by Keith Keffer
"Stop." She tripped when they left the sidewalk and one knee landed squarely in a puddle of icy cold water. "What are you trying to show me?"
"There. Don't you see it?" Bob pointed with his free hand to a spot a few feet in front of them. It didn't look special except for a light fog clinging to the ground. The streetlights gave it a sickly yellow tint. It was weird how it only seemed to be forming in that one spot. The fog looked sort of familiar. As she stared at it a set of footprints appeared in the fog and just as quickly vanished. "That fog. It's just like the haze that formed when I looked for Henry. He went this way."
"Bingo," said Bob. "Give the girl a gold star. Someone's been working magic here, and I don't think it was you."
"Holy crap. Are you telling me we have a witch?"
"Actually, I believe I would be telling you that there was another witch," said Bob. "It could be something else. There are lots of things that can use magic in the underworld. Maybe one of them got up here. Whatever it was, it used a lot of magic to cover its tracks from mortal eyes. Fortunately, our eyes aren't part of the standard equipment package. Otherwise, we might not have noticed it."
Morgan pulled Bob close and lifted him into the air as she got to her feet. "Let's go. It will lead us to Henry, right. I saw footprints in the fog. Those were his, weren't they?"
"Fire and Ash, woman. Warn me before you do that. No one likes getting plucked up like a mouse in a hawk's talons." Bob swung out of her grip and slid into the pack. "We can't follow it. It's not a trail. It's more like a curtain. Once we pull it aside, we'll see what they have been hiding from us."
"Well then, let's pull that baby aside."
"It won't work. Not now anyways. It's just a remnant of the magic and a weak one at that. What time did Henry go missing?"
"Somewhere between four and five o'clock. Henry had come home from school, finished his homework and left to take his books back to the library."
"Then we come back at four o'clock. We'll need to prepare ourselves if we want to get this right."
CH 5 - Dawn's Early Light
Back at the house Bob the demon sat on top of the desk with the laptop turned on in front of him. Morgan had stacked it on a couple of books to make it easier for Bob to use. There was no way he could have sat at the chair and been able to reach the keyboard. He was pecking at the keys while muttering under his breath. At first she thought he was chanting a spell, but as she listened closer she realized he was just talking to himself as he searched the Internet.
"I can't believe you are using Google. Don't you have... You know, some dark and mysterious power that you can use instead?"
"Like Yahoo? Be serious. We need information," said Bob. The glow from the computer screen made his pale skin look almost translucent. Morgan noticed he had blue veins running down the side of his neck. She had missed that earlier.
Turning around to face her, Bob continued. "When you first told me about your problem I figured we were looking at an abduction or maybe a runaway. You know, normal mundane stuff. We'd find a trail, follow it, and at the end there would be Henry. After what I've seen tonight, it's clear that there is something more going on."
"Magic," said Morgan, nodding her head. She sat on her bed, leaning back against the headboard with a couple of pillows wedged under her. "I get that. Someone used magic to lure Henry away. What I don't understand is why you're using a computer and not a crystal ball or chicken bones or something magical to find out more."
"That is one of the problems with powers," said Bob. "The more you use them the easier it is to dismiss the mundane stuff. Whatever is involved used magic to cover its tracks, and I don't think it's the first time."
"You're wasting your time if you're looking for a pattern. Whitebridge is a small town. Nothing like this has happened before. Not since I've lived here."
"You might be surprised. Lots of odd things happen in the world every day, but it's explained away. Humans would rather rationalize a lie than face a disturbing truth. Before tonight would you have given that yellow fog a second thought?"
"Before tonight I wouldn't have noticed it," answered Morgan.
"You might have. You have power. The book you found, and my efforts are only helping you access what's already inside of you. But noticing something isn't enough. Not if you don't act on it."
Morgan yawned. The adrenaline spike that came with finding the book and summoning Bob had faded. It would be sunrise in a few hours, and she had been up since the previous dawn.
