The creature pulled back making a thin gurgling sound.
Kohl waved at the man holding the chain. “You can let go now.”
The man instinctively pulled the chain tighter, held it for a second before finally processing what had been said. As he released his grip on the chain, he took a series of long steps backwards..
The creature didn’t react initially, Kohl had to clap his hands and shout to get any kind of reaction from it. I could hear some of the women behind me cry out as the demon ambled forward, uncertain now, the length of chain running along the floor.
“You’re just letting it go?” I asked, horrified.
“Oh no. It’s going to join the party up at the big house. That’s why I insisted on the collar,” he laughed at his own feeble joke. “We didn’t get a formal invitation but I hear that her ladyship can be very accommodating.”
I wondered about the exact make-up of that powder. No doubt something hormonal. It probably wouldn’t kick in straight away but when it did things were liable to get messy.
I stopped walking and tried to free my elbow but Kohl’s grip was solid.
“Talking of collars,” I said. “What happened to yours? Aren’t you supposed to be a priest?”
“It’s not our clothes which define us, it’s our actions,” Kohl said. “People need guidance and religion provides that guidance. Without it they start to invent demons all of their own.”
“I’m sorry! Are you trying to blame all this on dwindling church attendance?”
“In difficult times people return to their faith. Fear inspires them.”
“Nowadays, people look to science first and religion not at all.”
“Science?” Kohl came around to stand in front of me. “What you call science is simply a group of constantly changing theories. What will it be this week? Evolution, Global Warming, Astro-physics? A load of guess work and intellectual fads. They’ll serve until the next big idea comes along to replace it. In a hundred years’ time they’ll look back at your scientific absolutes and laugh.”
“There are more miracles in nature than there are in the bible. The world’s changed: you can’t simply frighten people into believing anymore.”
“It’s worked pretty well for the last two thousand years. People need to see that the threat of hellfire is still very real. Think about your friends over there. They’re going to think a lot more about Heaven now that they know what the alternative is.”
“And what about these women: what do you intend to do with them?”
Kohl looked around before letting out a sardonic sigh. “They harbour beliefs contrary to Christian doctrine. But that doesn’t mean that they can’t make an important contribution to the fight against heresy. I intend to give them that opportunity.”
“By conjuring demons?”
But he wasn’t listening. He was watching the door of the first helicopter sliding shut. A figure holding a pair of Glo-sticks was standing directly in front of it. He gave a series of hand signals culminating in him raising a hand overhead in an approximation of a rotor blade. The men in charge of the remaining women started to push them back out of the way. The man with the Glo-sticks dropped his arm, prompting a huge surge of energy from the helicopter as it struggled into the air.
The roar of the rotor blades was astonishing. Kohl had to shout in my ear just to make himself heard.
“It’s nearly time to pick a side.”
“And the Church condones this? This raising of demons?”
“Of course it does. Pope Honorius was the first to realise that demons could be used to fulfil God’s ministry. The sacrifice of a lamb was often used to summon them.”
He had that gleam in his eye. That missionary zeal.
“But these women…” I couldn’t believe what he was saying.
“Commanding demons comes at a price. The blood of animals is useful but it’s limited. Human blood is better but the blood of a magic user is without equal.”
I slapped him across the face.
The shock of it brought him out of his reverie. His hand went to the corner of his mouth and when it came away there was blood. There was blood on his teeth too.
We were interrupted by one of the pilots who was holding a small white-board on which was written, ‘3 mins.’ He simply pointed upwards and handed Kohl a headset. As the man went off in the direction of the second helicopter Kohl adjusted the headset and switched it on.
Fifty metres ahead of us a large group of women were pulling on blue life vests under the watchful eye of their guards.
“Have you got her?” Kohl shouted to someone behind me.
One of the guards appeared holding Carlotta. She was bright red in the face.
Kohl grabbed her by the jaw. “I’m going to have to leave you now, Bronte. But just remember: I’m not the only one on that helicopter.”
I spread my feet wide, made ready to hit him again but they must have anticipated my intentions. Strong hands grabbed me from behind.
“If you make any attempt to use your powers against me you’d best be prepared for the consequences.”
He leaned in close and, for a moment, I thought that he was going to kiss me. Instead he said simply, “Bon Voyage.”
I watched as he walked away. Why bother to threaten me? Did he really perceive me as some kind of threat? In my present state I could no sooner bring down a helicopter than I could raise the Titanic. Conjuring the tornado had exhausted all my energies. And yet he was wary enough of me to take Carlotta along as some kind of insurance.
The sound of gunfire came from behind us and everyone turned to look. Our view was blocked by the hedges but there was no mistaking the sound. It was very close. Had they got to the gateway yet?
The guy with the red plaid shirt grabbed hold of me by the back of the neck and started pushing me in the direction of the third helicopter. To my left was Carlotta’s group looking frightened and confused. They were in no position to question what was happening and so allowed themselves to be led over to their transport in the centre of the enclosure. There was going to be very little room for manoeuvre once it came to take-off; a fact that I intended to take full advantage of.
