by J. R. Mabry
“Seven a.m. and seven p.m.”
“Okay, so it’s not a prison island, at least,” Susan nodded grimly. “Just…protected.”
“Yup. At least until we figure out what’s going on.”
“Oh. Well, we definitely need to talk to your mayor then. Because we know exactly what’s going on.”
It was Casey’s turn for wide eyes. “You do?”
“Oh, yeah. You may not believe it, and you sure won’t like it, but…yeah.”
“Well then, let’s go,” Casey said.
“But Dylan—”
“Dylan is gonna be waited on hand and foot while he sips his morphine cocktail. Dylan is goooood.”
“Ah’m goooood,” Dylan repeated, so relaxed that his Melungeon face seemed flatter than usual.
“Are you sure you don’t mind, honey?” Susan said.
“Ah’ll miss ya, but…Ah miss mah eye, too.”
“I’m…not seeing the analogy.”
“Things is what they is.”
“Doubtless,” Susan agreed. “You know you’re not really making sense, right?”
“But Ah love ya,” Dylan affirmed.
She kissed his cheek, right under his good eye. “I love you, too.”
44
It took almost an hour to reach the Outer Sunset district by Muni and bus. As they stepped off the bus and onto the pavement, Mikael looked at his 511 app and pointed down a side street. They only brought one kit bag with them on the bus, and Kat lowered it to the ground with a groan. “I’ve been here before,” Kat said. “But we drove. I’m completely lost.”
“We’re almost there.”
“Are you mad at me?” Kat asked.
Mikael stopped. He studied her face but wasn’t sure what her expression meant. “Of course not. Why would I be mad at you?”
“I don’t know. You’re awfully quiet. And…I guess I’m just oversensitive, since everyone seems to be so mad all of the sudden.”
“No. I’m just…scared.”
“That’s fair.” She held his hand and gave it a squeeze. He squeezed back and gave her a grim smile.
“Hey,” he said. “Do you think this is a job for…the Confessor?”
She narrowed one eye at him. “Are you fucking with me?”
“No, I think—”
“Luna is our friend,” Kat said. “She’ll know in a heartbeat that it’s you. So what good will the mask do?”
“But—”
“Honey,” Kat said, pressing his hand. “I love you, but this whole Confessor thing…it’s ridiculous. It’s embarrassing.”
Mikael looked at his shoes. “I don’t want you to be embarrassed of me.”
“I don’t either,” she said. “So let’s just lose the mask, okay?”
“I’m not making promises for the future.”
Kat rolled her eyes. “Mikael, it’s stupid. It’s just some pre-adolescent superhero wish fulfillment.”
“You don’t need to pathologize it—”
“I do if it’s pathological.”
Mikael held his hands up to stop her and closed his eyes to stop himself. “We’re fighting.”
“We made a covenant.”
“We did.”
Kat threw her arms around his waist. “Sorry, honey.”
“It’s okay.”
“It’s still stupid.”
“You’re not helping.”
Kat released him. “Which way?”
“This way,” he said and turned again, this time into an alley.
Mikael could see her studying his face, maybe trying to figure out if she had hurt his feelings. He didn’t let on.
“This looks familiar,” she said. “Here.” She walked up to a door.
“Nope,” Mikael said. He kept walking.
“But—”
“Here,” he said, pointing at a door set just beside an open-air garage.
Kat walked over uncertainly and looked at the door. Then she looked back at the previous one. “They look exactly the same. Are you sure?”
“Of course I’m sure.”
“Don’t say ‘of course’ like that, it’s insulting.” Kat narrowed her eyes.
“I wasn’t insulting you, that just wasn’t the right house!”
“And you know that how?”
“Because I’ve been here before.”
“So have I!”
“Go ahead and knock on the damn door over there. I’ll wait here while you apologize.”
“We’re doing it again, aren’t we?”
Mikael deflated. “Yeah. We never do this.” He looked up. “Whatever is going on up there, it’s some powerful mojo.”
“You’re sure this is the right house?”
“Yes. Sorry, but yes.”
She shrugged. “Okay, let’s do this.”
Mikael knocked on the door. They waited. About a minute later, they heard clomping on the stairs. “Who is it?” came a voice. Luna’s voice.
“Luna, it’s Kat. And Mikael. We want to talk to you.”
“Go away.”
“We’re not going to go away. We’re going to pound on your door every minute for the next forty-eight hours. And when your neighbors complain, we’re going to tell them you’re cooking meth. And when you call the police, we’re going to tell them you have something to do with what’s happening in Oakland.”
The door swung open suddenly. “I don’t have anything to do with what’s going on in Oakland!” she snapped.
“Good,” Kat pushed past her and started up the stairs. “Let’s talk about that.”
“Hey!” Luna protested, following her. Mikael entered, too, and shut the door behind him. He was impressed by Kat’s boldness, as he often was.
At the top of the stairs, he followed them into a minuscule living room, with a kitchenette on one side. Luna put a teapot on to boil, but her actions were jerky, petulant. “You didn’t need to follow me here.”
“We kinda did,” Kat said.
