The Demon Conspiracy (44 page)

I couldn’t imagine what Angie had in mind,
so I peeked and saw all sorts of ideas in her head, some wilder
than others. Everything from imaginary demon traps to video
surveillance at every corner to machineguns mounted in the hallways
to an armored panic room in the basement. Man, she wasn’t kidding!
Angie was fired up for a fight, almost like Granny.

“Don’t forget you promised to go by the
emergency room today,” I said firmly. “How do your ribs feel?”

“I kept ice on them all night. They’re a
little better and I doubt they’re broken. I just hate to waste my
time in the ER, Kelly. They take forever unless you’re half dead.
But a promise is a promise.”

When we arrived at the cul-de-sac there was
a small fleet of vehicles parked in front of our house. Some
belonged to the contractors that Angie had called and the rest were
with the police. Yellow tape was strung up all around the property,
even down into the woods near the drainage pipe. The damage to the
house looked worse in the daylight.

“Crime scene tape,” said Angie, as if she
were thinking aloud. “Is it too much to hope that the police might
believe our story?”

A young female uniformed
officer immediately approached us. “I’m sorry, ma’am, but we’re in
the middle of an investigation here. Oh, Mrs. McCormick! I didn’t
recognize you. You can park in the driveway. But please park
beside
the van, not
behind it. We’ve got a tow truck coming to clear it out of
here.”

“You should know my insurance company won’t
cover any of this, including the van,” said Angie. “They won’t pay
for the tow either, but I can write you a check.”

“There’s no charge for the tow. The van is
evidence.”

“Evidence? So you believe us?”

The officer shrugged noncommittally. “Mrs.
McCormick, I realize you need to go into your house and deal with
the contractors, but you’ll need to wait until our crime-scene
investigators are done. Perhaps you could show the outside of the
house first?”

“We can do that.”

The officer nodded politely and moved a
squad car out of the way. Angie parked and we got out. Glass from
the minivan windows crunched under our shoes.

“Your poor van,” I said. “Do you think it’s
totaled?”

“Oh
yeah
,” said Angie. “Listen, when
they finally let us inside, go to your room and gather up about a
week’s worth of clothes and whatever you’ll need for school. We’ll
be staying at the motel until the house is ready. In the mean time
I need to speak with the contractors about fixing this
mess.”

“Okay.”

I looked on as Angie walked up to the mostly
male group and introduced herself. She shook hands all around.

“I’ll explain what I want
done while I show you the damage,” said Angie. “We can’t go inside
until the police leave, but there’s plenty on the outside we can
talk about first. Just so you’ll know, I want more done to this
house than the obvious repair work.
Lots
more. Money is no
object.”

One contractor, a tall,
bearded man wearing a
Blandford
Construction
hoodie, stepped up to her.
“Pardon me for asking,” he said politely. “But did you get hit by a
tornado?”

“No, Mr. Blandford,” said
Angie. “We got hit by demons, which is why police investigators are
all over the place. But it’s a very long story. Now if you’ll
follow me you can see where the window over the garage is
completely missing. We need to replace it. In fact we need to
replace all the windows and doors. But I want them stronger than
before. In fact I want them
indestructible
.”

***

While I waited for the
police to let us in the house, I studied the dozen or so
crime-scene technicians who were on site. An FBI forensics team was
working with the local police. FBI! Who brought
them
in? I tuned in to some of the
thoughts and conversations around me, starting with two women
working in the foyer.

“It’s blood,” said a large woman taking
samples off the floor. “I’m sure of it.”

Another woman on the stairs leaned over her.
“Black blood? What causes that?”

“I don’t know. Could be something
genetic.”

“If that’s the case it’ll be unique DNA.
These guys could be easy to track down.”

Easy to track down?
I thought to myself.
She
was tripping unless she knew something I didn’t
.

Across the yard I noticed two more
technicians exploring the area in the woods around the drainage
pipe that went under the road. They took photographs and made
measurements and wrote stuff down in a notebook.

