Exodus, page 8
The other scavengers were busy with the canned foods. All of them worked as fast as they could to gather everything they could safely carry.
Warren and Kelli had brought pillowcases, doubling them to increase the strength.
“Listen to me,” Warren said desperately, locking eyes with her. He’d found over the years that making eye contact with people he wanted to persuade was somehow more effective than simply voicing a logical argument. “There’s something out there.”
Kelli hesitated then. Warren had gone out of his way to get her from the club one night four months ago. He’d convinced her he’d had a premonition that something bad was going to happen. Only minutes later, a jealous boyfriend came in and shot his girlfriend and nine customers. The girlfriend and two of the customers had died.
“What makes you think that?” she asked. “I just know it. We need to get out of here.”
“We need food,” Kelli argued. “We’re running out of things to eat.”
“If we don’t leave,” Warren told her, “we may not be going home tonight.”
She stared into his eyes. “Are you sure?”
Warren nodded. “I’m sure.”
Kelli glanced around, but Warren knew he had her. “All right,” she said.
Warren took a fresh grip on his pillowcase. It was less than half full, but he’d scored peanut butter, which would make George happy.
Lights suddenly flashed against the broken windows of the convenience store.
“Coppers,” one of the other scavengers groaned.
Immediately the scavengers began dumping items they’d stolen from residences onto the floor. For many of the scavengers, looting was a natural outgrowth of survival. Maybe they couldn’t at the moment sell the jewelry, tri-dees, or individual entertainment systems they’d boosted, but they believed everything would return to normal soon. Then they planned on making small fortunes selling their stolen goods.
George was doing the same thing when he went out to forage.
The policeman entered the convenience store and shined his flashlight around. Illuminated by the beam, the man looked tired and old. He wore riot gear, bulky and stiff. He carried an assault rifle in his other hand.
“You people need to get out of here,” the policeman said. His beam fell across the scattered jewelry and other items on the floor that clearly didn’t belong in the convenience store. His face hardened. “And stop that bloody thievery. Don’t any of you have a conscience? You’re out there robbing the dead. Or people that have been scared out of their homes.”
“Don’t lecture us,” a big man snarled. “We might not even get out of this. And if we do, we aren’t going to have much. Insurance isn’t going to cover our losses. I didn’t have any alien insurance. Did you?”
“They’re not aliens,” someone else said. “They’re demons.”
“What do we have here?” the first man asked sarcastically. “Did the parson leave the vicarage long enough to come down and loot with the rest of us heathens?”
“Don’t talk like that,” someone else said.
“Get moving,” the policeman said, “or I’m going to run the lot of—”
A shadow unfurled in the window, swinging down into the window from above and smashing through the glass. The policeman tried to turn and bring his assault rifle into play. He had his finger on the trigger and was firing in a heartbeat.
But it didn’t last long. In one stride, the demon was on the policeman. It closed one hand around the policeman’s head and yanked.
Warren heard the man’s spine snap even across the store. By then Warren had Kelli by the wrist and was dragging her into motion. He ran for the back door, slamming through the alarm bar.
Immediately the alarm filled the night.
Forgot about the batteries, Warren chided himself. Alarm systems would have a secondary power source in case the primary one was shut down.
The cobblestone alley ran in both directions, but the way to the left dead-ended at a tall fence topped with barbed wire. Kelli immediately took off to the right.
Warren started to follow but the warning tickle fired through his brain again. This time it bordered on painful. He stopped short, tightening his grip on Kelli’s wrist.
She cursed at him. “Come on.” Her voice was tight with desperation. “That thing is going to be coming!”
People ran past them.
Warren held his ground and maintained his hold. “No. We can’t go that way.”
“Let me go!” Kelli jerked, trying to get free.
“Don’t! If you want to live, don’t—”
The first of the scavengers fleeing the convenience store reached the end of the alley. Something huge and monstrous burrowed up from under the street.
Warren had never seen anything like the creature. It was as huge as an elephant with a gaping maw.
The lead runner vanished into the hole through the street. The demon reached out and captured another person—things were so confusing that Warren didn’t know if the victim was male or female—then bit down. Stumps of legs fell to the ground like crumbs.
The other scavengers tried to reverse their direction, but it was too late. A line of mastiff-sized demons vaulted over the back of the first demon and dropped onto the scavengers, taking them to the ground in their jaws.
Warren pulled Kelli into motion again, heading for the dead end. He halted at the bottom of the wall and formed a stirrup with his hands.
“Up you go.”
Kelli stepped into Warren’s hands. Thankfully she was slight of build. He had no problem propelling her up. She grabbed hold of the top and rolled over.
Warren leaped up after her, managing the top on his first leap, then pulling himself up. He flung himself over the top and pushed off. He landed and threw himself forward, seeing that Kelli already had a good speed worked up.
Seven
S omething smacked into the wall behind Warren. He glanced over his shoulder and saw a wedge-shaped head with ruby eyes hang on the barbed wire for a moment, then it slipped back down to the other side.
