A/N: I hope some of you out there are still reading and enjoying it. I'd be so happy if some of you would share their thoughts about this fiction with me. Via reviews or PM. Every small response feeds the muse. Okay enough begging for a livesign of my readers.
Thanks to Churchlady63's help, the story is finished until ch 11 by now. I plan to let the first part of this trilogie end somewhere there or in the 12th chapter. Then head to the next part which will play a bit later (maybe a year).
Now have fun with the storyflow.
Chapter 6 - In Chains
WADE
Somewhere between Philadelphia and Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania,
28th of May 1813
Bastian had fallen asleep nearly an hour ago while George was immersed in the spell book he had gotten from his mother's coven. Wade was restless. He had cleaned his weapons, had prepared for the coming fight, and even had once again recited the exorcism Thomas had made them memorize. He was prepared, he should be able to relax but he felt like his right hand was missing. Mike was usually at his side. It felt totally wrong not having him with them. Rutherford had assured Wade that Mike would have no problems with the hunt he had sent him on. Though Wade knew his friend was perfectly capable of killing a vampire alone, it didn't calm him in any way that Mike was alone out there. Frustrated, he began sharpening his blade again.
The repeated noise soon caused George to peek over the edge of the tome, to shoot his friend a stern look. With a calmness that didn't lack of annoyance, he said, "I think your blade is sharp enough."
Wade stopped his motion. "Sorry," putting the sharpening stone away, he gave George a rueful gaze.
"Did you know how much a demon trap gains power when you add blood to the ink? This is fascinating," George looked up at Wade.
Wade leaned forward, propping his elbows on his knees, "Is that what you've been studying in your fancy spellbook for the whole ride?"
"Indeed, my friend. What is wrong with you?"
"It's wrong that we're not all four together on this hunt."
"You're talking about Mike?"
"Of course, I am. I want him to have my back. Nothing against you two…," Wade said with a twinkle "... but Mike and I are a trained unit. We are like two sides of the same blade."
"Yeah and that's the point. Rutherford wanted us to be able to work in unusual situations or constellations. He needs to know if you are able to lead without Mike. I mean you two were never separated on a hunt. This is your baptism of fire - for both of you. Don't worry about him."
Wade slumped back to the hard seat of the carriage, sighing, "I know. But that doesn't mean I have to like it."
"Mike is no baby. He is capable; you both are. Have a bit of trust in him."
"Yeah, you saw where that got me the last time. I'm caught in the middle at home."
"This was different. Love is different."
Wade just let out a weird laugh. "Yeah, definitely," Wade turned his head and stared out of the window. He tried to think about something other than Mike away from them and found his mind drifting off to Clara Rutherford. A smile rushed over his lips when he thought of her. They had talked long after dinner. And Wade had to admit, he was never impressed like that by a girl. She didn't talk about the latest style of Paris or her embroidery. She knew about the Brotherhood and about politics and they had ended up discussing both their points of view on the topics. Wade had many affairs over the last few years. He never pushed a girl from his bedside. But none had ever only come close to the feeling Clara left him with. A challenge and yet like a missing part of his heart. She had come to the barn to say goodbye this morning. He couldn't go without at least touching the porcelain skin of her cheeks. She had smiled a bit, blushing at the intimate gesture. She was so beautiful. The long glance they had given each other must lead to a kiss.
George ripped him out of his daydream. "Hey, I know this look. I saw it with Mike recently. Don't tell me there is a girl who has twisted your head too."
Wade stayed silent.
George raised a brow. "Wade, you have to be at the top of your game on this hunt. Whoever she is. Forget about her, forget about Campbell and your sister until this is over. I don't want to end up as a Demon vessel. I failed to talk to Mike then. I will not make the same mistake twice. Okay? Talk to me. Who is she? We have the time now."
"George… it's nothing serious. Don't worry."
"Let me think, there were some sweet girls in the kitchen but they were not your type. Then there was Rutherford's niece Lotta. She was funny but that shrill voice - oh goodness, no; I know you. You like the challenge. The only other option was Clara. Don't tell me it is the Guardian's daughter?"
"As I said, it's nothing to worry about. We just kissed in the barn. It's not as if I bedded her at a coven festival as Mike had done with Diana." Wade got angry over the thought. He was sure he would forgive Mike sometime in the future but not too quickly, and yet he had a really bad feeling for separating from his Brother in strife. "For God's sake! Why did they betray my trust like this? Damn!" Wade angrily slammed his fist at the lined inside of the carriage door.
