by Jeff Kirvin
The demon said nothing.
Delores began to rock herself back and forth. “Though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death,” she recited as the demon approached her, “I will fear no evil…”
The demon put a hand gently on either side of her head, twisted sharply, and Daniel’s mother lay still.
In the other room, the second demon put down his gas can and lit a match.
Victory and Defeat
Susan had recommended a hotel in D.C. not too far from the Post offices. Just as they settled in and began the long process of collating all their information into a presentable format, the phone rang. The three of them exchanged a look. No one was supposed to know where they were.
“Maybe it’s the front desk,” Daniel said as he picked up the phone.
“You’ll have to do better than that, Daniel,” rang Uriel’s voice on the other end of the line.
Daniel was startled, but not really surprised. “How did you know we were here?”
“By having you followed. We’ve become quite adept at surveillance, over the millennia. It might interest you to know that we also spotted Batarel lurking about at Dulles shortly after you left, asking all kinds of questions.”
“Was he in long term parking?” Daniel asked.
“If by that you mean, did he see the camper, yes, he did. He doesn’t have the same resources I do, but it’s relatively easy for him to verify that you did not catch a flight out of Dulles. He’s well on his way to tracking you down. And getting a hotel room within walking distance of Miss Richardson’s newspaper was an act of dubious judgment.”
Daniel paused a moment to think. “Does this work both ways?”
“Does what work both ways?”
“Well,” Daniel began, “if you can find out all this information about the demons, can you also leak information to them?”
Daniel listened for a long time to silence from the angel. Finally, Uriel answered him. “What did you have in mind?”
The next morning found Jeff and Daniel in an abandoned warehouse in Crystal City, Arlington, just south of the Pentagon. If Uriel did what he said he’d do, Batarel would “track” them to the warehouse by nightfall. In the meantime, they had work to do. They were rigging numerous makeshift pipe bombs to various locations in the warehouse.
“You’re sure this will work,” Daniel said.
“Sure?” Jeff replied. “Hell no! But I think, yeah, we have a good shot.”
Jeff paused in his work and faced Daniel. “I have no illusions about what we’re doing, Daniel. We’re relying on an old man’s wartime knowledge of explosives to mine a warehouse in hopes of killing an immortal demon. We’ll be lucky if we don’t blow ourselves up before Batarel ever gets here.”
“That’s chipper.”
“Well, you asked. Now shut up and hand me that wrench.”
Choking down their nerves, the men got back to work.
Batarel arrived at the warehouse by dusk, just as Uriel predicted. Daniel waited inside and tried to quiet the butterflies in his stomach. For the umpteenth time, Daniel reached into the pockets of his jacket and grabbed his only protection, two Korean War-era grenades Jeff had given him. Jeff had briefed him on their use, but a grenade was an imprecise weapon at best, and Daniel hoped he wouldn’t have to use them. He didn’t want to blow himself up.
Provided the bombs didn’t get him when they got Batarel. After checking that his escape route was clear, he grabbed the remote detonator and checked Batarel’s progress. The demon was about to enter the mined area of the warehouse and was beginning to look discouraged.
It was showtime.
Batarel was growing suspicious. Cho and his cronies were nowhere to be seen. Was it possible that his sources had given him false information?
“Batarel.”
The demon spun around and between two crates near the back door stood Daniel Cho.
“Where are your friends?”
“Around,” Daniel said casually.
It finally dawned on Batarel that he might be walking into a trap. He looked around and noticed the pipe bombs taped to crates and shelves all around him. Batarel knew exactly what those bombs could do to flesh, even immortal flesh. “No, I—”
“Goodbye,” Daniel said. As he lunged out the back door, he punched the button on the detonator.
Daniel rolled to his feet outside the warehouse, his leap given distance by the concussion of the blast. The pavement was littered with broken glass and Daniel could see a flickering glow inside the building from small fires spawned by the explosion. He got up and walked back inside. He had to get confirmation.
The pipe bombs had packed a bigger punch than he expected. No structure inside was left intact. There was a sizable chunk of debris in the center of the warehouse, roughly where Batarel stood at the instant of the explosion.
The pile began to move. “That,” it said, “hurt.”
Daniel stood his ground, frozen in place.
“You insignificant little speck,” Batarel said, shaking rubble off his scorched and tattered shoulders. “Did you actually think you could destroy me?”
Daniel couldn’t take his eyes off of the demon. A human that had taken the same damage would’ve been killed instantly. A human certainly wouldn’t be pulling himself to his feet and getting angry.
Batarel began to walk, slowly, purposefully, towards Daniel. “You’ve made the last mistake of your worthless life, mortal.”
Daniel began backstepping and he reached into his jacket pocket for the first grenade. As he popped the pin, he began counting to himself.
Three…
Batarel was picking up speed, clenching his charred and ruined hands.
Two…
Daniel moved a step away from the door.
“One!” he shouted as he threw the grenade and leapt.
He heard a clang and a laugh as the grenade bounced past Batarel. It didn’t go off!
The next thing Daniel knew he was outside the building and being held off his feet.
