Deal with the Devil

by Kevin Lee Swaim

  “I don’t know.”

  “Of course, you don’t,” Pete said. His voice was soft and carried great sadness. “You’re just…”

  I was clenching my jaw so tightly I thought my teeth might crack. “I’m just a nothing.”

  Pete turned his withering gaze upon me. Even in the dark, it carried a weight like a vampire’s gaze. “Magic is everywhere. It flows through this world. I might have lost God’s favor, but I couldn’t die. So, I learned to channel magic.”

  “You created vampires,” I whispered.

  “I experimented. As my power grew, I wanted to learn even more. Until I made a mistake.”

  “A mistake?”

  Pete stood and turned his head to the lightning tearing across the sky, illuminating the canal frontage in strobe-like flashes. “I opened a door to somewhere else. The place that came before. What came through was a living thing—”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “The thing that came before,” Pete bellowed at the sky. “It was alive! It was evil! And when I opened the door, it burst through and found refuge in you crafty apes. I allowed the vampire essence to enter our world! I almost destroyed all of creation!”

  Chapter Seventeen

  Peter stood with his fist raised as lighting thundered across the sky. Thunder shook the ground, and my chest ached from the power of the storm raging above us.

  “It doesn’t make sense,” I shouted above the din.

  Peter spun to face me. “What did you say?”

  I shrank back from him. “You’re not telling the truth. Not all of it. You brought the vampires to us. Why? To kill us? Do you hate us that much?”

  “You … humans. When you live long enough, you learn that even hate fades in time. Yes, I wanted to destroy you, but not at any cost. Not at that cost.” He staggered back and unceremoniously plopped down in the metal chair. “Do you know God’s greatest gift to humanity, Sam Harlan? You are born only to die. You run from death all your lives, but death is what gives you meaning. He denied me that.”

  “You don’t hate us,” I said. “You envy us!”

  “You want to find your friend? Why should I help you?”

  “She’s…”

  He inspected me. “Yes?”

  “She’s been through so much. She’s lost her sister, Katie—”

  “Don’t tell me what I know, boy. Tell me what I don’t know.”

  I swallowed hard. “If I don’t save her, she’s going to die. You say you hate us, but you stay here, living vicariously through the people you touch. We may not have been first, but we have friends. Families. I think that’s why you stay here.”

  “Friendship? Family? Is that all you got?”

  “You don’t have anybody, but I think you want to.” A few drops of water splashed against my face. It was only a matter of time before the rain, now powered by the moisture from Lake Michigan, would begin to fall. “All I can offer you is friendship. I don’t have anything else, but I can offer you that.”

  The first man opened his mouth, and then a smile slowly spread across his face. “I’m tired of being alone, Sam Harlan. Maybe it’s time I made a friend.”

  Relief washed over me. “You’ll help?”

  “Sam, I ain’t got nothing but time.”

  “Thank God,” I said. “What do we do now?”

  “I have an idea of where she might be. And call me Pete. I guess I won’t mind.”

  * * *

  As I pulled out of the parking deck, rain battered at the Chevy’s windshield so hard that I could barely see the road. “This is crazy.”

  Pete leaned forward and glanced up at the sky. “This isn’t natural.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “This heat? The storm? It’s not natural.”

  I came to a red light, stopped, and looked to the right and left. There wasn’t a car in sight. “Where is everybody? I don’t understand. What is up with this storm?”

  “You know enough to put it together.”

  “It’s the magic,” I said. “All those deaths.”

  Pete grunted.

  “They’re trying to summon a demon,” I said. “Haagenti.”

  “You fought Haagenti?”

  “I … tried to.”

  “You sent Haagenti back to Hell.”

  “That was mostly Callie and Father Jameson.”

  “All the deaths,” Pete said. “I felt them. It’s been building for months. Whatever they’re doing, they’re almost finished.”

  “They’ve killed all those men. It’s … tearing at the world. It’s powering this storm. Do you think they’re going to summon Haagenti?”

