Evil in Me, page 25
“Aw, heck!” the man barked, dropping Ruby and tugging a pistol from his belt. A deafening blast followed and a hole opened in Vutto’s chest, spinning the creature.
Vutto snarled and came on.
Another blast, another, punching big holes the demon’s chest and knocking him backward.
Still, Vutto came on, eyes spurting flames of rage.
“Devil!” the man cried, and shot Vutto two more times.
Vutto made it a couple of more steps before collapsing a few yards away, panting, crawling toward them as black blood oozed from his wounds.
Beel knew there were a thousand kinds of demons, some that could be killed with mortal weapons, some that couldn’t. He didn’t know for sure with Vutto, but judging by the carnage, he feared Vutto was done.
Vutto tried one more time to get up, fell, and lay gasping.
“It’s time to be rid of you,” the man said, walking toward Vutto, gun leveled at the demon’s head.
No, Ruby whispered, surprising Beel with a sudden rush of rage. She pushed herself to her feet, struggling against the blinding pain, stumbling toward the man from behind.
Yes, Beel thought, letting her rage swim through him, feeding on it, their combined wills giving her a surge of strength. Yes, stop him! And Beel remembered all the times he’d been a tiger, or lion, or wolf, or bear, what it was to be a predator, to depend on one’s claws and teeth. He fed this back to Ruby, the hunger, the savagery.
Together, they pushed her wrecked body through the pain. Together, they rushed the man. Together, they leapt upon his back. Together, they bit into the side of his neck.
The man screamed and the gun went off as Ruby knocked him over Vutto, the three of them tumbling into a heap.
Ruby and Beel didn’t let up, their combined fury—their desperation to stop this man before he killed them all, sent them all to Hell—turning Ruby into a savage beast, clawing at the man’s face as she chewed into his neck. A hot burst of blood filled Ruby’s mouth, feeding their frenzy.
The man brought an elbow up, hard, striking Ruby in the forehead. A second blow knocking her to the asphalt.
The man got to his feet, turned the pistol on Ruby. Ruby had torn away his bandanna and Beel could see the utter horror and confusion on his face. The man clasped his neck, trying to stem the blood running down his shirt. “Witch! Fucking witch!”
Ruby rolled to her hands and feet, crouched like a tiger ready to pounce. Together, Ruby and Beel let out a long, eerie howl.
The man pulled the trigger.
Click.
Nothing.
Click. Click.
The man dug frantically into his pocket, came up with a handful of bullets, backing away as he tried to reload the pistol.
“Fucker!” someone screamed. It was Tina, clutching a broken two-by-four like a ballplayer. She swung it, catching the man on the back of the head. The man stumbled, almost fell, fumbling bullets all over the asphalt.
Tina let out another scream, came at him again. He ducked the blow, turned and ran, darting away into the hedges, disappearing into the shadows.
Tina dashed over to Ruby, helping her to her feet. “C’mon, lets get out of here! Quick, before he reloads that gun.”
They were halfway to the car, when Ruby halted. “No, wait. Vutto.”
“No, no. We gotta git!”
Ruby glanced back at the demon. He was lying on his back in a pool of black blood, one arm reaching weakly for them. “He saved us,” Ruby said. “All of us.” She tugged loose from Tina and went to Vutto. She got an arm around him, but was having trouble getting him to his feet. Then Tina was there.
Vutto’s eyes flittered open. “I am good egg,” he said weakly.
“Yeah, you’re a good egg,” Tina said, and grabbed the demon’s other arm.
Together the two women carried Vutto to the car, put him in the back seat, and drove away.
KNOTS
Eduardo pulled into the back of the 688 Club and turned off his truck. He checked his firearm, then slipped it into his shoulder harness. He kissed his fingertips and touched them to the plastic Jesus dangling from the rearview, closed his eyes. “Jesus, give me the strength to—”
She came to him in a flash, the woman, the horrible way she was twisted up in the wreckage. Eduardo winced, fighting to push the vision away. Only the harder he strove not to see it, not to think about it, the more it plagued him. He clutched the cross that hung around his neck. “Redemption is a long hard road, but I don’t walk it alone. I walk it with you, Jesus.” It helped, it always helped, thinking of Jesus, of his love, but most of all his forgiveness.
