“No one’s arguing that we need to discover the reason the demonic activity stopped,” Jade says. “It’s just last time we were out late, I nearly lost my sister, so forgive me for feeling a bit hesitant doing this.”
The air in the room thickens with tension. There are eight of us crammed into Vivienne’s bedroom, some of us sitting on the bed, some on the floor, backs leaning against the wall. We all had to come in through the window, since otherwise her parents would wonder why we were all here, and we’d also be made to leave long before curfew. This way we can all leave the way we came in, and hopefully the parents won’t be any wiser.
Vivienne and Amara are the only Seers we know living in a home big enough to risk meeting together like this. It’s their mother’s book club night, and their father is tucked away in his study doing work, desperately trying to appeal to the Canadian and American governments to accept a boat full of South African and Swazi refugees that’s been drifting off the Atlantic coast for a few weeks, its resources and passengers quickly dwindling. It’s a terrible situation that I’d never even have known about if Amara and Vivienne hadn’t told me. The media is careful to avoid covering stories that might cause people to empathize with the plight of climate-change refugees and the goals of the CCT, since Los Angeles and other west coast cities were basically destroyed. Images broadcast around the world at the time by the CCT showed scores of ulcerated sores covering the faces and bodies of the unfortunate Californians who hadn’t left before the riots. The CCT attributed the sores to radiation poisoning from both the Pacific Ocean and abandoned nuclear power stations along the coast that had ruptured during some of the quakes right before the riots. People took to the streets, asking for freedom of movement and demanding to know why they hadn’t been better informed by the ruling parties of North America about the seriousness of the situation. It was after that that the crackdown on the CCT really began.
I look around … I’ve only asked the Seers I trust with my life to come tonight, those who won’t run to Ms. Samson and sacrifice me like a spring lamb if things go wrong. A small worm of doubt twists uneasily in my stomach. Maybe we shouldn’t be doing this, but it’s not like I’m the ringleader. Well, not really. I mean, no one’s said that, but it’s weird how they’re all waiting for me to decide exactly how this evening is going to play out.
Fiona nods, her blond curls bobbing up and down with the movement. My stomach knots with worry when I think about how easy it will be to spot her and Jennifer if they don’t have something covering their heads.
“I agree that we need to be careful,” she says. “But the thing is, after what happened to Isabelle, I want to hunt down every one of those walking dead bastards, slice their heads clean off, and then kick them around like soccer balls. One thing I know for sure — I’m not going to wait around for them to come to me again. Not after they tortured Isabelle and tried to drink her blood.” Her bottom lip starts to tremble, and she stops talking to wipe at her eyes.
“Yeah, it’s not like there’s been no demonic activity. There’s just been nothing happening recently that directly impacts human beings. I’m sure Isabelle isn’t the only animal they’ve killed in the last couple of weeks. After all, there aren’t going to be news alerts about loads of missing stray cats, are there?” Jennifer says, taking over for her sister, who is clearly too upset to continue.
Jade snaps her fingers. “Actually, I’ve noticed a massive amount of notices up about missing pets. If that many pets are missing, I’m sure there’s double or triple that amount of stray animals being eaten. I mean taken.” She pauses, an apologetic look spreading across her face. “But … you’re right that it’s not something that’s going to get any major attention.”
I sit back against the wall under the window. “Where are the bodies, then? I agree, there are lots of missing pet posters and online postings lately, but if these pets are being taken by demons, where are the bodies? The demons drain them of blood, so you’d think the leftovers …” I pause, trying to avoid Jennifer and Fiona’s gaze “… would be discarded. After all, I don’t think that demons are into composting or making sure the animals they kill are neatly buried.”
“Well, there’s only one way to find out,” Cassandra says, getting up and grabbing her pole. “It’s nearly dark, so time to head out there.”
She’s right. The inky blackness of the night is slowly creeping forward, devouring the dusky shadows in its path. I swallow hard. There’s no telling what we’ll find out there. Maybe nothing. But if we get caught doing this, it’ll be a massive fine for our parents, which Mom can’t afford. I’m pretty sure it would be a hardship for all the girls’ families, except Amara and Vivienne’s.
It’s weird. I wouldn’t usually stop to think about things like this. Maybe the attack really did change me, somehow shaking me up inside. Whatever’s happened, I admit I feel responsible for what might or might not happen tonight.
“Okay,” I say, standing up, trying to ignore the feeling that Jade might be thinking my ego is taking over again. “Let’s divide into parties. We shouldn’t go too far away from each other tonight. If we don’t find anything at all, we can always expand our search next time. I want safety to be the top priority. No matter what, we don’t want two sisters to be at risk of being harmed at the same time … especially by the same demon.”
Everyone nods, their eyes solemn. We’ve been taught about the fact that as Seers we are faster and stronger than most human beings and that we have the ability to sometimes read thoughts and feel what others are feeling. But we have one huge weakness: we only have half a soul. The other half resides in our twin. I guess you could say we’re the real deal when it comes to soulmates. This means we’re stronger physically and mentally with our twin, but if we’re killed together by a demon, it can then possess an entire Seer soul, which means the demon becomes extraordinarily strong, kind of like the Superman of demons. Even if a demon killed one Seer, it would be a lot stronger than your everyday demon, from what I can gather. But a demon with an entire Seer soul? I imagine that would be a very difficult, if not impossible, demon to defeat.
