Chapter 13
Abigail drove in silence back toward Raven’s Peak, trying to work through the turmoil of emotions inside her. It was sprinkling, and the only sound in the car were raindrops on the windshield and the occasional scraping of the wiper blades.
She couldn’t believe Frieda had manipulated her so completely, or even that Frieda would do such a thing. She’d thought she could trust Frieda. She knew they’d had a sort of falling out ever since Arthur was taken, but she’d never believed it could get this bad.
On the flipside, she could understand why Frieda did what she did, and was actually a little grateful that Frieda was looking into Arthur’s disappearance.
Still, it hurt: it felt like a complete betrayal. She expected things like this from the other members of the Council, but she’d always thought Frieda was different.
“It’s really foggy,” Haatim said after a while.
“From yesterday’s rain,” she said. She couldn’t see more than about twenty or thirty meters in front of the car, but to be honest she barely noticed. She was too wrapped up in her own thoughts and trying to figure out what was going on.
“Do you think it will start pouring again? I don’t mind this, but I don’t really like being stuck in a downpour.”
“Let’s hope not,” Abigail said. “We need to figure out who Belphegor is riding inside of and stop them—”
“The kid,” Haatim interrupted suddenly. “The kid I saw with his mom.”
“You think it’s him?”
“His mom said he went out wandering. It makes sense,” he replied. “He might have stumbled onto something he shouldn’t have. And when I saw him at the store, there was something about him that gave me the creeps.”
“You should have told me.”
“I thought I was just overreacting,” he said. “I’m new to this, so I kind of thought I was just jumping at nothing. Can you blame me?”
She shrugged. “Not really.”
“Actually, it explains Tim, too. That guy I told you about who came into the store and was acting weird. He would have had to walk past the kid in the car to get inside, so maybe the demon got to him in the parking lot.”
“Makes sense,” Abigail said. “You said they were staying at a motel, right?”
“Yeah,” Haatim said. “And then they were planning to head back to Chicago today.”
“Let’s hope they haven’t left yet.”
They fell silent for a long while. “How do we stop this demon?” Haatim asked.
“The same way we stop all demons,” Abigail said. “Kill it.”
“What if it has infected other people?”
“I doubt it can infect too many people in this short of a time frame,” Abigail said. “Or, at least I hope not.”
“How long does it take?”
“I honestly don’t know,” she said. “I’ve never dealt with anything like this before.”
“What if it has infected a lot of people?”
“Then, if we’re lucky, killing the demon will put a stop to it. And, if we aren’t, we’ll need to come up with a plan B.”
“Plan B, as in kill them?”
She didn’t answer.
A long minute passed, then Haatim asked apprehensively, “Do you think it’s infected us?”
“No idea,” she replied. “But, if you start acting funny, I’m going to have to shoot you.”
“Ha, ha,” he said. “Very funny.”
Abigail stared ahead, determined not to crack a smile.
“That was a joke, right?”
“We’re almost back to the city. First we’re going to stop in at the motel and see if we can find the—”
Suddenly there was a loud cracking sound as a gun was discharged behind them. It came from a quarter of a mile back from somewhere off in the woods. She saw the vague outline of the gas station maybe a hundred meters in front of them.
“What was that?” Haatim asked, tense.
“Something bad,” she replied. “Hang on.”
They were just on the outskirts of Raven’s Peak. Another shot rang out; this second bullet thudded into the trunk of their car, ripping a huge hole in the aluminum frame. The gas station parking lot was empty except for a behemoth red pickup truck with monster tires.
“Someone is shooting at us!” Haatim shouted, clutching the door, tense in his seat.
“No kidding.”
“What do we do?”
She ignored him and kept driving, picking up speed. She weaved back and forth so the shooter wouldn’t have an easy target. With any luck she would slip right past the gas station and find some cover.
Then, she spotted another two guys hiding behind the red truck. They were also carrying rifles but hadn’t fired yet and were hunkering down for an ambush. They were just now lining up their shots.
“Hang on!” she shouted, slamming on the gas pedal. She grabbed Haatim and yanked him down so his head was below the windshield. She aimed the vehicle straight down the center of the road and then ducked next to him.
Loud gunshots ripped into the engine block, and she heard a hissing sound as something hot started venting out. The windows exploded around them, showering them in glass, and Abigail pushed Haatim even lower into the seat.
They roared past the gas station and the firing men. The side and rear windows were little more than fragments now, and cold air whipped past her head, blowing her hair wildly.
She sat back up in the driver’s seat and tried to get her bearings. The front windshield had a hole in it and a spider web of cracks, making it difficult to see out, but she was fairly certain they were heading the right direction.
“What the hell is happening?” Haatim asked, breathless.
“I don’t know,” she said. They raced on, seeing the other buildings of Raven’s Peak looming in front of them in the fog. More gunshots behind them, but the gas station was barely visible through the sheet of fog.
“Do you think we lost them?”
Abigail didn’t get the chance to reply before a cop car came speeding off a dirt road and slammed into the back left corner of their vehicle. It made a huge crashing sound and ripped control of the vehicle from her. They spun and skidded down the road.
