Desolation (44 page)

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Authors: Derek Landy

BOOK: Desolation
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“One of those concrete rules, steadfast, we call it, has to do with visitors. Anyone who isn’t from here must leave before the festival begins. And anyone who’s caught here once the festival has begun? They don’t get to leave. Ever.”

“You don’t want to do this, Brenda.”

“Yeah, I do,” said Brenda. “Yeah, we all do. You’re a visitor and you have to die. It’s how we’ve kept Hell Night a secret for all these generations.” Her smile widened. “Death to outsiders.”

Brenda came at her and Amber raked at her with her claws. She expected Brenda’s protective scales to form, but none did, and Brenda shrieked and staggered, holding her injured arm, blood running through her fingers.

A sudden wave of anger hit Amber, and she stomped on Brenda’s knee, snapping it sideways. This ridiculous woman who thought she could be a threat. To her? To Amber? After everything she’d been through? She hit her then, a backhanded blow, and Brenda twisted and crumpled and rolled over and started screaming for real now, like she’d finally realised just who she had gone up against.

“You’re not like me,” Amber snarled. “This happens to you once a year. But I can do it anytime I
want
.”

Brenda was in no condition to reply. She just kept screaming – wailing, really, a high-pitched wail of pain and self-pity that hurt Amber’s ears and stoked the anger already burning inside.

Amber batted Brenda’s hands away and crouched over her, started hitting. “Stop it,” she ordered. “Stop. Stop making that noise.” Brenda’s blood smeared against the scales that had formed around Amber’s knuckles. The wail stopped after ten seconds or so, but Amber kept punching, just to make sure she had shut up.

When she was done, Amber stood, ignoring the pain from her broken ribs and curling her lip in disgust at the pathetic mess that lay silent and still at her feet.

“Look at our little pride and joy,” said her father from behind her. “Did we or did we not raise her right, wife-of-mine?”

Amber turned without haste, glaring at her parents as they came over.

“We certainly did, husband,” said Betty, smiling. “I like to think this suddenly merciless behaviour comes from my side of the family.”

“Nonsense,” said Bill. “That look in her eyes is all me.”

 

B
UNCH OF GODDAMN SERIAL KILLERS
.

Not even undead serial killers, either. They’d made no deals, they’d been given no powers … they were ordinary, garden-variety psychos, and yet they’d managed to capture Kelly’s whole entire goddamn gang.

It was embarrassing is what it was.

“Isn’t this great?” said the one called Sam, looking out of the window of the
Chronicle
office, across the snow-covered streets of Desolation Hill. “Isn’t it just awesome?”

The cords were digging into Kelly’s wrists and her jaw was hurting from where Sam had hit her, so she wasn’t sharing his enthusiasm. Sam’s fellow serial killers were there to pick up the slack, though.

“Look at them out there,” said Goulder. “See their teeth? Their claws? Demons, man. That’s gonna be us. As soon as this night is over, that’s gonna be us.”

Sure, they had guns, and sure, Kelly and the others had each stumbled across them purely by chance instead of being lured into some kind of ingenious trap … but that was hardly the point. The point was Kelly’s arms were decorated with enemies endowed with supernatural talents, and now it looked like she was going to be killed by four complete amateurs.

“I cannot wait,” said Demer. At least Kelly thought his name was Demer. He was the tallest of the men, and the skinniest. Sam had the worst haircut and Goulder was the heaviest. “I’m so frickin’ pumped for this. Am I ready? I was
born
ready!”

He laughed – a strange, high-pitched giggle that appeared genuine yet sounded false.

Beside her, Linda had her eyes closed and her breathing was slow and steady. Having her hands bound kicked up her claustrophobia, but she was dealing with it. So far.

“Y’all are celebrating before the job is done,” said Bowsher, scowling. Bowsher was the oldest, and the most serious, and definitely the one with the ugliest scowl.

“But now we have demon-girl’s friends!” said Sam. “The Shining Demon will bestow upon us everything we’ve ever wanted! We’ve got this, man!”

