The Hag

by Erik Henry Vick

  “Scott, I’ll need you to flash your badge and get Mike’s room number,” said Toby.

  Scott looked at him for a moment, but then treated him to a terse nod and walked over to the information desk.

  “Toby…”

  “What is it, Benny?”

  “Toby, something… I feel strange.”

  Toby chuckled. “Benny, you are strange. But don’t take it to heart. Who isn’t in this little band of misfits?”

  “Not that kind of strange, Toby.” Then he turned away, his eyes scanning the room, scanning the people in the room. “No…no…”

  “What kind of strange, Benny?” Toby turned an amused glance on Shannon, but Shannon wasn’t paying attention to their conversation. Her gaze was glued to the doors that led out into the portico.

  Scott strode back over, slipping his badge through his belt. “He’s up on the fourth floor,” he said. “But there’s a complication, Toby…” His gaze tracked from Toby to Shannon, and then to Benny. “What’s going on?”

  “No idea,” said Toby.

  “He’s here…somewhere.” Benny took two aimless steps away from them, still scanning the room, still looking people in the face and then dismissing them.

  “Who is here? Dammit, Benny, make sense!”

  “Him,” said Shannon lifting her arm to point at the double glass doors leading outside. “He’s here.”

  Benny whirled to face her, then followed her gaze. “You’re a genius, Shan!” he whispered. “It’s him! Toby, that’s him!”

  Toby peered out the double doors as a cab pulled forward under the portico roof. A tall, very tanned man got out of the back seat and handed a few bills through the driver’s side window. He pulled a small suitcase and an overnight bag out of the back and then walked around the rear of the cab. His eyes tracked across the front of the hospital, scanning upward as he leaned back to see the top floors.

  “Who is that, Benny?”

  “It’s him!” As Benny said the words, the tall man outside dropped his gaze and stared at them.

  “Him who?”

  The man smiled, picked up his suitcase and bag, and entered the hospital lobby. He walked toward them, his gaze bouncing between Toby and Benny. The man stopped a few feet from them and set his luggage at his feet. He met Shannon’s gaze, then Scott’s, then returned his gaze to Benny’s face. “I’m not crazy, am I?” he asked.

  “No,” said Benny. “No, you’re not crazy.” Benny laughed. “Trust me, I know crazy, and you’re not it.”

  The tall man turned his gaze to Toby. “You’re the one, right? The one who hunts them?”

  Toby ran his hand through his hair and then down over his face. “I wish one of you would tell me what’s going on.”

  The tall man looked at Shannon again. “You weren’t there. You didn’t help.”

  “No, you’re wrong there. Both Shannon and Scott helped,” said Benny as he took a step closer to the newcomer. “They had to deal with another threat—Brigitta and her pet.”

  The man nodded as if that made everything clear. “Who’s Brigitta?”

  Benny bounced on his toes like an excited eleven-year-old. “Brigitta was Herlequin’s daughter.”

  The man turned his gaze on Benny and cocked his head to the side. “Herlequin?”

  “That’s difficult to explain,” said Toby. “Listen, I can see that you and Benny somehow know each other, but…”

  “Oh! Sorry!” The tall man blushed. “I’m Greg Canton.” He held out his hand, and Toby took it.

  “As if that means something to us,” Scott muttered.

  “I’m Toby. The one bouncing on his toes is Benny, and the beauty is Shannon. The grumpy one’s named Scott.”

  The tall man looked at them each in turn, nodding and smiling. “Did all of you…” He wound down like a windup toy running out of spring.

  “No. Shannon, Toby, and I did, though.”

  “Did what?” asked Scott.

  “Survive the woods,” said Greg. “You survived being chased by the Lady in the Lake.”

  Benny shook his head. “No, we survived Herlequin’s game.”

  “There’s that name again.”

  “Herlequin was the one behind it all—the one who made us all run in the woods while his daughters chased us.”

  “This isn’t the place for this discussion,” said Scott, glancing surreptitiously at the security guard who was staring at Benny. “We need to get moving. We’re drawing too much attention. And, Benny, try to act your age.”