Haatim started screaming, and Abigail closed her eyes, trying to keep her body oriented against the centripetal-force pressure. The wind whipped her hair and sucked her breath away.
They slammed into the side of a building just inside the city. She felt her body jarred from the sudden impact, and a spike of pain shot up her leg. She was dizzy and disoriented, but she couldn’t allow herself time to recover.
In the street behind her she heard whooping and hollering and another gunshot thudded into the car. Her door was pressed against the wall, blocking her in. She slipped off the buckle, twisted her body, and kicked the windshield.
It took two kicks to break it off, and she slid out onto the hood. Haatim sat dazed in the passenger seat, blood streaming from his forehead and a concussed look on his face. She hoped he was OK.
But, right now, she had more important things to worry about.
She slipped her gun free, slipped down the front of the car, and then peeked around the edge.
Six men were running down the road toward her, shouting and whooping. Two were in police uniforms, and one looked like the guy she’d met at the bar the night before.
She picked one of the men near the front and fired off a shot. It was a long ways off, but she hit him just above the knee, and he staggered to the ground. His gun slid away, and he clutched his leg, screaming. Abigail grimaced in satisfaction and ducked back out of sight.
They returned fire, and more bullets thudded into the wall and engine block. They were still fifty meters away, and she knew if they got much closer, their accuracy would increase dramatically.
She had to find cover, but first she had to get Haatim out of the car.
“Haatim!” she shouted.
He groaned but didn’t answer.
“Haatim, get up!”
More gunshots barked around her, forcing her to duck lower behind the engine block. She was running out of time.
“Wha…what?” she heard Haatim say, followed by a series of curses.
“Climb toward me out the front of the car,” she said. She slipped around the corner and fired off two more shots. She didn’t have time to aim now that they knew where she was, but it was enough to keep them from advancing on her position easily.
She heard jostling inside the car.
“I can’t. I’m stuck.”
“Did you unbuckle your seat belt?” she called back.
A hesitation, and then: “Never mind.”
A few seconds later Haatim crawled over the hood of the car and landed next to her on the pavement. He crouched, still dazed but at least able to partially focus. She slipped the pistol out from her pants, flicked the safety off, and handed it to Haatim.
“You want me to shoot them?”
“No,” she said. “I want you to shoot at them. I’m going to run into the building while you fire; then I’m going to cover you and you’re going to follow me. Got it?”
“Got it,” he said.
“Only shoot a few—”
Haatim put his arm over the hood of the car and started firing back toward the advancing men. He closed his eyes and faced away from the gunshots. He furrowed his brow while he pulled the trigger.
Abigail scrambled, running to the doorway leading into the building. It was a FedEx office and was locked, but it was also a glass door. She busted it with the butt of her gun and ducked under the bar to slip inside.
She heard a clicking sound as Haatim ran out of rounds. She waited a few seconds, leaned back through the door frame, and started firing back toward the approaching group of men.
“Come on!” she shouted to Haatim. Bullets thudded into the wall and car, and Haatim scrambled across the ground to her position, moving on all fours. She allowed him to slide past her and then ducked back into the office behind him, taking a deep and steadying breath.
Haatim’s entire body was shaking in terror. “They are shooting at us,” he said again.
“I know.”
“I shot at them.”
“Don’t worry,” she said. “You were never in any danger of hurting anyone.”
He looked at the gun. “Do you have more bullets?”
“In the car,” she said. “I was trying to tell you to conserve ammo.”
“Oh.”
“They’re in there!” a voice shouted from outside. Abigail grabbed Haatim and pulled him farther into the store. She spun open her revolver and spilled the spent rounds onto the floor. She had a handful in her pocket and started slipping them into the chambers.
“See those cardboard boxes,” she said, pointing to a stack in the corner.
“Yeah,” he replied.
“As soon as they step through the door, I want you to throw the heaviest things you can find at them. You don’t have to hit anyone, just distract them.”
“OK,” he said.
“And stay behind the counter while you do it. Just throw them at the door.”
She ducked around a corner leading farther into the FedEx building, leaning just far enough to have a clean view of the door. The first man came charging in after only a few seconds. She fired low, hitting him in the shin, and he screamed in pain. He collapsed and started thrashing on the ground.
A second later an empty box soared out from behind Haatim’s desk, landing on the guy’s chest. He barely noticed, shoving it out of the way, and just continued thrashing. Another guy came into sight a second later, trying to step over his comrade. This time Abigail shot him in the stomach. He went down, too, dropping his gun and writhing in pain.
They were just charging in blindly, barely caring about the fact that she had a safe position to shoot at them. No tactics, no planning, just blind anger. She knew there were at least two more men coming, but they hadn’t quite caught up with their friends.
Or maybe they had just circled around to the back.
There was a gunshot from behind her at the rear door of the FedEx building. This one was also locked, and someone had just blown out the lock.