“We ain’t got
spit
,” said Bowsher. “Before you start making plans for what happens after, how about we figure out if she’d even be willing to exchange herself for the well-being of these good folk? What does everyone think of
that
little plan?”

The others glanced at each other, chastised.

“I guess that’d be okay,” said Demer.

“You guess?” Bowsher said, marching up to him. “Is that what you said, you little pissant? You
guess
?

Demer wilted. “I mean, you know, it’s, it’s a … It’s what …”

Bowsher cupped his hand to his ear. “What’s what? What’s that? Speak up, asshole!”

“It’s a good plan,” Demer said quietly. “It’s what we should do.”

“You’re damn right,” Bowsher said abruptly, and turned to Kelly and the others. “I’m assuming one of you has her phone number?”

Kelly didn’t say anything. Her friends remained quiet.

Bowsher sighed. “We’re gonna start killing you. If you don’t cooperate, we’re gonna start killing you. We’ll start easy, though. We’ll kill the dog first.”

Two, tied up next to Warrick, growled.

“You stay the hell away from him,” Warrick said.

“And then we’ll kill you,” said Bowsher. “Then it’ll be the chick with the boobs. Then Handsome here. Red, you’re the last one we grabbed, so you’re the last one to go. Let’s see if you can hold out that long.”

“We don’t have her number,” Ronnie said. “We barely know her.”

“You’re lying,” said Sam. “What, you think we stumbled across you by accident? Ronnie? I been watching you. You’re tight with the demon girl.” His eyes flicked to Kelly. “This one, especially.”

Bowsher nodded. “I heard about that, yes, indeed I did. Sam here is something of a Peeping Tom, see, and he reported back to us some hot and steamy lesbian action as seen through a window, oh
hell
, yeah. I am all for that, by the way. Live and let die, that’s my motto. Sam, you okay with gay people?”

“Course,” said Sam. “I’m from New York.”

“I have no idea what that’s got to do with anything, but fair enough. What about you, Demer? Demer? Oh, for Christ’s sake, stop sulking and answer the goddamn question. Do you have a problem with the homosexual person?”

“No,” Demer mumbled.

“Well, thanks for sharing. See that, Red? We are three progressive individuals. Goulder, however, is not nearly so culturally advanced as the rest of us. Goulder, what is your stance on homosexuality?”

“It’s disgusting,” said Goulder. “But lesbians aren’t so bad.”

“Hear that?” Bowsher said. “Even Goulder, who was raised by the most evil of Bible-bashing preachers in this great nation of ours, is onboard as far as lesbians are concerned. Y’all have his blessing, I daresay. But you gotta ask yourself a question here, Red. How do your dirty little fantasies stack up against the lives of you and your friends? Is she worth dying over? Is she worth watching your friends, and your dog, die painful deaths?”

“She doesn’t have a phone,” said Kelly.

“Bullshit.”

“She doesn’t. Phones are too easy to track.”

“Every teenage girl in this goddamn country has a goddamn phone. From this point on, every lie you tell will be a bullet.”

He nodded to Sam, who aimed his gun at Two.

“Do not harm my dog!” Warrick shouted.

Sam switched his aim, pressing the gun against Warrick’s head. “You wanna go first? Fine with me.”

“Warrick,” said Ronnie.

“Do not threaten my dog,” Warrick said through gritted teeth.

Bowsher waited a few seconds. Then, when nobody was shot, he nodded. “Well, okay then, back to what I was saying. The truth from this moment on, you get me?”

Kelly glared at him.

“Does demon girl have a phone?” Bowsher asked.

“Yes,” said Kelly.

“And do you know her phone number?”

“Yes.”

“Good,” Bowsher said, smiling.

Demer walked up at that moment and put his gun to Bowsher’s head and pulled the trigger, and Bowsher’s head came apart in all sorts of stomach-churning ways.

“Holy crap!” Sam yelled.

Goulder stormed over. “What the hell did you do?”

“He shouldn’t have said those things to me,” Demer mumbled.

“So you shot him?
You shot him?

“He pissed me off,” said Demer. “He disrespected me.”

“He was yanking your chain, man! It’s what he did!”

