Echoes of the Past (Demon Squad)

by Tim Marquitz

  He drew in a deep breath, nodded, and put the gun away. It made it clear he knew about the chamber in Hell and its intent because he didn’t question the part about my unc…my dad. He walked up to me and held his arms out. I looked at Poe’s peaceful face and said a silent goodbye, before passing him over to Marcus. The gorilla took him with reverence.

  “We need to talk when this is all over, but are we cool for now?”

  Marcus pulled his gaze from Poe and met mine. His eyes narrowed and his jaw stiffened, but he nodded, nevertheless. “I’ll let you know when the funeral will be.”

  I started to thank Marcus when I felt a presence crash against my senses. “Shit!” I turned to D’anatello. “Get him out of here, now!”

  Immersed in the supernatural life, despite being human, Marcus just reacted; no questions, no debate, no challenging me. He bolted for the gate and set his foot on it just I heard something monstrous crash into the front of the store. I reached over and snatched my stolen gun out of Marcus’ holster and willed the portal to life. I left the location for him to decide and ran for the front of the store. The gate activated at my back just as I got past all the piled collectibles and saw who’d come a knocking.

  It was another blast from the very recent past. Given I’d seen Jorn already, her appearance wasn’t much of a surprise.

  Built like a brick shit house stacked on top of another, Venai had ripped the wall open with her bare hands. Matriarch of sorts to Jorn and their dead pal, Zellick, and one of the Nephilim herself, she hammered the last nail into my suspicion as to who had been feeding the DSI information.

  Taller than me, and about three times as wide, Venai was what Arnold Schwarzenegger always wished he could be. She wore the fashionable SWAT outfit of the DSI, but she made Captain Johnson of the tree-trunk legs look like kindling. Her blond hair cut short to the scalp, and her face completely without adornment or makeup, she also made the poor captain look feminine. Built like a Sherman tank with a bumper of double-d’s strapped tight to her chest, she complemented her look with thick steel plates covering her knuckles like MMA gloves made out of I-beams. Each had three vicious spikes on the front. I’d seen them in action up close, and I have to say, they hurt; a lot.

  “I told you we weren’t done with you, demon,” she shouted, her basso voice echoing off the walls. “You’re going to pay for what you did to Zellick.”

  I really can’t say I felt too bad about capping the little shit. He and his friends didn’t have a problem going after my cousin, and Zellick certainly didn’t mind shoving his twelve inch penis-compensator knife into my lung when I wasn’t looking. As far as I was concerned, it was a bullet well spent.

  I’d also given Venai one in the shin, but it looked like she’d gotten that taken care of, which spoke to the resources the DSI had at their disposal. Not a good sign.

  “You know, Venai, we’re really gonna have to do this some other time. I’m in kind of a rush. I’m off to get my back waxed. Wanna come with? Two-fer-one special.”

  She growled and hunched a tiny bit, but didn’t come at me. I hunkered down right along with her and shifted to make sure I was directly in front of her torso. “Now, now, Angelikins, I’m not really in the mood to be shot again, either, so call off the dogs before I kick their asses back to the pound”

  I could see the wheels in her head working through her eyes. She was clearly wearing a wire, her eyes drifting for no apparent reason, and it was transmitting our conversation back to someone. I imagined some tactician was guiding her in the best way to take me out. I figured it was Rebecca Shaw pulling the strings.

  Venai knew what I was capable of. She and her friends had caught me off guard and overconfident at my house, but even then things didn’t work out so good for her. She wouldn’t be here confronting me without some sort of backup plan in place. I had a pretty good idea that part of that plan waited outside with sights aimed and fingers at the ready. The DSI storm troopers were likely circling around back while we bullshitted.

  It was time to go before I got trapped inside. “Keep up the weight loss, Venai. You’re looking marvelous” I told her, conjuring my best Billy Crystal as I backed toward the gate.

  She clearly got the message to stop me. With a roar, she started forward and I raised my newly reacquired gun. Unfortunately, she learned from our last encounter. Rather than charge in like a bull, she kicked a chunk of wreckage from the front wall at me. I ducked and stumbled back into the piles of comics and paraphernalia laid out across the floor. Dancing to avoid crushing a case of Lady Death cards, I caught a fist to the chest for my adoration—I mean consideration.

