The Devil's Highway (Journeyman Book 4)

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The Devil's Highway (Journeyman Book 4) Page 9

by Golden Czermak


  Leaping over a wooden gate decayed with age, Gage felt a slight resistance – almost like he was wading through molasses. It didn’t last but a few seconds, as did the the sudden humidity that appeared out of the cold night air.

  Marcus, noting Gage’s movements spoke to the others. “Seems like a definite illusion barrier. I still wonder why there’s no shield over the place.”

  “Remember lad,” Brandon interjected as his petite goblin form dashed ahead. Marcus really had to resist the urge to blurt out a short joke or two. “These demons are cocky bastards. Once you’re in their grasp I don’t think they fathom you ever getting out again.”

  “Well,” said Adrienne from beneath her disguise, “they're in for a rude awakening.”

  “Be prepared for the smell too,” Gage warned, pinching his fingers to close his nostrils. The others apparently couldn’t hear him through the spell, so he turned to make sure they saw his gesture.

  “Oh this should be great,” said Hammer, already plugging his nose.

  With that, the remaining teammates passed through the barrier and landed in a pile of trash, topped with shavings of something unidentifiable. Whatever the wrinkled pieces were, the stench was absolutely vile – putrid like something had died.

  “Oh my,” Brandon started, realizing that the slivers were pieces of shaved skin, but decided against sharing it with the rest.

  In actuality the others already knew, would, Marcus promptly reaching into his pocket. Out came a small container; just a simple over the counter menthol rub, of which he placed a generous dab into each nostril. He tossed the container over to Gage and stepped forward to look down the short and dimly lit path to the door.

  Marcus saw the building’s crusted façade, no different than the other homes along this and other streets. What stood out was hanging above the doorway – a canopy of body parts dangling like streamers from an array of hooks.

  “That's just brutal,” Brandon said with disgust, diverting his eyes over to the wall lantern. It was no less gruesome there; a severed head covering the lamp, glowing from its eye sockets

  They hadn’t seen or heard any of the outside patrols yet, though faint whines and cries were coming out of the darkness in the back yard, peppered with joyous laughter.

  “Someone’s acting a maggot,” Brandon muttered as he knelt in front of the door, examining the lock.

  “If that means having fun,” said Adrienne, agitation in her voice, “then it’s at someone's expense.” She had already unholstered her dagger and began strolling into the darkness.

  Brandon looked up at Gage with worry. “Gage!” he whispered sharply. “What's your woman up to?”

  “Takin’ care of business,” he replied with a smirk, throwing the invisibility cloak back over himself. “She hates bullies; we’ll be right back.”

  Everyone watched as his boots, the only thing still visible, made their way after her.

  “That couple,” Brandon said, shaking his head slightly.

  “They're definitely made for each other,” Marcus added, watching as the boots finally disappeared. He then gazed back down at Brandon. “Now, how's that lock looking, gremlin?”

  Adrienne walked through the darkness of the back yard, stepping over some surprisingly rough terrain until she came upon a few torch-lit kennels, if the run-down cages and their withered occupants could be called such. There were two demons standing ahead of the squalor, dressed in dirty farming clothes and banging on the tops of the enclosures.

  “This one here Dagon!” said the taller one gleefully, sniffing the air. “Can you smell its fear?”

  “Yeah, Phenex,” the other replied. “I wonder if her insides taste as sweet?”

  The giggling that followed was insipid and Adrienne couldn't wait any longer.

  “Hey!” she shouted curtly. “What do you think you're doing?”

  The demons snapped their heads up quickly, eyes shining in the darkness. She matched them, flicking her own demonically while her lips drew up in an eager sneer.

  “Passing the time, bitch,” said Phenex. “We had too much fun with the new arrival… wore his mortal ass out didn't we Dagon?”

  Adrienne’s eyes glimmered at the reference to Joey. Did he mean what he said figuratively… or literally? Either way her rage continued to build, the grip on her dagger handle ever tighter.

