Desolation (46 page)

He was being burned from the inside out.

The screech was cut off. The demon sighed and died, and fell forward, and the Hound turned his head, looked right through the window.

Suddenly Bill was grabbing Amber and hauling her to her feet. “We have her!” he called. “We have her for you! We did as Astaroth commanded!”

Amber tried to pull away, but Betty smacked her across the face, and when her thoughts managed to rearrange themselves into some form of coherence she was already being dragged out on to the street.

The Hound stood waiting, and when she was close enough he reached for her – and for Bill.

Amber jerked rigid at his touch, so fast that she almost snapped her own neck. She screamed, was only dimly aware of Bill’s screams adding to hers. Her body burned. Every nerve ending was on fire. She could feel her insides starting to boil.

Then it all went away and Amber dropped to the ground, gasping, the pain a memory, the heat fading as fast as it had arrived. Bill was beside her, shaking his head, trying to stand, trying to help his wife, who was dragging the Hound away from them. The Hound twisted, grabbed Betty’s throat, and slammed her to the road. Before his hand could start glowing, Bill charged into him and they went tumbling.

Grimacing, Amber got up. She watched her parents fight the Hound, watched them slash and strike and scramble up when they were knocked down. Then all of a sudden the Hound was coming for her and Amber’s eyes widened and she ducked his grab and raked her claws across his face.

His sunglasses fell and the Hound snarled. She recognised him. It was the one who had broken his own neck to get at her in the forest.

He lunged at her and Bill grabbed him and Betty came in low, ripped the Hound’s kneecap away with one bloody swipe. The Hound dropped to one knee and Betty seized his arm and Bill secured the other one, and Amber stepped forward and thrust her hand through his beard and dug her nails into the meat of his throat.

Then she tore it out.

The Hound made a gurgling sound and her parents released him. Both hands went to try to stem the flow of blood, but it was no use. He fell forward on to his hands and knees, then dropped to the ground and Bill stomped on his head until it splintered into mush.

The sound of a motorcycle made Amber turn, and a single headlight lit up all three of them. Another Hound. Jesus Christ, another one.

The bike stopped and the light cut off, and now Amber could see the Hound astride the machine, watching them.

Her parents ran. They didn’t say anything, didn’t even try to talk their way out of it. They just spun on their heels and ran.

Amber allowed herself a short moment of pleasure at the sight of them fleeing, then looked back at the Hound and felt her insides go cold. He got off the bike. Walked up to her.

She flew at him and then a gunshot rang out and she stumbled as the Hound keeled over backwards, a hole in his head. She turned, expecting to see Milo walking up.

Chief Novak approached, that demonic grin stretching across his face as his gun drifted in her direction. “On your knees. Hands behind your head.”

“Seriously?” she said. “I can’t catch one break? I can’t get a minute without someone new trying to kill me?”

“Apparently not,” said Novak.

Amber looked down the barrel of his gun, and did as he’d instructed.

“This is your doing, I presume,” he said. “Endangering a whole town to save yourself.”

The Hound moved, the hole in his head already healed. He sat up, and Novak shot him in the temple and he flopped back down.

“The Shining Demon himself could just walk on in here and there would be nothing we could do to stop him,” Novak said. “For what? So you could prolong your life for another few weeks? He was always going to find a way to kill you. It was inevitable. You wouldn’t be able to run forever.”

“I don’t care about forever,” Amber muttered. “Just about right now.”

“Now? Now I kill you. With the mayor dead, and you dead, maybe the rest of the Hounds will back off, though I doubt it. Not after this.” Novak holstered his gun, hunkered by the Hound, and gripped him under the chin. His nails grew long and cut into the meat, and with some difficulty he pulled the head off. He straightened up and tossed it away. “But I have to try, don’t I? This is my town. I have a duty to protect it.”

Then she heard it, the sound, and she looked to the junction, hope flaring in her chest. It built and built and then the Charger roared across the intersection.

And it was gone again.

