Nephilim Rising: The Complete Series, page 9
part #0 of Nephilim Rising Series
I nodded. "I’m fine, Frank, thanks for asking."
Frank wiped the blade of his large knife on his jeans, then slid the knife into a sheath inside his jacket. 'Let’s go."
Shaking my head, I followed behind him as he led us down the stairs. "Were they demons?" I asked as I stepped around a large scorch mark in the hallway, the remnants of the demon Frank had been fighting with.
"Lower demons, yeah," Frank said as we went through the front door. "Like attack dogs. They’re called Pit Demons."
Attack dogs. Seemed like a good comparison to me. "Who controls them, though?"
Frank stopped suddenly as he neared his car, and whipped his gun out, aiming it down the street. "I’d say that guy there."
When I looked, I saw the rotund figure of a man about thirty yards away, standing in the middle of the street. At first glance, the man seemed normal enough, dressed as he was in a dark suit. But then that weird flickering thing happened, and the man suddenly became something much more demonic. He resembled a huge toad that stood on two legs, with the biggest mouth I’d ever seen. "Jesus Christ," I breathed.
"Go!" Frank shouted as he started firing shots at the advancing demon, none of which appeared to effect it much. "Take the Mustang and meet me on Clear Mountain Road."
"What? What about you?"
"It’s you they want." Frank fired another burst of bullets. "Go now!"
I glanced once more at the demon in the street. It’s blubbery body was oozing dark blood from Frank’s bullet wounds, but it still kept advancing at an unhurried pace, as if it knew Frank couldn’t hurt it.
I hope you know what you’re doing, Frank.
As if to prove that he did, Frank shot down a Pit Demon that had been hiding in the bushes of Diane’s house along with a number of others, their eyes glaring through the brush as they awaited unspoken instructions from the bigger demon. After shooting the first one, Frank pumped several bullets into the next Pit Demon to show itself. The rest stayed in hiding after that.
Turning, I ran to the Mustang and got in. As Frank continued to shoot at the demon, I frantically searched my jacket for the keys. When I finally found them, I started the ignition, then looked in the rearview mirror to see Frank reloading his gun, and the demon much closer to him than I would’ve liked. Once again, I hoped he knew what he was doing, though I was nonetheless in awe as I watched his fighting form in the Mustang's rearview mirror whilst still pulling away from the curb. He pivoted and turned, shot left and right, high and low, his body seeming to follow his head with the slightest of gaps, time enough to shoot and eventually reload; his ready mag clicking in at astonishing pace, his free hand whilst still free, stabbing and slicing with commensurate speed as he took on the demon. It was hard not to be impressed by such a show of fearless skill.
I drove off up the street, gunning the Mustang much too fast through the narrow city streets, on my way to the location Frank had given me. I was jacked up on so much adrenaline, I couldn’t even hold a thought. The only thing I was focused on was getting to Clear Mountain Road, just outside the city.
By the time I got there, I realized I couldn’t remember barely any of the journey. The first rest stop I saw, I pulled in and cut the engine. Silence then enveloped me in its claustrophobic grip. For long moments, I just sat there, staring out the window into the dark, completely numbed by everything that had happened.
Then I thought of Josh and Diane, and I started to shake uncontrollably. As soon as I said Josh’s name out loud, I broke down completely and slumped against the steering wheel, where I stayed crying for a very long time.
10
About an hour later, Frank’s car pulled up alongside me in the rest area. I leaned across and wound the window down so I could talk to him. I didn’t notice any fresh wounds on him, so I assumed he got away from the demon unscathed. "Hey," I said in a flat voice. "You got away okay then."
Frank nodded, a sort of pissed off look on his face, which I was starting to think was the face he wore most of the time. Resting bitch face, as they say. "Yeah, I did." He stared across at me for a second, slightly awkward, as if he didn’t know what to say next. "So, I have a place a few miles from here, up the mountain a bit. You’ll be safe there."
