The Red Queen
by Cindy Hutchins
For Lance Henriksen. Thanks for entertaining me.
He hears lightening, partially from memory, but mostly from something yet to come, something he is dreaming.
It fires around him, pure and deadly, his hair stands on edge and he feels it humming in his bones. He loves that place, that is life, that is what stirred the primordial soup, that is what holds together the stardust of the human soul. He can only visit that place, Zeus' throne room, but he can steal the fire from others.
It isn't prognostication that brings him here. It's a dream he is dreaming, a fantasy he has played out a thousand time. He knows what makes the fire. It's him.
That, for the moment is just the dream. He now moves in the hinterland between those moments of rapture, being one with the gods and the sad, ugly reality of humanity. He is searching to replenish his fire.
He moves through the darkened street and he is not himself. Nikola is with him in spirit. Confident, ready, hungry. He is a panther now, quietly stalking his prey on some lone prairie of the city. It is one of those desolate places where only the predator and prey go.
He sees her standing there. His breath comes in a cloud like smoke. He sees the field around her, the dancing Kirlian aura of electricity that surrounds her. He loves her like the wolf loves the deer. He loves her that way.
"Looking for a date?" She says.
She flares red, blue, the colors of the power around her flicker as she speaks. He is enthralled, he can feel it radiate off her and he wants it, needs it. Soon he will take if from her and she will be one with him.
He takes her hand wordlessly and leads her into the further darkness, an alley. He runs his hands through that hair, then suddenly grabs it, pulls her back hard. It will be as painless as he can make it. He is starving and she will give him sustenance. She will feed him for a while.
His knife moves too quickly for her to even scream, severing her long neck and destroying her voice box. She struggles weakly. He watches the light go out around her, the life force fade. He wills it to come into him. Now she is his.
Frank took another bite of his toast. The eggs were gone, the bacon finished and the coffee just dregs. He had been starving when he woke up, odd for him as he wasn't really a morning eater. But it had smelled so good and the music of Jordan's laughter and Catherine there, so beautiful in the bright morning sun. It was perfect.
The ringing of a phone dragged him back from paradise and something in the pit of his stomach tightened.
"Let it ring." Something whispered in his brain. "Linger here."
He couldn't, of course, though the temptation was strong. He rose in the sunny kitchen of the big yellow house and walked to the phone. He dodged dog and daughter on the long trek back to hard reality.
"Frank Black." He said, his voice gravel and wisdom.
"Frank, it's Peter. We need you to go to Colorado Springs. There's a case there. Four deaths so far."
"When do they need me." He looked over at Catherine and saw her eyes darken just a bit. She knew who it was and what they wanted. She would deny them if she could.
"Soon as possible." Peter responded.
"Sure. I'll get a plane. Be there this afternoon." He said and hung up the phone. He walked over to Catherine and put his arms around her.
"Where are they sending you?" She asked, her annoyance only thinly veiled in her delivery.
"Colorado. I'll only be a few days. When I get back, we can put in the herb garden next to the house. I think it will be good for Jordan to get her hands in the dirt."
"Oh, she's familiar with dirt." Catherine said and smiled as Frank picked Jordan up and kissed her cheek.
"Are you going again, Daddy?" She asked.
"Yes, honey. I'll be back in a few days."
"Benny misses you when you're gone." She said, quietly. He turned her around and looked deeply into her eyes.
"I miss Benny, too. But I tell you what. I'll bring him a bone. Would he like a bone?" She broke into a smile. "Maybe I'll bring one back for you, too." He teased.
"Daddy!" She giggled and he put her down. Then he went downstairs to check his computer down into the bowels of his other world.
The Ouroborus glared at him like the eye of Sauron. In the middle, a count down to God only knew what. He entered his password and waited as the computer beeped and hummed.
It was strong and took him completely by surprise. Knowing he had his gift, he had become accustom to it's uninvited visits, but this was like a hammer hit him in the temple. Visions crossed his view.
A Tesla coil, sparks filling the air and the sting of ozone. It is empty, the room, he shouldn't be here but he can be no where else. There is obsession, he is becoming. Not even he is sure what, but it will be something amazing. The lightening fills the room and there is release, his arms shoot into the air and he feels it tingle all over his body...
