by Michael Todd
“He’s got the mic in his hand right now,” Katie continued. “He’s singing into it, and he has a Steven Tyler sash tied to the stand.”
Oh, for fuck’s sake, Pandora growled. Will you two fucking shut up already?
Pandora reached from Katie’s chest into the senator’s and yanked his demon out. Both the senator and the demon screamed and growled.
Then the senator passed out.
Let’s just kill him and go get dinner. I don’t have time for you two to pussyfoot around, Pandora spat, dissolving the demon and sending it back to hell.
“Someone has her panties in a twist,” Stephanie remarked. “We have time for one more before dinner. Come onnnn…it’s a club just seven blocks away.”
This is so annoying, Pandora grumped.
“Mmmm. Yeah, I’m up for another one.” Katie agreed, taking one last look at the unconscious senator. “This time we should leave Eric in an alley, though. I’m sure he will love it.”
Stephanie chuckled as they left the room. “Poor Eric. He always gets the short end of the stick.”
“What else do we have to do other than fuck with each other?” Katie giggled.
They walked out the front door to be greeted by the moon over the bay, and Stephanie took a deep breath and skipped down the walkway to the street. Katie looked down at the guard who had given her such a tough time. He was groaning as he tried to pick himself up off the ground.
“Stay down there, buddy.” She kicked him in the head.
He dropped again. “You’ll thank me in the morning…or not. Either way, sweet dreams.”
Derek sat on the cool cement floor, opening boxes and checking the contents off his list.
He was having a full nerd-out, excited to receive his computers so quickly. The new base was really coming along, and would be fully operational very soon.
Stephanie had put everything she had into getting the place going, whenever she wasn’t hunting down demon-infested bigwig scumbags.
The team had made the base secure, erecting a twelve-foot-high chain-link fence with concertina wire billowing across the top of it that ran past the new buildings they were working on and was about three hundred yards out from the edge of the original compound. The rest of the area had been cleaned up and painted, and the new concrete pads had been poured. Derek was happy to be able to start his project. He had hoped a new computer workspace would be part of the move, and Korbin had not disappointed him.
“So, uh, what exactly is this whole thing going to do?” Calvin asked, pulling cords out of one of the boxes and looking at them in confusion.
“This will be a server room,” Derek replied. “I’ve got three 72u stacks with multiple redundancy and three connections to the internet. It would have been smaller, but thank fuck the military was here before us. Korbin would have blanched at the cost of running cable out to the middle of nowhere.”
“Okay,” Calvin lifted an eyebrow, “but what does it DO?”
“It’s surveillance, it’s research, and it’s operations,” Derek said excitedly. “It’s a window to the outside world before we set foot in it. All I need now are a couple of high-powered drones.”
“Uh, where does this dongle go?” Calvin asked, standing up and looking around.
“God.” Derek rolled his eyes and marching over. “That’s not a dongle, this is a—"
“Hey, hey!” Calvin put his hands in the air. “You don’t need to show me your bigger dongle. I think I’m good on that one.”
“You are impossible,” Derek replied, chuckling.
“Hey, you’re the weird IT guy here, with your dongles, dingles, shafts, and whatever else you got hidden in those boxes.” Calvin laughed. “Don’t blame me.”
The Seventy-Two were an enigmatic group of demons with their own structure and authority. T’Chezz might have been part of that Seventy-Two, but he was certainly not on the top rung.
The Seventy-Two were comprised of three levels, with each level having three sections of eight.
T’Chezz knew the math, and he also knew how difficult it was to work your way up the ranks. He was presently standing in front of several of the higher-ups, who were sitting around a large circular table in a leisurely fashion. This was his chance to pitch himself and make his future plans known. He was nervous—times like this were pretty much the only time he ever got nervous—but if he had these demons’ support he could solidify the next steps in his plans.
