Nether

by Jason Beymer

  Max started to stand. “I don’t have to—”

  “Sit the fuck down!” she screamed. Lorraine scooted out of the seat. She had to get away from him, away from his vacant blue eyes.

  Lorraine’s lower half bulged in the blue jeans while her hair became a mixture of red and black weeds. As she barreled toward the exit, she pressed the talk button and whispered, “I’m scared, Garrick.”

  “Why?” the old man said.

  Lorraine watched the demon. The boy slid his index finger through the blueberry pie again and licked it. “Do you really need to ask me that?”

  “Listen,” Garrick said. “Max’s mother should call him any minute.”

  “She just called. Max talked to her.”

  “Good. I told the senator to make him get in the car with you. He shouldn’t be a problem now.”

  “You want me to get in the car and do what?”

  “Drive to Burklin’s mother’s house.”

  “Hold on.” She turned to Max. “You stay in that booth.”

  Max shrugged. Whipped cream surrounded his mouth.

  Lorraine pushed open the door and escaped into the chilly parking lot, where her breath rose on the cold air. She pulled a pack of cigarettes from her pocket. “Okay, now we can talk.”

  “Did you walk out of Hoppy’s?” Garrick asked.

  “I didn’t walk. I ran.” She stuck a cigarette between her teeth and attempted to light it. “Is there something you’re not telling me?”

  “That’s an open-ended question. Can you be more specific, love?”

  “My enchantments aren’t working on him. I keep pouring them on, but he’s not gushing over me the way other men do.” The wind kicked up and extinguished the lighter’s flame.

  “I should have mentioned that possibility.”

  “You knew my shapeshifting wouldn’t work?”

  “I … suspected. What can I say, darling? The boy comes from the Nether. He may be impervious to your charms.”

  “I can’t believe you would—”

  “Trust me.”

  She flicked the lighter, but no spark came. “You made me come back here. Here! I’m not just risking death by talking to the demon. You know the memories I have of this place.”

  “Oh,” Garrick said, drawing out the vowel. “You’re referring to the procedure.”

  “Yes.” She clenched her teeth. “It’s bad enough I have to throw dead bodies into the Dumpster behind this shithole. But walking around inside it? Didn’t you know this would upset me?”

  “I suppose I do now, but I must have forgotten.”

  “You fucking forgot?”

  “My darling, you are a different person than the one I took into Hoppy’s basement. That woman was weak, insecure, suicidal. Look at all I’ve given you. Confidence, self-esteem, and Burklin.”

  “Yes.” She closed her eyes. “Then you took them away.”

  “I don’t like the direction this conversation is veering. Did you talk to Max, or not?”

  Lorraine looked at the diner’s black windows. “He didn’t say anything worthwhile, just something about chasing the Asian woman through the house.”

  “Anything else?”

  “I guess she showed up at his house carrying a bag.”

  “A bag?” Garrick’s tone changed. “What kind of bag? Where is it now?”

  “Why do you care?”

  “Ask him.”

  “I don’t like this. You promised to never hurt us as long as we obeyed.”

  “Ask!”

  “Okay,” she said, her pulse racing. “Hold on.”

  Lorraine gave up on the lighter and set the phone against her hip. She opened the door and returned to the puke-green foyer.

  “—ever look at me like that again!”

  “Max!” Lorraine shouted.

  Max sat on top of the cook, straddling and stabbing him like a butcher bleeding out a slippery pig. The other employee slouched over the pick-up window, a steak knife in his throat. The demon turned, mouth forming a perfect O. “Um,” he said. “They were going to call the cops?”

  Lorraine swallowed hard. “Garrick,” she said into the phone. “I’m looking at Max right now.”

  “And?”

  “Max just killed both employees at Hoppy’s Diner. Why didn’t you have a vision of this? Or did you forget to tell me?”

  Silence, then, “I must have missed that one. Ask him about the bag.”

  “Hold on.” She looked up and said timidly, “Hey, Max?”

  “Huh?”

  “Do you remember anything about the bag the Asian woman carried? Like, where it might be now?”

  “I guess it’s still behind the couch. I threw it back there after I looked inside it.”

  “You did? What did you see?”

