by Rob Horner
I nodded, remembering the bursts of purple light shot from the rifles that seemed to do something similar, freezing demons in place and forcing them back into human form.
As we arrived, the first two vans drove off, large, black boxes on wheels with no identifying logos or names. The back windows were so heavily tinted as to appear part of the doors.
The back doors on the third and fourth vehicles were just closing. I caught glimpses of black on black clothing as men and women sat side by side on facing benches. One woman in the fourth van appeared to be crying, while someone next to her offered an arm around her shoulders as support.
"The next to last van was for the team at the West Post," James said quietly. "We're in the sixth."
"About time," Iz said in his gruff voice. He was standing between the last two vehicles, directing a few remaining soldiers to stow their excess gear in the fifth van.
"The Alpha tore through the barrier, Iz," James reported. "We've only got a minute at most before they catch us."
"Then climb in," he said, quickly slamming the doors on the van and giving the side of the chassis a hard smack.
"Come on," James said, ducking his head as he stepped into the dark interior of the van. He moved halfway up before finding a seat on the right side next to Gina, who already had her helmet off, red hair a sweat-matted mess.
I didn't have to go with them.
I could stay and try to fight the demons, or run away, come back another time. I should at least go to Mrs. Fields, tell her what happened, reassure her...of what? That I would do everything in my power to get her daughter back?
I seemed to be doing such a good job of that lately. First Tanya, then Crystal. No, first the young man with the power to make people invisible. I saved him, then left him, an unconscious sitting duck. And they made him a demon again. And then the group of people back by the barricades. I couldn't help that banishing a demon rendered the victim unconscious for hours. So, what was the alternative? It went against my sense of right and wrong to leave them possessed, but was saving them only to have them reinfected worse than leaving them alone? If only I could be sure of saving one...
My gaze turned back to the idling vans, but my thoughts followed the ones that had already left. I hadn't seen the girl since Iz ran by with her on his shoulder. Had they taken her with them?
Other than the lack of people, the carnival looked undisturbed, not like a military force and a horde of demons had just fought a battle, but more like it had closed for the night, and would be ready for a new round of fun and merriment the next day. Even the smoke rising a couple dozen yards away from the burning Quarter Pitch was thinning out, looking more like the grayish stuff off a grill rather than the black and sooty byproduct of burning wood, plastic, and demon-tainted stuffing.
"In or out, Johnny. No more rubber-necking," Iz growled, slamming one of the two back doors.
The howls of the demons reached us. In just a few seconds, they'd come tearing out of the carnival, running straight for the vans.
I got in.
Iz climbed in after me, closing the second door.
Two benches ran the length of the van, one on each side. Feeling the brakes let up and the vehicle starting to move, I dropped onto the bench on the left side across from Gina. James had his helmet off now, revealing a young face with expressive brown eyes, hair cut short.
On Gina's right side sat an older woman, maybe mid to late thirties, with lanky brown hair and dark eyes. A recent wound marred the left side of her face, an angry, red slash that ran from the side of her nose almost to her jawline. It had been sutured but looked relatively new. The lack of any other women told me this had to be Angelica.
Iz took the bench on my side, closest to the wall separating the driver and co-pilot from the back of the van. Grunting, he removed his helmet. His features were as gruff as his voice, a grizzled veteran with that chewed skin look to his face and neck which comes from a combination of long hours in the sun and too many shaves with bad razors. He could have been anywhere from forty to sixty years old.
Little Jack sat across from Iz, identifiable by the width of his shoulders and the size of his arms, threatening to burst through the tight fabric of his t-shirt. He was younger, with brush-cut brown hair over a broad face, but the set of his eyes spoke of a hardness and sadness to match Iz's.
"Spin's already starting," Fish said. He was the only one who hadn't removed his helmet, which meant Bart was the young man sitting on my right. Because of his position, I didn't have much of an impression of him beyond a look of tiredness; his head was down when I walked by.
"Local news feeds are just starting their broadcasts, talking about a mild panic at the carnival tonight when a wild animal broke free from its enclosure. The public was never in any danger, they say, because the animal was tethered, but it caused people to run, and a few might have suffered minor scrapes and bruises."
It didn't occur to me then to wonder how he could possibly know what the news broadcasts were saying.
"How the hell are they covering it up?" Gina wondered aloud.
"The broadcasters, at least the ones on CBS, are demons," I said softly. "Crystal saw them. Also, the ones on CNN."
"Makes sense," Little Jack said.
"I just don't understand how they got to them in four days," I said.
"Four days?" Iz laughed. "Kid, you got a lot to learn. But," he held up his hand, forestalling my questions, "let's put some distance between us and this carnival before we start talking about it."
The van rocked and swayed, taking turns, stopping for traffic lights. After a few minutes, the engines got a good long burst, the tires singing under the frame. We were on the Interstate, though where we were going was a mystery to me.
"I just can't believe Ben's gone," James said suddenly, leaning his head back against the headrest. He stayed there for a second, head centered, eyes closed but facing me across the van.
"It sucks," Gina said, patting his leg with her hand. "Danielle's going to be heart-broken."