  “Maybe. Turn left here.”

  “Where are we going?”

  Pete turned to look out the window. “That’s the wrong question, Sam. You should be asking who is behind all this.”

  I headed east toward the lake. “It’s Tessa Spurlock. And Garski.”

  “Is it?”

  “They’ve got Callie.”

  “You think the vampire hunter, Garski, has been killing all those men?”

  “I … maybe it’s Lottie Graham?”

  “What about the sheriff?”

  “Henry? He would never do something like that. Besides, he’s not human. It can’t be him. Which way?”

  “Keep going straight.”

  “We can’t go much farther,” I grumbled. We passed the hulking shadow of an enormous building to the left. “Is that a football stadium?”

  “We’re almost there.”

  Roadside signs pointed to the Adler Planetarium. “Where are we going?”

  “Follow the road. After we turn left, take a right.”

  “You think they’re at the planetarium?”

  “No. Just south of it. Near the beach.”

  “The beach?”

  “Sam? Whatever we find, it probably won’t be what you expect.”

  I followed Pete’s directions and parked in the planetarium’s parking lot. There were several other vehicles in the lot, including a black Suburban with Wyoming plates. “That’s Henry’s Suburban.”

  Pete nodded.

  “What do we do now?”

  Pete closed his eyes and tilted his head, then said, “It’s not far from here. I can feel it. You got guns in this truck? Get them ready.”

  I turned off the engine, got out into the pouring rain, and opened the tailgate. Pete got out and joined me as I took Callie’s Remington shotgun and the bandolier of shells out. I ran my arm through the bandolier, placing it diagonally across my shoulder, then took the Ingram from the toolbox and fixed a strap to it and hung it from my neck. A belt of magazines full of silver ammunition buckled around my waist so tightly that it made my stomach cramp.

  Pete turned to me and leaned in close to my ear. “I know a lot, Sam, but even I don’t know what is really going on. I’ve got an idea, though, and it’s not good. You have to decide if you are willing to go through with this.”

  I didn’t hesitate. “I need to save Callie.”

  “You’re risking your life,” Pete said. “You could die tonight. Think about that for a minute. After all you’ve seen and done, is she that important to you?”

  “Yes.”

  Pete nodded. “Then let’s go find your friend and get some answers.”

  He led me east through the parking lot. The rain had fallen so hard that my boots splashed in water at least an inch deep. When we reached the sidewalk, the sewer grates were clearly overwhelmed. Flashes of lightning blazed across the sky, and peals of thunder reverberated in my chest, as we made our way around the planetarium and headed south through the thick grass.

  The rain let up a little, and I saw figures standing inside a spiral circle made of man-sized stones. A giant stone square sat in the middle of the circle. As we reached the circle, the figure in the center, a short black man in his late thirties with a long topknot of hair, shouted, “Sam
Harlan. How interesting. The queen told us you were dead.”

  We were close enough that I could finally make out the faces of the people gathered around the stone. Henry stood next to the black man, his Western-style shirt untucked and flapping loosely in the wind. His arms were at his waist and his wrists held by silver cuffs. A thin silver chain ran up from the cuffs and looped around his neck, and wisps of smoke rose from the silver touching his skin.

  Standing behind Henry was a man with dark olive skin and curly black hair wearing a white robe that wrapped around his chest and legs.

  On the other side of the black man was a woman with light olive skin and a hooked nose. She appeared to be in her late sixties, although her long black hair had threads of white that practically glowed in the reflected light of the storm. She wore an elegant but formfitting black dress that displayed her matronly figure. Although she looked old enough to be my grandmother, there was still a sense of vitality about her.

  My heart began to pound as I took in the rest of the scene.

  Callie was stripped down to her bra and panties and lay strapped to the center stone. She appeared unharmed, except for the scars across her body from the vampire attack in Monticello.

  A leather gag in her mouth kept her from speaking, but her eyes caught mine, and her mouth drew back in pain or rage.

