The Demon Conspiracy

by R. L. Gemmill

  ***

  While I waited for the police to let us in the house, I studied the dozen or so crime-scene technicians who were on site. An FBI forensics team was working with the local police. FBI! Who brought them in? I tuned in to some of the thoughts and conversations around me, starting with two women working in the foyer.

  “It’s blood,” said a large woman taking samples off the floor. “I’m sure of it.”

  Another woman on the stairs leaned over her. “Black blood? What causes that?”

  “I don’t know. Could be something genetic.”

  “If that’s the case it’ll be unique DNA. These guys could be easy to track down.”

  Easy to track down? I thought to myself. She was tripping unless she knew something I didn’t.

  Across the yard I noticed two more technicians exploring the area in the woods around the drainage pipe that went under the road. They took photographs and made measurements and wrote stuff down in a notebook.

  “There’s no way that thing came through this pipe,” said one of the techs. “It was just too damn big.”

  “I’m with you. But the footprints lead right here and we’ve searched this area thoroughly. There’s not another print anywhere beyond this pipe entrance. Evidence shows the creature went inside.”

  “It would’ve had to slither like a snake to fit in there. Even then…I don’t know. Let’s take comparative measurements off the video when we get back. I want to know exactly how big that thing was.”

  Did he say video? I probed inside his mind. What video?

  The guy clearly thought his coworker had said it. “You know what video, the one the senator’s kid made with his cell phone. I saw it. Man, it was freaky.”

  “You talkin’ to me?” said the other tech, looking up surprised. “I saw it too, remember?”

  “Well, you asked like you didn’t know what I was talking about.”

  “I didn’t ask. I didn’t say anything at all.”

  While the men argued over who had spoken and who hadn’t, I got excited. Mathew had recorded what happened last night! Without trying to get anymore information from the police I sprinted over to Dr. Parrish’s house and knocked on the front door.

  About a minute passed before I heard footsteps inside. When Granny opened the door I rushed in and gave her a huge hug.

  “Granny!”

  “Hey, sweetie.” Granny hugged me back.

  Dr. Parrish came up behind Granny and patted my head. “Sorry I nearly burned you and your little friend up last night,” he said, laughing. “Who would have guessed demons liked fire so much?”

  I also hugged Parrish, which clearly surprised him. “Of course they like fire,” I said. “I mean they’re demons. Hey, is it true? Did Mathew make a video?”

  Granny and Parrish looked at each other. “That’s supposed to be top secret,” said Parrish sheepishly. “Who told you?”

  “I heard the police talking about it. What did it show?”

  “Well, it showed the damage on the house,” said Parrish as he went over what he remembered. “And it showed you, Angie and Melissa on the garage roof fighting those monsters. I think the FBI Agent in Charge was impressed with the way you guys held your own, at least until they outflanked you. The last thing on the video showed Angie getting picked up by your buddy with the claws.”

  “The big one’s name was Klawfinger. That’s what the others called him.” I clapped my hands excitedly. “This is great! We have proof! Now we can get the police to go back in the cave and get the camcorder! It’s got everything on it, even that salesman guy, Mr. Deel. He needs to be in jail, you know. He’s up to something.”

  “Yeah, maybe,” said Granny. “But you know how cops are.”

  I blinked up at her. I had no idea how cops were. I knew nothing about them.

  Granny tried to explain. “Well, er, they can be a little difficult to convince sometimes. Don’t expect them to go running down into the cave just because of a video.”

  “Let’s face it,” said Parrish. “They didn’t believe a word we said until Mathew took out his cell phone and showed them what he recorded. Smart kid, just like his daddy. That’s when the cops got serious. Once they figured out Mathew was Senator Dunlop’s son, they got real serious. Mathew gave the whole thing credibility.”

  “Mathew called his parents and told them everything,” said Granny. “Fifteen minutes later the FBI showed up and took over the investigation. About three hours ago the Dunlops came here all the way from Camp David and took Mathew and Travis home with ‘em. It was still dark and the boys couldn’t hold their eyes open. We figured they’d sleep most of the day at the Dunlop’s house and at least they’d be in a bed. I don’t know where they’d sleep around here.”

  “So who’s got the video? Do you? I want to see it!”

  Granny laughed. “You’ll never see that video, little girl, not since the FBI took Mathew’s phone. It’ll probably become top secret, like Area 51 and Bigfoot.”

  About then Angie showed up. She met both Granny and Parrish with a hug. “One of the contractors told me he could have us back in the house in two weeks, maybe less. That’ll give us time to get ready for Christmas. You won’t believe the security we’re going to have! The house will be like Fort Knox when they’re completely done. I just wish I could talk to Chris about the money we have to spend.”

  “What’s stopping you?” said Parrish.

  “Well, Dr. Sanderlyn and that mean nurse, of course. They told me not to call them, that they’d call me when it was time to see Chris.”

  “It’s been, what, a week since Chris went in there?” said Granny. “There must be some improvement. You should call anyway.”

  “I can’t,” said Angie, shaking her head. “Mom, they’re professionals! Besides, his nurse is kind of, well, she’s kind of scary.”

  “I could fix the nurse for ya,” said Granny.

  “I don’t want you beating up his staff.

  “Angie, this is utter bulldust! You just stood up to a whole host of demons to protect the ones you love. It’s on the video! If you ask me you need to give ol’ Doc Sanderlyn a call right now. Treat him like a demon—he’ll get the message. After all, you’re the one paying the bill. Tell him you need to see Chris immediately, no matter what condition he’s in. If you can stand up to demons, you can sure handle one old doctor.”

  The pep talk gave Angie some confidence. She raised her chin and pounded her fist into her palm. “You’re right, mom!” she said with firmness in her voice. “It’s time to find out about my husband!”

