The Devil You Know, Episode 1

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The Devil You Know, Episode 1 Page 3

by Alan Tucker


  Ellie gasped as Neri unsheathed the knife. “Please, don’t.”

  “Girl, it’s all right. I’ve done this lots of times. There’s nothing to be afraid of.”

  “It’s not that,” Ellie said.

  “Then what is it?”

  Tears formed in Ellie’s eyes and her head dropped. “I’m so sorry. I lied to you.”

  3 • Abraham

  The boy adjusted his grip on the shotgun. “What are you?”

  Not “who,” but “what” Abraham noted. “My name’s Abraham Black,” he said, standing still with his hands held out. “I’m not here to hurt you. In fact, I’d like to help if I can.”

  He won’t listen. Just take what you need and let’s go. I’ll protect you from the gun and the dog.

  Abraham ignored his internal companion and waited silently while the young man deliberated.

  “What was that thing that tried to take our cow?” he asked finally.

  “A Bug,” Abraham replied. “One of the aliens who came after the Grays did last year.” He only knew what he’d heard in scattered news reports. A second group of aliens showed up and immediately waged war on the Grays, mostly in space above Earth. Humanity’s network of satellites had been the first casualty, causing global communications chaos. “I’ve seen them once or twice before, but only from a distance.”

  “How did you make fire like that?”

  Abraham glanced down at his right hand. “I don’t know exactly. It’s something that happens only when I’m in real trouble.”

  You’re such a sap. It could happen anytime you wanted.

  At a price, Abraham thought.

  Just chunks of your miserable life, which you don’t seem too keen on anyway.

  The shotgun barrel dropped a few inches as the boy shifted his weight, then his knees buckled. A woman darted forward from the shadows beyond the doorway and cradled him down to the floor. “Jake!” she shrieked.

  Abraham took a step toward the porch. The dog’s hackles rose along with the volume of its growl. From her knees, the woman looked up in fright and fumbled for the shotgun lying next to the stricken young man. Abraham stopped. “I just want to help, ma’am.”

  “Stay back!” She wrapped trembling hands around the stock and found the trigger. Abraham flinched, but the gun didn’t fire. The woman’s attention flicked back and forth between him and the boy.

  “Ma’am, I swear before God I will not harm you. Is he your son? What happened to him?”

  The barrel of the gun shook and Abraham felt certain the demon’s protective powers would be tested. Then, with tears in her eyes, she set the gun down and stroked the boy’s hair. “Yes, he’s mine,” she said, her shoulders quivering. “He’s all I have left.”

  Abraham climbed the porch steps. The dog continued to growl, but thankfully kept its distance. “What happened?” he asked again, bending down to look at Jake. His skin held little color, but it didn’t possess the characteristic gray associated with the Blight.

  The woman sniffed and spoke without taking her eyes off her son. “Our supplies are getting low. We knew we had to get a field turned to start growing some food. Jake tried to harness one of the horses to the plow, but it kicked and broke his arm. I managed to get him inside and mostly stop the bleeding, but now he’s got a fever and won’t eat.”

  “How long ago?”

  “Four days,” she said, then broke down and cried. “I can’t lose him!”

  Abraham stood up. He knew some basic first aid, but not enough to help in this situation. Under his breath, he asked Pus Drinker, “Can you heal him?”

  No. Healing isn’t exactly in my wheelhouse, you know? Kinda the other team’s thing.

  “Why not? You keep me healthy,” Abraham whispered.

  That’s different. You’re… part of me.

  Abraham closed his eyes and suppressed a shudder.

  Look, the kid’s got a day, maybe two, and he’s toast. Let’s just grab a meal, some supplies, and go.

  “Shut up,” Abraham said, louder than he intended.

  “What?” the woman asked, looking up at him with red eyes.

  “Nothing, sorry. Let’s get him in bed and figure out what we can do.”

  Jake’s mother allowed Abraham to carry the boy upstairs to his room. He weighed next to nothing and Abraham felt feverish heat radiating from Jake’s skin. He moaned as Abraham settled him in the bed.

