The Tenth Ward

by Rockwell Scott

  Rand’s mouth went dry.

  “That’s right,” Karax went on. “You know what I mean. Seventeen days. Why do you care so much, Randolph? No matter what you do, the girl will die anyway.”

  “That’s not true,” Rand said, although he knew it could be. When he’d first heard Karax on the recording, there had been no way to know if he’d meant Georgia would die from cystic fibrosis or be killed by him in seventeen days’ time.

  And he still didn’t know.

  Karax must’ve seen his thoughts on his face. “You don’t know. You can’t know. But I do, and I’m not going to tell you. All of this could be for nothing.” He smirked.

  Karax leapt upright on the bed, lithe and nimble like an acrobat, then jumped through the air, landed, and ran with blinding speed out of the ICU.

  37

  Rand grabbed the crucifix from where it had fallen onto the floor and took off after the demon. He only caught a glimpse of Karax fleeing before the demon bounded through the main doors of the ICU.

  Rand sprinted after Karax. The situation was bad enough, but having a demon-possessed girl running loose through the halls of the hospital was far more dangerous than anything else. Karax had all but destroyed the ICU, and he could easily extend that havoc to the rest of the hospital.

  In the hallway, Rand’s eyes darted from side to side. He spotted the door to the stairwell was falling closed. When he burst through, he found Karax crouching on the steps leading up.

  “Give it up, Randolph!”

  Rand ran up the stairs, but Karax only leapt away from him, clearing entire floors with a single jump. Rand had to take three steps at a time just to keep up.

  “You can’t have her!” the demon’s voice echoed down to him through the stairwell.

  You’re wrong about that.

  Rand rounded a corner on level 15R and saw the door falling closed. He followed Karax through it and found himself in a hallway that looked like it was under construction. Definitely not the main part of the hospital.

  It was a long corridor with plywood for walls. At the end, near a set of double doors, a security guard crouched by the wall, eyes wide and trembling.

  “Where is she?” Rand asked the man.

  “W-w-what was that thing?”

  “Where did she go?”

  The guard lifted a shaky finger and pointed to the doors on Rand’s left. Then he rose to his feet and ran away in terror.

  Rand pushed through the doors and stopped short. He was outside, the cool air and heavy wind slapping him hard in the face. The rest of St. Mary’s upper floors loomed above him. Red lights flashed in a circle on the ground.

  The hospital helipad.

  He spotted Karax on the far end of the helipad, standing right on the edge. The wind whipped at Georgia’s whitened hair and hospital gown, so strong it should have blown her over the side. Only the demon kept her footing sure.

  He means to throw her off. That’s how he wants to finish her.

  Rand and Karax eyed each other from opposite ends of the roof. He was maybe thirty paces away from Georgia. But the landing pad was wide between them, seeming miles in that moment.

  Rand ventured a step forward, hoping Karax would not drop himself off.

  The demon did not move. So Rand pressed on, crucifix gripped by his side.

  When he was halfway there, Karax finally spoke. “This place was special to her. There’s no better location for her to die.” He smiled.

  Proud of your own theatrics, Rand thought. He stopped advancing, letting the standoff continue.

  “Since you care so much about her, I assume you’d like to share her fate,” Karax went on. “You can lead the way down!”

  Karax broke into an inhumanly fast sprint, closing the distance between them in milliseconds. He pounced on Rand, knocking him backwards and wrestling him to the ground with ease. The crucifix spun away and out of reach.

  Hands went to Rand’s face, jagged thumbs aimed for his eyes. Georgia’s fingers had elongated, topped by long, yellow fingernails. Rand caught his wrists just in time and fought back against them, but the demon was lending Georgia’s body powerful strength.

  “The girl dies tonight,” Karax growled at him. “And I’ll take you with me. All three of us in hell together!”