The fence is too tall, he told himself, and hoped that was the truth.
Then something—or several somethings—kept smashing against the wall. Wood splintered and gave way. By that time Warren had caught up to Kelli. They reached the street together in four more strides.
“Which way—”
Before Kelli could finish her question, Warren felt the warning itch increase again. He threw her down, covering her with his body. The broken window of the Italian restaurant ahead of them showed the menacing reflection of a feminine-shaped demon with wings. She missed them by inches.
Pushing himself up, Warren hauled Kelli up and started running again. She couldn’t keep pace with him despite her best efforts.
Run! Leave her behind! Warren knew that was what he should have done. But he couldn’t. He didn’t truly care about his flat mates. They had all shown too much disrespect over the last few months for him to trust them. But there was no one else in the world that he even came close to caring for.
The door of a comic book shop that Warren sometimes frequented stood open ahead. He ducked inside, pulling Kelli after him. She was out of breath, gasping hoarsely, all but undone.
Two of the hound-looking demons charged past the door.
Slowly, not wanting to attract their attention, Warren guided Kelli to the back of the showroom. Posters of superheroes with amazing powers covered the walls. Those worlds—not the impossible things that happened in them, but the way most things ended happily—seemed a million miles away. The heroes in those magazines weren’t afraid of death. But Warren Schimmer was. He’d seen it close up, had taken a life before and knew how easy it was.
“Quiet,” Warren breathed into Kelli’s ear. He tried to keep his fear out of his voice but doubted he succeeded. “Just stay quiet and we’ll get out of here.”
She was tense, shaking against him. She didn’t believe him. But that was fair; he didn’t believe himself.
One of the demons turned toward the comic shop and thrust its snout into the air.
Does it scent us? Warren didn’t know. He reached the back of the sales floor and went through the open door to the stock room. He’d never been there before. Too late, he saw that there was nowhere to go.
Boxes lined the shelves. A table occupied one end of the room. Thankfully the room was dark.
The demon approached the door and threw its snout into the air again.
Warren willed Kelli not to speak or make a sound. And he wanted her to obey him without him having to give instruction. She let him guide her like a child, dropping to the floor and crawling under the table.
Outside, the demon’s footsteps drew nearer.
Kelli almost screamed. Warren put his hand over her lower face. Don’t, he thought at her. Don’t make a sound.
She quieted, but her heart throbbed against his arm thrown over her body.
In the darkness, the demon was barely visible, but Warren made out its feet. They were gnarled and misshapen, nowhere close to anything human. But they were corded with muscle and sharp talons curled over the toes.
You can’t see us, Warren thought at it. Then he corrected himself. You can’t sense us. We’re not here. No one is in this room.
A moment later, the demon thrust its ugly head under the table. The slavering jaws were less than a foot from Kelli’s head. One snap of those powerful jaws would tear her face away.
You can’t sense us. We’re not here. Go away. We’re not here. Warren’s unspoken words felt like hammer falls inside him. A massive headache suddenly throbbed between his temples. He clung to the words desperately, and he clung to Kelli because she was shaking so hard there was no way the demon wouldn’t see her.
A moment later, unbelievably, the demon withdrew. Then it left the room. Stunned, Warren listened as the footsteps receded and finally disappeared.
Long minutes passed. During that time, Warren felt Kelli’s tears rolling across his fingers, felt her shaking as she silently cried. He also heard the screams and cries of those who didn’t get away.
After a while, he heard only silence.
“Stay here,” he told Kelli. “I’m going to go look.”
“No.” She caught hold of his shirt and tried to keep him with her.
“Let go,” Warren said automatically. His voice was more harsh than he intended, but his head ached so severely that he wanted to lie down and sleep.
Kelli let go.
Getting to his feet, Warren went to the door and peered out. He saw no demons. At the door, gazing out onto the street, he saw a few scattered fires, but no sign of the demons.
“How did you do that?”
The woman’s voice startled Warren. He drew back quickly enough to collide with the door frame and trigger a new onslaught of pain to cascade through his head.
A thin woman stood at his side. She looked emaciated, and like she’d just crawled out of a bin at a medical examiner’s office.
“Who are you?” Warren asked. The warning itch squirmed like a worm on a hook inside his aching head. He curled his fists, ready to lash out. He’d learned to fight while he was growing up in state-sponsored homes, but he’d never been very good at it. Others had always hurt him more than he’d hurt them.
“Calm yourself,” the woman said. She took a step back and averted her face as if he was shining a bright light into her face. “You are raw, boy. Has no one trained you?”
Warren didn’t know what she was talking about. He backed away from her, toward the stock room where Kelli was.
Upon closer inspection, Warren thought the woman was in her late forties or early fifties. Her skin was pale as milk, but the shadows blended with the tattoos that covered her, making them hard to identify. They looked like the sigils and symbols that had drawn Warren’s attention in the library. Some of them seemed to burn with a green fire. But her most astounding features were the stubby horns that jutted out of her forehead.
