Our Devils, page 7
Aaron cleared his throat and tried again. “Is it too late to get your job back?”
“I don’t know, maybe? I don’t know.” Marcus hung his head in his hands. “Fuck.”
With the vibe in shambles, they took an early smoke break to regroup.
Over the next hour, Marcus spilled a lot of personal history. Until last year he lived with his dad, stepmom, two brothers, one sister, one half brother, cousin, and aunt in a house not far from Aaron’s apartment. Aaron gathered that it wasn’t a great environment, and Marcus moved out with Sora the first chance he got. Now, it sounded like the next step was to move back in.
Aaron didn’t have much to add, so he sat there and let Marcus vent. He could do that at least. Eventually Pulsar grabbed Aster to train and keep him distracted. Aaron pulled out a couple of energy drinks for the pair of them, and Marcus decided to blow off some steam. Tearing up the training dummy with a katana really did seem to help.
The sun dipped low. They packed up and said their goodbyes, and then they were off.
Aaron and Pulsar soon tucked into some Chinese takeout. Aaron decided to show his monster Jaws, but he had a feeling that part of it was lost on the devil. After all, a single shark just couldn’t compare to the outright terror of fighting a giant three-eyed owl in a dark alleyway. Aaron could only imagine what other monstrous things his devil had fought along the way.
They got halfway through the movie before Aaron started looking around for other options, but he was interrupted by a knock at the door. Marcus stood there, bags in hand. “Can I come in? Please?”
Aaron opened the door the rest of the way as Marcus carried his bags in. Aster plopped on the couch, shaking with quiet tears. Pulsar jumped up next to him, looking nervous.
Marcus dropped his bags and exhaled sharply. “So my dad doesn’t want a ‘fucking demon’ in his house. His words, not mine.”
“Why does everyone hate me?” sobbed the frog, its tongue hands wiping away tears.
Pulsar looked hurt. His expression softened as he pet Aster’s mohawk. “Dude, everyone doesn’t hate you.”
“Sora says I’m a blobbbb,” he whined, trailing off into a soft vocal fry. “And dad says I’m a—a—”
“Fuck those clowns.” Pulsar’s smile grew as his eyes began to glisten. “I say you’re cool. And I’m cooler than them, so I win.”
Aaron was actually choked up for a moment. The little devil really was a fast learner. Aaron opened his mouth to add something, but thought better of it. Why ruin the moment?
Marcus spent a long time in the bathroom. When he returned, Aster had calmed down a bit. Pulsar sat with his arm draped across the frog’s broad head, idly tousling his mohawk with a big finger. Marcus sat down, said “Oh shit, dabs,” and took a trip to the moon.
Chapter 12
No one formally decided that Marcus would crash there for the night. It just sort of happened. The four of them stayed up until the break of dawn playing Tony Hawk Pro Skater, watching Fire Force, stuffing their faces, and of course, finishing the dabs.
What they failed to overlook was that something had already been sleeping on the couch. When Pulsar came out of the bathroom he found Marcus sprawled across the couch and sawing logs. Aster was plopped on another chair across from him, sleeping almost face down. So Pulsar climbed up into bed with Aaron, curled up against his side, and drifted off to sleep.
Aaron was the last to wake. Marcus was introducing both devils to the world of cheap beer. It was already late into the afternoon, past when they usually started training. Aaron thought it was a good time to introduce the devils to pizza. Marcus had the same idea with Cowboy Bebop. Aaron ordered a delivery from the dispensary, and then the dabs were back in play. Then more snacks, margaritas, and Spongebob Squarepants. Cuphead. Nap time. Burritos. Weed. Shots. Iron Chef. More dabs. Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon.
Pulsar eventually got up to use the bathroom. When he came out, he announced, “You’re out of tee-pee.” Marcus stifled a laugh and Aaron cocked his head.
“Bro,” said Marcus, “You know who he sounds like?”
“Stitch?” asked Aaron.
Marcus answered by scrolling through his phone and putting on an episode of Beavis and Butthead. When Beavis started talking, Pulsar just looked confused, and a little annoyed. But once Beavis drank a bunch of coffee and transformed into the Great Bungholio, Aster cackled with laughter. Pulsar wasn’t as amused by the comparison, but even he had to admit the show was pretty funny.
