Authors: Erik Williams
Demon (34 page)
“And you want to find them?”
“Yes.”
“And do what?”
“Well, guard them of course. That is our appointed task.” He opened the top button of his shirt and exposed the tattoo some more. “That is why we are marked. A reminder of our purpose in life.”
Mike swallowed saliva pooling in the back of his throat. “So where do I come in?”
The man moved away from the table, turning his back to Mike. “We believe you are marked, too.”
“I don't have any tattoos.”
“Not that kind of mark.”
“Semyaza never touched me.”
The man spun around. “You know its name?”
“Yeah, it told me.”
“You conversed?”
“There wasn't much else to do.”
“Why did it not kill you?”
Mike stared at the ceiling, not wanting to explain that Semyaza had seen the goodness of man through his actions. “He realized he couldn't stay free forever.”
“He surrendered?”
“So to speak.”
“Amazing.” The man moved close to him again and leaned over him. His breath smelled of mint. “Do you know you are the only person to have survived an encounter with one?”
“I know now. And that makes me special, huh?”
“Very.”
“But how am I marked?”
“Since you are the only one to survive a direct encounter, we believe you may have a traceâcall it a residual essenceâfrom the entity.”
“You planning to make fallen angel cologne or something?”
The man smiled. “No. We are planning to locate the remaining prisons.”
“With my supernatural essence.”
“So to speak.”
“Like a divining rod? How do you know it'll work?”
“We do not.”
Mike sighed. “So, you're swinging at balls in the dark.”
“I do not understand this expression.”
“You're taking a chance, hoping I'll start glowing or something when I'm close to one.”
“Perhaps.”
“You're fucking nuts.”
The man's smile disappeared. “You think you are very clever, Mr. Caldwell.”
Mike's veins froze. He knew his real name.
Shit, shit, shit.
“Oh, yes, I am well aware of your true identity,” the man continued. “Michael Caldwell. Clandestine field agent for the Central Intelligence Agency. Until recently, when you resigned. Yet here you are, still working covertly. Interesting.”
The man has top secret information,
Mike thought.
Which means he has a source inside the agency. Which means his organization is serious and possibly powerful. Double shit.
“I said we have our own sources of intelligence.” The man clapped his hands together. “And we have narrowed down where the other prisons may be within a few dozen square miles. If we take you to one and our plan works, all is the better. And if it does not, then we kill you.”
Mike swallowed another mouthful of spit. “Guess I don't have much of a choice right now.”
“No, you do not.”
“Well, seeing that I'm not going anywhere fast, would it be possible to get some clothes and just handcuff me to the wall or something?”
The man shook his head. “I am afraid not. Because you will no doubt attempt escape at the first possible opportunity, we must take certain precautions to ensure you do not flee.”
“How about some clothes, then? This table is a bit cold.”
“Again, I am sorry.” The man turned to the door. “Gazzar!”
The door opened and another man, this one portly with a long beard, walked in. He took up station at the table with the equipment on it. His eyes settled on Mike's legs.
“As I said,” the man said, “we must take certain precautions.”
Despite his best efforts, Mike felt his hands start to shake slightly at his sides. “What kind of precautions?”
“Gazzar is going to amputate your legs just above the knees.”
ERIK WILLIAMS
is a former naval officer and current defense contractor (but he's not allowed to talk about it). He is the author of the novel
Demon
and numerous other small press works and short stories. He currently lives in San Diego with his wife and three daughters. When he's not at his day job, he can usually be found changing diapers or coveting carbohydrates. At some point in his life, he was told by a few people he had potential. Recently, he told himself he's the bee's knees. Follow him on Twitter @TheErikWilliams.
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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Excerpt from
Guardian
copyright © 2014 by Erik Williams.
DEMON
. Copyright © 2014 by Erik Williams. All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the nonexclusive, nontransferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, decompiled, reverse-engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books.
EPub Edition SEPTEMBER 2014 ISBN: 9780062359056
Print Edition ISBN: 9780062359063
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