  I went through the first wall pretty easily. It was only a façade set up to divide the two sections of the store. The second wall, however, was made of brick. Too bad the Big Bad Wolf didn’t have me around. We’d have been chowing down on some roast pig, because I huffed, and I puffed, and my ass blew the house down. Well, I blew a hole in it. It was déjà vu all over, but it didn’t hurt too much. I figured I’d begun to develop callouses on my back from all the wall busting.

  I crashed into the alley behind the store and rolled to my feet. Venai wouldn’t have engaged if the cavalry weren’t in place, so I willed a quick shield in place and ran for the exit. Bullets pinged off my defenses right on cue, and I heard Venai burst from the store, taking the rest of the wall down with her. I didn’t bother to look back. Gun held out in front of me, I bolted for the corner as I waited for the trap to spring. With all the gunfire and smashing and crashing going on, I knew there wouldn’t be any civilians in the street. That made life easier. So, right before I reached the end of the alley, I dropped as low as I could go and still run and strafed the walls on both sides.

  I sprang from the alley, my peripheral vision picking up guys in black hunkered down behind the walls, covering their heads. They shouted as I flew by, turning too slowly to shoot without taking out their own guys. My feet slapped the asphalt, and I dodged around a few cars to put them between me and the government goons and kept going.

  Jorn trundled toward me from an alley off to the right side, but it was clear they’d expected to contain me in the store. There was no way Tubs was gonna catch me. I was gone before he hit the street, giving him a view of my disappearing ass.

  A weird whistle sounded nearby as I hit the end of the block. I made the mistake of looking for the sound. A glint of silver careened toward me, a gray-black streamer of smoke trailing it. My brain kicked in at the last second. It was a flippin’ RPG, and I don’t mean Dungeon’s and Dragons.

  I spun and ducked for cover as the rocket propelled grenade struck a nearby car and exploded. Heat and shrapnel pinned me like a honeybee whore on prom night. What pitiful remains were left of my stinky hoodie fell off in flaming pieces. I felt as if I’d been tattooed by Michael J. Fox. The explosion knocked me onto my ass, and I stayed there until the smoke cleared and the sharpened pieces of metal stopped raining from the sky.

  Apparently, that was too long.

  Venai closed and tried to take my head off. She feinted with a kick and launched a right hook. She shouldn’t have bothered. Too slow and obvious to throw anyone off, I jumped back out of her reach, but I’d learned my lesson, too. I stayed low and kept my shield going, and sure enough, a bullet thrummed off it. Out in the open, I was a sitting duck for the DSI snipers lurking about. I didn’t have any clue how many they had besides Johnson, but all it took was one. I needed a way out, and I found it.

  Venai closed again, and I scooped up a handful of burning shrapnel and threw it at her face. Her hands jumped to block her eyes. I followed right after and punched her own fists into her face. She cried out and stumbled back as I ducked low and around her, slipping in behind. I could have ended it right there, a shot to the spine or the back of the head, but I wasn’t worried about Venai on her own. Jorn was too far away to be a factor yet, but the snipers and RPG guys were definitely a threat. Sooner or later they’d wear down my shield and get through, so I im
provised.

  As Venai tumbled back, I braced myself and grabbed her shirt, shifting her momentum so her feet came off the ground. She made a cute squeaking noise as I hefted her in the air; think Sasquatch cute, not kitten. She was like lifting a Volkswagen. I was gonna need to schedule a visit with my chiropractor after this.

  I wrapped my hand into the back of her shirt and twisted the cloth around to pull the thick material against her throat to keep her occupied. My other hand made like I was bowling and wedged her pants into places no man had ever gone before. It was both arousing and disturbing in equal measure. I felt honored to be her first.

  Nephilim shield in place, I ran for it, making sure my magic covered the rest of me. Venai grunted at every step, squirming but not able to slip free. None of her buddies took a shot as we bounced along, but she was heavy and was tiring me out. Fortunately, I didn’t need to get far. I ran down the street a ways, putting all the DSI guys at my back. It was so much easier avoiding getting shot when you knew what direction the bullets were coming from.