At some point, Aaron dipped out to replenish the snack supply. He dropped his items on the register. Mrs. Park rang up a banana and put it on top.
“Hey did you see more teriyaki jerky?” Pulsar was standing behind him with an armful of snacks stacked to his chin.
Mrs. Park screamed bloody murder. She fumbled under the counter, possibly reaching for a weapon, and Aaron sobered up fast. He tried to talk her down as Pulsar backed up, giving her space. Aaron worked to coax her out of her panic, and soon he was scanning his items for her. She looked up, hurt and afraid, and snatched the chips to scan them herself. Mrs. Park kept her eyes trained on the devil as she worked, her mouth clenched tight and her hands running on autopilot. When Pulsar stepped up, she visibly flinched. The devil picked up a fruit, said “Banana,” and ate it, peel and all.
Aaron chuckled and scratched behind his ears, trying to disarm the situation. “It’s okay, he doesn’t bite.”
“Yes I do,” said the oblivious little monster. Then he asked Mrs. Park, “Why are you scared?”
She shook all over, and soon the shaking turned into laughter. Uproarious, unhinged laughter. Aaron had never seen her laugh before. Hell, Aaron had never seen her smile before. Seeing him pet the devil seemed to do a world of good, and she tentatively reached out to pet him as well. He leaned into it, squinting and tapping his little foot. She was delighted.
He really did have a way with people.
Then it was back to the apartment to laugh about what happened. Marcus was already packing the next bowl. Then it was more beef jerky, more shitty beer, more bong rips, It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia, rum and coke, Howl’s Moving Castle, leftovers, and more dabs, in roughly that order.
Perhaps the most eventful thing that happened that night took place while the humans were playing Soul Calibur. They heard the bathroom door close, but they didn’t see which devil closed it. Minutes later, they heard the shower turn on. And then, rhythmic thumping. The humans traded a confused glance. Confusion turned to shock, disbelief, amusement, and perhaps a pinch of disgust.
When they were all cleaned up, Pulsar kicked the door open with a satisfied grin and plopped on the couch. A towel was wrapped around his tiny waist. Aster trotted after him, not far behind, with a tired doggy grin plastered across his face. The humans watched for a beat and burst out laughing.
“Okay,” wheezed Aaron, slicking his long hair back. “You are male, right?”
“Male?” Pulsar’s head cocked.
“Yeah, like you have… you know.”
“He’s asking if you have a dick, dude.” Marcus was still in stitches, but he was happy to help.
“Yeah, wanna see?” The devil undid his towel while the humans shielded their eyes, howling with laughter.
Aaron wiped away tears. “I mean.. so you’re gay?”
“Gay?” Pulsar’s confusion raised more questions than it answered.
As they knew, when devils ate, their bodies changed in all sorts of ways. They might get taller, or heavier, or broader. They might sprout new horns or limbs. They could even grow more eyes. In fact, there were all sorts of body parts that might show up, in all sorts of combinations. That made the concept of gender a little more complicated, to say the least.
“I have twoooo dicks,” announced Aster, rolling over to show off. Marcus screamed with laughter, shouting “NO!” He forcibly rolled the devil back onto his belly before anyone could see.
And so, both species learned a little bit about each other. The humans learned that devils’ fluid physiology also lent itself to a fluid view on gender, with many opting for a “Any hole’s a goal” attitude. The devils learned that humans had a lot of complicated rules for sex: who you can have it with, when, and under what conditions. They also learned that showing off certain body parts without an invitation was generally considered rude, leaving Aster a little embarrassed.
It was a lot to get across and take in, even if they were all stone sober. Which, of course, they were not.
The conversation culminated with them watching Juno, to help illustrate a few concepts of human sexuality. And then it was time for Scott Pilgrim, to keep the Michael Cera train going. And a few more bowls and dabs. And the Big Lebowski, with White Russians, of course. Finally, it was time for Mortal Kombat and malt liquor, and edibles, more snacks, and maybe even a tiny bit of sleep.