  38

  PADDED CELL

  DR. SANDERLYN

  Dr. Sanderlyn entered the padded cell in Ward A with more caution than usual. This was the cell where they kept Chris McCormick. Sanderlyn skimmed the background notes he had taken on McCormick when the police first brought him to Sunnyside. McCormick had survived an earthquake while inside a cave. He came out of the cave, utterly changed, according to his wife. He stopped going to work and stopped calling in sick. Dr. Sanderlyn thought the possibility was strong that Chris suffered from post traumatic stress syndrome. He read further. A few weeks later he invented Majik Juice. Then he had a breakdown and tried to go back into the cave. Sanderlyn shook his head. The entire scenario was a collection of strange and seemingly disconnected events. What kind of therapy could help that man?

  Admittedly McCormick’s case was unusual, but certainly not unprecedented. After some thorough research into this type of abrupt personality change Dr. Sanderlyn discovered a number of similar cases that had occurred over the last ninety years. A few of the earliest cases suggested demonic possession as a possible cause, but only after vague references to some “most unusual and unexplainable events.” Sanderlyn chalked those interpretations up to psychology still being a “fledgling” science at the time. The study of human behavior using true scientific investigative techniques was only just getting started way back then.

  No, thought Dr. Sanderlyn,
demonic possession was an excuse put forth by religious zealots and crackpots. Most likely Chris McCormick’s problem was a type of sudden onset paranoid schizophrenia, where the behavior just sort of kicked in. But why had it kicked in at all? What had happened in that cave that would make a man change so completely?

  Chris McCormick had no personal or family history of mental illness. It seemed to have come out of nowhere, almost as soon as he’d finished inventing that fruit drink. Even though he still had a full-time job as an English teacher at Chantilly High School, McCormick firmly believed he’d finished his work and needed to go live in a cave. Not just any cave, either. Pandora’s Cave, the one where he’d been trapped for many hours after the quake. Dr. Sanderlyn scanned the latest notes he’d taken and took up a metal stool that was always left outside the door. He put the stool in the center of the room and sat down.

  If McCormick really struggled and stretched his restraints to the max, he might be able to make it to within a few feet of the stool, but no closer. Just in case, Sanderlyn signaled to the powerfully built male orderly who’d come in behind him to take up a position not far away. No use chancing it with McCormick. They’d had problems with him already. The guy could be downright dangerous when he got upset.

  Sanderlyn studied his patient with experienced eyes. Chris lay on the padded floor curled into a ball. His upper body was tightly wrapped in a straight jacket, with light, metal chains to restrict his movement. Sanderlyn had treated hundreds of patients over the years and as a result he pretty well knew what to expect. Sure enough, Chris pretended to ignore him, like he always did. Some behavior patterns never changed. But Chris knew he was there, Sanderlyn was sure of it. He’d seen him twitch when the door opened.

  “Hello, Chris,” said Dr. Sanderlyn in his most professional, but tender voice. “How are you feeling today?”

  Chris kept his back to him while he responded. “I’m feeling like I need to go outside. I’d like to go to Crystal Creek Park for a visit.”

  “Crystal Creek Park again. Of course, this has nothing to do with going back into Pandora’s Cave, I presume.”

  Chris jerked around. He drew back his lips and snarled. “Of course it does! It has everything to do with going back into the cave! My work is done! The Boss wants me back! Let me go, you stupid human slug!”

  Dr. Sanderlyn drew back instinctively, but he tried not to show any fear or surprise. The orderly took a step forward, but the doctor waved him off. Chris was playing his control game again. Some patients were stronger than others and could hold out like this for weeks, even months. But science had ways of re-teaching normal behavior, even in such dangerous and deteriorated individuals as Chris. Sanderlyn offered his “carrot.”

  “What if I were to let you go back there? Just for a visit, mind you. Would you like that?”

  Chris looked at him wildly. “Of course! Take me now or I’ll rip off your arms and put them in my soup!”

  “Oh, it won’t be now. Not today anyway. There are papers to fill out and arrangements to make. But it’s not entirely out of the question, though I’ll need something from you first. It’s not much, really. If you help me a little, I’ll try to help you. What do you say?”

  Chris eyed him suspiciously, but nodded slightly. “Listening.”

  “I need you to answer some questions, that’s all. Honestly. A moment ago you called me human, as if you think of yourself as something other than human. Are you a god?”

  Chris flinched. “You’re such a fool! Let me go!”

  “You know I can’t do that unless you give me what I want.”

  “What do you want, you pathetic piece of walking, talking man-flesh?”

  Dr. Sanderlyn was taken aback. He had never been called that before, not even by Chris. “I want you to tell me why you just called me human. And I want to know specifically why you want to return to the cave. What’s there for you? How do you plan to live? Work with me, Chris, and I’ll arrange a trip to the park very soon.”

  Chris scowled at him. “You lie!” He rolled over and faced the wall again.

  Dr. Sanderlyn was about to try a new tactic when his cell phone vibrated. He usually ignored it when he was working with a patient, but this seemed like a good moment to take a break. He answered.

  “Yes?”

  “Dr. Sanderlyn, I have Mrs. McCormick on line two. She’s asking to see her husband again.”

  “Tell her he’s not ready to see anyone, especially her. I’ll try to arrange a visit around New Year’s, if she can be patient.”

  “Sir, this woman was easy to deal with a week ago. You’d better talk to her this time, she means business.”

  Dr. Sanderlyn considered the situation. Nurse Agnes was an absolute tyrant on the phone. She could frighten or manipulate almost anyone. Mrs. McCormick had been amiable and easily directed. Something must have happened that steeled her up. He punched a button on his cell phone and cleared his throat.

  “Hello, Mrs. McCormick. This is Dr. Sanderlyn. How can I help you today?”

  39

  DO YOU BELIEVE IN MONSTERS?

  KURT

  Donnivee had been grabbed by monsters. Who in the hell would believe a buncha wild crap, like that?

  Cops sure won’t.

