Demonic

by Karl Morgan

He was panting for air and looking at the phone in his hand when his desk phone rang and he jumped from the surprise. He wondered if it was the same caller again and thought about not answering, but then picked up the receiver. “Bill Watson.”

  “Hi, honey, Sandi just picked me up from the airport. I made it safe.”

  “That’s great!”

  “Bill, you sound kind of odd. Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine. I just got a freaky prank call on my cell phone. It scared me a bit.”

  “Do you want to tell me about it?”

  “I’m sure it was nothing.”

  “Okay, if you’re sure. I’ll call you later, dear. Bye.”

  “Bye, sweetheart,” he finished and then set the receiver down.

  Chapter 2

  After work, Bill drove the ten miles to his home in Chula Vista, eager to be with his two small dogs, Chachis and Zelda. When he pulled into the driveway, the dogs began to whimper and yip, and he could hear them scampering down the stairs to greet him at the door. He unlocked and opened the door and the two dogs began to dance and twirl around his feet, anxious for company and a treat. They happily followed him into the kitchen where their determination was rewarded. After feeding them, Bill retrieved and opened a cold beer from the refrigerator, and then he sat on the couch in the family room and turned on the television in time to catch the evening news.

  As Chachis sat on his lap and Zelda settled behind his head on the seat cushion, a reporter began the top story about the headless bodies found on the Arizona border. His cellphone vibrated in his pocket and he withdrew it and noticed his boss was calling. He pressed pause on his remote and then clicked connect. “What’s up, Tom?”

  “Sorry to interrupt your evening, but I just got a call from Mary.”

  “Is something wrong?”

  “She called from the office parking lot. Apparently her car broke down there. She called AAA to tow it and get a ride home, but she’ll need a ride to work Monday morning. As it turns out, her apartment is only a couple of blocks from your house. Could you do that?”

  “Of course, I’m glad to help.”

  “Great, I knew you would. I gave her your cell number and said I’d call you and ask. She is kind of shy, don’t you think?”

  “It seems normal to me. She just started and met us so it’s early to be asking for favors, but I’m happy to do it.”

  “Do you have something to write on?”

  “Let me just open my note app on this phone.” He tapped a couple of keys to open it. “Okay, go ahead.”

  “Her cell is 555-9723. It’s the 619 area code. Just let her know, okay?”

  “I’ll call her in just a minute, Tom, but can I ask you a question first?”

  “Sure, go ahead.”

  “It just strikes me as odd that a new employee would want to start on a Friday. Was that her idea or yours?”

  “It was her idea, and I did think it a bit strange. But she said she was new in town and really wanted to get ahead of the game and even do some work over the weekend. Do you think it’s a big deal?”

  “No, not at all, I just thought it seemed unusual. Don’t worry about it.”

  “Okay, it’s over and done with now. Thanks for helping her out. Good night.” The line disconnected.

  Bill dialed her number and waited. After two rings, her voice said, “Hello?”

  “Hi, Mary, it’s me, Bill Watson. I just talked to Tom and I’d be happy to give you a ride to the office on Monday.”

  “Are your sure it’s not too much of an inconvenience?”

  “Not at all. Tom says I live only a few blocks from you.”

  “I live in the Sunbow Villas Apartments. Do you know where that is?”

  “Yes, I do. I’ll pick you up at about a quarter to eight on Monday, okay?”

  “I’ll meet you outside the gate then. Thanks a million. You’re a new friend, but a good one.”

  “Thanks for the kind words. And if you need anything over the weekend, just give me a call.”

  “That’s very sweet of you, Bill. Good night.” The line disconnected.

  He was about to start the program when he remembered the odd call he received earlier from the gravelly voiced stranger. “He said to do a favor for a new friend. Holy shit! How the heck did he know?” He realized he was making something out of nothing and pushed the thought out of his head and pressed the start button.