  “Do you have anything to bring down the fever?” Abraham asked the mother, who fretted and adjusted Jake’s pillow.

  “Acetaminophen, but I gave him some right before all your excitement outside.”

  Abraham shook his head. “Better give him another dose. And a wet cloth for his forehead.”

  She nodded and hustled out of the room.

  This is a losing proposition, Abe.

  “If you won’t help, just be quiet.”

  The arm’s infected. In the bone.

  “How do you know that?”

  I can smell it. I may not know healing, but sickness? That I know.

  Abraham knelt beside the bed and gently pulled the sling aside. Underneath, the makeshift bandages were soaked with blood. He noted an unnatural bend in the arm and a significant lump protruding from the wrap. He could only imagine the pain the boy had endured.

  Jake’s mother returned and placed a rag on his head. He revived enough to take the pills, then slumped back on the bed, his breathing slow and steady.

  After a minute or two, Abraham stood, satisfied Jake rested comfortably for the moment, and sighed. “Is there any more water? I could use a drink.”

  The woman looked up in surprise from studying her son, as if she’d already forgotten Abraham’s presence. “Yes, of course, I’m sorry. Where are my manners?” She straightened and held out an unsteady hand. “Cassandra Newbury. Call me Cass.”

  “A pleasure. I’m Abraham Black.”

  “Yes, I heard outside,” she said. Her face flushed briefly. “Thank you for your help, Mr. Black.”

  “No trouble. You can call me Abraham, or Abe, if you like.”

  Cass glanced once more at her injured son, then gave Abraham a tired smile. “Let’s get you some water.”

  She led him downstairs to a quaint kitchen, decorated in flowered wallpaper, and poured him a glass of clear water from a plastic gallon-jug on the counter. Abraham took it gratefully and downed the whole glass. Cass shook her head and poured him another before taking a seat at a round dinette table next to a silent refrigerator. She stared without focus at the tiled floor.

  Abraham followed Cass’s lead and took his glass to the table, sitting across from her. She had brown hair— lighter than Jake’s— with strands of gray showing at her temples. He guessed she might be around ten years his senior in age, perhaps even as old as forty-five, though her skin didn’t have the color or lines he’d grown accustomed to from folks who lived off the land. He revised his age estimate down a few years.

  Cass looked up at him, on the verge of tears once more. “What am I going to do?”

  “He needs a doctor,” Abraham said gently, trying to calm her. He would need her help if they were going to save the boy. “I’m not familiar with this area. Are there any towns nearby that might have one?”

  She sniffed and nodded. “Last I heard there was one in Bridger. It’s about ten miles east.”

  “That’s not too far. Why didn’t you take him?”

  “My husband was the one who ran the farm. I worked as a transcriptionist over the internet. I barely know one end of the plow from the other. I have no idea how to saddle a horse—though yesterday I tried and failed miserably— and it was much too far for Jake to walk or me to carry him. Ed had been teaching Jake how to operate some of the machinery… then he and our younger daughter got sick…”

  Abraham reached across and placed a tentative hand on her shoulder. “I understand. I lost my family too.”

  Cass squeezed his hand and more tears fell. “It’s been so hard. The only rea
son we got through the winter was because Ed had been into the survival stuff— you know, living off the grid and such? He had our basement stocked with canned goods, water, all sorts of things. We have enough to last another three or four months maybe, but Jake and I knew we’d have to do something to make it through another winter by ourselves.”

  Abraham nodded. The mention of supplies and survival gear gave him some hope. “Do you have a generator?”

  “Yes, but we used the last of the gas a few weeks ago. Otherwise I would have taken Jake in the car.”

  “Hm. Can you show me what supplies you do have? Maybe we can figure out something to get him transported.”

  Cass glanced up at him with narrowed eyes for an instant, then her face relaxed. “I’m sorry. All you’ve done so far is help and I’m being suspicious.”

  “It’s all right. Have you had other visitors?”

  She nodded. “A few. Mostly last fall. Jake was able to chase most of them off by showing the shotgun.”

  “Most?”

