Infernal Revelation : Collected Episodes 1-4 (9781311980007) (21 page)

"Lily, there's nothing you can do. Nothing I
can do. I can't help you."

She couldn't believe her ears. "Dad--"

His eyes red and wild, he turned to her,
grasping handfuls of his hair.

She backed away -- he looked manic, crazy,
scarcely like the man who raised her.

"It's too late!" He said. "I... did the best
I could. I'm sorry. It's out of my hands now."

"No, Daddy, not you." She felt her heart
break, felt tears in her eyes. I need you. You always know what to
do, what to say, how to make things better."

"I'm sorry." His voice was but a whisper.
"I'm sorry. It's over. Please go."

"I don't understand!"

Her father muttered something.

"What?"

He looked up at her, his eyes bloodshot, his
voice dead. "It was a mistake. You were a mistake. Getting close
was a mistake. Bill was right. We should have let them take all of
you."

His words struck like poison needles, each
one numbing her heart.

"Please go," he whispered. "I don't want to
have to watch him kill you. Please go."

She backed away, her mind a chaotic echo of
her father's words, walking with mechanical steps back down the
stairs to the living room.

Just like that, she'd lost the last vestiges
of her old life. The one foundation she'd had, the rock-solid
belief that her father, that her parents loved her and would never
ever abandon her had turned out to be a lie, just like everything
else in her small town.

She had nothing. She was nothing. Maybe it
would be better to let Porter kill her and end this joke of an
existence.

A groan from the couch caught her attention.
Barny was still out of it, still bleeding all over the pillow she'd
embroidered with her mother back in grade school, the one that said
Bless This Happy Home.

She couldn't give up. Maybe the Bakers'
happy home was a lie, but it had been real while she'd lived it. It
was a dream that was ending, but that didn't make the memories any
less genuine. And now she had a new family, brothers and sisters
who still needed her. Some of them didn't have those memories, had
never even had the illusion of a happy healthy family life.

She didn't care what Deacon Baker said. You
didn't abandon family.

She picked Barny up. He wasn't heavy.

He was her brother.

CHAPTER FOUR

The further the
pick-up drove from Laton, the better Gideon felt about having
stolen it. It was the first time Gideon had ever boosted a car, but
the fact that Chet Miller was a colossal prick helped soothe any
lingering guilt he might have felt. The last of it was expunged
when he remembered how the asshole had thrown his lunch across the
cafeteria Freshman year as a declaration that they were no longer
friends, that Chet had signed on with Barny's crew.

Delilah was sitting next to him in the cab,
looking out towards town or at the dirt-bike they'd loaded into the
back of the truck. He was responsible for her now. He'd always felt
that way, of course, but now it really was just the two of
them.

Did this count as kidnapping? They were both
minors, but Delilah was three years younger than he was. He could
be tried as an adult, and Texan juries took a dim view on men
absconding with fourteen-year-old girls. He didn't know if "but I'm
gay" would carry clemency with them, or just make things worse.

Of course, he could probably just literally
walk out of jail, but he didn't want anyone thinking he was some
kind of pervert child molester.

"Cops," Delilah said.

"So soon?" Gideon checked his mirror,
spotting the alternating red and blue lights coming up the road
behind them. "Maybe it's not about us."

Delilha turned in her seat to regard him
over the bridge of her glasses. "Really? You honestly think that
this isn't about us?"

"Shit." He stepped on the gas.

The truck accelerated, but it was no match
for one of Laton's police cruisers. Gideon's eyes flicked back and
forth between the road and the lights looking larger in his
rear-view mirror.

***

To Lily's great
relief, Barny did not die in her arms.

She made it all the way to the Hospital
without seeing Porter. To keep this small advantage, she resisted
her initial impulse to just smash in through the lobby windows and
instead opted for the more stealthy "crush the lock in my bare
hand" approach.

The building was strangely
empty, bereft of doctors, nurses, patients, and even janitors.
Maybe they'd been cleared out in anticipation of Porter's arrival.
The idea that her father would bring such a destructive monster to
Laton just to catch
them
, heedless of the damage he was causing, wasn't something
Lily felt like dwelling on.

She brought Barny up to one of the second
floor rooms that offered a decent view of possible approaches, and
did her best to clean and dress his wound. What little first-aid
training she'd picked up as an athlete didn't cover gunshots, but
at least she could slow the bleeding. Leaving the buckshot in his
shoulder was probably a bad idea, but she had no idea how to get
them out.

After wrapping his shoulder in linens she
stood by the window for a good long while, watching the house-fire
burn in the distance, wondering why the Laton Volunteer Fire
Department wasn't putting it out.

A groan brought her attention back to
Barny.

He was awake, staring at the ceiling.

"Why did you save me?" he asked.

"Sorry," she said.

"You should have let me die."

"You're not that big an asshole. Do you want
some water?"

"I don't deserve water."

Her lip curled, and she turned to the sink
to avoid striking him. "Shut the fuck up with your pity party.
There's a crazy motherfucker trying to kill us. I don't have time
to be your therapist and your nursemaid."

Lily brought him a plastic cup of water,
which he drank without comment.

"Do you know my folks?" he asked.

"No."

He turned his head towards the window. "I
won't bore you with the details. It's pretty stereotypical, really.
Always pushing me harder, never letting me slack."

"My parents were the same way."

He chuckled, cutting off with a painful
wince. "I doubt that. My folks were motivational in the 'better
call child-protective services' kinda way."

Lily stared. "Why didn't you?"

"Pride. That's always been my weakness,
Lilith."

"Don't call me that."

"Why not? It's your name."

"My name is Lily."

"No it isn't."

"Don't start, or I
will
leave you
here."

"I was raised to be the best in everything.
And when I wasn't... well."

She shook her head. "Barny."

