Evil in Me, page 28
“Y’all wait here,” Dan instructed. “Gonna go introduce you.”
Tina handed Ruby her guitar and helped Vutto up.
Vutto winced and his eyes flared beneath the sunglasses. The worms, their song was growing louder by the minute. Ruby could see Vutto struggling to hold it together.
Dan’s voice echoed down the hall. “Alright folks, they’re here and ready to make some noise.”
“No!” Vutto snarled, shaking his head. “No! They are my friends! I not kill my friends!”
Tina glanced at Ruby, her face going pale.
Sheelbeth has him, Beel said. We are out of time.
“Let’s go,” Ruby said, and they headed for the stage.
“Hold on, man,” Tina said to Vutto, helping him along. “Just a little longer. You’re a Night Mare now, you’ve got the mojo.”
Vutto sucked in a deep breath and gave her a weak smile.
“And here they are,” Dan announced. “The Night Mares.”
The trio climbed onstage and Ruby was relieved to see the place was packed, the main floor and the balcony. There had to be at least triple the people at the previous show, if not more. And she dared to hope that it would be enough if … if they could just get playing before Vutto murdered her.
Vutto slid behind the drums while Ruby and Tina plugged in. Tina stummed her guitar and the crowd surged forward.
* * *
It’s me, Richard.
I found the Metroplex, knew it was the right place because I could feel the witch near, her song so clear, no longer sweet, but cruel—taunting, torturing me. I needed to get my hands about her throat, now that very minute.
I pulled around back, spotted the Cadillac.
“Ruby!” I cried, and hit the brakes. She was there, heading in the back door of the club. I started to jump out, stopped—the demon, it was with them. I froze, terrified, then noticed the creature hobbling, barely able to make it up the steps, realized it was no longer much of a threat. I fumbled for my gun, but it was too late; they’d entered the building.
“Dadgumit! If I’d only been here two minutes earlier.”
I pulled into the lot, searching for a spot near the Cadillac, only there weren’t any; place was about full. I ended up farther away than I would’ve liked, but at least I was near the street, which would be good for a quick getaway.
I sat staring at Ruby’s car, trying to figure out my plan. Just grab her and run was about all I’d come up with. Only, how was I supposed to do that with the place so full? Can’t just drag her off the stage. Yet, waiting felt wrong. I could only guess how many other fine folks were feeling the same draw I was, the same burning desire to taste the witch’s blood.
I watched a gaggle of rejects strut by, hooting and hollering, and a chill crawled down my spine. Christ, what if someone else got her first? Can’t let that happen … no matter what. Be so unfair after all I’d been through. I groaned, knowing my opportunity to play, to have some one-on-one time with Ruby, was over, that I’d have to just shoot her and be done.
I touched the cold metal of my revolver and hoped that shooting Ruby would be enough to satiate this hunger, this craving. I feared it wouldn’t.
I gently rubbed the throbbing lump on the back of my head and hoped that Chinese bitch would be there too. Because I wouldn’t mind taking her down as well.
I picked up my hunting knife, admired its razor-sharp edge, decided it wouldn’t hurt to bring it along, because I still might get the chance to slit Ruby’s throat, to feel her warm blood on my hands.
I looked at the duffle bag of tools in the floorboard, at the pliers, drill, the torch. My eyes lingered on the torch and part of me wanted to cry. I’d never used a torch before and it looked like I never would, because I knew, in my gut, I wouldn’t be walking away from this—be dead or in jail very soon.
There came the grind of guitars being tuned. I took a long look at the building. The club appeared to have only the front and rear entrance, all the windows being boarded up or barred.
“Fucking firetrap,” I said, not wanting to go in there, knowing the place was a disaster waiting to happen. I cocked my head and thought about what I’d just said.
I stuffed the revolver and hunting knife into my belt and crawled into the back of the van. I pulled two empties out of the trash. Grabbed a roll of paper towels and climbed out of the van. I walked around back, to where I kept a five-gallon jerrican mounted next to the spare, unhitched it, and filled both bottles with gasoline. I wadded up a large wick of paper towels and stuffed them tightly into the tops of the bottles, watching as the paper towels soaked up the gas.