“What are you?” Warren demanded before he had a chance to think about what he was going to say.
“A human, if that’s what you’re wondering.”
It was, though Warren didn’t want to admit that.
“My name is Edith Buckner,” she told him.
“Warren,” Warren replied automatically, then stopped himself before he could give his last name. He hadn’t wanted to answer, but his first name was off his tongue before he knew it.
“Well, Warren,” Edith said. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
Staring at her, Warren noticed the dark, shapeless cloak the woman wore. It also had sigils, but these were sewn in black thread.
“What are you doing here?” he asked.
“Much the same as you are.” She smiled. “Trying to survive in difficult times. But I’m also trying to learn. As you should be. Not everyone has our talents.” She waved a hand in front of him. Yellow highlights dawned in her eyes.
Something coiled and twisted inside Warren. Although the woman wasn’t touching him, he could feel her hands on him. The sensation made him feel uncomfortable, almost sick. Without thinking about it, he pushed back.
The tattoos on the woman’s forehead and cheeks momentarily flamed lambent green. The effect was gone so quickly that he might have believed it was his imagination playing tricks on him. If he hadn’t felt her touch inside his mind.
She staggered back as though struck. Glaring at him, she took a deep breath. “Where did you learn to do that, boy?”
“I didn’t do anything.” Warren turned from her, intending to go get Kelli and get home.
The woman caught his arm. “Don’t turn your back on me, boy.”
Warren yanked his arm from her grip. “Get off of me.”
“You knew you had this power,” Edith told him in a calm, cold voice.
Warren didn’t say anything, but memories of his stepfather and mother flashed through his head.
You’ve been spending our money on that crap again, haven’t you? his stepfather yelled.
It isn’t crap, his mother replied. I have power, Martin. I have the kind of power that they haven’t seen very often.
You’re a stupid, girl, Tamara. Very stupid. People as stupid as you pay for being stupid.
Stay back! Don’t!
The sound of the gunshot that had ended the screaming match exploded inside Warren’s mind again…
“Did you have this power before the demons came?” the woman asked.
Walling off all those painful memories again, Warren ignored her. She had brought that memory to the surface with her mind-touch. He wanted to break her for what she’d done. He hadn’t thought about his parents and that night in months.
“You knew you could turn that demon, didn’t you?” the woman demanded.
Warren hadn’t known that for sure, but he wasn’t going to tell her that, either.
“If you had the power before the Hellgates opened,” the woman said, “the power is only going to grow stronger. If you don’t learn how to harness it, it may well destroy you.”
He felt her fingers inside his mind again, poking, probing.
…the smell of burning flesh and blood…the iron taste of blood in his mouth…the raw burn of power that made him feel ripped apart…his stepfather’s final screams…
“Stay away,” Warren said hoarsely. He pushed against her with the angry force that had resided within him since the night his parents had died.
Staggered, the old woman shrieked and shrank back. She was sick for a moment, throwing up on the sidewalk in front of the comic book shop. She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand.
“You need someone to teach you,” the woman said. “Someone to guide you. Before you hurt yourself or someone else. I can help you.”
Warren wheeled on the woman then, standing half a head taller than the tips of her horns. “I don’t want your help. Don’t you understand that? I don’t want anything to do with you or your kind. If you try to touch me again, I’m going to hurt you.”
The woman took a half-step back, obviously afraid of him. “You need us, Warren. You need someone to help you grow in your power before it burns through you like an electrical short and kills you.”
“That’s not going to happen.”
“You don’t know that. A lot of us have gotten stronger since the demons came into our world. We’re going to get stronger still. You need to know what to expect before you get caught up in it.”
“I don’t want your help.”
Noise came from down the block. More sirens ripped through the night, punctuated by rapid gunfire. Warren assumed the police officer had had support teams show up. For all the good that would do. The sirens would draw the demons.
“I’m leaving,” he announced. “Get out of my way.”
“There’s a group of us who have been meeting for years. We’ve noticed how more accelerated the power is in individuals since the Hellgates opened. We’re helping them.” The woman reached into her cloak and took out a pen and pad. “We could help you.”
“No.”
Edith wrote anyway. When she finished she held out a piece of paper with an address on it. “If you ever want to know more about what you’re experiencing, come see us.”
Even though he told himself he didn’t want to, Warren took the piece of paper that she pressed into his hand.
“Come see us,” the woman urged. “We can help.” She smiled. “We can help you get stronger. Strong enough even to survive what’s about to happen to this world.”
Warren heard Kelli calling out to him. He turned back to the comic shop to let her know he was there. When he turned back around, Edith Buckner had vanished. Only smoke and fog drifted through the street.
Slowly, Warren thrust the note with the address into his jeans pocket. Then he went to get Kelli.
“I heard you, you know.”
Back at the flat, Warren looked over at Kelli. They laid their precious cargo out on the table. George and Dorothy were out, presumably still searching for food as well. Warren wondered if they’d both make it home alive.
