by Amy Cross
“So this was in some forbidden testament, yeah?” Scott whispers skeptically. “And now this circus guy just happens to have got hold of this Shackle of Whatever. Call me crazy, but I smell a steaming pile of -”
“Quiet!” Anna replies, nudging him in the ribs. “I want to hear!”
“You don't actually believe it, do you?”
“I want to hear,” she says again. “It might be important.”
“Are you in here now?” Raven calls out. “Is the Devil in this room? If he is, I command him to show himself! Make yourself known, or forever remain a coward in the house of the Lord! Let us all see your foul face!”
He waits for a moment.
“Nothing yet,” Scott whispers with a smile.
“Or are you outside?” he continues. “Are you loitering, drawn to the purity of these good people but afraid to actually enter? Perhaps this is the case, so... I must ask everyone here to pray. Lower your heads, close your eyes and tell the Lord your thoughts. The greater our display of faith, the more the Devil will be horrified, and finally he will be unable to hide himself. He will burst into the room in a fit of madness, and that is when I, Charles Raven, shall fit the Shackle of San Shaheth to his hands and then personally lead him to his new grave!”
As the crowd begins to pray, Anna feels Scott nudging her arm again.
“You gonna do it?” he whispers.
“Do what?”
“Pray! I mean, don't you feel kinda weird? You don't actually believe all this stuff, do you?”
“I... I guess so.” Lowering her head, she closes her eyes and waits. She knows she should be thinking about God, but instead she finds herself wondering what could have happened to Sam. If the Devil is truly getting closer, she knows that Sam won't be far away.
Chapter Forty-Two
“It's not working,” Sam whispers to herself as she peers out at the crowd from one of the side doors. “The Devil isn't going to come here. Raven's got it all wrong.”
“Don't write him off just yet,” Andy replies, standing next to her. “He'll get there in the end. He always does. The guy's got a real knack.”
“But that shackle thing... Where did he find it?”
“Beats me. The guy's got connections, I guess.”
“Something about this doesn't make sense,” she tells him. “I can't put my finger on it, but -”
“Trust me,” Andy replies, putting a hand on her shoulder, “and more importantly, trust him. Charles Raven might seem a little flaky from time to time, but the guy knows his stuff and if he says the Devil's nearby, I'm inclined to think he just might be right.” He looks up at a nearby light that has suddenly started to flicker off and on. “Must be a loose cable somewhere,” he mutters. “I should go check on it.”
He pauses, waiting for Sam to say something, but she's just staring out at the crowd as Raven continues to lead them in prayer.
“Have a little faith,” Andy adds as he turns to leave. “You might just be surprised. These things have a habit of working out.”
“Maybe,” Sam whispers as she spots Anna sitting in the crowd, with her head bowed just like all the rest. For a moment, it occurs to Sam that she should try to get Anna's attention, that it would be useful to have someone to bounce a few ideas off, but she quickly realizes that she's better off dealing with the problem alone. Glancing up at the flickering light, she waits a few seconds before finally it switches off completely.
And stays off.
“Hear us!” Charles Raven is calling out from the stage. “Hear our prayers! Hear our faith! Know that you can never be stronger than our belief in the Lord! I can feel the Devil getting closer, I can almost smell the sulfur! If everyone continues to pray, the Devil will surely burst through the door, and that ladies and gentlemen is when I shall use these shackles to capture him!”
Sam glances up at the light above the door and sees that it still isn't working. Turning to look back across the room, she can't help wondering what's taking so long.
“Andy?” she calls out.
No reply.
Making her way cautiously toward the door that leads out to the rear of the tent, she can't shake the feeling that something isn't right. Looking out into the yard, she spots the generator and the lighting controls, but there's no sign of Andy at all. She knows he came this way, but it's as if he suddenly disappeared.
“Hey,” she hisses, “are you out here?”
She waits, but there's no response.
“Andy?”
Stepping out into the yard, she heads over to the control unit and spots a cable that appears to have come loose from one of the sockets. She plugs it back in, and when she looks back into the tent she sees that the flickering light has now been fixed.
“I sorted your light out for you,” she mutters, turning to look for any sign of Andy. “It was a pretty easy job. You know, if -”
Before she can finish, she hears a gentle bump nearby. Looking back over at the lighting system, she realizes that there seems to be something in the shadows just behind the main control unit. Figuring that Andy must be trying to fix something, she makes her way around, only to stop suddenly when she realizes she can see two shapes in the darkness: the first is Andy, flat on his back and twitching as if he's in pain, while the second, darker shape kneels on his chest and picks at his body. After a moment, the dark shape turns and looks toward Sam with two burning, dark red eyes.
“Oh,” she says, feeling her heart starting to thump in her chest.
The creature stares at her, narrowing its eyes slightly as if it's trying to decide whether or not she's a threat.
“Run...” Andy gasps. “Warn... people...”
“No way,” Sam whispers, trying not to succumb to the panic that has begun to rise through her body. “Okay. Here's what we're going to do. You're going to leave him alone and -”
The creature hisses, almost as if it's trying to scare her away.