T’Chezz looked at each of the five faces and, swallowing hard, moved forward, his big feet shuffling. When he reached the table he clasped his large hands in front of him and cleared his throat. Five of the eight prime-level demons were in the room, including Moloch, Asmodeus, Ba’al, Belial, and Azazel. None of them seemed very interested in listening to him, and T’Chezz knew there were several demons vying to move up the ladder right now.
“My plan starts out simply enough,” T’Chezz began. “We’ll infiltrate Earth by taking over as many human bodies as possible, then my minions will assume leadership of each of the countries. Once I rule the entirety of the planet I’ll create a new hell, or like the humans say, ‘Hell on Earth.’”
“That is very ambitious.” Moloch leaned back and looked at T’Chezz.
“I agree.” Asmodeus nodded. “Going against the entire world, even country by country, seems a bit ambitious. And why isn’t Lucifer’s wife with us, as she normally would for an interview such as this?”
T’Chezz looked at the ground, unsure what to say to that. It was true, she wasn’t there. He had done his best to make sure she would never be at the table again.
There were multiple ways to climb the ladder of success.
“Perhaps she was not interested in hearing T’Chezz’s plan,” Moloch suggested.
Damn, Moloch was helping him. That was unexpected.
When he was successful, they would have no choice but to take notice of what he had done. It would be grand; bigger than anything the Seventy-Two had ever accomplished, and it would be something to hoist him up the ranks to where he ultimately wanted to be.
T’Chezz was in the second section of eight in the top level, and his goal was to work his way up to the top eight.
He knew through his sources that there were three seats open on the top level, and he deserved to be in one of them. He had served Lucifer faithfully for centuries by doing his bidding, keeping things tight and neat, and taking care of the loose ends, but he had become restless.
He wanted more. He wanted a seat at the table in front of him, and he was tired of just sitting around waiting for it to happen. He wanted more troops to command, more slaves, and a say in his own existence.
He would take what he wanted from the humans, including that bitch of a sister of his, and he would make the top-level demons give him his rightful place.
All he had to do at this point was figure out how to get around the new weapons. He still hadn’t gotten his hands on one—or the maker, for that matter—and that posed a fundamental problem. This issue was becoming a serious thorn in his side.
And as if they could read his mind—and they might be able to—Ba’al spoke up just then.
“Humans are interesting creatures. I haven’t been topside in a few decades, but I’m sure they haven’t changed all that much. One thing they do have is gusto. Have there been any issues so far?”
“Actually,” T’Chezz replied in a low tone, “one thing is giving me a bit of a problem.”
“You aren’t speaking of your sister, are you?” Moloch sighed. “It would be a shame if she were to be your undoing.”
“I am not worried about her. She is not an issue,” T’Chezz told them, his eyes inadvertently flicking to an empty chair.
A chair that should be his. Irritation was building inside of him. “The humans have new weapons, something that injures the demon inside the human body. They can be lethal.”
“What?” Belial looked at Azazel. “I thought we took care of that issue.”
&n
bsp; “Yes, well it seems they outsmarted us, Belial,” Azazel replied. “I am not too worried. Humans tend to self-destruct.”
“I find it concerning,” Asmodeus interjected, “that they are fighting back. That’s just what I didn’t want to see.”
“Well, boys,” Ba’al yelled above their loud voices. “Let’s just see what T’Chezz can do with this. I mean, it’s better to know and plan accordingly than to not know. Right, T’Chezz?”
He nodded, feeling as if Ba’al’s comment was more of a warning than an opportunity.
Chapter Two
The alley was dark and smelled like sewage. It was just a fantastic environment for Eric, who was waiting for Stephanie and Katie to finish their mission.
“Stinks like rotten toe fungus in six-day-old socks.” He was bitching up a storm. He still didn’t understand how he had gotten roped into the whole thing.
Korbin hadn’t wanted the women to go to San Francisco by themselves, so he had sent Eric to watch their backs. So far that had meant he had sat in dark alley after dark alley.