  Kurt Lazarus sat on a rock at the edge of the Potomac River, thinking about it. Until two nights ago, he hadn’t believed in any of that weird, supernatural junk, not monsters, not ghosts, not even Santa Claus. His dad had told him, there was no such thing, and Kurt had always lived by that, even when he was very young. But dad was wrong. Maybe Santa was a fake, but monsters were real! It was upsetting as hell! For the first time in his life, Kurt needed to change the way he did things. He needed to clean up his act, and he had to do it right away, before the cops took him to jail.

  Kurt shuddered, remembering. It wasn’t like he’d totally wimped out, he’d tried to stop them. But that big red one, the one with the claws, had nearly ripped his head off. Sure, he’d looked for an edge, some weapon, or trick, he could use to get around Claw Boy, but Kurt had been outclassed. He simply couldn’t beat them. And when some of the other creatures changed their shape, right in front of him, and then disappeared into the drainage pipe, Kurt knew he couldn’t help Donnivee. Instead, he’d run all the way back to his car, a mile up the road from the McCormick’s house. He hadn’t run so far without a cigarette break since gym class.

  But cops wouldn’t listen to any of that. He was the last person to see Donnivee alive, that’s all they cared about. Without a doubt, they’d think he murdered her, and hid the body.

  Sure as hell, when she turns up missing, that wimp, Manson, will tell the cops I did it.

  He shook his head. What would his dad say, when the whole police force came down on him for murder? He could hear it now. But dad, it was monsters! His dad would probably punch him in the jaw. Yeah, he definitely had to clean up his act. He might be able to stay out of prison for the murder rap, as long as they couldn’t find any proof, like Donnivee’s body. But, if any of his other special activities went before the judge, well, he’d be off the streets for a very long time.

  He sniffed his armpits. Whew! He was rank, and no wonder. These were the same clothes he had during monster night. Oh, hell! Donnivee’s DNA and fingerprints were all over these clothes. He needed to get rid of them, quick. And he needed to clean up his car, too, but not before he made some life-changing decisions. It was time for Kurt Lazarus to grow up.

  Okay, he decided. No more selling drugs to grade-schoolers. In fact, he’d get out of the drug biz entirely, just to play it safe. He’d get a job with his dad’s company tomorrow, earn great money, and, for a change, actually work for it. Yeah, he could do that. Dad would like it, too.

  What else can I change?

  No more setting dumpsters on fire. And no more stealing cars. And no more beating up people, unless he had a good reason. He might have to stop hurting animals, too, but he’d wait and see on that.

  Most importantly,
no more hanging out with eighth grade girls. They caused all kinds of problems, and they were so whack! He’d call Maria Sanchez tonight, and see if she’d go out with him. Kurt hung his head. Maria had no interest in him, with her jerk boyfriend, who’d become a big-time magician. As soon as he got a few magic tricks going, Jon Bishop had dumped her, like trash, and never looked back.

  Why the hell doesn’t she like me? I’m better looking than Bishop, and I’ve got more money.

  Of course, if the rumors were true, about Jon’s foster family inventing Majik Juice, that could all change. But for now, Kurt’s family had way more bucks than old Mr. McCormick. He was just a schoolteacher. Everybody knew they didn’t make crap.

  Why doesn’t she like me?

  He hung his head again. The answer was simple. Kurt had to admit: he was a cruel jerk. He’d tried to be all-tough with Maria, thinking that’s the kind of man she wanted. But, it wasn’t. She wanted a nice guy. Kurt cringed. He hated nice guys! They were so…so…ugh, nice! Bunch of jerks!

  But, if he wanted to have any chance at all with Maria, he’d have to become one of them. Kurt would have to be nice. Reality sucked. It truly did.

  His jacket pocket started ringing. “What the hell?” He reached in, and took out the cell phone he’d found at the McCormick’s place. He’d forgotten all about it. The Caller ID read, Mom. Kurt didn’t know whose mom it was, but he sure wasn’t going to talk to her. When the ringing stopped, and a message had been left, he got on the phone.

  “Dumb butt, didn’t even password-protect it. Anybody could use it. Maybe I can sell it.” But first, he wanted to know whose phone it was.

  He went to the photos app, and quickly found out. Melissa Godwin. She was the little broad who’d been with Kelly, the night of the monsters. He skimmed through her pics. Hmm, not bad. If she hadn’t been so weird, he might have gone out with her.

  “Not anymore, baby,” he said aloud. “I don’t do eighth-graders, no moe.”

  He saw a video, and just for fun, clicked on it.

  Two girls in a basement, playing with a Ouija board. So that’s why all those monsters showed up. Dumb as hell, nobody should mess with those things.

  He heard Kelly’s voice. “Kurt Lazarus and Donnivee are in the house, right now!”

  Kurt jumped. How the hell did she know that? He and Donnivee had been upstairs, Kelly had been in the basement. She must have had ears like a bat! The video was incriminating as hell, until he saw a pair of green eyes appear behind Kelly in the den.

  “Pretty girl.”

  Kurt shut off the video. A monster! Melissa had recorded a monster! This was exactly what he needed to show the police! They’d believe him, if they watched it.

  He thought, again. Wait. That video also proved that Kurt had been there, that he’d broken into the house with a minor in tow.

  Oh, hell. Kurt got up and looked at the iPhone. It might keep him out of prison for murder, but it proved what he’d done that night. He shook his head and tossed the phone far out, into the river.

  “I gotta call, Maria,” he muttered to himself, as he returned to his car and drove home.

  MARIA

  Maria Sanchez wasn’t in the mood for religion right now. She wanted to be left alone. As she sat before the mirror in her bedroom and brushed her long, shining black hair, she wondered why her parents couldn’t understand how she felt, even after she’d made it so perfectly clear to them. They were about to attend Mass as they did every Sunday, and she was expected to go. The Sanchezes go to mass as a family! It’s what God wants! How many times had she heard her father say that? It was practically the family motto. He should carve it on a sign and hang it over the hearth in the den.

