Please, watch over them.
The next floor was full of handbags and a large accessory area, perfume and makeup. We worked methodically, widdershins, step-by-step. We could hear our breathing, the scrape of my feet on the carpet, and the click of Shura’s nails where there was linoleum. That’s when I noticed the tapping coming from behind us. Tap-tap. Tap-tap. Double tap-tap. Two of them. Triple. More? Whatever made the tapping sounds followed our path and walked when we did; stopped when we stopped.
Shura and I shifted our eyes to take sideways glances at each other, and we exchanged a tense nod. Lockstep, we took three big, bunny hops and twisted to hide behind an enormous display of scarves. We peered around the display, hearts beating bird-like pitter-pats. I never, ever, expected what we saw.
Mannequins. Naked, eyeless, mouthless, mannequins, a horde of them, huddled next to each other as if for warmth, angled forward at the waists, studying us with non-existent eyes.
True fact. Wolves can scream louder than humans. Ask me how I know.
Chapter Nine
Shura yelped loud enough to make me think she’d been physically injured, so my first response was to do a once-over of her body to make sure she hadn’t been shot by an unseen enemy. I patted her down, looking for blood, but she pulled on the leash and yipped.
We fled for the hills, or more accurately, the escalators. They weren’t moving but we figured mannequins couldn’t do stairs without ankles. Surprise! The laws of biology and physics don’t apply with magic. Those naked mole-rats followed us right down to the bottom floor.
We continued to charge ahead, paying no attention to what we ran over, bumped into, or knocked down, but the mannequins kept pace, and, even with the tapping, it was difficult to estimate how far behind or close to us they were. My skin crawled, and my anxiety rose to the point that my lips were numb and my fingers tingled. Shura was so strong that she pulled away from me, so the leash was dragging on the ground.
Around and around we went, men’s clothing, big and tall, belts, shoes, more shoes, tuxes and ties, women’s undergarments, baby clothing, and home goods. We zigged and zagged, moving in sharp angles to avoid their outstretched arms. I spared a look over my shoulder and noticed two of them were child mannequins, which made me squawk and pick up speed.
We split up, and the mannequins paused, tilted their heads to the side, one even put its hand on its chin, and then split into two groups and followed us both. I needed to take these creepy Chuckies out, and I only had one idea. I rushed through home goods and slid full speed into tools and hardware, looking for what I needed. When I saw it, I grabbed it and pushed it in front of me. I was distracted by the terrifying Barbie and Ken dolls, so I ignored the new shiver of magic that ran up my spine.
The mannequins backed up, but two left the group to encircle me I didn’t even look. I just flung my tomahawk at the one on the right, and mannequin number one took it right in the face, going down like C-3P0 in the Genonosian execution arena. The second almost made it to me, but I executed a back kick, and he fell as well, losing a leg. He got up, but hopping wasn’t his strong suit, and he tumbled back over.
I turned my weapon on. It was a floor model industrial space heater, designed for warehouses and other spacious areas. It was meant to be plugged into an electric outlet, but it did have an enormous battery that would last a few hours in case of power outage. The battery made the thing super heavy, so I pushed it on the ground.
I hadn’t been certain that heat would bother them, but they were made of plastic, so it stood to reason that it might make them uncomfortable. Again, they split off, this time directly in two groups, one to my right and one to my left. It was a great tactic because I couldn’t heat both directions, which made me wonder who had made them. I rushed the ones to my right, pushing the mighty heater like a battering ram, and as they back peddled, they hit a pottery shelf and went down in a heap of clay shards. That was enough to slow them down, so, making sure the heat was still as high as it could go, I whirled to face the other crew, prepared to do as much damage as possible.
Except they weren’t attacking but rotating in a slow half circle to face the entranceway.
A deep red light gleamed in the darkness, dissipating into orange and yellow rings as the light came through the door. There was only one thing that made that kind of entrance, and I closed my eyes in disbelief.
The mannequins knew what the light meant as well, or at least the person controlling them did. Deciding not to kill me, they cleared the way, happy for me to go first. I turned off the space heater and tiptoed to the entrance. I was worried about Shura, and my mind cast about for a way to get out of this.