“There’s no way that thing
came through this pipe,” said one of the techs. “It was just too
damn big
.
”

“I’m with you. But the footprints lead right
here and we’ve searched this area thoroughly. There’s not another
print anywhere beyond this pipe entrance. Evidence shows the
creature went inside.”

“It would’ve had to slither like a snake to
fit in there. Even then…I don’t know. Let’s take comparative
measurements off the video when we get back. I want to know exactly
how big that thing was.”

Did he say video? I probed
inside his mind.
What video?

The guy clearly thought his coworker had
said it. “You know what video, the one the senator’s kid made with
his cell phone. I saw it. Man, it was freaky.”

“You talkin’ to me?” said the other tech,
looking up surprised. “I saw it too, remember?”

“Well, you asked like you didn’t know what I
was talking about.”

“I didn’t ask. I didn’t say anything at
all.”

While the men argued over who had spoken and
who hadn’t, I got excited. Mathew had recorded what happened last
night! Without trying to get anymore information from the police I
sprinted over to Dr. Parrish’s house and knocked on the front
door.

About a minute passed before I heard
footsteps inside. When Granny opened the door I rushed in and gave
her a huge hug.

“Granny!”

“Hey, sweetie.” Granny hugged me back.

Dr. Parrish came up behind Granny and patted
my head. “Sorry I nearly burned you and your little friend up last
night,” he said, laughing. “Who would have guessed demons liked
fire so much?”

I also hugged Parrish, which clearly
surprised him. “Of course they like fire,” I said. “I mean they’re
demons. Hey, is it true? Did Mathew make a video?”

Granny and Parrish looked at each other.
“That’s supposed to be top secret,” said Parrish sheepishly. “Who
told you?”

“I heard the police talking about it. What
did it show?”

“Well, it showed the damage on the house,”
said Parrish as he went over what he remembered. “And it showed
you, Angie and Melissa on the garage roof fighting those monsters.
I think the FBI Agent in Charge was impressed with the way you guys
held your own, at least until they outflanked you. The last thing
on the video showed Angie getting picked up by your buddy with the
claws.”

“The big one’s name was Klawfinger. That’s
what the others called him.” I clapped my hands excitedly. “This is
great! We have proof! Now we can get the police to go back in the
cave and get the camcorder! It’s got everything on it, even that
salesman guy, Mr. Deel. He needs to be in jail, you know. He’s up
to something.”

“Yeah, maybe,” said Granny. “But you know
how cops are.”

I blinked up at her. I had no idea how cops
were. I knew nothing about them.

Granny tried to explain. “Well, er, they can
be a little difficult to convince sometimes. Don’t expect them to
go running down into the cave just because of a video.”

“Let’s face it,” said
Parrish. “They didn’t believe a word we said until Mathew took out
his cell phone and showed them what he recorded. Smart kid, just
like his daddy. That’s when the cops got serious. Once they figured
out Mathew was Senator Dunlop’s son, they got
real
serious. Mathew gave the whole
thing credibility.”

“Mathew called his parents and told them
everything,” said Granny. “Fifteen minutes later the FBI showed up
and took over the investigation. About three hours ago the Dunlops
came here all the way from Camp David and took Mathew and Travis
home with ‘em. It was still dark and the boys couldn’t hold their
eyes open. We figured they’d sleep most of the day at the Dunlop’s
house and at least they’d be in a bed. I don’t know where they’d
sleep around here.”

“So who’s got the video? Do you? I want to
see it!”

Granny laughed. “You’ll never see that
video, little girl, not since the FBI took Mathew’s phone. It’ll
probably become top secret, like Area 51 and Bigfoot.”

About then Angie showed up. She met both
Granny and Parrish with a hug. “One of the contractors told me he
could have us back in the house in two weeks, maybe less. That’ll
give us time to get ready for Christmas. You won’t believe the
security we’re going to have! The house will be like Fort Knox when
they’re completely done. I just wish I could talk to Chris about
the money we have to spend.”

“What’s stopping you?” said Parrish.