"Safe?" I couldn’t help but snort at the notion. "I don’t think I’ll ever be safe again."
Pressing his lips together, Frank looked away for a moment as he leaned on the steering wheel. "The way I see it, you don’t have a choice."
I stared hard out the window for a long moment, before transferring my stare to him. "Why are you doing this?"
He shrugged and shook his head slightly. "I’m not sure what you want me to say to that. I already told you, I can help you. I’m the only one who can."
"You couldn’t help Josh, or Diane."
"I didn’t know they were in trouble until it was too late."
"Because you were too busy following me."
"That’s right. Again, what do you want me to say?"
I covered my face with my hands then, holding them there for a few seconds before letting them slowly drop. "I…don’t know what to do." It came out in a whisper almost, an admission of helplessness, and I didn't like it one bit. I shouldn't have been surprised by it, for slowly and inexorably it had been creeping up, wrapping me in cloying self-doubt and now new shades of guilt at what had happened. Maybe had I spent time differently in the past six months, different from wiping myself out until I couldn't think, then perhaps Josh and Diane might still be here. She had done right by us, she didn't deserve the ending that had been done to her, and I now had to live knowing how much I'd disappointed her, now never having the chance to show her that her faith hadn’t been misspent, and that her efforts weren't in vain.
"You’ve been through a lot recently, I get it," Frank said. "Why don’t you follow me to my cabin, you can stay the night, get some rest. In the morning, you can decide whether you want my help or not in finding your brother. Although I gotta tell you, this whole thing is bigger than just you and him, so for that reason, I’m staying involved. If you want to go it alone, that’s up to you, but I would strongly advise against it."
My mother’s words echoed in my head then: You can’t do this alone, Leia…
"All right," I said, unable and not wanting to think of any other options. "Lead the way."
Frank’s cabin was a good distance away. A steep winding road cut through the forest covering the mountainside, which eventually leveled out and lead into a large clearing between the trees. In the center of the clearing stood Frank’s small cabin. The place was about as isolated as you could get without moving to the Arctic Circle. It seemed to me that a person would only live alone in such a place if they disliked people and society in general, or if they were hiding from something. I didn’t know which one applied to Frank yet. Probably both, I thought.
When I got out of the car, I walked behind him across the leveled ground toward the front door of the cabin, the gravel crunching under my boots seeming especially loud in the silence of the wilderness. Every sound seemed to carry for miles. In the dim light of the half moon, I caught sight of what looked like symbols of some kind, painted onto the front of the cabin in various places. Upon closer inspection, I decided the symbols looked similar to the ones I had seen in my mothers journal, and in the books back in the storage locker. The front door had its own set of symbols as well, painted on with white paint, some of which were very intricate. "What’s with the symbols?" I asked him as he opened the front door.
"Protection," he said, just as a loud bark came from inside the cabin. A second later, a black Labrador came running to the door to greet Frank, resting his front paws on Frank’s stomach so Frank could ruffle his ears.
"Is he protection too?" The dog was now staring suspiciously at me, and I didn’t take another step in case it decided to pounce on me.
"Bane has protected me more times than I can count at this point." Frank looked down at the dog. "It’s okay, Bane. She’s family."
I couldn’t help but glare at him, wondering why he would say that. Frank and I would have to have a talk about what constituted family. Still, if it weren’t for him, I would probably be dead by now. So despite everything else, I knew I had to cut the guy some slack, for now at least.
To help matters along, I crouched down and smiled at Bane. "Hey boy," I said, hoping he would come to me, which he did after a moment, standing in front of me so I could smooth his big head. His large amber eyes seemed to look deep into mine, as if he was searching my soul for signs of bad intent. When he licked my face, I assumed I had passed his test.
"He seems to like you," Frank said, a slight smile on his face. "He tends to be picky about people, so you should feel privileged."
I looked up at him then, wondering if he was talking about Bane or himself, but he had already turned and gone inside.