  “Yeah, the skin bag’s brittle as fuck. We really should resume playtime, just to see if he breaks… some more.” Dagon gave Adrienne a scrutinizing look. “Who are you, anyway? One of Dajjal’s ass kissers? What’s any of this is to you anyway?”

  Adrienne felt sick to her stomach, thinking of Joey in this place, solidified as the old woman the demons were tormenting slid back into what looked – and smelled – like a pile of feces.

  “Oh we ain't ass kissers,” came a voice to Dagon’s left. “More like ass kickers!”

  “What in Lucifer’s name …”

  Dagon didn't get a chance to finish, the cold steel of Gage's machete appearing out of thin air before being shoved through his throat. The wound flared yellow, then faded along with the demon’s eyes. He was dead, falling to the floor as the machete vanished behind the cloak once again.

  Phenex stepped back at the sight of his fallen partner, crashing against the kennel. “What the fuck was that?”

  Adrienne was quick, bringing up her dagger as she rushed at him. “That was the same fate as yours.”

  Phenex tried to move out of the way of her attack, but couldn’t; the prisoners in the cage having latched onto anything they could to keep him in place. He looked up as Adrienne arrived, a blinding flash of yellow and red the last thing he ever saw.

  There were gasps as inmates let go of the demon’s body and it slumped to the grass.

  The cage doors then clicked and began to open one by one.

  “Get out of here!” Gage hissed at the prisoners, yanking off his cloak and stuffing it into his bag

  Slowly the humans and monsters crawled out of their confines and set off into the dark of freedom. Gage hoped that they would get away, but he also had plans to make sure nobody would ever be brought back to Eaves Green again.

  Gage and Adrienne made sure everyone had departed, checking the area over twice before they rejoined the group.

  As they approached, Gage noted Brandon was a bit frustrated, his goblin face a lot uglier than usual.

  “Problem?” he asked.

  “A wee one,” answered Brandon sharply.

  Hammer approached. “I gather you took care of what you needed to back there?” he asked Gage respectfully.

  He nodded. “Yeah, they're all free. I dunno if they're gonna make it far – they were in pretty bad shape…”

  “But at least they have a chance now, which is more than they did before.” Adrienne’s hair caught a quick breeze and Gage thought she looked like a goodness.

  “Want me to wipe the drool, G?” Marcus joked, looking back to Brandon. “Obviously lock picking is not your forte.”

  Brandon grumbled something indecipherable as Gage came up and wrenched him away from the door. “Hammer,” he said as he let the goblin go, resuming his grumbling. “I know for a fact that you can get us in there.”

  Hammer smiled, but Brandon had a few apprehensions. “Sooo, what about stealth? Are we tossing that to the four winds? If we bust in there, they’ll be alerted.”

  Gage beamed. “I was worried about bein’ caught before we got to the door, but now we’re here and I think it’s time we sent a message to these red eyed fuckers. Ya don’t mess with a Journeyman’s family, especially when he’s a Crosse.”

  Adrienne smiled at the sentiment, as did Marcus and Hammer too. At last Brandon let loose a favorable grin. “Aye, let’s do this then.”

  Gage felt his heart sing, stepping away from the door with everyone except the biggest of them. “Hammer, it’s all you.”

  “My pleasure,” the beast of a man said as he swung his sledgehammer into the entrance, busting it
open with a tremendous boom.

  Like runners to a starting pistol, the team engaged, pouring into the house. Gage entered the dark interior first, the entrance spilling onto a tiny tiled foyer with an extended hall beyond. The space was tight, lending itself to an uncomfortable air of claustrophobia pressing all around them like a vice.

  Above the walls were simple light fixtures surrounded by cobwebs, the cheapest the builders could install; all were off though the house was likely better for it. The carpet beneath them was hideously patterned, dirty tracks worn down the center. Unsightly wallpaper was in a similar condition, peeling away while streaks resembling bloody handprints drug along the entirety of the walls.

  Everything seemed to lead to a door at the far end, nearly shut but for a small gap along its right edge. It was guarded by two demons, who were already charging down the lengthy stretch of hall.