"Woah, easy my friend. We all agree it was absolutely bad timing on their part. Did you talk to Mike?"
Wade sighed, frustrated now. "Well, we did but ended up in a quarrel. Now I'm feeling bad that he is not here but in the middle of this stupid war. We shouldn't have separated like that."
"So now we're coming to the main problem. But there is no other option yet but to wait until he is back."
"I know. I can't explain it but I have a bad feeling."
George looked at him for a moment, then reached for Wade's arm.
"Hey, what are you doing?"
"Just trust me," George began to draw a five-pointed star to the inside of Wade's lower arm. "I found this sign of protection in the fancy spellbook. Maybe it'll help you to calm down a bit. At least it will protect you from demon possession."
Wade let him draw, wishing Mike every way of protection he could get.
*** EST ***
MIKE
He felt freezing cold and hot all at once. They had tied him to that tree without his clothes, only in his wet trousers. His leg hurt so horribly that Mike didn't dare to move an inch. Maybe he already had developed a slight fever, he was not quite sure.
Someone approached him and kneeled down next to him. "Hey, time for questioning and answering again. Man, I don't wanna switch positions with you, Yankee Boy. We're all in rage at the Americans. I'd better tell Black what he wants to know. Now, up to your feet."
Mike was yanked up from the ground. Miserable as he was, he tried to stand but his leg gave way under his weight and he crashed down to the grass again with a suppressed scream.
"Gerry. Come over and help me move our guest to Black. I think he has a broken leg."
They dragged his battered body to the stone house again. Mike could get a glimpse of the tent camp. They were on a shore, he assumed Lake Ontario. Mike wasn't able to spy out more. His vision blurred in front of him.
The next thing he registered was that they bound his cuffed hands behind a chair this time.
He was so glad to have his weight off his leg. It almost felt like a relief to sit if not for his butt hurting like hell. Not even his father had ever hit him so bad that he had not been able to sit.
A groaned cry escaped his mouth. Mike could tell by the sound of boots on the stone floor that Black had entered the house.
His English accent was unmistakable." Good morning, let's see if we will be able to get something more from you than Gaelic swearing, my Scottish friend."
Mike tried to prepare for more pain though he had no idea how he could take more of the beating of yesterday. He already felt like throwing up and they hadn't even started yet.
Black began to walk around him, inspecting the damage from last night. "I've heard I broke your leg," he finally said. The man squatted next to him, brushing over his hurt shin. The touch was gentle at first but already caused a pain that made him sick to his stomach. Then Black clawed his hand around Mike's lower leg.
A firework of pain exploded in Mike's leg and spread through his body. He screamed desperately in his agony. Black stopped and retreated, waiting until Mike stopped crying out loud. He gasped for air and was sure he would not make it through this round without telling Black just everything the man wanted to know.
"Well I think you will be a bit more obedient today, don't you think so?"
Mike only managed a grunt.
"Let's start with your name, soldier."
Mike moved his head slightly. He had to survive this. Secrecy be damned. No information he had was worth suffering this amount of pain or even dying for. He answered, "Campbell."
Black made a winking motion for someone else in the room, maybe a writer, Mike didn't care. "Your rank, Campbell."
"Private Mike Campbell," he obediently answered this time.
So, why have you sneaked into our camp, Private Campbell?"
How should he answer this without sounding like he was crazy? He'd stick to the main events and keep the supernatural out as long as possible. "I was accused of killing a Lieutenant."
Black let out a small laugh. "And did you?"
Mike was in a predicament now. If he'd say 'yes' he was a murderer and they could hang him for killing an officer even if it was an enemy. If he'd say no, how should he explain why they thought he had?
Black got impatient, he stepped closer and backhanded Mike hard. He coughed and spat out blood. The coppery taste twisted his guts. It was so hard to concentrate.
"Answer the question," Black shouted at him.
Mike swallowed the blood down. "He was not human … a … monster…"
"Hm hm hm…, " Black laughed silently. "We can be all monsters from time to time. So you killed an officer. Is that correct?"
Mike was quick to erase this misinformation though in general, it was the truth. "No! He was a vampire, he had already killed five men - six - and tried to kill me too. I had to stop him."
It got deathly silent in the room. Black began to speak shortly after. "A Vampire? So what are you, a vampire hunter?"
