It Happened One Doomsday

by Laurence MacNaughton

  Dru scanned the garage. There was just so much stuff here, she wasn’t sure where to begin. Then she remembered the glowing glyphs.

  “Hey, you saw the scales symbol he had on his hands? I know I’ve seen that before. I need my books.” Dru whipped out her phone and set down her purse. “I’m calling Opal. Executive decision.”

  Rane snorted. “Whatever. It’s your party. You can invite your employee if you want.”

  “Opal’s not just an employee,” Dru said. “She’s a good friend.”

  Rane waved her off and started rifling through toolboxes.

  Opal answered on the third ring, speaking loud enough that Rane probably heard her. “You know I only work for you in the daytime, right?”

  “Hi, Opal.” Dru ignored Rane’s sudden smirk. “Listen, we’re in big trouble here.”

  “You find the demon?”

  “That’s the problem. If I’m going to save him, I need more crystals. Like right now. And you’re my only hope.”

  Opal let out a long, frustrated sigh. “Only hope, huh? I was afraid you were gonna play that card. Now I’ve got to be there for you.” With a hint of suspicion, she added, “Where is there, anyway?”

  “Greyson’s place.”

  “I was afraid of that, too.”

  Rane cupped her hands around her mouth. “Girls’ night out at the demon house, Opal. When this is all over, we need beer. Lots. So bring it.”

  “Girls’ night?” Opal repeated. “You think it’s safe to give that girl alcohol?”

  “Absolutely not,” Dru said. “Look, we’re trying to find whatever kind of cursed artifact has been afflicting Greyson. It’d be a lot easier if I had a ulexite crystal to see through. Or optical calcite.”

  “And you want me to go down to the shop and bring your stuff over.” It wasn’t a question.

  Dru cringed, just a little. “And I need some books, too. There’s a thick hardcover on demon idols by Lafayette on the back shelf. And I need the one by Tristram about banishing spirits. Plus the Stanislaus journals, the ones with the padlocks on them.”

  “Hold on, hold on,” Opal muttered. “I gotta write this all down. Good thing I’m not busy or anything.”

  Dru was thinking too fast to fully catch the sarcasm. “And the blue parts bins in the corner beneath the giant amethyst? The ones with all the slide-out trays? Bring those, too.”

  “Which ones?”

  “All of them. I need everything.” Her phone beeped. She looked at the screen.

  It was Nate. Calling from home.

  Her heart leaped with hope, and simultaneously a jolt of anxiety shot through her. “Gotta go. Thank you so much. Hurry. But no beer.” She switched over to Nate. “Honey, are you okay? Sorry I took your car. It was an emergency.”

  “I’m fine.” There was a coldness in his voice that had never been there before. It sent a sudden icy spike of worry up her spine.

  “Um, do you want your car back? I could come pick you up.” She peered over at Greyson. Still unconscious. “In a little while.”

  “No,” he said. “Just pick me up at the airport when I get back from New York.”

  “New York?”

  “Yes, New York,” he snapped. “It’s the only chance I have to salvage things with the Zubriggen twins.”

  “What about the dinner?” But she already knew the answer. Dinner had been an utter fiasco. She tried to sound positive. “You prepared all of those reports, right? All the financial documents? Once they read those, they’ll know your practice is a great investment.”

  Nate let out a deep, soul-searching sigh. “On paper, yes. But that doesn’t matter. When you’re investing in a business, Dru, you’re investing in the people, too. You want to put your money behind people who are stable. Growth-oriented. People who have it together.”

  She hung her head. “Sorry about all of the drama tonight.”

  “Drama?” Nate made an inarticulate choking sound. “The whole reason I had you there at the restaurant was to show the investors that you and I are a happy, stable, professional couple.”

  Dru swallowed. “So, well . . . are we?”

  “Are we what?”

  “Any of those things?”

  Nate paused. Then with an edge, he said, “What are you saying?”