  “Pictures. Lots of pictures. Saw your fat ass in a whole bunch of them, and some homeless douche holding a wiener dog. Oh, yeah, and before I played stabby-stabby with her, she told me …” He shook his head. “She told me she would kill some dude named Garrick because he … um, set her up?”

  Lorraine put the phone back to her ear and said, “Did you get all that? The bag is still at Max’s.”

  Silence.

  “Garrick?” Lorraine shook the phone. “Are you there?”

  “We can’t worry about the bag right now,” he said finally. “The priority is still the dead woman. Get to Delores’s house. I believe that’s where he took it.”

  “To Burklin’s mother’s house? You want me to drive there?”

  Why did Garrick want this dead body so much?

  “Stop hesitating, dear,” Garrick said. “If you do this one thing for me you’ll never have to enter Hoppy’s again. I’ll give you a bubble bath and a nice massage. Stay focused on the sweepstakes, dear. You can have a country right next to Burklin’s. I’ll even fashion you an army. The two of you can have holy wars for the rest of eternity. Wouldn’t you enjoy that?”

  Lorraine bit the inside of her cheek. “What am I supposed to do once I have the body?”

  Garrick hesitated, then, “I’m not sure yet. I’m near the house so I’ll meet you there. In the meantime, bring Max along. Just … make sure he waits in the car. I don’t want him coming anywhere near me.”

  “What about the dead employees?”

  “Leave them. Lock the front door and drop the blinds. Take care of them later.”

  “But there’s a dead sheriff in the field, and the sun is coming up.”

  “God damn it, Lorraine! Get to the house.”

  Lorraine bit at her finger. “Well, maybe,” she said, thinking fast. “Maybe you should give Burklin back his soul. That’s all he wants, right? Give it back to him and he’ll stop fighting. He’ll probably hand the corpse over to you.”

  Garrick groaned. “I warned you never to bring up Burklin’s soul. If I give it back to him, the two of you will kill me and abandon your jobs.”

  “No, we won’t. Nothing will change. I swear. I—”

  Garrick hung up.

  Lorraine punched the wall. Her fist broke through the moldy plaster.

  Max stood next to the cash register, wrestling with a sack of potato chips. His forehead wrinkled in concentration as he tried to rip open the bag. Between grunts, he said, “Killing makes me hungry.”

  “So eat,” Lorraine replied. For a demon so exceptional at opening human beings, he was lousy with vacuum-sealed sundries.

  Max ripped open the bag with a bloody butcher knife. “What are you looking at?” He shoveled the chips into his mouth and chewed like a lazy cow. “So you’re my guardian angel, huh? Big fat bitch getting rid of all the dumbasses I kill. Hey, if I murder you, will I get your powers and stuff? Will I be able to fly?”

  “No.” It seemed the safest answer.

  Lorraine wondered how much time she had left, or if her aura switch had even tripped. The more time that passed, the more the Fucked Bubble thing seemed untrue.

  She’d once asked Garrick if getting too close
to Max would kill him, too. He’d replied, “Oh, my fate would be much, much worse than yours. My blood gives me a direct link to the demon. I don’t have an aura to switch on or off. I just … die. Exposure to the little monster for more than a few minutes will cause a brain aneurysm. Something about the polarity of our blood types.”

  Lorraine dropped the blinds in the window. As they closed, she peered through the slats for falling pianos or stray lightning bolts.

  “What are you doing?” Max asked.

  “Locking up,” she said. “Get in the car. We’re leaving.”

  Chapter 15

  Speed

  The Eiffel took the onramp to the 101 Freeway. Burklin checked the digital clock on the dashboard: 5:50. The sun peeked over the mountaintops. “Come on, you stupid car.” He slammed his palm against the dash. “Come on!”

  Burklin was a carriage driver whipping a horse with a noodle. The speedometer had yet to crack sixty. He merged onto the freeway at full gallop and pressed his foot hard against the pedal. If he slowed down, he might never get above fifty-five again.

  “Wow,” Pearl said. “You’re pushing this thing. I think I heard the bumper fly off.”

  Burklin jolted the car into the left lane and passed a motorcycle. He swung around an old lady in a pick-up truck. No traffic at this hour, but that wouldn’t last long.