  She slammed her hairbrush on the vanity and ground her teeth. Was it so much to ask to be left alone for once in her life? Didn’t they care how she felt? How could they not sense the terrible internal anguish that consumed her like quicksand?

  Maria needed to be alone to think, to clear her mind of all the rubbish that had been trapped in there for weeks. But thinking caused problems because eventually all thoughts returned to Jon Bishop. She hated him. It was hard to believe she’d ever loved him, though didn’t someone once say you can only hate the ones you truly love? In her case that made good sense. Love and hate were powerful emotions that could rule a young woman’s life, take control in ways nobody really understood. Her dad said it was hormones. Maria saw differently. For Maria it was all about the heart.

  Why did she continue to care? If none of her feelings for Jon mattered anymore, then why was her pain still so jagged and relentless? He’d gone off to New York to become the “greatest magician in the world”. He might pull it off, too, she realized fearfully. But the magic he was doing, well, it was inhuman. And the way he’d acted after the cave trip—he’d become a total stranger to her. All because of that damn cave. She hated Pandora’s Cave and everything about it. If only she could somehow destroy it with a mere thought.

  But perhaps now there was a different kind of hope. Kurt Lazarus had called her last night. Normally she would have hung up on him, or never answered his call if she’d recognized his number. But he seemed different this time. He apologized to her right off for the way he’d acted in the past. That was new. Kurt never apologized for anything, he’d inherited too much of his father’s foolish pride to do that. Kurt said other things, too.

  “Why have you called me?” she asked, angry to hear his voice. Angry at his gall to think she would ever listen to what he had to say. Angry at everything.

  “I want to go out with you, Maria.”

  “I know how you treat the girls you go out with. Drop dead, Kurt.”

  “No, I’ve changed, believe me. I’ve seen things…things you couldn’t imagine.”

  “What sort of things?”

  “Maria…do you believe in…monsters?”

  He’d actually said it, choked out the words. Do you believe in monsters? Nobody could have expected that one coming from Kurt Lazarus. She shuddered. Kurt had called to ask her out, but first he wanted to confess to her about seeing monsters. She’d thought he was either crazy, high, or both, until he swore to her he would never commit a crime again. He even promised to be nice to her and everybody else. “Polite” was the word he’d used. He must have found that one in a thesaurus, it wasn’t part of his own vocabulary.

  He said other things that made her wonder. He offered to take her any place she wanted to go for dinner, any time, and then to any movie or show she wanted to see, it didn’t matter to him. Even a chick flick! To her amazement she hadn’t tossed the phone across the room when she’d finally hung up. It had been the first time since she’d known Kurt that she hadn’t gotten mad at him. They’d actually said goodbye to each other instead of go-to-hell, or something much, much worse.

  Kurt seemed almost likable. Because he believed in monsters.

  She thought about him replacing Jon in her heart. Was it even possible? Her mom would say she was vulnerable, on the rebound from a broken relationship. She should wait. But Maria wasn’t so sure. Kurt was a nice looking guy, and rich. If his cruel streak were truly over he’d be worth giving a second chance. Not only that, but Mr. Lazarus owned the strip mall where her parents’ restaurant was located and Kurt had guaranteed Maria that if she went out with him on a regular basis he could get his dad to lower the rent. That would help her parents out a lot. Was seeing Kurt a possibility? Could a relationship with a guy like that work out after all?

  When she stood up from the vanity a tiny strip of white at the edge of the mirror caught her eye. It looked like a piece of paper had been wedged between the mirror and the wood frame. She used her fingernails to dig out a small rectangle of paper. She gasped when she saw what it was. A wallet-sized photograph of Jon.

  Maria was surprised. She thought she’d thrown all his pictures away. How had it gotten there? Then she remembered hiding it when she and Jon had first started dating. Jon hadn’t met her parents yet, and she’d b
een certain they wouldn’t go for her dating some orphaned guy with no real home or family. As it turned out, her dad and Jon had gotten along great. Jon often spoke about how he needed to support his younger brother and sister, like he was their father or something. He had strong feelings of family, even though he didn’t have parents anymore. And his willingness to accept responsibility had reminded Mr. Sanchez of himself. Her dad had always spoken fondly of Jon. He saw him like a son.

  “You told me you loved me, Jon Bishop,” said Maria, staring at the picture. “You told me we were going to spend the rest of our lives together. How could you say all of that if you didn’t mean it? After all the time that was ours, how could you say you never loved me? You make me sick!”

  She tore the photo into tiny pieces and threw them all into a small trash can in the corner of her room. “I hate you! You’ll never have my heart again!”

  Maria straightened her dress and checked herself over one last time in the mirror. She was dressed well enough for church. If God didn’t like the way she looked he could just… She didn’t know how to finish the thought. What could she say that would upset God?

  All at once she glanced back at the trashcan. She hurried over to it, glaring into the bottom of the can. Tears welled up in her eyes and fell over the pieces of torn photograph like rain on a funeral.

  “Why did you leave me, Jon? Where have you gone?”

  JON

  Jon Bishop walked along the busy highway with his thumb out and his T-shirt blowing in the cold, stiff breeze. His eyes were fixed on the city skyline across the river ahead of him. New York City: the greatest city in the world. It was the only place he could go to become the greatest magician in the world. He could almost feel its energy.

  Dozens upon dozens of cars flew past him, the occupants never paying him any mind. But it didn’t matter to Jon. He really didn’t care if they picked him up or not. The important thing was to keep moving. Even if he had to walk the rest of the way he’d get to New York eventually. Jon had learned by watching other travelers that if he stuck out his thumb while he walked, sometimes people would give him a ride. Getting rides brought him closer to his goal much faster than walking. It was certainly worth the effort to hold up his thumb.

  Sure enough it happened again. A silver minivan pulled over in front of him and stopped. Jon had also learned to run to the vehicle so the driver wouldn’t get impatient and leave him behind. This time he sprinted and arrived at the passenger side door at the same time the window opened. An elderly man and woman smiled at him. The woman drove; the man sat in the passenger seat.

