The Hidden

by C C Sommerly

  The Hidden

  C.C. Sommerly

  Copyright © C.C. Sommerly (2019)

  All rights reserved.

  https://ccsommerly.com/

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  This book is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Dedication

  This book is dedicated to Chloe, Ethan, Carter, Tyler and Zachary. Without all of your love, support, encouragement and understanding this book would not have been possible. I love you all for that and so much more.

  Contents

  Title Page

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Chapter 42

  Chapter 43

  Chapter 44

  Chapter 45

  Chapter 1

  “Why are you doing this to me?”

  Panic and feared filled me, both battling for supremacy inside my mind. This could not be happening. There had to be a way to change things.

  Storming through the open door into Gunny’s office, I flung open the door. “You had no right to take me off demon patrol,” I said.

  The lightweight door floated closed behind me and I stopped in front of his desk, “Why am I off patrol? I was supposed to be on the rotation for another month.”

  He continued reading his papers paying me no more attention than the fly that was idling over his head.

  “Is this payback for mouthing off in front of the other Guardsmen?”

  With irritating calm, Gunny Mack slowly put down the papers he was reading and finally met my eyes. “No, it’s not, although you already managed to convince yourself that was the case. So, little I say will convince you otherwise.”

  Oh no he wasn’t going to turn this around on me. If he wasn’t still pissed about that, then he was just being stubborn. A stubborn gunny was one that was an unmovable as a building. Once he got something into his mind, it was set in stone.

  He said, “Teagan, you’ve had three back-to-back rotations and are overdue for a new assignment. No one stays out in the field on demon patrol beyond two rotations.”

  “But it’s what I’m so good at. No one can neutralize threats better than me. I’ve got 80 demon kills on the books — think about how many lives I’ve saved because of that.”

  The harsh lines in his leathery face softened for a fraction of a second as an unrecognizable expression crossed his face. He said, “Life is not only about killing Teagan.”

  His normal craggy and lined visage returned a few seconds later. This was the face she knew — one that showed the strain of being in the military during and after the apocalypse — aging him far faster than normal.

  He continued, “The Demon Relations Committee’s new chapter office opening ceremony is tomorrow. The Demon Delegate himself will be there and I expect you to be a part of the security detail.”

  “What protection am I expected to give an arch demon? With the powers he likely has, he could take out a city block with a swing of his arm. He is literally the most powerful being on the planet. You are taking me away from protecting people who don’t have the arch demon’s powers? And for what? Because they are worried about an assignation?” I said in disgust.

  “Are you disobeying an order?” Gunny responded quickly. His voice had a frosty edge and his eyes pierced into me. He was serious about this new assignment and I already pushed him far beyond what I normally would. As much as I wanted to disobey the order, what he said was true. I had been on rotation far longer than anyone else. As mad as I was at Gunny, I also respected him, and he was my superior.

  Noticing my silence, he continued, “Intel gave us information about an imminent threat against the Demon Delegate Angra Mainyu. With the spat of assassinations about pro-demon factions, the President, General Gridley has ordered the Elite Guard to provide security detail on all public demon events.”

  Of course, it was presidentially mandated. No arguing with the Supreme Commander, I thought. Resigned to follow the order, but still not happy with being forced off patrol, “I’ll be there Gunny with the rest of the detail. As much as I don’t want to, I will protect a demon,” I said.

  Chapter 2

  The crowds of people clustered around the front of the building, pushing and straining to get closer to the ribbon, which blocked the door until the Demon Delegate cuts it and officially opens the new building to the public. Perhaps, they were merely there to see what many people considered a “dreamy” Demon Delegate. He was one of the first higher demons that made an appearance on Earth after The Great Sundering in 2019 and more than thirty years later he had achieved a sort of celebrity status with internet sites dedicated as “fan sites” like most actors and pop stars had. For me, a demon is a demon no matter how handsome or human looking. I didn’t care that his wings were compared to hematite with their gray to silver cast that shifted in the sunlight or that his violet eyes positively glowed.

  I eyed the entrance and the hordes of humans pressing against the barricades, the fluttering of the blood-red ceremonial ribbon caught my eye. It was too long for the posts it was connected to and its ends fluttered lightly in the breeze like a streamer of blood. I shook myself from the morbid thoughts. Paparazzi, with cameras at the ready, and news reporters circled the crowd, waiting for the first glimpse of the Demon Delegate as anxiously as the crowd of mostly women.

