Demon King

by Erik Henry Vick

  “Well, I—”

  “Hey guys,” yelled Toby. “Scott’s back. Get out here, we need to talk.”

  They filed out to the living room in silence, no one sure what to say. Scott stood in the short hall that led to the door. A few days’ worth of stubble spread across his cheeks, and his eyes were bloodshot like he’d been drinking or not sleeping. Maybe both.

  Shannon’s heart went out to him, but what could she—the woman who’d spent her life in a fantasy world because she was too weak to face the truth—what would she say to him? He was facing his horrors. She couldn’t even imagine how devastating losing his wife and daughter within twenty-four hours would be. How could she offer him comfort?

  Stop it, Shannon.

  It was Benny’s voice in her mind, but was it him or her own mind? She glanced at him, but Benny was looking at Scott with an intensity that bordered on obsession. Scott returned his gaze as if he were a condemned man waiting for judgement.

  “Would you two like a little privacy?” asked Toby with a grin.

  “What?” asked Benny. “Oh. No, we’re fine.”

  “Are we?” asked Scott. “What was that all about?”

  Benny blushed and looked at his feet. “Sorry. I forget how to act sometimes. You know…out here.” He waved his hands around, looking like a spastic orchestra conductor.

  Scott grunted. “Don’t beat yourself up, I feel the same way half the time.”

  “You do?” asked Benny with such incredulity in his voice that everyone laughed, and the spell broke.

  Shannon thought there was more to the exchange than Benny was letting on. She tried to catch his eye, but he was either oblivious or ignoring her plaintive glances.

  “So, uh, is…” said Mike.

  “Yes. I handled…everything,” said Scott in a despondent voice. He blinked in rapid succession and took a deep breath. “What’s the plan?”

  “No calls from Oneka Falls,” said Mike. “But I figure I’m fired.” He shrugged and grinned. “Troopers have any spots?”

  Scott flashed a smile that quivered around the edges. “Always.” He cleared his throat. “Toby, there was a riot at Sing Sing, and nineteen inmates escaped. Your… Owen Gray was one of the men who escaped.”

  “Benny told me.”

  “Oh…okay. He was—”

  “He’s in Oneka Falls,” said Benny, his expression leaving no room for doubt. “With LaBouche.”

  “Well, well,” Scott said in a tone that would have frozen open flame. “At least I don’t have to worry about where I’m going later today.”

  There was an uncomfortable silence that stretched across the space of ten heartbeats. Mike cleared his throat. “Yeah, well, about that…”

  19

  “Where’s the big monkey, babe?” he asked.

  “Father is speaking with him. Put him out of your mind, my love.” Brigitta slipped her small, perfect hand into the crook of his arm. “Father asked me to convey his thanks, his appreciation, his respect for what you’ve done for us. For everything…for Sing Sing. He regrets the necessity, and hopes you bear him no ill will.”

  “How could I, babe? The way I was back then, I’d have ended up in prison with no help from him or anyone else. And anyway, he got me out. Or you did, which amounts to the same thing. I’d say everything’s jake.”

  “I knew you would, my love.”

  “Does Pop have something for me to do? I hate to sit around like a lump in the carpet. I’ve done enough of that to last a lifetime.”

  “Oh, my love, no! Never call him that. Either call him Father or Herlequin. He hates to be called ‘pop.’”

  “Oh. I didn’t mean anything.”

  “It’s okay, my love. And to answer your question, he does. You will enjoy the task.” She smiled at him sweetly. “And so will I.” She stood on tip-toe and kissed his cheek. He couldn’t remember for sure, but he imagined she’d been taller. “Oh, I almost forgot,” Brigitta said. “Father has a few gifts for you.” She pulled a set of keys out of her pocket.

  “What is it?” he asked, looking at the keys.

  “You’ll find out when we get back to the parking lot.”

  “It’s not… I hate to sound this way, but I’d rather not have LaBouche’s car.”

  Brigitta laughed. “I wish you could see your expression, my love. But no, Father knows you better than that. I’m to remind you to look in the trunk.”