“The world starts in flame, the world ends in flame.”
I slid a bottle in each pocket of my trench coat, double-checked that I had my lighter, then took a peek in the van’s side mirror, nodding approvingly at the insane makeup-covered face smiling back at me.
“Well, I’m certainly not bored,” I said and chuckled. “No. Never felt so alive.”
I headed for the club, grinning and reeking of gasoline, just another freak going to the freakshow.
* * *
Eduardo sat in the front seat of his truck with the doors locked, hands clutched tightly together as though in prayer, trying to stop shaking.
“What was that? What the fuck was that?” But he knew, it was exactly what Ruby had said it was. A demon, and it had her. Not only had he seen it with his own eyes, he’d felt its evil, almost a thing he could touch. Like that woman, the one in the woods with the dead babies. And that voice coming from Ruby? He tried not to hear it, to force it from his mind. But he couldn’t get it out of his head. Was that the very Devil speaking through her?
“God! What kind of wickedness have you got yourself into, Ruby?”
Eduardo let out a weak wail, then a whimper. A pathetic sound, like some terrified child. He glanced at the plastic Jesus hanging from his rearview mirror, then away, too ashamed to meet Jesus’s little eyes.
He squeezed his own eyes shut, pressing out tears. “Oh, God. Oh, sweet, Jesus. I done failed you. Failed Martha, failed Ruby, and more than anyone, failed myself.” It was his father’s face that came to him with a look of utter disappointment, just like when Eduardo had hit that poor woman with his truck. Eduardo let out another whimper. “God, can’t go home to them. Not like this. Can’t bear it. Help me, Jesus. I’m begging you to help me.”
He heard the rumble of guitars tuning up and flinched, stared out through his tears at the club. It was at that moment the little gold string holding the plastic crucifix broke. Just popped loose for no apparent reason. Jesus bounced off the dashboard and landed right on top of Eduardo’s praying hands.
Eduardo looked down to find Jesus’s little plastic face staring up at him with sad, gentle eyes, and it was as though a hand was placed on Eduardo’s shoulder—firm yet full of love, telling him not to be afraid, that he wasn’t alone.
All at once, Eduardo understood. This wasn’t a test; this was a chance. God was giving him a chance. He saw the woman’s face, the one from the accident. Eduardo’s heart sped up. “Redemption,” he whispered. “Oh, Lord, I see.” He brought the crucifix to his mouth and kissed plastic Jesus on the lips. “Thank you, Jesus.”
With tears rolling down his face and snot running out of his nose, Eduardo retied the gold string around his neck, wearing plastic Jesus like a necklace.
“I am a warrior for the Lord.”
He stared at the Metroplex, not with fear, but with hard determination.
“Hang on, Ruby. I’m gonna save you.”
He shoved the handgun back into his shoulder holster, unlocked his door, and climbed out of the truck, striding boldly toward the front of the club.
“Though I walk through the valley of death, I shall fear no evil. For thou art with me.”
* * *
“Evil, Evil, Evil!”
Ruby scanned the crowd, surprised to hear so many chanting for the song. She guessed they’d heard it on the radio, then she recognized Gary, the obnoxious rockabilly kid from the 688 show. And not just Gary, but his whole rockabilly crew. She did a double take—there, right next to them, the frat guys, again the same ones from the 688 show, and it appeared they’d brought plenty of friends along with them as well. The arty gals where here too. Ruby realized almost everyone up front was from the 688 show. But this time she sensed no hostility; they were smiling and chanting, rocking back and forth.
They’re here for the song, Beel. For the magic. Oh, God, were gonna do it this time. Really gonna do it!
Yes, Beel said. You are going to do it, Ruby. You are going to set us free. Now, start playing before Vutto kills you.
Ruby saw the strain on Vutto’s face; how he was struggling to hold on. She slipped over to the drums. “Okay, Vutto, let’s go. Let’s get free of Lord Motherfucker for good! Okay?”
Vutto nodded.
“Hit it, Vutto. Give me a beat!”