  Nothing on the news was any relief. It was confirmed that the bodies on the border were radioactive, although the source was unknown. There was another story about five Russian bombers that came within a few miles of the coast of the state of Washington. There had also been random shootings on US border stations on the Canadian and Mexican borders. International news was not any better. A column of Russian tanks and armored personnel carriers had crossed the border between Azerbaijan and Iran at the request of the Iranian government. ISIL units had moved into Western Iran over the last few days and were threatening several cities. The Turkish army had moved two divisions to their border region with the ISIL controlled areas of Iraq. ISIL had also taken credit for large terror bombings in Volgograd and Sevastopol in the Russian Republic.

  Fed up with the news, Bill switched channels to watch sit-com repeats. He sighed and took a sip of beer, happy for the cheerful entertainment. He had almost forgotten the bad news when a special alert interrupted all channels. The scene changed to the White House where the president was standing at a podium with a stern look on his face. “My fellow Americans, I must report that the international situation continues to deteriorate quickly. You may have heard tonight about headless bodies found on our southern border. These victims had been subjected to high levels of radioactivity, although the source of that contamination is not yet known. ISIL remains a growing threat to the world, and their new alliance with Al Qaeda is quite troubling. I want you to know that our government is on top of these threats and doing everything possible to protect our great country, but it is possible that terrorist activities will occur in the homeland. Some of you may have heard rumors about suitcase nuclear weapons being smuggled into the country. I want you assure you that is not true. I am today ordering our armed forces, primarily the National Guard, to increase border and coastal security. This is being done out of an abundance of caution and there is no direct, credible threat at this time.

  “I also want to challenge each of you to be aware of your situation at all times. If anything or person concerns you, it or they concern us as well. Tonight, we have implemented a new system using the telephone number 211 to report any such potential risks to authorities without overburdening the existing 911 system. All of our security depends on each of us doing our part, and I know I can count on you.”

  The president smiled broadly, “Finally, I just want to reassure all of you that there is no direct evidence of a specific threat. I understand my tone may seem ominous, but the fact of the matter is I believe this too will pass. Once the level of terror chatter declines and villains like Al Qaeda and ISIL are brought to justice, I can foresee a day when life will be normal again. Good night, and may God continue to bless the United States of America.”

  Bill turned off the television and gasped for breath. He was lost in the depths of the threats the president had just spoken about. His cell phone vibrated and he looked at the caller ID, and then pressed connect. “Hi, honey, I guess you saw that too.”

  His wife replied, “Bill, what are you talking about?”

  “You didn’t just hear the president’s speech?”

  “No, what did he say?”

  “Things sound serious right now, but I believe him when he said things are going to get better. I’m sorry if I scared you. Why did you call?”

  “Bill, a sheriff’s deputy was just here. They are evacuating this town. It’s something about a battle between a local right-wing militia and some terrorists who came across the Canadian border.”

  “What? I don’t understand.”

  “Her
e, talk to Tommy. He’s the one who spoke with the deputy.”

  There was silence on the line for several seconds and then his son-in-law’s voice said, “Hi, Dad, sorry to call you about this. Apparently, several hundred terrorists crossed the border from Canada early this morning. The sheriff believes they were going to set up a training camp not far from here. They didn’t know that the America First militia owns a lot of land nearby. When they met, all hell broke loose. The National Guard has been called and they are going to help the militia defeat the terrorists. The whole thing is twenty miles from here, but our whole neighborhood is being evacuated to Billings. We’ll call you when we get settled in a hotel, okay?”

  “Okay, I understand, Tom. Please take good care of our family.”

  “Will do, Dad. Talk to you soon.” Just before the line went dead, Bill thought he could hear rapid gunfire on the line. Bill redialed the number five times, but there was no answer. On the sixth try, a computerized voice said all lines were down and to try later.