  Owen felt like a kid on Christmas morning, waiting for his parents to come down so he could open presents. No one had ever given him gifts—not since he was small, and he felt a ridiculous amount of gratitude. “I’m sure I’ll love them.”

  “As am I, my love. Now, can you run back to the parking lot or are you too old?”

  Owen laughed. “I’ll show you too old.” He reached for her, and she smiled and tilted her head back. When she closed her eyes, Owen sprinted away toward the path, laughing.

  “Oh, my love! You cheater!”

  He won the race, and deep down, he knew she’d let him. But that didn’t make him mad, like it might have once. Instead, it endeared her to him. “I love you, babe,” he gasped between breaths.

  “And I, you, my love,” said Brigitta. She wasn’t even breathing hard.

  “Can you… Never mind.”

  “Ask me, my love.”

  “Well… No, it’s stupid.”

  “My love,” she said, resting her hand on the back of his neck. “Anything that’s in my power is yours.”

  “Can you…can you teach me magic? Can I stay young?”

  “Oh, my love,” she said in a tone filled with regret. “There are limits that even my Father can’t break. I’m sorry.”

  “Yeah,” said Owen, suddenly on the brink of tears. “I just… We never had much time together and I…”

  Her small, cool palm caressed his cheek. “Our time has been short, my love. But we lived what we had back in 1979 to the fullest, didn’t we? And we will live the time we have left the same way.”

  “Yeah,” he said, dashing tears from his cheek. “I don’t know what’s the matter with me. I’m not blubbery.”

  “Shh, my love.” She turned and pointed toward a sleek car parked in the lot. “I wonder if your keys fit that beast.”

  He blinked a few times and turned and looked. “What in the hell is that thing?” The car was mean looking, he had to admit. It was a two-door beauty with a fancy hood and fancy wheels, slinky and low to the ground, but what struck him most about it was that it looked mean.

  “Father knew you would like something from before, but we didn’t have much time to procure this gift, and these days, cars from that era are rare. This, my love, is called a Dodge Viper.”

  “That beauty’s a Dodge?” he asked.

  “Yes, my love. Do you like it?”

  “Oh, babe, I love it.”

  “Go open the trunk. The other gift Father bought you is inside.”

  “Tell him I said thank you, babe. From the bottom of my heart, thank you.”

  “He knows, my love.”

  He glanced in the window as he walked around the car. Red leather interior, fancy seats, manual transmission… “I think I’m in love, babe.”

  “With me or the car, my love?”

  He glanced at her, and his grin matched hers. “Both.”

  “Open the trunk. Let’s see if the last gift can compare.”

  With a broadening grin, Owen popped the trunk. “Holy fuck, babe!” His eyes stretched wide, and his hands shook. “Is that…is it what I think it is?”

  Brigitta smiled, eyes glistening. She walked over to him and glanced down at his crotch. “I guess you approve?”

  “Oh, babe…I don’t even… Is it a…” He gave up on speech and picked up his new rifle. “I saw these on a show in prison—a show about those pansy SEALs, but this weapon is a thing of beauty.” The rifle was long-barreled, and heavy, even for a rifle. It was a semi-automatic and had a bipod built right into the front of the stock. “I wi
sh I’d still been in the Corps when they went into Iraq. The first military branch to use these beauties was the Corps.”

  Brigitta smiled like an indulgent mother, encouraging her child’s excitement. “Tell me all about it, my love.”

  “It’s got an effective range of over a mile—over a fucking mile, babe—and can punch right through walls, through armor plates, even!”

  “Can it?”

  “Oh yes. The show was about Somalia. Snipers would wait for the enemy to pop up and take a shot, and then duck back down. They aimed below the window. Shot them right through the wall! Bang! Dead enemy.”

  “It sounds wonderful, my love,” she said.

  “I can’t believe it. I just can’t believe it.”

  “It’s all true, my love.”

  “A motherfucking Barrett M82A1! I never even thought I’d see one of these, let alone fire one. Even once!”

  “It is our hope you will fire it more than once, my love.”

  “You and your father, babe… I can’t say it in words. I’m not good with words. Can you look inside me and see how this makes me feel?”

