The Hag

by Erik Henry Vick

  Benny lifted his arm and waved—wanting to make sure she couldn’t see him. When she didn’t respond, he sprinted to the edge of the trees, and she reacted to that, but only by turning her head and staring at the back of the garage.

  Too loud, he thought. From that point on, he slowed down and moved with care, avoiding anything that would make a racket. He approached the tree she hid in and looked for a way to climb into its crown.

  38

  Toby approached the tree Scott and the purple demon had disappeared into and tried to climb it while keeping the shotgun ready to use. From above, came the sounds of a fight: grunting, gasping, the sound of fists on flesh. Scott didn’t stand much of a chance against the muscle-bound brute that had grabbed him, and Toby knew time was short.

  “Dammit!” he muttered. He wedged the Remington into the crook of a branch against the trunk and swung himself up into the tree using another branch. He climbed for a moment, then fished the shotgun up and found another place to wedge it so he could climb again.

  39

  Chaz worried and fretted in the back seat. Ricky Fast didn’t live up to his name in Chaz’s opinion. But Nicole’s safety bothered him more than Brigitta’s wrath—regardless of what he said to Ricky.

  That’s stupid, he thought. She seduced you to get you in trouble with Brigitta, you idiot. He recognized the truth of the thought, but… It’s been so long since I had a mate. He shook his head, lip curled in disgust at his own weak thoughts.

  “Hurry!” he snapped, slapping the seat between them. “Get me there! Get me there now!”

  40

  Benny climbed in silence, channeling every ninja movie he’d ever watched back in the 1980s, sneaking up on the woman in the tree. He wanted to get as close as possible for the first shot. He didn’t want to risk a miss, or, worse yet, give her time to think about how to avoid going night-night.

  Above him, the tree creaked as she shifted position, and he peeked upward, expecting to meet her glowering gaze, but that didn’t happen. Instead, she had leaned out and peered up toward the Cadillac.

  He was close—too close to miss, even with his lousy aim. He glanced down at the paintball gun and moved the lever from single-fire to full-auto, wincing at the click. Positive she must’ve heard and would attack him the second he looked up, Benny leaned closer to the trunk, trying to shield himself with the base of two branches.

  When he looked up, she hadn’t moved, hadn’t shifted her gaze away from the Cadillac.

  Suppressing a sigh of relief, Benny took careful aim, recalling everything Scott had told him—aim for the center of mass, keep the burst short, squeeze the trigger instead of pulling it. He raised the paintball gun above his head, and despite holding it with both hands, it wavered and twitched. He steeled himself and squeezed the trigger.

  The gun spat chloroform-laden paintballs on a stream of compressed carbon dioxide. The demon above him twitched at the sound, almost leaping out of the tree, and looked down at him between her legs. The paintballs smashed into her chest and neck, shattering on impact and delivering chloroform into her face.

  Her eyes blazed for a moment. Something clattered down through the branches past Benny, but he didn’t dare look away. Her human features faded away, replaced by a silver-skinned demoness with four arms and black hair. She opened her mouth and hissed at him, her scarlet tongue darting at the air.

  Benny thought she would kill him, and fear paralyzed him—her predatory gaze trapping him, rendering him unable to turn away from her malachite eyes. The vermillion tongue flickered out between two tusks the color of sunbaked wheat and tasted the air like a snake’s would again, and Benny closed his eyes and waited for the end.

  I love you, Shannon!

  41

  Scott bled from too many places to count. The freak he fought had too many advantages: strength, reach, fucking wings, and bone-like armor. He was tiring, and each swing Scott threw had the potential of taking him right off the branch on which he huddled. He lashed out at the demon, but the big purple freak leaped off the branch and hovered for a moment before diving back and slamming a forearm into Scott’s torso.

  I’m going to die in this damn tree if I can’t get it together! he thought. Toby was beneath him, climbing up to help, but even with the two of them to fight, Scott didn’t think much of their chances.