And then it was gone. The file opened and he saw crime scene pictures, police reports, the usual. Never before had it been this powerful, this… close.
Four women, prostitutes, throats cut very deeply, left to bleed out, posed. This was almost textbook. He knew there had to be more if the Group was interested.
He heard his computer ping telling him he had an email. It was in his private account. A moment of key striking and he opened the missive.
"Frank, the Group has requested that you work with Cerise Lutwidge. She's a free lance contractor that the Group deals with rarely. This is her case and she requested you. I cannot go into details, but Frank, please, watch your back. Peter."
Yes, there was definitely a lot more here than met the eye.
The flight was uneventful until the end, a breathtaking vista of flat plain that stopped abruptly with a range of mountains that went directly up into a clear blue, sky. Once on the ground and in a cab on his way to the Doubletree Inn, it became even more awesome. Now that he was below that jagged cut of rock the true majesty of it grandeur struck the soul like a hurricane, making his heart skip a beat. It was the kind of sight that made one realize their insignificance. That gave perspective.
The Springs itself was a lovely little town, a quaint square surrounded by book stores and restaurants. Kids skateboarding at one end, people reading and eating at the other.
His cab took him off the square to a large building that loomed not unlike the mountain the end of the street. He climbed out and paid the cabbie, grabbed his bag and entered.
The hotel was nice and centrally located, that's why he'd chosen it. There near the door was one of those shelves with local tourism brochures, one caught his attention, the Tesla museum. It looked like a tourist trap, but the visions still loomed in his head and this felt right.
He entered the hotel and checked in and was given a Chocolate Chip cookie.
"Be careful, those are addictive and you can only get them here." Came a voice from behind him.
He turned and a woman stood behind him, red hair, red clothing, blood red. There was something else, something that gave him an instant dislike for her.
"Cerise Lutwidge. You're Frank." She said, her voice a beguiling melody, her posture almost too relaxed.
When she offered her hand to shake it seemed more like a test then a gesture. She met his eyes and didn't blink, holding his eyes with hers. There was confidence there, and cunning, the eyes of a sociopath.
He took her hand, thankfully no visions came. He didn't want to know what was in this person's soul.
"You want to grab a coffee? Help me get up to speed?" He said, trying to hide his reaction. He sensed she could see through him the way he could see through her.
"Definitely." She replied, her tone insinuating some deeper mystery. She was a viper. A snake.
But he knew there was something here. Something he needed to learn. This would be instructive and dangerous. But he knew he had to walk forward, no matter what.
"So, who do you work for?" He asked, making polite conversation while they waited for coffee.
"Me." She said and took another bite of cookie. "You know, you can buy these by the dozen to take with you. You should. You know, for Jordan."
He resisted the urge to leap up and drag her around by her collar, issue threats of worse then death if she ever even thought about his little girl again. Instead, he shifted and watched her, she seemed pleased by his reaction. Everything about this was a test and he was growing tired of it.
"Do you know what this is?" He asked and threw a folder on the table.
He opened it and say Kirlian photograph. "It's supposed to be pictures of auras, if you believe in that kind of stuff." He offered, but he knew there was more.
"Someone does." she returned
"You think this has something to do with our killer?" He offered.
"I know it does." She replied and took the cup the waitress offered.
"How?"
"Burns. From a taser."
"Maybe he just wants to immobilize them.?" He said and took a sip of his coffee.
"Post mortem? No, it's about the electricity. And you know it" She drained her cup.
"OK. Enough, who are you and how do you know me?" He said suddenly, barely hiding his contempt.
"Just a fan. There are certain circles in the world Frank and whether you know it or not, you are part of some of them." She said, cryptically.
"Yeah? And what circle are you from?" He asked.
"Seventh." She said with no hint of humor.
"I'm done playing this game..."
"I'm from the circle that is currently trying to keep you alive. I'm not the only one who sees you, Frank."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"Do you trust them?" She asked. He hesitated, knew exactly what she was talking about. "Me either. I will never lie to you."
"Why should I believe you?" He asked.
"I don't care enough to lie. Besides, it's more fun to screw people with the truth. But for now, I'm your ally." She waved off the waitress with the pot of coffee and threw a twenty on the table.
"Wanna see the latest crime scene or body? I don't know how you like to work. Or, you had a long flight. Maybe you want to take a few, unpack, unwind?"
