Demon Lights

by Michael M. Hughes

  Ray stared at the fiery carnage below. “Then they must be feeding well right now.”

  Claire put her hand on his shoulder. “We have friends in the inner realms, too. The balance shifts, because the universe abhors an imbalance. It has always been this way. But all of the seers and prophets said there would be a climax, a power struggle like nothing ever seen before. We knew it was coming, but the speed and intensity took us by surprise. In that, we failed.”

  “But what does she get out of this?” Ray asked. “If the planet is a smoking ruin, what good does that do her?”

  Claire shook her head. “I can’t pretend to know her mind. But perhaps she has made a deal. She is a whore for power, that is clear, and the destruction of so much life, and the concentration of suffering, will fill her and her allies with untold energy. Maybe she will be queen of whatever new world emerges from the ashes.”

  “Not if I have anything to say about it,” Mantu said.

  “Or I,” Claire said. “So we must keep faith. We have many great souls helping us behind the scenes. In my darkest moments, I can feel them working in their own ways to support us. And maybe in other parts of the world there are others, brothers and sisters like us, playing out their roles. I can only hope.”

  Ray nodded. He was finding it hard to be hopeful, especially knowing they were on a one-way trip straight into Lily’s lair.

  —

  “I’m not sure about this,” Burnham said.

  They were all clustered in the cockpit. Below them, the shadows from the setting sun stretched across a bleak, desolate grassland. A rectangular building sat at the end of a dirt road, ringed by a few vehicles. What looked like an overturned, burned-out pickup truck lay in a ditch on the side of an overgrown runway.

  “Doesn’t look good,” Mantu said. “If any of our people were in there, they would have heard us. I think somebody got here before us. And that torched truck doesn’t make me feel very welcome.”

  “I think we should see what happened,” Claire said. “They knew we were coming. Maybe they had to leave. They could have left us a message.”

  “I don’t know,” Burnham said. “We’re almost running on fumes. There are tanks down there—see those big yellow suckers? They’re full of Jet B, which is made for cold weather. But what if it’s a setup? One hit with a rocket launcher and we’re all roasted toasties.”

  Claire frowned. “Do we have any other options?”

  Burnham looked at a paper map unfolded next to him. “There’s a private airport about a hundred and fifty klicks east. We might make it, if the wind cooperates. But if not, we’re stuck out of gas in the middle of nowhere. And if we get there, there’s no guarantee we’ll be able to refuel. Place might be a giant hole in the ground now.”

  “Sounds like we don’t have much choice,” Ray said.

  Mantu slapped him on the back. “Well, let’s make sure we’re prepared. I hope you kids remember what you were taught at the firing range.”

  —

  Ray’s heart was hammering as the copter landed. In spite of the temperature he was sweating inside the Russian camouflage jacket. The metal of the AK was cold in his shaking hands.

  “Push down the safety,” Mantu said.

  Ray clicked the safety off. He heard Claire and Mantu doing the same.

  “And keep your finger away from the trigger,” Mantu added. “Remember, we’re surrounded by jet fuel. And bullets ricochet.”

  Ray swallowed. He still hated guns, and he had never learned to shoot very well. But he had to admit having it in his hands felt comforting. He just prayed he didn’t have to use it.

  “Vinod, you ready?”

  Vinod was at the controls for the door. He was blinking furiously. “Ready, Brother Mantu.”

  The steel walls shuddered as the aircraft touched the ground.

  “When Vinod drops the door, just stay put,” Mantu shouted. “I’ll go first. Just keep your eyes on me. If I wave, come on out. Stay low to the ground.” He glanced at Ray. “And don’t point that fucking thing anywhere near me, please.”

  Burnham’s voice came through the speaker. “All right. I’m keeping her ready in case we have to get out of here fast. Good luck, y’all.”

  Mantu nodded to Vinod. “Okay, open her up.” He raised the butt of the gun to his shoulder.

  Cold air filled the interior as the door opened. It was almost dark, but Ray could still see the dim shape of the building about a hundred feet in front of them. The roar of the rotors was deafening, and the wind from the blades whipped the dirt into clouds and flattened the grass in waves.