  Would it be so bad to die here? The notion came out of nowhere, and for a moment, Scott didn’t recognize it as his own, but it was. My family…gone. Becky and Jenny are dead, stolen from me by Lee. He’d thought the idea of getting revenge on LaBouche was enough, the idea of fighting back against the evil that infested Oneka Falls, but…

  “Get out of here, Toby!” he cried. “Get the others away.”

  The purple demon laughed and swooped in to deliver another blow—one that cracked Scott’s ribs.

  “Hang on,” grunted Toby.

  “No, listen! It’s okay. Get everyone else away. You don’t need me! I can keep him here…”

  “I’m right here, you know,” grated the purple demon. “We speak and understand your pathetic language.”

  “Fuck off,” said Scott wearily. He peered down, trying to catch Toby’s eye. Something buzzed into the tree below him, and Toby flew out of the tree and crashed into the lake, the Remington spinning down to smack the shoreline. In the distance, a rifle report cracked.

  The demon laughed. “So much for the cavalry. I’ll let you pick, human. Would you rather a bullet rip you from this tree or to jump under your own steam?” The demon veered away from the tree, giving the shooter a clear sightline.

  Something buzzed through the air next to his head, and with it came a fierce desire to live. With only a single downward glance, Scott flung himself out of the tree and into the cold water below.

  42

  Dan Delo watched the human fall from the tree and laughed. He turned the laugh into a victory whoop and spun in midair, his gaze searching the trees for whoever had come to his aid. After a moment he saw her, Nicole Conrau, four-armed and silver-skinned. She held one of the new rifles in two of her hands, grasping the tree for support with the other two. She pointed the gun at the Cadillac and executed the two humans sitting in the back with a stream of bullets.

  Dan loosed another whoop and flew toward Nicole. She glanced his direction and waved him off. Confused, he hovered above the lake house.

  Dead humans lay outside the door of a garage across the gravel road: two women—one of whom was the tricksy one from the library—an old man, and a guy with a beard holding a paintball gun lying at the base of the tree Nicole inhabited. Beyond the two garages, another human stirred and groaned. Dan Delo stared at him—he looked just as LaBouche had described him. Brigitta’s pet, he thought. He drew his gaze upward, and for a moment, Nicole Conrau seemed frozen. Suspicions tickled the back of his mind, but the tricksy woman lay dead right in front of him.

  When he looked at Nicole again, she grinned at him and pumped her fist in the air. He returned her salute. She held up a single finger and then brought the rifle to her shoulder once more and peered through its scope.

  “No, no. What are you doing?” Dan murmured. He waved both hands over his head, but Nicole didn’t see him.

  She drew a bead on the head of Brigitta’s pet killer.

  “No!” he shouted, but he was too far away. No! he thought at her, but she either didn’t receive his mental shout or ignored it. He beat his wings with all his strength and shot forward, trying to get her attention with his size, his movement, but her focus was absolute.

  He was sure the shot would come before he could reach Mason Harper, but it did not. Without slowing, he grabbed the man with his feet and lifted him into the sky. He looked back once and shook his fist at Nicole’s astonished face.

  43

  As soon as Dan Delo cleared out, Shannon let the illusions fade. Exhaustion rode her, and twin channels of blood ran from her nose. Benny stood by her side, lending her support, but even so, it was all she coul
d do to stay on her feet.

  “Would someone tell me what’s going on now?” asked Tom Walton. “Have I lost my fool mind? How was that nerdy guy flying?” The memory of the strange trek through the woods tried to surface, but years of practice had enabled Tom to repress it without conscious thought.

  “Better go get Toby and Scott,” Shannon said. “I’m okay, now, Benny.”

  “I can call them.”

  “No, Scott seemed pretty torn up.”

  Benny looked at her for a few heartbeats before nodding.

  “Ms. Bertram? What’s going on around here?” asked Tom again.

  “Chief Walton, we will explain everything, but if we do, there’s no going back. And call me Shannon.”

  Tom stared at her, moving his jaw from side to side. “I don’t understand, Shannon. Not any of this.”

  “I know. Do you know Mike Richards?”

  “Chief Richards? From Oneka Falls? Sure, I do.”

  Shannon pointed at the Cadillac. “He’s in the back seat, and he’s hurt, but he might explain it to you better than I can. I…” She sighed and leaned against the wall. “I’m very, very tired.”