James turned his head to the right, and I noticed a strange design etched into the short hairs on the side of his head. Gina had her head back against the headrest as well, but her eyes were open, and I remembered.
It was no one I recognized, but the face etched itself in my memory: billowing mass of red hair over youthful features, freckled face, bright green eyes wide with shock, clouded by death, short frame held upright by the metal hook exploding out the front of her shirt.
Whipping my eyes across to the other side, I saw into a second alcove, a second body, this of a young black man, hair trimmed short, something carved into the fade running up the sides of his head. His eyes were closed, and he might have been taller than me. It was hard to tell with the meat hook holding him suspended off the floor.
The dream. They were in the dream. In the alcoves in the tunnel. The same dream that tried to force me to choose between Crystal and Tanya. A false choice, as there was no way I could save either. It turned out I was beyond saving as well, if the end of the dream was any indication.
What did it mean?
Four days ago, all that mattered was having a little fun at the carnival. Then came Crystal, the ceremony, the demons, and the dreams. We thought it was just us, that this fight had been brought to our part of the world, and we would be the ones to end it.
But this was so much bigger. Bigger than us. Bigger than Virginia Beach, or Hampton. It might not even be a new thing. From the looks of this group, they'd been planning to fight these things for a while. What might we have missed, in our blissful ignorance? Were the demons running the news a recent change, or had they been helping hide the truth for far longer, and we only just became aware of it because of Crystal's power?
Crystal. Tanya.
I'd failed them. The dreams were a warning that I’d ignored.
No more.
I resolved to tell these people about my dreams, try to warn Gina and James, and anyone else that wo
uld listen. Something bad was going to happen to them. Maybe they wouldn't end up hung on meat hooks, that had the feeling of metaphor, just as the two women calling my name before being swallowed by a red wave was metaphorical. Regardless of whether it was a literal prediction or not, I was sure it meant they were going to die.
I had to try to prevent it.
If this group wanted to recruit me, I'd go along with it. If they wanted to train and equip me, I'd take that training and be thankful for the equipment. But at the end of the day, my fight was with this carnival outfit, because that's where Crystal and Tanya would be. No matter where we went, I had to find a way back.
For my friends.
For Tanya.
I was going to save them.
To Be Continued.
Don’t miss Rob Horner’s first exciting novel, Brightness: a supernatural thriller.
A desperate father is terrified when his oldest daughter begins seeing things no one else can see. As the hallucinations take on more clarity, he discovers there are greater forces in the world than modern science can explain. With his family in danger, Michael Richards must accept the destiny chosen for his children, and protect them at all costs from dark forces intent upon destroying them.
Available now on Kindle and in paperback on Amazon.com.
Travis and Sherry are two sailors assigned to the same workstation. They've never been introduced, but something connects them. Strange events occur whenever they are near one another, and sparks fly when their eyes meet. There are people within their chain of command watching everything. Their relationships are suspect.
Even their parents might not be who they think.
Their bond is as inescapable as it is inexplicable. Have they met before? Why have they forgotten so much?
Follow Travis and Sherry on a journey of discovery, where every thought is heard, every person harbors secrets, and nothing is at is seems.
Their undeniable attraction is only one part of their shared mystery.
The government wants them back in a laboratory, but they have other plans.
Scientists have developed a way to vaccinate entire cities without consent or the possibility of refusal. The theory is sound, but something goes wrong, and a highly contagious combination of virus and prion is unleashed, a middle-stage organism too dangerous to test.
With emergency services overwhelmed, a small community hospital tries to combat the unthinkable--an illness that causes aggression, spreads through violence, and won’t allow the dead to rest.
Enter a new nightmare as the nurses and staff fight for survival against a plague based in science, a “what-if” that will leave you second-guessing. Are you ready for the end?
Published by Covenant Books in June 2019, The Dungeon marks a departure from the supernatural. Billed as a pure action-thriller, The Dungeon takes readers on a roller-coaster ride of adrenaline, with a surprise ending that will have you gasping for air and begging for more.
A multinational corporation has found Daedalus’ labyrinth, an ancient structure that is central to a dozen Greek myths. Hidden among a wealth of decaying weapons and crumbled structures, a bronze disk is discovered, with a message inscribed on its surface in both Greek and English.
Ten strangers find themselves trapped in a modern-day recreation of the labyrinth, unwitting participants in a new reality program. Survive the labyrinth, and all their sins will be forgiven. But it won’t be easy, not when every room is designed to kill.
Rob Horner is a Virginia Beach native and former Navy Avionics Technician who spent twenty years working with electronics before finding his calling in medicine. Now a nurse practitioner with Urgent Care of Mountain View, primarily in the Morganton and Hickory, North Carolina locations, he splits his time between work, writing, and family. He is blessed with a loving wife, two sons, and three beautiful daughters. He and his family live in Lenoir, NC.
He can be found in various places on the web:
Twitter @RobHorner8
www.allauthor.com/page/robhorner
Facebook at www.facebook.com/robhorner
via email at [email protected],
or on his blog at Rob-Horner.com.