  The leading fiend came at Gage bearing a metal spike, swiping across his front with the intent to kill. Missing, he stumbled forward and Gage engaged him, righting him with the bottom of his boot before following up with a couple well placed punches.

  Adrienne sprinted past the scuffle on her way down the hall, Marcus close behind. Soon the both of them met up with the other demon and with daggers out and ready, they leapt forward to fight.

  “Let’s do this!” Adrienne cried.

  Marcus couldn’t agree more. “For Joey!”

  THE DARKNESS FADED, replaced by swirls of color and the distant sounds of scuffling.

  Joey couldn’t tell how far open he had his eyes, the blackness always misleading. However, ahead of him the thinnest sliver of light beckoned for his attention.

  Was it a door?

  A way out of this living hell he was in?

  He must have been dreaming, for at last it was something more pleasant than pain and menacing laughter plaguing both his waking and sleeping mind. This was a good dream, and even if it lasted a few more seconds it was the best one he’d had in ages.

  Joey thought that he could see motion beyond the thin line of light, just blobs of shadow, and swore that he could hear fighting getting louder.

  Then some familiar sounds came across his ears. Was that an accented drawl? A woman mumbling?

  Gage… he tried to shout, but there was no noise, the words unable to cross the parched desert that was his throat.

  Adrienne…

  Then, above the fray he heard the familiar deepness of Marcus’ voice, loud and clear like a ringing bell on a still night.

  “… for Joey!” it called and Joey’s chest swelled.

  “Marcus,” he managed to mutter coarsely, thinking of a return to his loving arms just before slipping away into unconscious again.

  BACK IN THE hallway the fighting continued.

  Marcus swiped his hand across the wallpaper, transfiguring a stretch of it into iron powder. The demon couldn’t breathe, inhaling the toxic dust that burned like a sparking fire.

  Adrienne ducked beneath the demon’s flailing arms, swooping around to the back of him where she grabbed his head and guided her blade across his throat.

  “I didn’t know you could do that!” Adrienne said, astonished.

  “Me either,” Marcus said, equally surprised as he looked over his tattoos with a proud smile. “Definitely going to be practicing that some more…”

  There was a loud, gurgling groan from behind them and they turned to see Gage wrapping up his encounter, the machete poking through the demon’s gut. He slung the body to the ground and wiped his blade across his shirt. “Good work every –”

  A massive explosion came from one of the inner walls, churning up a lot of dust while knocking Gage into the floor.

  Brandon raced to his side but was picked up by a beastly claw, slamming him against the opposite wall. As the dust cleared, a demon possessed werewolf was sneering at him, having come racing out of the living room for blood.

  Barely avoiding the wolf’s bite in his goblin disguise, Brandon tried his best to land blows and kicks to the creature – anything that would amount to something – but it was obvious that he was the weaker one in that form.

  “Well shite,” he cursed. “Let’s see how you like a little bit of heat then.”

  Grabbing one of the werewolf’s arms that held him, Brandon attempted to cast a fire spell. All it did was sputter, though enough to allow him to drop down to the floor just before a set of claws swiped across the place his head had been.

  “Feck!”

  “Hey mutt!” shouted Hammer, slamming his weapon’s handle across his palm. His muscles were bulging along with his veins; adrenaline pegged on high. “Why don’t you deal with someone your own size?”

  The beast turned, howling madly; spit was thrown everywhere, some of it drizzling on Brandon who was still tucked away below.

  “What’re you waiting for, Fido?” Hammer goaded. “Bring it on!”

  The werewolf charged, its red eyes wide and claws ready to rip the well-built Journeyman to shreds.

  Brandon watched the monster run at his partner. He would have been worried, but if there was one thing that Hammer knew how to handle…

  “Come on you son of a bitch!”

  … it was a werewolf.

  With a fluid swing that made it look like Hammer had spent years hitting home runs instead of lifting weights, the sledgehammer sped toward the werewolf. It’s silver plating connected and sent the wolf straight into the wall where its head was crushed in a display of gore that would have made Dajjal orgasm with delight.

  Smoking out of the corpse, the demon attempted to escape.