  “Be careful,” Claire shouted.

  Mantu slowly descended the steps.

  Ray clutched the rifle, trying to steady his shaking hands. Mantu crept forward, his gun pointed at the darkness behind the open door. Ray kept his gun’s sight on the empty doorway. There were no windows, so unless someone was hiding in the three vehicles parked nearby, any danger was going to come out of that door. When Mantu approached the building, he quickly drew himself up against the wall. He held out his palm—stay—and crouched as he leaned around, his AK held in front of him, to peer through the door.

  And then he vanished inside.

  “Shit,” Ray shouted. “We should go.”

  Claire held her mouth to his ear. “No. He said to wait.”

  “Fuck.” Ray gritted his teeth.

  They watched, and waited, Ray keeping his sight just to the right of the doorway. The wait seemed interminable. The gun grew heavy in Ray’s sweaty hands but he didn’t dare lower the barrel. Mantu’s life could depend upon his reflexes.

  Ray’s breath froze in his chest. Mantu stepped out, his gun lowered. He waved to them.

  “Oh, thank the gods,” Claire said.

  Mantu walked to the front of the copter. He looked up into the windshield and ran his finger across his throat. Cut the engine. When he got back to the open door of the building Claire and Ray approached, guns at their sides.

  “It’s empty?” Ray asked.

  Mantu grimaced. “It’s not pretty in there,” he said. Vinod and Burnham joined them.

  “Konstantin is gonna stay at the controls in case we have to bug out,” Burnham said. “I don’t care if there’s no one here. I’ve got a bad feeling.”

  Mantu nodded. “Yeah. It’s bad, all right.” He wiped sweat off his forehead.

  “What happened?” Claire asked.

  Mantu stared into the empty field around them. “Burnham, why don’t you and Vinod check the vehicles? Especially that overturned truck. See if you can find anything, and meet us right back here, okay?”

  Burnham looked at Mantu, then Vinod, and nodded. “Let’s go, brother Vinnie,” he said. The two headed off to the charred truck.

  Mantu put his hands on his companions’ shoulders. “I didn’t want Vinod to have to see this.”

  Ray grimaced. His stomach was already fluttering.

  “Let’s go,” Claire said.

  Mantu pulled a flashlight out of his jacket pocket. “Follow me.”

  The room had been ransacked. The floor was littered with paper, folders, an overturned office chair, and a busted laptop, its keys scattered like teeth. The remains of a fire had dusted the walls with black ash. Dust hung in the flashlight beam. “You can leave your guns on that desk,” Mantu said. “But put the safety on first, please.” Ray and Claire placed their guns carefully on the desk. Mantu led them to another door. It hung on one hinge, and the lock had been gouged out of the wood. It made a sharp cracking sound as he pushed it open. “Cover your nose,” he said.

  It was too late. Ray gagged.

  Claire pulled her scarf across her face. “My gods,” she said.

  At first, it was nearly impossible to make out what had happened. The room was large, and Mantu’s flashlight beam played across what looked like scattered pieces of several mannequins. Limbs, torsos, hands…

  Ray turned and bolted out of the room. He sat outside, his stomach heaving, d
esperately trying to keep down its contents. No no no. He could not unsee what the flashlight had revealed—the mangled limbs, the hunks of flesh and bone, the walls and floor crusted with blood, and the head, eyes sunken into the skull, mounted atop a sharpened stick. He squeezed his eyes shut, but the image wouldn’t go away. He inhaled the freezing air deeply, struggling to rein in his hyperventilation.

  A few minutes later Claire returned. Her face was ashen. “Are you okay?” she asked.

  “No,” he said.

  She put her head in her hands. “Me neither.” They sat in silence. When Vinod returned, he took one look at Ray and Claire and sat down next to them without a word. “I don’t want to go in there, I don’t think,” he said. Claire put her arm around him.

  Mantu came out of the door carrying their rifles. He set them down on the concrete and rubbed his eyes, then sat down next to Vinod. “Jesus. That is some fucked-up shit.”

  “What do you think…I mean, who could have done that?” Claire asked.

