d be hit by an electric jolt. She jerked her hands out of Clair’s grasp and looked at Claire, her face a mask of barely repressed terror. Her eyes cleared, and her face seemed suddenly fuller…more lively.
“What’s that, Sal?”
Claire’s voice shook as a painful clenching gripped her gut. She thought she might know exactly what Sally meant, but she wanted to believe she hadn’t heard her correctly. She cast a quick glance at Samael, who was standing in the living room doorway as if he didn’t dare enter the room.
“I saw them…They’ve been here…” Sally said in a watery rasp.
“Who has?” Claire asked even though she already knew the answer.
Whoever or whatever was trying to stop Samael from abandoning evil was obviously trying to get at Claire and, thus, Samael through Sally. Claire was furious that the forces ranged against them would start by using an innocent bystander like Sally. She didn’t deserve to get dragged into any of this, tied up and beaten to a pulp.
Sally’s eyelids were flickering rapidly as she looked at Claire. And then, without warning, she threw her head back and started to laugh. It certainly wasn’t a joyous laugh. It was low and rumbling, like the sound of distant thunder on a hot summer afternoon.
Sally’s laughter gradually built. It set Claire’s nerves on edge with its sinister tone.
“Wha—what’s so funny?” Claire finally asked, unable to bear the sound any longer and wishing she would stop.
“They did a good job,” Sally said in a voice as low as her laughter.
“What? Who did a good job?”
“They did…They did a good job of imitating my roommate.”
With that, she leaned forward and, gripping the flesh of Claire’s left cheek between her thumb and forefinger, pinched and shook her so roughly it hurt. Claire yelped and pulled away, her face stinging.
“I…I’m not an…an imitation,” Claire said.
Her heart was breaking, seeing her roommate like this. Sally had always been so strong…so independent. To see her reduced to…to this was too much to take.
Claire turned to Samael, who still hadn’t left the doorway,
“Did you call the ambulance? We have to get her out of here. Now.”
Samael stared at her, unblinking for a moment, deep in thought. Then, looking grim, he nodded,
“Not to the hospital, though,” he said.
“Are you nuts?” Claire asked. “Look at her! She needs medical attention!”
“I don’t need to go to the goddamned hospital,” Sally interrupted. Her voice was lighter now, and she sounded perfectly rational. “I’m okay. It’s just…Now that they’re gone…I can get away from them…for a little while, at least.”
Them! Claire thought with a chill. She and Samael exchanged worried glances. She didn’t need to ask who Sally meant by “them.”
“Sal,” Claire said, turning back to her. “I’d like you to come with us—”
As she spoke, she reached out and touched Sally on the shoulder. It was a gentle touch, but it might as well have been a punch to the gut because of the way Sally reacted. She let out an ear-piercing shriek and swatted Claire’s hand away with a vicious blow that, Claire knew, would leave a bruise. Caught by surprise, Claire fell back and scrambled out of Sally’s reach. She clenched her fists and tensed, expecting Sally to attack her, but her roomie settled on the couch, an utterly blank expression on her face.
“Jesus!” Claire said.
“Language. Please,” Samael said with a wry smile.
Claire noticed that he hadn’t moved any closer. He would have been of no help if Sally had gone nuts and attacked her. She looked at him, feeling empty inside.
“What are we going to do?” she asked, not e
ven trying to mask the desperation in her voice.
Samael regarded her steadily, his no longer gold-flecked eyes wide as he shook his head.
“We have to get her to the hospital whether she wants to go or not,” Claire said.
Samael kept shaking his head, and the longer he did, the grimmer his expression became.
“No,” he finally said. “I don’t think we can do that.”
“What?”
“We can’t take her to the hospital.”
Suddenly furious, Claire walked over to him and, bunching up the front of his coat with both fists, pulled him so close their noses almost touched. The heat of her breath rebounded from his face. This close, his eyes looked like deep, dark wells with no bottom.