"Why did you request me?" He asked, not moving as she stood.
"Your the best. You're a knight, Frank a power piece. I needed to meet you for myself. Now, want to find a killer or do you want to ask me a bunch of pointless questions all day?
He thought for a long moment and stood.
"Let me drop off my luggage and we'll go see the scene." He replied, grabbed his bag.
"I'll wait here." She nodded and motioned for more coffee.
Frank couldn't imagine this town having a dark, seedy corner, but the killer had managed to find one. There was still blood reflecting black from the pavement, a sign it had been there a while. His eye scanned the area. Forensic teams were very careful, but in the chaos of a crime scene often missed things, small things.
The electricity was here, he could almost feel it. He couldn't tell if the trash cans had been knocked over or if they were part of some kind of fight. He imagined her fighting, falling and trying to save herself but that felt wrong. She died too quickly.
"You ok?" She asked and he nodded.
"Are we going to meet with the local police?" He asked.
"If you insist. I'd rather keep this intimate."
'Walk forward.' something in his brain said.
"No, this is fine. Are we working this for a private interest?"
She nodded. "Yes," She responded and fell silent, sat back to watching him.
"Look, if you're just going to jerk me around..."
"Sorry. You fascinate me, Frank. I'm not very good with impulse control. But I figured you out."
"And what did you figure?"
"I can trust you to do the job." She said and started back to the car.
They were let into the morgue, no questions asked and he assumed she had some pull. A moment later and the drawer opened.
She had been pretty, before the murderer found her, before the drugs and the tricks and the beatings. She was slender, skinny really in an almost malnourished way.
Frank's keen eye looked at her, looking for the unusual, the out of place, the anomalous. Nothing. Another dead woman in a world of dead women.
"Was there anything found on her body?" He asked.
"This." The coroner offered, rolling her over. On her back was an intricately burned symbol. He was unfamiliar with it. "We find this on all of them."
"What is it?' He asked as he slid on his gloves and examined it more closely.
"It's a shakti symbol. The Hindu symbol for energy. Life energy." Cerise said from her post on the door frame.
"He's stealing their life force." Frank said with confidence.
"You mean you think he's a magician?" The coroner asked as he covered her body again.
"I think he's insane. He believes he can steal their auras. Their energy fields." Frank added.
"You got that from a mark on her back?" The doctor asked.
"Frank here is a magician." Cerise offered with a smile.
"I've been doing this a long time. I get in their heads." Frank offered, throwing her a cold look.
"That must be a terrible place to be." The doctor offered, kindly.
"You don't know the half of it." He replied and motioned for Cerise to leave.
"So, what do you want to do now?" Cerise asked.
"Visit a museum." With great commend Frank left the morgue.
They walked out of the police station. The snake and her prey. Part of him wished he could warn the man, most of him was curious at what was about to unfold.
They walked like cops. She tall, confident and oddly with no aura, he more then made up for it, an older man, world weary but with more pure power then any three other people put together.
He had to have him. He had to lure him away fro her. There was something wrong with her, she was one of the walking dead he saw walking the streets with more and more frequency. She was dangerous.
But the man was worth it. He could perhaps fuel the transformation, so great was the energy in him. He was a prize worth taking the risk for.
After a silent drive, the pulled up in front of the Tesla Museum. She grinned.
"What?" He asked.
"Good call. I heard you were something, but damn, you're good."
"If you know something you aren't telling me..."
"Frank, the stuff I know that I'm not telling you would fill the Vatican library. But I'm looking for this guy the same as you."
He glared at her. He didn't think he could dislike her more then at their first meeting, but he had been wrong. She made his hackles raise and he couldn't wait to be rid of her.
Inside, the air was full of ozone. In the back of the building they could hear the crackle of electricity and the sounds of awed children. They followed it to a small laboratory with a school group watching the standard science museum electricity show.
A young girl with very long hair was touching a metal object and her hair was standing up. It was almost over.
A tall, dark young man was giving the show, he was all smiles, a true showman. He wore a suit from the turn of the century with the thin tie and long coat, but he looked more a Poe then a Tesla.
"That concludes our show. Remember that you aren't made of stardust, you're made of energy. You can be changed, but never destroyed. You are eternal."
The students exited and Frank and Cerise approached him.