The accident happened one week after Eduardo had been accepted into the Alabama Police Academy in Montgomery, two days after his twenty-first birthday.
The woman, Wendy Johnson—a single mom, pulling a double shift at the Wally’s Waffles—was heading over to her mother’s trailer, to pick up her four-year-old daughter. She made the mistake of pulling out in front of Eduardo, forcing Eduardo to brake, which pissed him off. Didn’t help that Eduardo was blurry-eyed drunk, so drunk that he’d been cut off by the bartender down at the Red Clay Tavern. Didn’t help that Eduardo had gotten tossed out on his ass for chucking his empty glass at the bartender.
Eduardo zipped up on Wendy, riding the tail of her little yellow VW Bug in his big pickup. She was barely going forty in a fifty mph zone. He honked, really laid onto his horn. But instead of speeding up, she actually slowed the fuck down. He could’ve just gone around her, but he wasn’t in a go-around kind of mood.
Eduardo meant to bump her, just tap her bumper, scare her, teach her not to drive like a puss. Contrary to Eduardo’s boast that he was a better driver after downing a few, he slammed into the back of her little car, watching in horror as she spun and plummeted off the road, smashing into a ditch.
That night Eduardo learned what someone looked like after being slammed into a windshield while not wearing a seat belt, the way someone screamed after having their cheek bone and cranium cracked, their jaw broken in four places, their eye torn from the socket.
When he was on trial, the prosecution put up a photo of Ms. Wendy Johnson before the accident. Eduardo got to see what a lovely woman Wendy had been. So different from the woman sitting before him now. But it was more than her disfigurement. The prosecutor went on to explain Wendy’s struggle to live with debilitating pain, how she could no longer walk without a cane, could no longer lift her own daughter.
Eduardo had broken down and sobbed in the courtroom; probably the only thing that kept him out of prison. The felony went on his record and that’s how Eduardo’s law enforcement career ended before it even started.
Shortly after his conviction, Eduardo found God in a big way, swore off drinking, hadn’t touched liquor since. He floundered around from job to job for a long time, but eventually decided if he couldn’t bring in the crooks as a cop, he’d bring them in as a bounty hunter. He wanted to serve the community, wanted, needed that bond with his father and brother.
Eduardo squeezed the cross one more time and got out of his truck. He tried not to look at the horrible scratches Ruby had left down the entire side of his vehicle. “You’re gonna pay for that. I’m gonna see to it.”
He walked around to the front of the club and knocked on the door. After a moment he heard muffled voices within.
No one came to the door.
He knocked again, this time louder.
“No one’s here!” a man yelled back through the closed door.
“I’m looking for my daughter.”
“We don’t have your daughter,” the voice called back, followed by laughter.
Eduardo knocked again, banging loudly.
The door popped open and Eduardo found himself face-to-face with some weaselly looking dude with oily hair, wearing a yellow cowboy shirt. The man squinted into the afternoon sun. “Buddy, your daughter, whoever she is, ain’t here.”
“Just looking for a little help. My daughter, Ruby.” Eduardo held up a picture of Ruby. “She played here a few nights ago. The Night Mares. Caused quite the ruckus. We saw on the news how she got hurt and all. Well, we’re real worried about her, especially her mother. Just trying to make sure she’s alright. Would you happen to know where she’s staying? A phone number? Anything?”
The guy looked Eduardo up and down. “You don’t look like her father.”
“Stepfather.”
“Are you a reporter?”
“I’m not.”
“We’ve had at least a dozen reporters sniffing around here trying to get her address.”
“Do I look like a reporter?”
“Is that a gun?” the guy asked, pointing at the bulge beneath Eduardo’s jacket.
Eduardo shrugged.
“Wait … are you with the police?”
Eduardo thought how good it would feel to drive his fist into this man’s smirky little mouth. “Just a phone number. Please.”
“Can’t help you, man,” the guy said and shut the door.
