Severed

by Corey Brown

  There, on a sulfur moon, he’d overheard a conversation between a few servants of the demonic lord called Paymon. The three talked excitedly about Malveaux and how Abaddon was hard at work. The news had surprised T’biah, believing that he’d killed Remy along with the others.

  After dispatching the little beasts, Paymon would be short a few followers, T’biah made his way back to earth and tracked down Remy Malveaux. It was then T’biah learned that Remy had raped Celine and what that meant about David, it was then he’d found out what had become of Malveaux.

  In a midnight rainstorm, as lightning raked the sky, T’biah had dropped to his knees beneath the Interstate 10 overpass, near the Superdome. Soaking wet, humiliated and bitter, T’biah wept.

  “I had always assumed the same thing,” T’biah says, quietly. “But now that I think about it, Remy couldn’t have known.”

  “Why then?” David says. “Why did he do it?”

  T’biah frowns, looks at David, turns away, thinking. He looks back, wants to say something, waits. “Maybe I have it backwards,” T’biah says, as much to himself as to David.

  “Have what backwards?”

  T’biah takes a breath. “I always thought that because of me, Remy took Celine out of pure rage in some twisted act of revenge. I mean, I thought he took Celine and the Dark One simply capitalized on an event. But maybe violating her was the idea all along, the real beginning.”

  David shakes his head, saying. “I’m not following. What idea?”

  T’biah points at the crucifix and says, “Human and deity, in a single form. Who was Jesus? God and man in one body. The Destroyer wanted to go beyond simple possession, he wanted more than just souls. He wanted to create his own version of Jesus, someone who was fully human and fully demon. I’ve always known that’s what he’d been using you for, but that must have been why Remy raped my poor Celine.”

  T’biah pauses, staring blankly at the rows of pews. When he spoke again it was more for his own benefit. “If I hadn’t made love to Celine, The Destroyer would have succeeded on the first try. You would not have been three. You would’ve been only two, just human and demon.”

  The two just stare at each other, the idea sinking in, sinking in hard. David is still standing next to the altar, beneath the large crucifix. Thirty feet away T’biah stands in the center aisle, Cody at his elbow sitting in a pew.

  “Wait,” Cody says, his voice is deliberate. He tries not to stretch his words, tries not to sound like an idiot. “Wh--” He swallows. “What the hell are you talking about?”

  Ignoring Cody, David says to T'biah, “From the beginning, you thought your sin had caused all of this?”

  T’biah slowly nods.

  “But Remy never intended to let my mother live,” David says, his voice growing husky. “And it was your love for Celine that sabotaged his intentions. It was your love that saved me.”

  An intense look flashes over David’s face. His body, his presence, takes on an edge as if some transformation is occurring. A kind of ripple centers on David then rings out, spreading away. It is like the air around him was liquid and someone had tossed a pebble at his chest. And in that same moment his body shimmers, like heat coming off an asphalt road, he turns grainy then becomes sharp again. And the transformation is complete.

  Now, David is no longer in his blue hospital sweats. Instead, he is wearing a gunmetal gray leather coat that reaches the floor. Black plastic guards cover his shins, knees and elbows. The color of his shirt and pants match his coat, gray on gray on gray, but on his feet are red and white hi-tops, Keds.

  “I’m heading out,” David says, his voice more growl than anything. “Gotta get my sister.”

  T’biah looks at him, pride welling up. “Weapons?”

  David hesitates then snaps open his trench coat. Cody can scarcely believe his eyes. Tucked into pouches and pockets, hanging from loops and straps are knives, chains, a MAC-10, a long bow, an axe, a sword, mace---- both the spray bottles and one on a chain---- three sets of steel knuckles, a Taser, and even a Colt 45 revolver that has to be a hundred years old.

  There are more weapons, but David flaps the coat shut before Cody can identify them. Eyes and mouth open wide, Cody continues to stare. How in the hell…?

  “Good,” T’biah says. “I’ll catch up as soon as I can.” He points at David and says, “Think clearly. Be careful of your twin, he’s a hard one. I guarantee Satan is watching, keeping him. And remember the Yaw, stay clear of it.”

