by N. P. Martin
“Nice job,” Eva said. “Lucky for you, no one can see your face or you would have the world looking for the demon slayer.”
Frank snorted. “That’s a laugh, especially considering the bullshit they’re trying to feed people here.”
A consensus was slowly spreading across the media stations that the huge black flying beast that destroyed half the city and its inhabitants wasn’t in fact a demon or anything of the sort, nor was it even alive. Such notions would be painfully ridiculous, the TV people said, going to great lengths to emphasize that point. The line they were now feeding people was that the demon was in fact a creation of terrorists—a giant robot, similar to a Stealth Bomber, but much bigger. People saw it as alive because the terrorists had also pumped a powerful hallucinogen into the city’s water supply, which would explain the many reports of people seeing monsters on the streets.
“Are you hearing this shit?” Frank said, shaking his head.
“I’m afraid so,” Eva said. “Looks like the government has started its cover up operation already. They’ll not rest until every piece of footage has gone from public view.”
“As always.”
“Had to happen, I suppose.”
“You agree with it?”
“Of course not. But at the same time, people are not ready for the truth.” She refilled their glasses with the bottle on the coffee table. “You know that. That’s why we are here, right? To protect them from the truth. From themselves if they ever found out they lived with monsters in their midst. It’s just how it has always been.”
They talked as well about the future of the Facility and the Watcher High Council. If the Council was to continue, new members would have to be voted in, as all the old ones were dead. Frank saw the need for the Facility and the training it offered. If it managed to mold soldiers like Michelle and Sandra, then it was worth keeping. The politics would have to change though, if not go altogether. Not that it was any of Frank’s concern, as he had operated outside of the Council for years now, and would continue to do so. Maybe Sandra would step up, help organize things. She was young and still inexperienced, but from what Frank had seen, she was leader material and deserved a shot as much as anyone else. If Michelle were still alive, he would have said she was the only candidate to take over, but she wasn’t alive, and for that he was still deeply sorry. He had liked her, especially as she was Jack’s daughter. Somehow, he felt like he had let Jack down by not protecting her better, despite the fact that there was nothing he could have done to save her. Still, her death weighed heavy on him.
After several more drinks, Frank left Eva, told her he was going to pick up his car where he had left it near the cabin. When he got outside, he took out his phone and called Lucas. “It’s me,” he said when Lucas answered. “Time for you to honor our agreement. Come meet me. I need a lift to my car.”
Lucas teleported himself and Frank to the spot where Frank had left his car on the side of the road. He was relieved to see the Chevy still there and untouched. The three skinned soldiers still lay undiscovered in the middle of the road. “Nice,” said Lucas. “When are some demons going to get that this isn’t Hell?”
“Probably never,” Frank said. He took the feather from inside his jacket, amazed that it hadn’t been lost or irreparably damaged since he had first taken possession of it. As the feather had saved his life probably twice against Tolloch, he was almost loathe to hand it over. He watched Lucas as the demon’s eyes locked on to it, a slow smile coming across the demon’s face. “Tell me what I need to know. Then you can have the feather.”
Lucas nodded. “I’ll tell you what you want to know,” he said. “But I don’t think you’re going to want to hear it.”
Frank sighed and shook his head.
Doesn’t sound good, Frank.
“Tell me,” he said.
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Neal
OTHER BOOKS BY N.P. MARTIN
Hell Is Coming (Watchers Book 1)
Hell Is Here (Watchers Book 2)
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
N.P. Martin is a bestselling fiction writer under Neal Martin. Dark fantasy and horror has always been his passion so he loves the fact he can now get to create his own particular brand of darkness. As well as writing, Neal is a private self defense instructor, black belt in Jujitsu and husband and father. He lives in N. Ireland.
Table of Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