“Don't hurt him,” she continues. “Please, he's never done anything to you.”
She can hear Andy gasping, but the creature shows no sign of sparing him. After a moment, it turns and looks back down at his bloodied face, and its charred fingers start tearing more flesh from his body. Andy lets out a groan, but it's clear that he's too weak to fight back.
“You recognize me, don't you?” Sam says, hoping to distract the Devil. “Come on, pay attention. You've seen me before! If there's anyone here you want to hurt, it's me!”
Slowly, the red eyes turn to her again.
“From our little chats, yeah?” she continues, her mind racing as she tries to work out what to do. She knows that if she goes to get help, even for just a moment, she'll be leaving Andy to die. “I'm the gardener who used to come and check on you occasionally, remember? You were asleep most of the time, but once you opened your eyes and looked at me.”
The creature opens its mouth, letting out another faint hiss as it reveal two rows of sharp white teeth that are already dripping with Andy's blood.
“So there's no reason to be mad at anyone else,” Sam adds. “I guess you're hungry or something, but if you're mad at anyone, it should be me, so...” She takes a deep breath, getting ready to run back inside as soon as the Devil makes his move. “Come on, then. Leave him alone and take a shot at me. What's wrong? Are you scared of a girl? Look at me, I'm not exactly hefty, so why don't you take a shot at me? What's the worst that could happen?”
The creature narrows its eyes again, as if it has begun to study her.
“What are you waiting for?” she asks, hoping to lure the creature into the tent and through to Charles Raven. “Are you worried I might be too tough for you? I didn't think the Devil would turn out to be a total coward.” Realizing that her plan isn't working so far, she looks over at the workbench and grabs a spanner, which she quickly throws at the creature. It's a futile gesture, but as it hits his shoulder and fall to the floor, she figures she still needs to get his attention. “Come on!” she shouts. “What's wr
ong, aren't you up for a challenge?”
Slowly, the Devil climbs off Andy's twitching body and steps toward Sam, straightening himself to his full height in the process. His skin, although less charred than before, still seems to crack every time he moves, revealing bloody red and pink flesh beneath the surface.
“That's better,” she replies, backing toward the door. “Just come this way, yeah? You must be pretty annoyed with me, right? I mean, I'm one of the people who was trying to keep you down there in your grave. Don't you just hate the sight of me?”
“Run,” Andy whispers, his voice sounding pained. “Get out of here...”
“That's not an option,” she replies, grabbing a screwdriver from the bench as she continues to back toward the door, with the Devil still taking slow steps in her direction. She's almost ready to run, but first she needs to be certain that he'll follow. “Come on,” she tells the creature, “what are you waiting for? You're the Devil, or Satan or Beelzebub or whatever you want to call yourself. Shouldn't you be all-powerful and angry, stuff like that?” She holds the screwdriver out, as if to protect herself. “What the hell are you waiting for? Come and get me!”
The Devil stops and stares at her for a moment,tilting his head slightly almost as if he's a dog.
“You,” he says finally, his voice thick with ancient pain and fury.
“Me?” Sam replies, struggling to stay calm. “What about me?”
“You...” He pauses. “You will be there.”
“Where?”
“At the end.”
Sam swallows hard.
“The end... The end of what?” she asks.
“The end of all things,” he replies. “The end of this world, and all the other worlds. You will stand by my side and watch the universe burn, and you will weep with joy at what you have done, and I will weep tears of sadness.”
She opens her mouth to ask what he means, but no words come out.
“It is written,” he tells her. “It will happen.”
“I... I'm not sure about that,” she replies. “Why don't you come inside, though, and we can talk about it.”
“Tell the raven man,” he continues, “that I will not be his slave. Tell him that it would be best for him to leave Rippon while he still can. He won't listen to you, of course, but it's only fair that he should be warned. That way, he can't complain when I inevitably have to end his miserable life. He believes his resurrection skills to be essential to my continued good health, but he'll learn the truth in time. He'll fail, the way all the rest have failed. I'm no-one's puppet.”
Turning, the Devil starts limping away.
“No!” Sam shouts, hurrying after him. “You have to come inside!”
“I don't have to do anything.”
“I'm not going to let you just walk away,” she continues, stepping in front of him and holding the screwdriver out in her trembling hand. “Seriously. You're coming inside with me.”
“You're trying to give me orders?” he replies with a faint smile.
“I'm telling you what's going to happen. It's for the best.”
“I have met many humans,” he continues, “and not one of them has ever tried to threaten me in this manner.”
“I can't let you go. I swore to keep you in your tomb.”
“And how did that work out?”
“There's still time.”
“So you're the last gardener of Rippon, the one who let me escape. I must admit, you make a nice change from all those tired old men who guarded me for centuries.”
“You're going inside!” she says firmly. “I don't care if you -”
Before she can finish, he grabs her with his charred hands and swings her around, slamming her into the wall with such force that she's momentarily stunned. As she drops to the floor, she tries and fails to get back onto her feet, and finally all she can do is watch as the Devil walks away into the night. Still feeling dizzy from the force of the impact, she crawls over to Andy, only to find that he's bleeding profusely from a series of wounds to his neck and face, where the Devil appears to have pulled away strips of flesh and muscle.
