by J. L. Murray
He pulled me up. "I’ve been calling you," he said.
I pulled my phone out of my pocket and looked at it. "Dead," I said.
"Figures."
"How’d you find me?"
"Talked to Sofi," he said. "Felt bad waking her like that, but I had to make sure you were okay."
I told Eli what happened.
"So why was the demon so taken with you?" he said. "Not that I blame him," he quickly added. "But, I mean, it’s like he only had eyes for you."
I shrugged. "Maybe it’s because of that connection he had to my father. Only natural that if my father loves me, the feeling might transfer over to the demon. Or maybe I’m just more interesting than anyone else."
"Maybe it’s your modesty," said Eli. He looked at me. "All joking aside, Nik, I was pretty worried about you. I’m glad you’re alive. And," he cleared his throat, "I’m real sorry about your dad. He was a son-of-a-bitch, but I’m pretty sure he loved the hell out of you."
"Yeah," I said. "I guess he did."
"He said something to Abaddon," he said, looking down at his own lap. "Can you tell me more about that?"
"Oh," I said, thinking back. "He said something about how Abaddon couldn’t kill him. He said the cancer would be more successful. Something like that, anyway."
"What do you think he meant by that?" Eli was acting peculiar. He was trying to be nonchalant, but it was just making his questions more suspicious.
"I don’t know, I thought he was just trying to fake Abaddon out," I said. "Why?"
Eli shook his head. "No reason."
"What’s the matter with you? You’re acting weird."
"Just tired," he said, smiling. "Think you can help me throw this lug into the backseat of the car?" He gestured at Gage, who let out a snore in return.
"I can try," I said, getting up. I heard the scritching noise again and it seemed to me that the floor vibrated just a little. "Did you feel that?" I said.
"What was that?" said Eli.
Now the scritching had turned into a hard scraping noise, like stone against stone. A noise like a sledgehammer shook us even harder and I grabbed onto Eli so I wouldn’t fall over. I looked at the floor. Right at the spot where Abaddon and my father had disappeared, a spiderweb of cracks had appeared. The booming noise came again, and the spiderweb exploded, shards of cement bursting out from within. It was like a small bomb went off, only instead of an explosion, a blackened, clawed fist had exploded from underneath the floor.
"Oh, shit," said Eli.
"Yeah," I said.
We ran to Gage, and each tried taking an arm. Gage weighed about a million pounds and we grunted under his weight. Finally we managed to get him up off the floor, and wind his arms around our shoulders. I couldn’t reach my coat on the floor after getting Bobby up, and there was no time. I loved that coat, but I loved being alive more. Abaddon had shattered more cement and managed to get his head out, and was now sniffing the air, his sightless eyes endless holes, the scar tissue already forming on his face.
"Bobby, wake up," I said, as we dragged him away from the demon, and back toward the barrel-lined aisles. His toes dragged along the ground, but he didn’t wake. Eli and I went as fast as we could. I motioned with my chin the direction to the back door. The cold hit me like I’d been doused in ice water. I always forgot how much colder it was by the water, even the sludgy, smelly water of this river. Fresh water my ass. Gage groaned, but his head lolled. Stealing glances behind us, we dragged him back towards the car. We were still way too close to the demon lord that I had blinded, insulted, and literally kicked back into Hell.
After some grunting and cursing, we managed to cram Gage into the back seat. I fished around in his pocket for the keys. "Shit," I said, as they slipped out of my hands and onto the floor. As I grabbed at them, my arm nudged the bag of rock salt we’d hefted there at the mayor’s house. I looked on the other side of the floor to see the long, rectangular box that had all my guns from the police station.
"Niki, let’s get the hell out of here," Eli said. He was sitting shotgun, staring at the warehouse.
"I have an idea," I said. I turned on the dome light and opened the box, fishing around in the dimness for what I was looking for. I found it at the bottom. My old shotgun. An inappropriate birthday present from one of Sasha’s friends, back before he wasn’t in my life anymore. Sofi had given it back to me on my eighteenth birthday. I fished around in the bottom of the box and found two shells. I opened the first shell, setting the shotgun on top of Gage. Carefully I dumped half of the buckshot on the ground. I reached over and dipped my hand in the bag of rock salt and looked at it. It was the big, chunky kind. That was good. I filled the shell up with the salt and closed it back up.