  Bill stood and began to pace back and forth, wondering what to do. It would take days to drive to Montana. No flights left Lindbergh Field this late at night. He thought about looking for a flight online, and oddly, the thought of Mary waiting for him Monday crossed his mind. “She’ll get over it!” he exclaimed. Chachis and Zelda watched him carefully. He could feel his blood pressure rising and he began to pant for air. He picked up his beer and took a long drink. Chachis was begging to be picked up, so he complied and smiled when she began to lick his face. His heart rate slowed and he sat down, ready to check air fares when his phone rang again. He pressed connect without bothering to see who was calling. “Yea?”

  “Bill, it’s me,” Audrey said. “I saw you were trying to call back. We’re okay.”

  “I . . . I . . . I thought I heard gunfire when Tom hung up.”

  “It was some stupid kid across the street with firecrackers. We are fine. It will take an hour or so to get to the hotel, so please just relax.”

  A few tears leaked out of his eyes and he wiped them away. “I’m fine, honey. I was just so scared by the sound and then you didn’t answer.”

  “I know and I’m sorry, but the network must have been overloaded or something. My phone didn’t ring at all, and then I saw that you’d called.”

  “Just call me when you are settled in for the night, okay?”

  “Of course, sweetheart.”

  “How is it going with the kids?”

  “I can’t really talk about that right now, but everything is going to be fine. While there’s love, there’s hope, right?”

  “Thank you, Audrey.”

  “I’ll talk to you later, Bill. Bye.” The line disconnected.

  Bill went to the kitchen and prepared a whisky over ice for himself and brought two treats for his beloved dogs. He sat down, took a sip, and looked for something funny to watch.

  It was eleven o’clock and Bill Watson was asleep on the couch with his dogs doing their best to keep him warm. The television was playing reruns of some old television program from the seventies, but Bill was somewhere else in his dream. He was walking down a path between rows of gnarled trees that hung over his head like doom. He followed the twisting path until he came upon a small clearing where his path split into two. He stood at the crossroads and wondered which path to take. On the path to his left, he saw Chachis standing and wagging her tail. To the right, Zelda was jumping about on her hind legs, enticing him to follow her. He glanced behind himself and saw the path he had taken was cloaked in impenetrable fog. Directly in front, he saw a stone bench on the side of the path. An old man was sitting on the bench looking directly at him. When Bill looked at him, the old man smiled and motioned for him to join him on the bench. Bill walked over and sat down. He looked at the old man and noticed his deeply wrinkled face and eyes that were as black as coal. The man put his hand on Bill’s knee. The hand was twisted with arthritis. He spoke in a deep, gravelly voice, “Thank you, Bill.”

  “For what, sir?”

  “You have offered to help my darling child, Merihem. Unfortunately, the schedule must be accelerated.”

  “Who exactly are you, sir?”

  “That isn’t important right now, Bill.”

  “Okay, what am I supposed to call you, old man?”

  “You can call me Lou. That is close enough to my real name. Or if you prefer, you can call me dad.”

  “I’m your son?”

  “You were adopted, right?”

  “What’s your point?”

  “Answer my question, Bill Watson!”

  “Okay, I am adopted and I don’t know who my biological parents are. Are you saying you are my biological father?”

  “Yes, and Merihem is your sister. Please treat her so and you will both survive the horror that is coming.”

  Bill looked at the old man and wondered if what he was saying was true. “What horror are you talking about?”

  “The world is on fire, my son. Whether you or I like it or not, the chalice has been handed to you to save the world.”

  “I’m just an accountant at a small company. How am I supposed to save the world?”

  The old man moved forward and kissed his cheek. He smiled sweetly and replied, “You are about to find out, my boy. Be brave and save us all.”

  That vision melted away and now he was back in his bed. He felt his wife’s body pressed against him. His arms were wrapped around her and he nuzzled her neck. She rolled over to face him and was now Mary Stewart. She grabbed his head in her hands and pressed her lips to his. Instead of pushing her away, he gave into his passion and kissed her face and moved his hands over her willing body. She reached her hand down between his legs and he moaned softly.