  Mantu shook his head slowly. “It wasn’t random violence. It wasn’t a robbery or some kind of raid because I found a whole stash of canned food and water in the closet. This was a message.”

  “For us,” Claire said.

  Ray stood. “They knew we were coming.” The sun had gone down, and the wide, flat expanse around them seemed to extend into an infinity of darkness.

  Mantu nodded. “They knew our itinerary. So they killed the brothers and sisters who were waiting here for us. I think there were three men and two women. But it’s hard to say.”

  Burnham emerged from the darkness. He looked at them, then shook his head. “No good news, I see,” he said. He was greeted by silence. “Then I’m sorry to have to add to the bad news.”

  They all stared at him.

  “When I got near the fuel tanks I could smell it, just faintly. Then I checked the tanks. They had been emptied. Someone just opened up the hoses and let it run into the ground. Then they rolled the hoses back up. Like some kind of joke.”

  “Fuck.” Ray pressed his fists against his head.

  The wind whipped up, and the only sound breaking the silence was the hiss of air through the tall grasses. Finally Claire spoke up. “So, our only chance is that airport you mentioned. Can we fly there now? I don’t like sitting out here in the open.”

  Burnham paced. “I don’t want to fly at night. If we’re lucky we have just enough fuel left to make it. And we’ll be going in blind in the dark. I can’t risk that.”

  “We should all spend the night in the copter,” Mantu said. “Two can stand guard with the night vision goggles. If anyone approaches we’ll see them. Burnham, you and Konstantin will have to take shifts at the controls in case we need to haul ass out of here.”

  Burnham nodded. “You got it, brother.”

  Mantu walked over to Ray. “I don’t think you’re getting much sleep any time soon, homeboy. Why don’t you stay up and keep me company.”

  Ray nodded. “Yeah. Sure.”

  They filed off into the helicopter, one by one, no one speaking as they climbed the stairs.

  —

  “Christ, it’s cold,” Ray said. He was drinking a Coke that Mantu had liberated from the storage closet and the cold metal of the can nearly stuck to his lips. They were sitting a dozen yards from the copter, back to back on a blanket, rifles across their laps.

  “This is like the goddamn Bahamas compared to where we’re heading,” Mantu said. He was wearing the bulky night vision goggles. Ray had taken his off after an hour of seeing nothing, not even an animal.

  “Do you think we’ll find fuel at this airport Burnham’s talking about?”

  “Fuck if I know. But if we don’t, you gonna give up?”

  “No way.”

  “Me neither. If we don’t fly, we find ourselves a couple of pickup trucks, put a few of those snowmobiles in the back, and convoy up to the frozen-ass Yukon.”

  “Shouldn’t take more than a month,” Ray said. “If we don’t starve to death. Or get killed by whoever killed those poor people in there.” He shivered, watching his breath steam in the icy air. “It feels pretty hopeless, Mantu.”

  “C’mon, Ray. How many times have we been in worse situations? Seriously, man. Crawford had you chained up like a dog. He was ready to kill your woman right in front of you, and you didn’t give up. You carried her on your back with broken ribs until I found you.”

  “I don’t want to think about that,” Ray said.

  “Fine. When Lily’s bug venom was eating away at your brain, you think that was better than this? We’re alive, brother. Isn’t that something? Me, you, Claire, my motherfucking man Vinod, Burnham, and that vodka-guzzling Russian. With a helicopter the size of a fucking 747 loaded with guns and ammo. The whole world is turning into a pile of shit, but look at us—it doesn’t seem so bad. Shit, brother, one day maybe they’ll make a movie about us. Can you imagine that?”

  “No. I can’t.”

  Mantu ignored him. “I’d better play myself, because nobody can do Mantu like Mantu. Starring Mantu, as himself, and costarring some sexy nineteen-year-old black honey so I can show the world who put the man in Mantu, if you know what I’m saying.”

  Ray smiled in spite of himself. “I don’t think there are movies anymore. Hollywood is probably toast like every other city.”

  “You are a real downer, you know that, Ray. Just when I was fantasizing about all the sweet supermodel pussy I was gonna get, you have to go and take a steaming shit on my dreams.”

  “You sure we can’t build a fire?”

