Look Back in Anger Ch.9
Claire was royally pissed at her roommate.
She did her best not to show it, though. Instead she carefully cut the sandwich she had just made for Angela into four triangles, as the child had requested. She poured each of them a glass of milk and sat down with her at the rickety kitchen table in her apartment.
She held up her glass of milk. "Cheers," she offered.
"Cheers." Angela happily clinked her glass to Claire's and then went to work on her lunch.
It wasn't that Claire minded having the child over. Even if it meant she had spent the morning cleaning in order to impress a five-and-a-half-year-old.
But she couldn't figure out why Heather had made such a fuss about having the girl over, and then had not bothered to show up.
Angela had said she didn't mind. "I came to see you, Claire," she'd explained after Claire had apologized for the sixth or seventh time.
"I'm going to miss you," Angela now said around a mouthful of grilled cheese.
"You will?" Claire was surprised to find that she was genuinely touched. She must have grown rather fond of the little rugrat in the last few days. "Thanks."
"You don't ever come to Montana, do you?"
"Uh, no. I mean, I never have."
"Bummer."
Claire glanced at the clock on the stove. Over the phone Jane Winchester had made herself very clear. Angela could visit for two hours, no more, and no less. At 3PM sharp Jane would be back to collect her daughter, and Claire didn't dare miss that deadline.
"So how much sweet-talking did you have to do to get your mom to let you come over?" Claire asked.
"A lot. But she knows you, and she knows your mom."
"And my dad," Claire supplied idly.
"No, she's never actually met Jimmy," Angela corrected. "I haven't either. Only Sam and Dean have."
"That's not exactly what I mean."
"Then what do you mean?" The child asked, blinking up at her.
"Ummm…" Claire was of course burning with curiosity about where, exactly, Angela had come from. The little girl hadn't been found in the cabbage patch, after all.
Claire had lost her virginity during her sophomore year at college. She wasn't naive about how these things worked.
But the implications of the child's very existence were still sort of…mind-boggling.
"Never mind," she said quickly. "We'll talk about it when you're older. How's the sandwich?"
"Good, thank you."
Claire's phone chirped, and she quickly pulled it out of her pocket.
"Finally," she grumbled before putting it to her ear. "Heather, where the hell are you? You're missing our 'goodbye' lunch, which was your idea in the first place."
"I'm so sorry, babe. But Chris' car broke down and we need a ride."
"Then take Toby's." Claire stood and refilled Angela's glass.
"We all came in one car. We're down at the new garage."
"Again? You were just there yesterday," Claire groused.
"But we could only peek in the windows. Today Chris got the owner to give him the key. We're checking out all the space. I'm telling you, this place will be awesome! So, can you come and get us?"
"What? No!"
"Why not?" Heather whined.
"Because Angela is here. I can't leave her by herself in a strange apartment."
"Then bring her with you."
Claire ground her teeth together. "I can't. Her mom would kill me. Literally."
"I'm sure she wouldn't."
"You have no idea, Heather."
Even over the phone Claire could hear Heather's breathing quicken, a sure sign she was losing her temper.
"An hour of your time, babe. That's all I need. Put the kid in the backseat of your clunker, hop on down here and pick us up, and then, zip, you're home again."
Claire glanced at the clock again. "I don't know. That will be cutting in awfully close."
"Claire. Sweetie. You know I don't like calling in favors."
"Says who?"
Heather pretended she hadn't heard this. "But may I remind you that I was the one who found our apartment? I was the one who put down the security deposit when you didn't have any money. I was the one who helped you pass French last year, and I was the one who got you that date with Evan Reardon when you were so obsessed with him you stopped eating. You owe me, babe."
"Fine. Fine. Just shut up already. We're on our way."
Heather was instantly light and sunshine again. "Thank you, Claire. I will owe you forever, I promise."
"You're damn right you will," Claire said firmly.
They managed to hit a traffic snarl in downtown Minneapolis even though it wasn't technically rush hour yet.
Claire chewed anxiously at her lip. Angela seemed happy enough in the back seat, and she had on her seatbelt and everything.
But Claire couldn't help but think that taking Angela out of the apartment at all was going to get her in big trouble.
"I'll just explain," Claire said to herself under her breath as she maneuvered around a taxi cab. "It's no big deal, right? We can still make it back in time."
The trip ate up the better part of an hour. Yet when they pulled up in front of the warehouse there was no sign of Heather, or Chris, or Toby. Heather's car was parked on the street, but no one was in it.
Claire pulled out her phone and dialed Heather's number. There was no answer.
They weren't in a very good neighborhood. The block looked deserted.