  “You going to the city, young fella?” asked the man, whose white mustache curled up stiffly to a point on both sides of his mouth.

  “Yes, I am going to the city,” said Jon with a smile. “I am going to New York City. I can see it just over there.”

  “That’s right,” said the man. “We can only take you as far as Times Square, but if that works for you, hop on in.”

  The passenger side door slid open by itself. For a moment Jon thought that the man and woman might have magic of their own until he remembered the doors on Angie’s minivan did the same thing. He climbed inside and sat back in the warm car. The door closed.

  “Let me guess,” said the woman, whose white hair had been stacked in plate-sized rings on top of her head. “You’re going to New York to be an actor. Or a singer. No, you look athletic. You’re a dancer. Right?”

  “I am going to New York City to become the greatest magician in the world.”

  “Magician?” said the man. “That’s different. Marge and me, well, we’re the greatest hotdog vendors in the world. That’s our supplies behind you.”

  Jon glanced behind him because he sensed the man wanted him to. Other than the fact they were giving him a ride he had no interest in what these people did for a living.

  “Aren’t you cold?” asked the woman named Marge. “It’s barely forty degrees out there and you don’t even have a coat.”

  “No, I am not cold.”

  “Are you from England? You sound like you’re from some place like that. I had a buddy from London. He was a newspaper reporter.”

  “I am not from England,” said Jon, bored. “I am from Virginia.”

  “I see. So what kind of magic do you do?”

  “Can you pull a rabbit out of a hat?” asked Marge.

  “Yes. But everybody does that. I can do anything.”

  “Anything?” asked the man jokingly. “How’d you like to magic me about five grand right now? I could use the money.” He laughed at the thought as he looked back at Jon and winked.

  Jon considered for a moment. He turned one hand over, palm down, then turned it back up again. In his hand was a stack of one hundred-dollar bills, still in the wrapper. The old man’s eyes lit up.

  “Wow! Damn, boy, you are good!” He got even more excited when Jon handed him the cash. “I can’t take your money, son. You’re going to need it for your shows.”

  “I do not need it,” said Jon. “You can have it. I got it for you.”

  “Is it real?” asked his wife. The old man tapped her on the arm and shook his head.

  “That’s not even polite, Marge.” Then he looked at Jon. “Is it?”

  “It is real. Money is easy to magic, as you say.”

  “Easy?” The old man and his wife exchanged glances. He took out a business card and gave it to Jon. “If you need a place to stay while you’re in the city you just call the number on that card. That’s my cell. We’ll make sure you have a real nice place, okay?”

  Jon took the card and put it in his pocket. “Okay.” He sat back and gazed at the approaching New York City skyline. His time was near. Soon he would be the greatest magician in the world.

  40

  DEMON FIGHT

  DONNIVEE

  Donnivee Fox sat on the stone floor guarded by a dozen slobbering, toothy demons who watched her with eyes that never blinked. They talked about her, too, she could tell. They spoke in low voices so she couldn’t hear them and they said bad things about her. Unspeakable things. Things that would make everyone laugh at her and put her down and try to hurt her. Donnivee had scores of issues that really set her off, but when she heard people talking about her…dammit! That was at the top of her list! It made her want to kick in their teeth and break their arms and punch their faces into hamburger! She stood up suddenly. Her mind was a haze of scathing hatred. Her fists were clenched. She’d fight every one of them! Only…these things around her weren’t people. They weren’t even close.

  She glanced over her shoulder and understood why she was so popular. They were cooking something—or getting ready to—inside a massive, black pot that was bigger than her bedroom at home. The acrid smell of a coal fire burned all around it, causing heavy steam to rise from inside the pot. Two lanky, horned demons stood on a rock scaffold built beside the fire and stirred the brew with long wooden poles. She’d already seen several buckets of body parts tossed into the mix, including a human hand. In spite of the unholy warmth inside the cave Donnivee shivered. It wasn’t easy to face up to the fact that most likely she was going to be lunch.

  More than anything right now she wanted to run. She might have tried, except for the shackles on her ankles that were chained to a thick iron ring embedded in the floor. The shackles were rough and tight and had already rubbed her legs raw. Run? She almost laughed. Even if she got away where could she possibly go? She looked at the long stone trail that wound upward through the enormous cavern. If she could make it to the mouth of the cave she could get home. She knew the way from there because when the demons had brought her in she’d seen the sign, Pandora’s Cave. She’d seen the ranger station too. She knew where she was. But getting that far would be a problem.

  It’d be an uphill run for a good quarter-mile, maybe further. And if she made it to the top she’d have to deal with the winding, pitch-black tunnels that these creatures knew so well. She’d never find her way through t
he tunnels without a light. Apparently demons didn’t need light, they could see in total darkness.

  Donnivee had to face the facts. She’d probably never get out of this cave alive. This must be how a bird feels when it’s caught in the jaws of a cat just before the chewing starts.

  She licked her dry, cracked lips, salty from the tears and sweat that had poured out of her under the latex mask. That stupid mask. She wanted to remove it, to let her face cool off and her hair hang down, but the demons didn’t realize it was a mask. They thought it was her real face. They’d even tied a gag around the mouth of the mask to keep her quiet, never realizing the rubbery teeth inside the rubbery lips were all fake. The silly mask might be the only thing keeping her alive at this point.

  “What do we do with ‘er?” said the four-armed demon, Grund, the one who had brought her all the way here on his shoulder. “Why’d the Boss want us to get ‘er?”

  “The traitor human wants ‘er,” said the little one, the one the others called Lipsludge.

  “If ya ask me the Boss listens to that filthy human slime way too much,” said Grund with a mutinous look in his three yellow eyes.

  “Don’t lets him hears you says that. Or you’ll bees in da soup instead of the Kelly Bishop.”

