The Devil's Beat (The Devil's Mark) (28 page)

Not understanding what was driving him, he crept through the room to the edge of the shattered door leading into the lockup. He finally heard something. A quiet slurping and smacking sound. He froze in recognition. The sound finally stopped. After a few moments of indecision, Vlad's Russian-laden voice called out, “Is safe to come in Max Faust.”

Max peered around the door into the heart of destruction. The entire confinement area was destroyed. There were holes in concrete walls and twisted steel bars scattered across the floor. In the middle of the debris, Vlad was sitting slumped next to Josh's still body. Josh's head was tilted at an unnatural angle and his throat was a mass of ragged flesh. There was an uneven coating of blood, fur, vomit and gore over Vlad, and truthfully, the entire place. Vlad looked at Max, his sad face difficult to see through the blood. “I am ashamed. I have foresworn my parole. What would you have of me?”

Max hadn't a clue. He stood there soaking in the most horrendous sights and smells imaginable, and he had not a single fricking clue. Truthfully, his brain was so frozen up, he didn't actually even process the terrible scene and its worse smell. Before he could snap himself out of it, Josh's head snapped back into position, his neck knitted itself back together, and he drew in a shuddering breath.

Josh sat up with a big grin on his face. He said, “That was the most totally awesome thing I have ever seen!” He jumped up and looked at Vlad, then he frowned briefly and said with disappointment, “But I missed the end! What happened, dudes? Did we win?” He looked expectantly at Vlad and then at Max.

Max said, “Uh, Vlad threw the Chief all the way through the front window and then he ran away.”

“That is so mishegas cool!” Josh stood up, looked around and then reached into the general gore and pulled up a human leg. “Whoa!” He looked at Vlad. “Dude! You rock!” He offered his hand to Vlad and pulled the vampire to his feet.

Max said, “And then he killed you and drank your blood.”

Josh looked thoughtful for a minute and then shook his head. “Bummer, I don't remember that, either.” Max really hadn't expected that reaction, but he was too tired to actually care. Josh looked around. “Hey dudes, we better make with the vamosa before The Man gets back.”

It was an excellent suggestion, so the three of them turned and made their way back out through the destroyed front office and out to Max's car, which was still running. Before he got in, Max noticed that Josh still had the sheriff's leg by the ankle. He said, “Josh, you can't bring the leg with you. Throw it back inside.”

“Dude, this is a great souvenir! We could, like, stuff it and put it on the wall in the music room!” His face fell under the onslaught of Max's glare. “Okay, okay! Don't throw a rod, man.” He sighed in disappointment and tossed the leg back through the broken window.

Max was shakily driving back to their motel, trying to ignore the vile smell, which filled the car when Josh looked at the blood from various hands and clothes coating the interior. “Dude, sorry about your car. We're going to have to torch it, ya know.”

***

Max silently watched his car as it burned on the side of the lonely country road next to a pond they had found. Max, Josh, Vlad, and Mike all stood by with buckets full of water in case the fire escaped from the area they had carefully drenched with water. When the fire burned down enough that there was no possibility of it igniting a brush fire, the four piled uncomfortably into Mike's extended cab pickup. Since Vlad was shorter than Mike, and Josh was even shorter than that, Max rode in the front seat next to Mike.

As they were driving home in the fading glow of the afternoon, Mike said, “Man, your life is weird, bud.”

Max looked back at him. “It's yours, too.”

Mike nodded, thoughtfully chewing on his lower lip.

Any further conversation was cut short when Max's phone rang. Without thinking, he answered it. Alice's lovely voice came through the speaker. It was tinged with reproach. She said, “Max! Thank God! Don't you ever listen to your voice mails?”

“Oh, sorry Alice, it's been crazy. What's up?”

“Listen, you said you owed me one for picking you up the other night, right?”

Max sensed something was coming. Cautiously, he said, “Yesss…”

“Well, I need to collect it tonight. I've been called in for an emergency shift at the hospital tonight, and I haven't been able to find anyone who can sit for the girls. Would you be willing to come over, and sit with them till I get off at 2:00? I can be home by no later than 2:30. I could almost leave them with Jayne Ann, but with this deranged killer on the loose, I just can't take the chance.”