  “Fuck no. Might as well put up a neon sign that says, COME KILL US, PLEASE.”

  Ray sighed. “Yeah, I guess that would be stupid. But freezing to death is stupid, too.”

  “It’s almost time for the next watch. So we can sleep inside the freezing cold hunk of metal instead of out here in the wind.”

  Ray pulled his hood tight against his face. He wondered if Ellen and William were warm, wherever they were. “The last time I saw Ellen she was getting on a Ferris wheel with William. We’d had a big fight that day. A really bad one. She was sick of all the running, sick of living in the shitty little village in Guatemala. And she just finally let it all out.” He breathed deeply, the cold air burning in his throat. “But then we got to that carnival, and William was so happy. And she kissed me right before she got on the ride. And that was it. Up she went, and my whole life just disappeared. Everything, just…gone.”

  Mantu took off his goggles and rubbed his eyes. “How about we turn in for the night. We could both use some sleep.”

  Ray stood. His knees cracked. “Yeah. Do you think—” The words caught in his throat. A bright orange light passed above them in the darkness, streaking across the sky. “Look,” he said, pointing.

  Mantu followed his finger. “Holy shit,” he said.

  The light continued its trajectory, then disappeared on the northern horizon.

  Ray picked up his rifle. He’d seen more than enough strange lights in his time. Whatever it was, he wasn’t going to stay outside to find out.

  —

  Mantu was shaking him awake. It felt like he had slept for only ten minutes, but muted sunlight was coming through the copter windows.

  “Someone’s coming,” Mantu said.

  Ray jumped out of the sleeping bag. The cold hit him right away. Mantu ran down the steps and out onto the plains, his rifle in one hand at his side, quickly followed by Burnham. Claire sat up in her sleeping bag, her hair sticking in all directions. “What’s going on?” she asked.

  Ray was already pulling on his jacket. “Someone’s out there,” he said. He grabbed his nearby rifle and descended the copter’s stairs. The sun hadn’t risen, but the sky was light enough that he immediately saw the truck in the distance. It was enormous, a tanker of some sort, its headlights winding along the road to their position. Mantu was crouched behind a pickup. Across from him, Konstantin and Vinod hung close to the doorway of the buil
ding, Konstantin with his gun aimed ahead, Vinod staring through a set of binoculars.

  “Who are they?” Ray asked as he crouched down next to Mantu.

  Mantu kept his gaze on the approaching truck. “No idea. But I’m not taking any chances after what we found inside that building.”

  “Where’s Burnham?” Ray asked.

  Mantu pointed to the overturned truck. “Covering us. So they can’t take us all out at once.”

  The motor grew louder. The tanker rounded a turn in the road, and Ray saw the huge, black letters on the side of the tank: PEXCO. Then it turned and headed straight toward them. But it wasn’t going fast. Just slowly rolling along.

  “Hey!” Claire waved from inside the aircraft.

  “Stay there,” Mantu shouted. She made an okay sign and disappeared back into the darkness. But Ray saw the end of her rifle barrel extending a few inches beyond the door’s frame.

  As the truck approached, Ray rested the rifle against the hood of the pickup, keeping the gun’s sight on the windshield of the oncoming vehicle. He could make out a driver and a passenger, but they were just blurs behind the glass, and the headlights were making it impossible to see any details. He pushed off the safety and rested his finger next to the trigger. The cold metal made his hands ache.

  Vinod lowered the binoculars and whispered to Konstantin, who turned to Mantu and held up four fingers. Four people inside. At least they weren’t outnumbered. Unless others were hiding, but how many people could fit inside the truck’s cab? If this was an attack, it was a strange way to do it, rolling up so slowly and casually. The truck slowed as it got closer, then stopped at the road’s end with a loud whine and hiss of its brakes. The engine shut off, then the headlights, and the only sound left was Ray’s heavy breathing. Then its doors opened up. Ray’s finger touched the trigger lightly. He hoped to God he didn’t have to pull the thing. He still had nightmares about the cop he’d shot in Crawford’s mansion, his face white and aghast as he tumbled down the stairs. Killing was always so easy in the movies, but the last thing he ever wanted to do was shoot another human being.