“Oh, yeah, sure. ‘This won’t take long. Why don’t you just stay outside?’ they said.” Eric mumbled angrily to himself as he kicked an empty Mad Dog bottle toward the dumpster. “You forgot to mention it was fucking COLD in San Fran, Katie! And these alleys are goddamn dark.”
Eric looked around for someone to confirm his grievances, but then remembered he was alone.
There weren’t even any fucking cats back here, which said something. The rats were too ferocious for the cats to come after them for fucking dinner. He stared at the metal fire escape above him, which had water dripping from the railings.
There was a scream in the distance and Eric shook his head, shoving his hands in his pockets.
“This is pure and utter bullshit,” Eric grumbled, pulling his cell out of his pocket and flipping through the screens. “I don’t even have anyone to talk to. I thought this demon-hunting shit would be exciting.”
He sighed, closing his phone and leaning against the wall.
It wasn’t what he expected, sure, but it was a hell of a lot better than where he came from. At least he had a purpose now, even if it was being the lookout for a couple of wild demon hunters.
Just then another scream rang out, but this one was closer and louder. He straightened up.
The back door was flung open wildly and a man bolted out, screaming at the top of his lungs. Eric had parked the SUV at one end of the alley with the running lights on and he stood in the shadows of the other end—just in case. Whoever this was, he was heading straight for him.
Eric squinted down the dark alley to see more, but there was a shadow across the guy’s face from the lights of the SUV behind him. He figured it was worth the risk of harming an innocent; as the guy moved closer Eric stepped out of the shadows and cold-cocked him. The screaming stopped immediately and the guy hit the ground like a sack of potatoes. Eric winced as he shook his hand out.
“Damn, dude, you got a strong jaw,” he remarked, bending over the guy. “Let’s see who in the hell I just knocked the hell out.”
He rifled through his pockets, but he found nothing more than a comb, some gum, and two different pieces of paper with girl’s numbers on them. Eric chuckled, crumpling the notes and throwing them over his shoulder.
“Sorry, buddy. You won’t be using those to lure unsuspecting girls into your demon lair. What else you got in there? Huh…nothing? How you gonna call a girl without a cell phone?”
He reached into the guy’s inner jacket pocket and pulled out a business card, but unless the guy’s name was Cynthia and he worked at the Downtown Salon it wasn’t his. Eric straightened up for a moment, dumbfounded that in today’s day and age someone would go out without money, ID, or anything else, for that matter.
He bent over again to part the man’s eyelids and shined his flashlight into his eyes, but there was nothing; at least, nothing that would peg him as demon-infected. No red rings, just a passed-out dude in the alley behind a San Francisco bar.
“Well, sorry, fella,” Eric told the unconscious man. “Guess you were an innocent bystander. I have to say though, you got a set of lungs on you. I’m pretty sure they heard you screaming like an idiot all the way in Las Vegas.”
Eric stood back up and tossed the guy’s gum on his chest, looking around before grabbing his legs and pulling him behind the dumpster. The last thing he needed was someone looking down the alley and seeing a body.
What the girls were doing was already dangerous enough. He didn’t need extra attention because he’d knocked out some civilian who was probably taking cover from the girls inside.
The sound of glass breaking in the bar caught Eric’s attention and he thought about going in, but he really didn’t want attitude from the girls.
They had this. He knew it, but after knocking out an innocent person he felt the need to redeem himself by kicking demon ass. Still, he had promised to stay put. He knew one thing about Katie for sure: she had a reason for everything she did, even if it was to torture him and make him miserable.
After all, they were like brother and sister; it was her job to pick on his ass. He shrugged and walked to the SUV, reaching in and flipping off the lights. The moon was bright enough to see anyone coming out. He looked down at his watch and sighed.
“What the hell are they doing in there, anyway?”
“Come here, you rat bastard,” Stephanie shouted, grabbing one of the possessed by the collar and breaking a beer bottle over his head. “I didn’t come here for you, but I’ll take you nonetheless.”
