by Alan Baxter
‘Sure. I’ll do it when I get to the airport. Thanks, Dave, you’re a hero!’ She kissed him on the cheek as she stepped out the door.
He swung a kick at her backside as she hopped down the steps. ‘Get outta here. Send me a good story!’
‘I will, Dave. You know me.’
He laughed, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his dressing gown. ‘Yeah, I know you.’
He watched her back out of the driveway, then shut the door as she pulled away into the street. He didn’t return her wave, but she saw his smile as the door closed. She headed for home, making a mental list of all the things she would need to pack, for the three weeks in the Amazon as well as for Guatemala. That was all right, she worked well under pressure. Still thinking about her packing she reached for her cellphone again. As she thumbed the menu to Peter’s number she braced herself for his disappointment.
‘Katherine?’
‘Hiya, Peter, did I wake you?’
He yawned at the other end. ‘Kinda. I fell asleep on the couch. I was hoping you might ring earlier, I have to work tomorrow.’
‘Peter, honey, I know, but guess what?’
There was a short laugh at the other end. ‘Change of plans, you’re going to South America tomorrow and you only have tonight to see me. Just as well I’m a vigorous man, Kath!’
Katherine winced again. ‘Oh, shit, Peter. The news isn’t even that good.’ She felt him deflate slightly at the other end. ‘I have to leave right away.’
‘Right away? Shit, Kath, I haven’t seen you all week and now you’re leaving for another, what, month, with no notice at all. This is hard, babe, you know that?’
‘I know, Peter, but I have a lead on such a hot story and I can get there on my way...’ Katherine paused, knowing her enthusiasm was a little insensitive. ‘I guess you don’t really give a damn, huh?’
There was a moment of silence from the other end. ‘Not really, Kath, no. Are you driving to the airport now?’
‘No, I’m going home to pack. I have to be there at about 4am. But I promise, Peter, when I get back this time I’ll be owed a real rest. Like a real holiday. What about you and me take a few days somewhere nice, where there’s nothing to do?’
Peter laughed. ‘How about my bedroom?’
‘That sounds like a good idea, honey!’
There was another moment of silence, then Peter spoke again. ‘Will you, though? Will you take a few days when you get back? ‘Cause this is getting really hard for me, Kath, and I don’t want to look forward for a month and only have another let down.’
There was slight tear in Katherine’s eye. Peter was such a nice man, she really didn’t deserve him. ‘I really promise. I get back on a Tuesday. Give me the rest of that week to put whatever I’ve gathered together and the following week I’m yours. I’ll book off the whole week. We could even go down to the Keys maybe, or an island.’
‘You know what?’ Peter’s voice sounded a little less sad.
‘What?’
‘I’m gonna make you seal that promise with a kiss. I’ll be at the airport from three forty five and you’d better be there to give me enough kisses to last while you’re gone!’
‘But Peter, you have to work and it’s already late.’
‘What do I care? I’ve got a month of early nights coming up ‘cause I’ll have nothing else to do.’
Katherine laughed. ‘You are cruel, Peter. I... I’d love to see you at the airport.’
‘Okay, I’ll wait by Information.’ He blew a kiss down the phone then hung up.
Katherine was smiling as she drove towards her house. She pocketed her phone and took a deep breath. As she approached home she gently shook her head. Shit, I nearly told him that I love him!
Isiah sat in a big, overstuffed armchair by the window, studiously rolling himself a cigarette. He had an immortal body, immune to disease and illness of just about every kind. Anything that did get him he could easily cure himself of, so smoking was not a health risk. Just something to do which he enjoyed, like his occasional beers, the rare joint.
He had gone through a period of sheer rebellion many, many years ago, pure defiance. Immortal body, no limits was his maxim for a few years. He had dived headlong into a life of utter hedonism, consuming drugs and alcohol like his life depended on it. He had an outstanding reputation in the area where he had lived, partyman extraordinaire. Then he eventually calmed down. It got tiresome after a while. The Balance had been patient, understanding even. It was fun while it lasted.