  Several minutes later, Pearl scratched at the window. “Hey,” she said. “Isn’t that Black Beauty?”

  Burklin took his eyes off the few cars on the road and glanced in the direction of the dog’s scratching. Chrome caught the first rays of sunlight and the hubcaps glistened. His baby came speeding up behind him: a majestic wingless angel, a gliding mistress in silk lingerie, pixie dust on a cool—

  “Stop orgasming,” Pearl said. “Drive faster.”

  “Right.”

  His baby ripped into a motorcycle and knocked it over. The bike caught the bumper and launched the rider over the roof. It flipped on its side, then wedged beneath the car, sprinkling sparks over Black Beauty’s windshield.

  “How did Garrick get here so fast?” Burklin said. “I thought he was in his office.”

  “That’s not Garrick,” Pearl said.

  “Then who the hell is that?” Burklin saw the woman’s face behind the shower of sparks. “Lorraine? Hey, she’s got a passenger.”

  “She does?” Pearl stood on her hind legs. “Oh, snap! She does. Faster!”

  “I think this car tops out at fifty-five.” He gunned it anyway, hoping it might catch some lost, forgotten gear.

  Black Beauty swiveled to the next lane. The motorcycle emerged from underneath it and tumbled into the center divider. The dented chrome bumper crept up behind him.

  Burklin cranked the steering wheel and cut around a slow-moving van.

  “She’s trying to pass us,” Pearl said.

  “Who’s sitting in the passenger seat next to her? Oops, you’d better hang on to something.”

  Black Beauty crept up on the left, and Burklin swung over one lane. He put his car directly in front of it. In the rearview mirror, Lorraine screamed as she smashed against his back bumper. The impact threw Pearl off the seat and onto the floorboards.

  “Are you okay?” Burklin asked.

  “Yeah,” she said. “But I think I’ll cower down here if it’s all the same to you.”

  Black Beauty revved up and hit his bumper again. With the extra boost, the Eiffel broke sixty. He almost cheered.

  The pushing stopped and Black Beauty swerved into the far right lane.

  “Oh, no you don’t.” Burklin turned the steering wheel and blasted into Black Beauty’s side. Lorraine met the challenge and turned into the Eiffel, overpowering it. The two cars clashed with the sound of exploding metal. Unfortunately for Burklin, Black Beauty was an American Goliath to his French David. The Eiffel flailed into the left lane and separated from his baby.

  From the floorboards Pearl said, “You know, if that car gets in front of you …”

  “I know, I know.”

  Lorraine came up on a school bus much too fast. At the last second, she slammed on her brakes. Burklin turned the steering wheel toward her and collided with Black Beauty’s side door.

  Pearl clucked her tongue. “Must be hard on you. I know how much you love that car.”

  The Mack Daddy ringtone sounded from the floorboards. Pearl yelped.

  Burklin pointed at the cell. “That’s the one I found in the trunk while you went fooey-fooey. Guess I should have broken it when I had the chance, huh?”

  “You think it’s Garrick?”

  Burklin turned to look at Black Beauty. Lorraine held a phone to her ear, mouthing, “Pick it up, asshole!”

  “It’s not Garrick.”

  Black Beauty matched the Eiffel’s speed. Why didn’t the car accelerate and leave him in its dust? Had he somehow broken the stallion’s legs?

  Pearl pawed at the ringing phone. “Maybe you should pick it up.”

  “I don’t want to talk to Lorraine.”

  “Let me talk to her then,” Pearl said. “Which button do I press to answer it?”

  Burklin smiled. His ex-wife would hate him for this. He picked up the phone, set it on speaker, and tossed it on the floorboard next to Pearl.

  Lorraine’s voice filled the car. “Now you listen to me. Pull over.”

  “Hey,” Pearl said, “Hola. Hello. Hi.”

  Pause. “Who is this?”

  “Me. You can shapeshift, right? Can you turn into a well-hung Labrador? Just for two minutes?”

  “Oh, no you didn’t.” Lorraine slammed into the side of the Eiffel. “I am not having a conversation with your dog.”

  Pearl barked. “I thought you loved me.”

