Devil Kickers

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Devil Kickers Page 16

by Daniel Marc Chant


  Jim was about to continue when Claire Marie interrupted him.

  “Jim, they saved my life,” she said. “Whatever was happening to me, they stopped it. So, if you even think about suggesting something unproductive, I swear to god I will slap you. We're in the middle of a nightmare, but we're all in it together.”

  Jim was startled, but soon regained his composure and hung his head.

  “I'm sorry,” he said.

  “So, what are we going to do?!” Ben cried out. “We can’t stay out here for forty bloody days. We haven't got enough food in the house for a weekend, let alone that!”

  “We're not going to be staying here,” Chris said, standing up. He had a look on his face that showed no fear or panic. He looked determined.

  “But we have no car,” Petra said.

  “We have a van. There's enough space in the back to fit everyone in. If we can reverse it up to the front door, everyone can jump in and then we can get the fuck out of dodge before things get any worse.”

  “That could work,” Sister Sarah said.

  “It does mean we'll have to drive over your front garden, though, I'm afraid,” Chris said.

  “Fuck the garden. Let's get out of here,” Jim said. The students nodded and the light of hope was reignited once more.

  “My brother, the man with the plan,” Pete said, smiling broadly.

  “Let's not get too carried away. We need to get to the van first. We had to park it at the far end of the street, remember?”

  “Forgot about that,” Pete said. “Well, I should still be able to reverse it to the house, no problem.”

  “Who said you're driving?” Chris asked.

  “Because I'm better at reversing than you, that’s why. You make a right mess of it whenever you have to reverse into a parking space.”

  “It's not easy—”

  “No, it's just you're shit at it. Plus, you drive like an old lady, so if we want to make a quick exit once we're loaded up, it's best that I'm the one behind the wheel.”

  Chris had no reply, and instead nodded in agreement.

  Petra looked at Sister Sarah once more.

  “Sister, in that village in Korea, did anything else happen?”

  “The reports say that the rainstorm lasted for days, and that blood had filled the reservoir upstream. The dam eventually broke, and the village was completely washed away. Washed away by a river of blood. Only the abandoned church remained. Somehow it withstood the flood.”

  The room fell silent once more. Ben gave his girlfriend a look.

  “You had to ask, didn't you?” he said.

  ***

  The group moved into the hallway and towards the front door, Chris leading the way. His plan was a dangerous one, but it was the only chance they had. The van keys jingled in Pete’s hand as he swung them around his finger.

  “Okay, first we check to see if the coast is clear. Then, if it's all good, you make a run for it. Sound good?”

  “Don't worry about me, Chris. It's not that far,” Pete said.

  “It's far enough. Just be careful alright?”

  “When am I ever not careful?” Pete replied, spinning the van keys on his finger like a wild west gunman. They slipped off his finger and clattered to the floor. Pete sheepishly picked them up.

  Jim began pulling the nails from the boards holding the front door shut, and made short work of freeing it. Chris stepped forward and slowly began opening the door a crack. Careful not to dislodge the protective holy salts. Pete felt someone grasp his free hand and hold it tight. It was Sister Sarah O'Sullivan, her beautifully blue eyes almost distracting him from how worried she looked.

  “Please be careful, Peter,” she said. “If, at any point, you think you can’t make it, then return to this house. It is a place of sanctuary. You and your brother are too important to risk your lives on reckless decisions.”

  Pete smiled at her.

  “Sister, if you haven't got it by now you never will. We're the Idol brothers. We make a living out of reckless decisions.”

  Chris opened the door slightly, and slowly put his eye to the crack to look out of it. When he saw what was outside, he took a deep breath. He then closed the door carefully and put his back to it.

  “Well?” Pete asked. “Is it clear out there?”

  Chris said nothing. Instead he looked at Petra.

  “Have you got any alcohol in the house?” he asked.

  “Yes. In one of the lower cupboards in the kitchen,” she replied.

  “Great,” Chris said, and walked to the kitchen.

  “Chris? What’s the matter?” Sarah asked.

  “Yeah, dude, is it clear out there or not?” Pete added.

  “Have a look for yourselves,” Chris said, before turning and walking into the kitchen.