  “One man was especially persistent. Jake had to shoot to show he meant business. Hit him in the shoulder and he ran off. We never saw him again.”

  “Lucky,” Abraham said.

  “I suppose so. Jake was pretty shaken up about it for several days.” Cass paused and Abraham tried to imagine how he would have felt having to shoot someone at fifteen years old. “Anyway, let me show you the basement.” She stood up and opened a door just off the kitchen, revealing a shadowed stairwell.

  Cass took a battery powered lantern off a hook by the door. After turning it on, she headed down. Abraham followed. The basement had no windows that he could see. Good for security, but bad for other reasons, though the air didn’t seem stale. Wooden shelving lined all the walls, but most of it was bare. As Cass played the light around, it revealed two twin-size beds positioned close to each other at the far end of the room. In one corner, a handful of electrical cords ran down from the ceiling.

  “We kept the generator up in the mud room, closed off from the rest of the house, for ventilation,” Cass said. “Three electric space heaters kept us relatively warm and we have a couple of lamps, but it was a long, dark winter down here.”

  “I can only imagine. Where was the gas stored?”

  “In an underground tank out back. We filled two-gallon cans with a hand pump. Our water well can also be pumped by hand.”

  Abraham nodded in appreciation. “Your husband was certainly prepared.”

  “Both our families thought he was a little nuts. Turns out he was the sane one. I just wish he was here to see his efforts pay off.” Cass’s free hand covered her mouth and she fell silent.

  “You mentioned farm machinery earlier,” Abraham said, deciding to change the subject. “I assume you meant things more sophisticated than the hand plow out there.”

  Cass nodded. “There’s a tractor parked on the other side of the barn. Something’s broke on it though. It doesn’t run.”

  “Gas or diesel?”

  “I’m not sure. Why?”

  “Maybe there’s something left in its tank.” Abraham climbed the stairs, happy to see daylight once more. He hustled outside, ignoring the dog as it jumped up challenge him with a growl when he passed.

  Cass followed in his wake, admonishing the dog on her way by. “Hush now, Trixie. Abe is a friend.”

  The mutt is probably smarter than the lot of you put together.

  “I’ve enjoyed this time of quiet from you, Demon,” Abraham whispered. “Don’t ruin it now.”

  Too late. The woman seems sturdy. Bit too blubbery-eyed for my taste, but nothing a good gag and blindfold couldn’t fix.

  “You’re disgusting.”

  Hey, one man’s revulsion is another man’s fetish.

  Abraham reached the far side of the barn and saw the tractor. Tall grasses had sprouted up around the wheels. He didn’t know much about agriculture, his family having descended from gold and silver miners near Butte, Montana, but he did have a passing familiarity with anything on wheels. He found the fuel tank and read the word “Diesel” embossed on the cap.

  “Shoot,” he said and slapped the tractor’s hood.

  “What’s the matter?” Cass asked, catching up to him.

  “I hoped it might have enough fuel to get the car at least to Bridger, but it’s diesel.”

  Cass’s features brightened. “Wait! Our truck is diesel! It’s the same, right?”

  Abraham smiled. “Yes it is. Now, let’s see if this old girl has anything to give us.”

  They retrieved an empty can and managed to collect close to a gallon of fuel and transfer it to the pickup truck parked in the driveway. Cass went back inside the house to check on Jake and start packing supplies. While they had worked to drain the tractor, Abraham had coaxed Cass into understanding they may not be able to return to her home right away, depending on a number of circumstances such as Jake’s health and the availability of more fuel. They had to leave under the assumption they wouldn’t be back anytime soon.

  Walking around the truck, Abraham checked all the tires and popped the hood to make sure none of the hoses had rotted or developed holes over the winter. Everything looked to be in good shape. He worried about the battery and the possibility of sediment in the fuel tank, but he could do little about either, so he climbed in the driver’s seat and said a quick prayer before turning the key Cass had given him.

  The engine turned over and started up without a fuss. “Praise the Lord,” Abraham said.

  I really wish you wouldn’t say that. It makes me feel… dirty.