"Can I help you?" He asked. Frank held out his hand.
"I'm Frank Black. This is my associate, Cerise Lutwidge. We're investigating a series of murders..."
"Oh I'm so sorry to hear that. I'm Garrett Vulkovic. How can I help?" He asked. He seemed genuinely concerned.
"Well, our killer seems to be intrigued with electricity."
"How so?"
"The bodies have electrical burn and a symbol. For Shakti. Energy." Cerise offered.
"How horrible. Did you know Nikola Tesla never wanted anyone to be hurt with electricity. He supported AC, refused to make a death ray, even projected energy safely without wires, through people. No one was harmed. He wanted everyone to know electricity was our friend, not a villain. I'm familiar with the symbol."
"It says here in the brochure he did make one." Cerise offered holding up the paper.
"He lied. That was the first of a series of towers in the energy broadcast array. It would have sent free electricity through the air to anyone who wanted it. SO, what do you need from me?"
"Is there anyone here you know of that makes you uncomfortable, suspicious..." Frank asked.
He thought for a moment. "Not really. We do get a lot more traffic these days, up from practically nothing. He's becoming more popular, people are starting to learn how amazing he was."
"How amazing?" Frank asked.
"Tesla wasn't just a genius he's a walking conspiracy theory. He invented a dozen things we still use today, from Tesla coils to alternating current. And lots of other things lost to history. His notes were confiscated within days of his death by the government. A lot of people think there's all kinds of stuff in there. Death rays, air ships… But the big one was free electricity. He actually could do that one. He was a mystic who believed in the transmogrification of the soul through energy. Some say he believed you could evolve beyond the physical using electricity."
"He sounds fascinating..." Frank offered, taking it in.
"Yeah, but if anyone was suspicious in here, it probably would have been him. He was weird." Garrett offered.
"How?"
"He was suspicious of women. He couldn't be around them if they were wearing jewelry and didn't really like to be in their presence. He also preferred the company of pigeons. There was a lot of stuff."
"Hum. Well, thank you for your time." Frank said, heavy in thought.
"If you're interested, he had a lab here in the Springs over on Gold Pass road. It's all residential now."
Frank glancesd at Cerise who nodded. "Thank you for your time."
"No problem."
They left the museum.
Outside, he paced. They had so quickly come to the museum. Would Garrett mention him?
It seemed like forever as he waited for the to leave. When they emerged into the daylight, he ducked behind a trashcan and waited until they were out of sight.
The prey was cagey. He had known they were dangerous, but not how dangerous. He had a new appreciation for them now.
He crossed the street, head down and entered the museum. He moved up behind Garrett as quietly a he could.
"I know you've been breaking in and using the equipment. You're going to kill yourself or damage something. I mean it, stay out." Garrett said without stirring or looking up. He'd never been able to sneak up on his brother.
"What did they want?" he asked. Garrett turned around to face him.
"You." Garret said. "Don't worry, I didn't tell them anything. You are my brother, after all. But you have to stop. You have to get help. You have to leave town..."
"I'm so close..."
"To what? Some fantasy? Killing prostitutes and skulking around in the night?"
"They aren't dead, they are in me… I'm changing, Garrett. Tesla was right, I can feel myself changing. I can hear the aliens in my head..."
Garret reached for him, grabbed him, pulled him close. "I love you little brother, but this has to stop. All the other stuff was odd, but ok, but killing people? If you don't go to the police, I have no choice."
"Would you turn me in?" He asked suddenly and leaned back to look at his brother.
"I'm worried about you. You're killing people! Don't you understand what that means?"
"I told you I'm not killing them. They are in me. I take their energy in me..."
"You're crazy… I'm sorry, but this isn't sane..." the emotion in Garrett's voice was almost solid. He fought with a tear.
"I thought you had vision." He said and he could feel the moment the taser went off, held it to his brother until the battery failed. He was proud of the taser, he'd built it himself to give off many times the amperage of a regular taser. Garrett had always had a weak heart.
He wept. He was so sorry his brother wouldn't be there to see the journey he was about to take.
He stood, went into the lab and began to turn on the machine.
"Did you feel like we were being lied to?" Frank asked.
"You could smell it. Guy was a horrible liar." She returned. "So, we pull around the corner and wait?"
He nodded and did just that.
