Brethren

by Shawn Ryan

  From the ruined stumps of its shoulders new arms sprang forth, great limbs ending in meaty paws, each paw tipped by knifelike claws that dug trenches in the ground beneath. Gray fur began to grow across the entire body, covering it in a heavy coat.

  Then the skull split. Once. Twice. Mutating until three wolflike heads yapped and growled on short, stumpy necks. A pair of silver eyes stared from each.

  Jason watched in awe. Yet he remained strangely calm and unafraid. The fire still jumped and danced inside him. He waited securely within its protection.

  Moloch grew, towering farther into the sky. The top of its shoulders was two stories tall, its head towered over the trees growing alongside the field From where he stood, Jason could feel the heat of the huge beast's breath, smell its gas-chamber stench.

  Then the center head spoke. Two words.

  "Die, Medlocke."

  Craning its necks backward, the beast began to howl, a cyclone of sound. The trees bent and swayed; some splintered under the deafening dirge. The clouds roared and tumbled, like combatants in a deadly battle. Rumbling shook the air. Wide branches of lightning burst from cloud to cloud, then centered on the middle of the storm, firing bolt after bolt into the maelstrom's heart.

  Where the lightning struck, a green glow appeared, a spinning vortex of light. It grew at a frightening clip, soon encompassing the entire storm. As it completely swallowed its birthplace, another hole tore open at its center. Orange, burning light spilled forth and a forbidding landscape appeared in its core. A gray, barren land of dense, cloudy skies and a line of fire hundreds of miles long on its horizon. Reptilian birds flew across its sky. Wind blew out of the land and across the field, a frigid, inhuman wind with no remorse. One of the lizard-birds soared out of the storm on the chilling wind and into the sky above Jason's head. Its screech brought him out of his amazement and he understood.

  It was Moloch's world.

  And it was bringing it here.

  And still Moloch howled.

  Summoning all his power, Jason concentrated on the approaching world. As the opening drew closer, he turned the golden aura away from him, toward the green-tinged storm. The forces of gold and green met with a deafening explosion. For a moment the storm stopped its descent. The golden aura held its ground.

  But it wasn't strong enough. The oncoming world was too powerful, inexorably it pushed forward. Jason couldn't stop it.

  But if he couldn't stop the storm, perhaps he could close its conduit.

  He turned toward Moloch. The three-headed beast still howled, Cerberus calling its world to take command of this new, virgin territory.

  No!

  Shimmering explosions of light burst from Jason's hands. Like the sword of judgment, they sliced into Moloch's body. One tore off its back right foot, another cut a huge gaping hole in its chest through which its still-beating heart could be seen. Jason attacked again. The front left leg exploded in a fountain of blood. The head on the right detonated into a thousand pieces, spraying gore across several hundred yards.

  The remaining heads howled in agony and directed their stares at Jason. Green columns of hatred erupted from the eyes, scorching the air toward him. He held his arms out. Like a magnet around iron, they drew the attack. The green beams slammed into his palms, the force knocking him backward several feet. The attack's sheer evil wrapped itself around him, but its fury was absorbed and Jason stood his ground.

  He turned his attention to Moloch, walking toward the beast.

  Time and again, the creature fired bolts at him. Time and again they were absorbed harmlessly. The beast tried to divert him by attacking Alex and Stephen. But they were safe under Jason's protection.

  Overhead, the golden power and Moloch's magic waged battle. Each gave ground, each took it. The match was a draw until the war on the ground was decided.

  Jason continued to approach Moloch. When he stood within fifty feet of the towering monster, he raised both hands. The power rose again, his hands became insubstantial within the light.

  Time to quit fucking around, he thought.

  One blast destroyed the second head. Another tore a huge chunk from the beast's right shoulder. Blood showered Jason, but the aura burned it away instantly.

  Its life being torn from it in huge bloody bites, the beast turned to flee to safety in the nearby woods. It made two hobbling steps before the most powerful of Jason's blows struck it halfway up its back, ripping it in two. The bottom half fell to the ground, the legs kicking and jerking wildly.

  The top half collapsed forward, entrails spilling out. As it hit the ground, a large black cloud rose around it, smothering it from view. With a thought, Jason destroyed the twitching legs, which evaporated onto the breeze. With another thought, he dispelled the cloud. What he saw surprised him.