I once asked Mr. Khan if that had ever happened.
“It’s not something often spoken of,” he said, staring down into his cup of chicory like he wished he could crawl inside it to avoid the conversation. We were at a cafe after one of Mayor Smith’s boring city council meetings, the ones for things like water reservoir levels and pharmaceutical shortages at some of Toronto’s hospitals and pharmacies.
“So it has happened?” I asked, leaning forward on my elbows, eyes wide with curiosity … and fear.
Mr. Khan scanned the room before answering. “Not yet,” he replied, his voice low.
“What? What do you mean, not yet?”
His eyes darkened. “I don’t know if I am supposed to be telling you this …”
“Come on. I’m somehow special, elegido, remember? Shouldn’t I know these kinds of things? In case it comes after me?” Completely inappropriate, maybe, but sometimes I can’t help it. Actually, joking about the whole chosen thing sometimes helps to take the edge off a bit. It’s better than lying awake, staring at the ceiling, worrying that something might pop out from under my bed and take me to the Place-in-Between (or worse), which I’ve done plenty of times.
Mr. Khan looked up at me, alarmed. “Don’t say that, Jasmine. Don’t ever say that. You don’t want that to happen. I can’t see how you’ll survive it.”
A wave of terror swept over my body. I felt like someone just dumped a bucket of ice water over my head. Why was Mr. Khan suddenly talking in the future tense?
“It will go by several names. The Darkness being most common,” he said quietly. “According to the scrolls, it will be present at the Final Battle.”
“What do you mean it will be present? How do you know? Crystal
-balling it much?”
Mr. Khan shook head. “The scrolls and other ancient literature describe many elements of the Final Battle. It, this Darkness, will somehow originate during the Final Battle or shortly before. During a time when the survival of the human race and of the divisions between here, the Place-in-Between, and the other plane of existence, are torn apart. Or maybe it would be more appropriate to say they will collide to create a new existence.”
You sometimes hear people use this expression to describe feeling a deathly chill: someone is walking over their grave. Well, that’s the exact feeling I had at that moment.
“Is there a way we can stop this from happening?” I asked.
“We’re done talking about this,” Mr. Khan replied, placing the lid on his chicory and standing up. “You mustn’t ever tell anyone about this conversation. Because it shouldn’t have been spoken of in the first place.”
I glance around the room again, thinking about just how much I don’t want anything to happen to the girls who are here with me. Then I look at my video watch and swallow hard. It’s ten to eight. Nearly curfew.
“Okay,” I say, “we need to have a good mix of first- and second-borns out together. That way we’re balancing and making the most of our strengths. Everyone gets listened to. We’re trying to find out anything we can about the demons and about Smith’s crew of freaks.”
“How do we make sure everyone gets back safely? And home safely?” Amara asks, leaning against her pole.
“Don’t worry about that. I’ve taken care of it. We just need to make sure we’re all in the lobby of One Oak Street at ten p.m. sharp.”
All eight of us touch the tips of our poles together before sliding silently out the window and into the humid night.
JADE
I’m with Amara, Fiona, and Lily. Two first-borns and two seconds. And no twins together. I’ve got mixed feelings about Cassandra being with Jasmine after what happened on the night we encountered the demonic Jamie Linnekar, but I know that Jennifer and Vivienne will keep things in check as much as they can. However, I have to admit I’m really glad that Cassandra wasn’t put with me. More and more, I’m finding her personality as annoying as nails on a chalkboard.
“It’s strange being out this late,” Fiona whispers as we walk along the inner edge of the sidewalk. “I really hate the curfew, but it’s also uber creepy being out here.” She looks around us. “There are more people on the street than I expected there would be, but — and maybe this sounds totally paranoid — I can’t shake this feeling that we’re being watched. It’s intense.”
She’s right on both counts. A couple of weeks after the disappearances stopped, people tentatively began to return to the streets at night. This was depicted by Smith as Torontonians taking back their streets from the terrorists. Of course, things aren’t back to being completely normal, but it’s a huge change from the empty streets and sidewalks you could bowl down. I look around. The shadows of the trees seem to stretch out like fingers. It’s like they’re alive, pulsating.
More people on the streets when darkness falls also means we’re that much more likely to be caught being out after curfew.
“Here, tie this around your head, Blondie,” Amara says with a wink as she hands Fiona the black bandana tied around her own wrist. “Your hair is like a screaming alarm bell, girl.”
“So our job is supposed to be to just hang out, looking for demons? Should we be putting out an advertisement or something? Like demons wanted for observation?” Fiona asks, her voice thick with sarcasm as she stops to tie her hair up and back with the bandana.
Amara frowns. “Agreed. Why didn’t we get to go and check out Mayor Smith’s night crew?” she asks. “There wasn’t even a discussion of what each group was going to do. We got the boring task for sure.”
