The Last Customer (17 page)

           
Winny turned to Cherri with wide eyes and screamed, “Go, run like hell and get help!”

           
She nodded when he gave her a push. She fled out the front door, throwing the small stool aside as she ran. The vase toppled over and shattered on the wooden floor.

           
Winny rushed toward Garth. He stopped and looked at the countertop.

The butchers block.

He stretched his free hand toward it. His fingers fumbled across the handle of the big knife. He pulled it free from its wooden sheath. The moonlight glared off the edge of it as he slashed it through the air. Blindly, he swung the blade at the demon. It hit, slashing Jezebeth. He began stabbing at her repeatedly. Blood shot from her arms and neck. It sprayed in all directions. It looked like pink mist as it splattered the floor, cupboards, counter and Garth. Jezebeth never removed her focus from Garth. The metal blade ripping her flesh to shreds didn’t faze her. She didn’t flinch. She continued pulling him toward her. Finally, the knife plunged deep into her neck. She launched herself at Garth.

           
Garth sprinted across the kitchen, bumping into the stained wood hutch. Rows of knick-knacks and antique china fell to the floor; some rolled, some shattered. A strange doll that looked like a drunken leprechaun tumbled and pelted Garth on the back of his head. He looked up to find Jezebeth holding Winny off the ground. Her hand was clamped around his throat. His legs kicked. His free hand swooped up and ripped the knife from her neck. He jabbed the blade at the wiggling serpent that emerged from her stomach. This time, the end of the snake had split out into smaller snakes that extracted—what looked like—silver hooks that protruded from the fleshy ends. They were rattling and punching at Winny. He yelped as the sharpness snipped at him.

With each strike, Garth watched a small piece of Winny’s flesh tear from his face.

           
“Help!” Winny screamed.

           
Garth jumped to his feet. He ran toward Jezebeth. Hatred, anger and adrenaline fueled his rage. He jumped at her, tackling her to the ground. The slithering creatures shot out of her body, striking Winny.

The back door suddenly blasted open. Garth thought, for sure, that it was Sammael.
This is it,
he thought. His life was going to end.

           
Jezebeth was ripped through the back door. She howled in a deep demonic tone as she went.

5

Sweating and frantic, Cherri opened the side door of Gardner’s garage. The truck was parked against the far right side. The walls were lined with benches. Tools and aged boxes were stacked.
 
She grabbed the door handle and tried to open it. It was locked. She pulled and twisted, nothing. She peered into the cab. Her eyes tilted to the ignition.
No keys.
Gardner probably had them. She had no time to think or devise a plan. She exited the garage and ran down the driveway.

Dust kicked up from the gravel, filling her throat with dirt, causing her to cough She made it to the bottom of the hill. Though she was fatigued, tired and exhausted—her legs kept pumping one after the other. She thought of nothing else but getting help for Winny and Garth. Especially Winny, she found herself taken by him. In the short two hour span that she’d spent with him, in this hellish nightmare, she’d developed a sense of caring for him. It wasn’t lust or a girly crush. It was genuine caring and concern. Unfortunately, she’d aided in robbing his store. That would complicate what he thought of her, later. If they survived this night, he might not think so highly of her. For now, it didn’t matter. He wanted to help her out of this mess. He was good. If she could get to the store, she could get Timmy’s truck, go to town, and find a cop. Never in her life had she wanted to find the police as badly as she did now. The thought was almost comical.

           
Screaming, grunting, and heavy breath infiltrated the night air from the distance. Her throat suddenly felt hot, inflamed with oncoming tears. She hoped that Jezebeth hadn’t gotten to Winny. But also, she was beginning to think that her efforts would ultimately lead to nothing.

