A Shot in the Dark jjd-2

by K. A. Stewart

  Unfortunately, the skuzzy little vermin were not being cooperative. We had to have them all within the confines of the mirror to get them all yanked across. One of them, maybe sensing its imminent demise, crept around just at the edges of its fellows, pausing to comb through its greasy mat of fur about every third step.

  “Dammit, come on… scoot over…” It would scurry almost into frame, then hesitate, backing up a few steps. It seemed reluctant to stray too far from Zane and Oscar, but at the same time it was afraid to get too close.

  “Here, maybe if I…” Watching himself in the large mirror, Zane held out his hand to the creature, palm up. Though there was nothing visible in the room with us, in the reflection we could watch the parasite sniff the kid’s hand, swaying on its three-toed feet in indecision.

  Finally, it seemed to come to some conclusion, and clambered its way on to Zane’s hand, spindly legs scrabbling for purchase on his narrow arm.

  The kid frowned a little. “I… can’t feel anything. Just cold. My fingers are cold.” Slowly, he retracted his hand until he was holding the little Scrap demon in his lap, and then it scuttled off to join its brethren in their constant exploration of the Quinns.

  “Let’s get this show on the road before any more of them get adventurous.” I found a place above one of the demons, holding my sword just above the greasy little mop. I nodded to Cam. “Do it.”

  With a good hard swing of a hammer, the glass shattered, falling out of the frame to fragment all over the floor. What followed looked like the greased pig chase from Hell. Literally. All we were lacking was the Benny Hill music.

  The Scrap demons screamed as they were yanked into the physical world. Now, one of them is bad enough, but eleventeen of them screeching in unison was enough to almost deafen us. Even as they sprinted in every direction, I drove my sword down with both hands, feeling the crunch as it cracked the hard carapace and stuck in the wood floor. My first victim wriggled spastically for a heartbeat, then poofed into a small black cloud that dissipated almost immediately. I wrenched the blade free and went after another.

  “Get ’em, boy!” Marty called encouragement to his dog even as his hatchet split one of the parasites in two. Duke didn’t need the urging, bellowing as he barreled into the knot of them. Scrap demons went flying everywhere as the big mutt whipped his head from side to side.

  One of them made a scuttle for the kitchen cabinets, and I dove after it. “Get back here, you little-” It turned to hiss at me, toothy maw gaping. The venomous mouth took up almost the entirety of its greasy little body, the mop opening up to reveal rows upon rows of sharp, serrated teeth. One good sword thrust between the dentures, and it was so much blight, drifting back to where it came from.

  I could hear the sickening cracks as one by one, the Scraps were reduced to their base essence, wafting away to darker realms. Will pinned one to the wall with the fireplace poker, and another attempted to clamber up his back, fleeing in blind panic. “Don’t move, Will!” Good man, he froze and I batted the thing off with my sword, in Cole’s direction. “Get it, little brother!”

  “There’s one under the coatrack!” Oscar pointed, but Duke got there first, and there was a screech as the scruffy thing met its demise in the dog’s massive jaws. The coatrack itself… well, we could use it for kindling later.

  A twitch in the curtains behind Marty caught my eye. “Marty, the curtains!”

  The hatchet made a solid thunk as it buried itself in the wall, thrown with deadly accuracy, and the demon gave a sad little twitch as it died. I blinked at Marty, and he shrugged. “Blacksmiths do that.”

  “Little help here!” Will had one on the run, but it was making a beeline for the fireplace. If it got up the chimney, we’d lose it. My buddy launched his poker at the creature, and it clanged against the hearth, sending brick chips flying. The demon reversed course and scurried toward Marty.

  Unarmed, Marty stomped down with one heavy boot, and the greasy thing went splat, its legs flailing until they disintegrated into blight.

  It took us all a moment to realize we had no more targets in sight.

  “Was that… was that all of them?” We turned in slow circles, eyeing the shadowy corners of the room.