Mike got desperate. He heard the mockery in Black's voice. He gathered his strength, looking up at the man. The only chance they would not kill him was to convince them that he spoke the truth. "Yes. He bit me. Look at the wound on my neck and you will believe me."
The two men locked eyes. Black was considering it. This was the best Mike could hope for. Black reached for the dirty bandage at his neck and ripped it off roughly.
The bite had crusted already and stuck to the bandage. It began bleeding again with the ripping off.
Black only reacted with a thoughtful "Hm." He started circling Mike again.
Mike felt the bile creeping up his throat at that moment. He couldn't hold back and vomited to the ground between his bare feet.
Black's voice came from the back. "Privates, take him back."
Hands fumbled with his bindings and grabbed him again. Mike grunt out, feeling like he was not finished throwing up.
Black stopped them, "Wait, let him be here. Call for Doctor Hamsworth. Maybe he has something contagious. We can not risk a disease weakening our troops, we had enough losses at Fort George."
Mike heard two salutes and clapped pairs of boots, "Yes, sir."
Black came closer again, whispering this time. "You're lucky I'm prone to believe you, hunter. And if not that one of you had saved my little sister from one of these monsters, you can bet I would let you be hanged from one of the many trees at the shore for your army to find you. But as it is, I have an old debt to pay, and as the hunter who saved us then is dead, it's your lucky day. I will repay you instead. I offer you to be a prisoner of the Royal Army. I'm not sure if this is better than death but I'll let you decide. Prisoner or hanging?"
Mike couldn't believe it! God hadn't left his side. What a coincidence this was, he had apparently stumbled upon the only one in the royal army who knew about the supernatural? Every other man here would have let him hang for what he had done. At least how it looked like what he had done. Black waited for an answer. It was not hard to choose from. He wanted to see Diana again even if it took him ages. He wanted to see his Brothers again. He couldn't leave Wade unprotected on hunts. He needed to live at all costs for his friends and family. Mike choked out his decision, "Prisoner."
"Seems you have something to live for. Well so be it. Thank me later, Campbell." Black left but stopped in the doorway, silently whispering something to someone.
Then the door was closed. There were other steps in the room. Mike was barely able to keep conscious. "Bring him over to the cot, please."
The hands were back and dragged him to a nearby cot. For a moment it felt so good to lie on his side. Then he began to shiver again.
Comforting warm, firm hands felt for his forehead. "Hello, my boy. I'm doctor Hamsworth. Let me check on you, son. Sergeant Black said you have a broken leg and a neck wound? Do you have an idea why you feel sick to your stomach?"
So many questions. Mike had already forgotten the first one. "Felt sick the whole night. Fever," Mike pressed out between trembling lips.
"Were these wet trousers all you had on you all night?" the doctor asked.
Mike nodded, fiercely trembling. The doctor rummaged for something, maybe in his bag. Then Mike heard fabric being cut off. He felt so powerless and embarrassed, lying naked and vulnerable on the cot, unable to do anything.
"It's okay. I'll check on your leg first," the doctor announced.
An itchy blanket was spread over him, bringing comforting warmth to his naked body. The doctor lifted his cover and examined the leg. It hurt beyond belief and caused Mike to cry out. "Stop, please! It makes me feel sick."
"The bone has to be set straight or you will limp for the rest of your life. I'm sorry boy, but this will hurt."
Mike just nodded. He was well aware that he wouldn't have gotten any kind of treatment if not Black had ordered it. He had to be grateful to the doctor. There were probably enough soldiers of the British out there who needed the man's care too.
His body had to heal or he would not be able to be a hunter anymore. He needed to be a hunter almost as much as he needed to be with Diana.
It needed the two privates to hold him still while the doctor set the bone correctly. Mike had never felt so much pain.
Finally it was over and he was left exhausted and shivering. The doctor attached a splint to steady the bone and bandaged it. Mike just wanted them all to leave him alone but the doctor was far from done.
"Easy, son. The rest won't hurt that bad. You will be glad for the treatment once you are where they will take you. Let me see this neck wound," the doctor didn't wait for an answer, pushing his chin up. "How did this happen? It looks like an animal bite? Let's hope it will not get infected."
Mike didn't answer the question. He couldn't concentrate and even had no explanation the doctor would have been pleased with. So he stayed silent letting the man work.
Dr. Hamsworth applied a wet cloth, smelling a lot like the tincture George used. It burned like hell fire but Mike had not even the power to hiss.