It didn't take long for the man in the hoodie to cross the street and enter the Museum. He was furtive, hiding under the hoodie in the too warm afternoon. He looked behind himself a lot.
"Could it be that easy?" She asked. He shook his head, and got back out of the car.
She fell in behind him and they walked cautiously up the steps, and into the cool darkness of the museum. Lights from displays flashed all around them, the ozone again hit his nostrils like lemons on his tongue. And there on the floor, Garrett Vulkovic lay glaring at the ceiling through dead eyes.
Frank slipped his pistol out of his holster and led the way, if she had a weapon she didn't pull it.
The lab was alive with electricity, it coursed and bounced from Tesla coil to ground, and arched toward heaven. There in the middle was a non descript man with brown hair and eyes, arms outstretched like Odin in battle, hair standing up and his eyes glazed over.
He seemed in a trance, but finally, he looked at them and spoke, his eye lolling crazily in their sockets, him drooling as he spoke.
"You're here, but you brought the demon." He said.
Frank gave a quick flick of his eyes to Cerise who was smiling, admiration for this man radiating from her. Suddenly Frank felt very alone, and somewhat double crossed.
"Boy, you need to turn off the machines." She said and took a step toward him. In retaliation he dropped his hand on one of the devices and a fire bolt struck out at her. She moved with unreal quickness and just managed to get out of the way.
"Why did you want me here?" Frank asked calmly, trying another tact.
"You're going to help me transform." He offered.
"Into what?"
"Don't be dense. You know what's going on. That aura. So much energy. You can feel it, can't you? The whole thing falling into place. Something bad is coming, but he showed us the way, how to escape."
"Who did?"
"The Master. Tesla. He spoke to angels with his machines. He told us how to transcend. Tesla left the clues, you just need to follow them. Energy. Everything is made up of it. All you have to do it absorb enough and you can change, into something better, stronger. You can see him..."
"See who?" Frank asked. He looked around for an advantage he might use against this guy. He didn't want to kill him.
"Are you dense? Him. God. And your energy should be enough to change me. I just have to take it from you."
"Like you did from the women?"
"Their souls were weak but no one missed them. They were a good start, though."
"What's your name, son?" He asked. Build a rapport they told him in academy and so he would.
"Wyatt. Vulkovic."
"That's your brother in there..." Cerise offered. Wyatt cut his eyes to her and threw another bolt. She dodged behind a wall.
Frank took the moment to throw his gun at Wyatt, hitting him in the head and sending him reeling. He dashed over to the control board, it was complex but had a series of switches that he flipped and to his pleasure, the machine wound down. He took a deep breathe and then pain, and the sound of buzzing, the smell of burning flesh and all the strength left his body. He crumpled to the ground.
"Bastard!" Frank heard Cerise growl as he collapsed in a heap on the floor. A moment later, things went dark.
Frank woke up with Cerise over him.
"You gonna make it?" She asked.
"What did he hit me with?" He asked, parts of his body still numb, the rest yelling in pain. He tried to sit up, but not every muscle responded.
"Apparently some kind of souped up taser. He rifled your pockets, I hit him and he took off." She showed Frank her own fresh burn on the arm.
Something awoke at the back of Frank's brain. He reached in his pockets and…
"He took my wallet. I have to get home." He said and tried again to stand.
"Relax, you can call PD and have them send a car. The Group will send people, too, though I don't think I'd ask if I were you..."
"Why not?" He asked.
"Do you think they don't have a good idea what's going on before they send in new guys? They know exactly who I am and what I chase. They're testing you more then I ever did."
"So, who are you and what do you chase?" He asked.
"We can talk on the way." She helped him to his feet and half carried him out to the car.
He looked at the wallet and found an address. There were two credit cards, an ID card for The Millennium Group and a family photo. A beautiful wife and a daughter. Yes, that would do. Kids had more energy anyway. And would fight less then the old man.
He used the credit card to get a ticket and soon was on his way to Washington State.
"I got you on a flight for Colorado Springs at 4 this evening. I talked to local PD and they're working with your local PD to catch this guy. Someone has been sent to watch your family."
"Thanks. Now, what the hell is going on here. Who are you?" He demanded.
"I used to work for a telemarketing company. Mid-management, MBA. They said it was just a new system of paying employees. A little chip under the skin of your hand or forehead. I wasn't really a religious scholar back then..."