I spied Shura sneaking toward me, keeping to the shadows, and noticed that the wolf had disabled some of the mannequins with her teeth and claws. They lay discarded on the hard floor, flopping like fish in a bucket. Shura gagged and spit, wrinkling her nose at the taste. I almost smiled. I would have smiled if the red, orange, and yellow glow coming from the other side of the escalators didn’t mean what I thought.
I rubbed my hands over my face. First the mannequins, now a demon. Was there no one who didn’t know about this damn crystal ball? Was everyone in the paranormal community after it?
The answer was yes, because a smaller red portal opened in the floor, revealing long red fingers grasping the rim. Two beings hoisted themselves out of the portal, reminding me of five-year-olds exiting the deep end of the pool. They were imps, and they could have been doubles for Zric—same red skin, short stature, and hinged horns. Shura flopped to the ground and covered her eyes with her paws, no longer in fear, but in disbelief.
What happens when zombie mannequins, a demon, two imps, a monster hunter, and a wolf walk into a department store?
We were about to find out.
The imps scrambled to their feet and stared wide-eyed at the glowing flames coming from the other side of the escalator.
“Why is heeeeee here?” asked one, hitting the second on the shoulder so hard the imp fell backward and tumbled ass over teakettle.
The second imp rose to his feet and hit the first one upside the head with a vicious slap. “Why should I know, brother?” The second used the first’s name. It started with a “T” sound, but that was all I got.
“Because you were supposed to keep the information secret, knucklehead, and obviously you didn’t.” The first one elbowed the second. Again, something like a “T” name. I angled my head to listen more closely, but the “T” sound coupled with the “Z” sounds, along with the addition of a rolling “R,” made no sense to my ear. I decided to call them Tic and Tac.
Tac shoved his brother and hissed, “I kept the secret! You must have spilled it to that female you met at the lava pool, you cretin.”
“I didn’t.”
“You did!”
The brothers pushed and shoved each other, back-and-forth, until they were wrestling on the ground flapping their hands and legs, kicking and screeching. Tic pulled Tac’s horns while Tac yanked Tic’s tail. Tic screamed, and their tussle drew the attention of the demon we had yet to see. Shura and I ducked into the shadows and covered ourselves with coats.
“Who disturbs my trip to the surface world?” The demon’s voice thundered through the air, and the display jewelry tinkled, sounding like a flock of terrified birds. Tic and Tac jumped to their feet but couldn’t help elbowing each other. They smoothed their horns and slipped on masks of respect.
“Kokochar! Are you here? Wow, what a coincidence,” stammered Tic. “It’s good to see you, my lord.” Tac stepped on Tic’s toe, and Tic squeaked, jumping back several inches to rub his foot. Tic jammed his elbow into Tac’s back, and Tac backhanded Tic, who flew into a display of women’s underthings. He sat, stunned, with a bra on his head.
“Lord Kokochar, Purple One of Mucous and Terror, as you may know, our brother, Zric, was destroyed by the Monster Hunter in these parts, and his crystal ball has never been recovered. It is our intent to retrieve o
ur bother’s property and bring it to Hell, where it can be used in service of our prince.” Tac bowed so low that his horns scraped the floor.
Koko laughed, a breathless hiss that rose to an ear-piercing screech and settled into a subsonic chuckle. “Puny, weak imps, my teensy-tiny little pets, you will not retrieve the crystal ball. I will, and I will bring it to Lucifer myself, but it is amusing that you think you can fetch it.” Four of his arms wrapped around his bulbous body as he shook with laughter. The other two wiped his lower eyes. The upper eyes bore into the imps and displayed no humor.
Tic took a delicate step over the slime left in Koko’s wake as Koko’s massive purple snail body slithered across the floor. Koko’s antennae twitched in annoyance. I didn’t like the cagey look in Tic’s eyes.
“Oh, Great One, we will retrieve it for you and share the glory. We can move with ease in this world, while, you, I mean, you…” Tic trailed off when Koko leaned close. Tic swallowed and regained his courage.