  Karax leapt off of him and broke free of his grasp. He gripped Rand by the front of his shirt and pulled him to his feet, the seams ripping as he did. Rand tried to resist, but the demon dragged him to the edge of the helipad, slung him around, and pressed his back against nothing but the empty air. The wind whipped at him, and the lights from the police cars and ambulances that had arrived to evacuate the patients flashed what seemed like miles beneath him.

  Rand held onto Karax’s wrists, but the demon could let him topple over the side whenever he wanted.

  He’s so strong. So quick.

  Rand had never encountered anything like it before. No matter what he did, he always seemed to be at Karax’s mercy.

  Karax’s black eyes bored into him, studying him. Then his lips parted into a sharp-toothed smile. “Shindael will be pleased I brought you down with me.”

  Karax released him, and Rand toppled backwards. His entire body felt like one of those dreams where he was falling, only to wake up at the last minute.

  Just before he fell out of reach, Karax caught him again, pulling him back to the edge. It was the closest to death Rand had ever been, and his body knew it. Everything felt numb, as if it had all shut down to accept it.

  Karax squealed with laughter. “You should see your face!”

  A sound from overhead.

  A helicopter lowered over the landing pad, stirring up a heavy wind that ripped at Rand’s clothes and Georgia’s hospital gown.

  The demon twisted its head to look at it. The white, stringy hair blew in the gusts from the spinning blades.

  One last chance. Rand had only a moment while Karax was distracted. He slipped his hand into his jacket pocket and gripped the last vial of holy water.

  Karax looked back at him just in time for Rand to smash the vial onto his scaly face. The glass broke, the shards stabbing into Rand’s palm.

  Smoke erupted from Karax’s forehead where the bottle had broken. Rand pushed forward at that moment, the momentum knocking Karax off his feet while he screamed in agony.

  Rand dragged him back to center of the helipad, the whipping sounds of the chopper blades drowning all the cries of the demon.

  “Clear the helipad for landing!” Someone was dangling out the door of the helicopter, a megaphone up to their mouth. The chopper hovered in the air above them, stuck in limbo.

  Working on it, Rand thought.

  Rand threw Karax down onto his back in the center of the helipad. Rand’s bloody palm stained the front of the hospital gown. He picked up the crucifix and pressed it to Karax’s forehead. It burned and sizzled like the holy water.

  Rand brought his face close to Karax’s so the demon could hear him over the sound of the chopper blades. “In the name of the Lord Jesus Christ, I command you to leave the body of this girl!”

  Rand moved the cross to Karax’s chest and his body convulsed. “You have no place here anymore! Leave this girl’s body and never return. Karax, the Lord commands you by name to depart from this place.”

  Karax’s scream erupted like a volcano, a deafening shout that threatened to blow out Rand’s hearing. Every instinct of his wanted to curl into a ball on the ground and guard his ears from that horrible sound.

  But he stayed firm. Held the cross to Georgia’s chest. Watched as Karax threw his head back, eyes clenched, bellowing.

  It’s finally working.

  And then a black mass of smoke spewed from Georgia’s mouth, like a cloud of evil that seeped from her insides. It rose into the air, formless and dark, and then scattered as if a wind had carried it away.

  Rand knew that sight well. It meant victory. He’s gone.

  Georgia’s body lost all tension. The scaly skin sof
tened into pale flesh. Her white hair changed back to the blonde curls. Her face relaxed and became peaceful. The transformation reversed right in front of Rand’s eyes.

  Yes. Come back to us, Georgia.

  “Clear the helipad immediately!” the man shouted from above.

  In the final moments of his fight, Rand had completely forgotten they were about to be crushed by a landing helicopter. He scooped Georgia up, arms under her neck and knees, then carried her inside as the helicopter landed behind him, the powerful gusts threatening to topple him over.

  He placed her on the floor, where she opened her eyes and stirred awake.

  “Georgia?”

  “Where am I?” She blinked a few times and looked at him. It took a few moments before recognition dawned on her face. “Ghost Man?”

  Rand broke into a smile. “Yes. It’s me.”