  That looks like some kind of … altar.

  Joseph Garski and Tessa Spurlock stood to the right of the stone table, holding the arms of a young black man. His eyes were bugged out, and the whites looked so big that they appeared abnormal, like something from a cartoon.

  He turned his head toward me and tried to speak, but Tessa squeezed his arm, and he whimpered like a caged animal. The man looked familiar, and I realized I had recently seen a picture of him.

  That’s Andre Johnson!

  Behind them, Raymond Burzynski wore his black cassock and looked on the proceedings with confidence, like he held all the answers and I hadn’t even figured out the question.

  Lottie Graham and Minerva Higby stood on the left of the stone table. Desmond stood behind them, and Lottie clutched a leather rope attached to a silver collar around Desmond’s neck.

  Desmond was glaring, and if looks could kill, everyone in the clearing would have been dead. He took a step forward and said, “Sam—”

  Without turning around, Lottie yanked on the leather strap and the silver collar bit into Desmond’s neck. Wisps of smoke rose from his neck, and he winced in pain.

  I shook my head and turned my attention back to Callie. “I’m going to get you out of here. I promise.”

  The short black man with the topknot chuckled. “You think you will save your friend?” He turned his attention to Pete. “So, you finally chose a side.”

  Pete shrugged. “It’s been a long time, Chima.”

  “Chima?” I turned to Lottie. “He’s the one that gave you the gift?”

  “Century after century,” Chima said. “The world never ceases to amaze. If ever there was a sign that destiny exists, this is it.”

  “What are you talking about? Who are you?”

  “Surely you can figure it out for yourself,” Chima said. “Think about what you know.”

  My stomach did flip-flops. “You’re one of the Ancients.”

  “Yes,” Chima said. He pointed at Pete. “You knew we were here.”

  Pete nodded.

  “Wait,” I said to Pete. “There are supposed to be four of them, right?” I glanced around. “I only see three.”

  Chima laughed. “I am the Magician.” He pointed at the woman to his right. “This is Enid, the Crone. Erlik, the Scholar.” He smiled at me. “Every time you spoke with him, you didn’t know.” He patted Henry on the shoulder. “You were telling the truth, Cicolluis. You really didn’t tell him.”

  “What’s he talking about, Henry? Why … why is he calling you that.”

  “Because that is his name,” Chima said. “Is it not, our Knight?”

  Henry avoided my gaze.

  It felt like I had been sucker-punched. “Is he telling the truth? You’re one of the Ancients?”

  Henry’s face was weary. “I’m sorry about this, Sam. It never should have gone this far. If Chima would just listen—”

  “You’re … you’re one of them,” I said. “How could I have been so stupid!”

  * * *

  “Don’t be cross with our Knight,” Chima said. “He wanted to tell you, but I ordered him to remain silent.”

  “Why?” I asked Henry. “Why pretend to be the sheriff?”

  “I am the sheriff,” Henry said bitterly. “That’s who I am now.”

  The Ancient named Erlik burst into laughter, then said with a thick accent, “Always so modest.”

  “Our Knight has served us for many millennia,” Chima said. “He has laid waste to countless villages, drunk the blood of an untold number of humans. I am proud to call him my partner and my friend.”

  Henry shook his head. “I’m not like that anymore. This is madness. Please stop. I’m begging you. For all we’ve meant to each other. Please.”

  “Perhaps we should be on with our business,” the Ancient woman named Enid said. Her husky voice was thick with annoyance. “Unless you have changed your mind.”

  Chima clucked his tongue. “I’m afraid you are correct, dear Crone. Time flows on.”

  I noticed a funny look on Burzynski’s face. “Why are you helping them? How can you betray your faith like this?”

  Everyone turned to look at Burzynski. The rain had slowed, but the thunderstorm overhead raged on, flashes of light illuminating the sudden crazed smile plastered across his face. “I can’t believe it worked. You’re all here. The Ancients. The king and queen of the city. Even the abomination.”