"Alright. I get it. You are hoping that whoever took Henry only used magic to hide what happened, and you are going to find something that everyone else missed because you're willing to see the magical in the everyday stuff."
"Moda," said Bob with a smile. "You are a bright one. That's exactly what I'm doing."
The little demon turned back to the laptop and resumed his typing. He scrolled through pages about the history of the town.
"What's a Moda?" asked Morgan. "I've heard you say that before. Is that a demon word for master?"
Bob stopped his reading and laughed. "Not unless you make it one. Moda is short for Mistress of the Dark Arts. Since you won't give me your name, I needed to call you something. Unless you've changed your mind about that."
Morgan shook her head. "That's not happening. I appreciate everything you've done, but that doesn't mean I trust you. Let's not forget you are a demon I summoned from Hell."
Bob sighed as he corrected her. "Lost soul from the underworld, not a demon from Hell. There actually aren't that many true demons. Most of us want to redeem ourselves and be freed. A few, and I mean a few, go all fire and brimstones. They are the demon wannabes, the ones waiting to be summoned. They might make it one day, but they are just as likely to be eaten by something bigger and nastier than they are. They are the ones who come to this world to wreak havoc."
Morgan sat up, studying Bob closely. He was an ugly little bugger, but there was nothing mean or vicious about him. In fact, he was the exact opposite. He had been nothing but kind and helpful. Still, he was a demon or at least something with the potential to be a demon if she believed what he was saying.
"How do you tell which one is which?" she asked.
"You can't," said Bob. "Not really. The dark ones tend to be nasty pieces of work and it's hard for them to fake being anything else, but they can fake it when they have to. Eventually they will turn on you, and that's pretty much the only time you'll know for sure. In that way they aren't much different than people."
"Yeah," said Morgan. "I know a few people like that." She tried to fight back a yawn but failed. "Is there anything I can do? I can't just wait here and do nothing while you do all of the work."
"Get some rest. You look like you are going to pass out any minute. You'll need to be at the top of your game when we go back to the library later. Or, if you can't sleep, read that book of yours. Maybe you'll find something in there that we can use. Either way, try to be quiet so that I can focus."
Morgan picked up the book and the pages glowed in her hand. "Tell me if you find anything," she said.
"Don't worry. I will."
He didn't. Bob intended to, but when he turned to fill Morgan in, she was curled up in a ball facing him. She still had the book, holding it like a teddy bear. It wasn't glowing now. His information could wait. Right now, she needed sleep more. He would tell her everything when she woke up.
A large, black fly buzzed past Bob's head, and he instinctively ducked as he flung his arms up. No one likes a bug in the face. Not even a demon. It landed on the corner of the desk and faced Bob. The two of them locked into a staring contest as Bob slowly grabbed the pad of paper he had been taking notes on. With a quick jerk, he slapped the notepad down, squishing the fly beneath it.
Morgan stirred at the sound but didn't wake. He used the pad to slide the dead fly off the desk and into the trash.
"That's not good." Bob turned back to the computer. He didn't have much time to plan and he could
n't afford to waste a minute of it.
The next few hours passed quickly with only a few minor disturbances. He would never have thought that Morgan could snore so loudly. She only made a few snorts before falling quiet once more, but the first one always caught Bob by surprise. He would jump and spin, looking back and forth until he realized that it was only the young woman deep asleep.
Sunlight blazed through the open window, and Bob had to stop work to look. Clambering down from the desk, he managed to climb up to the windowsill and feel the warmth of the day on his face. The leaves on the trees were turning orange and yellow, but the lawn was still green. It needed to be cut, and the leaves needed to be raked. Everything was so bright and colorful. There was nothing quite like a sunlit view in the morning.
Bob was so wrapped up in looking at the birds hopping around beneath the trees, he didn't notice the police car stop in front of the house until he heard the chime of the doorbell.
