Demon Hunt (27 page)

“
Good enough for me. Not to sound mean and it’s not that I won’t miss you, but take the thing as far away as you can, okay?” Pam let out a squeal. “Ooo! There’s big one in the road! Hit it, Rhi! Hit it!”

A leering figure erupted from the earth in the center of the road. A figure from a hundred legends rose into the air, naked and winged with six-inch long horns on its bare head. The horns dripped nasty looking goo onto the ground where it sizzled in the snow and mud, allowing steam to escape into the air. The thing waggled a forked tongue through dirty, razor-sharp teeth at the oncoming vehicle. Rhi hit the gas and wondered if car wax was all it was advertised to be. Whump! The demon hit the grille, cracking the metal. Blue sparks spurted from the truck, and the body of the vehicle glowed with electric blue light. The big tires passed over the body of the demon, making the truck bounce wildly. Blue sparks spewed from the undercarriage and up the hood and side doors.

“
Gosh, do you think someone put a hoodoo on my truck?” Rhi asked, beginning to enjoy herself.

“
Duh. You think they did it to my rattletrap too? Let’s plow!” Pam replied, her devil-may-care persona returned to the fore. She glanced back. “Check it out. You lit up that one’s world.”

In the rearview mirror, Rhi could see the demon they plowed over still moved. It rose into the air to raggedly flutter in their wake. One of its wings wasn’t working properly because it was broken and missing chunks of flesh. A little trail of smoke issued from the creature’s body.

“
Come on! Do we have time to back up over it?” Pam spread crimson lipstick onto her wide mouth.

“
No, we’ll get written up for being late and I have a perfect record. Maybe we can run through here on the way home.” She would worry later about whether she had gotten a bit bloodthirsty. For now, there was one less demon in the world. “Did we check in the storage area before we jumped in the truck?”

Pam wiggled her eyebrows. “Nope. Do you always check in the darkness back there, where axe wielding killers hide …” Her tone faltered and both women stared at each other.

Rhi slammed on the brakes as Pam hurtled over the seat, gun in hand. Nothing crouched behind the back seat.

“
I don’t feel silly at all right now!” Rhi announced as she slipped the truck into gear and headed back towards town, away from the eyes that instantly appeared in the woods when they slid to a stop.

Pam crept back in her seat and fastened the seat belt, her gun in her lap. “Paranoid and proud, girlfriend.”

* * * *

Houston pulled up to the third A-frame on the hill above Horse Thief Gulch. The snow-filled yard was surrounded by a neat barbed wire fence and in the exact center, on a direct line with the front door, a thirty-foot tall flagpole stood proudly decorated with the Stars and Stripes.

“
I’d have figured this guy for a Confederate battle flag, not Old Glory,” he remarked as he climbed out of the pickup.

The gray shadows of the night were padding into the woods but the darkness didn’t touch the yard of the survivalist, Bobby Wayne Bedford. Floodlights blazed everywhere, powered by a huge generator located under the shed roof and padlocked into an iron cage. The yard was as bright as a summer noon and the snow appeared to have been smoothed down. God alone knew what Pam’s eccentric tenant wired the yard with.

“
It’s the wrong day. I fly the Confederate colors every other day,” a hoarse voice whispered behind him, bringing Houston the closest he had ever come to having a panic attack.

Bobby Wayne Bedford appeared out of some well-placed bushes near the fence to stand behind Houston, a shotgun in his hands. Carefully, Houston raised his own hands and turned to face the other man, who kept his shotgun trained on Houston’s face.

Bobby Wayne stared back at him through haggard, bloodshot eyes ringed with black. The man appeared to have been on patrol for days. This would have to be handled or the survivalist might crumble like an old saltine.

“
I’m feeling a little spooked, neighbor, so why don’t you hold your hands out where I can see them after you get rid of the gun under your jacket?” Bobby Wayne waved his weapon towards the snow bank. “Toss the weapon over there.”

“
Now, Bobby Wayne, that’ll just get my gun wet,” Houston replied in an exasperated tone. “And if those things in the woods come at us right now, I’d think you’d want me to have my gun.”