“Prick,” Eduardo huffed. He contemplated knocking again, contemplated kicking the damn door down. Instead, he turned around, started for his truck, stopped, turned back around, and stared at the door.
He let out a small laugh. “Right in front of my face.” The door was covered in tattered band flyers, and one, a fresh clean one, listed the lineup at a place called the Metroplex. At the bottom of the list was the Night Mares.
“Why, that’s tonight,” he said, and grinned. Eduardo tore the flyer off, stuffing it in his pocket, and headed for his truck.
“Jesus is showing me the way.”
* * *
Beel carefully opened Ruby’s eyes. Ruby was asleep, and he didn’t wish to wake her. They’d returned to Tina’s place late in the night, not getting to sleep until just before dawn, no one able to sleep until Vutto passed out; his fitful moans and groans finally settling down.
Beel moved Ruby’s eyes so that he could observe Vutto. The demon lay curled up in a blanket beneath the stairs, shivering and sweating. He would survive, Beel was sure of it. The demon appeared to heal much faster than humans. But that wasn’t necessarily good, as the scar, the star on his forehead, was almost gone. Beel pondered if they should try and kill the demon, now, while he was weak. Because as soon as the star was gone, Vutto would most certainly kill Ruby. But despite its wounds, Beel wasn’t convinced that they could kill Vutto; demons were unpredictable things. He had seen one cut in half, only to turn into two demons. He feared trying to kill Vutto might only hasten him falling back under Lord Sheelbeth’s control.
How long did they have? So hard to guess.
Beel heard the worms. How could he not? Their song rang in his head now, growing louder as the waxy blood grew thinner upon the ring. Who would get them first, Vutto, or one of the tainted, or Lord Sheelbeth herself? Did it matter? It was all the same in the end. Were they really gambling everything on this show tonight? By the stars, why? he asked himself, the answer coming quickly. There is no other chance. No other choice.
But there is … scrub the ring. Hand myself over to Lord Sheelbeth’s mercy.
A twinge of guilt surprised him. Guilt for Ruby? he wondered. No, of course not. What is she to me? Just another greedy human, that is all. Only he knew that wasn’t true, not anymore. They’d joined together, had fought together, had saved one another … had drank blood together.
But there was more to his guilt. Something he preferred not to think about. Something that hadn’t mattered to him until this very moment. If this ruse did work—if Ruby’s song was able to remove the ring and he escaped, flew away on some bird—there was still the matter of the taint. He felt certain it would remain on Ruby even with the ring gone, that it would be in her blood, and evil would find her and evil would kill her.
I do not care. There is nothing for it even if I did. Our fates are cast and we must play our roles. When was the last time any human ever cared for me? Never. It was never.
Yet the thought of Ruby running from evil until she could run no more, clawed at his heart.
Stop it. God can look after his chosen children. I have burned, and I am done burning. I must escape regardless of cost.
Ruby let out a whimper, then a small cry. She jerked awake.
“Dad?” she said. “Daddy…?”
It was a dream, Beel said. A nightmare perhaps.
Her eyes found Vutto. “No, this is the nightmare.” She winced, clutched her head. “The worms … they’re louder now.”
Yes. They will break through soon.
She glanced at the clock; it read 4:30 p.m. “The show’s soon. We’re gonna make it, Beel. We’re gonna beat this thing.”
Beel wished he shared her optimism.
“We have to.” Her eyes drifted back to Vutto and he felt her shudder. “Have to, because I can’t take much more of this shit. I mean … I drank blood with a demon last night. God, what kind of monster are you turning me into?”
There it was again, she could only see him as a demon, a monster. He was shocked by how much that stung.
A willing one, he said. You seized on the savagery as though starving for it. It is the same with all you humans. As much as you pretend to be something more, you are all bloodsuckers when your back is against the wall.
Ruby fell quiet for a spell.
“I miss my daddy. Miss knowing he was there looking out for me.”
He felt her sadness; her emotions seeping into him.
“I was eight when he died, so his memory is a bit fuzzy, but he’s always so clear in my dreams. I was dreaming about him just now. He was pushing me in a swing … laughing, so much laughing. Then he was gone. Just gone. God, how I miss him. How different my life would’ve been if he’d stayed around.”