*** EST ***
MIKE
He must have lost consciousness at some point of the doctor's treatment because he woke in one of the army tents. The white linen above him looked like the clouded sky. He could tell it was day.
Carefully turning his head he inspected the tent. There was not much. Another cot, a chest and a rack for clothes. A small table with paper, a quill and a tin of ink. Shoved under it a small stool. It was an officer's tent, Mike was sure. The lower ranks usually shared a tent with four or six men.
He became aware that they had dressed him in a pair of pants and a linen shirt. Even a pair of socks were on his feet. He didn't feel hot or cold like he had felt last night. But the movement of his head caused some kind of dizziness. He continued staring at the tarp above him, trying to take a deep breath. He was rewarded with a stinging pain in his chest. He had forgotten that he had a broken rib. Mike wished he was with his Brothers. He had been hurt before but never was in the enemy's hands like this. He still had a good chance to die here or in prison or wherever they planned to bring him. Mike tried to remember if he had ever heard of prisoners in Canada, but nothing came to mind. He wouldn't have the chance to escape for the next few weeks anyway. First of all he had to live long enough for his leg to heal.
Mike felt a slightly throbbing pain from his neck. He tried to lift his hand and found both bound together but nothing more to keep him here. Carefully he touched the bandaged bite. It caused instant dizziness. Hissing, he took his hands away.
He got desperate. Why hadn't he listened to Diana. They should have run away and none of this would have happened. They could have taken a ship to Scotland after these stupid sea-blockades were over and live with his family. Or even settle down somewhere at the western borderland of the new territories. But no, his stupid pride had made him wanting to gain Diana the honorable way, to want Henry to accept him - to see him worthy for his daughter. Fuck! He was an idiot! Maybe Diana was better off without him.
His breath became shaky, his chin began to tremble with desperation. He wanted to weep like a baby. But men didn't do that, right? They never show any weakness, especially not in a situation like this - captured, injured, exhausted, and desperately in love. "Fuck, Campbell," he wispered to himself, "You have to keep it together!"
The tarp was folded away and Black appeared in the entrance. He glanced at Mike, seeing him awake. "You woke," was all he said to Mike. The sergeant walked over to the small table and opened the only drawer of the little furniture. "Tell me about this ring, Campbell."
Mike felt the color vanished from his face. He quickly checked his hand. The asshole had taken his hunter's ring.
"Hm, I see this little silver band means something to you. Is there a Mrs. Campbell waiting for you? Kids maybe? Or has this little band something to do with this hunting thing? The man I told you about had a similar one, you know?" Black came closer with the small stool, taking a seat next to him. "Well, we already had an agreement that you will tell me what I wanted to know, or do I have to bring you back to the stone house?"
"No!" Mike was quick to answer. He didn't want to be taken there again.
Black smiled devious. "Good, then answer the question. We are in private here. This is my tent, so no one will disturb us. And let's be honest, you will not run away in your state."
*** EST ***
Mike hadn't had any strength left, so alone, desperate, and unable to fight or even run. He wondered a bit about his obedience but just answered any question he had been asked.
In the end he had told Black about the Brotherhood, that they hunted monsters, not only vampires, and that their rings were their sign to be a member of the Brotherhood. He even told him that their leader was Thomas Rutherford. This had been the point where Mike knew something was totally off with him. He would never have given anyone the name of their Guardian. This was indeed a piece of information he considered dying for. And yet he had just told Black everything. There must be a reason but his brain felt so foggy he just couldn't wrap his mind around the answer to this. Subconsciously he touched the bite wound again, triggering a shiver and a strange kind of weakness running through his body.
A thought brushed his mind. It had something to do with the bite. Mike tried desperately to remember what he knew about vampire bites but he just couldn't concentrate. There was something about the vampire poison that made the victims not fighting off the vampire. Maybe he still felt the aftereffect.
*** EST ***
Two nights later, the doctor had been there when he was able to sit and hadn't any signs of fever anymore. He'd seen no men other than Black and the doctor since he had woken in the officer's tent. He wondered about that, but realized he could have ended up somewhere much worse. He would take every bit of recovery he could get. Black was surprisingly caring since he had found out Mike was a hunter. Though not friendly at all, he made sure Mike ate and had dry clothes and a blanket and was left alone by other British soldiers.
On this day the tarp was pushed back by the two privates he already knew. One of them pushed a makeshift crutch into his hands. "Up with you. You'll be brought to the prison now."