Max's heart skipped a beat. “Deranged killer?”

“Yes! Where have you been all day? Everybody is talking about it. Someone went to the police station and killed the Chief. Maisy told me that Bethanne had told her that the Chief had been hacked apart and that there was blood and gore everywhere.”

Max inhaled a quick breath. “Do they know who did it?”

“I don't know. Since the Chief is dead, they called in the County Sheriff. They are supposed to be investigating this. I heard they brought in dogs.”

Max stomped down his panic. He said, “Oh. Well, I uh, hope they catch the killer.”

“Well Annabel's niece knows Jenny, who is best friends with the Sheriff's wife and she said that he said that it was only a matter of time before the killer was caught.”

“Oh, uh, well I'm, uh, really glad to hear that.”

“So can you?”

“Can I what?”

“Come over and sit for my girls?”

“Uh, well, sure... I guess so, but I really don't know much about kids.”

“Don't worry Max, they won't bite, and they will be asleep most of the time anyway.”

“Okay, if you say so. When do I need to be there?”

“About an hour?” said Alice hesitantly.

“Okay, I'll see you then.”

After the call Max took a few deep breaths to calm himself, then told the others what he was going to be doing with his evening.

When Max arrived a few minutes late, he was in a bit better shape. The owners of the motel were all set to throw him out, but money doth soothe the savage motel owner and, after paying them an extra three grand for cleaning above and beyond the call of duty and fixing the bed, Max had showered, shaved, and eaten a quickie-mart sandwich. Alice answered the door in her white nurse’s uniform. She invited him in, introduced him to Katelyn, her middle daughter (who'd always made herself scarce before), thanked him, gave a few brief instructions, kissed each girl and then left in a rush.

Max found himself standing in the small front room, sweating under the scrutiny of three little girls. The house had no air conditioning, but the three of them looked comfortable without it. They had been called out and lined up by their mother to greet Max before she left. Max was distinctly uneasy under their steady gaze. It didn't help when Lily asked Max in her little voice, “Are you in love with Mama?”

“Uh, well, I like your mother quite a lot, but we’re just friends.”

Jayne Ann snorted her opinion and walked back to her room. Katelyn followed her, leaving Max alone with Lily. She looked up at him. “Do you want to play dolls with me?”

“Uh, sure, but I've never played with dolls. You'll have to tell me what to do.”

She digested this soberly. “Oh. How come you never played with dolls? Were you too poor to have dolls?” She took his hand and dragged him into the hall that lead to the house's small bedrooms.

“Well, no, but I always preferred to be outside or to play my guitar.”

“Jayne Ann has a guitar. She's supposed to practice every night, but Mama always has to fight her. This is me and Katelyn's room. Jayne Ann gets her own room 'cause she’s the oldest, but I don't mind sharing. My Mama says that we are supposed to help people more unfortunate than us and give them my old dolls and stuff. Does your Mama make you give away your stuff?”

“Uh no. My mama's dead.”

“Oh. My papa's dead. Did your mama get eaten by a wild animal, too?”

Max swallowed, knowing the real story. While Lily went into her small closet, he said, “No, she died of cancer several years ago.”

“Oh.” She came back with a plastic baby doll and handed it to Max. “Here. This is Ellie.” The doll's hair had been randomly cut to different lengths and was sans clothes. Max took the doll hesitantly, feeling silly that he was feeling silly. He held the doll. “Hello Ellie, how are you today?”

Lily said, “She says she's been having fun. She only talks to me. No one else can hear her.”

For the next hour or so, Max received instructions in the proper way to play dolls from Lily. Somewhere during that time span, Katelyn came quietly into the room and curled up on the second bed. She quietly refused to join in, but she watched the other two intently.

A little before eight, Lily announced that it was time for them to get ready for bed. She told Max that she and Katelyn always got to have milk and cookies before they brushed their teeth and went to bed. Max accompanied them into the simple kitchen and watched as they served themselves. The kitchen was like the rest of the house: plain, cluttered with too much stuff, a little worn, but clean. After the two had brushed their teeth, Katelyn headed for their room, but Lily pounded on Jayne Ann's door. “Mom said you gotta practice, Jay!”