  The three-headed beast was gone. In its place lay the remains of the original Moloch. Its legs were gone, only its upper torso from just below the heart was left. A massive pool of black blood covered the ground around it and its breath came in struggling wheezes, but the M-shaped brand glowed with burning malevolence.

  Jason walked up and stood over it. Moloch stared back with its one good eye and smiled.

  "I believe the proper response is: Go fuck your mother," it said, blood dribbling from between its lips. "But I'm afraid I made that impossible years ago, didn't I?"

  Jason reached over and put his hand on the top of Moloch's head. He stared directly into the creature's face.

  "You're mine," he said.

  Moloch's head exploded.

  A furious whooshing rose over Jason's head. He looked up to see the swirling vortex sucking back into itself, like water running down a drain. The opening to Moloch's world closed with a thunderclap and the sky returned to its normal shade of early-morning blue.

  Jason's power subsided but he still felt its tingle within his muscles. For all he knew it might never go away. He gazed at Moloch's destroyed body and experienced only a slight glow of victory. Mostly he just felt tired.

  The job's not over yet, he told himself.

  He strode back to where Alex and his father lay under their protective blankets of power. Lowering the protection, he picked Alex up, carried her over near his father and lay her next to him.

  He looked at his father. God, he looked awful. He looked at Alex. She didn't look much better. The poison of Moloch's magic was turning her shoulder black. I hope it hasn't harmed the baby, Jason thought.

  Bending his head, he put one hand on his father and the other on Alex. The power rose within him, pure white in its intensity, traveling through his body and out his hands. Alex and Stephen began to glow.

  EPILOGUE

  « ^

  Morning sunlight streamed through the hospital window, falling warmly across Alex's bed. "It's going to be a beautiful May morning," she said.

  Jason, who was sitting on her left, holding her hand, smiled and nodded.

  Then the next contraction hit and neither of them thought about anything else for sixty seconds.

  When the pain subsided, Alex looked over at Jason. He took a damp cloth and mopped her brow, then offered her some ice chips on a plastic spoon. She took them and chewed slowly, letting their coolness wash over her dry mouth.

  Jason smiled lovingly at her, then reached down to the bedside monitor that was spitting out sheaves of paper. Two wires extended from the monitor to Alex. One was attached to her belly to monitor the contractions, the other was positioned inside her womb to check the baby's heartbeat.

  "That was a pretty hard one," Jason said, looking at the readout sheet.

  "You're telling me," she said.

  "Is the epidural kicking in?" he asked.

  "Seems to be."

  "Good," he said. "This is killing me."

  Alex gave him a half-smile and looked back out the window. She brought her left hand up to brush some of the sweat-drenched hair from her eyes. As her hand passed through the sunbeam, the light reflected off the golden band on her
third finger.

  "They're coming about five minutes apart, so it shouldn't be too much longer," Jason said. "I know Dad is about to go crazy up in New Hampshire. He's already called three times. Says he has to putter around the house like a madman to keep from calling more often."

  "He gets around pretty well in that wheelchair," Alex said.

  "Yeah, and he told me he's also started his morning walks again. Although now he does them with his walker and doesn't go nearly so far."

  Jason's eyes and mouth tightened. Alex squeezed his hand.

  "Hey, you did everything you could," she said. "You couldn't ask for much more. The damage from the stroke was too extensive for you to repair completely. You saved his life. That's more than enough."

  Jason shrugged.

  "Has he ever said what kind of grandchild he wants?" she asked.

  "He said he just wants one with ten fingers and toes and one head. But between you and me, I think he'd rather have a girl at this point."

  "No shit," Alex said, then she paused and gazed out the window.

  "Are you sorry we didn't find out what it was?" she finally asked.

  "Not at all. This way, it's a total surprise."

  "Yeah, in more ways than one if it's a boy."

  Another contraction hit and Alex's statement changed to a grunt.

  "Breathe, breathe, breathe," Jason coached.

  After the contraction wound down, Jason sat in the chair next to the bed, continuing to hold Alex's hand. Silently, he prayed for a healthy baby, too. All the sonograms and tests showed it to be completely normal, but he still wasn't sure if Moloch's poison would have any effect on it.

  Moloch. He had tried not to think much about the beast since that day seven months ago. God knows, there was enough to take care of otherwise.

