Location, Location, Damnation

by Nick Moseley

  'No!' Granddad cried. Kolley, who had been restraining the old man, shoved him to the floor.

  Trev gritted his teeth, feeling a hard knot of anger forming beneath the layers of fatigue and pain. Yet again someone had been hurt trying to protect him, and yet again he'd been scrabbling about on the floor when it happened. It was getting embarrassing.

  Agatha was couching over Oscar's prone body, holding out a hand as if to stroke him. Granddad was trying to get up, but Kolley kept pushing him back down.

  'You need not struggle,' said Kökwimpaal, advancing on Trev. The kris was back in its hand. 'I will bring you peace.'

  'Piss… right… off,' hissed Trev through his teeth. He reached out with his supernatural senses in the hope that there were some wisps of energy drifting about that he could use, enough to make a last stand. It didn't seem likely that there would be, but he opened himself up as wide as he could to draw in even the tiniest amount.

  He hadn't taken into account the energy barrier around the Cage.

  In the split-second before he lit up like Elton John's Christmas tree, Trev got a very detailed insight into how the Cage worked. The metal inlays in the pillars, floor and ceiling worked to draw in and focus psychic energy, trapping it in a closed circuit. It was this wall of energy that Trev had inadvertently tapped into.

  It felt like he'd swallowed the Sun. In a sudden rush, he became acutely aware of every nerve ending in his body. It was as if he was burning, but there was no pain. His heightened senses threatened to overwhelm him and all his muscles thrummed with borrowed power. The energy continued to flood into him until the Cage's barrier was gone altogether.

  Trev took in a wheezing breath. As he let it back out again it was accompanied by a glowing white mist. It was also leaking from his nose, ears, eyes and from under his fingernails. Even his skin itself was faintly luminous. His body had taken in more energy than it could hold and the excess was escaping.

  'Good lord,' said Granddad, stunned.

  Trev leapt to his feet. He underestimated the extra strength the energy had given him and jumped so high he nearly cracked his head on the ceiling. He did a little Muhammad Ali-style shimmy on the spot, noting that the pain from his injuries was gone.

  Kökwimpaal's smug expression had at last been wiped from its face, replaced by one of open-mouthed shock.

  'How?' it said.

  'Dumb luck, mostly,' replied Trev with a shrug. His voice had an odd metallic quality to it.

  Kökwimpaal's eyes narrowed as it surveyed the interior of the Cage. 'Do you realise, human, that in draining the barrier you have freed me?'

  'Yeah, I noticed that,' Trev said. He smiled. 'Thing is, though, if you want to get out you'll have to get past me.'

  Forty-Five

  Kökwimpaal didn't bother to answer. Instead, it let loose a thunderous battle cry, raised its sword and charged Trev. The room actually shook with the vibration of the demon's roar. Trev stood and faced down the charge, looking unconcerned and even a little bored, as if he were doing nothing more stressful than waiting for a bus.

  Kökwimpaal took a bounding stride, its sword cleaving through the air in a blow intended to split Trev's skull. The demon put all its strength behind the swing, determined to end the fight with a single strike.

  Trev watched the sword arc toward his head, then simply stuck out a glowing hand and caught it. The blow didn't inflict any damage at all.

  Kökwimpaal managed to skid to a halt without crashing into Trev, its attention locked on its sword and an expression of complete bafflement on its face. The battle cry tailed off into a sound that could quite easily have been a whimper.

  'I'm just as surprised as you are, actually,' said Trev. He looked at the demon's weapon, which was still clamped in his glowing hand. 'You know, I think I might have an even better trick than that. Check this out.'

  Energy poured out of his palm, running up and down the blade. The weapon immediately began to crackle and smoke as the demonic essence it was composed of was destroyed. Kökwimpaal bellowed with shock and pain – the sword was, after all, a part of its body – and tried to wrench the blade free from Trev's grasp. It failed. Within a few seconds the sword had evaporated, burned away to nothing. While his opponent was still reeling, Trev reached out with his now empty hand and gave the demon a shove. There was enough power behind the impact to send Kökwimpaal sprawling, although it was able to use the momentum to tuck into a roll and land back on its feet.