  Garski turned to stare at the priest. “What are you doing, Ray?”

  “Did you really think I would choose eternal life with you filth?” Burzynski shouted.

  Nobody moved.

  “I can’t believe your arrogance,” Burzynski continued. “That’s the problem when you’ve turned your back on God. You forgot—”

  “Ray,” Garski said. “You said you wanted the gift.”

  Burzynski laughed like a maniac. “I lied, you fool!”

  “There’s no taking this back, Ray. You knew about the sacrifices. That’s on you. You may not have killed them yourself, but you agreed to it.”

  “Once I’ve laid waste to you all,” Burzynski said, withdrawing a foot-long silver crucifix from under his robe, “I will be forgiven. How much evil am I about to destroy? How many souls will this save in the future?”

  Callie went crazy on the stone table, whipping her head back and forth. She tried to scream, but the gag in her mouth and the thunder crashing overhead made her incomprehensible.

  Still, nobody moved.

  Burzynski raised the crucifix in front of him and took a step forward. “I’m not some ignorant girl stumbling around with a delusional vampire hunter. I’m a direct descendant of the twelve families. I’m of their blood. And, I am God’s servant!”

  The crucifix began to glow, and all of the vampires leaned away from the light. And then the power of God sputtered out as the crucifix became nothing more than a useless hunk of metal in Burzynski’s hand.

  “This was your plan?” Chima asked with amusement. Erlik and Enid chuckled while Henry shook his head sadly.

  “I—I don’t understand,” Burzynski said. He shook the crucifix in the air. “Why isn’t it working? Has—has God forsaken me? That’s not possible!”

  Garski released Andre Johnson’s arm and took a step toward Burzynski. “Don’t you understand, God’s servant?”

  “I don’t—”

  Garski pointed at Callie. “That bitch is righteous. She has faith. Somewhere along the way, you lost that. Was this your plan? Gather the vampires here and kill them? I always liked you, Ray, but you are one dumb son of a bitch.”

&
nbsp; “You can’t touch me,” Burzynski protested.

  I marveled at the outrage in his voice, and at his colossal stupidity. I pointed at Garski. “It was you. You killed all those young men.”

  Garski turned, gave me a dark look, and then shrugged. “The things you do for love.” He glanced at Callie on the stone table. “Am I right?” He turned back and advanced on Burzynski. “Sorry, Ray. It’s nothing personal.”

  “Burzynski, you idiot,” I said. “He killed all those young men. What’s to stop him from killing you?”

  “He—he wouldn’t,” Burzynski stammered as he backed away. “I’ve known you for almost thirty years, Joseph. You can’t do this.”

  “I was hoping you’d be there when I rose,” Garski said. “I guess it’s not in the cards.”

  I took a step toward them, and Chima fixed me in place with a stare.

  “Attempt to save him,” Chima said, “and I will strike you down where you stand. Do you understand, Sam Harlan?”

  I gritted my teeth. I was faster and stronger than I had ever been, but Henry was much faster.

  The three Ancients are probably just as fast as Henry. I don’t stand a chance.

  I turned to Pete, but he just shook his head. “The priest made his choice, Sam. He’s got to suffer the consequences.”

  I watched helplessly as Garski lunged for Burzynski. Burzynski managed to strike him with a glancing blow from the crucifix and then turned to run.

  It was the last thing Burzynski did. Garski shook off the blow and then threw himself at Burzynski’s feet. Burzynski fell, and Garski was on him, shoving him face first into the muddy earth. Garski used his body for leverage to hold Burzynski down and twist his neck sharply to the left.

  The crack of bone was clearly heard over the sound of the thunder.

  Burzynski’s legs spasmed and then he went still, the crucifix flopping uselessly into the wet grass. Garski stood and turned back to us, his black clothes soaked and covered in mud.

  He wasn’t smiling, but he didn’t appear to be too broken up about killing his friend, either.