           
As she reached the bottom of the driveway, she took a quick glance back at the house. The screams emanated from the backyard. Something bad was happening. She had to get help, fast. She wanted to survive—in one piece would be nice. If she could get help, maybe she could save someone’s life. The thought of helping someone other than herself strangely fulfilled her. It felt good to be exerting her energy for no other reason than to help another. She kicked up her speed. She reached the parking lot. If she remembered correctly, the keys were in the ignition. During robberies, Timmy left the keys in the ignition. That way, if they got into a jam, they didn’t have to worry about searching for the keys, or possibly misplacing them. They could simply jump in the truck and go.

           
And that’s what Cherri did. She jumped in the truck, started the engine and drove to the edge of the parking lot. She looked forward, to the highway. She looked to farmhouse on the hill. Her gaze was stuck on Gardner’s house.

Maybe there wasn’t enough time to go into town and find a cop. How long could Winny and his Garth, honestly, hold that thing off?
Plus, a cop might think her mad if she started screaming about murderous creatures that could crawl across ceilings and shot snakes from bullet holes. Maybe another set of hands was better than wasting however long it might take to find a police station or flag down a random patrol car. She cranked the wheel to the right, hoping that she’d made the right decision.

           
She headed back to the farmhouse.

6

With all of his strength, Gardner wrapped his aching arms around Jezebeth’s neck and pulled her down the cement steps. Her head tilted backward as she strained. Together, they fell to the ground. Anger, adrenaline and rage coursed through him. He felt the presence of
good
working through him—using him as tool.

Jezebeth’s skin was incredibly hot beneath his palm. She began to growl. She was spitting, trying to shuck free of him. He pushed her into the ground,
then
straddled her. Her hips thrust upward, trying to buck him like a rodeo horse. He clamped down and forced her arms into the ground. Her wrists shook violently with the rest of her body.

Gardner dug his knees into the soft portion of her arms, where the biceps met her forearms. Her wiggling continued, violently. Her eyes shot forward, protruding from their sockets. They locked on his. He felt the fire of hell in her stare. A thin ring of hazy white-fire danced around her pupils. She looked like a viscous wolf.

           
“I shall see you in hell,” she hissed at him, and her convulsing stopped.

           
Gardner closed his eyes. He leaned forward and began to whisper.

Jezebeth’s mouth heaved open. Sickly yellow foam spilled out. It burned her lips as it oozed out. The putrid substance trickled across her cheeks. It was scalding hot against Gardner’s hands as it seeped between his fingers. Her voice became deep, almost harmonic and she began to chant. Gardner couldn’t make out the words, but knew they were in Latin.

           
“In the name of all that is good, I command you out of this vessel,” Gardner commanded.

           
When he opened his eyes, he experienced deep sorrow. He watched the girl beneath him die.

The demon had left. The girl’s body was no longer possessed by Jezebeth. She expelled her last demonic breath. Her chest rose, fell, and stopped. A mist of vapor escaped her mouth. The final pocket of life escaped this body.

           
Gardner turned toward the field when a snake slithered past him. He didn’t know if he was imagining the snake or if it existed. It seemed to have slithered from the sickly fluid expelled from the girl’s mouth.

Maybe it was Jezebeth slithering through the grass?

           
Everything became silent. Gardner sat up, still straddling the body of the girl.

Patty was dead.

Gardner felt strong again. The lord had used him. God breathed life into him. His body shook. Beads of sweat formed on his forehead, soaking between the creases of his aging skin. The drops detached from his pores and ran down his face. They slid down his jaw-line and fell to the grass. He closed his eyes. His shoulders slumped. He inhaled deeply.

Before he stood, he thought about the girl beneath him. A vision took hold. He saw the awful things that she’d done. This girl—Patty King—had taken lives from the innocent and the damned alike. In his vision, he was shown images of Patty and Rod Barton—killing
her
parents. They had tied them to a pole in the basement and they’d desecrated them.

Gardner didn’t want to see this vision, but if he was being shown, then it was necessary. Patty’s mother and father had been tortured for days while she and Rod laughed and sought pleasure in their misery. Their murder was a cruel joke.