  Instantly, he was kneeling on the ground. His hands were tied behind his back and he wore an orange, collarless jumpsuit. Several men in black watched from a few feet away, and one was recording the scene on a video camera. There was a person standing by his side with one hand on his shoulder. The man’s other hand flashed in front of him, holding a long knife. The knife suddenly plunged into his neck and he felt the searing pain. He was gagging and choking on his own blood.

  He sat up on the couch, soaked in sweat and gasping for breath. The two dogs were sitting nearby looking at him carefully. He reached down and petted both, and then got up to relieve himself and splash water on his face. After going upstairs to the bedroom, he looked at his phone and saw it was two o’clock in the morning. He climbed in bed and rolled onto his side, hoping for a bit more rest. Minutes later, he was fast asleep.

  In his dream, Bill was driving east on Interstate 90, a few miles west of Billings, Montana. He reached the top of a small rise and slammed down on the brakes. Hundreds of cars were headed toward him, filling both sides of the highway. He turned the steering wheel hard to the left and the car careened into the median and came to a stop. His heart was pounding and hands were sweaty and shaking. “What happened?” said a voice to his right. He turned his head to see Mary Stewart sitting in the passenger seat.

  A brilliant flash from behind them bathed the area in bright light. Bill looked in the rear-view mirror to see a giant fireball rising into the air over Billings. “I think a nuke just went off,” he replied just as the pressure wave pushed his car and the others ahead at high speed. Then the searing heat engulfed them. His skin felt like it was on fire and he watched the plastic dash begin to melt. Then the gas tank exploded. Bill knew they were all dead, but somehow he could hear sirens. Did he survive somehow, he wondered. There was a loud honking sound that woke him from his dream, although he was uncertain if he was really awake. The dogs began to howl and bark. Bill jumped out of bed and hurried to the front bedroom. Two police cars sat in the middle of the street. An officer got out of the lead vehicle and held a megaphone in his hand.

  “This is not a drill!” he shouted. “By order of the President of the United States, this city must be evacuated immediately. There is a high threat of an impendi
ng attack on San Diego. You have twenty minutes to pack enough for a week away. Then you are to follow the emergency vehicles toward Interstate 8 and out of the city. Repeat, this is not a drill. More officers will be here soon to offer assistance. God help us all.” He climbed back in his car and the two squad cars drove a block away and continued making the same speech.

  Bill’s cell phone rang. He grabbed it and pressed connect. Before he could speak, Mary said, “Oh God, Bill, what are we going to do?”

  “Mary, please try to stay calm. Throw some stuff in a bag and I’ll meet you in twenty minutes at the corner with Medical Center Drive, okay?”

  “Do you think this is really happening?”

  “I hope I wake in my bed in the morning and this was all a nightmare, but for now, pack and meet me there. If you have any non-perishable food or bottled water, bring it too. I’ll see you in twenty.” He disconnected the call and ran downstairs to find a suitcase. When he came back upstairs, he began shoving clothes into the bag as fast as he could. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Chachis lying coiled up and shivering. He picked her up and held her to him. After a moment, she began to lick his face. “It will be okay.” He petted Zelda with his free hand. “We’ll all get through this together.”

  Ten minutes later, he went to the bathroom again, and then made certain the dogs did their business in the backyard before loading the clothes, some food, and the dogs inside his car. He rushed back into the house and grabbed a large bag of dog food, the treats, and two cases of water that were in the garage. He stood on the driveway looking at his house, wondering if he would ever see this place again. A car horn sounded and he turned to see his neighbor Jeff and his wife in their car in the middle of the street. “This is pretty crazy shit, isn’t it, Bill?”

  “I still can’t believe it. Take care of yourselves.”

  “You too.” Their car moved up the hill and around the corner.

  A police cruiser turned the corner at the bottom of the hill with its lights flashing. It stopped near where he was standing and the driver’s window opened. The officer said, “Is your house clear, sir?”