  There. They said it. They were going to throw her in the soup and eat her. All because they thought she was Kelly. Donnivee began to shake. The mind-numbing fear of certain death grew within her and spread like cancer to every part of her body. A noxious pain slithered through her stomach. Suddenly, she gagged. It was a big one, as if she’d stuck her finger down her throat and jiggled it side to side. The gag turned into a wave of uncontrollable dry heaves. She dropped to her hands and knees, doubled over in spastic contractions. She heaved repeatedly. Her face was flushed behind the mask, her belly ached from the strain. Somehow she got it under control and held back the vomit. Good thing, too. Throwing up inside a mask would be just plain nasty. Especially when she couldn’t take it off. When she was done she looked up. The demons gawked at her with baffled expressions. Guess they’d never seen another demon almost toss its cookies.

  A tall gray demon with arms and fingers like long, skinny tree branches appeared through an arched doorway. The doorway led into an even larger cave where a strange reddish glow lit up both caverns. Donnivee saw movement in the other room, but not enough to know who or what was moving or what they were doing. Often she heard what sounded like the crack of a whip. A moment later she’d hear an agonized scream. Once she heard an entire chorus of grisly screams that made her skin crawl. They sounded human. Donnivee decided not to think about the other cave.

  “Where’d Klawfinger go?” asked the gray demon.

  “He went to get da Boss,” said another.

  Lipsludge stood up and ambled over to Donnivee. He stood nearly eye-to-eye with her, though she was still kneeling.

  “I been wonderins, human,” said Lipsludge, tilting his head as he studied her face. “What’s da traitor human wants with da likes of you? You looks more like one of us, than one of dem. How comes he wants ya?”

  Donnivee’s fear had reached the boiling point. Hell, she was already on the menu. What’d she have to lose by fighting back now? She clamped her jaw firmly and threw a well-aimed right cross at the little demon. The blow caught Lipsludge squarely in the side of the head. It was so strong it lifted him off the floor and sent him rolling into the feet of a large, hairy demon with seven red eyes.

  Donnivee scowled under the mask. She forgot she even had it on. Her eyes were on fire. The demons around her tensed up. She expected them to retaliate. Sure they would. The entire group would attack her to avenge their little buddy. And she’d fight them to the death. Then they could eat her if that’s what they wanted, but at least she’d be dead first, not cooked alive in the soup.

  The demons looked from Donnivee to Lipsludge and back to Donnivee. They all started laughing. Lipsludge stood up groggily and staggered a few steps. It took him a second to refocus. When he did, he bared his teeth and claws. He was going to attack. Donnivee willingly braced herself for the fight.

  At that moment the towering lobster demon stomped back into the room from the other cavern. Donnivee gasped when she saw it. Somehow it seemed even bigger in the cavern. But the lobster demon’s head barely reached the shoulder of the gigantic creature that followed it.

  An enormous red demon ducked under the arch and strutted in from the other cave. It was thick and massive, with powerfully muscled legs and arms, and a large head with a single horn growing from the center of its forehead. As it moved it seemed to be chatting with someone—or something—that was much smaller.

  Donnivee nodded slowly. So this was the creature they were waiting for. This was the one that would kill her and toss her lifeless body into the soup. Oddly, being ripped to shreds by such a terrible creature seemed better than boiling alive.

  Then she saw the man. He was tall, dark and handsome with a touch of gray at the temples, just like in the movies. He looked important, too, all dressed up in a dark three-piece suit and tie, with highly polished shoes and a briefcase that perfectly matched what he wore. Donnivee’s hopes rose when he looked her way. She smiled at him, hoping to get his attention. But, again, she forgot about the mask.

  The four-armed demon, Grund, got very excited and ran up to the big red one. He pointed right at Donnivee. “I got her, Boss! The others were playing in fire, but I did my job!”

  Right away Lipsludge forgot about Donnivee’s right cross. He scowled at Grund. “Yer gots lucky, Grund! I’ll makes ya sorry ya saids that!”

  “Shut up,” said the Boss in a deep bass voice that seemed to vibrate right through the stone floor. “You all did your jobs.”

  The demons that had participated in “the Kelly Bishop” raid stood up tall and proud. But the man in the suit didn’t seem impressed.

  “This is the girl you brought?” said the man with a tiny hint of doubt. His rich baritone voice had an almost magical quality to it. “This is Kelly Bishop?” He went over beside Donnivee and studied her. Her heart pounded harder than it had before. What was he doing? Why did they want Kelly? She noticed the man’s skin was pale, but all his outstanding features were dark, almost black. The hair, the neatly trimmed beard and mustache, the color of his eyes. Even his unbreakable gaze had a certain darkness about it. But who was he? Why was he here? It didn’t matter as long as he’d come to rescue her.

  “I told you they were crack troops,” said the Boss with pride.

  But the man clearly wasn’t satisfied. He looked at Donnivee hard, like he knew all the lies she kept hidden deep inside her heart.

  “I’m sure your troops are as good as you say, your Lordship. But this is not the girl.”

  Grund disagreed. “But she said she was da Kelly Bishop! She said it!”

  “Dey all saids it,” said Lipsludge. “Dey was protectins ‘er.”

  “She’s demon-kind! Look at da blood on her shirt! It’s demon blood! She’s got wounded!”

  The man rolled his eyes at Grund. His expression said it all: hopeless. When he looked at Lipsludge, however, he seemed almost impressed. “Very astute, young demon. There may be hope for your kind yet. Yes, this one did tell you she was Kelly Bishop. But the only person she was protecting was herself.”

  He reached down and pulled off the mask.

  Donnivee blinked in relief. Cooler air rushed across her cheeks. She wiped her face on both sleeves in an effort to clean up.

  The demons all let out a simultaneous gasp. Some changed their position to get a better look at her.

  “He pulled her head off!” said Grund.

  “But she’s got ‘nother head inside!” said Tentacles.

  “I never seen a human that could change heads!” said another.