Her sadness deepened; Beel felt it like a wave. She dug a cigarette out of her pocket. Lit it with a shaky hand and took a drag.
“He was always there for me. Always on my side.”
Her sadness turned to anger.
“Can’t remember the last time my mom was on my side about anything. Had to be back before Daddy died. Seems like we’ve been at war ever since.” She dabbed at her eye. “I miss my old mom too. The mom before Daddy died. Before she turned into such a bitch. Before that ass-bite, Eduardo, moved in.”
Did you not talk to her about this?
“There’s no talking to her. She doesn’t listen to me. Ever.”
Perhaps she feels the same about you. In my experience, humans do not know how to speak from the heart … it causes many misunderstandings.
“Look, she thinks I’m mentally ill. Just nags me to take my pills so she doesn’t have to deal with me.”
Perhaps there is more going on. Maybe she is worried about you. Feels these pills are truly helping you?
“God, you’re starting to sound like Dr. Fatass. He’s always throwing it all back at me. Well, fuck him and fuck you.”
I am only trying to say that there could be misunderstandings. That the truth might be deeper.
“Look, where’s this coming from? Why are you defending her? You don’t even know her.”
But I know you. Maybe better than you do.
“What does that mean?”
I am within. I see what people hide, even from themselves.
“Well, that’s creepy as fuck. Why don’t keep your nose to yourself.”
If only I could. You carry a lot of pain.
“No shit.”
You are not the only one. People hide a lot from themselves. Block out the things that scare them … the trauma, mistakes, the bad. You would not be the first to create your own reality of who you are.
“What the fuck are you talking about? I know who I am.”
It is good to leave the bad behind, to let it go. But sometimes things are shut away before they are delt with. They linger, fester like an infected wound, spreading their poison. Often it is not something intentional, just sometimes a person is born a bit broken … unable to deal with life’s struggles.
“Oh, and that’s me, born broken. Right? Good Lord, you do sound just like Dr. Ferguson.” She stubbed out her cigarette, grinding it angrily into the ashtray. “Where are you going with this?”
Where am I going with this? Beel wondered, thought he knew. There was once a time when he was more than a tool of murder, when his talents to manipulate the mind did many good things for those whose lives, whose bodies, he inhabited, man and beast alike. How he longed for those days, when his only purpose was to share the many joys of life with those he possessed. So, it was fair to say that if he could once more feel what it is to help someone, then maybe he could convince himself that he wasn’t becoming a demon after all. And there was something else. Perhaps Ruby wasn’t the only one hiding truths, because maybe, just maybe, this strong-willed woman who drank blood with him was starting to matter. And if he could help her, even a little, on what might be her last hours on earth, then why would he not?
Ruby, it is real. This trouble within you. I can see it. How can I describe it to you? It is like the strings that hold your mind together have become tangled, some even knotted. And these knots … they impede your ability to cope, to heal, even to understand yourself. In essence, blinding you to yourself. I am sure your Dr. Fatass has plenty of fancy terms for this, but from where I am, it is simple. Your mind is full of scars.
He felt her temper flare. “You know what I don’t need right now? I don’t need some demon telling me what’s wrong with me! That’s what!”
I am not a demon.
“Well, you sure as fuck aren’t human, ’cause if you were, you wouldn’t be laying this bullshit on me.”
Her hands began to tremble; he could feel her fighting back her rage. “Here,” she snapped. “Let me tell you what’s wrong with me. My daddy, he came home from Vietnam with his mind messed up. He just needed some love and understanding. You wanna know what he got from my mom? Endless arguments and fights. She was always laying into him. Like he wasn’t already dealing with enough crap. But that ain’t the half of it. The real kicker, the real kicker is my mom, my dear misunderstood mom, she went off and had an affair with one of Daddy’s best friends. Can you believe that? He should’ve shot the both of them dead. I sure as hell would’ve. But instead, he killed himself … committed suicide. So as far as I’m concerned, she might as well have murdered him.”