Amber sagged, and looked back up at Novak.

“Unfortunate,” he said. “I would’ve really liked to have seen who was fastest on the draw.”

“It would’ve been Milo,” Amber said. “He reads cowboy books.”

And then, screeching round the corner, the beast of black metal, the Charger, with its red headlights and its engine fuelled by the souls of the dead. It braked, and the engine cut off, and the door creaked wonderfully as Milo climbed out.

He took off his jacket, threw it on the back seat, and started walking towards them.

It was almost odd to see someone not in their demon form, but here he was, tall and mean and looking like someone had just kicked his dog.

Novak reverted to normal, probably to keep things fair, but he kept that smile on his face. His hand hovered by his holstered gun. “Mr Sebastian,” he called, widening his stance, “you are right on time. Amber tells me you read westerns. It might not be high noon, but I’m sure you can appreciate—”

Amber lunged, flattening her hand against Novak’s holster. Immediately, he tried to draw, but the gun caught, and Milo had already fired two shots into his chest. Novak fell to one knee, gasping.

He coughed. Blood sprayed. His chin dipped to his chest, but he raised his eyes to Milo as he reached them. “You cheated …”

Milo ignored him and frowned at Amber. “You okay?”

“Barely.”

Beside them, Novak fell forward, his eyes wide and unseeing.

“Barely okay will do for now,” said Milo, and started walking back to the Charger. “Let’s get going.”

V
IRGIL’S HOUSE WAS DARK
, but he didn’t need the lights on to see.

He undressed to just his socks and underpants, and opened his wardrobe. Sliding the shirts and slacks off to one side, he took the garment bag from the rail and laid it carefully on the bed. He moved slowly, methodically, the way he used to back in the old days, just before he went on set.

The costume, he’d once said to Johnny Carson, informed the character as much as any research. Buttoning those buttons, tying that tie, tilting that hat just right – they were all part of the mask of the character. Except, in the case of the Shroud, the costume also came with an
actual
mask.

He dressed. The shirt first. Then the tie. The trousers and shoes. Vest. Cufflinks.

He became aware of Javier standing in the doorway. “What the hell are you doing?”

“It’s not over yet,” said Virgil, not turning round.

“I know,” said Javier. “And I repeat, what the hell are you doing?”

“Preparing.”

“For what? A reunion show?”

“You feel it, too, don’t you? The Narrow Man is coming.”

“Are you professing to be psychic all of a sudden?”

“Warrick told me about the Demon Road.”

“Yeah? Where’s it go?”

“No, it’s not an actual road. It links people, places …”

“Oh God, is this one of those ‘road of the mind’ things they used to talk about all the time in the sixties?”

“It’s how the world works,” said Virgil. “That’s how I understand it, anyway. Whether it’s coincidence or fate or destiny or divine intervention, we’re all connected. Just being here, right now, will have connected you to forces beyond your comprehension for the rest of your life.”

“Seeing as how, these days, telephones are beyond my comprehension, that’s not too difficult. Why on earth are you wearing those clothes? If the Narrow Man does show up, you’re going to be letting the others handle him, aren’t you? Virgil?”

“They’ve got their hands full.”

“You’re not the Shroud, Virgil.”

Virgil put on his jacket. “Someone has to be.”

“There!” said Javier, jabbing a finger at him. “That is exactly the sort of line you’d utter right before an act break! For God’s sake, you’re an old man. You understand me? We can talk and talk about how we’re still relevant, how we still matter – and you know what? We’re one hundred per cent right about both those things. But we
are
old. Our bodies are slower and our minds are clogged with so much experience that they’re starting to spring leaks. Your mind, Virgil, in particular has started to spring some pretty major ones.”

“He killed a boy,” Virgil said. “The Narrow Man.”

Javier nodded. “Yes. He killed a bully. You heard what Austin told us. A thug. A psychopath in waiting.”