Vutto raised his quivering hands above the tom, but seemed unable to start.
“C’mon, Vutto!”
The demon shook his head like he was trying to dislodge an angry bee.
Ruby gave Tina a fretful glance.
Shit, Ruby thought, wondering if they could play the song without Vutto’s driving beat. She started plucking at the bass, setting up a slow tempo. Tina joined her, looping the tune, waiting for Vutto.
Vuttos ears perked up, actually wiggled. He gave Ruby a weak smile and nodded. She smiled back and he began to drum.
Ruby grabbed the mic, met the crowd with wild eyes and a fierce grin. “We’re the Night Mares and this is ‘Evil in Me.’ If you wanna feel the mojo, you gotta sing along.”
The crowd, especially those up front, let loose a wild howl.
Ruby sang the first verse solo, but this time, when the chorus came round, Ruby didn’t have to cajole the crowd to sing with her, they joined right in. At first just those up front, but by the second chorus, almost everyone was singing.
There came the familiar tingling and the magic; it was there, swirling around the whole band. It must’ve given Vutto a boost, because he bumped up the tempo, banging out his primitive beat. Tina stomped her fuzz box, kicking the song into that wonderful grinding haze of hers. Ruby let loose with her wailing voice, sending the song into a melodic groove.
The crowd surged forward. Kids leaning over the balcony, and this time when the chorus came around, the whole house joined them, all but drowning out the band and Ruby looped around to the beginning.
“Devil on my hand, Devil in my band.
Devil’s gonna take me down any way he can.
Only your spell, will keep me out of Hell.
Gotta gimmie all your heart and soul, gimmie all your heart and soul.
Gonna burn like a demon bowl, unless you give me all your heart and soul.
Gonna give you all my heart and soul, give you all my heart and soul.
Burnin’ like a demon bowl, I give you all my heart and soul.
Devil’s watchin’ me squirm, Devil’s watchin’ me burn.
Devil in my belly like a wiggle worm.
C’mon, set me free, cast out the evil in me.
Gotta gimmie all your heart and soul, gimmie all your heart and soul.
Devil’s never gonna let me go, unless you give me all your heart and soul.
Gonna give you all my heart and soul, give you all my heart and soul.
Devil’s gonna let you go, I give you all my heart and soul.
Gotta set me free. Gotta set me free. Free all the evil in me,
evil in me, evil in me, evil in me…”
Holy fuck, Ruby thought, as goose bumps crawled along her flesh. We’re gonna blow the roof off this place. The magic grew into a wave, powerful enough this time that Ruby felt it would lift her off her feet, take her wherever she pleased. She found the magic and it found her. It took no effort this time, they knew each other now, her and the spell. The scar, the symbol on her arm, grew warm as the magic entered, spreading into her chest, then, once more, that sensation of floating.
Ruby continued to sing, to howl, to lead the crowd along. The song went round and round, each time they hit the chorus, the crowd joining in, feeding the magic. Ruby could feel it swelling within her, so much stronger this time—she felt fit to burst.
“Gonna give you my all my heart and soul, give you all my heart and soul. Devil gonna let you go, I give you all my heart and soul.”
The ring, Beel called. Now. Do it now!
“Yes!” Ruby cried, and focused on the magic, amazed at its vigor, its desire to please. It spoke to her, told her freedom was hers, offering her escape from the ring and so much more.
* * *
Eduardo shoved his way through the crowd, pushing toward the stage, trying to keep out of the pit by moving along the wall. But the crowd surged this way and that, and he found no escape from all the sweaty, smelly bodies.
He searched for the demon, had to look twice at the stage before he realized the beast was right there with the band, playing the drums. He could actually see the faint glow of its eyes behind its sunglasses. Eduardo felt a chill, clutched the plastic Jesus. “I am not alone.”
Ruby was really wailing now; Eduardo could feel it in his bones. He found himself once more trying to reconcile how this wild, brazen woman howling to the world like she owned it could possibly be the same Ruby that’d been living in her mother’s basement just a few days ago.