“Hey,” she says, lifting him up carefully. “Andy, can you hear me?”
She waits for a reply, but he feels limp in her arms.
“Andy!” she continues, trying not to panic. “Come on! Wake up! Andy!”
Chapter Forty-Three
“I'm sorry,” the man at the door calls out as he ushers the last of the crowd away from the tent, “the show's over for tonight, folks. There's been a... complication.”
“What kind of complication?” asks a clearly annoyed woman. “That whole thing lasted less than an hour! We were promised something spectacular!”
“Change of plans, I'm afraid,” the man replies, clearly keen to get rid of her. “I'm not the one who makes decisions, I'm just -”
“I do not appreciate being lied to,” the woman continues. “We were offered a free show, and instead we get duped into sitting around in that cold tent, listening to that frightful man make promises he can't keep!”
“The show's over,” the man says firmly, stepping back into the tent and pulling the door shut.
“Outrageous,” the woman mutters. “These Americans could learn a thing or two about customer service!”
“You wanna head home?” Scott asks Anna as they stand nearby. “That thing was kind of a bust, huh? It seemed like it was heading somewhere, and then after that guy went onto the stage and whispered something to Raven, everything changed. They couldn't get us out of there fast enough!”
“Something's wrong,” Anna replies, looking across the town square and still hoping to catch sight of Sam.
“Like what?”
“I don't know.” She stares at the cafe for a moment, where police tape is still covering the door. “I need to go and find someone. I'm sorry, I need to make sure she's okay.” Turning, she hurries across the square.
“Hey!” Scott calls out, running after her. “Are you okay?”
“Go home,” she tells him, not even looking back as she heads toward the road that leads up to the cemetery.
“Huh?”
“I need to do this alone,” she replies. “I'm sorry, Scott, but there are just some things you can't -”
“What the hell is that?” he says suddenly.
“What?” She turns to him as he grabs her shoulder. “Scott, I don't have time to -”
She stops as she realizes that he's staring down at her legs. Following his gaze, she can't work out what he's seen at first, until finally she spots the bandage hanging loose from one corner on her leg, exposing the little bloody dagger tattoo just above her ankle. Or rather, just above the ankle of the leg she stole from Ruth Havershot.
“Scott,” she says after a moment, “I -”
“What the hell's wrong with you,” he asks, staring at her with an expression of total shock. “Are you some kind of pervert?”
“Scott -”
“You copied my sister's tattoo? My dead sister's tattoo?”
“It's just a coincidence. I don't have time to -”
“Do you get off on that or something?” he asks, with obvious disgust in his voice. “Okay, I get it. Yeah, it all makes sense now. You hang around in a cemetery all day and I guess you ended up with some kind of weird obsession with dead people. When did you even see her tattoo, anyway? You never...” He pauses as a look of realization crosses his face. “Her dead body,” he continues. “You saw her dead body when she was laid out, didn't you? What happened, did you see the tattoo and decide to copy it for yourself? How messed-up are you?”
“Very,” she replies, “but not in the way you think. Please, we can talk about this later, but right now I have to go and find Sam!”
“Are you trying to be Ruth?” he asks. “I don't understand what's wrong with you. Why did you -”
“I'll tell you later.”
“Tell me now!” he shouts.
“There's a perfectly reasonable explanati
on,” she replies, interrupting him with tears in her eyes. “Actually, that's not true. There isn't a reasonable explanation at all, it's a completely messed-up and horrible explanation, but I can still tell you what happened. Sort of, anyway. But later, not now. I swear, I'll come to your house and -”
“Don't bother,” he replies with a look of hatred, as he takes a step back. “I don't want to... There's obviously something really wrong with you, Anna. I thought you were cool, but... I don't think I want to hang out with someone who gets obsessed over her new boyfriend's dead sister.”
“It's not like that!”
“Yeah, it is,” he tells her. “It really is. Go find your friend. You and her probably get along just fine, living in that little house in the middle of a cemetery. She's probably just as bad as you. I don't mind people who are a bit weird, Anna, but this... This is too much.” With that, he turns and walks away.
“Scott!” she calls out, but he doesn't reply. She wants to run after him, but at the same time she figures he can wait until morning. With her concern about Sam increasing by the second, she hurries across the square, heading for the cemetery.
Chapter Forty-Four
“They said he has a chance,” Sam tells Raven as she returns to the room at the rear of the tent. “It's a long drive to the nearest hospital, but the ambulance crew said they think Andy might -”
“You let the target get away,” Raven replies darkly, standing by the mirror and staring at his own reflection as he holds the metal shackles in his hands. The shadows below his eyes seem to have become deeper, and his voice has lowered to a dark pitch that hints at great fury beneath the surface. “You had him, and you let him leave.”
“Andy was dying!”
“Who?”
“Andy. One of your assistants.” She waits for him to reply. “The guy who just got part of his face torn off!”
“A useful distraction,” Raven replies. “It would have taken the Devil quite some time to pick his carcass clean. You could have used that time to fetch me.”