  Georgia pushed herself to a sitting position, and Rand supported her back with his hand. She was weak and wobbly, but managed to find some strength.

  “How do you feel?” Rand asked.

  She assessed herself briefly, and then said, “I’m starving. I want a cheeseburger.”

  38

  Ten minutes later, Nick and Maria reunited with their daughter in the ICU. A quick assessment by Dr. Clarke and a team of nurses determined that nothing was wrong with Georgia. Her cystic fibrosis remained, but the coma had come and gone with no rational explanation. At least, not one that modern medicine could provide.

  Rand stood outside her hospital room and watched through the broken windows. The family sat together on Georgia’s bed. Rand knew from experience that Georgia would have no recollection of her possession. No one ever did. That, in itself, was a blessing.

  Maintenance crews had appeared to clean up the glass and plaster that covered the floor. A second team brought ladders to replace and repair the blown-out light fixtures overhead.

  Fiona Shaw oversaw the restoration, eyeing the patients as they passed her by, asking the maintenance men about the severity of the damage and how long it would take to fix. Once, she caught Rand’s gaze, and she nodded. Rand thought he saw just the hint of a smile on her thin, tight lips. And he figured that meant thank you. It was good enough for him.

  Rand slung his bag over his shoulder and walked toward the exit of the ICU, feeling like he was in the way as everyone around him worked to put the place back together. He considered stepping into room 316, but he stopped short and lingered on the threshold. The family huddled close, Nick and Maria sitting on Georgia’s bed, and they talked low amongst themselves. Maria cradled her daughter against her chest. None of them noticed him there. So, without saying a word, he left them to be with each other.

  He already knew the next twenty-four hours would be the hardest of anything so far—at least for him. It would be nothing but waiting. Karax was gone, but the demon’s original threat still remained. Seventeen days. The prediction could still come true. After everything, they could still lose Georgia to her disease.

  All Rand could do was pray and hope.

  In the hallway outside, Father Calvin leaned against the wall. His eyes were red, face fallen into despair.

  “You all right, Father?” Rand asked.

  Calvin only shook his head. “How do you do it? How do you face down evil like that over and over and feel nothing?”

  “I definitely feel something.”

  Calvin looked as if he didn’t believe him. Rand felt exhausted, hopeless, and empty, like he was on a treadmill that would never end. In a way, he was. Removing Karax from St. Mary’s was well and good, but there would always be another demon, another haunting, another victim. He supposed the feelings he had after every encounter were locked away deep inside him, a coping mechanism that kept him stoic and steadfast for the next battle. Because if he wasn’t there to be strong, who else would be?

  “Thank you for saving her,” Calvin said. “You did what I could not.”

  “I couldn’t have done it without you,” Rand said. The man’s prayers had helped rebuff the demon, keeping it from becoming so much worse.

  Calvin didn’t seem to believe that either. He looked like he needed a long vacation. Or maybe a stiff drink. Possibly both. “I hope to see you again, Rand. But I pray it will be under different circumstances.”

  Rand left him and went into the ICU visitor area, where Nick and Maria and the others had weathered the storm. It was empty except for Katie.

  She looked at him from the couch when he came in. “How is everyone?”

  “Happy. Like a family again.”

  “I’m sorry I never told you,” she said. “That wasn’t fair to you.”

  Rand sat next to her and set his bag by his feet. “It’s okay.”

  But he wasn’t sure he believed those words. Thoughts of a son came into his mind again. For so long, Libby had been his only family. But after knowing there had been the possibility for one more, the idea had latched onto him. Taken root and given him a desire he didn’t know he had.

  A second child.

  But it was a dream he could never claim. It would not be fair to expose another child to the life he lived.

  “I hate that thing for bringing it up,” Katie said. “I should have known it would.”

  Demons were not bound by time or place. They knew everything about everyone, and they would use it against you if they felt threatened.

  “I should leave,” Katie said.