He knew it was corny, smoking after sex, but it was one of the times he enjoyed a cigarette most. He watched the hooker, Stephanie, Steph to her friends, pulling on a long robe, covering her nakedness. He was disappointed as she pulled the belt tight, she was good to look at, voluptuous, curved. He was already dressed, satisfied.
She smiled as he lit his cigarette.
He smiled back at her. ‘What’s funny?’
‘Nothing. Just thinking how pleased I am that you chose me tonight.’
His smile broadened slightly. ‘Oh? Why?’
She shook her head, her long, wavy hair stroking her smooth shoulders. ‘You’re good. And you’re gentle.’
Isiah just nodded, watching her as he drew on his cigarette. She reached towards him, wiggling her fingers at his hand. He handed her the neatly rolled smoke. She took a long, deep draw. ‘Thanks,’ she said through smoke, handing it back.
‘Why do you do it?’ Isiah asked. Looking up into her big, green eyes he added, ‘You don’t have to tell me.’
Steph thought for a while. ‘Look at it like an investment. There’s no other job that I can do and pull in nearly the same amount of money. I’m saving. When I have enough stashed away I’ll give it up for something easier and safer. It’s an age-old excuse for my line of work, but a true one.’
‘It can be a pretty rough way to earn.’ Statement.
‘Sure it can, but I’m a careful girl! I’m my own boss, I don’t do drugs, keep my head down, if you’ll pardon the pun.’
Isiah smiled, she was a nice girl. ‘So how much longer do you think you’ll work the street?’
‘Another year, tops. Then I’m out.’
Isiah took another toke of his cigarette then offered it back to her, looking thoughtfully into her eyes. His gaze could be disarmingly direct, his black eyes mesmerising, but she didn’t seem phased. ‘You look so serious, man.’
‘Got a lot on my mind.’
‘Did I help you forget it for a while?’
‘Oh yeah, you did that.’ She handed back the cigarette, leaned back on the bed, supporting herself with her arms behind her. She ignored her robe as it fell open, revealing that enticing nakedness again. ‘Good. It’s nice to know I’m good at my job!’
‘I guess there’s a certain amount of pride in a job well done.’
She giggled girlishly. ‘Of course. Like I said, sometimes I get to really enjoy my work.’
It was still raining outside, the staccato beat of the drops on the window was a lonely sound, but comforting. Isiah looked out, watched the familiar game of chase down the grubby glass pane. He sighed deeply as he ground out the butt of his cigarette in a battered brass ashtray on the windowsill. Steph stepped off the bed, letting her robe fall fully open. She knelt astride his lap in the big armchair. Her butt was warm on his knees, the smell of sex still on her, intoxicating.
She leaned forward, hot breath on his neck, caressing. ‘You seem so sad. How about another one. No charge.’
Isiah ran his hands gently over her shoulders, down her arms, breathing deeply of her luxuriant hair. His thumbs gently brushed the swell of her breasts. ‘I really don’t have the time. I would love to stay here with you for days, but I really don’t have the time.’
She leaned back again, her eyes sad. ‘That is a shame. Maybe you’ll come to see me again one day?’
‘Maybe I will.’
Steph kissed him firmly, her lips warm, full. She slid slowly from his lap, tem
ptress, pulled her robe back about her. Isiah pulled money from his wallet, twice as much as she had asked for. ‘Don’t argue,’ he said in response to her raised eyebrow. ‘You deserve it and I can afford it. One step closer to a new career.’
She slipped the folded bills into one of the big pockets of her robe. Her smile was sad. ‘Thanks. You’re something different, you know?’
‘You don’t know the half of it.’
The rain outside was cool and refreshing, the swoosh of a passing car like a tripswitch back into reality. Isiah’s reality at least. He took a deep breath, Time to get to work. Looking around for somewhere quiet, he realised how empty the streets were, almost deserted. It was late after all, and wet. And people tended to stay home after dark in neighbourhoods like this. He stepped back into the shadows, turned his face up to enjoy the cool rain for a moment.