  Tom nodded once but didn’t move. “Back in 1979…” He left the question unasked and just stood looking at her.

  “Yes,” Shannon said. “Back in 1979 is when all this…” She waved her hand to encompass everything they could see. “That’s when all this started. The woods.”

  “Thousand Acre Wood?”

  Shannon ducked her head and sighed.

  “And Owen Gray?”

  Shannon grinned a flat little smile. “He was a pawn, a distraction from the true thrust of events.”

  Tom took a deep breath and glanced toward the Cadillac. “I’m not sure I understand that.”

  “No,” Shannon breathed. “The man who just went down to the lake?”

  Tom nodded.

  “That’s Benny Cartwright. The guy with the shotgun is Toby Burton.”

  “Benny…” Tom put his hand out and steadied himself on the wall of the garage next to her.

  “Go talk to Mike,” Shannon mumbled. “We will explain as much as you want to hear, but please…I need to rest for a minute, and there’s not much time.”

  His gaze crawled over her face, starting with her eyes, then dipping down to examine the blood flowing from her nose. “‘Course,” he said. He turned without another word and plodded toward the Cadillac.

  Shannon sighed and leaned her head back. She let her eyes drift shut. Sleep tugged at her consciousness and fatigue toxins steeped in her blood. She slid down the wall until her butt hit the ground. She drew in a deep breath and held it.

  44

  Benny ran down to the beach. Toby stood dripping water on the dock and peering up the concrete path to see who was coming, but Scott lay on the ground. He lay with his feet in the water, his waist crossing the invisible line that separated the yard from the beach. His breathing rasped in his chest, and his eyes were closed, but he was alive.

  “Hey, Benny,” said Toby.

  “Benny? What the hell, man?” asked Scott. “Why didn’t you warn me about the fake shooter, the fake bullets?”

  “Sorry. No time, and I wasn’t with Shannon when she started, so I couldn’t have told you anyway.”

  “No? Where the hell were you?”

  Benny recounted the tale of stalking the silver four-armed demoness with the rifle. “I thought I was dead when she looked right at me, but then her eyes rolled up, and she went down through the branches. The chloroform put her down. I did it just like you told me to: center of mass, squeeze the trigger, short bursts.”

  Scott groaned. “Shannon could have made it appear I got shot without me jumping fifteen feet into cold water with broken ribs.”

  “Sorry,” said Benny. “We were working against the clock.”

  “Yeah, it’s all we seem to do these days,” Scott sighed. “Help me.” He held one hand straight up in the air. Toby and Benny both helped him to his feet. “Where’s the purple bastard?”

  “We tricked him into leaving.”

  Scott raised an eyebrow.

  “We made him think the silver demon would kill Mason Harper, and the purple demon picked him up and flew away with him.”

  Scott made a face. “Tell me you’re joking!”

  “No. It was the only way we could think of to get the big purple bastard to leave.”

  “Pretty sure you just let a serial killer loose on the world,” said Scott.

  “But you know who he is. You can tell the State Police and‍—‍”

  “That may be true, but who the hell knows where that walking steroid advertisement took him? How can we find him again?” Scott scoffed and shook his head. “How did you know Abaddon was important to Barney, anyway?”

  “Barney?” asked Benny.

  “It’s a kids’ show. Barney is a big purple dinosaur.”

  “Oh, I get it. Because of the purple, right?” Benny nodded to himself. “Anyway, we didn’t know Harper was important, but before the purp—before Barney attacked the car, he flew toward Harper. He kept darting glances at him, and he appeared at his house…” Benny shrugged. “It just seemed to make sense. So, I scanned Barney to‍—‍”

  At the sound of the racing engine, all three of them turned toward the gravel road.

  45

  Shannon startled awake to the sound of a roaring V8 coming up the road. What now? She opened her eyes to see Tom Walton and Greg Canton running toward her with Mike strung between them. Greg’s eyes were wide with panic.

  “Two more!” he cried. “Two more coming up the road.”