  “Exorcizo te, omnis spiritus immunde…” Brandon began, trying to exorcise the demon back to Hell.

  For a moment, it seemed as if he was succeeding, the demon slowing down as usual. However, it didn’t stop, reaching the front door where it escaped.

  “What the heck happened?” asked Hammer urgently as he lifted Brandon to his stubby feet. “We've done that dozens of times!”

  “Well, you know humans are the only ones that can do exorcisms,” Brandon acknowledged. “Apparently, this goblin spell is sufficient enough to interfere with the incantation.”

  Hammer turned to Gage, who had managed to get himself back upright, though bruised. “You’ve looked better, brother.”

  “Yeah, yeah,” Gage said, rubbing his shoulder. “As much as I’ve beaten up this pentagram tattoo, I’m surprised the shit still works. Just like me.”

  Hammer’s expression looked concerned. “We have to get a move on… one of the smokers got away, out the front door. It won’t be long before reinforcements get here.”

  Gage agreed. “Marcus, make sure the stuff is prepped. Hopefully we won’t be here when…”

  There was a disgusting squishing sound that came from the door at the end of the hall. The door crept open with an eerie creak and a pink slug-like thing emerged, undulating across the floor and leaving a mucus trail behind it.

  “What on Earth is that?” asked Marcus.

  “You don't know?” Brandon followed, nervous that a lore master was even asking that question.

  “I don't think it's from here,” Gage said. He wasn't about to be slowed down by a legless worm, marching at it with his machete at his side. However, something he saw stopped him dead in his tracks.

  The thing had an anus-like mouth that was rimmed with sharp teeth. In the center of it was something that looked like a finger, slowly disappearing into the thing’s maw with a disturbing crunch.

  That’s surely not what that was…

  Gage couldn’t convince himself otherwise and started to breath heavily, unable to escape the mental image of Joey being eaten alive, piece by piece. Adrienne and Marcus arrived at his side and attempted to snap him out of it, his eyes flickering between green and red as if he were battling with the amulet to not take over.

  Hammer, unaffected by the sight, raced past Gage with his sledgehammer raised. Letting loose a powerful scream, he brought the weapon down on the
creature and it burst. A distinct smell filled the air, like burnt hair mixed with malt vinegar.

  “That smells grand,” Brandon said, waving his little hands in front of his nose.

  Adrienne stared for a time at the chunky mess on the carpet, the finger the thing was eating lacerated but still mostly intact at one end of the splatter. Averting her eyes, they looked into the dark room and she thought she could make out a familiar face.

  “Joey?” she said, Gage and Marcus now looking with her.

  “Come on lad,” Brandon said to Hammer. “We have a few things to prepare in the living room.”

  Hammer nodded silently and both Journeymen proceeded off to the left into the living room.

  Slowly Ady advanced, looking for anything to light the way. There was a light switch to her right as she entered. Extending her hand while still looking ahead, she exhaled and flipped it, a faint light coming on overhead and spreading to every dark corner of the room.

  They were in a fairly large kitchen, the sight of grime coated cabinets and utensils stained with blood some of the first things to greet them, followed by a rancid smell of rot. There were flayed body parts on the countertops – some fresh and some bloated with time – and just off to the right, lay a man on his back.

  With tears in her eyes, Ady realized it was indeed Joey. He was tied down to two tables with his arms extended; they had been laid crossways over each other in the shape of an upside down cross.

  Gage approached, just behind Adrienne, taking in the macabre sight for himself. His heart nearly broke at seeing Joey so battered – a black eye from where Dajjal had punched him, to lacerations across his arms, to his hacked off and burned hair.

  Marcus was last to enter, shuffling across the tiles like a zombie. His face was locked forward yet he didn't cry, fueled more by shock and anger at this point.

  Marcus dropped his bag, Gage picking it up and unzipping it. He kneeled beside Joey and began to run his fingers through his hair like he normally did. It was wet and matted, parts of it hard from being singed.

  Adrienne started to cut away his bindings, noticing two missing fingers when she got to his right hand.

 

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