Mikael sat unobtrusively on the couch, and reaching into his cassock, clutched at the Talisman of Amitiel hanging around from his neck by a leather thong. The Talisman had been a gift from Prestor John just a few months ago. By feeling its temperature, Mikael could tell if anyone were telling the truth or not.
“Why did you run out on Terry and Marco? At Jimmy’s house?” Kat asked.
Luna froze. “I…don’t know. I felt scared. So I just…came home.”
The Talisman stayed warm. Kat caught his eye. He nodded. She continued. “We think that whatever is going on in the East Bay is…it’s being caused by a lodge of black magickians. Do you know any of the guys from the Lodge of the Hawk and Serpent?”
“Hell no!” Luna pulled the kettle off as it began to sputter. “Do I look like I hang out with skanky vermin like that?”
The Talisman was warm. Kat looked at him. He nodded. Kat frowned.
“Have any of them contacted you?”
“No!” she slammed the tea kettle down on the stove. “Why do you think I’m involved with them?”
Kat looked at Mikael. He nodded.
“Because they have unleashed demon magick all over the East Bay. And you’re being oppressed by a demon now.”
Luna turned to face her, her jaw tight with anger. “How dare you. I don’t even believe in demons.”
“You don’t have to believe in viruses to catch a cold,” Mikael offered. “But it’s true. You’re not possessed, but you’re being oppressed. We can help.”
“I don’t want your help,” Luna turned away again.
The Talisman went cold. Mikael shook his head.
“Yes, you do. You’re just too stubborn to admit it,” Kat said, opening the kit bag and pulling out her liturgy.
“I’ll make some holy water,” Mikael said, getting up. “Where is your salt?”
45
“Are you sure?” Richard asked.
“The dial is pointing right there—right fucking there!” Marco was emphatic.
“Do you think mayb
e it means something on the other side of it?” Richard asked.
“Let’s find out.” Marco went to the left, around the perimeter of the building. Tobias sniffed at the wind as they walked. Once they reached the other side, Marco checked the Liahona again. “It’s pointing this way, now.”
“Right at the police station.”
“Yep.”
Richard shook his head and sighed. “Okay. Let’s go. But first, let’s see if they made it.” Richard pulled out his cell phone and speed-dialed Dylan.
“Good idea,” Marco agreed.
Richard pulled the phone away from his head and tried again. He listened, but then shook his head. “No connection. Cell towers must be down.”
“Shit,” Marco said. “Well?”
“We may just have to trust God that they made it.”
“That’s your area of specialty, not mine.”
“Ready?” Richard asked. Marco nodded. “Let’s go then.” They marched back to the front of the building and headed toward the front doors.
“Hold it right there,” called a not-too-distant voice.
Richard and Marco froze. Tobias whined and circled around Richard. Richard looked up, hoping to find the voice’s owner. A man on the roof appeared to have a high-powered rifle cozied into his armpit. The scope was trained directly at them.
“Not moving,” Richard said.
“State your business,” called the shooter.
“We can’t say we’re on a mission from God,” Marco whispered. “That’s been done.”
“What was the name of those detectives?” Richard whispered back. “Cain and…”
“Perry?”
“That was it.”
“We’re here to see Detectives Cain and Perry. We have information about a case they’re working on. Urgent information.”
“Are you armed?”
“Only with love,” Marco smiled up at him.
“Check the love and whatever weapons you might have at the door,” the voice called. “Go on in.”
“Including the dog?” Richard called.
“Why not?” answered the man.
Just inside the door they found weapons trained on them again, with very much the same exchange. Once they mentioned Cain and Perry, however, their interrogators softened. “Oh, they’re here. Down the hall, third room on the left.”
“Thanks,” Richard said.
“Gotta pat you down, though,” said the guard.
“I would think less of you if you didn’t,” Marco said.
The guard ran his hands over Marco’s clothes, but didn’t quite know where to start with Richard’s cassock. He pulled open the velcro holding the flaps at each side and slipped it off. The guard went through it quickly, then ran his hands over Richard’s jeans and t-shirt. “Be sure you check Toby, too,” Richard pointed at the dog.
“I’ll skip the dog.”
Richard pulled his cassock back on and they proceeded down the corridor. It was a lively place. Computer screens and televisions were lit up in every room they passed. There seemed to be much discussion but little action that they could see. Several rooms looked like they were occupied by families. Blankets were spread out on the floor and several children were playing, arguing, or napping. They squealed in delight and pointed at Tobias.
“Officer’s families?” Richard asked.
“If I were them, that’s what I would do,” Marco answered.
“Me too. This is probably the safest place in Berkeley right now.”
“Unless someone paints the sigil of a wrath demon on the side of the building,” Marco countered.
“But no one has,” Richard answered. “Yet. Thank God. And I doubt they will. The whole East Bay has become too dangerous for the Lodge—or whoever is behind this—to come back into it. They’ve got to do their work on the edge of the wave they’re making. They leave chaos in their wake but they never go back.”
“You sure about that?”
“No. But that’s how I’d do it.”
“But you wouldn’t do it,” Marco said.
“No.”
“Rationality doesn’t seem to really be their long suit.”