  Dru took a deep breath and watched Rane tear up the garage while Greyson, scaly-skinned and horned, slumped in his chains, unconscious. “I tried to warn you, Nate. I tried to explain exactly what was going on. Weird as it all sounds, I know, it was an emergency. I just needed you to listen to me.”

  She wasn’t just talking about tonight, she knew. He’d never taken her work seriously, and it kept getting tougher to put a lid on her frustration.

  She paced and bumped into a shelf full of junk. A can of black spray paint fell onto her head with a painful jab. She grabbed the can and slammed it back on the shelf.

  Nate stayed silent, and she could picture him trying to sort everything out. As angry as she was, her heart ached for him. Nearly getting choked to death by a demon couldn’t be easy for anyone to process, especially someone who steadfastly refused to believe in the supernatural.

  “Look, I really am sorry,” she said. “How’s your throat?”

  “Is this what you do?” He threw it out like an accusation. “Down in your little shop?”

  “What you saw, what attacked you, that was real,” she said as neutrally as she could. It was also entirely his fault, though now would be the wrong time to point that out, she decided.

  “It’s like I don’t even know you,” he said. “The real you.”

  “I’m not hiding anything,” she said.

  Just then, a resounding crash nearby made her jump. Her eyes instantly went to the demon, but he was still unconscious.

  She looked around the garage, suddenly panicked to realize that Rane was nowhere to be seen. A door in the corner hung open, lights on inside, revealing the edge of a living room beyond, with a ratty couch and an aging lamp.

  Rane poked her head through the doorway. “Sorry. Thought there was a secret door back here.” Her head disappeared. “Guess not.”

  “Listen, we should talk,” Dru said to Nate. “Maybe if I come over later?”

  “No. Not after all this.”

  That cut deep. Tears stung the corners of her eyes. “How is any of this my fault? Why are you blaming me?”

  “Look.” He hesitated. “I don’t want to talk. I’ve got to go.”

  “Wait, just wait one second. Okay?”

  “I’m getting back the day after tomorrow. Pick me up at the airport, if you want to talk.”

  “Just let me deal with this situation here, and I’ll call—”

  “No. Don’t call me.” He let out a long, quavering breath. “I think you and I need to take a break.”

  She couldn’t speak. The words died in her throat, leaving her choking, as if she couldn’t get any air through.

  “As a matter of fact, forget about the airport. I’ll take a cab.”

  “Nate, I—”

  But he’d already hung up.

  Dru stared at the phone, and a gaping chasm of pain opened up inside her. She sagged against the cold concrete wall.

  An intense pressure built up in her chest, making her feel like she would explode. But there was no way to release the pressure, and it just became a pounding pain that squeezed out all of her breath.

  Rane stomped back into the garage, dusting off her hands. “Rest of the house looks clean. At least to me.” She scanned the garage. “I don’t see anything that screams ‘insidious demon artifact.’ Totally normal. Except, where are all the chickie posters?”

  Still holding the phone because she didn’t want to put it away and accept that the conversation was actually over, Dru gave Rane a blank look. “What?”

  “Chickie posters. You know.” Rane picked up a giant black crowbar and struck a pose, head tilted back, lips pursed, chest pushed out. Then she shrugged and tossed the crowbar aside. It c
langed to the floor. “Seems like every serious garage has those posters all over. But nothing here.”

  “Maybe Greyson’s just a classy guy,” Dru answered absently. She almost dialed Nate back. She held her finger poised over the phone. But she couldn’t touch the screen, as if it had suddenly gone toxic, coated with some kind of poison that would surely kill her. Her eyes filled with hot tears, and she squeezed them shut.

  “Holy shit,” Rane said and crossed the garage to Dru. “Did Nate just dump you?”

  “N-no.” Dru tried as hard as she could not to cry, but tears were already streaming down her face. “We’re just . . . taking a break. I guess.”

  Rane blew out a breath but didn’t say anything.

  In the corner, chains clinked. A low, wet groan shuddered through the garage. The sound evoked some primal fear in Dru that she couldn’t name. Her scalp tingled.

  Slowly, the demon raised his horned head and gave them a red-hot glare.