Mike swallowed hard, he took the crutch and got up, bringing his weight to his uninjured leg. They guided him outside.
Mike felt the cold chill of wind through the shirt he wore. He wished he had a jacket. Suddenly he remembered that his coin had been in his jacket. He cursed innerly but now it was too late to be sorry. He would be lucky to survive this. Why worry about a token when he should be grateful to be alive?
He was brought to a few wagons, ready to leave. They helped him climb on one of them. The soldiers who sat in the wagon shot him angry glares. They were all injured more or less, one of them had lost his arm. But none of them spoke a single word to him. He had not even shackles on his wrists anymore. What for, he was not able to run away and in this state he was not even a threat to the wounded. He heard the men speak of a retreat to Burlington Heights. Mike knew it was somewhere at the westend of Lake Ontario. If they would keep him there, he had no idea. For the moment he was just glad to rest. The convoy with the whole two regiments who had been in Fort George marched westwards. Soon he fell into a kind of slumber by the rocking motion of the wagon.
*** EST ***
WADE
It took them four days to arrive in Pittsburgh. They stopped for the nights in a few hostels. Chip, the fourteen-year-old boy who usually was the driver for Thomas, was sent with them to care for their traveling. The area around was known by hunters for its vampire nests. Should some cross their way, the three were prepared. But their target was something more dangerous - a group of demons.
The intel they had was not much. A priest had written to the Guardian and asked for help. He had two parishioners who had just vanished and were found a week later all crazy. It was suspected that they were possessed by demons. They bound them down and the priest started an exorcism. It hurt them but they ripped free, killing three of the men around, and vanished into black smoke, before he had finished the verse.
He turned to the Brotherhood for help to find them, fearing that they might have invaded others in his community and for that he feared for their safety.
Of course, they had to be some low-level demons. Otherwise, the people would have had no chance to bind them down. Wade had seen demons more powerful than could be held back with a rope and a cross.
Rutherford had prepared them well. They knew how to draw a devil's trap, they knew their exorcisms and they knew how to fight against an inhumanly strong enemy.
They had told Chip to stay at the hostel, the boy would wait for them until they were done with the jobs. Taking their horses with them they started to explore the city.
The church was a nice building, well taken care of and Bastian already studied the construction.
"I'll talk to the Priest." Wade headed to the entrance door and entered.
Once more he hated to investigate without Mike. He glanced at the candles which were burning near the entrance. Each light stood for someone who was missed by his beloved or dead and in good memory. Wade swallowed, Mike wasn't dead, he told himself.
Bastian approached him. "Shall we light one for Mike, wherever he is, a prayer is never wasted," his friend suggested, knowing what Wade had thought.
Wade nodded and they sent both their prayers for safety to the lord in silence. After that, they turned to the altar richly decorated with flowers and candles where a large silver cross stood in the middle.
A man entered through the side door, looking at them with a smile. "Good evening, Gentlemen, I'm Pastor Gable. Can I help you?"
George was already heading to the man and Wade left it to him to introduce them. "Hello, Pastor Gable. We're sent by Thomas Rutherford. You asked for his help."
Wade approached the two speaking men.
"Ah, you are Thomas' men. I see. Good that you're finally here. You must be exhausted from the long ride." Gable turned to Wade and Bastian who had joined the others.
"I'm Wade Wilmington," he reached out to offer the man a hand. Bastian did the same.
After they all were introduced to each other, Pastor Gable said, "Now we'll speak in my home and we'll have something to drink. It offers more privacy." The man made an inviting gesture to the side door he had entered through.
They followed him through a hallway that led to his home which was a backhouse next to the church.
The pastor led them to a kind of small living room with a table and four chairs. "I'll prepare the coffee, feel at home," he said before turning to an adjoining room.
Wade inspected the room. It was sparsely furnished. There was a cabinet with various pieces of dishes and a bookshelf, a fireplace, and a chest for firewood. He sighed, "God, I hope we find the possessed quickly. Do you think we have to visit all his parishioners? The town has a lot of glass works. There must be a lot of people working in them."
Bastian searched for something in the inside pocket of his coat while telling him details about Pittsburgh. "In fact, the local government has about 7000 inhabitants if I recall the information of the last census three years ago right. It has a blooming glass, brass, tin, and ironing industry. I read an article about an inventor who works in steamboat manufacturing. Of course, the cut off from the supply of British goods was a hit. But they could grow to a manufacturing center with the raw materials around. I mean with three rivers to trade on it has a perfect location."