"Are you saying you took the mark of the beast?" He asked skeptically.
"I'm saying I'm damned, Frank. Do you get the implications of that? Soulless. I don't love. I don't care. Not that I ever did much of that before..."
"So why are you here. Why not go off and do your bosses bidding?"
"Because screw him. Aren't they supposed to have to tell you before they take your soul? It's crap, Frank. It's the worst thing, just… empty. And for a two percent raise. No, They don't get to do that. So I hunt their agents. My own little guerrilla war."
"You kill killers?"
"I kill pieces. For all he's insane, Wyatt is a piece. He's a pawn. Most killers are just killers, but Wyatt has a sponsor, someone who controls him. A little voice in his head and it seems to have gotten a good look at you. I asked for you, Frank, because I knew whatever is dominating Wyatt couldn't resist you. A knight, Frank. Better then a dozen pawns. Powerful, unpredictable… A lot of games are won with knights. No so many with pawns..."
"You used me as bait..." He growled.
"Yup, and if you had the strength, I'd be worried you might hit me or something. But we both know you don't."
"Not now, but I swear to you, I'll this isn't over."
"Not by a long shot." She said and pulled over to the side of the road. He looked out the window and realized they were in the prairie equivalent of nowhere. On either side was long grass and blue sky and not much else.
His body was still betraying him. He thought the electricity should have worn off by now. As if reading his mind, she leaned over and opened the door and spoke.
"God bless pharmaceuticals. I gave you a little drug made out of puffer fish toxic. Now, don't freak out on me, I just gave you a drop. In an hour of so, you'll be right as rain. I can't have you in the way. I need to destroy this piece and I missed my chance in the museum. Who knew he could throw lightening bolts. I mean, seriously, who can do that? But I know where he's heading. I give you my word, Frank, I won't let him hurt your family. But you'll owe me..."
She shoved him hard and he landed at the side of the dusty road.
"I an hour or so, when you can walk again, just go across that field and a half mile or so over there is the airport. I really did get you ticket. You'll be home by dark. I'll be done by then."
"Cerise, don't do this." He asked.
"Sorry Frank, did you miss the part of my speech where I told you I didn't have a soul? Yeah. So. See you later then?"
She closed the door and drove off. He tried to move his arm, but it was limp and numb. He cursed her and promised himself some kind of medieval vengeance. And waited.
"Hi, I'm a friend of Frank's. We were working together in the Springs." Cerise offered. She shook Catherine's hand. Obviously, the mother wasn't of any significance. But there, in the living room, sitting on the lap of a uniformed police officer was the daughter. Jordan. Cerise looked at her.
"The girl might be a Queen someday." She thought to herself. Catherine let Cerise into the house with the other officers.
"You with the Group?" Bletch asked and shook her hand. She nodded. "Well, we have three squad cars one in front of the house and one on each side street. I'm here and now you."
She nodded. "I think it looks good. Frank should be here soon, some trouble at the airport. I'm going to go check on the cars and give them a better description. I'll be back soon."
She left the house and started on the side streets. The sun was going down and she felt sure the killer would strike soon. He was close, she could feel him. No way he could resist the kid. She knocked out the cops in the first car the old fashioned way, sharp blows to the back of the head. Then she decided there was too much random chance to that and gave each of them a quick shot of pentobarbatol for good measure.
The next car she repeated the procedure. The cop in front of the house was the suspicious type. Finally, she punched him. It was cathartic.
Now, back in the house, the only problems left were Bletcher and the wife.
"So, everything alright?" He asked.
She nodded. "You heard from Frank?" She asked. He shook his head, but she knew he was lying. She always knew when people were lying.
Her pistol was across his face before she could stop herself and the darkness rose in her, something she so carefully kept locked away. She wanted his blood, all of them, bleeding on the floor at her feet.
She took a deep breath, and then another but it didn't help and so she went to the kitchen and took out a knife and drove it through her hand. It felt good and put the demon in her to sleep for a while.
Then, upstairs to find mommy and baby…
He began to crawl before he could walk across the field. It took the better part of forever, but half way across he was awake enough to stand and he could, indeed see the airport from where he was.