“Why not? We have to do something!”
Samael couldn’t maintain eye contact for long, and he shifted his gaze away. Between Sally’s condition and Samael’s detachment, Claire was suddenly enraged. She took a deep breath, struggling for calm.
“We’re married now,” she said, her voice low and level. “That means we help each other out.”
In the pause she took to catch her breath, Samael said nothing to fill the void.
“I know you don’t know Sally very well—and I know you don’t like her, but she’s the closest friend I have, and there’s— something’s wrong with her. I’m not—I repeat, I am not going to abandon her.”
“I didn’t say that,” Samael said, surprising her with such a mild tone in his voice. He raised his hands and pried Claire’s hands from the front of his coat.
“What did you say?”
“I said we can’t take her to the hospital.”
“But look at her.”
With a flick of her head, Claire indicated Sally, who was still seated on the couch, staring off into space and looking like she had no idea they were there discussing what to do with her. Dried blood crusted her nose and the corners of her mouth.
“She needs to see someone.”
“But not at the hospital,” Samael said evenly. “Whoever did this to her—and I have a pretty good idea who—could easily gain access to her there and…finish the job.”
“What do you mean, ‘finish the job’?”
“Well…it’s obvious whatever happened to her—whatever she saw—snapped her mind. You don’t think, if they wanted her eliminated, they couldn’t get to her at the hospital?”
“So what do we do?” Claire looked around. “We can’t leave her here. Not like this. And we certainly can’t stay—”
She stopped herself and stared at Samael.
“Hold on. Are you saying what I think you’re saying?”
“Uh-huh. We take her back to my place.”
“But—” Claire glanced over her shoulder at Sally, who remained catatonic on the edge of the couch. Lowering her voice, she said, “—if they come for us, she isn’t going to be any safer with us, is she?”
“She’ll be safer with Michael and me to protect her. I can guarantee that.”
Claire looked back and forth between Samael and Sally. She had no idea what to say or do. It hurt that her love for Samael had caused so much collateral damage to innocent people in her life…her parents, Sally, Marty…When would it end?
But Samael and I…We’re in this together…right to the end…whatever that might be…
“We can take care of her,” he said mildly. “Trust me.”
“I trust you, but…” She punched him on the arm. “Not like I have a choice, right?”
Samael chuckled and kissed her hand where Sally had slapped it. Her skin burned as if she’d been stung by a bee, and that thought brought back the horrifying image of the wasp demon.
“Okay, then,” Claire finally said. Taking a deep breath, she turned to face Sally.
“Sal…Hon’,” she said as she moved cautiously toward her and bent down so their faces were level with each other. Claire felt like she was standing next to a keg of gunpowder, unsure if the fuse had been lit or not.
Sally shifted her gaze and looked at her. An unnaturally wide smile spread across Sally’s face, cracking her swollen lips like she was wearing a mask. Her skin, especially in the orange glow of all these candles, looked livid. Her eyes were vacant.
“Sal, can you hear me?”
Only the slightest of nods indicated that she had.
“I want you to do something for me, Sal. Will you do that?”
“Do what?” Sally asked after a long pause.
“I want you to do me a favor. Do you understand?”
“A…favor?”
Claire noted that she was echoing back whatever she said as if that was all the room she had left in her mind.
“I want you to come with us,” Claire said.
“Come with you.”
“That’s right.”
It took great effort for Claire to keep the rising edge of nervousness out of her voice. She was poised…tensed…ready—she thought—to react if Sally suddenly lashed out at her again.
“Where can we go?” Sally asked, focusing a bit more clearly on her.
“I want you to come with me to—”
“They’re everywhere, you know.” Sally took a deep breath that sounded like a torrent of wind whistling through a small opening. “We can never get away. Not from them. They’ll find me. No matter where we go.”
“They’re not looking for you, Sal.” Claire said. She was painfully aware of the tremor in her voice, but she couldn’t prevent it.