  'Payback – it’s a bitch,' said Trev. He rolled his right shoulder and there was a loud click as it popped back into place. It didn't hurt, although he knew that was only a side-effect of the energy overload. Once that wore off there was a very good chance he was going to spend the next few days with his eyes watering, but until then…

  'Come on then, Cock-pimple,' he called to the demon. 'Do you still want my soul or not?'

  Kökwimpaal snarled with rage and leapt forward. It didn't use any more of its essence to create another sword, choosing instead to attack with a flurry of kicks and punches. Trev dodged back and to the side, ducking and weaving like a boxer and staying just outside the demon's reach. It was quite funny to watch the anger and frustration growing on his opponent's face as it failed to land a hit, but Trev was secretly wondering how he could finish Kökwimpaal off. There was no way that the demon was going to stand there and let him repeat the trick he'd used on the sword with, say, a limb. Or its head.

  He decided that he was over-complicating things, so he stepped forward and punched Kökwimpaal in the face as hard as he could.

  The demon didn't manage a back-flip the second time. It did perform a somersault of sorts, but it was unintentional. Any further gymnastic manoeuvres were prevented by one of the Cage's pillars, which acted as a backstop. Shards of stone and broken pieces of the metal inlays were sent clattering across the room by the impact. Kökwimpaal slumped to the floor, dazed.

  'Float like a butterfly, sting like a Tyrannosaurus Rex on steroids,' said Trev. He coughed. 'Maybe you should… ngh… just bugger off back to your… ack… own dimension now.'

  He coughed again. The burning sensation he'd felt when the energy had first entered his system was intensifying, and it was beginning to hurt. His lungs seemed to have tightened up, making breathing difficult.

  'Trevor!' called Agatha.

  Trev shook his head, trying to clear it, and swivelled his eyes to focus on her.

  'You have to release the energy, quickly!' Agatha continued. 'Your body can't contain it, it's just too much. It'll kill you, Trevor!'

  Behind her, Kolley was reeling against one of the bookcases, clutching at his head. Evidently the rough stuff Trev had been meting out to Kökwimpaal had weakened the demon's control over its vessel. Granddad was struggling to get back on his feet despite using the desk for support.

  'But how will I… urgh… deal with the demon?' Trev asked, fighting the growing pain. His head was throbbing and he could feel his heartbeat becoming fast and irregular.

  'Get rid of it! Do it now!' Agatha snapped, with genuine fear in her voice.

  A scrabbling sound drew Trev's attention back to Kökwimpaal. The demon had managed to stand up again. Black essence streamed from its face, which was cratered and split where Trev's energy-laden blow had connected.

  'YOU WILL NOT DEFEAT ME!' it roared. It flung itself at Trev, clearing the distance between them in a single jump. Panicked, Trev did the only thing he could – he forced the energy from his system in the hope that it would drive the demon back.

  It worked, and quite a lot better than he was expecting.

  Streams of glowing white power blasted forth from Trev's hands, eyes and mouth, striking Kökwimpaal mid-leap and slamming it back into the pillar behind it. Already weakened from the previous impact, the pillar shattered. Kökwimpaal crashed through it and into the wall which divided the two cellars. The energy pinned it there, writhing.

  Trev kept up the pressure. The demon's essence was seared away under the
beams of energy and its body began to shrivel and blacken. It thrashed and struggled but it was unable to break free of the burning light. Trev felt like an evil little boy using a magnifying glass to set fire to an ant.

  Kökwimpaal unleashed a final ear-rending shriek. White cracks appeared all over its charred body, spreading rapidly. The demon's eyes locked onto Trev's.

  'I… will not… forget,' it choked out, and then it exploded. Small chunks of essence, the consistency of fine gravel, were scattered across the room.

  Trev hadn't been expecting Kökwimpaal to go out in such dramatic style. He flinched back, lost his balance, and landed on his backside. The beams of energy scorched the ceiling as he fell, but they were already dwindling and by the time he'd recovered they had died away.

  There was a crash. Trev turned to see that Kolley had keeled over and was lying sprawled on the floor. The tycoon looked like he was still breathing, although Trev didn't want to think about the possible damage caused to the man's mind by having the demon's control so suddenly torn away.

  'You did it!' cried Agatha in an unusual display of excitement. 'Well done, Trevor.'