  David nods, clasps his hands at the small of his back and closes his eyes. Once more, the air in front of David’s chest seems to dimple and concentric circles suddenly appear. This time the ripple is much larger and seems to fan out to the edges of the sanctuary. Once more, David’s body seems to glow or sparkle then turn grainy, only this time he doesn’t become clear again. This time he disappears.

  Chapter 34

  There is a grinding, whooshing sound and his skin feels tender, not quite raw, but like he has been worked over with fine gritted sandpaper. I need to slow this down, David thinks. I can’t see anything moving this fast.

  In reverse of his rippled exit back at the Saint Louis Cathedral in New Orleans, the atmosphere ahead of him rolls inward, not out; the circles move toward the center, become smaller, become dimples, disappear.

  At first, David remains motionless, hands still clasped at his back. He takes a silent breath and a slow look around, knowing exactly where he is without ever having been here. It is not as though he’s received any kind of brain dump but David knows things. Such as, he knows this is the smallest of three planets at the edge of a ghost galaxy some two million light years beyond Stephan’s Quintet.

  Standing next to a wet, triangular structure, David watches as a tall, lanky creature pads about the courtyard, tending to a trough of vegetables. Humidity hangs like mist, but the air is cool and, except for the soft shuffling of the mossy creature working his garden, there is hush to the countryside. The eye in the back of the creature’s moist head blinks then he turns to face David.

  “So, you’re the new Regulator?”

  David shrugs. He hears English, but knows the mossy guy isn’t speaking anything like English.

  “I guess,” David says.

  “You need to work on your stealth,” the creature says. It studies David then says, “He was here. Both of them were here.”

  “How long ago?”

  “You’re close. Go get the bastard.”

  But David already knows. He can smell them, especially Suzanne, her sweet sister-like aroma leaving an unmistakable trail. He inhales deeply and turns his head in the direction of her scent. The dimple forms, the atmosphere ripples and he hears the grinding sound approaching. David is on the move again.

  «»

  Oddly aware she is falling, Suzanne braces for impact. But in spite of her attempt to be prepared, Suzanne lands hard, momentum pitching her headlong and she falls to the ground, skids across the grass. She groans as tiny needles of pain stab at the abrasions on her palms and one knee.

  After a moment of damage assessment, Suzanne glances around, tries to figure out where she is and how long she has been unconscious. She remembers parts of her abduction, there are moments of clarity but they are like flashbulbs popping in a black hole; seconds of recollections against an enormous vacuum of memories. Not much more than meaningless mental chatter.

  Suzanne takes in a deep breath, struggles to remain calm. It feels like early morning, like the sun is just about to rise and in the semi-darkness Suzanne can tell they are surrounded by a thick tangle of trees and bushes. A few feet away, stacked in a vaguely ordered way, almost like a grave marker, is a pile of brilliant white stones. Beyond the stones Suzanne sees what looks like a rocky outcropping, an overhang of some sort. To her right, a stream of muted light wends its way along a valley floor. Overhead, a cool whisper of wind rustles the treetops. Am I in the mountains? She wonders. Idaho?

  Rising to her hands and knees, Suzanne t
ries to get up. But a foot, the twin’s foot, lands on her buttocks and shoves her.

  “Stay down, bitch,” the twin says. “We may have found the right place.”

  “Why are you doing this?” Suzanne’s voice trembles, she bites her lip trying not to cry. “What do you want from me?”

  The twin chuckles. “Come on, baby, the only thing you’re good for. Pussy, what else? I need to make more of me, lots more. Now shut up, I need to listen.”

  Silently, Suzanne begins to pray.

  The twin kicks her, not too hard but hard enough. “I said shut up. We’ll have none of that. See, I don’t give a shit if you scream to your god. It won’t help you any. He doesn’t hear or care. But it messes up my concentration, so shut your hole.”

  The twin closes his eyes, drawing a slow, deliberate breath.