“While, you, in your magnificence, might find these small human spaces to be insufficient for your comfort.”
Koko put all his hands on his…hips…and squeezed out an appendage that he tapped like a foot. I shuddered and wished I had closed my eyes. I would never un-see that. I used to think snails were amazing.
Koko touched his black tongue to the tip of his smaller nose as he considered what Tic had said. “You have a point, you overgrown rat. Perhaps I shall wait for you to find it, but if you don’t bring it to me, I will punish you until the end of time. Deal?”
Tic and Tac exchanged a quick glance and said, “Deal.” Both had their fingers crossed behind their backs.
Chapter Ten
The imps’ small hands hugged their bodies, but it turned out that putting their fingers behind their backs may not have been the best move, as the mannequins I’d been battling had joined their mutilated brethren on the floor, silent and sneaky as snakes in the grass, and slithered on their bellies toward the imps. They rose like cobras, striking fast and quick, and somehow, from somewhere, maws opened from their blank faces and bit the imps’ fingers. Both imps lost several digits. Their blood flowed to the floor, creating red lakes. Tic wobbled at the sight, and Tac had to hold him up. They were both hyperventilating in pain.
I shuddered as the demon howled with hysterical laughter but smiled in satisfaction as his good humor withered when the mannequins eased toward him, their gaping, impossible mouths chomping the air in futile, persistent bites.
Koko snarled, roaring his anger to the skylights, but backed off several mucus-y steps as he tried to figure out what to do with these maniacal, overgrown dolls.
“Are these my sister’s toys?” he bellowed. “Kikichar, do you seek the crystal ball as well as I? Forget it, you witch-demon! You always win, but not this time.”
A disembodied, tinny voice, like the speaker was far away, echoed in the room. “Sorry, my brother, but that crystal ball is mine. Do you like my friends?” The mannequins moved closer.
“Get up here and find it yourself, you cheater!” Koko yelled, slapping at the mannequins with big bulbous hands that manifested from his torso’s bulk.
“I don’t think so, Kokochar, my brother. I’m sorry, but you lose again.”
Koko kept slapping down plastic people like a pissed off mafioso, but his voice was whiney. “Just because you are a witch and a demon, you always got the nicer things. It’s my turn!” He stamped a slippery appendage of some kind. The imps tried to sneak behind him, but one of his arms grew two hands and caught them both by the throats.
“Stop being a big baby and get out of the way!” The voice was louder, and I became afraid the other demon might show up in person. We needed to get to that ball fast.
I elbowed Shura, and she got the hint. We scuttled backward to get out of the way and found ourselves in a dressing room. The dressing room had a door at the far right, which turned out to be a storage closet that shared another door with the home decor area of the store. We closed the door behind us, taking care to be quiet, but any sounds we made were drowned out by the fight between the three bad-guys factions.
I closed my eyes and took a calming breath, and then another, focusing on the tingle of magic I’d felt before.
“There it is, Shura. That way.” She followed my finger, and we walked toward the decorations area, full of dainty rugs, lamps, coasters, vases, and other delicate things that would never find their way to my house. I closed my eyes again and refocused. Anyone could sense magic, if they were trained to do so. You know that feeling when you have an itch on your back that is just out of reach? It feels like that.
I moved forward two more steps but lost the magic when I stepped behind the throw rugs and pillows. I reversed course until I felt it again and moved to the left, toward the holiday section, which was seasonal and had items marked “Clearance.” I tilted my head and felt for the magic again.
“There, Shura. It’s stronger over there.”
Her fur bristled, and she nodded, letting me know she felt it too. I held out my right hand, searching, searching, and boom! Got it.
The snow globes. Leftover Christmas snow globes sat on a sale rack, forlorn and lonely, and while most snow globes were only a few inches in diameter, in the back corner was a milky white globe the size of a bowling ball. Shura’s tongue lolled out of her mouth in a wolf smile, complete with teeth. It was meant to be pleasant. Really.