"If you want me to call you Lily, you'll
call me Barnabas."

"Why?"

"Let's say it's symbolic. I'm letting go of
that old life. The Barny life. I'm ready to be Barnabas."

"Whatever you say, Barnabas."

"You should try it."

"I'll stick to Lily."

"Suit yourself."

She looked down at her feet, then up again.
"I'm sorry."

"Lily's fine," he said.

"No, about your... about the way your family
was. I always thought you were just an asshole."

"I
am
just an asshole," Barnabas said.
"My family life is a reason, not an excuse."

"If you'd had loving parents--"

"I'd still be an asshole. It's in my nature,
as Jezebel would say. What God created me to be."

"That's a cop out," she said.

"Think so?"

"Yes. There's no excuse to accept what we're
at as the best we can be."

"Your father tell you that?"

"Yes."

"The same father who just refused to help
us?"

She looked away, pain welling up in her
heart, tears in her eyes. "You heard that?"

"Some of it." He paused. "Lily, they were
never our parents. They were our caretakers--"

The shattering of glass downstairs sent
fear-spiked adrenaline through her system. "Porter! He's found
us!"

Barnabas grabbed her wrist in a surprisingly
strong grip. "Go! Head to El Paso. Meet up with Delilah and
Gideon."

"I'm not going to leave you," she said.

"Don't be stupid," he said. "You'll never
outrun him carrying me."

She pulled her wrist out
of his grip. "I'm
not
going to leave you."

***

Porter paused in the
lobby to check his revolver, snapping its cylinder open with a
flick of his wrist. This was turning out to be more fun than he'd
hoped.

The hunts were getting, for lack of a better
word, dull. Pointless, really, without any element of challenge in
them. They'd become simple tasks, favors for Bob, but in no way
fulfilling. On the other hand, sure, he was killing monsters. Doing
the Lord's work.

But hell if it hadn't used to be more
interesting, back when he didn't know what he was doing. When he
was still getting used to these gifts. When there was still the
thrill of risking his life.

The fire had been unexpected, but not
terribly dangerous. That was nice.

And the girl leading him on this chase?
Well. It was something. He didn't feel threatened, but it was at
least a small challenge.

Unexpected, like the fire extinguisher that
smashed his nose in and chipped one of his teeth as he looked up
from checking the chambers in his revolver.

***

Lily hadn't expected
the fire extinguisher to actually hit Porter. She'd just hurled it
at him as soon as she turned the corner and saw him standing there
with the gun.

From the way he'd gone sprawling, bullets
flying from his revolver, evidently he hadn't expected it
either.

She didn't stick around to watch him get
back up again. Of course he'd get back up again. It was what
monsters did.

The wind of Lily's passage sent papers
ripped from bulletin boards flying in her wake.

Porter hit her hard from behind, shoulder
checking her, and she went spinning out of control. She was running
too fast to simply stop, and crashed sideways through a door into
the nurses' station.

He was after her almost immediately, his
face a bloody mess with a broad smile. His breath came in ragged
gasps, a string of crimson drool stretching from the corner of his
mouth. His eyes were devoid of sanity, filled instead with a manic
savage glee.

In a blink he'd gone from the doorway to
right in front of her, copper-smelling breath filling her enhanced
senses. His gnarled hands closed around her throat, each
almost-laughing breath almost deafening.

She gurgled and clawed at the hands around
her neck, legs kicking at him ineffectually. The edges of her
vision began to gray out, and she grasped around for something --
anything she could use to stop him.

Her fingers found what felt like a grouping
of smooth cylinders. With the last of her strength she closed her
hand around their cluster, reversed her grip, and slammed them up
towards his face.

Porter gave a scream and let go, hands
scrabbling for the pens she'd plunged into the side of his face.
Not all were facing the right way and uncapped, but enough had been
jammed into his face to cause him a great deal of distress.

She didn't waste any time, but leapt into
him, bowling him over, knocking him out of her way.

His inarticulate scream of rage sent her
dashing on her way, back through the lobby.

Out front a truck pulled up in front of the
building, turning sideways, skidding to a stop.

Derek's truck.

"Oh no." She glanced back over her shoulder
to where Porter was still writhing.

He pulled a pen out of his face and turned
to her, as if feeling her gaze. The look of hate on his face was
almost enough to kill on its own.

"Oh, Derek, no."

She raced out into the parking lot.

***

When the patrol car
drew near enough, Gideon could clearly see his foster-father's
determined face through the passenger-side of the
windshield.

"It's my dad!"

"What?" Delilah shaded her eyes against the
glare of the patrol car's halogen headlights. "Why?"

"He's psychotic."

"Don't pull over!"

"No shit."

There was a crack and a loud buzzing sound
outside Gideon's window. He glanced in the rear-view mirror and saw
that Bill was leaning from his window, revolver in hand.

"He's
shooting
at us?" His driver-side
mirror exploded.

"Look out!" Delilah grabbed the wheel and
spun it to the side.

The truck lurched into the left lane,
cutting off the patrol car as it tried to pull alongside them.

Gideon flinched as the sheriff shot at them
again. Delilah screamed, covering her ears. The red-head glanced
down at her, seeing how terrified she was, then set his jaw and
decelerated.

The patrol car swerved and started to pull
up alongside them again.

"What are you doing?" Delilah asked.

Gideon slowed further, enough that he could
look Bill in the eye.

The sheriff had turned himself around,
half-way out through the window, his face a twisted mask of hate.
He brought the revolver around again, leveling it, and for a frozen
moment Gideon found himself staring down the barrel.

He yanked the wheel to the side, and Sheriff
Cermak barely had time to slip back into the patrol car before the
truck smashed into its side. The car went rocketing off as the road
curved, soaring off the small embankment into the desert.