  Once I made it to the spot I’d spied from down the road, I sounded the debarkation chuckle and dumped Venai on her fabric-stuffed ass. She hit the ground with a meaty thud that had to hurt. She pretty much confirmed it when she jumped to her feet—conveniently keeping me out of the crosshairs of her fellow agents—and took a swing at me. I ducked the first and let my fingers do the walking one more time; into the holes of the manhole cover I’d stopped over. I popped up as she swung again, her puffy cheeks crimson.

  I raised the steel cover and braced. Her fist crashed into it and I heard what sounded like popcorn. All the bones in her hand and wrist, and quite possibly her forearm, snapped on impact. She shrieked and set my ears to ringing. I raised the manhole cover over my head and booted her square in the twins. She flew back a good fifty feet. I figured that would be far enough. It was.

  The asshole with the RPG, who’d been waiting for Venai to move, let loose with another round. I stood still until it was close and tossed a magical shield up. It wasn’t anywhere near enough to stop it, but it was solid enough to trigger the warhead. As soon as it blew up, I dropped into the sewers and pulled the steel lid down behind me. It latched into place with a metallic thunk and I fell into the wet muck below.

  The grenade thundered above and shook the ground, causing bubbles of stink-water to jump up and douse me good. I suddenly regretted losing my hoodie. It was by far the better scent. It probably tasted better, too. Something gritty and pungent crunched between my teeth and I wished I’d have thought to keep my mouth shut when I jumped in.

  No time to worry about the consistency of peoples’ lunches or whether I’d find corn in my teeth later, I hurried through the tunnels, randomly taking right and lefts to throw off any pursuit. It’d probably take the DSI a little while to figure out where I went, my departure hidden behind the explosion, but at some point they’d be after me. However, if I was lost in the sewers, it was a pretty good bet they wouldn’t be able to find me.

  Now all I had to worry about was the smell killing me.

  ~

  It’s a good thing my expectations are low. I set out to lose myself in the sewers and that was exactly what I did. Mission accomplished. You’d think I’d know the place better as often as my mind visits.

  After about an hour and a half, I stumbled across some sewer folk who kindly pointed the way out for a mere fifty bucks. I don’t know what I felt more violated by: the nasty grit that invaded my ass crack or the cackling old men who’d raped my wallet. It was a tossup. At least they’d stuck to their part of the deal and didn’t send me off to die in the dank, smelly deeps. Following their directions, I found a ladder that led to another manhole cover. I just hoped I hadn’t circled around to the same one I’d come in through. That would really suck.

  Just as I latched onto the rung to climb out, the static of a telepathic connection sprung alive inside my head.

  “Frank?” Katon’s voice sounded loud and clear.

  Never comfortable carrying on these kinds of conversations in my mind, too many disturbingly errant topics popping up, I moved away from the ladder and down the tunnel a bit to make sure no one lurking above could hear me.

  “Go ahead.” I felt a strange sense of serendipity that I belonged under the earth, talking to myself.

  “I’ve been searching everywhere for Scarlett, but I haven’t found her. Raguel said he hasn’t either, not since shortly after you met with them. He has the angels on it, but he can’t spare too many to hunt her down with all the drama in Heaven.”

  “Damn it.” I was gonna kick that angel’s ass if Scarlett turned up hurt. “We’ve got to find her. Mihheer might not be the toughest guy she’s faced, but he’s sneaky. She doesn’t deal with sneaky well.”

  I heard Katon huff. “I won’t stop searching.”

  “Good.” Katon was on it. “I need to stop in Hell real quick, so I’ll set some dread fiends on the hunt. Maybe that’ll help. I figure the big alien is still somewhere down there.”

  “In Hell?” Katon’s voice sharpened.

  It hit me right then that I hadn’t told Katon what I’d suspected when I ran down to warn Baalth. “Yeah, what’s up?”

  “Rachelle told me she’d detected a new dimensional portal opening down there a short while ago. I didn’t think much about it because it started near Lucifer’s old chambers and looped back into Hell all of a sudden, as if somebody had split the wall just to travel to the other side.”

  That was Mihheer. The alien’s magic must have short circuited the wards that kept Baalth’s portal from being detected. Rachelle must have picked it up right before it closed. “Was she able to track it?”

  “I didn’t ask for specifics, but she seemed to know the location.”