I reached out, my fingers slow and steady, and moved the snow globes standing in my way. Little alpine scenes tilted this way and that as I cleared the shelf of everything but the crystal ball. Ever so gingerly, I touched the ball with both hands, lifted it, and held it in between my palms. The world fell away, my vision a roiling blackness until an image emerged. It was my house, late afternoon, my kids playing tag with some friends in the back yard. Despite the happy scene, I had a sense of foreboding as I watched Nathaniel cross the deck to the grill, marinating chicken in a Tupperware container in his hand.
My mind searched the scene for the danger, my vision scurrying this way and that, trying to figure out what was happening and why I was being given this vision. All three of my kids were there. Nathaniel whistled to himself as he lit the grill. The other children laughed and screamed in glee as they got tagged, were freed, and then tagged again. One, two, three kids. One husband. Other children but no one I wouldn’t expect. What was wrong?
A new scene, Blaze and I out at night, staring at our roof. I held my tomahawk and Blaze’s wings were raised, poised for flight. A lump formed in the pit of my stomach.
My vision tunneled back, moving at whiplash speed, over houses, roads, golf courses, and shopping malls, until we raced past the suburbs and arrived downtown. A dark building, one in which I’d met Pascal before, came into view, and the vision slowed to show me that was our destination. The vision swooped in a window, and there was Pascal, staring into the crystal ball, using it to spy on my family.
I cried out and almost dropped the ball, but Shura leaned against my leg, giving me support and I recovered, gasping for breath, my heart pounding with fear.
“We have to destroy this ball, Shura. It isn’t safe to take it with us. Somehow, Pascal will get it, and he’ll use it to target my family. I think this is the danger you have been sensing.”
I crouched so Shura could put her nose to the ball. Her body tensed and quivered until she tore her face away. Her yellow eyes darkened, and she snarled under her breath. Yes, she saw what I saw. I had thought to use the ball for good, but it was too dangerous to hold onto it. It had to be destroyed. I briefly considered shattering it on the ground, but that didn’t feel like enough. It needed to be obliterated.
Before I could figure out my next steps, I felt heat at my back and heard a high-pitched chittering, coupled with uneven scraping sounds that made the back of my neck crawl. Shura and I turned to find Koko, the imps, and mannequins in various configurations of arms, legs, and missing limbs, staring at us. The scraping sounds cam
e from one standing mannequin, who’d somehow replaced a missing foot with a Nike sneaker.
My brain, which doesn’t always know when to speak up and when to shut up, opened my mouth, and I said, “Hey, that’s my gig. I’m always the one who winds up with one shoe on and one shoe off.”
They charged, and home decor would never be the same. I slashed with my tomahawk, cutting, slicing, and dicing, fueled by my need to get home and make sure everyone was safe. Shura grew two sizes larger, or at least it seemed that way, and she bit, clawed, and harried the mannequins until I could chop most of them to pieces. Koko reared back and, with a retching sound, hocked a giant loogie on the ground in front of me. I threw my body to the side to avoid it, but the gooey mucus was too much. I slipped and fell on my butt, hard. The jolt knocked the crystal ball lose, and it rolled across the floor and under the bed Shura and I had hidden under earlier.
I scrambled to get to the ball, but Tic and Tac jumped me from behind, and I lost my ‘hawk. I didn’t worry too much about that because it always seemed to find me, but I was down to fists without it. My bag was where I’d left it, by the snow globes.
The imps scrambled over me like monkeys in a tree. I swatted at them, smacking their faces while they pulled my hair and ripped my shirt. Shura leapt on one of the boys and dragged him away while I reached wildly for anything I could find. My hand grabbed a pillow, and I squeezed it between me and the remaining imp and smashed it to his face, suffocating him until he reared off me, gnashing his teeth in anger. I flipped to my side, clambered to my feet, and dove for my bag.
Koko, Tic and Tac, and all the Barbies and Kens stood in a circle, pointing at the crystal ball on the floor, which somebody had retrieved and planted in the middle of their tête-à-tête. The demon and the imps yelled at each other, the imps standing their ground to the more powerful demon while the mannequins pointed and stomped their ludicrous feet. Kiki’s thin voice melded into the larger mêlée.
The Devil's Been Busy Page 24