Surprise flashed across the other man’s face and he lowered his weapon. “There aren’t any of those critters in the woods up here, Houston. They don’t like this mountain for some reason. It might be the dog. She hates them and I think they hate her. How about some coffee?”

Like he had never put a gun to Houston’s head, Bobby Wayne made a motion towards his house where a distinct, mournful howl arose from inside.

“
Stay on the path. I’ve wired a few things. Really, I have to arm them but accidents can happen.”

Houston grinned and shook his head as he followed the survivalist into the fenced yard, careful to stay on the flagstone path.

The large barn behind the house had been remodeled and painted red with white trim, complete with the traditional hex symbols. The barn’s doors were closed, Houston hoped, because the Tennessee redneck stored the equipment he needed to battle monsters with in the building. It would save some time if things went badly.

Another deep bark interrupted his train of thought and he glanced up in time to see Rhi’s bloodhound standing inside the house on the couch that backed up to the picture window. Ellie Mae bayed at them for all she was worth, her cable tail wagging wildly. Rhi told him earlier in the day Bobby Wayne regularly stopped by her house to help care for her dog and had taken the hound out to wander in the last few days. Her neighbor obviously had a few other reasons for befriending the dog.

Bobby Wayne was dressed in a full set of black, gray and white winter battle fatigues. He stood in the door for a moment before going far enough into his house to allow Houston in behind him. Houston had never seen the other man so rattled. Bobby Wayne obviously had had contact with the demons the dark Blackthorne brother had called up. The kitchen table was loaded down with armaments, including claymore mines, grenades and cold weather gear. An M16 leaned by a cabinet and ammunition boxes were scattered everywhere.

“
Looks like you’re planning on doing some hunting, Bobby.” Houston craned his neck to peer around the taller man’s shoulder. A Mark 19 grenade launcher lay on the spotless kitchen floor next to the table. “What are you trolling for - a Tyrannosaurus Rex?”

Bobby Wayne’s hands tightened on the weapon he still held. “You know what I’m hunting. I’m going to find out what lab these things are escaping from and blow the place to kingdom come.”

Houston put on his wisest expression for the slightly mad man in front of him. “These things aren’t escaping from a government lab, if that’s what you think, Bobby Wayne. But I can tell you about them. We might be able to make this all go away without a shot fired. But, I believe in being prepared and I have some ideas about killing these ‘critters’ out if we need to. And let’s be honest. Only you and I are nutty enough to believe any of this.”

Bobby Wayne considered that for a moment as Ellie Mae made her way around him, a golden shadow, to jump up and place her paws on Houston’s chest to lick his face enthusiastically. “Well, if the dog likes you, I guess I can listen to what you have to say. Tell me what’s going on, Houston, and what it has to do with those girls over the hill.”

Houston surveyed the kitchen, which had been converted into a war room. Topographical maps were tacked onto every open inch of wall space and weapons of all shapes and sizes were scattered on the kitchen counters. The sink had a stinking pile of what looked like dried black elephant droppings in it.

Houston’s eyebrows and opinion of the survivalist went up a notch. Dragon crap? Bobby Wayne might be
very
useful. “One of those little girls has this town’s fate and the world riding on her shoulders. And the Armageddon scenario you’ve been preparing for? It’s here. After we unload some water jugs I picked up, I’ll take that coffee.” Nothing like laying all the cards on the table, he just hoped Bobby Wayne’s mind could take the strain.

After carefully sitting his gun down butt first onto the floor, Bobby Wayne Bedford snapped to attention. He had no questions. That told Houston he was unbalanced for sure.

“
Beer’s in the fridge and the coffee pot is full of fresh brew,” Bobby Wayne said. “I’m ready … uh, why are we unloading water jugs?”

Houston grinned. “Because it is a kind of water that will bring us great comfort in our time of need. I suspect it will have an interesting effect on our ammunition.”

