Demontouched: The Demontouched Saga (Book 1) (5 page)

“Well, well. There’s the asshole right there.” Shawn points directly at me.

Sara and I do the first thing that comes to our minds.

We run.

-6-

Running through the hallways, I notice they are sparkling clean and a lot less crowded than they would have been a few years ago. I have to remember to thank the big guy for that, if I ever manage to meet him.

Something tells me that I won’t get that chance.

I can feel Eunie stirring in my chest. Sometimes I think the fucker has a hard-on for blowing shit up. He could have taken over in the car, but nope. If I die, he has to find another host and they are getting harder to come by. Self-preservation is apparently an attractive trait in demon kind. I guess he never learned how to drive.

We come up to a split in the hallway, making one turn, and then another. Eventually, we duck off into a stairwell somewhere close to ICU. Fitting that I chose here to make my stand.

“Run down the hall to the emergency exit to the left.” I point at the convenient fire escape sign posted in front of us. “Shit is about to get nasty here and I can’t promise your safety if you are anywhere near me.”

“But they’ll kill you,” she wraps her arms around me tightly and looks me in the eyes.

“I’ll be fine. I have a few tricks up my sleeve.” I bend over and give her kiss. Nothing like facing death to make a person forget about some silly stripper panties.

“Go!” I push her down the hallway and turn around to face Shawn and his friends. Shawn is a lot bigger in person than he looked behind the mailbox. It wouldn’t be a huge problem, but his two goons are even bigger than he is. I picked one hell of a day to play that small kid on the playground.

“You fellas look lost. Not every day someone follows us on our mid evening jog through the hospital.”

“Ahh, a smart ass.” Shawn cracks his knuckles. “Why did you do that to Randy?”

“Can’t say I’ve met Randy. Was he that nasty fucker that smelled like burnt hair earlier?”

That comment must have crossed a line, because the two goons charge up to tackle me. I do some matador shit and manage to dodge both of them. It’s a damn shame I didn’t notice Shawn lagging behind. He crashes into my back and takes me to the floor.

“I don’t really like guys like you,” he pushes my head down into the cold tile floor. I look down the hall, trying not to think about the blood and piss that has surely been all over this floor at some point. Looking up I notice a fire extinguisher hanging on the wall behind one of the goons.

I reach out at it and draw my arms in, pulling the extinguisher towards me. When it gets close I flip my wrists back at Shawn causing it to hit him square in his face. Within seconds I’ve given the janitors some extra work to do.

I push myself up to my knees just to get rewarded with a kick to my ribs. The force of the kick knocks me into the wall. I don’t hear any of them crack, but I’m still going to be a bit stiff in the morning.

The goon laughs, I suspect because he is going in for the kill. I focus on the fire extinguisher, flicking it into his kneecap. The loud crack tells me he may want to schedule some knee surgery before he leaves.

My stomach turns as I watch his knee go in the wrong direction before watching the goon crash to the floor.

I stand up and face the other goon who I notice reaching into his pocket. I rush him trying to take him to the ground, NFL style. I don’t want to take a chance that he is pulling out a gun.

Apparently, it is possible to be a smart ass AND a dumb ass at the same time, because goon two doesn’t budge an inch. He laughs and delivers an elbow directly to my spine, dropping me to the ground. If this keeps up I’m going to have to remember to find a supply of Vicodin before I leave.

In my chest I can tell Eunie isn’t happy. It is taking everything I can to stay conscious. If I go out, this hospital is fucked. I can’t let Nancy go out like that. I have to hold it together.

He pulls me up by my hair and spits in my face.

“Bad move asshole!” I put everything I have into a punch to his nuts which drops him to his knees. Getting to my feet I decide I to make a run for it. I’m about to round the corner when I catch a glimpse of Shawn swinging a red ax at my head. I duck in time to avoid decapitation, but the vertigo is starting to get thick, which makes me fall on my back.

Come on Eunie, give me two more minutes.

I look up to see Shawn perched above me, blood dripping off of his obviously broken nose, holding the axe over his head.

Shit.

I put my arms in front of my face, trying to focus on the blade of the axe.

He swings.

I got nothing. My only response is to wince, hoping it actually helps to speed things up.

Seconds pass. Since my head is in one piece, I decide I open my eyes.

What.

The.

Fuck.

Shawn is still above me, but instead of holding the ax above his head he is holding it in his head. When you consider my powers, it wouldn’t be odd, except that the ax is also embedded into the ceiling.

Nice one Eunie. Glad to see you can play without blowing up everything in sight.

I look at goon two, who is still holding his jewels. Then over to goon one, who is slowly crawling his way down the hall away from me. Both with a look of pure terror in their eyes.

Can’t say I blame them. It was probably freaky enough with me flinging a fire extinguisher around. If I still had it together there, I would have definitely lost it seeing my friend become part of the spring decorations.

I pull the fire extinguisher into my right hand and point at them with my left.

“Pockets. Empty them. Now.”

Both goons comply, throwing their worldly possessions onto the ground. Dropping the extinguisher, I pull both of their guns to me and level one at each.

“Now, you are going to tell me why you decided to fuck with my home.”

“I’m not telling you shit,” Jewels says.

I pull the trigger, putting a bullet square into his upper thigh. Something tells me that he isn’t worried about his balls anymore.

“Next one will have you singing soprano.” I look back at the other one. “How about you, Kneecap. Want a matching set?”

“Fuck you, man. I’d rather die,” Kneecap says.