The inside of Frank’s cabin was pretty much what I expected to see, in that it was basic and didn’t cater to any notions of good taste or design. The place was purely utilitarian. It felt bare, and devoid of any personality. The tiny living room had two scruffy armchairs by a stone fireplace, and a long table by the window that was covered with books, some of which appeared to be nothing more than novels by the likes of Hemingway and Jack London. Various newspaper clippings were also strewn across the desk, reporting what looked like murders and unexplained happenings in the city and surrounding areas. A police scanner was also atop the table. There didn’t appear to be anything on the walls though, except for a fishing rod and a double barreled shotgun.
I hovered around the living room in awkward silence as Frank rummaged around in the almost non-existent kitchen area, which consisted of a few small cupboards above a short bench, and a sink. The whole place smacked of a man who had mostly turned his back on society, and who seemed completely unbothered by his decision. Despite the heavy vibes of loneliness that hung in the air around me, I could almost respect Frank for living as he did. On some level, I wished I could live the same way, far from the maddening crowd as it were. I wasn’t exactly a big people person myself, Kasey being my only friend. City life also drove me crazy most of the time.
It occurred to me then, that if I didn’t manage to find Josh—or God forbid he turned up dead—I might end up living there in that cabin with Frank after all.
Stop it, I told myself. Josh isn’t going to die. I’ll find him before that can even happen.
At this point, I had to believe that with all my heart. The thought of losing Josh was just…I couldn’t even consider it.
As I shook my head slightly, I caught sight of Frank staring at me, and I quickly looked away as if in shame.
"Would you like a drink?" he asked me. "Do you drink?"
I nodded. "I drink, too damn much."
Frank laughed for a second. "Figures."
"I take it you like to drink?"
"Oh yeah, too damn much."
A slight smile appeared on my face. "Figures."
He threw me a look and shook his head as he walked into the living room with two glasses in one hand and a bottle of whiskey in the other. "Have a seat," he said, gesturing to the farthest armchair before sitting in the closest one, the most threadbare one. As I sat down, I noticed how easily the whiskey bottle seemed to balance on the arm of Frank’s chair, as if hundreds of bottles just like it had now created a permanent impression.
He half-filled one of the glasses and handed it to me. Whiskey wasn’t really my poison, but it served its purpose of calming my nerves somewhat. A few moments later, though, anxiety and a heavy sense of grief began to overtake me again. Turning my head away, I stared down at the cold ashes in the fireplace, trying to get my mind around the fact that Diane was dead, and Josh had been kidnapped, seemingly by demons.
"Are you okay?" Frank asked, already on his second glass of whiskey.
"What do you think?" I said scowling at him.
Frank nodded slightly and looked away.
Sighing, I shook my head. "I’m sorry. I just can’t stop thinking about my foster mother, and my brother." At that moment, I thought I understood why Frank lived alone, given that continual loss of life seemed to be a constant in this new reality, and that such losses could be minimized by having less people in your life.
"I know. I’m sorry."
Chugging back the rest of my whiskey, grimacing at the foul taste, I held the now empty glass out for Frank to refill, which he did, though he put less in this time. "Please tell me you know something," I said. "Tell me my brother isn’t dead."
"I don’t know anything for sure, unfortunately," Frank said. "As far as I can tell, your brother has been kidnapped by demons. I don’t know what for yet, but I intend to find out."
"You said earlier that this is bigger than me. What did you mean by that? Has this happened before?"
"There have been similar incidents recently, all over the country in fact. Young Nephilim like your brother are being snatched by demons, though no one knows what for, not yet anyway."
I shook my head in disbelief. "You knew this was happening and you didn’t think to warn us?" I couldn’t keep my anger down, though I fought to keep it from exploding.
Frank held up a hand. "Listen, I did the best I could. I only became aware of the kidnappings a few days ago. I’ve been keeping an eye on you ever since."