  “I think so.” My eyes were on Duke, though. The mastiff prowled the room, sniffing under things until he was satisfied. Only once did he hesitate, at the foot of the stairs, a faint growl rumbling through his chest, but whatever was up there wasn’t worth pursuing because he let it go. I made a mental note to check out the second floor later. If the dog wasn’t worried, it would wait. “I think we’re good.”

  “How soon will we know if it’s gonna help Zane and Oscar?” Will was already eyeing his patient critically.

  “Dad? Dad, you okay?” We turned to see Zane peering at his father as the older man blinked in confusion.

  Oscar took a few deep, experimental breaths. “Yeah, I think so. I just… I can breathe again. Like there’s a weight gone.” The older man rolled his shoulders hesitantly, and breathed deeply.

  “‘Bout that quick. See how Zane’s doing. I’ll get this glass cleaned up.” Mirror shards crunched under my boots, scattered all over the floor in the chaos.

  Cameron was on his feet, albeit wobbly, when I took the mirror frame away from him, leaning it on the bar. “I should go sit with the Quinns. Maybe I can offer them some comfort…”

  I grabbed his shoulder, squeezing harder than was strictly necessary. “I don’t think so. You owe me a talk.” Now that the immediate threat was over, and I had time to really think about it, I was getting pissed. Cameron was so much more than he’d pretended, which meant he’d lied to me, my friends, my wife, and most importantly, to a woman I greatly respected and cared for. Dr. Bridget was my wife’s best friend, yes, but she was one of mine too. And if you think protective dads are bad, just wait ’til you get a load of me.

  He glanced around the room, and I knew we were both thinking the same thing. Civilians. “Not here. Upstairs.”

  I nodded, and went about cleaning up the mess first. There was glass to sweep, and blood to mop, and that was just the start of things. It was going to take him a bit to get up the stairs anyway, in the condition he was in. I was honestly amazed that he hadn’t collapsed already.

  By the time I got the glass in the trash, the possibly ex-priest was out of sight. I headed for the stairs with one of the lanterns. This wasn’t a night to be in the dark.

  I picked up my sword, too, on the way up. Duke was wary of the second floor for some reason, and I wasn’t taking any chances. In the white light of the Coleman lantern, there seemed to be nothing amiss, however. The sleeping bags were all still laid out where we’d left them, and there really wasn’t anywhere for anything to hide. Just the darkest shadows, gathering in the eaves of the roof. I raised the light higher to banish them, proving to myself that there was nothing there. Nope, just me and the hiss of the kerosene lantern. And Cam of course.

  He eyed my bared blade from his seat on his own sleeping bag. “Thinking of using it?”

  “I guess that’s going to depend on what you say. Jesse’s a very grumpy fellow at this exact moment.” I set the lantern on the floor.

  “Does Jesse often refer to himself in the third person?” When I just gave him a flat look, he sighed wearily. “You’ve got every right to be angry. And suspicious.” Instead of offering more, though, he just sat and looked at me.

  “Look, I’m not going to play twenty questions with you. Spill it. Now.” I’d never turned my sword on another human being in my life-What were those things outside? Shut up, Jesse. -but at that moment I wanted to.

  “All right, but you’re not going to like most of what I’m going to say.”

  I settled for perching on Will’s sleeping bag, still rolled into its little ball. “You don’t get to presume to know me that well. Talk.” The lantern left us in a small bubble of light, with the night pressing in all around. I felt like we were two kids, telling ghost stories in the da
rk. Only there really were ghosts in the dark, and they were trying to eat my face.

  “I wasn’t honest with you. With any of you. About who I am.”

  “Y’think? Is Cameron even your name?”

  He nodded. “Brother Cameron, to be more precise.”

  “Oh God, you’re a monk?!”

  He was trying for patience, and I knew I was sorely testing it. Couldn’t help myself, it’s my nature. “It’s a title. Just a title. I’m part of the Ordo Sancti Silvii, the Order of Saint Silvius. I don’t know if you’ve heard of us…”

  “I usually call you all the Knights Stuck-up-idus.”

  A faint smirk crossed his face. “I’ve heard that before. That was you?”