"Niki, this had better be worth risking our lives for," said Eli. He pulled out his Glock.
"That’s not going to help you," I said, and started filling the second shell with the rock salt.
"I know," he said. "But it makes me feel better with a goddamn giant from Hell after us."
"Fair enough," I said. I heard a crash coming from the warehouse. "Think he’s found his way out?" I said. I closed up the second shell, then loaded them both into the shotgun. I pumped it and got ready. "I just need him to get close enough," I said. "I’m pretty sure this will work."
"Pretty sure?" said Eli. "For keeping us here and possibly causing our extremely unpleasant deaths, you’d better be positive."
There was the sound of metal grinding, then wood splintering, and then nothing. Eli and I watched the warehouse, waiting for the demon to come staggering out. There was a thump, then another. I looked up and nearly soiled myself. Abaddon was on the roof, standing straight up, sniffing the air like a bloodhound. He crouched and jumped, the ground shaking under his feet. We were fifty feet from the demon now. I had to wait to get a better shot.
The demon stopped, steadying himself, then sniffed again. He turned toward us. "Oh, Jesus," said Eli. He took a step toward us, then another, then he was running, barreling down the road. I steadied the shotgun, waiting for the right time. He was nearly close enough. I got ready. Just as I was about to unload, he veered off, cutting a path toward the water.
"What the hell?" I said. I heard a splash in the river. I ran to the bank to see what Abaddon was doing. Maybe he miscalculated without his sight. I heard splashing growing fainter and could just barely make out a shape in the dark running upstream. There was a glowing pink string around his neck, the end whipping behind him. Eli had joined me, his breath curling like smoke.
"Where’s he going?" he said.
"That did not go at all like I meant it to," I said.
We got in the car and just sat there without speaking for a while. The ghosts were ignoring me, pretending like they couldn’t see me. Not that I could talk to them right now. I had to figure out what the hell went wrong. I thought back to something Abaddon said to me in the warehouse.
"He said he was going to take over," I said, breaking the silence. "Said he had followers. Who would follow a guy like that?"
"There’s always sickos," said Eli. "Maybe people he met in the prison?"
"Nah, he hates sinners," I said. "He mentioned the Dark. Called it his."
"From back in his pit, I guess," said Eli. We both looked at each other.
"Shit," I said. "He’s going back to the spot where he got busted out."
"He wouldn’t let those things loose, would he?" said Eli. "I mean, he’s supposed to be in charge of their torment or whatever. He wouldn’t just set them loose, right? I mean, how many people died when one Dark escaped? That’s one, a single Dark. How many could he have in one pit?"
I shoved the shotgun toward him butt-first. "I don’t want to find out," I said. I started the car and gunned it. The car’s back wheels spun before gaining traction and lurching forward. As we sped by I saw the red lights of the Deep Blue Sea, but there was no time. We would have to do this without Sam. It was our job.
Chapter Nineteen
It was amazing we didn’t get pulled over. I leadfooted it all the way through the city. It was like a ghost town this time of night. The stoplights blinked, suggesting people stop, but I didn’t. I blazed through every single one. We raced through the downtown business district, nearly hitting an old monument while cutting around a corner. By the time we reached the barricades, Gage’s car was issuing some complaints. It died a block from the spot Alexei Slobodian had broken the seal, the engine light coming on in silent protest as the car lurched to a stop.
We left Gage in the backseat and hopped out. Eli tossed me the shotgun and we ran the last block. The police tape was still up, but the coffee-drinking patrolman was gone. The silhouette of Abaddon stood in sharp relief under the cockeyed streetlight. Despite being bent at an angle the thing still worked. There was another glow coming from the abyss in the middle of the street. Abaddon had his back to us, but raised his head as we neared.
"It will be so easy, you know," he said out loud. "Most of the work is done for me. All I have to do is call them."