When I was back with the women I’d arrived with, the hold on my neck was released. I slowly straightened up watching as Kohl boarded the second helicopter. Someone handed him a life vest but he threw it away. The powerful down-draft caught it and propelled the vest the length of the camp.
We were being herded towards our transport so tightly you had to be careful not to trip over one another. The other women all had their wrists tied. I tried to speak to the woman next to me but it was impossible to hear anything over the roar of the rotor-blades and eventually I gave up. It was a big step up into the helicopter’s cargo bay and two of the men were having to help the women climb aboard.
I went to my left where a thick black webbing dangled over the side. All the time, I was aware of being watched by the guy with the plaid shirt. It was harder than it looked to pull myself up as there was nowhere to brace your feet. As I slid along on my belly I came face-to-face with a pallet stacked with life-vests.
Mr Plaid shirt climbed up directly after me. For a moment, he was vulnerable as he hauled himself aboard. I could have so easily kicked him in the face but there were two other men sitting across from me, their weapons held loosely on their knees. The women were all sitting on the floor, searching for ways to make themselves more secure. The thrum of the rotor blades was more muted inside and it was easier to think.
If help were going to arrive it had better come soon.
I concentrated on Kohl’s helicopter, surrounded by a swirl of leaves, its rotor blades shimmering. Kohl stood in the doorway talking into his head-set. I thought that I saw Carlotta sitting back in the cargo bay but she had her head down so I couldn’t be sure. The last of the passengers were aboard. It wouldn’t be long now.
I felt the men around me tense. There was a sudden scramble for weapons and across
the way Kohl was shouting into his headset. A man knelt in the doorway immediately in front of him and squeezed off a five-round burst. At the same time the helicopter rose into the air.
Mr Plaid-shirt went to the doorway of our helicopter and edged forward, trying to get a look at whatever it was that they were shooting at. The men around me had their weapons raised, desperate for a target to present itself.
A blur of movement over to my left made me look up.
The thing hit the helicopter hard causing it to swing back like the gondola on a Ferris wheel. The impact caught the kneeling gunman unprepared and he stumbled forward, pitching over the edge. He hit the ground awkwardly and lay still.
As the pilot struggled with the controls, my attention switched towards the creature clinging to the fuselage, its powerful rear legs pawing the air. All I could see were the muscles in its back working desperately as it struggled for purchase. I was momentarily fascinated, by the way the spotlights played across its silken pelt bringing out the golden highlights on its long brown body. I don’t know how I could be so sure - perhaps it was the fact that I’d only ever seen one werewolf- but I knew at once that it was Silas. Despite his size he looked particularly vulnerable clinging to the aircraft, the weight of his lower body working against him as the machine climbed ever higher.
There was terror in the faces of the people on board as the helicopter continued to swing from side to side. All weapons were forgotten as people fought to stay upright, only Carlotta seeming composed. She was down on all fours crawling across to where her brother struggled in the doorway. There was no sign of Kohl. I observed this tableau for little more than a few seconds but it felt like much longer. But then I felt the floor pitch beneath me and realised that we too were taking off.
The second helicopter was some sixty feet above us and moving quickly away, becoming just a black shape against the night sky. As I looked up I could still see Silas’ haunches as he fought to lift first one leg and then the other into the craft. He shifted his weight again, struggling to gain entry to the cargo bay but as he did so I saw a figure loom over him a glint of silver in his hand.
Flashes lit up the interior of the cargo bay as the gun was fired repeatedly.
Silas hung there for a moment and then he was gone, free falling back towards the ground. The trees obscured his point of impact and I just stood there, my hand raised to my mouth.
We were climbing steadily now, heading off in the opposite direction to the second helicopter. But, far from reassuring the men around me, the fact that we were air-borne seemed to aggravate them. With the threat of attack receding by the second they became more belligerent: they snapped at the women who surrounded them while they checked and re-checked their weapons. Their adrenalin levels had to be going through the roof. The helicopter then started to turn, giving us a clear view of the brightly lit camp area below. Lying on the grass was the body of the man who had fallen from Kohl’s helicopter. He looked for all the world like someone who’d fallen asleep at a music festival only to be abandoned by his friends.
The gunmen around me craned to peer over the edge. It was clear from their disparaging looks that they viewed the figure with a professional detachment.
It happened to him because he got sloppy. It could never happen to me.
A prime example of psychological self-delusion. The great lie that fighting men have told one another throughout the ages. Because, without it they’d never be able to pick-up another weapon. Their belief in their own invincibility was perhaps their greatest weakness and one which I intended to fully exploit.
The life vests were right in front of me. The pallet they were sitting on was secured with canvas strapping but their plastic wrapping had been ripped open. Only a handful of vests had been taken out and there looked to be another thirty in there at least. I had no idea how heavy they were but I’d seen Kohl’s life vest get whisked along the camp. If nothing else, it would cause a diversion while I targeted the pilot. Any number of spells would get the job done. I just had to be careful that, in doing so, we didn’t hit the ground as a fireball.