God, she’s howling like … like … He grimaced. Like she’s possessed. Eduardo could think of no other way to describe it. He glared at the demon, wondering how Ruby fell into its trap. Then shook his head. He knew, of course he did. He thought of her room, of all the wicked posters, her art, how it was nothing but skulls and bats, and demons, and dragons, laced with symbols of the occult. Her tarot cards and that game, that Demons and Dragons game. And those Weejee, Woji, Oji, whatever-you-called-them boards, the ones with letters all over them. Why, there was just no telling what kind of door she’d opened. Eduardo wondered that it hadn’t happened sooner.
He shuddered. And me and my boy, sleeping in the same house with all that satanic crap. Eduardo made a promise then and there, the minute he got home, he was going to give Ruby’s room an enema, going to take every bit of that wickedness to the dump. Ruby was about to get some hard love, going to get some Jesus in a big way.
The stage was a platform that could be accessed from two sides. A large banner with a neon-green skull spray-painted on it hung down behind the band. The back door was nearest to the right side, so that’s where Eduardo wanted to be. He was on a mission from God and there was no way he was going to let her out of his sight, no way he was going to blow this.
The crowd grew denser as he approached, crushing in on him, filling his nose with the smell of Aqua Net, beer, leather, and bad breath. He had to knock some douchey-looking twat out of the way before finding a good spot in the shadows, up against the wall. He wasn’t normally claustrophobic, but just knowing there were no fire exits in this tinderbox made it hard to breathe. “For Jesus,” he said. “I can do anything for Jesus.”
Everyone was singing now. Eduardo wondered what was the deal, what was it about this song that had everyone so lit up? Were they all on drugs? And it was then he realized he was tapping his toes, humming along. “Stop it,” he snarled at himself. But there was something in the air, hard to put into words, a seductive warmth maybe? He studied the crowd, could see it on their faces, it was more than drugs, they were under his spell … Satan.
His eyes shot to the demon. Was it looking at him? God, it was. “No, no, you won’t get in my head.” Eduardo pushed his fingers into his ears, began praying. The prayer clearing his head enough that he realized that this was his chance, now, while everyone was so out of their minds.
There were only two bouncers, neither of them looked like much to Eduardo, and both of them appeared as gone as everyone else. Only the demon then. He touched his handgun through his jacket to reassure himself and pushed forward.
That was when the flaming bottle hit the window and exploded.
There was a slender window on the left side of the stage. There were bars on the window, so the bottle must have hit the bars first, because most of the explosion was outside, but enough broke through to set one of the amps on fire. Someone might’ve been able put it out in time, but then a second bottle hit and this one came in between the bars, smashing through the old window pane and exploding inside the building. Flaming gas landed on the floor and to the side of the stage, setting another amp and the banner on fire.
The music stopped, there was a moment of almost complete silence, the only sound that of the flames, then someone screamed, then everyone screamed.
“Ruby!” Eduardo cried, leaping for the stage, knowing he had to get her out fast.
A howl went off like a siren, a chilling sound that rose above all the screams. It was the demon, its head thrust back, wailing to the roof. It set blazing eyes on Ruby, snarled, and came for her.
“Ruby!” Tina cried. “Look out!”
Ruby just stood there like she was lost, blinking and swaying as though drunk.
The demon kicked through the kit, sending drums flying everywhere. Tina swung her guitar at the beast. The demon caught the guitar, tore it from her grasp, and smashed it into her head. Tina crumpled to the stage.
Eduardo fumbled for his handgun, started up onstage, only to be knocked back to the floor by one of the bouncers rushing to escape the flames.
Ruby seemed to wake up then, but it was too late, the demon was upon her, jumping on top of her and knocking her down. She kicked at it wildly and it caught her foot in its mouth, sinking its teeth into her ankle. There came an awful crunch and Ruby screamed.
Eduardo made the stage, leapt over, and drove his boot into the demon’s side—a scoring punt in any game, but it barely knocked the creature back. But barely was all Eduardo needed. He leveled his handgun and fired, four hollow-point rounds into the thing’s chest, and four more directly into its head, blowing flesh and bone all across the stage.