  Dru quickly wiped away the tears.

  The demon drew in a deep breath and roared, an almost physical sound that thudded through Dru’s chest. Muscles rippling, he strained at the chains wrapped around him. They clinked and screeched as the metal links stretched taut to their limit.

  Unfazed, Rane stalked around the demon and picked up the black steel crowbar like a club. With a metallic scrape, her hand and arm transformed into the dark shiny steel of the crowbar, quickly followed by the rest of her body.

  She marched over to stand before the demon, stance wide, ready to strike. Rane was so much of a weapon herself that the crowbar seemed unnecessary. She turned her black steel face toward Dru. “That demon artifact? Better find it quick, before he gets loose.”

  The demon grunted, showing razor-sharp teeth, and his burning eyes opened wider.

  Dru followed his gaze to the black car. The answer was so obvious she was shocked she hadn’t seen it before.

  “Oh, God,” she breathed. “We didn’t check the car. Could be in the trunk.”

  The demon threw back its head and howled, loud enough to pierce Dru’s ears. As if it was conjuring something up from the pits of hell.

  As the howl faded to a guttural moan, the black car coughed and rumbled to life. Twin lights flared on its nose, like the gleaming eyes of a poisonous insect.

  Dru stared through the windshield at the driver’s seat. There was no one behind the wheel.

  The car’s headlights flipped open, two on each side, burning like rising suns, blinding in their intensity. Dru threw up her hands to ward off the hellish glare.

  Tires spun, spewing twin plumes of white smoke. An unholy screeching filled the garage, warbling through the air.

  The evil artifact wasn’t in the car, Dru realized too late.

  It was the car.

  With a lurch, the possessed car launched itself straight at Dru.

  14

  HEAT OF THE MOMENT

  “Dru!” Rane shouted.

  But Dru couldn’t move. Sudden fear rendered her feet too heavy to lift. She stayed anchored to the spot.

  The black car roared at her, brilliant headlights burning in her vision. She braced for the impact.

  Just before the car reached her, Rane shoved Dru aside, sending her tumbling away across the concrete floor.

  The car hit Rane in the legs with a sickening crunch of metal. She fell onto the hood, and it rammed her lower legs into the concrete wall.

  The car pulled back, its front end mashed.

  Rane, her metal face twisted in pain, slid off the hood onto the floor.

  The car surged forward again. Rane sat up, struggling to escape, but the nose of the car pinned her torso against the concrete wall. Its crushed snout crumpled around her chest as if trying to devour her. The engine revved, spinning the tires into a frenzy, filling the garage with the acrid white smoke of burning rubber.

  Across the garage, the demon threw back his head and howled, a gut-clenching sound.

  Transfixed by horror, Dru stared at the reflection of the red glow seeping from beneath the car’s slightly open hood.

  She blinked. The red glow hadn’t been there before the demon howled.

  And it was the same fiery hue as the glyphs on the demon’s hands.

  With no time to formulate anything like a plan, Dru scrambled over to the car’s fender, dug her fingers under the edge of the open hood, and lifted. The metal thrummed in her hands, vibrating with the relentless force of the engine.

  In the ruddy glow, she saw all of the familiar but nameless parts of an engine she expected: spinning belts, twisting hoses, chrome gleaming with an unholy light. But it was the light itself that captured her attention.

  On the underside of the hood glowed a pair of stylized scales. Just like the symbols on the demon’s hands.

  This was the connection, she realized with a surge of terrified triumph. This was the mark of evil, as rough as it was. It looked like someone had spray-painted it right onto the metal. If only she could find a way to break it.

  Spray paint. The thought hit her with a jolt of adrenaline.

  She launched herself across the garage and grabbed the can of black spray paint that had knocked her on the head earlier. She struggled to get the plastic cap off. It wouldn’t budge.

  Rane’s terrified gaze caught Dru’s and held it. Her mouth worked, trying to choke out words, but nothing came out.

  “Hold on!” Dru yelled, running back to the car. With a grunt, she hammered the top of the spray can against the black car’s fender. The plastic top flew off into the shadows.