Wade exchanged a look with George and smirked over Bastian's amount of information about Pittsburgh. Usually, Mike would have already teased him for it. Once again he missed Mike at his side.
The pastor came back into the room balancing a tray with four different-looking cups and a coffee pot in a fifths design. "So here we go." he placed the tray in the middle of the table and placed a cup in front of each of them with shaky hands.
Bastian got up, "Let me help you, Pastor Gable." He took the pot from the tray and filled each cup with hot steaming dark liquid.
The pastor nodded and turned to the kitchen again. "I have some cake too, one moment, please." He vanished back to the small room.
Bastian quickly uncorked a vial and added Holy Water to the pastor's cup.
Wade shot him a questioning look.
Bastian shrugged his shoulders. "Just in case. Have you forgotten everything Thomas taught us?"
Wade shook his head, "He is a friend of The Guardian."
George grinned at Wade. "What do you say all the time, 'You never know'?"
Wade raised his hand defeatedly just when the pastor came back with a plate with some slices of a sandy cake.
The coffee smelled wonderful and tasted even better. The pastor began telling them what had happened, it was nothing they didn't already know, then Wade blacked out.
*** EST ***
BASTIAN
Bastian woke with an evil headache. Groaning, he checked his surroundings only to find out he was chained on his feet and hands but was able to move a bit. What had happened? The last thing he remembered was they were in Pastor Gable's home and drank coffee. He glanced to his right. The unmoving shapes of Wade and George were next to him. The chain connected to his feet was a long one that led through the shackles of two more pairs of feet - Wade's and George's, and was fixed in the stone wall. He reached for Wade. His fingers felt numb as he reached for his friend. "Wade." Bastian shook him.
Wade began moving. He rolled over to Bastian. Opening his eyes, Wade gave him a disoriented look. "What happened, Bastian? Where are we?"
"I don't know. But I think this hunt isn't turning out as we had planned."
Wade checked his sides, finding himself in chains too. Then the inside of his jacket. "My weapons are gone. Yours too?"
Bastian checked his pockets. They were without any content. Even the vial with his holy water was gone. He felt naked. Glancing at his hand he saw his ring was missing too. "My ring is gone."
"Mine too," Wade answered.
Bastian turned to George, trying to get a response from him. "George. George."
Wade tried to stand but swayed dangerously; he searched for something to hold on to and found the stone wall only a few paces next to them. There was no window but a trapdoor above them where a bit of light illuminated the room sparsely.
Bastian turned George over. He had blood all over his face. "Wade! George is bleeding." Bastian continued trying to wake the other hunter. He heard Wade approaching them as close as possible. Bastian checked George's pulse. He found it quickly and let out a sigh of relief. "He is alive."
Wade bent over him. "George? C'mon buddy we need you to wake up."
George finally opened his eyes. "Where is the asshole?" he groaned.
Wade tried to keep him still, "Easy my friend, you have a bleeding head wound. Who are you talking about? The pastor?"
George brought a hand to his forehead in pain, rattling his chains, "No, fucking glittering fairies with wings, idiot. Of course the pastor. I saw you two falling unconscious over your coffees and when the Pastor saw his poison or whatever he put in it didn't work on me he knocked me out with a log from the firewood."
Bastian got up. "At least we know he is not a demon. He didn't react to the Holy Water I put into his coffee."
George turned his head to him. "Yeah, but this means we know nothing more about what we are dealing with."
The numb feeling subsided slowly but there was no way to escape their prison yet. George could not get up. He felt dizzy and sick to his stomach as soon as he even tried to sit up. With a lot of effort, they managed to help him lean onto the moldy wall. This seemed to be some kind of root cellar.
Wade sighed, frustrated, "I'd be all in for a good idea of how we are supposed to get out of here?"
*** EST ***
WADE
The night fell over the world outside and even the little light that shone through the slits of the trap door faded. It got cold during the night and they had still found nothing in the cellar to use to get rid of the shackles or as a weapon. George drifted in and out of consciousness. "He has a bad concussion, I'm pretty sure of that," Wade told Bastian.
His friend nodded, "Yeah, I think so too. We have to get him to a doctor."
Rubbing his upper arms, Wade nodded. "With a bit of luck, Chip is already searching for us."
"I hope the kid doesn't get into trouble. He has no idea that we are trapped."