  Now that he’d exposed her, she understood he wasn’t there to help her escape. But how could he have known? Only one way. He had read her mind. She became nervous and upset.

  “Wrong human g
irl?” said the Boss with a shrug. “So what’s da problem, Mr. Deel? You got magic. You can take the real girl any old time you want.”

  “I’m afraid my best chance to get her was ruined by your crack troops.” Mr. Deel’s words dripped with heavy sarcasm. The Boss growled at the slight. Deel went on. “You see, your Lordship, there are other powers in this game. Unfortunately the real Kelly Bishop has made a ripple. She’s been noticed. At this point I’m forced to remain subtle. If she happens to die, my name cannot be associated with her at all. Do you understand?”

  The Boss nodded. “So if we take her for the soup, you get blamed?”

  “Exactly, your Lordship. That was my one chance to utilize your skills and personnel to acquire her. But since your death squad failed I’ll need to think of something else.”

  “What do we do with this one?”

  The man looked at Donnivee like she was nothing more than a lowly cockroach. She felt it, too. He brushed her off with a wave of his hand. “Do what you want.”

  The Boss grinned horribly. “Grund. Put her in the soup!”

  Before Donnivee realized it, the four-armed demon lifted her over his shoulder and held her so tight she could hardly breathe. Lipsludge came over and unlocked her shackles. The small demon grinned at her from below.

  “I gets her eyes!” said Lipsludge, drooling with excitement. “Her eyes is mine!” Grund started up the stone steps to the top of the scaffold.

  “I can get her for you!” cried Donnivee desperately. “I can get Kelly Bishop!”

  Grund lifted her over his head. He was about to drop her into the boiling soup when the Boss stopped him with a glance.

  “You need me!” she said again. “I can bring Kelly Bishop to you! I know her! We’re friends!”

  “No, you’re not friends,” said Mr. Deel, knowing her thoughts. Grund stood over the pot like a statue, waiting for his next order.

  Donnivee looked down. A sickly green liquid bubbled below her in the pot. The smell of vomit and decay rose in the steam. Every so often a human body part would rise to the top while the demon chefs stirred. First a head, then a hand, then part of a man’s thigh still wrapped in a pantleg. After that she saw a body part from some other creature, possibly a demon. Donnivee gulped, terrorized. No, she didn’t want to die like this. She didn’t want to die at all.

  “Ah,” continued the man as if he were still scanning her thoughts. “But you do have an intense hatred of the Bishop girl. It’s completely irrational, but you despise her worse than anyone else on the planet, except for yourself, of course. You may be useful to us yet. Your Lordship, perhaps you should hold off on the soup idea. She’s young and healthy. I suggest you put her to work in the mines. Let her have a glimpse of the future of mankind.”

  The Boss laughed. It sounded like a diesel locomotive struggling to get moving. “I like the way you think, Mr. Deel. Evil, like me. Grund, take her to the mines!”

  Donivee practically fainted with relief. The handsome man who dealt bravely and cleverly with demons had saved her life. Grund dropped her to his shoulder and lugged her back down the scaffold steps. Donnivee saw Lipsludge running along beside her like a small boy full of excitement.

  “Guess you won’t get my eyes now, will you?” said Donnivee boldly.

  “No, I don’ts,” said Lipsludge back at her. But she could tell he wasn’t disappointed. “I gets somethin’ better. I gets ta tortures ya every day for the rest of yer life!” He clapped his hands and danced along as Grund took Donnivee through the archway into the other cave, into the red place—the place where people screamed.

  41

  SLEEPLESSNESS

  KELLY

  “Nobody beats sleep.” I spoke to an empty room, to no one there. “Nobody. When you’re sleepy, sleep can knock you out with one quick punch in-the-you-know-what!”

  I laughed at myself. What did that even mean? I sat at a table in the motel room surrounded by homework, struggling to stay awake. Somehow I’d fought off sleep for three days now, but I couldn’t stay awake much longer.

  “This no-sleep thing’s makin’ me weird.” I spoke to my reflection in the mirror. Of course it was. My eyelids were so heavy I couldn’t see the words on the page of my English book. More than anything in the world I wanted to close my eyes and drift away for a nice, long nap. I would have, too.

  But since the demon attack, sleep had been hard to manage. Whenever I tried it I had terrible nightmares, and they were getting worse every time. I’d gotten to the point where I was downright afraid to sleep. All at once I had an idea.

  What if I dozed off for just a few minutes before the nightmares set in? If it worked I could repeat the process dozens of times until it all added up and I’d gotten enough rest. Or maybe I’d get lucky this time and there wouldn’t be any nightmares. Perhaps I’d fall into a deep, dreamless sleep with no demons to harass me. Thinking about it really didn’t matter because I was totally exhausted. Dreamless or not, I plopped my head on the table and fell asleep in an instant.

  It felt wonderful to have my eyes blissfully shut. Everything around me seemed peaceful and calm.

  I heard a scratching sound. I sat up quickly. What was that? Was somebody at the door? All at once the power went off. The room was instantly dark. I rose in a deep panic. With demons looking for me, darkness was the worst place to be. I noticed small bands of light filtering through the closed blinds. The motel’s exterior lights! I had to get outside. It was my only hope.

  I rushed to the door and opened it.

  “Demon Nation!” The creature’s words were hoarse and deep. At the same instant a huge, scaly hand reached in. Its long claws caught me by the throat. I screamed as loud as I could and never made a sound.

  I woke up at the table, gasping for air. I searched the lighted room, wide-eyed and fearful. I felt awake, but was I really? It was getting more and more difficult to tell. I checked the time on my phone and saw it was just after six. Angie and Travis should get back soon with the groceries and some supper.

  A car door slammed outside. It startled me so bad I nearly jumped out of the chair. I got up and peeked through the blinds. Just some ordinary people moving their things into the room next door. No demons. How do you spell RELIEF?!

  I was definitely awake. Wide awake…again. But for how long this time?