"An eye on me?" I shook my head. "You couldn’t have taken a more direct approach, like telling us what the hell was going on?"
"Really?" He shook his head. "So if I had knocked on your door, and started spouting all this stuff about demons, telling you that you and your brother are at risk of being kidnapped by them, you’d have believed me? You don’t even know me. Would you have believed I was your uncle even? Something tells me you wouldn’t have."
"You don’t know that."
"Oh yeah? What do you think Josh would’ve said?"
"He probably would’ve punched you out."
Frank nodded. "I’ve been watching your brother too, not just you. Josh seems to get in a lot of fights, in and out of the gym."
"He has anger issues."
"My point exactly."
I could only shake my head as I was forced to accept he had a point. There was no doubt Josh would’ve went for Frank had he shown up on our doorstep talking about demons and whatever else. I may have heeded his warnings, though, given that I was more open to my Nephilim heritage than Josh would be. Either way, it didn’t matter now. The only thing that mattered now was getting Josh back safe and sound.
"All right," I said. "At least tell me you have a plan that will help get my brother back before…I don’t know what. Why are these demons taking people?"
"I’m still working on that."
"I suppose you’re still working on a plan as well?"
"Hey," Frank said, a sharpness in his voice. "One step at a time. At this point, I know about as much as you."
Sighing, I shook my head. "Fucking great."
"I know it sucks, but there’s nothing you can do for Josh right now. If it helps, I don’t think he 'll come to any real harm. If they’d wanted him dead, they would’ve killed him at the house."
"That’s very comforting. Thanks."
Frank shook his head at my sarcasm, as if the last thing he needed in his life was a sullen, argumentative teenager with a bad attitude.
As silence grew between us, I was forced to admit that there was nothing I could do for Josh, not until I had more information. I was also forced to concede that I was now relying on Frank to get me that information. He was the seasoned soldier, the one with all the knowledge and contacts. By comparison, I was just a fledgling who had all but fallen out of the nest for the first time. As such, it was going to take me a while to find my wings.
"It’s late," Frank said eventually. "You should get some rest. Tomorrow we’ll try to track down Josh."
There was still a lot I wanted to ask Frank, about his years of absence, and about his relationship with my mother, and about why he and my father had stopped talking to each other. But I simply couldn’t face any more emotional upheaval, which such topics of conversation would surely bring, so I got up and followed Frank out of the living room and down the short hallway to a small bedroom. As I went to enter the bedroom, I noticed the trapdoor in the hallway floor, which must’ve allowed access to a cellar. I wondered if the cellar was Frank’s version of my mother’s storage unit, but I didn’t bother to ask him about it. For now, I just wanted to be alone so I could at least try to get my head around everything that had happened tonight.
"You can sleep here tonight," Frank said, gesturing around the room, which contained no more than a bed and a chest of drawers. Frank really did take minimalism to new heights.
I nodded at him. "Thanks."
Frank nodded back, somewhat awkward in my presence. "I’ll see you in the morning then."
When Frank left the room, I went and sat on the edge of the bed for a while, just staring at the floor as I went over in my mind the shocking sequences of tonight’s events. I felt sick to my stomach every time I pictured Diane’s dead body, her neck twisted grotesquely, a look of sheer horror and agony frozen on her face. "Jesus Christ," I said, getting up so I could aimlessly pace the room, on the verge of a mild panic attack as my heart rate elevated and my skin began to get clammy.
Calm down, Leia, calm down…
Eventually I stopped pacing after I told myself that I needed to try and calm down. I needed to think about something other than Josh or Diane. So I went out to the car and retrieved my mother’s journal, along with Josh’s laptop, bringing both back to the room.
Sleep was an impossibility, so I watched the video of my mother a few more times, drawing a strange sense of comfort from seeing and hearing her speak. Eventually, I let the video play on a loop, while I spent the rest of the night and early hours of the morning reading the journal, hoping to find answers to questions that I didn’t even have yet.
