Bad Company

by D V Wolfe

  Noah screamed from across the room. My eyes focused and I saw the back of Miriam’s head, her bun falling loose as she stabbed Noah in the chest with the abnormally long fingers and nails of a clawed hand. Her head was craning forward, towards Noah’s neck, her teeth bared. I was moving before I had a clear idea of what I was going to do. I rolled off the front of the drawer hearing the metal groaning as it shifted underneath me. I landed on all fours and quickly got to my feet, slipping on some of Millie’s entrails as I staggered towards Miriam.

  “Get off him,” I shouted. She turned to look at me, her eyes black. She had long-bloodstained teeth that had to have been hiding under dentures. I grabbed the nearest thing on the embalming table to use as a weapon. It happened to be the rubber mallet. I staggered forward and with every ounce of anger, fear, and frustration I had, I brought it down on Miriam’s head. I heard a bone crack beneath the hammer and she stumbled sideways, releasing Noah. I turned my back to her to steady him. There was blood soaking through the front of his dress shirt, turning the white background around the pink flamingos, a dark red. I held Noah by the shoulders as his legs buckled and he sat down hard on the ground, putting a hand to the wound on his chest. There was a roar behind me and I turned just as she pounced. I head-butted her, swinging out with my arms, knocking her away.

  We stared at each other and for a second, the look on her face was the same crazed expression that Sister Smile wore so often. Everything erupted inside of me. She’d taken Joel. I’d gotten him into that mess and she had taken him. She should have taken me. We should have been the ones having this fight. No other casualties. This was my responsibility. The hammer seemed to move with a mind of its own, turning into a black rubber and wooden handle blur next to my face as black oozing blood and the smell of death surrounded us. I was breathing hard from the adrenaline and I tasted something bitter and vile on my tongue. Spatter from her caved-in head hit me in the eye and finally, I was able to regain control of my arm.

  “Bane!” Noah shouted from behind me.

  I paused mid-blow and looked at the hammer, dripping with black ooze, bits of skull bone, and hair stuck to it. I let go. The hammer fell from my fingers, landing on what was left of Miriam’s face.

  “Bane, are you...are you alright?” Noah’s voice was terrified.

  I couldn’t answer him. My heart was pounding in my ears and my adrenaline was so high I was certain at one point I’d defied gravity and been floating while I was beating her skull in. Its skull in. I looked back down at the mess beneath me. This wasn’t Sister Smile. No matter how badly I wanted it to be.

  “It’s a ghoul,” I spit on the floor. The taste was still there. I swiped at my eyes with the sleeve of my suit jacket but I only seemed to make it worse, my vision blurring as the shit got into the corner of my eyes.

  “A wha-?” Noah wheezed. I spit on the floor again. His wheeze turned into a weak laugh and then a wheeze again. “You forgot to shut your mouth, didn’t you? Rookie mistake.”

  I was still spitting on the floor, so I gave him the finger, ripped the tail of my shirt out of my pants, and swiped at my eyes with it. They were burning but I was able to blink them clear enough to look at him. I stumbled towards him, stepping on Miriam’s hand, well, claw, before kneeling down to look at his wound.

  “How bad is it?” I asked. Noah gingerly pulled away his hand and I carefully moved the torn fabric of the shirt to the side to look at the pale skin beneath. Five half-moon-shaped puncture wounds, but they didn’t look too deep. “Aw, that’s just a love scratch,” I said. I grinned at him. “Think you can stand?”

  “Screw you, Bane,” Noah groaned as I helped him to his feet. “That felt like someone took a handful of pencils and stabbed me in the chest.”

  “Sounds about right,” I said, glancing back down at the mallet, resting in the crater of what was left of Miriam’s face. I pulled Noah’s arm over my shoulder to support his weight. The fluorescent light glinted off the long teeth, some broken now from the mallet blows and sticking out of her mouth at odd angles. “Those are some serious chompers.”

  “So,” Noah said, hissing when I bumped into his wound. “Are we done here?”

  “Yeah,” I said. “Let’s get you in the truck. I’ll tidy up and we’ll hit the road.”