Demer shook his head. “There’s no excuse for disrespect.”

“Demer, you crazy bastard, you can’t go around killing everyone that disrespects you, man!”

Demer narrowed his eyes, and Goulder held up his hands and backed off.

“Hey,” said Goulder, “I am not disrespecting you right now. You have my utmost respect. I do not call you crazy bastard as an insult, or a slight. I use it as a term of endearment. That being said, you just shot and killed Bowsher for words that came out of his mouth in the heat of the goddamn moment.”

“You gotta learn some impulse control,” said Sam.

“That,” Goulder said, nodding. “Impulse control. That’s exactly it. I mean, I get it, man, I do. I’m a serial killer, just like you are. We’ve all got issues. But this is a very special night, one where all our dreams can come true. Now we made a deal, when we got here, that we would work together. The four of us. Four serial killers working towards a common goal. That is unheard of, my friend. We are breaking the mould. So you can’t, and I say this with all due respect, you cannot go around shooting your partners in the goddamn head.”

“He shouldn’t have said those things,” Demer muttered.

“I understand that.”

“I was in a really good mood.”

“I know, man. And he upset you. He ruined your good mood. But the three of us can only go forward if we trust each other. Do you trust us, Demer?”

“I guess.”

“And we wanna trust you. We really do.”

“You can.”

“You just killed Bowsher, dude. Killed him. He was one of us.”

“I just … I got confused,” said Demer. “I got the red mist.”

“Hey, brother, I know. When that red mist settles in, you’re not in your right mind, are you? You can’t be blamed for the things you do.”

“He kept jabbing at me,” said Demer. “Poking. You don’t … you don’t poke the bear.”

“You do not,” Goulder agreed. “You are the bear he should not have poked.”

“I’m sorry I killed him.”

“Hell, that’s okay. Water under the bridge, you know? But, the thing is, we need your word that you’re not gonna turn around and kill us over something stupid that we say.”

“I promise.”

“You do, huh? Sam, that okay with you?”

“Sure,” said Sam. “Whatever.”

“It’s good with me, too. Demer, we’re in this to the end, you get me? We’re in this until all our dreams come true.”

Demer nodded, an uncertain smile playing at the corners of his mouth.

“Good man,” said Goulder. He took the gun from Demer’s hand. “I’m just taking this as a precaution. We don’t want you to get overexcited again, do we? You goddamn nutcase.”

“Hey now,” Demer said, and Goulder shot him in the heart.

Sam shrieked and hopped back on one leg as Demer fell, dead.

Goulder immediately turned. “You know why I had to do that.”

“You killed him!”

“I had to.”

“But what was all that you were saying about us having to trust each other? You made him trust you and you killed him!”

“Demer was unstable, Sam. Jesus, come on. How can we work with a guy who’s liable to shoot us for saying the wrong thing at any moment? Did you trust him not to kill us?”

“No,” said Sam, “but still … that was cold. He was one of us. Four serial killers working towards a common goal. Those were your words, man. Those were your words and then you lulled him into a false sense of security and—”

“I’m gonna need you to calm down, Sam.”

“Or what? You gonna kill me, too?”

They stared at each other.

Goulder laughed. “No, I’m not gonna kill you. Course I’m not. You gonna kill me?”

“Hell, no.”

“So we’re okay? The two of us?”

“We’re good.”

“Bowsher and Demer … we didn’t need them.”

“Bowsher was all mouth,” Sam agreed. “And Demer was nuttier than a squirrel’s jockstrap. Better off without them.”

“Truer words never spoken,” said Goulder. “This is still our night.”

“Yes, it is.”

Goulder turned to Kelly. “Now then, the demon girl’s number?”

Sam put his gun to the back of Goulder’s head and pulled the trigger.

It went
click
.

Goulder turned to him slowly. “You. Dick.”

The blood draining from his face, Sam spun and ran, and Goulder took careful aim. His finger tightened and the shot rang out and he caught Sam in the lower back and Sam grunted, staggered, reached behind himself like he was trying to scratch an itch, and then he fell over and lay still.

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