  Okay, I needed the rest, no doubt about it. That was one reason I’d asked to stay in the motel while Angie and Travis went to the store. But the other reason I’d stayed—the real reason—was because I needed to know if I could even be alone anymore. For the last three days all I could think about were those terrible monsters coming after me. Now I was all by myself. This was the first test. Would I pass?

  Still trembling from the bad dream I spoke aloud: “Maybe I’ll surprise Angie and put my clothes away. That’ll keep me awake for a while.”

  I had literally been living out of my suitcase since we got to the motel and by now the piles of dirty and clean clothes were all mixed up. Angie had asked me to put the clean clothes in the drawers and the dirty ones someplace else if I wanted them washed. I hadn’t done it yet because the job seemed too much like work, but in the end it took me only a few minutes to get the suitcase emptied.

  That was easy enough. Now for the backpack.

  I set my old pink Barbie backpack on the bed and unzipped the largest section. Seeing the backpack reminded me of Pandora’s Cave. It also reminded me of the promise Dr. Parrish had made a couple days ago. He told me he would call FBI Special Agent in Charge Smith and ask him to go back into the cave and look for Brandon’s camcorder. It was a logical and good idea because the tape in Brandon’s camcorder held plenty of evidence that the demons existed, even more than Mathew’s cell phone video. I hoped it showed that Mr. Deel guy too. The camcorder was the answer to my problems. It was the only thing that would get somebody to do something.

  The question was had Parrish made the call yet? What if he forgot? Would it be rude to remind him?


  Something else nagged at me, too. When Travis and I escaped from the cave that day, the hideous creatures had threatened us both.

  We know where you live, Kelly and Travis. We’ll grab you in the dark, when the night comes. The dark belongs to usss!

  But they hadn’t threatened Parrish at all. Why not? He’d been in the cave, too, and he heard what they said. So why didn’t they want him? And how come they didn’t try to get Travis the other night? I was certainly glad they didn’t, but the threat was to get us both. Were demons so dumb they could only capture one kid at a time? Or did it all mean something else? I didn’t like being singled out.

  One other thing bothered me, too, something that probably had a lot to do with the nightmares. The demons had come all the way from Pandora’s Cave that night just for the Kelly Bishop. But they left without me. Didn’t that mean they’d be back?

  I removed the last of the clothes from the backpack and put them in the drawer. That was when I noticed something bulging in both side pockets. I opened the first side zipper and was amazed at what I saw.

  A moldy, green and white peanut butter and jelly sandwich.

  “Yuck!” I tossed the sandwich in the trashcan. Angie had made the sandwich weeks ago when we’d gone into the cave. I screwed up my face as I unzipped the other side pocket. No telling what slimy thing was in there.

  Whatever it was had been tightly wrapped inside a black trash bag. I had no recollection of putting it there. Maybe Travis had found some rocks he wanted to keep.

  I unwrapped the trash bag and dropped the item on the bed. My eyes got wide as saucers when I saw what it was. My heart began to pound. Brandon’s camcorder! It had been in my old Barbie backpack the whole time!

  “Oh-my-gosh!” I said aloud. “Jon must have put it in there!” This was incredible. The FBI didn’t have to send anybody into the cave after all. They just needed to look at the tape.

  I took up the camcorder and switched it on. Nothing happened at all, and I soon saw why. The lens was cracked and so was the chamber that housed the tape. I pushed the eject button several times, but again nothing happened. Either the camcorder was broken or the battery was dead. It didn’t matter. I’d found it and the tape was still inside. I was absolutely certain Agent Smith would want to see it. And when he did somebody would do something about those demons!

  I looked up at my reflection in the mirror. “Oh, no. What if Dr. Parrish already told Agent Smith about the camcorder? What if they’re going to the cave right now? I gotta stop them!”

  I dialed Parrish’s number on my cell phone. He answered. “Dr. Parrish?” I almost shouted.

  “Kelly,” said Parrish a little surprised. “How are you? Listen, I know why you’re calling and I’ll be honest with you, I haven’t contacted Agent Smith yet, no excuses. But I promise I’ll do it tonight, okay?”

  “No! Don’t call him! Not yet, anyway! I found the camcorder, Dr. Parrish. It was in my old backpack all the time!”

  “And the tape?”

  “Still inside! But the camcorder’s broken. We gotta find somebody who can fix it or at least get the tape out.”

  “It’s a mini-DV camcorder, right? I can get the tape out. I can also record the entire video on my computer and put it on a DVD or flash drive so anybody can watch it. It might take time if the tape is damaged, but I’ve got some great software for that kind of thing.”

  “How soon can you do it?”

  “Let me speak to Angie and we’ll figure it out.”

  “She’s not here. She’s shopping.”

  “Okay, when she gets back, tell her to call me. We’ll find out once and for all what’s on the tape!”

  “Yes! Thank you!”

  As I hung up I suddenly realized there could be only one reason the demons had come after me and nobody else. Besides Travis, only one person connected me to the demon world. Mr. Deel. He knew I was telepathic, just like him. He’d been inside my mind like I’d been in his. When he wasn’t driving around in his limo he was giving speeches to demons. It had to be Deel!

  But why would Mr. Deel want me to be demon food? Was it just because I was telepathic? Or was it something much darker? I lay back on the bed, holding the camcorder close against me. Now more than ever I needed to know what was on that tape. Everyone in the world needed to know.

  While I waited for Angie and Travis to return I got drowsy again. But this time it didn’t matter. I knew when the police saw the tape they’d probably send a whole army down into the cave to deal with the demons. I’d be safe and my family would be safe. Finally I wasn’t afraid anymore. At last somebody would do something and I could close my eyes again at night.

  Then for the first time in three days I fell into a wonderful, deep sleep that lasted nearly twelve hours. Holding the camcorder close, like a Teddy-cam, I dreamed nice dreams about somebody doing something about the demon conspiracy.

  The End? Not even close…