She spun, ducking, and saw another two men charging into the room behind her. She didn’t have time to line up wounding shots. Both stopped approaching and raised their guns when they spotted her a few meters into the room, but they were too slow.
She hit one in the shoulder and the other in the chest. The first dropped to the ground, screaming in pain and clutching the bullet hole.
The second fell to the ground, dead before he landed.
“Damn it,” she said. She strode across the floor and kicked the wounded man’s gun away, then kicked him in the face for good measure, silencing his screams.
She hadn’t planned to kill him, but she hadn’t really had time to react any differently. If Haatim was right, then these people weren’t possessed or willing accomplices, and that meant she’d accidentally killed an innocent man. These were just normal people locked in the throes of some psychotic break.
She took a steadying breath and listened to the room around her. It was quiet; the only sounds were moans from the wounded men. She held her gun ready, waiting to see if there were any other attackers on their way, but there was nothing.
She headed back through the FedEx building to where Haatim was hiding. He was huddled low, clutching another box to his chest and staring at the entry with unbridled terror.
He jumped when she approached, letting out a little screech. “Come on,” she said, heading toward the exit. Glass crunched under her steps. “We can’t stick around.”
She paused at the doorway and listened, but she couldn’t hear anyone outside, either.
“You think it’s over?” Haatim asked.
Abigail stepped outside. The city was still foggy, but the fog was lifting, and she could see more of the town laid out before her. All around them the streets were empty.
Down the road a few hundred meters she saw a building on fire. It looked like it had been burning for some time, but there wasn’t a fire truck or anyone tending to it. More smoke rose in the distance. Two other buildings on her street had their windows smashed in and looked to have been looted sometime in the middle of the night.
She heard a police siren sounding in the distance. It was followed by a series of gunshots and a loud shriek.
“No,” she said. “I think it’s only just begun.”
She headed back to Haatim’s Chevy. It was riddled with bullets and leaking various fluids. Smoke wafted out, and the engine was hissing; she knew it wouldn’t work anymore, and probably never again. Haatim paused beside her, looking at his vehicle with an expression of utter despair on his face.
“My car,” he muttered.
“Better it than you.”
“Yeah, I know. But, still…”
“Don’t worry, you can buy a new one,” she said.
She walked toward the trunk. It was smashed where the other vehicle had crashed into it and popped open. She pulled her duffel bag out and checked it for bullet holes.
It looked to be intact, and she let out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. Several of the items in it were incredibly rare and valuable and she didn’t have the funds to replace them.
“What’s that?” Haatim asked.
“What’s what?” she asked.
“That high-pitched ringing sound?”
“It’s the after effect of the gunshots,” she said. “Don’t worry, it’ll go away.”
He ignored her and glanced into the car, then leaned inside and started digging around. After a moment he came back out of the car holding her satellite phone. It was chiming softly.
“I meant this,” he said. He handed it to her and she clicked it on.
“Hello?”
“You need to get out of Raven’s Peak,” Frieda said immediately.
“I can’t. We’ve got a couple of civilians injured, and I need you to send some doctors. Multiple gunshot wounds. They attacked us, and at least one of them is dead. We need a clean-up crew as well to—”
“They’ve declared Raven’s Peak a dead zone.”
Abigail fell silent, utterly shocked. “They what?”
“It’s happening in two hours. Napalm. They’re going to make it look like a forest fire. Belphegor is too high risk to deal with any other way. This needs to be contained.”
“Contained, yes, but what you’re talking about…” she trailed off, shaking her head. “There are thousands of people living here.”
“I know,” Frieda said softly. “But if Belphegor gets out of Raven’s Peak, it won’t be long before the casualty count is in the tens of thousands. You’ve seen what he can do, Abi. You know we don’t have the resources to handle something like this.”
“Forest fire? That doesn’t sound like an ideal alibi if you ask me.”
“This isn’t an ideal situation,” Frieda replied.
Abigail rubbed her face. “What if I could stop Belphegor?”
“You can’t.”
“But what if I could?”
“Then we could call off the strike. But it doesn’t matter, Abi. This threat is beyond any of us. The Council isn’t taking any chances, and they’re going to kill everyone. It’s been over a thousand years since Belphegor has had access to a body, and the last time the death toll was catastrophic.”
“How long do I have?”
“Not long. Your priority is getting yourself and Haatim safely out of the city.”
“I never said I had Haatim with me,” Abigail argued.
“Abigail this isn’t a joke. I still haven’t told the Council he’s with you and they are launching a full scale investigation to locate him. If they find out he’s been with you this entire time or, worse that we put him in danger, then things will go badly for both of us. You need to leave now.”
“Then all of these people will die.”
“They are already dead.”
“I need time,” Abigail pleaded. “I can do this. Please, Frieda, I’m begging you: have faith in me.”
Frieda was silent for a long minute. “I’m sorry, Abigail. I have all the faith in the world for you, but my hands are tied. The Council has already made their decision.”
Then she hung up. Haatim was staring at her, a look of worry on his face.
“Everything OK?”
“No,” she said. “No, it sure as hell isn’t.”
Lincoln Cole