"Oh hell," he muttered before jumping down from the window and running over to the bed. He jumped up and slapped the side of the mattress. "Wake up, Moda. Wake up."
"What?" Her voice was groggy as she struggled awake.
"There's a cop at the door."
"A cop? Where?"
The doorbell rang again, and she jumped out of bed, nearly stepping on Bob as her feet hit the floor.
"Maybe they found something," she said. "Wait here. I'll be right back." She didn't wait for a response before running out of the room and closing the door behind her. It occurred to her as she reached the front door that she had just left a demon alone in her bedroom. Then again, she had fallen asleep in the same room with him, and she had survived that. Nope. Better to leave him alone for a few minutes than to explain him to whoever was on the other side of the door.
"Officer Jimmy," she said as she pulled open the door, startling the young officer whose finger was poised to press the doorbell one more time. "Did you find him? How is he?"
The officer stammered and took a step back. He looked at the porch beneath his feet. "Ah... no. I'm sorry. I haven't heard anything new about Henry."
"Oh," said Morgan. "Then why are you here?"
Jimmy Bond took off his hat and held it in both hands. His eyes still on the ground and not looking at Morgan. "I... Well, I thought you might need a ride. Your car is still at the hospital isn't it?"
"That's my aunt's car," said Morgan with a quick glance over her shoulder. Had she heard something? It sounded like something fell. Bob better not have left her room. She couldn't let Jimmy see him. "Wasn't I supposed to call you if I needed anything?"
The young officer took another step back. One more and he would be off the porch. "I... I was in the area and well... the Chief... He thought it would be a good idea."
Morgan shook her head. "If your Chief is so concerned about me, then maybe he shouldn't have called off the search for my cousin. I'm not the one who needs checking up on." She grabbed the door and took a step back to close it.
"Wait," said Jimmy. "It was my idea." She didn't immediately slam the door, so he paused and took a deep breath. "Look. I knew you weren't going to call, and I know you don't need someone watching over you. With everything that has happened this week, you've been pretty amazing. You've been strong for your Aunt. Never letting her lose hope. And, well, I just wanted an excuse to see you today."
As he talked, Jimmy lost his stammer and stopped looking at the floor. His eyes were on her and he had that same goofy grin that he had last night when she discovered his name.
Morgan was trying to decide if he was a genuinely nice guy or some sort of serial stalker using his uniform to get close to women when she noticed the tick-tock of the clock behind her. He had stopped talking and now she was just standing there, staring at him as the clock counted the seconds. There was another thump. This time she was positive it came from upstairs.
"Well, you've seen me," she snapped, and it came out much harsher than she intended. She tried to smile to soften the words, but the noises from upstairs were distracting her. It sounded like her little demon was running around her room. If she didn't get rid of Officer Bond, it wouldn't be long before he noticed it too.
"You seem like a nice guy," she said. “But, I've got a lot on my mind right now. I don't want to be rude, but I don't really have time to chit chat either."
She closed the door quickly. It wasn't quite a slam, but only because she caught it just before it crashed into the door frame. The sounds coming from upstairs had stopped, and the silence was even more unnerving than the noise. What was the demon doing?
CH 6 - Time to Run
The silence didn't last long. Morgan made it halfway up the stairs before she heard another crash come from her room. It was the sound of breaking glass followed by a thump of something heavy. She had closed the door just in time. There was no way that Officer Jimmy would have missed hearing that noise if he had still been standing in the open doorway.
She risked a quick glance over her shoulder at the front door to make sure the overeager cop wasn't busting through with his gun drawn. Nope. He was probably back in his car, out of hearing range of whatever was going on upstairs.
Which was great as Morgan planned on strangling Bob when she got her hands on him, and she didn't want any witnesses. What the hell was that demon doing? If this was his idea of staying quiet, then they were screwed when they headed back to the library.