  “We’ve got to, uh, pick up a friend.” Benny picked up Greg’s overnight bag and slung it over his shoulder. “You might as well come on up with us, meet Mike.” He looked at Greg and flashed him a smile.

  “Come on,” said Scott. “The elevators we need are around this way.”

  “Uh, before we go, there’s something you should know,” said Greg as he bent to pick up his suitcase. “We’d better hurry. We are in danger here.”

  “What do you mean we're in danger?” asked Scott, taking a small step toward Greg.

  “I'm not sure how to explain it…it's just that…sometimes, I get these feelings. I can sense some kind of…thing.” Greg shook his head, looking to Benny as if for help. “I can't explain this right.”

  “Well, I hope you can do a better job than that,” said Scott.

  “I'm sorry,” said Greg, shaking his head. “My father… The night of my mother’s murder—my mother and my grandmother—my father said he met…” Greg looked down at his feet, then glanced at Benny sheepishly. “He's insane, you see, but he's always maintained that a demon killed my mother and grandmother. Sometimes I get this feeling…a presence I can almost sense…”

  “The part about the demons makes sense,” said Toby. “But your father's not insane. There are demons here. Herlequin was their king.”

  “I'm not sure what that means,” said Greg, shaking his head and looking lost. “I… When you killed him, it sent a shockwave through my mind. But he—whoever he was—was always just a voice in my head. When I was a kid, I thought he was my invisible friend, and there may have been an invisible friend before he started talking to me, but that summer when…when everything happened, my invisible friend turned…nasty, sour. That's when I first met the Lady in the Lake.” Greg looked at them as if lost.

  Toby cocked his head to the side. “That’s a story that needs telling.”

  Greg looked away. “Anyway, whatever I can sense—things similar to the Lady in the Lake and the voice in my head—are headed this way.”

  “Demons,” said Toby.

  “How many?” asked Scott.

  That earned another shrug from Greg. “Well, not all of them, but more than one. Only one is close, but the others are moving fast.”

  “Then we'd better get a move on,” said Scott. “Toby, you're with me. The rest of you get back to the car, get it loaded, get it started, and be ready to move. We'll get Mike, and we might come back on the run.”

  Without another word, Scott turned and strode off toward the bank of elevators. Toby followed him, with a glance back at Benny and a small shrug.

  Benny turned back to Greg and ducked his head. “It's a stressful time. We’re not usually so…” Benny lifted his hands and let them drop.

  “It's no problem,” said Greg.

  “Come on,” said Shannon, turning back toward the passage that led to the wart. “Let’s get back to the car.”

  3

  Brigitta stepped into the ruins of what had once been a living room. She nudged a chunk of yellow-scaled flesh with her bare toe and curled her lip. “This is how you two alphas work together? Is this what I can expect from the two of you? You two buffoons rolling around on the carpet like a pair of children?”

  LaBouche stood next to Chaz, his blood and Chaz’s blood both splattered across his body. He didn’t meet her gaze—he didn’t want her to see the rebellion in his own. Behind him, in the hole through the wall into the bedroom, Nicole Conrau tittered like
a drunken whore.

  “He attacked me! It was unprovoked and unexpected. He barged in here‍—‍”

  “You will shut your mouth!” Brigitta’s voice was quiet but laced with acid. She took a step toward them, lifting her hand and slapping Chaz hard across the face. “Do not make the mistake of thinking I can’t go on without you. Do not make the mistake of thinking I can’t punish you in creative ways that will be as bad as sending you home.”

  Chaz brought a hand up to his cheek but said nothing. Again, Nicole Conrau laughed.

  “Were my instructions not clear? Did I leave room for interpretation? Did I forget to express my wish that you two work together? Is there any doubt in either of your tiny brains that the times demand we put aside petty differences?” Brigitta looked around the room, her gaze dancing over the smashed furniture, the chunks of scaled flesh—both yellow and pearlescent—the splashes of blood, and she hissed with anger.

  “I apologize,” said LaBouche.

  Brigitta’s gaze snapped to his and fire danced in her eyes. “Why do you apologize? And to whom?”

  “I apologize to you, Your Majesty, for my overzealousness. I should have come to you with my concerns, rather than try to solve them for myself.”

  Beside him, Chaz scoffed.