“That was clever, speck,” Batarel hissed. “Pity it didn’t work.”
Up close, Batarel looked much worse than Daniel had previously thought. Most of the demon’s skin had either been flayed or burned off his face, and there was a gaping hole in his chest where three of his ribs had been ripped away. The smell of burning flesh was overpowering, and Daniel couldn’t help but gag.
“Oh, I’m sorry, Daniel,” Batarel sneered, the tatters of flesh hanging from his face shaking with his outrage. “Do I disgust you?”
Daniel reached frantically into his jacket.
“You think you’re so smart,” Batarel continued, “don’t you, mortal?”
Daniel shook his head, playing for time as he got a grip on the final grenade.
“Yes, you do. I know you do. I’ve seen your kind come and go. Individually, you’re meaningless, worthless. You think you know so much, you think you’re so important, but the seventy-odd years you’re limited to just isn’t enough for you to see the big picture. It’s different for us. I’m immortal. I’ve got perspective. There’s more to this existence than you or your kind could ever possibly comprehend.”
Batarel shook Daniel violently. “Pity you’ll never even get the chance. I will not allow you to jeopardize our mission. Say goodnight, Daniel.”
Daniel popped the pin from the grenade with his thumb. “Goodnight, Daniel,” he hissed as he shoved the live grenade into the space where Batarel’s ribs used to be.
“What?” Batarel said as he dropped Daniel and groped at his torso. Daniel rolled away and hugged the ground as the demon exploded.
Daniel raised his head and looked at the aftermath. None of the charred and burning chunks of flesh was larger than a softball. Batarel, the demon that destroyed his life, was gone. Forever.
Daniel reached into his jacket for his radio. “It’s over,” he said after he punched the transmit button.
It was over.
Jeff and Susan pi
cked up Daniel in the car and ran him back to the hotel before the cops or fire department could arrive. Daniel was tired as hell, but Jeff had enough energy for all three of them. “Didn’t I tell you, Daniel? It worked! Damn if it didn’t work!”
“Well, the bombs hurt him, but what saved my life was the other things you gave me.”
“The grenades?”
“Yeah,” Daniel said as he reclined on one of the beds and turned on a cable news network for background noise. “The first one was a dud, but the second one was pretty damn effective.”
Daniel proceeded to tell them the details of his fight with Batarel.
“What do you think he meant by ‘the big picture’?” Susan asked.
Daniel wasn’t listening. “Shhh,” he said as he turned up the television.
“The police have released the names of the deceased as Ronald and Delores Cho,” the newscaster said, “killed last night before someone set a gasoline fire in their privately owned San Francisco grocery store.”
“Oh my God,” Susan breathed.
The television screen was full of the aftermath of the blaze. Daniel’s parents’ store had burned almost to the ground, only the metal parts of the building left standing amidst the ashes. The network cut back to the anchor.
“Police have confirmed foul play, but have yet to produce a motive. The cash register and safe were still stocked with money.
“At the same time as the attack on Ronald and Delores Cho, their private home was also burned to the ground, claiming the lives of their two daughters, Kathy and Samantha.
“San Francisco Detective Lieutenant Robert Forsberg had this to say.”
“This doesn’t have the makings of a hate crime,” Forsberg said at a press conference. “The bodies were not defiled, and the victims were killed quickly and efficiently. All the evidence would seem to point to a professional hit. We’re investigating any possible connection with organized crime, and we’ll let you know as soon as we find anything.”
Daniel clicked the remote and the picture tube went blank. He sat motionless and silent for a long moment before uttering one word.
“Zagam.”
Vengeance
The mood in the hotel room had changed very quickly.
“I’ll kill him,” Daniel vowed as he lunged for the door.
“Whoa, there, bucko,” Susan said as she stepped between Daniel and the door. Jeff walked over to stand beside her.
“If you go after Zagam now,” Susan continued, “he’ll rip you apart. You’d be lucky to get past the front door.”
“I don’t care. I’m going.”
Jeff reached up and placed his palm flat on Daniel’s chest. “Daniel,” he said quietly, but with more force and authority than Daniel had ever heard, “sit down.”
Daniel sat.
Jeff stood over him, his aged body somehow managing to look imposing. “Daniel, Susan’s right. Zagam did this terrible thing to get to you, and if you go charging over there looking for revenge, you’ll just get yourself killed. He’s waiting for you, and you can’t afford to play his game.
“So here’s what you’re going to do. You’re going to stay right here and help Susan and me prepare the story. You have more firsthand knowledge than we do, and we need you too much right now to let you get yourself killed. Later, when the story’s out, you’ll have the opportunity and the means to take the bastard out.”
“No.” Daniel started to get up, but Jeff pushed him back in the seat.
“You don’t understand!” Daniel screamed. “That monster—”
“I understand!” Jeff yelled in Daniel’s face. “I understand better than you’ll ever know! I know how it burns, knowing that bastard’s out there and that the cops’ll never catch him. I know how your heart cries out for vengeance. But as hard as this may be to accept, you have more important things to do right now.
“You can die tomorrow. We need you today.”
Daniel finally broke down and began to sob. Susan put her arm around him, and the three humans were quiet for a while.