“They’ll find me, no matter where I go. You can’t help me.”
Claire’s throat choked off, and she found it all but impossible to catch her breath.
“You’ll be safe if you come with us. Samael and I will take care of you.”
Claire slowly reached out and placed her hand on Sally’s shoulder. She felt her flinch, but this time—at least not yet—she didn’t lash out. Claire increased the pressure on her friend’s shoulder and then, with her other hand, took hold of Sally’s elbow and, as gently as possible, guided her until she was standing. It was like handling a fragile crystal vase.
“I want to get your coat and help you put it on,” Claire said, her voice as soft and cooing as a dove’s. “And I want you to come downstairs with me and Samael. His car’s parked a ways down the street.”
Sally regarded her with the most pathetic expression—a haunting mixture of terror and confusion and mistrust.
“It’s not far,” Claire said, taking her gently by the arm and urging her to move.
“How do I know I can trust you?” Sally asked. “How do I know you’re not one of them?”
“Sal…It’s me. Claire.”
Sally paused and looked at her intently, like she was studying a specimen. She cocked her head like she was a bird, about to peck some seed…or her eyes.
“I don’t…Do I know you? We went to school together, didn’t we?”
Claire had no idea if she should play along with any delusion Sally came up with or tell her the truth.
And will it matter? She asked herself, thinking…dreading that her roommate was already too far gone. The blankness in her eyes was frightening, and her expression looked like a wall had already gone up behind her eyes, closing out reality.
She doesn’t know the half of it, Claire thought.
“Come along, now,” Claire said, gently guiding her.
Surprisingly, Sally allowed herself to be led into the kitchen where, after a quick search amongst the trash, they found Sally’s coat. It was in the cupboard under the sink, and was covered with spilled coffee grounds and a couple of rotting banana peels. Claire shook the garbage out onto the floor, telling herself it was going to take a Hazmat team to clean this place, anyway.
“There you go,” she said mildly, like she was speaking to a child as she helped her get her arms into the sleeves. Sally seemed to have been reduced to a docile ten-year-old, but when Claire reached to zip the coat up, Sally batted Claire’s hand away like she was wielding a knife at
her throat.
“You ready to go?” Claire asked.
“Go where?” Sally replied.
“You're going to come with us. We’re going to take you to a safe place.”
A wicked smile lit up Sally’s face, and her eyes widened until they were perfectly round, glistening orbs.
“Don’t you try to kid me,” Sally said. “I know exactly what’s going on, and don’t think I don’t.”
Claire refrained from asking her what was going on because she sure as Hell didn’t know. As far as she could see, Sally was completely divorced from reality. If she had any idea what was happening, Claire didn’t want to hear anything she might have to say.
With Samael’s help, they got Sally down the stairs to the first-floor landing. When Samael opened the front door for them, cold air blasted into their faces with such force it took Claire’s breath away. She tucked Sally’s arm into her own and gently guided her down the sidewalk. Samael followed a few steps behind, watching for anything unusual.
It wasn’t long before they made it to Samael’s car. With Sally and Claire huddled in the back seat keeping their heads low, Samael drove. It was only after they had gotten onto I-295 that Claire realized something.
“Where’s Michael? Oh my God. We left him back at the apartment.”
Samael glanced at her reflection in the rearview mirror and smiled.
“Don’t worry. He’ll be all right,” he said.
“Are you sure?” She twisted around in her seat and looked out the rear window as if she expected to see Michael following after them.
“He’s fine,” Samael said.
“That’s what you think,” Sally said with a deep, hollow laugh.
Chapter
14
Sword in Hand
When they got out of the car at Samael’s house, Sally looked up at the entryway with an expression of dazed, childlike wonder. Claire and Samael exchanged worried glances as, each of them holding Sally’s arm above the elbow, they led her from the car, up the marble front stairs, and into the house. Michelle met them at the door and said, “The green room is ready for your guest, sir.”