“Still a boy, Javier. In many ways, still a child. Those others – Ronnie and Kelly and Linda and Warrick, Milo and Amber – yes, they’re young and strong and they do this sort of thing a lot … but they didn’t prevent that, did they? It slipped away from them, and the Narrow Man killed a child.”

“It’s not your responsibility.”

“I saw Oscar Moreno kill my neighbour. I’ve known who the Narrow Man is for the past week. If it’s not my responsibility, then whose is it?”

“I … I don’t know, Virgil. But you can’t do this. He’ll kill you.”

“If he does, I’ll be sure to take him with me.”

“No, you won’t. He’s a monster. He’ll kill you without thinking about it. You won’t get near him.”

“But I’ll try,” said Virgil, folding the mask and putting it in his pocket. “I’ll try, goddammit.”

Javier shook his head and walked away, and Virgil picked up the hat, but didn’t put it on. The clothes felt good. Maybe a little tighter in some places, maybe a little looser in others, but they felt good. Felt right.

He visited his collection of props and costumes from the show, and very carefully folded a coat and slipped it into an overnight bag. Then he did another check of the windows and doors, and Linda came looking for him.

“You’re looking dapper,” she said.

“One does one’s best.”

She smiled. “Milo’s back.”

He nodded. “I’ll let him in.”

He left the overnight bag in the kitchen and went into the garage, waited for the Charger to pull all the way in, and then he shut the garage door. Amber got out first and he stepped back, quite involuntarily. This was the closest he’d got to her when she was in demon form, and she was quite intimidating. Still, he was glad to see her.

“That’s everyone,” he said when Milo got out of the car. “Ronnie and the others got back a few minutes after you headed off again.”

“Is Kelly with them?” Amber asked.

“Yes, indeed, all present and accounted for, dog included.”

Amber nodded, pleased with the answer, but looking conflicted nonetheless. After a moment’s hesitation, she changed back into the normal girl with the bright smile Virgil had come to know. She went to walk past him and he hugged her.

“Oh,” she said. “Um. Okay. I like your suit.”

“Thank you.” He gave her a squeeze, then stepped away. “We were worried about you,” he said. “Kelly, especially.”

Amber chewed her lip.

“Ah, and I have this for you,” he said, taking the brass key from his pocket and handing it over. “Austin had the presence of mind to keep it on him. Clever young man.”

“Yeah,” said Amber, only half listening to him.

“Into the house, you two,” Virgil said. “It’s cold in here and I’m an old man.”

He ushered them through the door, into the warmth.

“Stay away from the windows,” he reminded them. “And no lights, please. If any neighbours are around, they’ll come knocking, and they won’t be gentle.”

They headed for the dark living room, smelling hot chocolate and coffee before they’d even reached it. Austin sat in one of the armchairs. Linda and Javier shared the couch and Warrick sat on the floor, cuddling up with Two. Ronnie stood by the window, peeking through the curtains occasionally, and Kelly was on her feet the moment Amber walked in. Everyone had a steaming mug either in their hands or close by.

Kelly and Amber looked at each other like they had something important to say that neither of them could voice. Virgil shrugged to himself. Young people.

“All right then,” he said, “here’s how things stand at the moment. Mayor Jesper and Chief Novak are dead. Some of us may have reached an accord with the other police officers, but don’t count on it lasting. The demon in chains—”

“Naberius,” said Linda.

“—Naberius, thank you, he has had his sacrifice – a classmate of Austin’s.”

“He wasn’t a classmate,” Austin muttered.

“One of the demons after Amber is also dead,” said Virgil.

“Two of them, actually,” said Amber. “There’s only my parents now, and I’m pretty sure they’ve already left town.”

Virgil nodded. “Okay then. And how many Hounds do we know are dead? Kelly, there’s the one Milo killed, and the one you saw hanged. That’s two.”

“Novak killed one,” said Amber, “and I killed one with my parents. Family time, I guess. I saw a bunch of demons go after another one, but I don’t know if they managed to kill him.”