An hour later Daniel was sound asleep on one of the beds while Susan sat with Jeff in the kitchen, talking quietly about what they’d do after the story was released.
“It’s just going to be so nice,” Susan said, “to finally stop living in hotel rooms and be able to go home again.”
“You can’t go home again, Susan,” Jeff smirked, then his face grew solemn. “I don’t care what Uriel said about the demons having bigger fish to fry than us once the news is out. There’s always going to be somebody looking for a little payback.”
“Oh,” Susan said. That reminded her of something. “Jeff, can I ask you a question?”
Jeff smiled. “Since when do reporters ask permission?”
“When Daniel wanted to go kill Zagam and said you didn’t understand, you said you did, far better than he’d ever know. What did you mean?”
Jeff’s lighthearted yet sarcastic manner, so much a part of his personality that Susan didn’t even notice it anymore, vanished. He looked like a different, and far older, person. “Oh,” he said, “that.
“You see Susan, I’ve been exactly where Daniel is right now. I know how he feels because he is me, a me from a long time ago. It all started about the time I got this,” he said, tapping on his metal leg.
“I’d just had the misfortune of stepping on a land mine in Korea. The docs couldn’t save my leg, so they took it off and sent me home. I was very upset about losing my leg, but I’ve always been a roll-with-the-punches kind of guy, so instead of dwelling on my disability, I focused all the way home on seeing my family, my wife, Rose, and my son, Jeremy. I may have lost a leg, but I was going home to be with the people I loved more than anything in the world.
“What I didn’t know was that somewhere over the Pacific Ocean I must have crossed paths with the letter from the State Department informing me of their murders.”
Susan’s jaw dropped.
“It had been a botched burglary. The thief woke up Rose and Jeremy by accident, and when they discovered him he panicked and shot them both.
“But you see, he wasn’t completely incompetent. He left no fingerprints, and after the shootings he must have decided not to take anything that could be traced. He made off with all the cash in the house and disappeared. The cops never caught him. To this day, the murders of Rose and Jeremy Frankel remain officially unsolved.”
“Officially,” Susan repeated.
“Right. The cops didn’t catch him, but I did.
“Maybe I’d seen too many damn detective movies, I don’t know, but I decided I was going to track down the man that took my family from me and have my revenge. I went to a lot of bars on the ugly side of town and spent a lot of money I really didn’t have to spend, but I finally got a name and address.
“The guy’s name was Joel Rushing. I waited in an alley outside his apartment with a Saturday night special I’d picked up in a pawnshop. For three nights I watched him go in and out, until I was sure it was him, then I made my move.
“The next time he walked in front of my hiding place in the alley, I grabbed him and threw him into the shadows, almost falling off my fake leg in the process. I whipped out the gun and told him who I was.
“He said he didn’t know what I was talking about, but his eyes told a different story. I called him a liar and a murderer, and told him he’d never be able to hurt anyone again. I pulled the trigger.
“But the gun didn’t go off, you see. It jammed. While I struggled to clear it, he pulled out a knife and plunged it into my stomach. He knelt down to me and whispered, ‘And I got away with it,’ then ran off into the night.
“I was lucky. The knife missed all my vital organs, and I managed to crawl back to the sidewalk. Some kind soul called the ambulance that got me to the hospital before I bled to death. While I was laid up, I told the cops my story, about Rushing and where he lived, but they never found him. He skipped town and for all I know he’s still out there s
omewhere to this day.”
“That’s terrible,” Susan said.
“The worst part is that I still wonder if he’d have been caught and convicted if I’d gone to the cops right away with what I knew, instead of trying to exact my own vengeance. I just don’t know.
“Of course, as far as I know, Joel Rushing was no demon, not literally, anyway. Daniel just needs to understand that once word gets out about them, Zagam will be hunted down and destroyed. Then and only then will Daniel have his revenge.”
“Oh, I understand that perfectly,” came Daniel’s voice from the living room.
As he walked into the light of the kitchen, Daniel looked different, stronger and more confident than before. “And if I’m not mistaken,” he continued, “we’ve got work to do.”
The three of them worked until very early the next morning putting together Susan’s story and organizing the data into the most easily understood presentation. Daniel was full of energy, and his firsthand observations of the demons proved invaluable to Susan in bringing life to the story. When the sunlight finally streamed into the windows of the hotel room, Susan was just typing the final sentence of what she felt was the finest work of her career. Daniel and Jeff were toasting each other, and her, and they were a little punchy from lack of sleep.
Finally, the end of their ordeal was in sight. The story was done. All they had to do was deliver it.
Susan woke up a few hours later to the sound of commotion and cursing. She forced her eyes open and found Jeff strapping on his leg and muttering.
“What’s going on?” she asked.
“Damn kid’s gone and done it,” Jeff replied. “Daniel’s gone and I’ll give you three guesses where he went. First two don’t count.”
“Damn!” Susan got up and started putting on her shoes.
“Where do you think you’re going?” Jeff demanded. “You’ve got a story to deliver, missy. I’ll corral Daniel before he gets himself killed.”