The building, with its banks of dirt-encrusted windows, looked like no one had entered it in years. The large rolling door that would have admitted cars into the service bay was closed, but there was a smaller door to one side.
Claire tried to reach Heather one more time, and then reluctantly put away her phone.
"C'mon, kiddo. Let's go in. They're probably upstairs and can't hear us or something."
Claire took Angela's hand. To her relief she found that the smaller door was indeed unlocked.
They stepped inside, into a dark, cool space that still reeked of gasoline and oil. Most of the fittings for the garage had been removed. They had left behind odd holes in the walls and floors, like missing teeth.
"Heather?" Claire called out. "We're here!"
There was no response.
They passed through a set of double doors. Now they were in some kind of foyer that separated the garage from the rest of the building. There was an old staircase in the far left corner. Judging from the layers of graffiti decorating the walls the space had been broken into more than once.
Claire went to the foot of the stairs.
"Chris? Toby? Answer me!" She put her hands on her hips. "And just so you know, if you guys are hiding I'm totally going to kick your asses!"
Angela had paused. She was gazing silently at the back of the doors that had closed behind them.
She suddenly grasped Claire's hand.
"Claire, look."
Claire turned and followed the child's gaze. At first all she saw on the doors was more graffiti.
But, like one of those pictures you had to stare at to see the hidden image, after a few seconds she could make out a strange marking that spanned both doors. It was a circle, several feet in diameter, with a strange character in the middle.
She was startled to see that there were several more on both sides of them.
"What are they?" The sound of her own voice in the silent space startled Claire.
"They're sigils. Real ones."
"But why? Why are they here?"
Angela was still carefully studying the figures scrawled on the walls and the ceiling over their heads.
"They're angel-repelling sigils, Claire. Very old, and very powerful ones." Angela's gaze sharpened. "We need to leave. Now."
But Claire, as if hypnotized, had already reached out a hand to carefully touch one. She had thought at first they might have been made of paint or lipstick, but instead her hand came away sticky.
Horrified she touched a few of her fingers together. The substance was thick, almost like…
"Oh my God! Heather!"
"Claire, wait!" Angela cried.
But it was too late.
Claire charged up the rickety staircase and through another pair of double doors.
She found herself in a large, open space that ran the length of the building. The windows were smeared with grime. Half-empty metal shelving units, old crates, and scattered papers suggested that it had at one time been used as storage space.
In the few moments it took her eyes to adjust to the weak light Angela arrived behind her. She tried to catch Claire's hand again, but the older girl pulled away.
"Claire, stop, please!"
Claire ignored her.
"Heather and the others might be here. They might be hurt, or need help…" Claire said as she walked slowly forward. Every nerve ending in her body was prickling, warning her of danger.
But she wasn't going to leave without her friend.
She carefully walked around a row of shelves, heading for the right side of the room where the shadows were deepest.
She found Chris first, nearly falling over his inert body.
"Chris?" Claire quickly kneeled down.
The man was lying on his stomach, head turned slightly to one side. Blood was oozing from a gash across the back of his head. A cracked piece of pipe, stained red with blood, lay nearby.
She felt for his pulse, and was relieved to feel one—faint, but steady. He moaned faintly when she touched him.
"Stay still, Chris," Claire whispered to him. "I'm going to get help, OK?"
"He-" Chris managed to say.
"Heather? Where is Heather, Chris? Is she here?" Claire asked urgently.
But Chris was unable to speak again. Instead he curled the fingers of his right hand against the floor. Claire realized he was pointing.
Terrified by what she was going to see, it took every ounce of strength in Claire's body to look in that direction.
She screamed.
Heather had been tied to a chair. Her head was dropped forward onto her chest, her long red hair concealing her face.
Claire rushed to her.
"Heather, don't worry, I'm here now…"
But as soon as Claire reached her she realized where all the blood for the sigils had come from.
The front of Heather's blouse was soaked with it, already congealing in the cold room. The terrible stains blended into Heather's red hair where it draped over her shoulders.
Claire reached out and touched the side of her roommate's face.
Heather's skin was cool. From her angle Claire could just barely see the edge of the gaping wound dividing Heather's throat like a ghastly smile.
"Claire!"
She whirled around, horrified to find Angela standing behind her.
"We need to go. Now." The child ordered.
Claire did not need any more prompting. She pulled Angela into her arms and ran for the doors, only to see them slam shut in front of them. There was another sigil drawn across it, the largest one yet.
Holding Angela close Claire backed away from it, her eyes frantically searching for another exit.
There wasn't one.
"Claire, Claire, Claire," said a voice from out of the darkness. "What am I going to do with you?"