  After a few moments, or maybe a lifetime, Suzanne can’t tell, the twin opens his eyes and says, “This place will do, I think we’ve lost him.”

  Suzanne turns her head to look at the twin. He likes this view. She’s on her belly, looking back.

  “You’ve lost who?” Suzanne says.

  Still imagining all the things he will do to her, the twin smiles wickedly. “Your dickweed brother. Wouldn’t want him walking in on us, would we?”

  “I don’t understand,” Suzanne says.

  “Never mind, forget I said anything. Come on, let’s have at it, I’m ready to do you.”

  «»

  The only sounds inside Saint Louis Cathedral are footsteps. Cody is shaking his head, walking up the center aisle being careful to avoid the puddle of congealing vomit he deposited a little while ago. He walks to the back of the sanctuary, chunks of plaster and pieces of rock from the twin’s grand entrance crunch beneath his shoes.

  His head is pounding with the mother of all headaches. He still feels unsteady, a little disoriented, a little queasy. Not like he’s going to vomit again but more like the day after a serious drunk, like bits and pieces of the night before are swirling around in his brain. Like some of the pieces are missing for good. And that buzzing beneath his skin, it’s not quite there and not quite gone, but Cody knows he will never be completely rid of it.

  Cody squats to pick up a piece of stone. He turns it over in his hand, stares at it. He wonders why he can’t hear city life outside. He looks at the gaping wound in the Church’s exterior that was once the front door. Why can’t he hear street sounds? And where are the cops, for chrissakes? Someone should have heard the door exploding off its hinges. Someone should have called the police. Cody stands, pivots his wrist and opens his hand. The stone drops to the floor, making a dry thud.

  “You know,” Cody says. “Just when I get it figured out, just when I get a hold of this thing, someone comes along and chops off my hand. You want to tell me what’s going on? Where the hell did David go and what was all that talk about Remy Malveaux and demons?”

  “Look, we just don’t have time,” T’biah says. “We have to….” he hesitates, frowning, and looks hard at Cody. T'biah looks at Cody and realizes there really is not time, at least not for Cody. If Cody doesn’t hear it now he may never know. This brings on a new swell of sadness. If only, T’biah thinks, if only I had anticipated things more carefully.

  “Okay,” T’biah says, waving Cody closer. “I’ll explain everything.

  When Cody is a few yards from where T’biah is standing, T’biah holds up his hand. “Wait,” he says. “We need to slow it down, we need some extra time. Do you remember how to slide?”

  Cody gives him a look and says, “Slide?”

  “Move over, you know, slide into the next reality. Like you did on Chartres Street, remember?”

  “What? Like I did on…” Cody thinks about it, confusion gives way to a look of comprehension. Oh yeah, Chartres Street. He remembers streaks of light, drooping sounds, and dull, monaural conversations. All mixed with memories of a woman in sackcloth handing over a gun, his gun, his weapon. Cody stares at T’biah.

  Just how, Cody is not sure, but hell yes he remembers how to slide.

  T’biah smiles and says, “We’ve come a long way since that apartment building over on Dauphine. Two days ago I never would’ve guessed you could do it.”

  Cody shakes his head, and his eyes take on a new clarity. “I still don’t understand how it works,” he says. “By the way, thanks again for saving Jamie. I can’t tell you how much that means to me.” He looks away, draws a finger across his lower lip. There is a lot on his mind, so many questions, but thoughts of Jamie seem to muscle their way to the front of the line.

  “You talk about choosing God,” Cody says. “And how you’ll never forget that day, that’s what it’s like for me with Jamie. I’ll never forget the day she chose me, that was a moment beyond description. For me, she is life, she is my religion. But with everything that’s happened…” Cody shakes his head. “Jamie doesn’t know what to think. I’m afraid I’ve lost her.”

  T’biah’s smile turns sad. “I know,” he says, “she is struggling, but she loves you with all her heart. That will be enough.”

  “How do you know?”

  “Never underestimate the power of real love.” T’biah draws in a sharp breath, stifling his emotions. “In the end, it transcends everything.”