  Pete stepped up and opened the door slightly to peek outside.

  “Oh fuck,” he sighed

  “What is it?” Ben asked.

  Pete stepped back, pulled the front door open completely, and when everyone else saw what was outside, they were stunned into silence.

  Just beyond the gate there was a large group of people. A very large group of people. Clustered together in a crowd, they were lined up in rows, unmoving and silent, as if they were doing a twisted impression of terracotta warriors. The group was made up of people of all ages, from the elderly to toddlers, but they all had one thing in common.

  They looked terrible.

  Their skin was pale, blistered, and scabbed, and they looked long, as if someone had stretched their bones. They stood upright with their hands at their sides and silently stared at the house, their eyes almost glowing, fiery embers. It was like a wall of fireflies all frozen in time, and it was terrifying. It was impossible to see how many exactly were out there, but it must have been close to a hundred people.

  If they were indeed still people.

  Sister Sarah stepped forward and slammed the door shut.

  “Who are they?” Claire Marie asked.

  “My first guess would be that those handsome looking devils out there used to be residents of this fair little town,” Chris said. He returned from the kitchen with an open bottle of vodka in his hand. “Or at least, they used to be before they suffered the same fate as Danger.”

  “Let’s have a swig of that,” Pete said, grabbing the bottle from his brother’s hand.

  “So, what you're saying is?” Jim said.

  “What I'm saying is that a large group of demonic entities have somehow been given a free pass to turn a town full of bitter and miserable locals into bloodthirsty nightmare monsters whose main goal is to get into this house and rip us all to pieces,” Chris replied.

  Jim gulped audibly. “Oh,” he said.

  Pete took another swig from the vodka bottle and passed it back to his brother. “I'm sorry about my brother,” he said. “He has a tendency for the dramatic. I think what he's trying to say is that we’re completely and irreversibly fucked.”

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  THE VILLAGE OF THE DAMNED

  “IIIIIIDOL BRRROTHERSSS!!”

  The sound came low, heavy and in stereo. It was the sound of a hundred voices in unison, all speaking in one tone, one voice.

  “I KNOW YOU CAN HEAR ME, IDOL BROTHERS!”

  Inside the house, the students rushed to the boarded-up windows in the living room, all trying to peer through the small cracks to see what was happening outside. Pete, Chris, and Sister Sarah chose to open up the front door once again, ever so slightly, and peer outside themselves.

  The demonic villagers were still in the same place. All unmoving, like hideous statues made of flesh and hate. They all had their mouths open, their jaws slack and hanging loose, as the unearthly voice boomed from within each of them. It was as if they were all being used as a megaphone for some unseen and unimaginable force. It spoke once more, and the sound echoed, hollow and terrifying as it travelled through the air.

  “YOUR DEFIANCE IS SOMETHING TO BE ADMIRED, BUT I
T IS ALSO FOOLISH. THIS 'HOLY WALL' YOU HAVE DEVISED, IT MAY KEEP MY CHILDREN OUT, BUT IT ALSO TRAPS YOU IN. IT IS A USELESS FOLLY, AND ONLY DELAYING THE INEVITABLE. IT WILL CRUMBLE, AND WHEN IT DOES, MY CHILDREN SHALL TEAR THE SKIN FROM YOUR BONES.”

  Pete looked down at his brother, who met his gaze with a similar look of concern.

  “Certainly got a way with words, hasn't it?” Chris said.

  “THE INNOCENTS THAT YOU THINK YOU ARE PROTECTING DO NOT HAVE TO SUFFER THE SAME FATE. MY CHILDREN ONLY DESIRE THE DESOLATION OF YOU AND YOUR WHORE.”

  “I think he's talking about you, Sister,” Pete said.

  “Yes, I pretty much gathered that,” Sister Sarah replied.

  “IF YOU LET THE OTHERS GO, NO HARM WILL COME TO THEM. THEY SHALL BE ALLOWED SAFE PASSAGE.”

  The Idols looked over to the group of students in the living room.

  “Do not believe them. They are puppets for the Lord of Lies.” Sister Sarah told them, her voice loud and commanding.

  “Have you taken a look at that lot? There's no way we're going out there,” Ben said.