  The day was warm, but not overly warm, so it wouldn’t seem odd that I was near the tree line seeking shade. It was filled with some sort of sickeningly sweet flowered trees and bees lazily flying amongst the blooms. Whoever picked this location certainly hadn’t taken into consideration that the landscape provided ample hiding places and was an absolute security nightmare. I walked along the trees, scanning for any rogue demons. The hair on my arms rose up and the back of my neck itched, as I felt someone or something watching me. Adrenaline coursed through my veins and I forced myself to continue my leisurely pace, so I did not alert the watcher or give any indication that I was aware of him or her. None of the security detail was close to me. They patrolled around the building and performed crowd control, so it was up to me to neutralize this threat. The Demon Delegate would be here at any minute.

  I started whistling and nearly cringed from the off-tune ditty. Good thing I had a job because I wouldn’t be winning any singing competitions any time soon, I thought. The sound was more necessity than me wanting to sing. I couldn’t stand singing, but I was hoping that the sound would distract the watcher from my action, so I could take him or her by surpri
se.

  Sensing movement to my left, I turned and sprang towards the now-visible demon. I quickly scanned for the facial tattoo that indicated he was a registered demon. We couldn’t touch a registered demon, but we could take out any unregistered ones since they were outlaws to demons and humans. The treaty between humans and demons made identifying “rogue” demons, which were those demons that were on Earth illegally, easy. All legitimate demons had a twisting tribal-like tattoo on their face.

  The Morpho demon in front of me, which resembled a giant slug and even had a slug-like slimy trail that it left in its wake, lurching out of the tree line in a weird rolling and wave-like manner, towards the crowd. There was no tattoo on it, so it was not a registered demon and was fair game. Thankfully, none of the crowd noticed the demon or there would be mass panic. I had moments until people noticed the threat since the Demon Delegate’s limo was moving up the driveway to the building and conveniently diverting their attention. Raising my rifle, I aimed my sight on the demon. I fired three shots in quick succession, and the crowd screamed, stampeding away in their panic. I saw my fellow Marines running towards me for backup — not that it was needed. The threat was eliminated.

  I wish I could have avoided was being knee-deep in slippery demon guts, I turned away from the Marines, while trying not to slip in the gross demon aftermath as I tried to stand up. The Marines had my back, so as I carefully rose, I was tackled from behind. So much for having my back guys, I thought. Lifting my face from the ground, I expected another demon and was surprised to instead see the muzzles of several guns pointed at me. I spit out the salty and slimy guts that I got a mouthful of when I was tackled.

  “Don’t point those guns at me, I’m not the threat here. Is the Delegate secured?” I said.

  “Staff Sergeant Teagan stay where you are and toss your weapons. You are being detained for the murder of Delegate Angra Mainyu’s son.”

  What the heck, I thought. Son? That slug-like demon was the arch demon’s offspring. How was I supposed to know the arch demon went slumming it and had a lesser demon as a son?

  These were the same types of demons that Marine Intel said were behind the recent delegate assassinations and exactly why I was out here with the other members of the Elite Guard. We were out in full force at the Demon Relations Committee’s new chapter office opening ceremony because Demon Delegate Angra Mainyu was a target as the committee head.

  Corporal Williams’ knee pressed against my back forced me back sharply to the matter at hand. “I don’t understand why I’m being subdued and treated like a criminal. Now what? Was I really being accused of murder? This was an accident. While I was known for my number of demon kills, I only killed the rogue demons, that I was authorized to take out, to protect innocent people,” I thought.

  “Drop your weapons,” said Corporal Williams.

  I tossed my sniper rifle aside, but couldn’t reach my sword to also toss it.

  “Unless you want me to keep my sword, you either need to loosen up on the knee crushing my kidneys or you need to detach the sheath and get it yourself,” I said grumpily.

  The pressure decreased against my back and I slowly shifted my body weight to the side, so I didn’t spook him because he’d surely lost his darn mind. I unsnapped the sheath, tossing my sword on the ground next to the gun. Corporal Williams wrenched my arms back and handcuffed me as soon as my sword was out of reach.

  “This is ridiculous. How was I supposed to know he was a legit attendee? We were told to be on the lookout for morpho demons and I’m no murderer,” I said with my face still pressed into the ground.

  Corporal Williams squeaked and a shadow loomed over me, roughly pulling my head up by my hair. The Demon Delegate stood over me. His eyes cut into me as he said, “Actually, you are a murderer, and I will see you penalized to the full extent of the law. If I had my way, you’d be turned over to my control and I’d make sure you paid for what you did to my son.” Leering down, his face twisted in anger.

  “Please God, don’t let the Marines give me to him,” I thought, suddenly overcome with fear. Shadow demons, like the Demon Delegate, were known for their ability to create overwhelming fear and nightmares as well as their viciousness despite their angelic appearance. The thought caused a shudder to wrack through my body. “The Demon Delegate was scary to even a seasoned Marine like me. Please God, don’t let the Marines hand me over. I will fight this. I feel bad for killing an innocent, but it was an honest mistake. I would never willing kill anyone or anything, even a demon if it wasn’t necessary. He was a potential threat and charged the area when the Delegate’s vehicle came in sight. Why wasn’t his son with him? And more importantly, why wasn’t his son tattooed? This whole thing was suspicious.”

