Give the Devil His Due

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Give the Devil His Due Page 7

by Blackwell, Rob


  But while the scarecrow moved with cocky indifference, Quinn’s rock seemed to move at triple speed, sailing through the air with rapid grace. Just as the scarecrow was about to pull the trigger, the stone hit him in the back of his head.

  Quinn wasn’t sure what he expected and had given no thought to it. Instead of hitting the scarecrow’s pumpkin head and bouncing off, the rock went straight through it, triggering a geyser of pumpkin juice and seeds. The back of his head caved in.

  The scarecrow immediately dropped the crossbow and turned toward Quinn and Janus, his carved face contorted in agony. He lifted his hands to the back of his head as if to hold it together. Instead, he let out a strangled cry and fell to the ground. The rest of his head smashed against the pavement, leaving a headless scarecrow on the ground. Janus prodded the creature with his foot, and straw fell from his clothes. The scarecrow was dead.

  Quinn ran straight to Elyssa, who was tied up against the back wall and still seemed in shock, staring at the mangled scarecrow. Quinn loosened the ropes restraining her and caught her as she fell forward. Grabbing her around the waist, he helped move her out of the booth as she kept muttering. Janus came forward on the other side and helped.

  “You’re okay,” Janus said. “You’re safe now.”

  Elyssa stopped talking and looked at Janus. She seemed to realize for the first time that she was no longer suspended as target practice.

  “Where am I?” she asked him, her blue eyes still wild.

  “Halloweenland,” Janus replied. “Whatever the hell that is.”

  “It’s hell, Elyssa,” Quinn said. “We’re…”

  At the sound of his voice, Elyssa’s head jerked around to face Quinn. When she saw him, she let out a scream and began pushing frantically away from them. When Quinn tried to stop her, she scratched at him and he let her go. Elyssa fell to the ground and started scrambling backwards without taking her eyes off Quinn.

  “Get away from me!” Elyssa said.

  “You know her name?” Janus said.

  “Janus, this is Elyssa, one half of the other Prince of Sanheim I was talking about,” he said.

  “Why is she acting like you’re Freddy Krueger? Look at her, she’s terrified, mate,” Janus said.

  “Because,” Quinn said, “I killed her.”

  “Oh,” Janus said. “That’s a pretty good reason.”

  Elyssa was still backing up, looking back and forth between Janus and Quinn.

  “Elyssa, we need to talk,” Quinn said.

  “Stay away from me,” she said. “He told me you would come, that you’d be back to finish the job.”

  “I don’t know who you’re talking about,” Quinn replied, “but I don’t want to hurt you. I just saved you, remember?”

  “It’s a trick,” she said, her eyes darting. “He said you were coming with your sword. He showed me in my dreams.”

  Quinn held up his hands to show her they were empty.

  “He was lying, Elyssa,” Quinn said. “I didn’t even know you were here.”

  “Was there a particular reason you killed her?” Janus asked. “Cause she’s really hot.”

  Quinn turned to him with an exasperated look.

  “You would be okay with it if she weren’t attractive?”

  “No, but look at her. She’s supermodel hot.”

  “If it helps, she was trying to kill me at the time,” he said. “Well, technically, at that exact moment, she was trying to kill Kieran.”

  “Who’s Kieran?”

  “The guy who ended up killing me.”

  Janus scratched his head and looked confused.

  “Could you write this down for me? It’s getting hard to follow.”

  “Kieran killed you?” Elyssa asked.

  She had stopped backing away, but still lay on the ground watching them warily.

  “I killed you, Kate killed Sawyer, and then Kieran stabbed me in the back,” Quinn said.

  “Why?” Elyssa asked, her tone echoing with disbelief.

  “I’m not sure, but it seemed to be Sanheim’s orders,” Quinn replied. “I didn’t have much time to ask him about it.”