  Dru lifted the hood again and let loose a stream of black paint over the burning symbol.

  The glow faded beneath the fresh paint, but surged back like a raging fire beneath a trickle of water.

  She held down the spray top until her finger went cold and numb, filling the air with choking paint fumes. She kept spraying until the paint dripped and ran.

  Die, she thought to it with every ounce of strength she could muster. Die!

  The glow faded, but not completely. It remained, ruddy and faint. Still glowing.

  Yet the tires slowed and stopped spinning. The engine dropped from a screaming race down to a thudding idle.

  And then the paint ran out.

  “No!” Dru whispered, shaking the rattling can. “No, no, no!” The paint came out in spurts and puffs, then died into silence. She tossed the can aside and shook out her numb finger.

  “Neutral,” Rane gasped. “Gear. Shift.”

  Dru stared at Rane. Gear shift. Of course.

  The car door was locked, but the window was rolled down. Dru leaned in, practically crawling into the car, and grabbed the white knob of the gear shift where it sat on its long chrome shaft between the seats.

  She wasn’t sure how to shift it, so she pulled in every direction, without success. “Stupid thing. Let. Her. Go!” With a sudden jolt, the shifter moved.

  The engine kicked up a notch, but the car began a slow roll backward. Dru scrambled back out of the window.

  Rane, teeth gritted, pushed the car away from her. It inched back a little faster.

  When the gap was wide enough, Dru took Rane’s arm and, with strength she didn’t know she had, dragged her out into the open. In metal form, the woman weighed as much as a refrigerator. Maybe more.

  With a tortured screech of metal, the car’s nose unwrinkled and smoothed itself out. The cracks disappeared from its headlights. They straightened and brightened.

  As Dru watched, the front of the car became a flawless expanse of black metal. Then the headlights drooped closed, and the engine whined like an exhausted animal.

  The glow from under the hood faded away. Without it, the engine guttered and died. For the moment, at least, it seemed the spray paint had worked.

  In the far corner, the demon’s chains sang like a chorus as he tried to break free, the metal links ringing out in unholy unison with each tug against the metal I-beam that held him prisoner.

  Dru racked he
r brain for some way to knock the demon out again. But Rane was in no condition to fight. And without any crystals, there was nothing Dru could do.

  The demon’s muscles bulged as he twisted around, trying to change positions. The burning scales on his hands glowed red, then orange, and finally white-hot. The sizzling heat scorched the chains until they started to break apart.

  He grinned, showing rows of shining knifelike teeth.

  Dru’s breath caught in her throat. In moments, the demon would be free. There was nothing she could do to prevent it.

  “Rane, we’ve got to run.” Dru shook Rane but got no response.

  She was passed out on the floor, worn out from too much magic. Gradually, her body turned human again. Dru knew from experience that Rane would recover in a few minutes, but that was time they didn’t have.

  The last of the chains gave way with a ping. With a roar, the demon surged to his hoofed feet. His glowing magma gaze found Dru, and he bared his fangs.

  Every instinct told Dru to run, but she stood guard over Rane.

  Chest swelling, the demon tugged at the last chains still draped over his shoulders. They slithered to the floor with a metallic whisper.

  The demon stepped over the chains. One step, then another, striding directly toward Dru. He stared down at her with inhuman intensity, his fiery gaze unblinking.

  “Greyson,” she said, trying to keep her voice from shaking. “I know you can hear me.” She prayed she was right.

  Something in the demon’s face softened at the sound of her voice, and the tension went out of his fists.

  “Greyson, it’s me. Dru.”

  He cocked his head, as if struggling to remember her from the distant past.

  She could barely make out a trace of Greyson in there, somewhere. Deep inside the demon.

  She took a tentative step toward him. When he didn’t react with anything more than a blink, she took another step.

  A sound rumbled from deep inside the demon. Maybe a word. Maybe her name. But it couldn’t survive the journey through the demon’s thick throat and rows of teeth. It came out as nothing more than a growl.