“Well, Dr. Sanderlyn and that mean nurse, of
course. They told me not to call them, that they’d call me when it
was time to see Chris.”

“It’s been, what, a week since Chris went in
there?” said Granny. “There must be some improvement. You should
call anyway.”

“I can’t,” said Angie, shaking her head.
“Mom, they’re professionals! Besides, his nurse is kind of, well,
she’s kind of scary.”

“I could fix the nurse for ya,” said
Granny.

“I don’t want you beating up his staff.

“Angie, this is utter
bulldust! You just stood up to a whole host of demons to protect
the ones you love. It’s on the video! If you ask me you need to
give ol’ Doc Sanderlyn a call right now. Treat
him
like a demon—he’ll get the
message. After all, you’re the one paying the bill. Tell him you
need to see Chris immediately, no matter what condition he’s in. If
you can stand up to demons, you can sure handle one old
doctor.”

The pep talk gave Angie some confidence. She
raised her chin and pounded her fist into her palm. “You’re right,
mom!” she said with firmness in her voice. “It’s time to find out
about my husband!”

38

PADDED CELL

DR. SANDERLYN

Dr. Sanderlyn entered the
padded cell in Ward A with more caution than usual. This was the
cell where they kept Chris McCormick. Sanderlyn skimmed the
background notes he had taken on McCormick when the police first
brought him to Sunnyside.
McCormick had
survived an earthquake while inside a cave. He came out of the
cave, utterly changed, according to his wife. He stopped going to
work and stopped calling in sick.
Dr.
Sanderlyn thought the possibility was strong that Chris suffered
from post traumatic stress syndrome. He read further.
A few weeks later he invented Majik Juice. Then
he had a breakdown and tried to go back into the
cave
. Sanderlyn shook his head. The entire
scenario was a collection of strange and seemingly disconnected
events. What kind of therapy could help that man?

Admittedly McCormick’s case was unusual, but
certainly not unprecedented. After some thorough research into this
type of abrupt personality change Dr. Sanderlyn discovered a number
of similar cases that had occurred over the last ninety years. A
few of the earliest cases suggested demonic possession as a
possible cause, but only after vague references to some “most
unusual and unexplainable events.” Sanderlyn chalked those
interpretations up to psychology still being a “fledgling” science
at the time. The study of human behavior using true scientific
investigative techniques was only just getting started way back
then.

No
, thought Dr. Sanderlyn,
demonic
possession was an excuse put forth by religious zealots and
crackpots. Most likely Chris McCormick’s problem was a type of
sudden onset paranoid schizophrenia, where the behavior just sort
of kicked in. But why had it kicked in at all? What had happened in
that cave that would make a man change so completely?

Chris McCormick had no personal or family
history of mental illness. It seemed to have come out of nowhere,
almost as soon as he’d finished inventing that fruit drink. Even
though he still had a full-time job as an English teacher at
Chantilly High School, McCormick firmly believed he’d finished his
work and needed to go live in a cave. Not just any cave, either.
Pandora’s Cave, the one where he’d been trapped for many hours
after the quake. Dr. Sanderlyn scanned the latest notes he’d taken
and took up a metal stool that was always left outside the door. He
put the stool in the center of the room and sat down.

If McCormick really struggled and stretched
his restraints to the max, he might be able to make it to within a
few feet of the stool, but no closer. Just in case, Sanderlyn
signaled to the powerfully built male orderly who’d come in behind
him to take up a position not far away. No use chancing it with
McCormick. They’d had problems with him already. The guy could be
downright dangerous when he got upset.

Sanderlyn studied his patient with
experienced eyes. Chris lay on the padded floor curled into a ball.
His upper body was tightly wrapped in a straight jacket, with
light, metal chains to restrict his movement. Sanderlyn had treated
hundreds of patients over the years and as a result he pretty well
knew what to expect. Sure enough, Chris pretended to ignore him,
like he always did. Some behavior patterns never changed. But Chris
knew he was there, Sanderlyn was sure of it. He’d seen him twitch
when the door opened.