In the morning they were woken by a noise of something that was pushed away from the trap door.
Gable entered with a pistol at the ready. "Don't move, if you don't want anyone else to get hurt. I have a weapon ready to fire." He didn't even close the door behind him.
He pointed the gun at Bastian. "No foul tricks." Gable handed Wade the key and motioned for him to open the chain that connected their foot shackles. As soon as Wade was out of it he was told to fix the others again with the gun pointed at him now. Gable checked if the chains were locked again, turning to Wade afterwards, "Out with you, Wilmington. I have a special offer for you. Originally it was for Rutherford. But as he has decided to send his students," Gable shook his shoulders. "But I've heard Thomas has great plans for you, Wilmington. He really shouldn't have missed the show. It would be priceless to see his face."
Wade mumbled, "I'm glad he didn't come."
His captor roughly shoved him up the few stairs that led out of the cellar.
Wade reluctantly did what he was told. He hated to leave Bastian and George behind as much as he hated to be led into a situation unknown and without anything that provided protection.
The pastor pushed him with the weapon at the ready into the church building. Wade saw a few things had changed. The altar was cleared of the cross and the white linen. Now it was covered in black and a copper bowl was placed in the middle. Some white candles were burning and around the altar, a circle of protection was drawn with red color. The hunter had no clue what meaning the symbols on the ground had. One thing was obvious - the pastor was far off the Right Way.
"Get inside the ring," the man ordered.
Wade didn't move. He was not going to be part of this ritual whatever the hell the purpose was. He had to at least try fighting off the man before he could start. Wade turned in a swift motion in an attempt to hit his captor with the shackles. He hit the pastor in the face and the man stumbled, caught off guard, to the ground. Wade couldn't balance his move properly with the chains on his feet and hands, crashing to the ground too.
The pastor was over him much quicker than Wade had thought possible. Wade heard him talking, "That was stupid of you," before he felt a stabbing pain in his side. It hurt like hell - every move hurt. The pastor ripped the blade he had used to stab Wade free and he felt his blood spilling out warm and wet from the wound. Wade went to his knees in shock.
Gable grabbed him by the collar, dragging him into the ring. "I hadn't thought you baby hunters would make it this hard, boy."
Wade couldn't move from the pain. He fought for every new breath. The man collected some of his blood from the wound in the copper bowl. He heard him recite Latin words. There was a gust of wind coming up in the closed building.
How did the man dare to summon something in the house of God? On this altar? With his blood? Wade had to stop him!
The pastor was done with his verse and black smoke began to creep through every gap the church had. It crept toward them. He began struggling. The stinging pain soon stopped his attempts to crawl away. The smoke was ready to take him over as a vessel for whatever demon the pastor had summoned but it abruptly stopped before him. For some reason, the demonic presence was not able to take possession of him. Without his ring, the demon should be able to. Then Wade remembered what George had told him in the carriage - the sign George had drawn to his arm - he had told him that it was a protection against possession.
Wade tried to catch a useful thought. He had to stop this! Glancing over to Gable, he saw the confusion in the summoner's eyes.
"Why isn't it working? Take him, Master, he is yours!"
*** EST ***
BASTIAN
Mike would kill him if Wade got killed. He had promised his friend that he would have an eye on the two and here he sat trapped in a root cellar with George unconscious and Wade gone with the crazy pastor.
He heard a noise outside. Had someone called his name? He tried to concentrate on the sound. Someone was searching for them. It had to be Chip. The shouts barely a whisper down here were unmistakable.
Bastian got up, trying to reach the trap door without any luck. He had to get Chip's attention. He wished he had something to throw at the door. Then he had an idea.
Pulling his shoe from his foot he threw it at the door. He waited a moment then threw the other against the wood. The knock was not very loud and he shouted for help to get more attention.
There was movement at the door. It opened and Chip's young face glanced down at them.
Bastian called out for him. "Chip! Thank God. You found us!"
The kid entered the cellar. "Bastian, what happened? I was worried because you didn't come to the hostel all night. So I decided to search for you. I found the horses but no hint of you. The church is locked."
"You did well. We were pretty screwed here without any help."
Chip began fumbling with the lock that held the chains to the wall. He handed Bastian a lock picker and Bastian began opening the shackles too.
Bastian turned to George. "Help me to get him out of here. He has a bad concussion and needs a doctor. Did you bring the carriage with you?"