Jayne Ann mumbled something from the other side, which apparently satisfied Lily. She turned round and bounced into her room. She jumped onto her bed and pulled the sheet up around herself. Max turned off the light. “Goodnight Lily, Goodnight Katelyn.”

Lily said, “Max?”

“Yes?”

“Can you sit with us for a little while? It helps me go to sleep.”

Max agreed and sat down in the hot, darkened room. There was a small window allowing the light from a waning moon to flood into the room. When Max's eyes adjusted, he could see quite well. Lily looked up at Max in the moonlight. She said, “Max, how come you sweat so much?”

“Well, because it's hot in here. I'm used to having air conditioning.”

“Oh... We used to have air conditioning.”

“You did?”

“Yes,” she said seriously. “Then burglars came and stole it, and now it doesn't work.”

Katelyn surprised Max by adding, “They didn't steal the air conditioner, they stole the heat exchanger for the copper.”

“They stole the copper?” asked Max. He had never heard of such a thing.

“Yes, they can get almost $2 per pound if they sell it down in Gulfport.”

“Wow,” said Max, uncertain what else to say.

After that, the two girls were silent and were soon asleep. Max stayed until he was sure they down for the count and then headed back out to the family room. He sat down in a worn, but comfortable, recliner and rested for a moment.

He was lost in thought, comparing the reality of this family, especially Lily's open trust, with what had been happening to him these last few months. It was a jarring discontinuity. Here was life: real, solid, fragile. A single mother raising a family on limited resources in a small town. Her love and determination had pulled them through tragedy as a family. How could you reconcile that with pacts with the Devil? How did you fit this in with monsters, ghosts, and centuries-old quests for death and vengeance? It certainly seemed hopelessly beyond Max's capabilities to understand, but for the first time in a long time, it provided him what seemed to be an anchor to the real world.

These thoughts were running around in his brain without real conscious direction from Max when Jayne Ann opened her door and padded barefoot past Max to the kitchen. The two rooms were only separated by a half wall so Max could watch her when she went to the fridge and pulled out a bottle of something pink. She looked into the sink as she was popping it open. She turned to Max and said sharply, “So, you fell for the 'Mama always gives us cookies and milk routine.’ You've been conned and outsmarted by an eight-year-old.”

Max could feel the anger behind her words— it echoed his own anger at himself, but, in a rare leap of empathic intuition for Max, he understood where her bitterness had come from. Not only had she lost her father, she had lost one of her heroes—himself. In his self-imposed exile from the world, he had spent a lot of energy on self-recrimination and loathing, but he had only thought of the damage to himself, not to his vast following: innocents like Jayne Ann. He felt he needed to do something about it, but it seemed too far out of his weight class to fight.

He looked at Jayne Ann. “I thought you were supposed to practice your guitar tonight.”

She scowled, “I'm dropping it. It's just a waste of time.”

“I don't think it's a waste of time.”

“Yeah, what do I care what you think, mister fake? It's all just lies.”

There wasn't much logical connection in her comment, but Max was surprised how sharp Jayne Ann's knife was. He wouldn't have guessed that a girl's scorn could hurt him so deeply. He tried not to let it show, but was only partially successful. He changed tactics. He made a guess about things with her and lied.

“It would be a shame to throw all that work away. Your mother was bragging to me how hard you had practiced and how good you were getting.” He was sure she would have, if there had ever been time for the subject to come up.

That caught her grudging interest. “Really?”

He held up two fingers. “Yes, scouts honor.” What the hell? It's not like they can send me to hell more than once or longer than eternity, right?

She scoffed. “Yeah, well, she's my mom. She has to say that.”

He saw an opening. “I tell you what, why don't you get your guitar, and play for me? I'll tell you what I think, and I promise to be honest with you.”

He thought he had her, when her face lightened from its burden of scorn and anger, but it was only a moment before it slammed down again. She snorted. “Yeah, like I care what you think.”

She stomped past Max and slammed the door to her room.

Max's heart sank. He thought he had been offered a chance at redemption, no matter how small. He sank back into the worn chair and wondered why he would ever think such a thing was available to him.