  I got Noah into the passenger seat, pulled his tie-dyed shirt and cargo shorts out of the toolbox, and handed them to him. I dug a wine bottle out of the funeral home’s recycling, filled it from the gas can I kept in Lucy’s truck bed, and stuffed the flamingo tie in it. I went back inside and turned off the ventilation system in the basement. Then I took the lid off the tank of the embalming machine. The smell of formaldehyde filled the air. I went back up the stairs and I lit the end of the tie sticking out of the Molotov. I waited until the flames had consumed a flamingo and a half before I lobbed it down the back stairs into the embalming room and onto Miriam’s corpse. I closed the door at the top of the stairs and made sure the front door was unlocked before closing it behind me and hustling back to Lucy. I pulled off my suit jacket and climbed behind the wheel. “I figure we have about five minutes before the Molotov ignites the chemicals in the embalming room.”

  “Why are we burning down this town’s only funeral home?” Noah asked as I backed out of the parking spot and headed for the main road out of town. I was keeping an eye out for any police cars and I was doing my best to keep my speeding to ‘casual’ rather than ‘fleeing’ proportions.

  “Because if we didn’t, the police would go downstairs, see Miriam with her head bashed in and then they’d get curious, especially about what the hell Miriam is. And that road leads to a lot of questions they aren’t equipped to answer. I thought it would be kinder for them to just find ashes and arson. Those can be explained away.”

  “But Bane,” Noah said, sitting up straighter. “We were at the police station earlier, asking questions. They’re the ones that told us to come over here to see the remains. They’ll know it was us!”

  I shrugged. “Maybe. Maybe they won’t connect the dots. We’re supposed to be federal agents, remember? Maybe they’ll think that Miriam was doing something sketchy and the black helicopters got her. Maybe they will come after us, but we’ll be down the road a good piece by then and with Lucy’s specialty skills when it comes to slipping by Johnny Law, they won’t be able to catch us. Stop worrying.” I gave him my best attempt at a smile as we sailed out of town, heading for the highway, but I didn’t feel the least bit relieved. I looked down at my phone and saw that I’d missed a call while we had been in the funeral home. The caller ID said PUBLIC. Nya. It had to be. Luckily, if I drove quickly enough, by the next time she called, we might be out of Oklahoma and therefore out of ass-chewing range. She’d basically forbade me from coming back to Oklahoma after the showdown in Sicily, but I guess I couldn’t blame her. She was obsessing over this demon that wanted me dead the way I obsess over my soul total. Best to just make it over the border and be able to honestly say we were not in Oklahoma the next time she called.

  “So she was a...ghoul?” Noah asked, unbuttoning his dress shirt.

  I nodded. “Yeah. Sorry, Skippy, we weren’t cleaning up messes left behind by Sister Smile, just those of a two-bit ghoul.”

  “So ghouls, eat people too?”

  “Unfortunately. I was stupid. I should have thought of a ghoul. I just really wanted it to be Sister Smile.” I said the last sentence more to myself than to Noah.

  “Well be glad it wasn’t her,” Noah muttered as he pressed his right hand against the wound on his chest and closed his eyes. He gritted his teeth and the cab was filled with the smell of burning flesh. I cranked my window down and stuck my head out.

  “Jesus Noah, give me a heads up before you do that!” I shouted at him. His jaw was still tight, trying to keep his scream of pain in as he pulled his hand away from his chest, the flesh now cauterized. He sagged back against the seat, his boney ribcage heaving as he tried to catch his breath.

  “Well
, what did you think I was going to do?” Noah asked, his voice little more than breath as he turned his head to look at me.

  “Not that,” I said. “I could have stitched you up.”

  Noah shook his head. “No, you couldn’t have. You don’t have a suture needle anymore, remember?” He was right. I really needed to replace that. “Anyways,” Noah continued, limply reaching for his window crank and managing to get it down a couple of inches. “So you just kill ghouls by beating them to death?”

  I shrugged. “Pretty much. You have to destroy their heads.” I glanced over at him quickly before returning my eyes to the road. “I’m sorry I let it get you.”