  “I’ll bring you home.”

  “No. Your daughter and girlfriend are waiting for you in the hall. Go with them.”

  He found Libby and Rachel where Katie had said they would be, surrounded by maintenance men going in and out of the ICU with equipment and tools. They both wrapped him in a tight hug.

  “Are you okay?” Rachel asked. “I was so worried. Those horrible sounds coming from there…”

  “Everything is fine. It’s over.”

  “And Georgia?” Libby asked.

  “She’s back to normal.” Rand said.

  “Did you see it? The demon?”

  Rand put his arm around her daughter’s shoulder. “You know there’s no point in talking about it now.”

  Out of the corner of his eye, Rand spotted a man among the working maintenance crew. He stood out because he was standing still against the wall while all the others were moving around him. Rand got the feeling he was being watched, but couldn’t quite see the man’s face from the cap pulled low over his eyes.

  “Should we go now?” Rachel asked, breaking his concentration.

  “Yeah.”

  “Can I say bye to Georgia?” Libby asked.

  “She’s with her family. Leave them be for now.”

  They walked toward the door, but halted when Rand stopped short. “I forgot my bag. I’ll run and get it real quick.”

  Rand returned to the ICU visitor area. It was empty now—Katie had gone. He looked beside the couch where he knew he’d left his bag when he’d spoken with her, but it wasn’t there.

  Someone must have picked it up.

  The security station where the visitors signed in was unattended. He checked behind the desk to see if the guard had put it there, but it wasn’t there either.

  The elevator on the side of the waiting room dinged. The door slid open and no one was inside. However, Rand’s bag was propped against the wall of the elevator, as if placed there.

  What the hell?

  The doors should have closed long before then, but they remained open. It was the service elevator, so it was larger than a normal one—big enough to carry ladders, machines, and other equipment around the hospital. Rand figured it was being used by the repairmen in the ICU.

  He walked inside and to the far wall of the elevator, then snatched up his bag. As soon as he touched it, the elevator dinged again, and the doors began to close.

  Rand rushed to stick his hand between them so it would open again, but the door ignored him, sliding closed and threatening to crush him. He moved it out of the way just i
n time.

  He pressed the buttons on the control panel, but none of them responded. Next, he tried the red help button, but it did not light up or activate.

  Rand’s pulse quickened. He gripped the handle on his bag. I’ve taken the bait and fallen into a trap.

  He felt the hairs rise on the back of his neck. And he knew that whatever had brought him there was behind him.

  He turned. The man he’d spotted earlier among the maintenance crew had appeared out of thin air.

  But it was his face that stood out. He resembled a person, but his flesh seemed stretched too tight and was a light shade of blue. The eyes were small and completely filled with black.

  Randolph.

  He heard the demon’s voice in his head, communicating telepathically. His mouth did not move.

  And Rand knew who he was.

  “Shindael.”

  You are well known where I come from. The demon’s words were a whisper in Rand’s mind, almost soothing. But also threatening. You have met and bested many of my servants.

  Rand swallowed hard. “What do you want?”

  I want you. And I will have you.

  Shindael glared at Rand through his tiny black eyes. Rand wondered how many demons he’d faced in the past that had served Shindael directly.

  Deep down, he’d always known that the more powerful demons would eventually come for him. Rand figured casting Karax out of Georgia was the final straw, and now Shindael was here.

  I vow to torment you until the day you die. I vow to destroy your family. I vow to end your life. I will send all the angels of hell after you until both your body and soul are broken.

  Those words settled into Rand’s mind, and he knew he would never forget them. He also understood it was true. Shindael would keep his word.

  That declaration cemented the rest of his life as a never-ending battle with the demonic. Like a diagnosis of a terminal illness, it filled him with fear. Even regret—he’d played with fire too many times and had finally gotten burned. There was no going back. But Rand was determined to stay strong in the presence of his nemesis.

  “I guess I’ll be seeing you again,” he said.