"Them?" I said, easing forward, not wanting to spook him. I only had two chances, I was going to have to make them good.
"They are like my children," he said. "Lost. Insane, most of them, but obedient. They are Abnormal in the best way."
Eli trained his gun on the demon.
"You should know, lawkeeper, that your gun won’t work on me. My body will heal itself." He touched his face with a shaky hand, wincing when he made contact. "This, however, the little one will pay for. I have a hell-beast in my pit that has fangs on his genitals. I think I’ll assign him to your demise." There was satisfaction in his voice. "Slowly."
I raised the shotgun. "I can’t let you call them," I said. "Not without a fight."
"Again with your guns, little one," he said turning toward the sound of my voice. "You’re kicking the dead is what you’re doing." He took a step. I took one toward him. Eli put a cautioning hand on my arm, which I shook off. I took another step. This was the time. The exact right time. I put my finger on the trigger.
"You’re too close," hissed Eli. "Shoot him or back away."
"By all means," said Abaddon. "Shoot me if it makes you happy. It will be the last thing you do."
I took a breath. I really hoped this would work. At that instant, though, I realized Eli wasn’t beside me. He was in front of me. He was an inch away from Abaddon with his Glock pressed against the demon’s neck.
"Eli," I said. "Get the hell out of the way, he’s going to rip you apart." Abaddon was smiling again. Good things never followed when that happened.
"Tell me who my father is before you go," said Eli, pressing the Glock harder. "Is it you?"
"Don’t make me laugh," said Abaddon. "I don’t care who your father is. And in a moment you won’t care either. You’ll be dead. Maybe you’ll be in my pit. Wouldn’t that be something?" Abaddon made a quick movement with his arm and Eli gasped. He pulled the trigger on his gun until he fell to the ground. There was a stain on the front of him, a dark stain that was spreading. The demon’s hand glistened.
"Soon I will be eating his heart," said the demon. "But I think yours will taste even better. I will soon have your heart in my hand. Hot and succulent. Delicious."
I stared at Eli. He had to be dead. There was no way he could survive that sort of injury and the loss of that much blood. He was twitching but his eyes stared ahead, flat and glassy. I looked slowly back at the demon, shock muddying my reaction. Eli couldn’t be dead.
The demon had a cut in his neck. He touched it and licked his finger. "He did draw blood," he said. "I applaud him for that." There was a tinkling sound as the wound spat out Eli’s bullets. I raised the shotgun. Abaddon sighed. "You’re not really going to try again, are you? This is just tiresome."
"If at first you don’t succeed," I said. I pulled the trigger for the first barrel. Abaddon’s face turned from smugness to stupification. He shook. He put a hand to his neck, where Eli’s close-range shooting had made a cut. It was now a mass of steam and melted flesh and blood running down the demon’s chest, shining rivulets that dripped dark-on-dark on the street. He tried to suck in air, but the air wasn’t making it into his body. Abaddon clamped his hands over his neck, trying to stop the putrefaction that had made such an impact on the unbreakable demon.
"I can still call them," echoed his voice in my head. But the voice wasn’t strong and dominating as it had been before. It was weak and scared.
I walked closer to the demon and leveled the shotgun at the wound in his neck. He tilted his head back, avoiding the barrel like he had the ghosts. I had a good angle and point-blank range. I glanced at Eli at my feet. He had stopped twitching and lay still, his eyes closed. I looked at Abaddon, his sightless eyes looking toward the sky, his throat a bubbling mess. The salt was eating through him as if he were a garden snail. I narrowed my eyes. All the pity was gone. I felt cold all over. I wondered if this was how Sasha felt.
The demon gurgled. I curled my finger around the trigger and pulled. With a deafening shot, the rock salt and shot unloaded up through his neck and into his head. He froze, his body rigid. Then Abaddon toppled over backward and fell to the ground, flopping and steaming until he lay still. I dropped the shotgun and it clattered on the asphalt. I sat down hard next to Eli.
Eli was gone. I looked at him. He was really gone. His eyes were closed and his face was relaxed. He could have been sleeping. Suddenly he heaved a breath. I was on him in a moment, I felt for his pulse. It was weak but it was there.