           
Patty was evil. Still, Gardner shed a tear for her. She hadn’t been born evil, she’d been taught evil. Now, she would endure torment for eternity. It was the consequence for her cruelty.

The vision stopped.

A pair of headlights emerged from the driveway. It was a truck.

It must be the girl, Cherri.

           
The dead girl began breathing.

7

Patty King awoke from her nightmare and faced hell. Fully alert now, she was locked in some kind of dungeon. It was dark, almost black and the walls were lined with black sludge. The last thing Patty could remember was brutalizing Judy, the young professional that she and Rod had tortured. She had been in her basement. Rod had cut her throat. Patty’s memory started to flow. She remembered being sick. Her stomach had twisted in knots. She’d become faint. A sensation had sizzled inside of her and her organs had felt like they were burning.

That was the last she remembered
;
before opening her eyes to this dark place. She wanted out. Her insides were sour and rotten. A bitter stench arose in the room, emanating from all around her.

Looking to her left, she saw Rod plastered to the wall. But she could only see a glimpse as he was propped against the wall which was wet and slimy with running ooze. There was a thin layer of clear skin blanketing him with suction. It was wrapped tightly to him, almost like shrink-wrap. His eyes were pried wide open and pinned back. His expression reflected great horror.

           
Light shined into the room, a fiery glow. The bright rays danced in the dark, behind Rod. For a moment, Patty’s attention was drawn away from Rod. Someone had opened the door to this dark place. Hopelessness set
in
as she felt something worse than death behind the door.

Or maybe she could go now? She hoped, but didn’t believe.

She promised herself that she would be back for Rod.

           
Her slimy restraints ceased and she could move. She turned and when her body twisted, she saw that the light led to a brick house. The world opened up to her. It was someone’s house on a hill. The light ceased and it was dark. It was a farmhouse. The cool air surrounded her. Her lungs suddenly filled with heaviness. She was drowning and she was removed from the dark place. It no longer surrounded her. Her sight became filled with the night. Millions of stars lined the sky. To her right, she saw the moon. It was fully engorged and luminescent.

Pain seized her. She was lying on the ground and the grass beneath her was wet. She looked up and saw an aging man, probably sixty years old. He stared down upon her. His eyes were intense and he was sweating profusely. She wanted him to help. She tried to scream. Wetness erupted from within her. She felt pain sear through her body like wildfire. For all the atrocities she’d committed—torture, sorrow, agony—she felt regret. Regret so deep that it peeled her apart from the core outward.

           
And then it was dark again.

She was falling, burning.

           
She was scared.

Chapter 14

1

The truck that Timmy, Terrance and Cherri had arrived in sped up Gardner’s driveway. Cherri hit the brakes, put the truck in park and hopped out. Her feet hit the ground and she ran, hurrying when her shoe soles touched gravel. Her desire to help—to fight—was incredible. She looked into the backyard. Gardner was leaning over the blonde woman from the store.

Hesitant at first, Cherri continued toward Gardner. She slowed to a shuffle. Fear encompassed her. She didn’t know what evils lurked in the darkness. Also, she didn’t know Gardner, or what he would do to her,
what he thought of her
. But right then, she wanted to help him and she needed to trust him. Her intuition insisted that he was good.

           
“Are Winny and Garth all right?” She asked, searching the backyard. Nothing crawled from the shadows. Genuine concern accented her voice and she hoped that both Gasper brothers were okay, but mostly she hoped that Winny was all right. There was something happening between her and Winny on a level that she couldn’t explain. No words could describe it. It was a bond of some sort. She wanted to be with him. Maybe later, if they got out of this night alive, they could get to know each other. Right now, she only hoped that he was okay. Her anxiety created a twist in her stomach. She wished it would loosen because she wasn’t able to think clearly.

           
“Let’s check,” Gardner said after quickly inspecting Cherri. He stood and they ran toward the back door of Gardner’s house.

           
Before they could enter the house, Garth and Winny blasted out the screen door, nearly knocking Gardner and Cherri to the ground.