  Pete smiled, then poked his head a little more out of the doorway. He felt a cold wind rush against his face.

  “Not sure if you caught that,” he shouted at the monstrous group in the distance. “But they said that you can all go fuck yourselves!”

  He pulled his head back in, and smiled at his brother.

  “Are you bloody mad?” Chris whispered.

  “What? It's not like the day could get any worse, is it?” Pete whispered.

  Chris pondered this for a second, and then nodded.

  “Fair point,” he said, and they all looked back outside.

  “FOOLS!” boomed the stereo voice from hell. “YOU ARE ALL GOING TO DIE TONIGHT.”

  The villagers began to tremble, their jaws still open wide.

  “AS ABOVE SO BELOW,” the demonic voice boomed once more. “WHEN THE BOWELS OF HELL ARE FULL AND IDOLS ROAM THE EARTH THE GATES WILL OPEN AND THE SPIRITS WILL POUR OUT TO DRAG THEM DOWN. FORSAKE HOPE ALL WHO STAND IN THE WAY OF MAMMON, ABANDON HOPE ALL THOSE WHO OPPOSE THE GREAT POWER OF THE FALLEN STAR.”

  The voice trailed away, and the villagers all closed their mouths. Soon they began snarling and growling, but none of them moved an inch.

  “It finished off with a sermon. What a bloody show-off,” Pete sighed.

  “It’s quoting a prophecy that most in the Vatican ignore,” Sister Sarah said quietly. “It’s distorted and changed some of the lines, of course, but that’s no surprise.”

  “Who’s Mammon?” Claire Marie asked. Pete jumped out of his skin as she spoke up from directly behind his shoulder.

  “Jesus, woman, do you have to creep up on me like that?” he exclaimed.

  “Mammon was the ancient name for the Devil,” Sister Sarah said. “Back before Christianity became a religion, when Judaism was still young and other religions believed in one true god and a war in heaven. They called the one who led the rebellion Mammon. They said that when he was cast down, he took on the appearance of a great two-legged beast, corrupted from his heavenly form by the evil that he had allowed into his eternal spirit.”

  Claire Marie looked dumbfounded. Pete placed a hand on her shoulder.

  “Bet you're glad you asked, aren't you?” he said.

  Chris stepped away from the door for a moment.

  “Okay. Right now, there are two things we need to do. One, we need to figure out how to get to our van so we can get the hell out of this town.”

  “And two?” Jim asked?

  “We need to get everything in this house we can use to defend ourselves. Knives, bats, whatever you have that you can use as a weapon. If one of those things does manage to get in, I'd rather face it with a bit more than witty banter,” Chris replied.

  ***

  They raided every room in the house, grabbing whatever they could potentially use if the worst-case-scenario did actually happen.

  “Well, this lot will have to do, I guess,” Chris said.

  On the table lay kitchen cutlery and utensils, unused DIY equipment, scissors, a cricket bat, two tennis rackets, a few bits of wood left over from when the group barricaded the house, some bathroom aerosols, and an acoustic guitar.

  “Okay, everyone, choose your weapon,” Chris said.

  As most of the group moved to the table, Pete looked at his brother.

  “You loved saying that, didn't you?” he said

  “Little bit,” Chris replied.

  As the students sorted through the weapons, Sister Sarah turned and crouched down to her large black bag. She unzipped it, and began rifling around inside. As she did so, she noticed Petra step out of the kitchen and back into the hallway. Her attention was then caught by Pete, standing over her, weilding a large kitchen spatula in one hand. He looked at it disapprovingly and then glanced at the nun.

  “Don't suppose you brought a machine gun with you?”

  Sarah couldn't help but smirk, and reached into the bag.

  “Afraid not. I might have something that can help us in some way, though, should we need it.”

  She stood up, taking the bag with her, and began placing items on the kitchen counter. The items were sleek, new looking, and had a logo emblazoned on them. After placing four of them on the counter, she turned to Pete, who looked both confused and unimpressed at the same time.

  “You brought energy drinks with you?”

  “No, they're not for drinking,” she said of the bottles in front of her. “These are filled with holy water. I thought I'd bring some, just in case we needed it for the exorcism.”