His left leg was not cooperating, it dragged in the dirt for a good quarter mile and then the feeling came back. He looked a frightful mess, but he was determined. He was a man with a cause. The rage and fear fueled him all the way across the plain.
He was walking mostly normally when he entered the airport, covered in dirt, burns on his back, and his shirt was torn. Someone from security walked up to him.
"Sir, can I help you?" He asked.
"I'm Frank Black with the Mill..."
"Oh, Mr. Black. Sir, are you alright? Should I call medical services?" The man responded.
"You know me?" He asked.
"No, we were told by our head of security that you'd be here and to assist getting you on your plane. Are you sure you're ok? I can get you a cart at least to take you to your concourse."
"That would be nice. When does the plane leave?"
"In about half an hour..."
"I need a phone." He said.
Cerise tied Bletch up and sat him on the couch. She was much stronger then she looked, one of the perks of being damned.
"Catherine?" She called up the stairs. No answer. She heard a stirring upstairs. He was here…
The house was huge and yellow and he hated it. But he could smell the girl inside, feel her power radiating, calling him. There were cops outside, lots of them.
On closer inspection, though, he could tell they were dead or unconscious. That meant the demon was here. He'd have to be even more careful.
Quietly he climbed the stairs onto the porch. Someone sitting on the couch. He picked up a pebble and threw it in. No response. He risked entering.
The man on the couch was bound and gagged. The demon was doing his work for him. Maybe he'd misjudged her. Maybe she was a friend.
"Looking for something?" He heard from behind him.
"What's your game, Demon?" He asked.
"I could ask you the very same thing. You should have let me kill you in Colorado. You'd have been able to be buried with your brother."
"I had to kill Garrett, he was going to turn me in and the work isn't finished..."
"I don't judge. I've killed a family member or two. It's the cost of doing business." She crossed to the couch and sat down.
"So, you're going to try to kill me?" He asked her. She shook her head.
"I am going to kill you. Nothing personal, you're just in my way."
"Maybe I'll kill you." he offered and pulled out his taser. It clicked and popped and he pointed it at her so she could see the sparks.
"Can't kill what's dead, kid." She pulled out a .45 and pointed it at him. "Besides, you brought a taser to a gunfight…"
Frank ran through the airport to the waiting police car. He leapt in and, sirens wailing, they pulled out and started to drive home.
"What's going on?" He demanded.
"No one's been able to reach any of the cars or Bletch. We got an all units on the way to your house and SWAT is mobilizing."
"My family..." He asked, his voice almost caved with emotion as he said the words.
"A unit that just made the scene said they think they saw movement in the one of the upstairs windows."
"Jordan's room. Get me there now." He ordered, riding adrenaline and unable to relax enough to sit fully in the seat.
"Yes Sir."
They held there, locked in a stalemate, her gun trained on him. His mind raced as he tried to find a way out of the situation. One more kill was all he needed, so close and she was in his way. Fury overwhelmed him and, on impulse he leapt backwards and dove for the stairs.
"It's going to be ok, baby, Just be quiet." Catherine held Jordan and tried to keep her quiet. Next to them the dog lay, watching the door with it's utmost vigilance. Benny seemed to understand the need for silence, he didn't bark or whimper, just watched the door as if it would spring to life and attack.
"Is Daddy coming home?" Jordan asked.
"He's on his way." Catherine whispered with a shushing sound.
"Will he get the bad guy when he does?" She asked.
"Of course he will, sweetie. You have to be quiet now."
There was a noise on the stair and Catherine jumped as Jordan let out a whine. Benny leapt up and was on guard, growling in a low, menacing tone that scared her almost as much as the monster in her home.
After breathless moments the door flew open and there was a man there she'd never seen before. He had a taser in his hand and a wild look about him. Benny lunged forward and sank his teeth into the man, causing him to scream. Down came the taser and the dog yelped and fell convulsing to the floor.
Jordan jumped up and pulled out of her mother's arms before Catherine could even react. She fell to the dog's side and the man in the doorway reached out and grabbed her. And then he was gone, out the door.
Catherine screamed and pursued.
He hit the bottom stair with Jordan in his arms, he could feel her aura pulsing, she was so powerful and he almost killed her there, but a quick look around told him the demon wasn't where he left her.
As he'd moved toward the stairs he'd thrown a vase at the demon and caught it in the head, making it fall to the floor.