  She snuggled up to him, pressing her breasts against his side. “I can, my love, and so can Father. He is pleased you like the gifts.”

  “Like them? I fucking love them, babe. And you. And him! Tell him for me!”

  She put her hand on the significant bulge below his belt. “Later, my love,” she breathed in his ear.

  20

  Scott drove the OFPD cruiser into Oneka Falls at a few minutes past two o’clock. He didn’t care much for his role in the plan, but Benny had assured him it was necessary. And he’d said it was the most effective thing he could do for them.

  He parked the car on the side of Union Street and got out. The old church was swarming with State Troopers, and none of them looked bored. He signed in with the trooper who had log duty and ducked under the tape.

  “Scott!”

  He turned and looked at Trooper McCarlson with a stony expression. “Don’t give me any shit, Stan. I’m not leaving.”

  “No, of course not, Scott. You surprised me, is all.”

  “Can’t sit in that fucking house alone for one more—” Scott snapped his mouth shut with an audible click.

  “No, no. I can’t imagine, Scott. If there’s—”

  “Want to run me through what you have so far?”

  “Sure, Scott. Sure.”

  “But…just leave out the parts about…”

  “Sure thing, Scott. Follow me. There’s so much here…well, I’ve got to tell you that the forensics guys are going a bit nuts.”

  “This place hasn’t been open long, from what I understood from OFPD’s chief.”

  “No. A year and a half, maybe two. It flew under the radar until the anonymous tip came in. It was like a production line or something from the amount of DNA and other evidence.”

  “Any…any bodies?”

  “No, Scott. Nothing yet.”

  Scott nodded. “Okay, run me through your working theory.”

  Carlson nodded and started talking. His cadence was fast, and his tone was all bubbles and candy-canes.

  Scott put himself on autopilot and zoned out.

  21

  Toby drove the Odin Desperado back to the barn where he’d hidden it the first time. They’d gotten to town soon enough to see Scott turn down Union Street, and the trip out to the barn had been less than ten minutes. Toby had left the BMW for Shannon, so the garage area in the rear of the Desperado held Scott Lewis’ Jeep Wrangler. The Jeep was a better car for their part of the plan anyway, and even if it wasn’t, LaBouche had seen Toby driving the BMW. They might be on the lookout for a man in a red BMW.

  He parked the big RV and turned off the engine.

  “Go, go, gadget-RV,” Benny said with a smile.

  “I prefer to think of it as a Transformer,” said Toby.

  They piled into the Jeep and Toby backed out of the RV. “You should drive, Mike. I don’t know Oneka Falls anymore.”

  “I thought your memory was back?”

  “Well, yeah, but the last time I was here… Mill Lane threw me for a loop on my last trip. Ended up speeding through town, turning blindly.”

  “You could get a ticket for acting that way,” said Benny.

  “Yeah, and you’ve run out of friends on the police force.” Mike said it with a smile but sobered right after he spoke. He and Toby swapped places.

  “Still haven’t been able to reach Jack?” asked Toby.

  “No. Neither has his wife.”

  The three exchanged glances, and Benny shook his head. “Would it help her to know? Would it help you?”

  “Of course, Benny,” murmured Mike. “It would help.”

  “The town manager demon got him. You were on the phone with Jack right before…”

  Mike squeezed his eyes shut. “I should have—”

  “No, Mike,” murmured Benny. “By the time Jack called you, his fate was sealed. There’s nothing anyone could have done.”

  “Where is his body?”

  Benny shook his head. “Not much left,” he muttered

  “Dammit!” yelled Mike.

  “You know who is to blame for it,” said Benny in matter-of-fact tones. “The best thing—”

  “Don’t you think I fucking understand that?” snapped Mike.

  “I was just trying to—”

  “I know. I know, Benny. Sorry.” Mike put the Jeep in gear and drove east, away from town. They turned south on McMahon Road and skirted the edges of town. Once they were far enough south, they turned west until they reached 16, which brought them to the Thousand Acre Wood.

  Mike turned onto an old ranger road—more of a pitted cart-track than a road—and crept into the forest itself. “Where do we park the Jeep? Will there be a nice sign to tell us? Park here to kill demons?”