  “You've got four bottles of the stuff, Sister,” Chris said, a big kitchen knife in his hand. “How many people did you think we were going to exorcise?”

  “Well, I wasn't sure. As you know, I haven't done this before, and I thought it was best to be over-prepared than underprepared.”

  “I don't think anyone would accuse you of being underprepared, Sister,” Chris said. He stepped over to the drinks bottles, picked one up, and unscrewed the lid. He sniffed the liquid inside.

  “What are you doing?” Sister Sarah asked.

  “Just wondered it smelt like,” he mumbled.

  “And?” Sarah said

  Chris sheepishly met her gaze. “Smells like water”

  “What did you expect?”

  “Uh… I don't know.” Chris replied. He was lying. He did know why he had done it. He realised it shortly after sniffing at it. It was a force of habit. When Father Rhodes had been with them, he sometimes snuck gin into his holy water flasks. This had proved to be problematic on a couple of occasions when the holy H²0 was needed, but the brothers had still managed to improvise and deal with the situation. Chris was struck with a sudden pang of sorrow, and in that moment missed Montague. What would he have made of this situation they found themselves in? No doubt he would have been spitting obscenities and roaring defiance as usual, but maybe that was exactly what was needed right now.

  We don't fuck about when it comes to saving the souls of the innocent. You know that!

  Chris shook off the solemn cloud hanging over his head and went back over to the Motley Crew prepared to defend this house with their lives.

  Jim was holding his cricket bat again. Claire Marie was stood next to him with nothing in her hands and looking like she had no intention of grabbing a weapon. Ben, however, now held a plank of wood that had old nails in it, no doubt from when they tore apart the wardrobe it came from. Pete was still looking through the pile, clearly unhappy with the selection.

  “Right,” Chris said, and the group all looked to him. “So far, those things are out there, just watching the house. Yes, that’s creepy as fuck, but it does mean they aren't making an effort to break in yet. Our priority is to figure out how to get out of here, but has everyone got something they can use if anything goes south?”

  Everyone nodded.

  “Where’s Petra?” Ben asked.

  With perfect timing Pe
tra strode back into the room, went over to the kitchen table, and placed a large case and a bag down on it. The bag was full of competition arrows, and that could only mean one thing. Pete smiled from ear-to-ear, and pointed to the case.

  “Is that what I think it is?”

  Petra seemed to not notice his glee, and tapped gently on the large case.

  “Yeah. I might need to use it,” she said.

  “Awesome. Could I have a go?” Pete asked.

  “No,” Petra replied.

  Pete looked briefly crestfallen, which made Chris smile.

  “I'm going to go see if anything’s changed out there,” Sister Sarah told them all, and headed out of the room, which then fell silent.

  Everyone was there, makeshift weapons in their hands, not knowing what to do with themselves. It was Ben who offered the antidote to that situation.

  “Who would like a cup of tea?” he asked.

  ***

  From between the wooden boards covering the window on the first-floor hallway, Sister Sarah gazed out over the crowd of monstrous beings standing outside. Pete appeared behind her and handed her a steaming hot mug of tea. She looked surprised as she took it.

  “Thank you,” she said.

  “Benjamin made a round of tea for everyone. I think it's his coping mechanism for this whole situation,” Pete said.

  “At least he's got one,” Sarah replied.

  “Yeah. I won't lie, if that’s his way of coping, then I'm all for it.” Pete slurped his own mug of hot tea.

  Sarah took a sip of her own and continued to look out.

  “They're still out there, then?” Pete said.

  “Yes. They are just watching, and waiting.”

  “Waiting for what?”

  “I guess for their chance to rush in and kill us all.”

  Pete leant against the wall and sighed. “You weren't exactly top of your nun class when it came to giving people bad news, were you?” he said.

  “I'm sorry. This whole situation is kind of beyond what I've been training for. There was nothing in the curriculum about any of this.”

  “What, you've never been in the presence of people who were marked for death by the Lord of the underworld before? Sister, I'm starting to doubt that you paid attention at all during those classes of yours.” He gently patted her shoulder. “I wouldn't worry, Sister. This situation we're in is a hideous nightmare right now, but every cloud has a silver lining.”

 

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