  Shannon waved them into the garage, then stepped out to get a better view of the bend in the road. Who would they be looking for? Who should greet them?

  Toby and Benny came up the concrete path, supporting Scott between them. She held up a hand. Stop! she sent to Benny. Can you tell who is coming? Can you read them?

  Benny motioned toward the wall of the Canton house and ducked under Scott’s arm. He closed his eyes and held his hand out toward the bend in the road.

  Chaz Welsh and someone calling himself Ricky Fast. They’re in Mike’s old cop car.

  What should I show them? How do I make them leave?

  Benny smiled. Don’t worry, Shan. I know just what to do.

  46

  “Hurry!” Chaz urged.

  Ricky grunted and kept his attention on the road ahead. The old Caprice wasn’t happy with the gravel surface, and the car kept trying to slide off into the cottonwoods lining the lane. As they approached the bend, Mike Richards stepped into their path and raised a shotgun. “Hold on!” shouted Ricky, twisting the wheel.

  “Fuck that! Get him!” roared Chaz.

  The Caprice slid in the gravel, trying to spin, but Ricky held it, turning into the slide. He pointed the car right at Richards and floored it. As the car shot right through him, Ricky screamed. For a split second, Chaz knew they were in trouble, then the Caprice slammed into a tree, bounced off, and slewed across the road. It hit a downed log and rolled over with an ear-splitting crash.

  When the car came to rest on its side, Chaz bunched his legs and exploded up through the door above his head. Warm blood trickled into his eye, but he ignored it.

  They are here already! he thought. Why are the humans still free? Still alive? He peered into the trees, but nothing moved, and no sound reached his ears. For a moment, he wondered if the crash had deafened him, but then he heard it.

  “Chaz!” called Mike Richards in a lilting, mocking voice. “Want to play hide and seek, you stupid son of a bitch?”

  Chaz turned his head, tracking the sound. It came from the big Cadillac parked near the road ahead. He roared and charged, moving with speed his bulk and strength belied. He ran with the help of his arms, swinging them in great arcs and shifting his weight forward while both fists were on the ground in a strange, three-part gait—leg, leg, arms.

  He leaped to the back of the car, blow
ing both rear tires and crushing the sheet metal of the trunk lid. Without pausing, he flung himself into the air, twisting to land facing the open car door. He growled and ripped the door off its hinges, throwing it away.

  But the car was empty.

  Confused, Chaz took a step back and turned toward the car he’d arrived in. Ricky hadn’t moved yet—maybe he couldn’t. Chaz turned the other way, and when he did, four or five things snapped into his chest and neck, splattering something wet across his skin. After a moment, the fluid boiled.

  Instinctively, he glanced down and took a deep breath of the chloroform. More paintballs burst against his skin, and their contents flashed into chloroform. Chaz tried to wipe it away, tried to turn and run, but it was too late for either method of escape.

  When he fell, he crashed into the crushed back of the Cadillac, one arm smashing the tempered rear window.

  47

  “How long will they be out?” asked Shannon.

  “Not long. We need to get out of here,” said Toby. “How long has it been since you gassed the one in the tree?”

  Benny shrugged. “Um, I don’t know. Everything was‍—‍”

  “Yeah, I understand. We need to get out of here,” Toby repeated.

  “How? Chaz crushed the car?”

  “Pile in with me,” said Tom. “I’ll get you somewhere safe.”

  “You don’t realize what you’re offering,” said Toby, shaking his head.

  “My grandfather kept a car here,” said Greg. He pointed at the garage behind him. “In the garage. I bet it still runs.”

  “If I know Preston Peters, it’s in tiptop shape,” said Tom.

  “And we have the van,” said Shannon, holding up the keys.

  “Wait just a damn minute,” said Scott. “What about these demons? Can’t we…” He glanced at Tom Walton. “Can’t we take them out?”

  Toby turned to Greg and raised an eyebrow.

  “I can try, but…”

  “He doesn’t know what he did back at the hospital,” said Benny. “He acted on instinct, and the fire thing is something new, something he doesn’t understand yet.” Benny turned toward their new friend. “It’s okay, Greg. We’ll work on it.”