As heaviness washed over him, molecular cohesion, he created a flame in the oil lamp, tired of the longhand human methods for the time being. The tomb sprang into flickering orange light, the sarcophagus housing the corpse of Andre Todd seemingly untouched. He lifted the heavy stone lid clear, resting it on the floor, leaning against the side of the big coffin. Andre’s face was peaceful in repose, though more discoloured now. The coolness of the crypt had protected the body to a certain degree, preventing decomposition. It would be all right for a few more hours yet. Time enough. After a moments thought, Isiah replaced the heavy lid, just in case.
He looked around himself critically. This place was a bit cramped for what he had to do, but it would have to suffice. He needed two things now. Information and a disguise. There was a way of killing two birds with one stone. The Realm of Hell was enormous, plane upon plane of suffering, torture, degradation. The combined beliefs of millions of people, alive and dead, shaped it into a sprawling, incomprehensible dimension, as good as infinite. Lucifer ruled his Realm with a certain omnipotence, shared by all the gods and deities of man, the only way they could exist. But they were as fallible as any other being. Isiah needed a clue, somewhere to start looking. Reduce the size of the haystack before he started searching for the needle.
He knew Satan would be taking a rather more personal hand in the suffering of Samuel Harrigan. How to get close to Samuel without alerting the Devil himself? All generals had lieutenants. Isiah sat on the cold stone floor of the tomb and closed his eyes, drew in his will. He smiled slightly at images of chalk circles, complex sigils, black candles, sacrifice. It was all a matter of what you believed. The only real key was knowing exactly who you wanted, by name. And, of course, the power to survive.
There were a million places in Hell ruled by other demons, all reporting to Satan in their own gristly way. Isiah needed one that would know of Satan’s current dealings without being too close for his absence to be noticed. He let his will go, directing a summons deep into the Realm of Hell, calling out a hideous name in an ancient, foul tongue. There was a psychic growl of anger in response, distant, defiant. Isiah increased the pressure, called out again, Come here. The growl became a roar, nearer, deafening inside Isiah’s mind, tearing at the walls of his consciousness. He persevered, flexing mental muscles, asserting his authority. The roar became a scream of rage, hot, liquid sound. Isiah grimaced, the scream red pain in his mind. Then a sudden physical sensation of presence, smell of sulphur and other fetid secretions. The tomb was as hot as a furnace, green and red light, glowing, flickering. Isiah snapped open his eyes.
A huge bulk stood before him, massively muscled shoulders pressed against the ceiling of the tomb, twisted, heavy browed face leering within inches of his own, foul breath like a searing wind in his eyes. Isiah immediately powered out a punch, crashing into the middle of that hideous face, rocking the distorted head back up against the ceiling. Breathing as deeply and evenly as possible, desperately trying to conceal his trembling, Isiah slowly stood, stepped back a pace.
The demon howled in rage, its massive arms flying out, dripping, taloned hands reaching for his throat, face. Isiah threw up a wall of pure energy, a shield of will, proof that he was far more powerful than the demon. The huge rippling arms shuddered as they crashed into the invisible barrier, barely a handspan from Isiah’s soft neck. The demon screamed in rage again, the sound bouncing around the tiny space. Isiah grimaced, his eardrums threatening to burst. In a voice reverberating with his power he commanded, ‘Silence.’ The voice was not a shout, but it boomed out, louder than the demon’s wails.
The demon narrowed its burning eyes, leaned close, baring its long, curved teeth, sharp, deadly forest. ‘How dare you!’
‘I dare nothing, you disgusting abomination. I simply do as I please.’ He had it now. It knew it was trapped here all the time it could not get to him. ‘You’ll tell me answers to what I ask. Eventually I’ll let you go.’
The demon growled, low, deep. ‘Why should I help you at all, Interferer? Lucifer will crush you.’
‘First, he’d have to know. Then he’d have to beat me. Neither of those things is going to happen. You will answer me.’
The demon sneered, thick, viscous saliva dripping from its twisted jaws. ‘Will I?’
Isiah gathered his will again, released a slow pain of energy at the demon, drilling between the very molecules of its being, then began closing a psychic grip about it, crushing it. ‘I can trap you in an eternity of suffering and pain. I can ensure that you never see Hell again.’ The demon roared in rage, its hideous face twisted in pain and anger. ‘I can even deliver you to angels. You’d be amazed how nasty they can be. They’re used to killing after all, God’s soldiers.’