“No.” Richard agreed.
They reached the door to the third room, and Richard considered knocking. “Don’t knock,” Marco said. “No one will hear you. It’s a madhouse in there. Let’s just go in.”
Richard nodded and pulled the door open, and the noise hit them in a wave. It had never occurred to Richard how loud a squad room at full tilt could get. He held the door for Marco and then Tobias.
Richard saw Perry first and pointed. They circumambulated several desks and made their way over to where Perry was studying a computer screen. She looked up and jumped a bit in her seat. “Jesus! Just sneak up on a girl!”
“Um…not sneakin’, just walkin’,” Marco said. He flashed her his most appealing smile.
She looked from one of them to the other. “Aaaand you brought your dog. Wonderful. You know, we’re kind of busy around here. What can I do for you?”
Richard shrugged. “We’re not sure. We…” he was going to say, We asked God where we should go and he told us to come here, but when he rehearsed it, it sounded a little crazy. Then he had an idea. “We know how to stop what’s happening, so we thought we’d coordinate our efforts with you. We can train your officers in sigil removal, then we can systematically—”
“We don’t have the manpower for anything but maintaining this building,” Perry said. “We fended off two attacks yesterday.”
“Then why didn’t you shoot us on sight when we approached?” Marco asked.
“Because the real danger is the horde. You’re not a horde.”
Tobias laid down and started licking his paws.
“How bad is it?” Richard asked.
“It’s spread through most of Berkeley. It seems to have stopped at Kensington. Nothing in the hills. On the other side of the Albany tunnel…nothing. El Cerrito, Richmond, they all seem clear.”
“That’s a relief,” Richard said. “At least there’s a perimeter.”
“Yep. National Guard are on the edges of it, too.”
“Wow,” Marco said.
Tobias turned onto his back and squirmed on the floor.
“You don’t think this qualifies as a national emergency?” Perry darted a look at him that could roast kielbasa.
“Believe me, no one is more convinced of that than us,” Richard said. “Please tell us how we can help you.”
“You’ll only be in the way, here. We can give you shelter enough to get yourselves together,” Perry said. “But then you’ll have to go.”
“Fair enough,” Richard said.
“Detective Perry!” a voice called.
“Just a minute,” she said, and walked over to consult with a uniformed officer.
“I don’t think the Liahona is wrong,” Marco said.
“You’ve got a lot of confidence in that thing.”
“It’s proving itself to me, yeah.”
“We’ve got a short reprieve. What should we do with it?”
“I think we haul up some demon ass and find out who’s really behind all this and why.”
“I’m pretty sure I’m clear on the who,” Richard said.
“But if you don’t know the why, you don’t really know how to fight it, do you?”
“No.” Richard admitted. “You’re right. I don’t know what their endgame is. And until I do—”
“You’re just putting out fires.”
“Right.”
“So let’s ask someone who knows.”
“This is on you, man,” Richard said.
“I know about your code,” Marco narrowed one eye at him. “I also know you break it sometimes.”
“I do not summon demons,” Richard’s voice was firm.
“I don’t either—normally.” Marco squirmed. “But sometimes you just gotta do what you gotta do.”
“And you’re sure you gotta do thi
s?”
“Aren’t you? Don’t you want to know?”
“More than anything,” Richard said. He could taste it.
“Then let’s get to it.”
Just then Perry came back to her desk. She sighed and moved a lock of hair out of her eyes. “You guys can clean up and rest, but you can’t do it here.”
“We have an investigation of our own,” Richard said. “And you might be interested in the results. But first we need something.”
“Oh, God. Why do I have the feeling I’m not going to like this?”
Cain wandered up. “Blackfriars,” he said, a weary smile on his lips. “I thought I smelled brimstone. Good to see you…alive.”
“He’s a Blackfriar,” Marco clarified. “I’m a roving inventor. And magickian.”
“Ooookay, sure,” Cain said. “Good to get that out in the open.”
“They say they’re conducting an investigation,” Perry said with audible impatience.
“What do you need?” Cain asked.
Perry flashed him a look.
“Do you have chalk?” Marco asked.
“I can scare up some chalk,” Cain assured him.
“We need an empty room,” Richard said. “Preferably in a basement.”
“Does it have to be big?” Cain asked.
“Cain,” Perry said, in a tone of voice that Richard took to mean, Don’t encourage them.
“About 12-foot square should do it,” Marco said.
Cain nodded. “Come with me.”
46
Terry held Chicken’s hand as one of the volunteers led them through the school gymnasium. They picked their way in between blankets and suitcases and brown shopping bags full of clothes and personal belongings. It reminded Terry of crossing the grass at the Greek Theater in search of a place to spread his own blanket. Finally, they reached a jagged border where the blankets stopped and bare linoleum began.
“This spot can be yours,” said the volunteer. She was about forty with deep black circles under her eyes. She was also bone thin, and Terry wondered if she was sick—really sick—but had rallied in order to pitch in. He put his own self-pity aside for a moment as he considered her plight.
“Thank you,” he said to her, and he meant it. “Um…I’m afraid we don’t have any blankets or pillows or anything.”