And with that in mind, I put my foot on the stack of life vests and pushed.
My foot slipped off the plastic sheeting. Three life vests dropped onto the floor and lay there. All eyes fell on me then and it was through embarrassment rather than anything else which caused me to mutter the words of Spell Number One.
It’s the first spell they teach you and one of the simplest. It allows you to move objects across a table. It’s quite cool the first time you manage it and that’s supposed to keep you going while you master the next ninety-nine.
The pallet shifted a little but stayed where it was. I heard the sound of guns being cocked and shifted my focus to the plastic sacking itself.
And applied Spell Number One for a second time.
The pallet lurched towards me disgorging all the remaining life vests over the floor. They lay there in a heap.
Then the helicopter banked and the vests took flight, surging out through the door.
Looking back, it probably wasn’t the life-vests themselves which did the damage. Rather it was the metal rings which you slid the ties through. Whatever, a terrible screeching sound issued from the rotor blades while a klaxon warning blared around us.
The world dropped away from under us and I saw one of the gunmen fly out of the cargo bay as if pulled by a string. I was flung against the roof along with everyone else who had been standing at the time, including Mr Plaid-shirt. Everything that wasn’t tied down became air-borne. I tried to grab hold of the fuselage but found nothing but sleek seams. When everything started to fall I went with it. I struck the floor hard and pain arced up my back.
Then, as the floor tipped away from me, my fingers found purchase in a thin strip of webbing and I managed to hang on.
As bodies tumbled through the night, my last memory was of seeing the main house far beneath us.
Then there was a ‘crack’ and the world went away.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Something feathery was touching my mind. It was a peculiar experience: not unpleasant but unlike anything I’d experienced before.
“Pretty, isn’t it?”
It was Kohl, his voice echoed, slightly distorted.
I was aware of the night sky, the stars impossibly clear. I was falling backwards but at such an incrementally slow rate that it hardly seemed possible. Things had just become so much less urgent.
I had become part of some wonderful diorama. I had to be suspended from something, I told myself. Because my legs were higher than my head. That wasn’t right. And why were my feet naked, my toes beaded with light?
“Where are you?” I asked. “I can’t see you.”
“Where do you think I am?”
I considered this, “I don’t know.”
“Good answer.”
“You didn’t need to shoot him, you know.”
Kohl laughed inside my head. It was a peculiar sensation.
“I think you’re wrong there. He was desperate to get shot.”
The main house appeared just below my elbow.
“How are you doing this?” I asked. “How come I’m not falling?”
“Oh, you’re still falling, there’s nothing much I can do about that. I just thought it would be nice to talk. Before we couldn’t.”
“Are you telling me this because I’m going to die?”
“I have many skills but seeing into the future is not one of them. You’re in a great deal of danger, of course, we shouldn’t under-estimate that.”
“What about the others?”
“Not looking good, I’m afraid. But wasn’t it you who kicked that pallet out of the door. Neat little trick; if you wanted to get everyone killed.”
“I’d rather that than you got your hands on them.”
“I’m not sure they’d agree.”
There was a piercing pain, as if some part of my mind was being severed. And I was alone again.
Reality re-asserted itself with a passion.
Branches rushed past me, whipping at my face and clothes but doing nothing to arrest my progress. I remember trying to grab hold of one but I may as well have tried to grab a length of barbed wire. It must have worked to slow me down marginally though because I now felt each individual branch as they thumped into me.
The ground was coming up far too quickly. A solid branch caught me in the small of the back and inverted me so that now I was looking down at the ground. I broke through a tangle of smaller branches before I managed to hook my arms over the next one. Stopping so abruptly, my legs jerked up, I lost my grip and then, was falling again.
At the moment just prior to impact I managed to twist my body so that I hit the ground with my shoulder rather than my head. The force of it slammed my teeth together and I lay there with the taste of iron filling my mouth.
Everything was still but I was alive. I wanted to laugh at this miracle, laugh heartily and well but my body wasn’t currently responding so I just lay there.
It took a monumental effort just to turn my head a fraction. Grass tickled my face and there was a roaring filled my ears. Over to my left the helicopter lay on its side surrounded by an indeterminate number of small fires. The cockpit had been crushed flat but the main cargo hold looked to have retained most of its integrity. The rotor blades were gone, having thrashed themselves into nothingness.
I attempted to push myself into a sitting position. I wanted to see what had become of the other passengers but the effort it took was just too much. My head lolled, feeling incredibly heavy.
It took me a while to process what I was seeing. Bodies had been hurled across the grass like sacks of discarded corn. Mr Plaid-shirt was not far away, but he looked different. After some thought I realised that his head was on the wrong way round.
In the distance one of the women was already up and moving around. She was wearing a white blouse and, in the moonlight, her sleeves looked to be stained black.
Bitter Moon: Urban Witch Series - Book 2 Page 22