  “Find out. If Gorath and Mihheer have Scarlett, that’s where we’ll find them.

  “I’ll get the location and meet you in Hell.”

  “Come to Lucifer’s chambers…and bring me some bullets.”

  I heard him mutter a quick affirmative and the connection was severed. My breath cold in my lungs, it looked like we were closing in. No clue what to expect with Gorath, I couldn’t help but wonder if we were marching off to die. How would Lucifer deal with someone invading his turf? I thought back to the story I’d been told about when Gorath first arrived. Lucifer kicked his ass and locked him up for a thousand, mind-numbing years. That was how the old Satan dealt with it.

  It was time to show Gorath how the new Satan rolled. I just needed to find some wheels.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Once I was back in Hell, I went to the God-proof room to take care of a couple things—like find some clothes—before I headed out with Katon. Chatterbox greeted me at the door with a rousing rendition of “For Whom the Bell Tolls” that sent shivers down my spine. I seriously needed to ask Karra if he’d been a psychic medium or a conman before he died. He always managed to sound off with something prophetic, or just vague enough to be deemed prophetic, when I was running off on a mission.

  It was creepy.

  No time to worry about CB’s choice of soundtrack, I dropped off the flesh tablet and gathered the last of Lucifer’s blood, all two vials of it, and stashed them carefully into the pocket of a pair of absconded slacks. While I cherished the gift, I hadn’t been bothered by consuming the blood of my uncle before, but now, knowing Lucifer was my father, it seemed strange to be drinking the same blood that ran in my veins already. It made me wonder if only I were able to feel the effects beyond the healing. Would anyone else turn into Mongo-Frank if they consumed more than a few sips? Guess it didn’t matter since I only had a little bit left. No one would be drinking it but me.

  As I paced and waited for Katon to arrive, I asked Chatterbox to send Karra a message and tell her I was okay. The zombie’s eyes rolled back in his head and fluttered there for a few minutes while I wore a hole in the carpet. Just when I was starting to get annoyed with him, CB’s eyes thumped back into place and
he stared at me, his gray cheeks quivering.

  “Ccannn’ttt fffiiinnndd,” he said in a voice that sounded as distraught as a zombie voice could possibly sound.

  “What do you mean you can’t find her? You’re connected, right?”

  He did his best to shake his head. “Ggggonneee. Nnooottt ttthhheeerreee.” His teeth clacked together, over and over. “Nnoottt tthheererre.”

  My throat constricted as I thought about what that meant. “Can you take me to her?”

  Again, he shook his head, his eyes lolling in their sockets. “Ggoonne.”

  “What’s gone?” Katon asked, coming into the room.

  I spun around, gun in hand. My breath ached in my lungs. “Karra. CB can’t find her; can’t reach her.”

  “Is that normal?”

  “No. I’ve never known CB to be out of touch with her. She’s his master.”

  He looked to Chatterbox and then back to me. “He’s still animate, so my guess is that she shut down the connection from her end for some reason. You piss her off?”

  “No more than usual, I imagine.” I thought back and couldn’t remember having done anything that would cause her to shut me out. Then again, pushing for her to stay home with daddy when she was more powerful than me was probably a kick to the parts for her. “Shit…maybe.”

  Katon rolled his eyes. “Maybe she and Scarlett are off vacationing, lounging around the pool and bitching about how frustrating you are.” He cracked the tiniest of smiles. Even he didn’t believe that.

  As much as it stung, though, it was entirely possible. I turned back to CB. “We’ve got to go check something out. Keep trying to reach Karra. We’ll be back soon.” With everything going on, I couldn’t worry about Karra, too. Scarlett was a pit bull, capable of tearing a guy apart limb by limb, but she was gullible, naïve in a way that made her vulnerable because she wanted to believe in the goodness of people.

  Karra was none of that. She wore her paranoia on her sleeve and didn’t walk down a dark alley without nuking it from orbit first. Besides, she had Longinus camped out in her house, and he sure as hell wouldn’t let anything happen to her. I’d take the Anti-Christ against any of the muck-a-mucks present in our universe right now. No alien slime ball would dare to stick anything even remotely probe-like near Karra without her father snapping it off and shoving it someplace horribly uncomfortable and quite indecent.