  “I never even wanted you. Burklin wanted a wiener dog. He thought a little cock-shaped canine might make him look less intimidating.”

  “Don’t get involved in this, Lorraine,” Burklin said. “This stays between me and Garrick.”

  “Wrong.”

  Burklin maneuvered around another motorcycle. “We’re done talking.”

  “I’ve got Max here with me.”

  “Who? That’s Max? Demon Max?” He got a better look at the passenger through the tinted windows. “You’re not supposed to make contact with him.”

  “Garrick told me to.”

  “Have you listened to a word I’ve said?”

  “I’ve got it covered. Garrick thinks the corpse is at your mother’s house. I’m meeting him there.”

  “But my mother hates you.”

  “I don’t plan to sit down for milk and cookies. I’m just retrieving the body.”

  “What are you going to do with it?”

  Lorraine’s voice softened. “I’m not sure yet.”

  “I can’t let you get there first. I’ve found a weakness in Garrick. The Asian woman is still alive.”

  Lorraine laughed. “Alive? Nice one. You and I both saw her dead body after Max mutilated her. Is this about something else? I bet you saw me fucking your father and you want revenge. Is that it?”

  “He’s not my father! Why does everyone keep saying that? Think. Garrick knows she’s still alive. I don’t know why he didn’t tell you that, but she is. Now Max is sitting in your passenger seat? This goes against everything he ever taught us. And you’re right inside the goddamn fuck bubble, Lorraine.”

  “Fucked Bubble,” she corrected.

  “Garrick said if either of us contacted Max we would die.”

  “Do I look dead? Pull the car over. I’ll meet with the old man and help him get rid of the corpse. We need to keep Garrick happy.”

  “Not happening.”

  Burklin could see the sign for his exit over the freeway. Almost there. Once they got off the freeway and hit the side streets, he could outmaneuver Lorraine. He knew this area better than she did.

  Burklin swerved into the right lane. He collided with Black Beauty and ground against it with such ferocity that it had to move. At the last minu
te before exiting, he gave the back wheel one more nudge, and stepped on the brakes. Lorraine looked back at him. A grinding sound erupted from her wheels.

  Black Beauty’s brakes locked too late and Lorraine lost control of the car. It nicked a crash cushion barrel on the off-ramp, and slammed head-on into a low concrete barrier. Lorraine’s head bashed against the steering wheel. The windshield shattered as an adolescent missile launched through the air. Max McPhee waved his arms once, then slapped against the concrete overpass wall with a resounding splat.

  Burklin slowed the Eiffel and parked on the off-ramp. The cellphone went silent. “Oh, no. No, no, no.”

  “Get going,” Pearl said. “Foot off the brake.”

  Burklin turned in his seat. “I can’t just leave her. Lorraine’s hurt.”

  “Garrick is probably on his way to your mother’s house right now.”

  “You don’t know that.”

  “I know what you know. Garrick wouldn’t leave anything to chance. You’re right. Something is different about this dead chick. The old man was willing to sacrifice both of you to get her to the Dumpster.”

  “But I—”

  “Garrick might already be at the house!” Pearl said anxiously. “If you rush to Lorraine’s rescue, you’ll expose yourself to Max and get your ass killed.”

  “I can save her.”

  “No, you can’t.” She lifted her head. “I hear sirens. Get going. Otherwise, the cops will detain you. And if Garrick gets to the Asian chick first, you’ll lose what little leverage you have left.”

  “Pearl, you told me not to disobey the old man.”

  “Yes. But now it’s too late. You’ve crossed the point of your usual ‘Burklin Puss-Out.’ If Lorraine and Max are dead there’s nothing left of the trinity to save. Get to your mother’s house and grab the girl. If you don’t, we’re both fucked.”

  As the car idled, Burklin stared into the rearview mirror. Smoke rose from Black Beauty’s crushed hood. Lorraine’s head lay still, burrowed into the steering wheel. Fluids leaked onto the asphalt like pooling blood. He wanted to abandon the Eiffel, rush toward Black Beauty, and pull Lorraine out. He wanted to save her and pick up where they’d left off before Garrick ripped out his soul. Still, deep down, he knew what he would do.