Chapter 13
Aaron woke up with the mother of all headaches. Pulsar was thrashing his legs and gritting his teeth. Green blood was dripping from his ear. Aaron realized that his ears were also bleeding. He sprang out of bed.
Marcus and Aster, too, were going through the same ordeal. Red blood stained the couch and cerulean blood stained a cushion on the ground. Aaron was too panicked to care.
The humans got dressed and rushed outside to find Agent Reyes with a few spooky black SUVs behind her. Aaron saw the other agents whisper among themselves when the devils stepped out.
“We have a situation,” said Reyes, by way of a greeting. Then she nodded to Marcus. “We need your help too.” Marcus looked to Aaron for guidance, but the big man was on edge.
“Got a devil on the loose?” asked Aaron.
“I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t serious,” said the agent. The thought crossed Aaron’s mind that this might be some kind of elaborate trick to take them in, but the more he thought about it, the less sense that made. He wiped more blood from his ear, realizing it would be a pretty big trick to make them all bleed simultaneously. And more importantly, it didn’t seem necessary. If they wanted to make them all disappear, they clearly had the manpower to do it.
Agent Reyes took a slow, shaky breath and begged him, “Please.”
“Okay,” said Aaron. “But I’m taking my car.”
“We’ve barricaded off the area, but there are civilians right outside,” said Jess. “And you don’t have tinted windows.” Aaron huffed and admitted that she had a point. So he stepped into the first SUV and Pulsar jumped in to join him. Marcus continued to stand like a deer caught in headlights, but Aster galloped ahead of him and jumped in the next SUV. Marcus reluctantly followed with a huff.
It was only a matter of time until a devil emerged somewhere a little more public. Today was that day. They headed to the freeway exit on Boxwood, not far from where the owl appeared. The new, enormous devil had already done some major damage, destroying several cars, a parking garage, and the coffee shop across the street. And by the sounds of it, it was only getting started.
“Don’t you have a SWAT team?” Aaron’s forehead throbbed and he asked for any kind of coffee. Another agent passed him a canned one, to his immense relief.
Yes, they did in fact have a SWAT team. They were keeping it busy.
Marcus was horrified. “What are we supposed to do?”
“I don’t know,” Reyes admitted. “We’re trying to get more help here as soon as possible. For now, we need time.”
Aaron and Pulsar looked at each other as the fear settled in.
Reyes caught the look and clarified. “You are under no obligation to fight. Any of you. But even if you don’t, your input could make all the difference. Can you give me that?”
The convoy stopped at a barricade where a crowd of civilians had gathered. The guards tried their best to keep the crowd at bay, but there was no way to control all of them—or their smartphones. Several people filmed their car as they passed, catching great footage of the tinted windows. Aaron kept his devil’s head down all the same.
Past the barricade, it was another turn and another block to the destination. At the very least, the police had succeeded in blocking off a very large area—large enough to keep the fight from prying eyes. They turned the corner and parked behind another barricade, at the safest distance they could manage.
The intersection sat a block away: three streets, an on-ramp, and an off-ramp. There, the SWAT team did their best to keep a creature distracted, but their bullets just ricocheted off its carapace. The enormous turtle was covered in dull grey stone with a pink glow that showed through the jagged cracks in its armor. It reared up slowly and turned as it fell, catching one of the SWAT officers unaware. Its massive head came down on top of the man, annihilating his lower body. It grinded its chin into the ground, adding insult to injury, before biting into his ribs. The devil lurched up and tossed him at least fifteen feet into the air. Its second head followed, catching the man between them. Then it tore him apart, literally, chomping on the body armor like it was a peanut shell.
Marcus looked terrified. “You want us to fight THAT?”
“That’s the SWAT team,” gestured agent Reyes. Then she pointed out the twisted hulk of a street tank. “And that’s their APC.” Aaron faintly noticed that there was more than one force fighting the monster: while many of the people on the field had uniforms that identified them as police, there were several more who wore plain black bulletproof vests without any insignias. Those ones seemed a little less surprised to be fighting a two-headed turtle, which probably meant that they were with Reyes.
Another officer fired an explosive at the turtle, which crashed into its upper shell. It stunned the creature for a fraction of a second at best.