Katie chuckled as she backed toward the bar. Two infected were eyeing her, and one took a step toward her. She wagged her finger at him.
“Nah ah ah,” she taunted. “You know the rules.”
“There are no rules,” the possessed growled.
“Exactly.” Katie coldcocked him as Stephanie ran up and knocked the other guy over the head with a bar stool. Katie winced. “That’s definitely going to leave a mark.”
Stephanie walked over and grabbed a cosmo off the bar.
“Sooo, how was your day?” Stephanie smiled.
“Well, I…” Katie frowned as Stephanie took off after a demon across the room. “Hey, I wasn’t done talking yet!” she called.
Katie shrugged and turned to the drinks on the bar. “Oh well, I’ll just do a little taste test.”
She moved down the bar, taking a sip of every drink along the way.
“Hmm, I give this one a seven out of ten. Good taste, terrible presentation,” she commented, looking at the bartender, who was cowering in the corner. “This one, though…” She tapped the rim of the glass. “I have to say, you hit the mark, my friend.”
“Heads up!” Stephanie shouted.
The bartender nervously nodded to Katie before jumping back as a demon-possessed flew over the bar, crashing into the wall and dropping to the floor.
Stephanie laughed and jumped onto the pool table, kicking a man in the face in mid-leap. She picked up the cue ball and chucked it across the room, nailing a red-eyed woman in the back of the head and wincing as she broke a table on her way to the floor.
“Whoops.”
Katie moved down to another drink and wiggled her eyebrows at the bartender. She stirred it with the straw and took a sip, but immediately spat it out and wiped her mouth.
“Holy hell, what was that?”
“G-g-gin,” the bartender stuttered.
“Oh, Christmas trees in a glass. Got it.” She glanced at someone crawling across the floor, trying to stay in the shadows. “And who do we have here?”
The man, who was wearing a dress shirt and pants, crawled rapidly toward the back door. Katie walked forward and stepped on his leg, tilting her head sideways. The man straightened and put his hands in the air.
“Please,” he whimpered.
That’s him, Pandora told her. And I can’t believe you don’t like gin. If you had the good kind, I promise it wouldn’t tas
te like Pine Sol.
I don’t really want to spend the money to find out. Katie leaned down and grabbed the guy’s collar. “Come here a minute, buddy, I want to ask you a few questions about the campaign contributions you’ve been taking over the last few months.”
The guy whimpered, his feet dangling as Katie lifted him into the air. He didn’t say a word, just choked on his own spit, terrified of what was going to happen. Katie sighed and shook her head, reaching into his jacket pocket and flipping open his wallet to see his ID.
“Yep, it’s you all right, and I have to say, you take a good driver’s license picture,” she said. “Good for you, I just look like I have seven chins and I walked through a hurricane to get there.”
A loud crash behind her made her cringe and the politician’s eyes darted past her. Stephanie was still taking care of the riffraff—which was fun and all, but Katie’s stomach was growling. Katie smiled at the guy and looked at Stephanie, who was finishing up the last demon in the group.
“We got the rat,” Katie yelled to her. “Time to go.”
“I was just starting to have fun,” Stephanie responded, breaking a pool cue over a barely conscious demon. “Just five more minutes. Please, Mom?”
“Nope. Pull them together for a fast extraction, then time to hit the road.” Katie chuckled. “But first, me and this guy have a little bit to talk about.”
“I swear I don’t know what you are talking about,” he whined. “I didn’t take any contributions.”
“Really?” she replied, pulling a piece of paper out of her back pocket. “It says here you took over a million dollars from a fund for sick kids. Well, that’s just fucked up, but I don’t blame you.”
“You don’t?” he whimpered.
“No,” Katie replied, looking at him with red eyes. “I blame your demon.”
“You are so theatrical.” Stephanie laughed as Pandora’s demon arm came out of Katie’s chest.
Stephanie looked at the bartender to give her some backup, but all he did was pass out behind the bar. Stephanie pursed her lips and sighed, jumping down from the table.