  “But if you’re dead…”

  “We’re in hell, Elyssa,” Quinn said. “I was trying to…”

  Their conversation was interrupted by the strange music starting up again over the loudspeaker. Quinn watched as the flock of crows suddenly descended on the body of the scarecrow. For a moment, all he could see was a mass of black feathers obscuring the body. Then they flew away again, leaving nothing — not so much as one straw — behind.

  “Halloweenland would like to extend a hearty congratulations to our recent winners at Crossbow Junction,” the voice on the loudspeaker said.

  “That’s him,” Elyssa said, her voice sounding near panic again. “That’s the man who was telling me about you.”

  “Interesting,” Quinn said. “I’m not sure who he is, but he’s the puppeteer here, Elyssa. I wouldn’t trust a thing he says.”

  “Sanheim,” she said. “It has to be.”

  “No,” both Janus and Quinn said at the same time. Quinn raised his eyebrow at Janus.

  “I’ve talked with him a fair bit over the past several weeks,” Janus said. “He’s the one that sent me to find you, remember? Whoever this is might work for Sanheim, but it’s not the same person. I’m sure of it.”

  “We can talk about it later,” Quinn said. “For now…”

  “As a token of our appreciation, we’d like to invite our winners to our original haunted house,” the loudspeaker voice continued. “We call it the Haunted Mansion.”

  “There’s an original name,” Janus said. “Did you hire Eddie Murphy and make it into a terrible movie too?”

  “More than 10,000 people visited on a single Halloween night in 1988,” the voice continued. “It was our most popular attraction. The kids loved it.”

  “I don’t like the sound of this,” Janus interjected.

  “But sadly, there was an accident,” the voice continued, sounding more cheerful than sad. “In our haste, we let too many people in at the same time and, well, one of our employees ‘accidentally’ locked the exits.”

  “This sounds familiar,” Quinn said. “I heard about this when I was a kid. He’s talking about something that actually happened.”

  “Somehow,” the voice continued, “a fire broke out. My, my, you should have heard those poor screaming kiddies.”

  “How could 10,000 people die and I not know this story?” Janus asked.

  “It wasn’t that many,” Quinn responded. “It was more like fifty. I don’t remember much about it, but it caused all sorts of outrage at the time. There were new regulations put in place, that kind of thing. The park was a Mom and Pop operation; I don’t think it survived.”

  “It was quite a night, I assure you,” the voice continued. “Like shooting fish in a barrel.”

  “There’s something else,” Quinn said. “I knew someone who said they were there, but I can’t remember who it was.”

  “Quinn, look!” Janus said and pointed further down the park where a fog had rolled in. It looked like a thick, white, misty wall. Just in front of the fog, they could see a high chain-link fence erected across the middle of the path. Everything was completely blocked except for a large house on the left side of the pathway. Next to it was a sign that read, “Haunted Mansion.” The front door was wide open.

  “No way we’re going in there,” Janus said.

  But Quinn turned to look behind them.

  “Uh, Janus? You might want to look this way.”

  Behind them, rows of scarecrows were headed their direction. Dressed in different flannel shirts and occasionally leaking straw on the path, there were dozens — maybe hundreds — coming towards them. They carried various weapons, including machetes, axes and pitchforks. Their pumpkin faces were carved in fury.

  “I can’t wait to see how you like the place,” the loudspeaker voice said. “I can’t wait to see i
f you survive.”

  The scarecrows started running.

  “Why are scary things always fucking chasing us?” Janus asked.

  Elyssa seemed rooted to the ground, staring up at the mob heading toward her.

  “Get up, Elyssa!” Quinn shouted. “We gotta go. Now.”

  Elyssa looked at him.

  “It’s a trick,” she said. “You’re behind this.”

  Quinn ran up to her and grabbed her arm.

  “It’s not,” he said. “I swear on my love for Kate.”

  Whether it was the scarecrows rushing toward them or the expression he used, Elyssa stood up. All three of them began running towards the haunted house. As they got closer, Quinn noticed that the door was starting to close.

  The crowd behind them began shouting angrily as the three of them got closer to the house. Quinn heard curses and yells, and saw objects landing in the street nearby as the mob hurled items at them. Quinn reached the doorway first and held it open for Elyssa and Janus as they darted inside.