  Demon hunters, champions like me, only run by the Catholic Church. Five men, never fewer than five, operating under the name of a saint who didn’t exist. They had as little to do with us, Ivan’s champions, as possible. Mocked and reviled us, even. So why the sudden interest in fraternization?

  “So that makes you a holy roller?”

  “Yes, I am an ordained priest. Technically.”

  “And what are you doing here?”

  He sighed, raking fingers through his short hair. “We were… afraid something like this might happen. I was supposed to stay near you, keep an eye out.”

  “Something like what exactly? You knew we’d be ambushed and trapped inside a cabin in godforsaken nowhere?”

  “No.” Weariness just oozed from his pores. I’d seen Mira after some big magic, and it knocked her on her butt for days. I was surprised Cam was still upright, much less speaking coherently. “No, if I’d have known about this, I’d have come ready. Me being here on this day was just…”

  “If you say divine intervention, I’m going to kick you in the face.” Okay, there was a small flicker of guilt at the thought that I was threatening an actual priest, but it was a really tiny flicker.

  “Let’s say happy coincidence.”

  “So what do you know? Brother Cameron.” I leaned forward, keeping the sword between us. Y’know, just to remind him it was there.

  “Surprisingly little. I’m one of the frontline soldiers, not someone who calls the shots.” He blinked slowly as the tip of my sword came to rest on his hand, pinning it ever so lightly to the floor.

  “Look at me, Cameron.” I waited for him to raise his eyes. “I don’t trust you, and I don’t believe you. If I have to keep prying things out of you, one secret at a time, things are going to get ugly. In your current condition, you might want to think twice about trying to take me on.” See, in my world, where the code of the bushido ruled, Cam had already marked himself as a dishonorable man by lying to me. Punishing him for it was therefore just and right. Guess it was a good thing for him that I was a nicer guy than that.

  He looked me in the eyes for long moments, weighing his options, I guess. Finally, carefully, he picked the blade up with two fingers and moved it away from his hand. “We had heard… rumors. Rumors of a hit going out on champions, us, anyone who makes a name for themselves fighting against the demons.”

  “Rumors from where?”

  He hesitated for long moments until I tapped the back of his hand with my blade again. “I’m not… There are things that aren’t known outside the order. I shouldn’t speak of them.”

  “But you will.” I saw it in his eyes. He’d follow whatever orders he’d been given, but they didn’t set easily on him. He wanted to tell me; he just needed a little encouragement. “We’re all in danger here, Cam. We have a right to know why.”

  “There’s a book. An ancient text, older even than the oldest known printed Bible. It predates… everything, as nearly as we can tell. Written in three languages, left as an instruction manual of sorts. The order is based around it.”

  “Go on.” Ghost stories. In the dark. That’s all.

  Cameron rubbed the uninjured side of his head, and I could see him weighing his words carefully. “The book details a time of great strife. A time when the residents of Hell would rise up and war with each other. The war will spill over into the human world, causing complete and total destruction.”

  Like riots, droughts, wildfires. Revolutions and famine. Everything we’d been seeing on the news for months now. And this was just the beginning. “Chaos, mass hysteria, dogs and cats living together…” He didn’t get the reference and just gave me a puzzled look. “ Ghostbusters? No?”

  He gave me a flat look. “I got hit in the head today, forgive me. Anyway, like any prophecy, the clues and portents are open to interpretation. But our cardinal believes that the time is now, and that Hell’s first order of business will be to remove us. All of us.”

  I could tell Cameron believed it. I mean, really believed it. His order thought the end was near, probably in all capital letters. Normally, I’d have laughed in his face.

  Normally, that is, except for a few stray comments from Axel that I just couldn’t get out of my head. “They don’t follow the rules, Jesse.” “Think of it like a family food fight.” There was trouble brewing Down There. Axel was trying to make light of it, but there was some kind of internal discord. I promised myself that the next time Axel showed up, I was getting some kind of information out of him one way or another.

  “But they can’t hurt us. We have to allow it, we have to bargain for the fight, or they can’t touch us.” Ironclad rule. Except Axel’s words from last spring were marching double time around inside my head now. They don’t follow the rules, Jesse. Over and over again, like an alarm blaring. And more recently, We always come back.