  'Lucky bastard,' said Oscar, who was still lying on the floor. There was some blood on his fur, but his smug expression remained intact. 'Couldn't have done it without me, you know.'

  Granddad seemed to be temporarily speechless. He looked at Trev with shining eyes and grinned before giving him an enthusiastic thumbs-up. Trev returned the gesture with a trembling hand and turned back to look at Sarah.

  She was awake and had propped herself up on one elbow. As far as Trev could tell she was unharmed. She was staring at him with a shocked expression. Her eyes wandered to the cellar wall where Kökwimpaal's outline had been burned into the brickwork and her jaw worked up and down as if she were trying to say something but couldn't summon up the words.

  Trev clambered to his feet and took an inventory of his injuries, which took quite a long time. His torn thigh was making its presence felt and he had to shift all his weight to his other leg. His shoulder pulsed with knifelike stabs of pain and his chest throbbed where the demon had shoved him. On top of that his skin was pink and sore as though the energy had sunburned him and his eyes were watering uncontrollably. Just to complete the effect, his clothes were smouldering a little.

  He limped in Sarah's direction, wincing to a halt next to her.

  'You OK?' he wheezed.

  'What was… where did… how did you do that?' she stammered. She dragged her gaze away from the blackened cellar wall and looked Trev up and down. 'Bloody hell, are you… all right?'

  'Don't worry about me, I'm a trained professional,' Trev replied, and fainted.

  When he came to, he was lying on the cellar floor with Granddad's jumper tucked under his head as a makeshift pillow. Agatha was kneeling beside him, passing her hand across his body in slow sweeps. A soothing coldness flowed from her palm, numbing some of the pain from his injuries. Trev remembered seeing her do the same thing to Oscar after Kökwimpaal had kicked him.

  Trev caught her eye. 'Thanks,' he said. She nodded.

  'Welcome back,' said Granddad. He was sitting at the writing desk. Sarah was perched on the other chair, staring down at Trev with a blank expression. 'How do you feel?'

  'Every bit as bad as I look,' Trev replied.

  'That bad?' said Oscar. 'Better forget calling an ambulance and send for a hearse instead.'

  'I see your smart-arse mouth came through unscathed,' muttered Trev.

  'About the only part of me that did,' the cat replied. 'One of my front legs is broken and the less said about my ribs, the better. Next time I'm just going to let the demon kill you, I think.'

  'Bloody hell, don't say "next time",' said Trev. 'No more demons for me, please.' He looked up at Sarah. 'Are you OK? I never got an answer from you last time I asked.'

  Sarah was looking at him with undisguised concern. 'I think the question is, are you OK? Because you're talking to yourself.'

  'No, I'm talking to Osc-' Trev broke off, remembering that Sarah couldn't hear Oscar and couldn't even see Agatha. 'Um. Just getting my thoughts in order. Bumped my head back there. What about you, then?'

  'I'm all right,' Sarah replied, but with little conviction. 'Well, physically anyway. Was that purple… thing really a demon?'

  'If it wasn't, it was doing a blinding impersonation of one,' Trev said.

  Sarah shuddered. 'And you killed it?'

  'Banished it,' said Granddad. 'If you wanted to kill a demon you'd have to do it in its own plane of existence. All we can do here, is send them back there.'

  'So you're what?' asked Sarah. 'Some sort of superhero or something?'

  'Don't, it hurts when I laugh,' said Oscar.

  Trev ignored him. 'No, I'm not. Well, I've got some powers, obviously, but my control over them is pretty negligible. I was just very, very lucky tonight.'

  Sarah frowned. 'It didn't look like luck to me. How did I end up here, anyway? The last thing I remember is waiting in the taxi queue chatting to this red-haired man, then all of a sudden I'm in there,' she indicated the remains of the Funkelay Cage, 'with the, er, demon.' She shook her head.

  'That "red-haired man" kidnapped you,' Trev explained. 'His name's Corbyn and he's a vampire. They can use hypnosis, that's why you don't remember it too well.'

  'Vampire?' echoed Sarah. 'Seriously?' Trev nodded. 'This is too much.'

  'You wanted spooky, you got it,' said Trev, a little unkindly.