"Yes, of course. It's outside. Behind the building is a barn where I found your horses," Chip told him.
They brought George outside, getting him into the carriage. Bastian was glad for the sharp mind the boy had. "Come, we need to find Wade. Maybe he'll need your help too."
They entered through the pastor's house and came into the church, just in time to witness the horror that took place there. Wade in a demon trap, black smoke above him. For some reason, the demon didn't take possession of Wade. Bastian had to get his friend out of there. He spotted the pastor at the edge of the ring.
*** EST ***
WADE
Suddenly, Wade saw Bastian and Chip behind Gable. Thank God! Bastian jumped on the pastor, wrestling him down. The pastor had no chance. Bastian gave him a hard shove which caused the man to stumble into the ring. Instantly the black smoke, lingering over Wade, attacked the pastor, taking over his new vessel. Helpless they witnessed how the black smoke forced its toxic presence mercilessly into the man's body.
Bastian screamed at him, "Wade! Get out of there!"
He tried but he just couldn't move quick enough, strong merciless hands turned him over. "You'll pay for this, hunter." The possessed pastor came closer.
Some water was splashed onto the demon. He screamed in agony. Wade glanced over to where Chip stood with an empty Holy Water bowl he had grabbed from the side of the altar in his hands.
Bastian began reciting the exorcism as quickly as possible. "Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus, omnis satanica potestas, omnis incursio infernalis adversarii,..." The demon stumbled back in agony over these words.
Chip reached over the ring line to grab Wade by his jacket. He grunt out in pain but the kid didn't stop, pulling him outside the protection ring into safety.
At the same time a shot echoed thunderously in the church. Bastian had grabbed the loaded pistol Gable had put aside and fired it at the demon to stop his approach to get a hold of Wade before his friend was out of it.
"... omnis legio, omnis congregatio et secta diabolica, adjuramus te," Bastian finished the verse. Once again Black smoke was in the church, this time exiting. The pastor's body slumped lifeless to the ground. Bastian took a breath of relief. He turned his head to the other two in the room. "Wade!"
Wade felt Chip's arms around him. He was safe. Relief flooded his mind. He heard Bastian shouting his name. Then his Brother was at his side.
"Wade, easy. Where is all this blood coming from?" Bastian asked, shaking.
Wade lifted the hand he had pressed to his stab wound. Through gritted teeth, he pressed out, "The bloody pastor stabbed me in the side. I think he missed anything important."
Bastian and Chip helped him up, "We'll let a doctor decide that. Come."
"Gable?" Wade asked.
Bastian answered plainly. "He is dead. Let's get out of here. We must be gone before someone looks for him."
The stab wound hurt with every movement and Wade became unsure if it was not serious. Mike would kick his ass should he die. This thought was bizarre. Wade felt weak. He was only half aware as they dragged him to the black carriage Chip had obviously driven here. Wade saw George was already inside, holding a cloth to his forehead.
"Wade, what the hell happened?" his friend glanced up in shock.
Bastian entered, "We have to hurry to a doctor, Wade got stabbed." Bastian revealed a hunter's ring from his pocket. "Here Wade, this belongs to you." Bastian slid the ring over Wade's hand.
Wade smirked weakly. "... until death does us apart," he joked.
"Yes Wade, only that can separate us, Brother," Bastian answered, bringing a hand around the back of Wade's neck, bringing their foreheads softly together.
*** EST ***
BASTIAN
Chip had already found a doctor. It was the first thing the kid had to do in a town. Of course, it has to be someone silent as a grave about strange injuries.
The man lived on the northeast end of Pittsburgh. Even better, the road to Philadelphia led further east from there. Bastian wanted nothing more than a quick return to their Guardian.
The doctor was capable as much as Bastian could tell. Even George was satisfied with his treatment and that meant something. Usually, their crafter had a bad control issue and didn't trust the work of simple physicians.
Wade would make it. It was a flesh wound and the doctor had been able to stop the bleeding and stitched him up. He would need a few weeks rest but would be as good as new.
Bastian held a watchful eye over his friends as they entered the carriage to start their 300 miles journey back to Philadelphia. It would take them some days longer to take care of the injured.
"Thank you, Doctor." Bastian offered a hand to the man.
He accepted with a nod and a short smile. "Don't let them over do. I'd prefer if Mr. Wilms would rest for a few days longer.
"Yes, but we must be at home. Goodbye, Sir." Bastian gave him a last nod and followed the others.
TBC