Morgan fought the urge to yell as she raced the rest of the way to her room. She twisted the doorknob and hit the door with both hands, making a resounding smack. It swung open, into the wall or at least as close to the wall as it could go with the overflowing laundry blocking the way. She stood in the doorway, hands on her hips just like Aunt Helen did when you knew things were about to get serious.
"Shit."
The stench of rotting eggs rolled out of the room and enveloped Morgan in a noxious cloud that forced her to gag. Dark goo was splattered everywhere. It was on her bed, the walls and even the ceiling. The mirror above her dresser looked like it exploded. The frame was cracked, and shards of broken glass spread out in an arc in front it. A few pieces had reached the opposite side of the room where they had hit with enough force to stick into the wall.
In the middle of it all was Bob. He rolled across the floor grappling with what looked like a giant, fuzzy, black toad if a giant fuzzy, black toad actually existed and if they had the arms and legs of a person instead of a toad. It wasn't a giant toad. It was a mini Gungan, right out of Star Wars.
They stopped rolling around with the Gungan-toad looking thing on top. Bob struggled to free himself, but he wasn't getting any leverage.
Morgan ran forward and kicked the thing on top with everything she had. It flew into the air like a perfect field goal attempt and slammed into the wall where it went splat like a water balloon filled with black paint. The toad thing was gone, leaving behind a splatter pattern of more black goo.
"Quick," shouted Bob. "Run. Before it reforms."
She didn't have to ask what he meant. The splatter pattern slithered across the wall and began to congeal into a solid mass. Running sounded like a great idea. Morgan plucked Bob from the ground and spun to make a dash for the hall when she noticed the book and Bob's notes next to her laptop on the desk. She tossed Bob onto the desk, and he slid across the surface on his butt before coming to a stop a few inches from the edge.
"Grab your notes," she said as she snatched the backpack from the bed and shoved the spellbook inside of it. She reached for Bob next, but the little demon was ready for her. With his notebook tucked under one arm, he jumped off the desk right at her.
She squealed, taking a step back as Bob smacked into the backpack. He tried to grab the top of the bag but missed. Face planting into it instead. Sliding down the front, he snagged his arm on the open pocket and hung there with his feet hanging past the bottom of the pack.
"Don't just stand there," he gasped as he scrambled his way inside of the open pocket. "Run!
"
That was still a great idea as far as Morgan was concerned. The splatter had slithered back into a ball that had slid down the side of the wall. It bulged, and then hands and feet and that ugly Gungan-toad head popped out. Then it jumped, clearing half the distance to them in a single leap. Morgan jerked the desk chair back and pushed it at the thing just as it started to jump again, blocking its path.
Before it got any closer, Morgan was in the hall, pulling the door shut behind her. There wasn't any way to lock it from this side, and even if there was, the door wasn't built to stop an intruder. A kid pumped up on too much sugar would be able to bust his way through in less than a minute. Morgan doubted it would slow the thing on the other side down for even that long. She didn't plan on sticking around to find out for sure.
She practically jumped down the stairs, skidded past the front door and headed through the kitchen to the back door. Hanging on the hook next to the door was the keys to her dad's SUV. Technically, it became Morgan's when her dad went away, but she never thought of it as hers. She didn't drive it so much as borrow it from time to time.
A crash from upstairs told her that her head start was over. The Gungan-toad thing was through the door. From the noise it made, the thing hadn't been smart enough to just turn the knob and open the door.
Morgan left the house, closing and locking the kitchen door behind her. Unlike the thinner interior doors, the kitchen door was solid and designed to keep out intruders. If Bob's little friend was going to bash his way through it, he'd find it a lot harder than Morgan's bedroom door. Every second that thing was slowed down was more distance that she could put between them.
The backyard wasn't big. Henry's old swing set still stood in the yard against the privacy fence. The metal tubing going to rust. Her cousin never used it anymore. A big shed stood at the back of the yard. Years before Morgan moved in it had been a workshop. Now it just stored the lawn tools and whatever odds and ends Aunt Helen didn't want to keep in the attic.