  As Quinn closed the door, he saw the mob of angry pumpkin faces howling at him. Except for one. For just a second, one scarecrow on the far right seemed to smile and wink at him.

  Before he could process what he saw, the door suddenly slammed shut.

  “Welcome,” the voice from the loudspeaker said as Quinn, Janus and Elyssa stared at the garish room in front of them. The voice sounded closer and more intimate now. “Welcome to your doom.”

  Chapter 8

  Of the many voices in her head, it was Quinn who demanded that Kieran be spared.

  That was a bitter irony to Kate. The man Kieran had killed, whose absence had sparked this waking nightmare, was the very same who denied her revenge. And not just her, either.

  Of course, Kyle was out for blood, and even the Horseman agreed the time had come to decapitate Kieran. Only the banshee stayed silent on the matter, refusing to be drawn into a discussion.

  Kate could not have described what was happening in her head. Quinn was dead, yet she heard his voice constantly. Kyle was dead, yet he wandered the halls of her mind whispering endlessly. The Horseman said little, but she felt his presence, quietly and persistently urging her to seek out those who deserved his swift justice. The banshee was there too, a misty figure who lurked on the edge of her consciousness, saying nothing.

  Kate had trouble processing so many different presences at once. Often she envisioned them as people in a room with white walls, almost like the cell at the asylum she had once occupied.

  “Kieran’s lying to you,” Kyle told her, pacing around the room. “He’ll wait until your guard is down and then he’ll strike. He can’t do what he promises.”

  “He deserves to be punished,” the Horseman added. “He has our blood on his hands.”

  Kate turned to face them both.

  “What if you’re wrong?” she asked. “Why would he lie about this?”

  “Liars don’t need a reason,” Kyle said and smiled wryly. “Just trust me on that.”

  Kate hated that Kyle was here, yet try as she might, she couldn’t seem to banish him. Every time she thought she had, he came back, often stronger. He was a part of her now. He had infected her.

  “Death is forever,” the Horseman said.

  “Look who’s talking,” Quinn broke in.

  Kate was always glad when he spoke up. Despite all the company in her mind, Kate felt so alone. Or more precisely, she felt constantly attacked, assaulted by the thoughts of Kyle and the fictional phantom of Sleepy Hollow.

  “You’re dead and yet you’re here,” Quinn continued, looking directly at the Horseman. “There’s only one person here who isn’t dead, and that’s Kate. So spare me the lecture on what’s possible.”

  “This is different,” Kyle said, “and you know it. He’s blathering on about saving you, bringing you back. It’s just a distraction so she won’t kill him.”

  Kate tried to reassert herself into the conversation.

  “It doesn’t make sense,” she said. “Kieran’s right. He could have run.”

  “We would have found him,” the Horseman said.

  “Eventually, maybe,” Quinn said. “Last I checked, we weren’t trying very hard. What with killing all the random prisoners.”

  “Your objections have been noted previously,” Kyle said. “They needed to die.”

  “So glad to know you need a reason,” Quinn said.

  “Oh, I don’t. It’s those two who do,” Kyle said, gesturing to Kate and the Horseman.

  “Enough!” Kate said. “This has been decided already. Quinn says we should listen to him.”

  “I’m glad you listen to me sometimes,” Quinn said.

  Kate gave him a wounded look.

  “I’m doing this for you,” she said.

  “No, you’re not,” he replied. “You know damn well I wouldn’t want any part of this. You’re doing this for yourself.”

  “And what’s wrong with that?” Kyle asked. “You abandoned her, after all. Give her what pleasure she has left.”

  Quinn crossed the white room and poked a finger in Kyle’s chest.

  “Sometimes I wish you were real so I could kill you again,” he said.

  “I’d like to see you try,” Kyle responded.

  “Please stop,” Kate said, and she sat down on a chair that suddenly materialized in the room. She cradled her head in her hands. “Just. Please. Stop.”