“Granted.” I pull the trigger. Kneecap’s head explodes spraying blood and brains against the wall.

The janitor here is really going to hate me today.

“So.” I look down at Thigh. “You want the same thing as Kneecap back there?”

“Just do it. At least it will be fast.” Thigh is holding his leg tight, tears streaming out of his eyes.

I put the second gun in my waistband at the small of my back and reach out towards the ax still embedded in Shawn’s skull and pull it into my hands. “Nah, that option is off the table.” I reach back and swing the ax right at Thigh’s good leg. I miss it by inches, leaving a notch on the floor.

“What the fuck man? We are just here to watch over the whores. The boss is going to be pissed enough when he finds out half of the girls ran off.”

“Who’s your boss?” I pull back the ax, preparing to swing again.

“Duncan man, nobody you would know. He isn’t from around here. We came up from…”

“Memphis.” Thigh’s eyes nearly pop out of his head. “What does Duncan Stansbery want with St. Louis?”

“He wants to own everything and he is going to kill anyone who gets in his way.”

“He’s gonna have a fun time with me.” I lower the ax. “Here is what is going to happen. You are going to go back north and tell King Dumbass to pack his shit and head back to Memphis. Tonight. I don’t want to catch a trace of you fucks here tomorrow.”

He begins to laugh. “When I get back to Duncan and tell him what you did to Shawn, he is going to come down here and give you a royal ass beating himself.”

“Then tell him I look forward to it.”

I tell him to get on his feet and get to walking, keeping the gun pointed at him for good measure. When he is out of sight I turn around and walk towards the exit I sent Sara to.

Looking back at the two corpses in the hall, I half-ass regret that I didn’t bring my bag inside. Guess the demons can just have these two fucks.

-7-

Sara is out like a light.

I would be too if I just had to go through shit like that for the first time.

Instead of laying down, I walk to the fridge and grab a few beers in hopes that they can erase the memory of Shawn’s cleaved head.

I pop one open, sit down on the couch, and kick my legs back. Sara would kick my ass if she saw me with my boots on. I’ll take that risk. I want to be ready just in case someone barges through my door.

Eight beers later and I finally decide I need to come up with a plan to get the girls out. After thirteen I forget about the plan and decide to sit at the computer to watch some porn. It still amazes me that these were the first sites back up after the Rising.

Not weather sites.

Not map sites.

Not Craigslist where people could actually try to contact people they thought were missing.

Nope. Tits were priority numero uno, not that I’m complaining right about now.

I’m on my third video when sleep finally decides to take me.

* * *

The loud ring of my Metallica ringtone wakes me up. I stumble around and pull the phone out of my pocket.

It’s Nal.

“Nancy told me you ran out of the hospital in a hurry. Everything good on your end?”

“Yep. Shit’s under control. I left a mess in the hallway somewhere near the maternity ward.”

“They had the balls to come down here?”

I fill him in on all the details from yesterday from the conditions at the corner to Shawn’s cleaved skull.

“Thanks for getting Nancy out of there. She said you are going to get the others.”

“Yeah, as soon as I take a few aspirin, I’ll be on my way.”

“I’m heading down to the hospital later today to pick her up. Going to pay their friend a visit while I’m there.” Something tells me ole Randy won’t be making a speedy recovery after all.

I hang up the phone and pull myself off of the floor. I shutdown the computer before Sara wakes up. The last thing I need is for her to see what I had been up to the night before.

Walking into the kitchen, I start a pot of coffee and then grab a bottle of pills off the counter and take a few.

“When are we going to the motel?” Sara walks in and gives me a kiss on the cheek.

“As soon as I get my coffee and pack my gear.”

“Why do you need your gear? It’s not like we are going against a demon.” She grabs the pot and pours us both a cup.

“I hate leaving the dead unmarked. Every soul that doesn’t make it into purgatory is one that can come back to cause trouble later. I was caught with my pants down yesterday at the hospital.” I take a drink. “That won’t happen again.”

Most of the survivors don’t understand the war we are in. They just believe that God took the good ones and left the rest of us here to carry on. In reality, God took the good ones to get them the fuck out of the hell he is about to unleash here on Earth. The ones he left were the ones that didn’t believe. Unfortunately for us, that puts the odds square into the assholes’ court.

I take a long, hot shower before heading to my den to stock up. I pull out the clerical shirt and collar I picked up from an abandoned church a few months ago. Clothes became hard to come by after the Rising.

Most commodities did. I figured since the churches were going to be empty for the foreseeable future that they wouldn’t miss them. As an added bonus they allow people to let down their guard around me. A fatal mistake if you are on my shit list.

Next, I pack a dozen vials of holy water, grab a few crosses, my knife, and put an extra pocket edition of the bible in my pants pocket. As a final touch I strap Tamiel’s blade to my belt. This is as ready as I was ever going to be.

I reach down to grab my car keys when I hear a knock at the door. I look at Sara knowing we are firmly in the ‘not expecting company’ camp. I can feel Eunie start to stir, and in a hurry. Whoever it is, they’re pissing him off.

I pull out my gun and walk to the door. Taking a deep breath, I open the door with one hand while holding the gun up with the other. “Who the…” I look down and notice little girl. She couldn’t be older than six with long blonde hair tied in a pony tail.

“Who are you?” I say, relaxing my grip on the gun.

“I am Uriel, I was sent here to deliver a message.”

“Who, might I ask, would send you to deliver a message? It’s not exactly safe out here.”