The demon screamed, beating on Isiah’s mental shield. ‘Send me back, you fucking worm!’
‘You gonna tell me what I want to know?’
Suddenly the demon calmed, sitting back on its haunches. Its anger was still well in evidence, it oozed malevolence from every atom, but it knew it was trapped. ‘You can ask what you will, Interferer. I won’t promise any answers.’
Isiah smiled. ‘Where is Samuel Harrigan?’
The demon chuckled, a deep, throaty sound. ‘Are you still trying to get to that piece of shit? He is beyond you.’
‘I’ll be the judge of that. Where is he?’
‘Lucifer has him. He’s getting used to the idea of his new home.’
‘Has he accepted it yet?’
The demon grinned. ‘I see where you are heading with this. No, not yet. It takes some time to understand the concept.’
‘I can imagine.’ Isiah breathed an internal sigh of relief, at least he wasn’t too late. ‘So where in Hell is he?’
‘Deep, Interferer. Very, very deep.’
‘Deeper than all the priests and bishops in Purgatory? Deeper than the souls of the Damned, waiting for resolution?’
‘Much deeper. Lakes of fire burn far above him.’ The demon leaned forward, one long, gnarled finger pointing up under Isiah’s chin. ‘You would have to go to the very Pit of Hell to reach him, Interferer. Are you up to that? You would be torn to shreds before you took a single step if you appeared there.’
Isiah nodded slowly, that was as much as he had suspected. ‘Indeed I would. If anything realised it was me.’
‘What’s that supposed to mean.’
‘I’m afraid you are going to be my disguise.’
The demon’s heavy brows creased together in a deep frown. ‘What the fuck are you talking about?’
Isiah said nothing for a moment as he took a visual and mental note of the demon, forming a complete image in his mind. Then he forced his consciousness into the demon’s own, driving down into its foul memories, hateful emotions. The demon roared in rage, its hands flying up to either side of its head, like it was holding its skull from bursting. ‘What the fuck are you doing? Get out of my mind!’ Isiah persevered, his face a mask of concentration, taking every last detail of the demon’s persona in a blueprint he could copy, imitate. The demon roared on. ‘I’ll rip your heart out, you fuck! I’ll tear your soul apart!’
>
With a gasp, Isiah pulled back, releasing his grip on the demon’s mind. He staggered slightly from the effort. Immediately the demon lunged for him, trying to catch him while he was weak, but his shield was strong. The demon’s yell of impotent rage was deafening.
Isiah took a deep breath, steadied himself. ‘Now we need someone to babysit you for a while. Keep you out of the way while I’m gone.’
The demon’s eyes narrowed. ‘You wouldn’t dare.’
‘Well, I can’t simply destroy you. That would just cast you straight back into Hell, and that’s exactly where I don’t want you to be.’
Isiah closed his eyes, called out across the dimensions. The demon’s roars were muffled while he concentrated. Then its screams of rage turned into wails of sheer terror and pain as the small tomb filled with bright white light and pure divinity. The demon forced himself back into the corner, folding his arms across his face, whimpering in horror.
Gabriel looked at Isiah, a mischievous smile twitching the corners of his beautiful mouth. ‘I wondered if you’d call me.’
Isiah could relax now, the demon utterly powerless in the presence of such intense holy energy. ‘Do me a favour, Gabriel?’ he asked, smiling as well.
Gabriel inclined his head gracefully. ‘I’d love to, Isiah. How long do you want him kept quiet for?’
‘A few days? Till all this is over?’
Gabriel nodded, his full blond hair bobbing. ‘No problem. You realise it’s not entirely obeying the rules, of course.’
Isiah raised his hands, palms upwards in supplication. ‘My very existence bends the rules.’
‘Indeed it does, Interferer.’ Gabriel’s tone was mocking. ‘You’ve helped us often enough. And hindered us actually, but we’re nothing if not forgiving.’
Isiah laughed. ‘You’re far too sarcastic for an angel.’
‘Got to have a sense of humour, Isiah. Eternity would have been a long haul without it.’
‘Tell me about it. And I’ve had a fraction of yours.’
‘Indeed.’