  That one single fact was banging around in the back of my skull, part of me screaming in hysterical terror. The Yeti was back, but if I stopped to think about it right now, I’d cease to function. I’d think about it later. Hopefully.

  “Those things out there bled, didn’t they? You wiped it off your sword.” He nodded toward my blade. “Then they’re not demons. And they’re not subject to the edicts.”

  He was right. Whatever those things were… they weren’t demon, and all bets were off. Christ, I had to get to a phone, I had to call Ivan and warn him, send out an alert through Grapevine. Something. Anything. Oh Jesus… Esteban… The kid was with my wife and daughter. If they went after him…

  “We were watching all of you. All that we knew about. They sent me to Kansas City to… try and mitigate damage, I guess.”

  “And then you followed me up here. What about Esteban? Who’s watching him?”

  “The boy?” Cam blinked a little, obviously puzzled. “He’s just a kid. He wasn’t considered a priority, I guess. They didn’t think about putting someone with him-” He choked, possibly because I had him by the shirt collar, hauling him into my personal space.

  “That boy has killed a demon. And now he’s alone, with my wife and daughter. If anything happens to any of them, because you didn’t consider him worth saving…”

  His hands were strong-much stronger than I’d thought-as he gripped my wrist, trying to loosen my hold. Cam was a creature of surprises. “They said… no homes… Too hard to hit the homes, too much. .. protection…” He gasped when I let go, gulping air.

  Someone moved at the bottom of the stairs, a shadow sprawling across the ceiling above us. “Jesse? You guys okay up there?” Cole. And calling me by name was code. If I answered with anything other than “little brother,” he’d be up the stairs in a heartbeat, guns blazing. Figuratively. I think.

  “We’re fine, little brother. We’ll be down in a little bit.”

  “A’ight.”

  Cameron was still rubbing his throat when I looked back at him. “ Who said, Cam? You keep saying ‘they said.’ Who is ‘they’?”

  “There was… an interrogation. I wasn’t there. I told you I’m just a foot soldier. Information was obtained.”

  “They interrogated… what? A demon? How did…?” The concept was alien to me. How do you hold something that can disappear at will, let alone interrogate it with any semblance of cred
ibility? “How do you interrogate a demon?”

  “Trust me when I tell you that you don’t want to know.”

  “Even better than that, how did you find one? One just happened to fall for the box-and-stick trap?” Cam looked down, away, and a chill settled over my skin. “You summoned a demon, didn’t you? Summoned it, bound it somehow.”

  He still wouldn’t meet my eyes. “Not me personally, no.”

  “Doesn’t matter.” Something like that, you can’t just sit still for. I stood up to pace the confines of our small circle of light. “Christ on a freaking cracker, Cam. You’re supposed to be the good guys, and you’re summoning demons? You don’t summon demons! Not for anything, or anyone. That’s how they get in, just that little bit of acceptance. And after that, maybe a small deal, something harmless. Then a little more. Then more. Then they have you by your short and curlies and there isn’t crap you can do about it, unless you come to someone like me. You simply do not summon demons!”

  “It was necessary. We knew something was coming-we needed details. It was the only-”

  “Oh screw your details. I notice you didn’t impart any of this great wisdom on the rest of us. What if we hadn’t brought you on this trip, Cam? How many of your other ‘brothers’ weren’t anywhere near the people they were supposed to be watching? I mean hell, there’s only five of you to begin with!” Again, he refused to meet my eyes. “More than five. Probably lots more. Any other lies you’d like to clear up, while we’re up here?”

  “None of these things were my decision, Jesse. You have to know that.”

  “I don’t care whose decision it was. You just better hope the rest of your ‘brothers’ are as good at their job as you are. ’Cause if your secrets got anyone hurt, I will personally turn you over to Ivan Zelenko for an asswhupping.” Ivan was one person that I never ever wanted mad at me, and if the knights had endangered his people… Mad wasn’t even adequate to describe the old man’s reaction. I don’t think they’d invented a word yet for how pissed he was going to be. “And then I’m gonna kick the crap out of the pieces of you that are left.”