  In the end… Those three words jar a memory in Cody. In the end… he hears them, thinks about them, connects them to the apartment building on Dauphine.

  “You said something else to me,” Cody says. “Back on Dauphine, after you’d chased off Eric Hansen, you told me in the end I would need faith. What did you mean by that?”

  “Just that. You need faith in the Master, faith from the Master, to get through this.”

  “Why faith? Why not, in the end, real love?”

  T’biah shrugs. “Can you distinguish between the two? Real love, true faith, what’s the difference? When you share real love with someone, don’t you have faith in him or her? Faith is to believe in their love for you. Isn’t real love the emotional expression of something spiritual? That is to say, faith.”

  Cody looks hard at T’biah. This is not the first time he has thought T’biah was full of shit. But he has been wrong every time.

  Cody moistens his lips, thinks about Jamie and says, “I hope you’re right.”

  “I am,” T’biah says. “Ready?”

  “You better be right.”

  “Ready?”

  At the same moment, they each take one half-step forward. Cody feels a reverberation, a distant roar like the ocean at dawn. He sees the sanctuary lights bleed, stretch out then he sees nothing. At first, Cody has a sense of isolation, but it isn’t like being alone, it is more like being separate, like splitting away.

  A few feet away there is an image, grainy-silver at first, then becoming clear. It is T’biah. Trickles of light seem to leak away from him. Also catching Cody’s attention are the street sounds that only moments ago were strangely absent. He can hear the cars on Decatur across Jackson Square, the din of partiers over on Saint Peter Street. But just as before, the sounds seem like a little seven-inch forty-five rpm played at thirty-three and a third, all droopy and splayed.

  “I don’t understand,” Cody says, trying to make sense of it. He points at nothing particular and looks around. “Why do buildings, things like that, remain the same? But people disappear.”

  “Sliding,” T’biah says, “applies only to living beings or that which is directly in use by living beings, like cars or airplanes, or the collar on a dog. Stationary, permanent objects are not really affected. When you slide you are merely shifting realities. It’s kind of like many different electrical signals running through the same wire. The signals move past each other, even through each other as if there were no other electrical impulses. But the wire itself remains unchanged. The physical properties of the universe are not greatly altered in a slide. Now, free jumping is another story. That’s what David did, he free jumped, and by now he’s probably in another galaxy, maybe a complete
ly different dimension.”

  “But when I was sliding on Chartres Street,” Cody says. “Things on earth seemed to speed up, it was like I was going slower. How will this help us? It seems to me that we’re losing time.”

  “It depends on the slide. A slide can move you ahead or hold you back. The right slide puts you outside of time and motion all together. So you can slide back at any point you choose.”

  Cody thinks it over, his gaze wandering about the floor or whatever it is they are standing on. “We’ve moved ahead, haven’t we? We’re ahead of time on earth, right?”

  “Uh-huh,” T’biah says, nodding

  “But how do you choose a slide?

  T’biah shrugs. “I know how I choose,” he says. “But this time I followed your lead, I matched your slide. I have no idea how you decide which slide to make. To be honest, I’m troubled by the fact you can do it at all, let alone choose one. I’ve never seen a living human slide.”

  “Interesting,” Cody says then frowns, wonders if there might be a hidden meaning in what T’biah has said. A worried look comes over his face. “Are you saying I’m not alive? I mean, Jesus, after what that thing did to me, what’s it called, the Yaw? After what the Yaw did to me, I have no idea what’s real and what isn’t. Am I dead?”

  T’biah chuckles but catches himself. It’s not really funny. “No, you’re not dead,” he says. “You should be dead, but you’re very much alive. But…” He lets the words hang, not sure where to go from here.

  “But what?” Cody says, stepping closer.

  Apprehension fills T’biah’s eyes. “Listen, Cody, about that. You may not have much of a life when all of this is finished. I don’t know, I can’t be sure because no human has ever suffered the Yaw, not that I know of. Please believe me, I never intended for that to happen.”