  The solving of the child murders was front-page news for almost a week. Jason blessed his lucky stars that he was able to get back to the tennis courts that morning before any school workers arrived. He disposed of the huge bloodstain on the court himself. That would be just too hard to explain.

  He kept his story simple. They tracked Benton to the tennis courts; there was a fight; he was knocked out and when he woke up, he found Badger's and Benton's bodies in the woods. How Badger managed to kill Benton after his neck had been slit wide open was a question posed by many people, but Buzz Saunders told everyone that a big guy like Badger could live for several minutes after his throat was cut. "There was plenty of time to blow that bastard away," was how Saunders put it to reporters.

  The fact that all the accoutrements of the child killings—the duct tape, the outdoor saws, the surgical gloves—were found in Benton's trunk helped ease the questions. With the added evidence of the typewriter and the car, there was no doubt Benton was the murderer.

  Badger was buried with full honor guard and awarded the department's highest medal of valor. Jason cried like a baby during the funeral and didn't care.

  Badger's kids stayed with Uncle Jazz for a few days while Badger's brothers and sisters decided who was going to take care of them. Telling them what happened to their father was one of the most heart-wrenching things Jason ever did. Tears flowed for several hours. By God, Jason vowed to Alex, if anyone tried to split those kids up, he was heading into court and fighting for custody himself.

  But Badger's sister Rosemary from Santa Fe agreed to take his children. That was fine, the kids said. They liked her. She was nice and a good cook. Their leaving was another painful moment for Jason and he promised to come see them soon.

  The disappearance of Anson Quintard was another matter. With a quick blast of power, Jason disposed of Quintard's remains on the field. When he got back to his apartment late that evening, however, he saw Quintard's car parked at the next building down and a warning light went off in his head. He told Alex to wait outside while he searched the apartment. Finding Jimmy Webster's body was no picnic, but finding the ounce of coke in Webster's pocket and adding Quintard's car to the equation gave Jason a pretty clear idea of what was going on.

  Making sure only Webster's prints were on the coke, Jason stuck it in the glove compartment of Quintard's car. Then he drove the car to the parking lot at Gwinnett Place Mall. A few days later, the search for Quintard began. When his car and the drugs were found but no body turned up, police ultimately assumed it was a drug buy gone bad. Who'd have thought it? Anson Quintard. A doper.

  Jason felt some guilt about going outside police procedures, tampering with evidence and all that, but then said to hell with it. The whole case was outside normal police procedures.

  As Jason relived the past, the hospital door swung open and the obstetrician came in, a nurse right behind him. Both were dressed in scrub suits.

  "How's the little mother doing?" he asked. Alex shot him an evil look.

  "That good, huh?" he said. "Well, let's take a look."

  The nurse handed him the readout sheet and he examined it for a few seconds.

  "Time between contractions is getting shorter and they're getting more intense," he said. "But then, you probably already know that. Let me wash up and I'll check the dilation."

  After cleansing his hands thoroughly, he leaned down and examined her.

  "Holy cow, this baby's going to walk right out of there in a couple of minutes," he laughed.

  Another contraction hit.

  "I'd better do it quick," he said.

  Two minutes later he returned in full surgical gown and mask. The nurse unhooked the bed's stirrups and adjusted them for Alex. The doctor wheeled a stool to the end of the bed and sat down.

  "Let's play ball," he said.

  Jason stayed at the top of the bed, holding Alex's hand. The next thirty minutes went by in a blur of groans and sweat from Alex and coaching from the doctor, the nurse, and Jason. Alex cursed Jason, cursed the doctor, cursed God for laying this burden on women.

  Finally, the doctor said: "I see the head. C'mon, push real hard. Okay, there's the head. Now, one more big push for the shoulders."

  Alex tensed up, her whole body rigid. Sweat poured down her face and a long, laborious groan squeezed from between her lips. She took breath in short little gasps. "This is too damned hard," she said, "just leave it up there."

  Just when she felt she simply couldn't push any more, when she had nothing left, she heard the cry of lungs taking their first gulp of air. A loud wailing shook the delivery room. Tears welled up in her eyes. Jason leaned down and kissed her.

  "Congratulations, you two," the doctor said. "It's a whole and healthy baby boy."

  Jason's head snapped up from gazing at his baby. He could've sworn he heard a peal of high-pitched cackling.