Now it was gone.
"Where are you?" He called.
"Here." He heard and he turned, she was standing there, blood running down her face. She licked some of it off her lip and smiled.
Before he realized it, she'd taken the girl. The demon shoved the gun in her face.
"Jordan. I want you to do exactly as I tell you. I want you to walk to the couch and hid behind it. No matter what you hear, don't look up. Pretend you're playing hide and seek and count to a hundred for me, will you?"
Obediently Jordan went behind the couch.
"One, two, three..." Her childish voice intoned. Upstairs Catherine rattled down the hall at full speed, tripped down the stairs and landed, on her feet but with no grace, at the bottom of the steps.
"Cover your eyes." Cerise said.
"I..."
"Now, Catherine."
She didn't know why, but Catherine did as she was told.
A moment later, she heard a horrible noise, but she kept her eyes shut a tightly as she could.
Cerise grabbed Wyatt by the collar and pulled him close.
"Shoot me." He hissed at her.
"Not how the ritual goes, dumbass." She pulled out a large ceremonial dagger.
"Back whence ye came." She whispered and in one deft movement cut his throat from ear to ear. He fell, gagging but as his life blood ran out onto the floor, another sound began. At first it was small and quiet, just on the range of detection, but then, it grew louder and louder until it was the shriek of a banshee, the sound of heartbreak, a piercing wail of judgment.
And then it fell silent.
Frank jumped out of the police car and dodging officers and SWAT teams, he made it up the steps of his house. Every police officer was covering their ears and he could detect a hint of some sound just dying on the wind.
In the foyer he saw Catherine, her eyes closed, her ears covered and tears marring that perfect face. Wyatt was on the floor, bleeding out and over him stood Cerise.
Frank grabbed his hysterical wife and glared at Cerise.
"Where is my daughter?" He demanded.
"96, 97, 98, 99, 100. Can I come out now?" She called. She was calm and clearly unscathed.
"Your daddy will come for you. Keep your eyes closed and he'll take you outside to see the policemen." Cerise offered, casual, as if there wasn't a serial killer bleeding out on the floor, as if his house had not been defiled, as if there wasn't a member of the damned standing there with some big, wicked knife…
She motioned him with her head and took a throw off the couch and covered the body. She watched him blandly as he took his family out of the big yellow house and into the yard.
Catherine was in the back of a squad car. One of the officers was letting Jordan play with the light.
The body was rolled out on a stretcher wrapped mercifully in a white sheet and a body bag. Peter pulled up but Frank was focused on the door, waiting for her to emerge.
She did, looking pleased with herself. She was making a statement to a cop, Bletcher was giving her a violent eye. Frank felt sure, though, no one had jurisdiction over this woman. She'd walk away from it with not even a slap on the wrist.
She disengaged from the officer and walked over to him.
"You wanted to see me?" She began.
"Don't ever talk to me again. Stay away from my family..."
"You're welcome." She replied. He resisted the urge to choke her.
"I mean it. If I ever see you again I'll..."
"What Frank? You'll what? Kill me? Even if you could, you're too much of a goodie goodie. Hurt me? No, Frank, next time you see me you'll growl and complain and pray to God I'm on your side. I saved your family. Hell, I even made sure the emotional scarring was minimal..."
"Which I could have done if you hadn't shoved me out of a car..."
"No, you couldn't have. You don't even know what it was..."
"Don't give me your mumbo jumbo..."
She grabbed Frank's shoulder with more strength then he would have imagined her having. She pushed him to the stretcher and reached in and pulled out Wyatt's hand.
"And the smoke of their torment ascendeth up for ever and ever: and they have no rest day nor night, who worship the beast and his image, and whosoever receiveth the mark of his name."
With her nail she scratched along the surface of the top of his hand. Something moved their. Something long and hard. She took out a pen knife and cut it out. It was an RF chip.
"We are the damned, Frank. We fight our own wars. You're one of the good guys. You don't even know what you're dealing with. Yet."
She said and walked toward the street. She turned back and looked at him for a minute,
"Oh," She said. "And you owe me..."And she turned and walked away down the street.
He'd see her again. He knew it. Peter was there then to debrief him, and he resist the urge to punch him in the mouth…
It was over. Only something told him it was just beginning,