  “And what are these…concerns, LaBouche?” Brigitta asked in a mild tone that fooled no one.

  “A…concerned party informed me that Chaz had abandoned his work. That he and this trollop behind me had slunk off into the shadows to rut without a care in the world about the war effort. I allowed this knowledge to infuriate me, and I acted out of anger.” LaBouche dropped to one knee and bowed his head. “Please forgive me, Excellency. It will not happen again.”

  Brigitta rested her hand on the back of LaBouche’s head. “In all the time I’ve known you, LaBouche, how is it I never knew you could be contrite?”

  “You can’t be buying this, Brigitta! You can’t be that simple!” snapped Chaz.

  Oh, that was a mistake, thought LaBouche, smiling down at the carpet. Brigitta’s hand left the back of his head. Another slap?

  “Simple? Am I simple, Chaz?” The room fell into an algid silence. “Nicole? Am I simple?”

  “No, my queen.” Nicole’s voice was smooth and sultry.

  “Tell me, Chaz, what should I do with you? LaBouche is correct, you abandoned your duties.” She turned her back and stepped away, then whirled back to face him. “You allowed Nicole to seduce you, to distract you from the tasks I had laid before you.”

  “But we had everything in hand! We took a moment, sure, but my work did not suffer for it. I can promise you that, Brigitta.”

  Mistake number two, thought LaBouche with a shiver of anticipation. He wasn’t sure what punishment Brigitta would inflict, but he felt sure that Chaz was only making it worse.

  “Hmmm.” Brigitta put her hands behind her back and closed her eyes. When she opened them, fury danced within, and she began to pace back and forth before them. “It seems to me that you are intent on compounding your errors with excuses. With familiarity.” She rested her hand on the back of LaBouche’s head, almost a caress. “I’m beginning to see what LaBouche dislikes about your character. I’m beginning to understand LaBouche’s anger.”

  LaBouche’s smile widened for a moment, and then he gasped as pain lanced through him from the back of his skull. Brigitta snapped her hand up toward the ceiling, gouging the skin from the rear of his head in four rows.

  “That doesn’t lessen my anger at him, mind you. LaBouche should have come to me rather than taking matters into his own hands. Where the two of you are concerned, I cannot trust your judgments. Neither of you will attempt to correct the actions of the other.”

  “Yes, Your Majesty,” said LaBouche.

  Chaz remained silent.

  Ah, the trifecta! This could be it…

  “LaBouche, go get yourself cleaned up. I don’t want the lesser demons seeing you in this state and making assumptions. You will remember this and act accordingly.”

  Disappointment filled him, but LaBouche stood and bowed over her hand. “As you say, my queen.” Without another look at Chaz, Nicole, or Brigitta, LaBouche left the remains of Shannon Bertram’s apartment.

  He wanted to see what Brigitta would do to Chaz. He was halfway down the stairs to the parking lot when Chaz screamed, and LaBouche’s large V-shaped mouth curled with a derisive smile.

  4

  Scott flashed his badge at the nurses sitting behind the counter that served as the floor’s station. “Scott Lewis, New York State Police.”

  “What can we do for you, Trooper?” asked a sandy-haired nurse.

  “We got a report of a suspicious character brought in from a traffic accident up in Ontario. They said downstairs that the guy’s up here.”

  The nurse frowned and dropped her gaze to something on her desk. “I thought he belongs to Wayne County.”

  “Yeah, the accident happened up there, but we think he’s a person of interest in one of our cases.” Scott hooked his thumb and pointed it toward Toby. “We need to talk to him.”

  The nurse tilted her head to the side, still looking down at her desk. “It says here access is restricted until the detective from Wayne County questions him.”

  Toby sidled up to the counter and smiled. “Let me see that.”

  “Well, I don’t know…”

  “Come on, if you can’t trust a trooper who can you trust?” He kept the smile going and turned up the wattage a little as the nurse looked up at him.

  She grinned a little and shrugged. “I guess you’re right.” She lifted a pink square of paper from the desk and handed it to him.

  Glancing down, Toby read the note, and then looked the nurse in the eyes. “Can I borrow your pen?”

  The nurse’s smile faltered. “What kind of trooper goes around without a pen?”