  She closed her eyes and willed the room to be empty. When she opened them, Quinn, Kyle and the Horseman were all gone. Only the banshee's skeletal form remained, staring at her through hollow sockets.

  “Can we save him?” Kate asked her.

  But as she had before, the ghost remained stubbornly silent.

  *****

  “Kate, are you with us?” Kieran asked.

  He looked at Tim for help. Kate was sitting on a chair, staring off into space.

  “I’m not sure I want to know what’s going on in her head,” Kieran said. “It’s like she’s not even here.”

  The three of them were sitting in Tim’s apartment, having decided that a jail cell was the wrong place for this conversation. Despite the fact that Kieran was a “person of interest” in last year’s murders at Ball’s Bluff battlefield, Tim apparently had little trouble securing his release.

  When Kieran asked him why, Tim had responded obliquely.

  “Right now, the sheriff will do anything — and I do mean anything — to stop a certain person from running amok in his county,” Tim said. “As long as the murders stop, I have fairly wide latitude.”

  “So he’s just going to let Kate and me go?” Kieran asked.

  Tim smiled.

  “Only until November 1,” he said. “Once she can be contained again, he will do everything in his power to capture her. You’re less of a priority, but I’m sure he'd like you too.”

  “How comforting,” Kieran said.

  “You should have thought about that before you murdered Quinn,” Tim said.

  “Believe it or not, the police weren’t what I was worried about at the time.”

  Kate stirred in her chair and suddenly stood up.

  “Where are we?” she asked.

  Kieran gave Tim a concerned look. Even now, Tim wondered if Kate might suddenly change her mind and kill Kieran.

  “At my place,” Tim responded. “We drove here from the police station. Don’t you remember?”

  Kate shook her head.

  “I have trouble...” her voice drifted off.

  Tim took a long look at her and a wave of sympathy overcame him. The woman he met two years ago had been strong and confident. He had tried to frighten her off by firing warning shots at her car. He had been surprised when she boldly stood up, daring him to kill her.

  When he saw her, he guessed who she was immediately. He had met Susan Blakely a few times at various police functions he had attended as the local crime reporter. As the wife of one of the senior officers, Susan was kind, hospitab
le and striking, with long blond hair and stunning blue eyes.

  Kate was her spitting image. Tim had wanted nothing more than to frighten those troublesome reporters away that day. He wanted to be left alone to wait for the killer that he knew still lurked out there. Instead, he had let Quinn and Kate in. They had found a broken man. A man who only remembered himself when he learned his old nemesis, Kyle Thompson, or Lord Halloween, was finally dead.

  Now Kate was the one who was broken. In the months since she had been in the asylum, she had lost a lot of weight. Her once beautiful face appeared gaunt and drawn. Tim noticed the dark circles under her eyes, which appeared sunken and distant.

  “I’m sorry,” Tim said, almost involuntarily. “I know this is hard.”

  Kate seemed as if she hardly heard him. Instead, her eyes fixed on Kieran, who was pacing the room while casting anxious looks in her direction.

  “You,” she said simply.

  Kieran stopped and faced her.

  “Me,” he said.

  Kate seemed to recollect herself.

  “How do we save Quinn?” she asked.

  It was the question for which Tim had been waiting. Despite what he told Kate at the jail, he knew only the bare outline of Kieran’s plan and could process very little of it. There were so many key details still to understand.

  But now that he had finally been asked, Kieran seemed uncertain.

  “I...” he said.

  Both Tim and Kate looked at him expectantly as he stared blankly at them.

  “If you don’t start talking soon,” Kate said, “I’m going to kill you.”

  Kieran closed his eyes and took a long breath.

  “Okay,” he said. “But give me a little time, okay? This requires some background.”

  Kate nodded.

  “Just make it good,” she said.

  *****

  “The more I thought about it, the more I started to believe that you are the key,” Kieran started. “When Sanheim first told me to betray you, he wanted me to kill you, not Quinn.”

 

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