Chapter Seven
Angela slipped and fell a few feet, cursing as the rope burned her hand even through the glove she wore. "Shit!" She swore, planting her feet against the wall. With a good ten feet of space between her and the floor, she felt a little nervous. She was okay with heights, but was finding that she had a healthy respect for them. After a week of training, she was finally starting to get the hang of climbing. She had to admit that it looked much easier than it was.
Solitaire stood below her, anchoring the rope that had stopped Angela's fall. The younger woman was frowning, one hand raised to her face to block the weak sunlight. She wore similar clothes to Angela, a navy vest top under a lighter blue half zip fleece, combined with dark grey trousers. The building that they were using to practice on was cracked and sagging, hidden away in a corner lot. John stood next to Solitaire, eyes scanning the street for any sign of trouble. So far, the day had been quiet.
"You're okay. Start moving up again. Right hand out and up, feel for the finger holds before moving your feet." The younger woman coached.
"Easy for you to say." Angela grumbled, but started moving, finding the next hand hold easily and pulling herself up. Her muscles burned with the exertion, but she didn't have time to stop and rest. The next rainfall was due in less than a week. She had to be ready by then. Reaching a window, she pulled herself up into it, sitting on the wide ledge. Her hands were sore and she laid them on the cool stone, easing the sting of many new blisters.
The sky was growing dark and a chill had started in the air. Solitaire called up to Angela "We might as well call it a night. Come on down." She shoved a strand of dark blonde hair out of her face, tucking it behind her ear.
Angela made sure that the rope was secure before swinging back over the edge of the window ledge. She abseiled easily down the building, landing gently on the floor. Working quickly, the collected in the ropes and other equipment, stowing it in large canvas bags. Solitaire swung one over her shoulder easily, leading the way back to her apartment. She was tense, back stiff as she walked. Her right had never strayed too far from her side, where a matt black handgun was holstered to the side of her thigh.
The small group walked silently through the gathering dusk. All three of them were tense, waiting for an attack that never came. They made it back to the apartment easily. Solitaire let out a sigh of relief when the heavy door closed and was locked securely behind them. She had taken it upon herself to be the protector of the group and John had to admit that she was doing a very good job of it.
Stripping off the fleece top she wore, and un-buckling her gun belt, she stowed the climbing supplies. John and Angela stood back, keeping out of the way as best they could in the small space.
"So what do you think?" Angela broke the silence in the room.
"About your climbing?" Solitaire asked, closing the cupboard door.
"Yes. How am I doing?"
"You've learned a hell of a lot in a short space of time." Solitaire said, and Angela wasn't sure if it was a complement or not. "I think you'll be ready by the rainfall." The blonde continued.
Angela shot an anxious glance at John. He hadn't stopped pacing since entering the apartment. "That's good right?" She asked anxiously.
"Hell, yeah it's good." Solitaire said. Smiling, she did a rare thing and reached out to pat Angela on the shoulder.
John threw himself into a chair, sending a cloud of dust into the room. Angela coughed while Solitaire glared at him with annoyance.
"Hey, it's not much, but while you're here, treat it with respect, okay?" She snapped at him.
He had been moody and out of sorts for days not and neither woman could figure out what was wrong with him. When asked, he simply grunted in reply. They had taken to leaving him alone. Whatever was bothering him would come out in the end. Angela feared that he was worrying about the attack, and did her best to assure him that they were all ready.
In an instant, he was out of the chair and had pinned Solitaire against the wall by her throat. She met his eyes, her own grey eyes never wavering, even as his grip tightened around her slender neck. Blotches of colour appeared on her cheeks, and against her will, her hands came up to her neck to grab John's. His grip was like tempered steel. There wasn't an ounce of give in his hand. She dug her nails into his skin, trying to break free. He lifted his hand, forcing her onto her tip toes. She had no leverage for a good hit.
Angela kept back, wanting to help the girl, but not knowing how. She didn't want to make a wrong move that might kill them both.
"John…" She said, trying to get through to him. "Let her go."
There was a loaded gun on the coffee table and she moved towards in gradually. He sensed or saw her movement. She froze, hating that the man she loved had turned into a monster. Without taking his eyes off Solitaire, he lashed out with his other hand, catching Angela on the temple. She dropped to the floor, stunned. Pain radiated from that one spot like heat from a fire. Blood coloured her vision and she was too dizzy to move. "You bastard…" She heard herself mutter faintly as the room turned into a swirl of darkness around her.
The younger woman was beginning to choke, and clawed at John's hand, trying to pry his fingers off her neck. He had moved his hand lower again, and she had both feet firmly on the floor. He wouldn't let go, and gathering the last of her strength, she kneed him hard in the groin. He groaned in pain as she connected. His grip loosened, and she dragged in a harsh, choking breath. Her lungs ached for air, but she was coughing too much to inhale. John lunged for her throat again, and she had no choice but to knock him out with a well placed elbow to his face. He went down like a sack of bricks.
She bent over, finally getting in enough air. Legs weak and trembling, she let herself drop to the floor next to Angela, who was just coming around.
"What the hell was that?" Solitaire panted. Finding her balance, she got back to her feet, trying John securely with a good length of climbing rope. There was no way he would break out of that. Picking up the first aid kit, she sat next to Angela again, pulling out a gauze pad for the small wound on her head. Solitaire dabbed at the wound, finding that it wasn't too bad. She stuck a dressing over it, and helped Angela to sit up.
"You okay?" They both asked at the same time and half smiled.
"I'm okay." Solitaire said. "How about you?"
"Hell of a headache." Angela admitted. She scanned the younger woman, gaze settling on the deep purple finger marks.
"What's wrong?" Solitaire asked. Adrenaline still buzzed through her veins. She felt twitchy, needing to move.
"Your neck…" Angela gasped. She could hardly believe that John had made those marks.
"It's nothing." Solitaire said, knowing that there would be some spectacular bruises. She swallowed, finding her throat to be sore and stiff. "I'm fine." She said, hoping to ease Angela's guilt.
"The hell it's nothing. You need ice for that." Angela said, standing and heading into the kitchen. She came back a few minutes later with a dish towel wrapped around a bag of crushed ice.
Solitaire took it, holding it to her neck with a little hiss of pain. Her neck did hurt. "Thank you." She said, avoiding Angela's gaze.
Behind them, John was just coming around. He muttered in a language that neither of them knew. When he called out, it was for Angela. She felt tears spring to her eyes, and her hand rose to her mouth.
"John…" She said softly, wanting to go to her. Solitaire had risen to stand beside her and held her back.
"Don't. It could be a trick." She warned softly.
"What do you mean?" Angela demanded.
"He's possessed." Solitaire said simply.
"How do you know?" Angela whispered wretchedly, "How can you know?" She wanted to sob, to scream about the unfairness of it, but her emotions were coiled into a rock hard ball somewhere by her stomach. She couldn't make a sound.
"I saw his face. I saw his eyes." Solitaire said. "I'm sorry." She offered sincerely.
"So what do we do?" Angela asked.
Solitaire replied like it was the most obvious thing in the world. "We have to perform an exorcism, of course."
"Jesus." Angela said.
"That's right, you should prey to him." Solitaire said darkly. "We might need his help yet."
Behind them, John screamed out his torment.