"Jesus, what’d I miss?" said a voice.
"Gage," I gasped. "Bobby, please. Dial 911. Get an ambulance. Hurry. Eli’s alive."
"He can’t be alive," said a familiar voice in my ear. "I killed him good and dead."
I looked up into the now-seeing, but very dead eyes of the spirit of Abaddon. "Guess that makes you terrible at your job," I said. "Besides, don’t you have to get to Hell? I’m sure there’s going to be a lot of fighting over who gets to torture you."
Abaddon’s face fell. He looked behind him at his body. "No," he said, shaking his head. "No, that can’t be right. I can’t be dead. I am Abaddon, a demon lord. No one can kill me. I am invincible."
"Well," I said, "you’re also dead." He backed away, and there was a swirling around him. And even as he continued to shake his head he disappeared. So at least I knew some spirits were crossing over.
"They’re on their way," Gage bellowed from the car. "The ambulance is coming."
I closed my eyes and let out my breath.
Gage ran over to me and crouched down next to Eli. "Where’s the wound?" he said. He was lifting up Eli’s shirt and looking for the source of all the blood. "There’s nothing here," he said. "Where is he hurt?"
I looked. There was dried blood on Eli’s stomach, and a large scar the size of a baseball, but no wound. "I saw it, though," I said. "Abaddon did something to him. He was dead. Or almost dead." I frowned. The streetlight caught some shiny lines on Eli’s belly and chest in the light. More scars. Older and almost healed, some of them. But there were so many. I lifted the shirt on the sides around Eli’s ribs. There was a wide jagged line all down his right side, scarred over from a violent abrasion.
"Jesus," said Gage. "Guy has a lot of scars."
"No," I said, shaking my head. "He doesn’t. I mean, he didn’t. These...these are all less than a year old. When we were together, the biggest scar Eli had was on his thumb from a kitchen accident."
"How’d he get so many?" said Gage. There was no argument in his voice, he was really asking the question.
Eli coughed and rolled over on his side. He instinctively pushed his shirt down as he sat up. He stopped coughing, then seemed to finally notice us staring at him.
"Oh," he said. He rubbed his belly where the newest scar had formed. "I guess I have some explaining to do."
"You bet your ass you do," I said.
I felt something cold fall on my face. I looked up at the sky. It
had started to snow. Fat flakes fell, melting where they landed only to be replaced by another.
"I love snow," said Gage. "Hope it sticks."
So it was like this.
Eli started taking risks at work. Stepped in front of guns, jumped from insane heights when trailing suspects. He got hurt, bad sometimes. But he never died, so he kept pushing his limits, testing how far he could go. He formed scars, but they healed quick. Then his horns started growing.
"What your dad said, though," said Eli from the back seat. "Nothing could kill him but cancer, right?"
"Right," I said. I was riding shotgun, and the now-well-rested Gage was driving. Gage had muttered something and the New Yorker started right up. We were headed to the Deep Blue Sea.
"So, what if he was, you know, like me?"
"You think Slobodian had the same healing powers?" said Gage.
"Yeah," said Eli. "Think about it. Guys like him don’t live so long. Naz only survived because he was a coward and ran away. But how many times has your dad been hurt, shot, or worse?"
"No idea," I said. "From the times I’ve seen him, lots."
"Exactly," said Eli. "Niki, what if your dad survived tonight?"
"Survived?" I said. "He got sucked into Hell."
"Yeah, but what happens to the living when they go to Hell? Has that ever even happened before with a human?"
"I don’t know," I said.
"Sam will know," said Gage.
Chapter Twenty
"Of course he’s alive," said Sam. "Why wouldn’t he be?"
"Because it’s Hell," I said. "Just a suggestion, but isn’t that the point of the place?"
"Not a bit," said Sam. "Hell is for the already-dead. Not the living. With your father’s summoning abilities, I would imagine he’ll acquire quite a reputation."
"Well, it doesn’t matter," I said. "He’s dying. He has cancer."
Sam shrugged. "Strange things happen in Hell. We’ll just have to wait and see."