  Benny chuckled. “No, but I’ll know where to stop. Plus, the dog-things will be in the area. Maybe.”

  “Oh God,” breathed Toby.

  Mike shook his head and kept driving.

  22

  Shannon had the sunroof open and the windows rolled down. It was chilly, but she wore a warm coat. Plus, she wanted everyone to see it was a woman driving.

  She came into town from the west, pulling up to the one stoplight next to town hall. She didn’t even glance at it. I’m not Shannon Bertram. No. I’m a blonde. I’m cute, but not remarkable. She still wasn’t sure about what Benny had told her, but he seemed to be right about everything else. The worst thing that would happen to her is someone might think she’d gone crazy or stolen a BMW.

  Chaz Welsh walked in front of the car and smiled at her. Her heart exploded. Does he see me? What do I do? Do I run?

  Relax, Shannon. He doesn’t perceive who you are. Your superpower is strong. Be calm.

  Shannon didn’t know how Benny always knew when she was freaking out. It was kind of cool, but then again, it was also kind of creepy.

  After today, Shannon, I’ll cut the cord if you want. It’s up to you, I don’t want to force anything on you.

  She marveled at how different his mental voice was. Confident. Strong. It will take some getting used to. We’ll take it a day at a time. He didn’t answer her. Does that mean he can’t hear me all the time?

  The light changed, but Chaz Welsh was still standing in front of the car, smiling, chewing his gum. Shannon smiled and batted her eyelids. Are you looking at little old me? Blonde little old me? I’m nothing special. I’m below your notice. You are not interested in me.

  Chaz’s eyes drifted to the car behind her and his expression slackened. He looked around as if he were coming awake and with a shake of his head, crossed over to town hall. She didn’t watch him go, she kept her eyes—and her thoughts—on the traffic light. As it turned yellow, she goosed the BMW, and it surged into the intersection. She turned right and then left on Mill Lane—Toby’s street. Taking Mill to where Union dead-ended into it, she turned left onto Union and dr
ove three blocks. She parked in front of a house two blocks past St. Genesius’ Sanctuary of the Holy Mother.

  Thinking about being blonde and unremarkable, Shannon slumped down in the seat and prepared to wait for her cue.

  23

  Owen roared into Oneka Falls, both sated and satisfied. The Barrett was in the trunk, and thinking about it made him want Brigitta again. She wasn’t with him, though, which was upsetting, but she’d said she would meet him at the church.

  God damn, I love this car. I love my rifle, and I love Brigitta! The thoughts made him warm and rosy. No woman had ever made him feel like that. Not even Stephanie. Not even on Stephanie’s Death Day.

  He fishtailed the car onto Mill Lane, delighted with the smoking tires and the expressions on the faces of the people out walking. Gunning the accelerator, Owen raced up to Union, where he slid around the corner again, laughing.

  He parked in the rectory’s driveway. The plan was perfect. No one in town would know where the fire originated—the perfect sniper’s nest. The belfry of St. Genesius’ was perfect. He’d be able to cover the entire town with the Barrett—it had more than enough range.

  He got the big rifle out of the trunk and carried it by its handle. It’s my briefcase, he thought with a grin. He carried the big box of ammunition under his other arm. He climbed up to the belfry, whistling an old disco jingle from the 70s. When he got to the top, he set down the rifle and the ammo, and he opened the shutters on all four sides. It was perfect. He had clear sight lines of every place Brigitta wanted him to cover.

  No time like the present, he thought and laid down on his stomach behind the rifle. It would make one hell of a noise in the belfry, but that couldn’t be helped. He scanned through the monstrous scope attached to the M82, looking for a likely target. He had the picture of LaBouche’s “partner” in his pocket, but he didn’t care if he shot that man or not. Part of him wanted to avoid it, despite what Brigitta wanted, just to spite the big yellow ape.

  The hub of police activity was less than four blocks north. An old church, Brigitta had said. He did not understand why an abandoned church would interest a bunch of Statie motherfuckers, but, at the same time, he didn’t give a rip about their interests—he was interested in seeing their blood splattered on the sidewalk.