  Noah shrugged. “What do you mean ‘let’? You didn’t know it was a ghoul. I think we both thought it was just another sweet old lady. Man, between her, Hilda and Rosetta, I’m going to break into cold sweats around any female-identifying member of the AARP.”

  I grinned. “I’m going to make sure and tell Rosetta that.”

  “See?” Noah said. “If you tell Rosetta that and she beats my ass, that would be your fault.” He closed his eyes. “But stop blaming yourself about the ghoul. It wasn’t your fault. I was trying not to puke and she got the drop on me. We’re both in as good a shape as we usually are, coming out of one of these things.” He looked me over. “Or maybe better than we usually are. You’re covered with blood but it’s not yours, so I call this a win. Next case.”

  Noah had only been plunged into this suicide mission a month ago, but I had to admit, I was kind of impressed with how well he was coping. I reached for the radio knob, a grin forming at the corner of my mouth as I glanced over at him. “Well if you’re ready for more, we could see what Walter’s forecasting for the area.” Noah’s expression faltered the tiniest bit at that threat.

  “Uh, sure,” he said, picking up the tie-dyed shirt next to him and beginning to pull it over his frizzy mop of hair.

  I flipped the radio on. I’d really wanted to close the loop on the cannibal tribe completely and free Joel so we could get back to hunting. Now that the tail-chasing had ended with the bashed-in skull of a ghoul, I was out of leads and I was hoping Walter had something for us. Of course, there was also the threat of whatever demon ritual had been going down in Salvation, Missouri while we were at Cannibal Spring Break in Sicily. No one had been able to find out any specifics as to what the demons had been up to. Not yet anyway. Static was coming out of the radio and I reached for the knob. Squinting at the red needle, I turned the knob, trying to find Walter’s voice.

  “Bane, look out!” Noah screamed. I jerked my head up and hit the brakes as I registered what I was seeing. There was a man in a black suit, standing in the highway, a hundred feet in front of us. He had his hands in his pants pockets and he didn’t flinch as we careened towards him. We came to a stop ten feet from him and Noah and I started to breathe again as we looked over the dashboard at Festus.

  “You should have run him over,” Noah growled. “I think he gave me a heart attack.”

  “Yeah, but just think of how much work it was to get him back from those cannibals in the first place,” I said. “I hate to see all that effort go to waste. Even if he does deserve it for scaring the shit out of us.”

  Noah sighed. “I guess. Can I still punch him for the heart attack?”

  “Knock yourself out,” I said, kicking my door open. The highway around us was deserted. In my experience, there were a lot of two-lane blacktop highways in Oklahoma that looked like Lucy might be their only visitor. In this case, it was a definite advantage.

  “You know,” I said to Festus as I slammed my door shut and stomped around the front of Lucy to face him. “If you’re having suicidal tendencies, Festus, I’m here to help. Just ask me how. After the initial impact with Lucy’s grille, I bet you wouldn’t feel a thing.”

  Festus gave me a sarcastic smile. “Don’t tease me. After the week I’ve just had in the office, getting hit by that ‘tetanus-on-wheels-mobile’ of yours would be a welcome relief.” Now that I was studying Festus, I could kind of see what he meant. His suit jacket was stained dark and wet in places, most likely from blood. His face was swollen and as he spoke I could see he was missing some teeth.

  “Oh! I have something for you,” I said. I moved around Lucy, passing Noah on my way to the passenger side.

  “Oh, you shouldn’t have,” Festus muttered. “It’s not even my birthday.” I ignored him and opened the glove box.

  “Do you remember when your birthday is?” I heard Noah ask Festus quietly. Festus didn’t reply. Something gold caught my eye as I dug through the glove box. My ma’s ring. I kept digging and I found what I was looking for under a hex bag. I moved back around the truck and held the gold tooth out to him.

  “I believe this is yours,” I said. Festus held out his hand and I dropped it into his palm. He looked down at it. “I knew you were fond of it,” I said. “So when we found it in Lancaster…”

  “You thought I was dead?” Festus asked, looking up.

  I nodded. “Yep.”

  “Doornail dead,” Noah added.

  “Elevating daisies,” I said.