  Scott blew a breath out through puffed cheeks. “You don’t know the half of it. This guy never brings a pen, but what’s worse, he never brings any money to pay for lunch.”

  “I’ll have you know that important things weigh on my mind,” Toby said, half turning to face Scott. “These small details…that’s why I have you.”

  “Yeah, yeah.”

  With a chuckle, the nurse handed her pen to Toby, and he wrote something on the little square of pink paper. “There,” he said, giving both the paper and the pen back to the nurse.

  She read it and chuckled again. “I guess that clears everything up. Your guy is in 418.” She waved her hand down the corridor to the right. “Seventh room down on the left.”

  Toby grinned wider and treated her to a wink. “Thank you…”

  The nurse blushed a little, then said, “It’s Delilah. Delilah Lara.”

  “Lee LaBouche,” Toby said without missing a beat. Beside him, Scott stiffened but said nothing. “It’s nice to meet you, Delilah.”

  “You, too, Lee.”

  Toby turned toward Scott and winked. “Why don’t you talk to the skell. I’d better question Ms. Lara, here.”

  Scott rolled his eyes and turned away. As he walked away from the nurses’ station, Toby began to roll out his patter. Scott tried to keep the smile off his face but was only partially successful. He walked down the hall, glancing at the numbers stenciled above the doors. When he reached Mike’s room, he darted a glance back toward the nurses’ station, but Toby had them all enthralled, telling a story and making wild arm gestures. He ducked inside the darkened room. “Mike?”

  The light over the bed blinked to life. “It’s about time you showed up,” said Mike.

  “The others had a few issues with the car.”

  Mike grunted and threw back the sheets. “You’ll have to help me. I can’t walk. My legs are like pins and needles, still.”

  “We’ve got to get you out of here, Mike, but are you sure…”

  “Yeah, I am. Toby’s a doctor, after all.”

  “A pathologist,” said Scott.

  Mike chuc
kled. “Close enough. He still went to medical school.” Mike swung his legs off the bed, slapping both thighs as he did so. “I don’t think I can walk yet.”

  Scott nodded. “Just a sec. There was a wheelchair outside a room up the hall.”

  “Be careful, the nurse said that a deputy‍—‍”

  Scott waved his hand through the air. “Yeah. Toby’s keeping the nurses distracted.” Scott ducked out and retrieved the wheelchair. He got Mike in the chair and wheeled him out of the room, heading up the hall, away from the nurses’ station. At the corner, he turned back and whistled, and then he wheeled Mike around the corner and down to the bank of elevators. “Toby will meet us at the car.”

  “Yeah,” slurred Mike.

  “Are you sure we should take you out of here?”

  “Just the painkillers. I’m fine.” Mike’s eyes drifted closed, and his head lolled to the side. “Shannon okay?”

  “Yeah. She got her bell rung is all.” The elevator doors opened, and Scott wheeled the chair into the room. “Oh, listen, Mike. We just met a strange guy down in the lobby, and Benny’s acting like he’s known him forever.” Scott shrugged. “He seems aware of what’s going on, though.”

  Without opening his eyes, Mike yawned until his jaw popped. “The more, the merrier, I guess.”

  Scott grunted. “What are we doing, Mike? How can we…” Scott shook his head.

  Mike cracked his eyes open and glanced up at the trooper. “We are doing what we have to do, Scott.”

  “But…I mean, how can we fight these things? How can we expect to have an impact? If what Hartman said was true—that an uncountable number of demons remain trapped in their home realm. I mean, who cares if we killed Herlequin? Who cares if we kill LaBouche, even? There will just be other demons to replace them.”

  “I know it seems impossible‍—‍” Mike closed his mouth as the elevator dinged and the doors opened. Across the lobby stood two Wayne County detectives and a guy in a cheap suit.

  “Do you recognize any of them?” whispered Scott.

  Mike shook his head.

  “Okay, play it cool, then.” Standing behind the wheelchair, Scott pulled his badge out of his belt and shoved it in his pocket. He pushed the wheelchair out of the elevator and headed toward the hall that connected the lobby to the parking garage. He kept his eyes focused straight ahead and his expression neutral.