  Abraham smirked. “One demon’s revulsion…”

  You chose this moment to finally develop a sense of humor?

  Abraham quickly studied the gauges. The fuel needle hovered over empty, but all cars and trucks held a gallon or two reserve beyond that. With luck, what they scrounged from the tractor would be enough to get them to the nearby town. He cut off the engine, knowing such a short run wasn’t good for long term maintenance, but he couldn’t afford to waste any of their precious fuel. Abraham pocketed the keys and bounded into the house to help Cass.

  They spent the rest of the day loading the truck bed with all the supplies they could fit and preparing the property for a possible extended leave of absence. Abraham cut away a section of fence leading to the pasture and set the horse loose to graze. They left the back door to the barn and the horse’s stall door open to give it access to shelter and hopefully encourage it to stick around. Cass did the same for a small flock of chickens the family kept.

  Late in the afternoon, Abraham gratefully ate a bowl of cold stew from a can and took a nap on the Newbury’s living room couch while Cass tended to Jake, getting him ready to travel. Soon after sundown, Abraham carried Jake down to the truck and carefully stretched him out across the skinny bench seat behind the two front seats in the extended cab of the pickup. It didn’t afford much room, but provided a considerably better option than having him ride in the bed with the supplies. They used the two seat belts to strap him in as securely as possible. Finally, Cass opened the tailgate for Trixie the dog to jump in and slammed it shut.

  “Are you sure that’s a good idea?” Abraham asked as Cass climbed in the passenger seat.

  “She rode back there all the time with Ed. And I won’t leave her behind.”

  “All right. We don’t know what kind of shape these roads will be in, so buckle up and hang on. I’m going to drive without the headlights to avoid unwanted attention.”

  “Will you be able to see?” Cass asked.

  “Yep, I’ll be fine.” Right, Demon? What will that cost me?

  Eh, night vision? That’s on the house. At least we’re not walking.

  Abraham closed his eyes and mumbled another quick prayer as he turned the key. As before, the truck started right up. He whispered thanks and adjusted the mirrors before putting it into gear.

  The gravel roads hadn’t been maintained in months, but traffic had been all but
nonexistent during that time as well. Abraham tried to find a balance between speed and comfort for Jake on the uneven surface.

  They travelled for about ten minutes over the bumpy road, and Abraham had just begun to relax and settle into driving, when a massive black shape passed in front of the truck. Abraham stood on the brake pedal and veered to the right. Cass and Jake both cried out as the truck shuddered and slammed into the ditch beside the road. Heart pounding, Abraham fumbled with his seatbelt and opened the door. A low, droning sound resonated in his chest and teeth. He looked up to see the late evening sky filled with darker objects, blotting out the early stars as they passed. One buzzed by at a much lower altitude and Abraham recognized it as the same type of flier and rider he’d fought that morning. Fortunately, it ignored him, single-mindedly following its brethren through the night.

  Trixie’s head popped up from the truck bed and she growled defiantly at the sky as hundreds, if not thousands, of Bugs flew above their heads over the course of several minutes, heading northeast.

  Well, that can’t be good.

  Abraham shook his head in amazement and fear, for once forced to wholeheartedly agree with his demonic parasite.

  4 • Neri

  “What, exactly, did you lie about, Ellie?” Neri asked, her knife still poised above her forearm.

  The girl covered her face with her hands and cried. Neri sheathed the blade and moved to sit next to Ellie on the bed. She held the distraught girl as her shoulders shook from her sobs.

  After a minute or two, she calmed enough to speak. “My dad didn’t hurt me. He didn’t do the things I said.”

  Neri wondered if separation might have created sympathy for her abuser in Ellie. Time and distance could make a familiar hell seem more appealing than an unfamiliar sanctuary. “Why did you run away then?”

  “Dad wants me to marry Tommy Anders. His family owns a big ranch north of town and Dad wants to get better connected with them on account of their land and cattle and stuff. Tommy’s ugly and mean. I can’t stand the thought of being near him, let alone being his wife!” Ellie burst into a new round of tears.

 

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