Comprehension fluttered across the other man’s face. “If the water you have in the truck does something nasty to those things down the hill - then they’re not escaped lab experiments, are they?”

“
No, Bobby Wayne, I’m afraid they’re not.”

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Lost in dawn’s silver mists, Rhi watched the red walls of Ute Pass fly past as she drove. Ellie Mae ignored the scenery. Instead the dog had decided to stand in the back seat and lay her huge skull on Rhi’s shoulder as her mistress maneuvered the vehicle back and forth through the pass’ twists and hairpin turns.

“
Dog, you do know your head weighs about as much as a sack of cement,” Rhi told the dog as she shifted out of overdrive into first gear to compensate for the extreme incline of the pass. The dog grumbled and nuzzled her hair. “And now my hair’s full of doggie slobber.”

“
What do you expect? Your dog’s nothing more than a pony-sized spit factory.” Pam sprawled in the back seat, her body twisted around so she could survey the contents of a large wooden case in the cargo area Bobby Wayne had presented Rhi with before they drove away from Horse Thief Gulch. The rest of the belongings Rhi had managed to scrape together for her escape were in suitcases, tied to the truck’s roof rack.

The survivalist and Houston rode behind in Houston’s battered crew cab pickup. Melon, still a bit wild-eyed after recounting a shortened version of the events of the snowmobile race, had opted to remain at Pam’s house.

Rhi knew Pam had given her a watered down version of Melon’s story and was thankful for it. Rhi had enough guilt riding her shoulders to weigh down a barge - she didn’t need or want to hear about the slaughter at the snowmobile party. Strangely, the local media had been reticent about the incident, stating an explosion, possibly of unstable dynamite, had claimed the lives of a group of friends out partying at a bonfire. Rhi suspected the hand of Pearl and the Brotherhood guided the thoughts of the more inquisitive reporters to less dangerous matters.

“
Look at this stuff! You’ve got guns, bullets, an adjustable bullet proof vest, grenades of all shapes and sizes, hand-written instructions so even a girlie blackjack dealer can use the stuff - and a genuine Confederate States of America Calvary saber.” Pam picked up the scabbard to expose several inches of the blade inside. She tested the edge with one callused thumb. “It’s sharp. I wonder where he picked up
this –
it’s worth a fortune. Look, the tassels are still on the scabbard.”

Rhi sighed. “I told him I couldn’t take his sword and he told me that it was okay, he had four others. You might want to reconsider dating Bobby Wayne, Pam. I think he might be stinking rich. I’d mail the sword back to you to give to him at some point but I’m afraid he’s right: I might need it. I might need all of this stuff. But you seem a lot happier about using the stuff than I am.”

The other woman hefted a clip in one hand to load the nine-millimeter she had freed from its case. “All I know is someone is finally letting me play with explosives and I get to use the phrase ‘Holy hand grenade’ for real.”

“
Speaking of holy, how do Houston and Bobby Wayne know sprinkling everything with holy water and mixing it with explosives will give it the extra ‘boom’ against these things?” Rhi asked. “Father Moore must have been a little put out when they showed up in the middle of the night with a truckload of weapons and explosives to bless.”

“
Naw, this is Cripple Creek. The good Padre probably wondered if he should high tail it last night or this morning. Only an idiot would not know something is going on,” Pam replied. She hefted the gun in one hand. “And we know holy water has a nasty affect on the critters because Houston and Bobby Wayne went down the hill yesterday to test the theory. They blasted a few of the demons popping up at the bottom of the slope, past the barrier. The things fried like a drop of water on a hot griddle. I hope he has a shoulder holster we can size for you in here,” she muttered as she turned to start digging again. “Houston doesn’t seem to think the little buggers are going to quietly go away after you leave and he has extermination in mind.”

Rhi cringed at the word ‘extermination’. Then there was a sudden flash of red in her mind’s eye and she swerved hard before righting the SUV.

“
Hey!” protested Pam, who was tossed into Ellie Mae by the movement.

“
Sorry,” Rhi muttered and concentrated on the road. The gnawing pain in the back of her head swelled another increment.