  Chapter 3

  Corporal Williams and the rest of the security detail hauled me back to the base and straight to the military police (MP), who promptly threw me into the brig, a.k.a., military jail. If people thought a civilian jail was bad, that was nothing compared to a military one, where things were much stricter and you still adhered to all military rules and regulations, but without any freedom. The MPs walked me down to a special cell closer to the entrance and close to their offices. They had me change into a special inmate uniform — brightly colored to maximize the humiliation before tossing me into the single person cell.

  “Don’t I get one phone call? A lawyer? Something? What happened to innocent until proven guilty?” I asked.

  I’d never been to jail or in any kind of trouble. I grew up in a Catholic family and still attended Mass. I never did drugs, drank or even rebelled in my teen years. “Why wasn’t I being booked and released? Isn’t that what they did on TV? Why wasn’t I allowed to be on house arrest or something?” I thought frantically. Instead, I was stuck in a cell with a jail full of actual criminals. Give it another decade or so and humans would be sharing the cell with demons. For now, we managed the unregistered ones with capture, when possible and death more times than not.

  I paced my cell until my legs got tired. Sitting down on the narrow and rock-hard bed, I contemplated my next move. I still did not fully understand everything that happened. The Delegate’s son was acting suspicious. I remembered that Corporal Williams was in charge of the security detail. Gunny thought the leadership position would be good career building. It was Williams who sent me to that stand of trees.

  I jumped up to the cell bars and yelled, “Guards! Is anyone out there? I want my phone call. A lawyer. Hello.”

  One of the guards, a tall and leanly muscled Marine, sauntered into view and narrowed his eyes as he saw me. He said sarcastically, “Well, if it isn’t the Slayer. That’s what they are calling you now. Once word leaked to the media that you were here, a horde of reporters mob the main gate requesting entry. Them reports are saying we are censoring and preventing freedom of speech.”

  “Slayer? It was a misunderstanding. A mistake! Anyone else would react the same way.”

  “No one else has your kill record. We all heard about your exploits and know you get off on killing demons. You hate them — that’s what they are all saying.”

  “I want a lawyer. It’s my right.”

  He smirked. “When Warden says you can,” he said, as he walked away whistling.

  Jerk. I need to know what my rights were and talking to a lawyer would be the quickest way to get that information. If what the guard said was correct, the media was already running a smear campaign by painting me as a ruthless killer and then having the nerve to claim the right to pester me, I thought.

  I laid back on the bed and waited. I would either get a lawyer or I would eventually sleep, I reckoned. Stress only keeps me from sleep so long. It was not like I had anything but time on my hands at this point. I still had not absorbed what happened. A heavy numbness and a nervousness made my stomach clench in fear that this would not end well. It was the kind of queasiness you get on patrol when facing down a raging demon and it is only quick thinking and your skills with weapons
that make surviving such a powerful creature possible.

  Chapter 4

  The next morning, the same lousy guard from last night awoke me, screaming, “Wake up Slayer! Wake up! Guess you are luckier than I thought. You got a visitor.”

  As I approached the cell door, he ordered me, “Turn your back, we cuff you when you leave the cell.” It rankled and sickened me being treated no better than a criminal. When other inmates passed my cell and none of them were restrained. He slapped the handcuffs on my wrists and tightly locked them, grinding my wrist bones together. I could already feel the blood in my hands being restricted from the pressure of the cuffs.

  “They are too tight.”

  “I don’t want to hear any lip from you. Act up and you can forget about your visitor. You are not in charge around here.”

  We walked into a private room and I found a stranger waiting for me. With no further words from the guard, he pushed me through the door. “She’s all yours Mr. Maxwell,” and he slammed the door behind me.

  I stared at the man before me. He looked like every other middle-aged lawyer from any movie or TV show. There seemed to be some universal standard of dignified stoicism that was instilled in them through law school. He had salt and pepper hair and wore a crisp and expensive-looking charcoal suit. His brown eyes were framed by metal rimmed glasses and his hair was slicked back. The lawyer studied me as I studied him. Maybe I had a chance against whatever case the Marines would through at me for killing the Delegate’s son, I thought. This guy didn’t seem to get intimidated and he’d need that courage in spades when the general public was so convinced that I was a monster.

  “My name is Chester Maxwell and I’m your appointed lawyer,” he said. As I tried to speak, he cut me off.

  “Let me continue. I’ll be frank, Staff Sergeant Teagan. The case against you doesn’t look good.”