“What are the weak points?” Aaron rubbed his chin as his gears turned.
The agent sighed and took off her glasses. Her sharp hazel eyes caught Aaron’s attention. “So far, just its eyes. But it’s not making them easy targets.” Sure enough, the turtle had a perpetual squint, which paired with its perpetual frown.
She explained that they had tried high caliber machine guns, flashbangs, frag grenades, tear gas, C4, and everything short of air support. A drone hovered overhead, trying to assess the situation.
“Why haven’t you used air support?” Aaron watched as the turtle spun the APC with its snout, hunting for its next snack.
“The brass still wants to keep this under wraps,” she said. “And there’s no hiding air support.”
Aaron angrily gestured at the turtle. “You don’t think the cat’s out of the bag?”
Reyes turned to look him directly in the eye. “We’re doing everything we can. More help is on the way.” Then her gaze softened, almost pleading. “I don’t expect you to stop it on your own. Just buy us some time. Please.”
The humans quickly ran through their options while the turtle spun a wrecked car, hunting for more food. Marcus chimed in. “What exactly did you do with the C4?”
Reyes flagged down a munitions specialist to fill them in. They had tried a direct attack, dropping it from nearby buildings, and even rolling it under the thing’s belly. Nothing even slowed it down.
“What about the mouth?” suggested Aaron. As they watched, the turtle opened one of its two mouths, taking another chomp out of the street tank. Its mouth, too, was rocky on the inside, but with more pink showing through. It was also large enough to swallow a dirtbike whole.
“We can’t get near it to find out.” Reyes looked uneasy as the turtle plodded towards a manned barricade. The people there opened fire on it and retreated to other positions, trying to split up its attention.
“I can.” Pulsar spoke quietly. “I can get close.”
And so, a plan came together. Pulsar just needed to get close enough to the turtle to chuck a bundle of C4 into its open jaw. Which means he also had to goad it into trying to eat him. What could possibly go wrong?
Taking stock, they realized the turtle’s set of attacks was fairly basic: it didn’t shoot anything, it didn’t throw anything, and it wasn’t very mobile. It was just very well defended, and had two enormous, hungry heads. The question was, what was the safest way to distract him so Pulsar could do his job?
A call for Reyes came in and she stepped away to take it, leaving the boys and their devils with a couple of other men in bulletproof vests. A pair of bushy eyebrows introduced himself as Chief Machado—he was in charge of the mission. He listened to their plan, offered a few good additions, and regrouped with his team.
The turtle lurched and grabbed another officer, chomping his leg off. There was only so much more they could prepare. Aaron dropped his duffel bag and began strapping throwing axes and hatchets to his thighs. Then he hefted his big axe and scraped the blade across the ground to pump himself up. Marcus took a ragged breath and unsheathed his cherry red katana. The others watched, horrified that it had come to this.
“Fight dirty.” Aaron chanted the mantra, lighting a fire in his monster. Pulsar grinned savagely and growled. Aster stepped up beside them, the little frog looking unusually resolute. Marcus took a shaky place beside his frog, struggling to steel his nerves and find his grip.
The pairs approached from opposite sides, hedging their bets. Pulsar and Aaron approached nearer the heads while Marcus and Aster approached the stubby tail—which was still almost six feet long. They had several charges of explosives stashed in a pair of bags, which they left hidden behind some rubble. Aaron was privately terrified, suspecting that even his new regenerative powers wouldn’t be enough to regrow a limb. He couldn’t even imagine how Marcus was feeling.
Aster started off the plan. He struck the turtle’s tail with his tongue to draw its attention. The turtle barely registered the hit, so Aster did it again. The turtle lowered its body, spinning on a point tucked under its shell. Once it turned to face him, Marcus and Aster bounded off in separate directions. The plan was for one head to follow each of them, but instead they both focused on Marcus. Aster desperately aimed for the creature’s eye with his tongue, but it was a long stretch and the frog kept missing by a hair. Once Marcus slipped out of sight into a ruined coffee shop, both heads turned to face Aster. Aaron stepped in and took a wild swing at its leg, just to try and divide its attention, but it was like trying to crack stone with a licorice stick.