  Sarah crossed her arms as if she was feeling cold. 'I'm not sure I wanted it this close.'

  'As I've been finding out, you don't get much choice,' grumbled Trev. He raised an eyebrow at Granddad. 'How's Kolley?'

  Granddad shrugged. 'He's unconscious, but his breathing and pulse are strong. Much beyond that I can't say. I'm worried though.'

  'Brain damage?'

  'It's possible. I don't know what effect the demon being banished would have on someone under its control at the time. Its essence would've stayed in Kolley's system. It might still be there now. It'll degrade over time, of course, but it could do all sorts of damage before it does.'

  Trev sat up so that he could get a clearer view of Kolley's prone body. 'What do we do? It's not like we can take him to hospital and tell the A&E people that we think he might have brain damage due to demonic possession, is it?'

  Granddad raised his hand, which had his mobile phone in it. 'I've called the Custodians. Their team is on the way – at last – and should be here any minute. Custodian field operatives have a lot of experience dealing with this sort of thing, so I want to get their advice before making any decisions.'

  'Why would Alastair Kolley summon a demon anyway?' wondered Sarah. 'I always thought he seemed like a genuinely nice guy.'

  Granddad gave her a weak smile. 'It's a cliché to say that appearances can be deceptive, but that's only because it's true so often.'

  'You said it,' said Trev. 'As for the "why", well, it's a long story but like most of Kolley's life it revolves around publicity.' He hauled himself to his feet, which was quite an effort with one arm and one leg out of commission. He nodded at a pile of books that sat on the desk in front of Granddad. 'Anything in there that tells us who Kolley's accomplice was?'

  'No,' replied Granddad. 'It looks like Kolley Senior accumulated a rather comprehensive catalogue of occult texts, though.' He waved a hand at the bookcases. 'Das Geheimnis der Runen, Crowley's Rites of Eleusis, the Dictionnaire Infernal… there's even a genuine copy of the Necronomicon.' He indicated a large book on one of the upper shelves. Trev reached for it. 'I wouldn't. It's bound in human skin.'

  'Urgh,' said Trev, hastily withdrawing his hand. 'So how are we going to find the bloke?' He frowned. 'Assuming it is a bloke, come to think of it. It could easily be a woman, couldn't it?'

  'We'd be wise to keep our minds open until we can question Alastair,' agreed Granddad. 'I had a quick look through a few of his father's diaries while you were unconscious, though I didn
't find any clues in there. I did read a number of entries that made my skin crawl, mind you. I can't believe the Custodians never got wind of the things he was up to, we really missed a trick there.' He sighed. 'I hate to say it, but it's a good thing for us that he over-reached himself in the way he did, or God only knows what he might have done by now.'

  'What sort of stuff was he up to?' asked Sarah.

  Granddad shifted uncomfortably in his seat, but was spared from having to provide an answer by a loud groan from Kolley. The tycoon opened his eyes, coughed and sat up.

  'Where…am I?' he croaked.

  'In the cellar of your house,' said Trev, shooting his companions a worried look.

  'Right,' said Kolley. He scrambled to his feet and leaned against the nearest bookcase for support. 'My head's thumping. What happened to me?'

  'You were… y'know… showing us round the place, and you, sort of, fell and hit your head,' Trev supplied.

  Kolley stared at him. 'I see,' he said. His eyes narrowed. 'Wait a minute. Who are you people?'

  'I'm Bernard Simms,' said Granddad. 'I write for the Brackenford Crier. This is my grandson Trevor. We interviewed you about the attempt on your life at the KolleyCo re-opening earlier in the week, remember?'

  'I'm a friend of Trev's,' added Sarah helpfully. 'Nice to meet you. Er, again.'

  'Right,' said Kolley a second time. He looked from Trev to Granddad, then to Sarah and back to Trev again. His frown deepened. 'So… who am I?'

  Forty-Six

  Trev sat in the squeaky chair in Granddad's office and tried to get comfortable, which was made difficult by the fact that his arm was in a sling and his thigh was heavily strapped. The dressings were irritating him, although on the plus side he was pleasantly dosed up with painkillers, which meant that Granddad hadn't forced the obligatory gentleman's measure of Scotch on him.