  “Chewing dirt.”

  “Counting worms.”

  “Alright, alright,” Festus growled. “I get the idea. Aren’t you pleased that I’m still amongst the living.”

  Noah and I looked at each other and made the so-so gesture with our hands.

  Festus rolled his eyes. “Hilarious.”

  I grinned at him. “So, if you’re here, does that mean your paperwork is complete and you now have some good news to give me in terms of my debut on The Price of Souls is Right?”

  Festus snapped his fingers and the red notebook appeared in his hand. He flipped it open and slowly started turning pages. His eyes were swollen from the beating he’d taken and he had to bring the notebook close to his face to read. “Let’s see,” he began. “The last count I gave you, was what?”

  “Four hundred and seventy-nine,” I said. “That was just after the Hayman in Indianapolis.”

  Festus nodded. “My bosses weren’t happy about it, but you did kill seven demons in St. Louis and voltage is voltage. “Unfortunately…” I felt a rush of disappointment pulling me downward. “...they were high-ring demons in Empty Houses.”

  “What does that mean?” I asked.

  Festus flicked his gaze up to me. “High-ring demons are new demons who have not acquired much rank or power. They are sent to the high-rings of Hell because they do not have the...fortitude to serve in the lower rings. Hence why they have to occupy Empty Houses when they come topside. They are not strong enough to possess a mortal.”

  “So what kind of demon can possess a mortal?” I asked, confused. “I didn’t realize there were limitations on how demons traveled.”

  Festus pinched the bridge of his nose. “More than you can imagine. Your DMVs are cakewalks where everyone's a winner compared to our travel bureau.” He jerked his head up. “You remember the Empty Houses office though, I mean you’ve been there three times now.”

  I nodded. “I remember. I always just assumed it moved so slowly for my benefit. You know, giving me a ‘first taste is free’ to Hell before I buy the timeshare permanently.”

  “Don’t flatter yourself,” Festus said, turning his attention back to the notebook in his hand. “So it was debated on, and after much arguing, flogging and some light smiting, it was decided that high-ring demons are worth five souls.”

  “So thirty-five more souls,” I said.

  Festus nodded. “Which brings your total down to four hundred and forty-four after St. Louis.”

  “Then there was the necrowitch,” Noah said quickly.

  Festus paused and cut his eyes to Noah. “As the person with the record in front of him, I am aware. If you like to shout things that everyone else knows, you should stand at the drive-through windows outside of fast-food restaurants and remind people that their coffee is hot.”

  “Yeah, yeah, such a zinger of a s
nide comment,” I said. “What was the witch worth?”

  Festus huffed and flipped back a few pages. “Two souls.”

  Noah made a disappointed noise, but I was pretty happy with that. “Two souls? I thought because she was mortal and had already sold her soul…”

  “You burned her mark off, which cut the extension cord from Hell’s outlet to her. She had already begun to raise an army and so because of the power Hell is saving and the power she had by nature, she’s worth two,” Festus said. He went back to studying his notes. “Then, I see you hunted some…” His expression turned to distaste. “Fae...bugbears to be specific, down in Alabama. As they are fae and considered to be more neutral than powerful by Hell’s standards, the two bugbears that you killed personally are worth one each and the alpha bugbear that you gave the finishing blow to, is worth two. Then, there were the cannibals…”

  “Wait,” Noah said. “Before Sicily, we went to Nebraska to help Walter and his wife’s spirit…”

  “Didn’t count for anything,” Festus said, scanning the page in front of him, front and back. He looked back up at Noah, then at me. “Human spirits are not considered to be powerful enough to be of much value. At least human spirits that don’t murder…”

  “She was trying to kill us,” I said.

  Festus shrugged. “Theatrics, perhaps?” I gave him a dirty look which he didn’t see because he was back to staring down at the notebook in his hand. “Regardless, if she had been worth anything, I would have gotten a note. Human spirits are echoes, shadows of their former self. They are not even worth as much as a regular human soul because there’s not much soul left when you break a haunting. There wasn’t much there when the haunting started. The mere ability to haunt takes a toll of its own on the being.”