“It doesn’t have to be. Boring, I mean,” I say. “Listen, if there are still demons around, many of them will need to feed. We need to be somewhere where there might good supply of small animals for them to take.”
“That’s awful,” Lily says. “I hate thinking of all those innocent animals not knowing what they’re in for.”
Amara looks doubtful. “The drought’s killed off a lot of strays … but I suppose we could check out Kensington Market and Chinatown. If any feral cats are still surviving, they’ll be around there.”
“Are you serious?” Fiona asks. “We can’t possibly go on the streetcar after curfew. The driver will call us in for sure. And it’s at least a twenty-five-minute walk.”
“Come on, you’re a Seer,” I say. “We’ll run it. Back streets, mainly. That way we can hopefully stay unreported. And I doubt the demons are going to be strolling Yonge Street anyway.”
Amara rolls her eyes. “Fiona, how come Jade’s talking more like a first-born than you? You need to step it up.”
“Well, for starters, maybe because my dog, who we had since she was a puppy and Jen and I were six years old, was torn apart last week. Her stomach was ripped open, and she still tried to crawl to defend us, whimpering with pain the entire time. So going out looking for demons that are feeding off animals is pretty far down my list of things to do tonight. Kind of equal to poking out my eyeballs with hot sticks.”
An uncomfortable silence descends on us.
Lily clears her throat. “I think,” she begins, “that the best revenge for Isabelle would be to find and destroy each and every one of the demons that might be feeding off innocent animals. And to remember that at any time, they could turn to humans for nourishment. So … it’s kind of urgent that we do this.”
With that, we begin to jog in and out of the shadows along the side streets that run parallel to Carlton Street, heading west. The houses are large and old in this area. Once-grand brick exteriors loom out at us, their dark windows like empty eyes. A few are still well kept and fully lit, but most have been abandoned for small apartments; the cost of maintaining them became too much a decade or so ago, when the cost of electricity and fuel skyrocketed. Some of the abandoned gardens seem to have taken on a life of their own, with long tendrils of green ivy. For a moment it feels like, if we became tangled in their reach, we’d be pulled into the dark abyss of the homes behind them. I shudder, knowing I’m letting my imagination run wild. Thing is, these houses clearly show that the world would go on perfectly fine without humans. Better, in fact.
We’re just passing somewhere near the University of Toronto when we hear a high-pitched scream from one of the houses directly behind us. And it’s not a human scream. It’s the kind of squeal you might hear when a cat’s tail is stepped on. Hard.
We stop cold on the sidewalk and crouch behind an abandoned car that’s been barbequed. A lot of gasoline-fuelled cars have been abandoned over the last few years. They quickly became too expensive to fill, on top of having to pay the carbon/climate-change taxes to drive, and thus they became virtually worthless. Many people tried to at least save on the cost of towing their vehicles away to become part of a scrap heap. Those who could afford it converted their luxury model cars into fully electric vehicles.
“That sounded like a cat,” Lily says, the whites of her eyes growing large. “Like a cat getting its tail stomped on.”
“More like getting it chopped off,” Fiona says, her voice quiet.
I realize I’ve been holding my breath, waiting for the next squeal of pain, but nothing comes. Instead the sound of crickets fills the night again.
“We need to check it out,” Amara says, standing and raising her pole to her waist. “Because if those were demons grabbing that animal, they’re going to be gone as soon as they can be.”
“Wait,” I say, as the rest of us get to our feet. I want to tell everyone to take it slow, to discuss keeping safe, to have a plan in case someone gets hurt. As usual, the urge to be cautious is overwhelming.
Amara is already sprint
ing across the street with Fiona beside her, the two of them pausing for just a second to wave Lily and me over.
“The scream came from behind one of these two houses,” Fiona says. “We need to split up and check both.”
“Is that really a good idea?” I ask. “Shouldn’t we stay together? In case there are more of them than we think?”
“We’ll only be a few hundred feet away from each other. Whistle loudly if you need the help of other Seers,” Amara says, raising an eyebrow at me. I may be imagining it, but her voice seems to be tinged with mockery.
Lily and I jog off toward the house to the right. It was clearly abandoned a few years ago. In the front, a large wraparound porch sags like a new mother’s belly, and the first-floor windows are all either loosely boarded, or else the glass is shattered, making it a good shelter for displaced people and animals alike. Being so close to campus, it was likely occupied by students at one time. Of course, there’s virtually no need for student housing now that there are only a handful of foreign and out-of-town students, and those who are here usually live in residence to avoid the massive cost of a rental property, especially old houses like these, which were built before climate change was even an issue.
We move together in silence to the left side of the building, which is adjacent to the right side of the house Amara and Fiona are exploring, making sure to press as thin as paper against the exterior wall as we move. Lily’s directly behind me, close enough that I can hear her breathing. We reach the corner of the house and stop to peer into the overgrown backyard.
It takes a moment for my eyes to adjust to the tangle of bushes and grass nearly as tall as a young child. Then I spot them. A pair of demons, one holding the front end of a fox and the other the hind end, their razor-like teeth sunk deep into the still-twitching carcass. My stomach does a somersault as I watch streams of hot blood leak out of their mouths and down their chins before spilling onto the ground.
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