The Paladin (25 page)

Thanks to Celeste's feast at the jail—and later the massive exit hole she made in the exercise yard wall—they were free and looking for easy money.

"Hey Hubert, look at that."

"What?"

"That car over there by the curb, there's somebody in it. Let's see if they have some money."

Slipping into the shadows, the thugs crept through the tall shrubs, moving within a few feet of the parked Bentley. They watched as the car's single occupant, a middle-aged man, light a cigar.

"Damn, we hit the jackpot, Leon, that's one pricy ride. I'd bet the driver's got a wad of money that would choke a damn horse."

"Let's be smart about this, Hubert, you got that gun you took off that guard?"

"Yeah."

"Good. We'll just force Money Bags to take us home with him and we'll clean him out. Then, we can have some fun."

"I hope he has a pretty wife, or maybe a daughter or two," said Hubert.

"Yeah, this is going to be fun."

"Say, mister, you got one of those cigars for me and my friend?" said Hubert, as he slid up to the open car window.

John Beck looked into the barrel of Hubert's gun and laughed.

"One of these little gems is worth more than both of you two shit-kickers put together."

Leon opened the passenger side door and slid in.

"Don't make a sound, rich man, just do what we tell you and you might just live to tell about it."

Beck blew a cloud of smoke and laughed.

"Maybe you don't hear so good, rich man," Hubert said jamming the barrel of the 9mm hard into the side of Beck's head.

"If you boys will just wait a bit, my wife will be along and we can ride together. I have to warn you though, she does have a temper."

Hubert let out a muffled scream and disappeared into the darkness. The peaceful night was shattered as his gun discharged twice.

"Hubert!" Leon yelled.

Beck slipped free a hidden knife and with amazing speed put the razor sharp blade to Leon's throat.

"Now, young fellow, if you don't make a sound and do what I tell you, who knows, you may just live to tell about it."

"Don't kill me, me and Hubert were just messing with you…we wasn't going to do nothing, swear to God!"

Leon sat still, sweating bullets, while outside in the dark it sounded to him as if a wild beast was ripping his friend apart. Suddenly, with a sickening, wet sound, a wave of red splattered the windshield.

"Oh, God Almighty, please let me go!" Leon cried.

The passenger side door flew open and Celeste appeared as a bloody apparition.

"You believe in God, you sorry excuse for a man?" she asked. "Good, because you are about to meet Him."

Beck chuckled and grasped Leon tightly.

"Well I guess I was wrong, shit-kicker; you won't live to tell about it."

Celeste ripped the screaming man from the car, her eyes burning bright with madness. In seconds, his screams ceased with the sharp snap of bones.

"Aw shit," said Beck as she feasted upon the thug. "Looks like blood madness has taken hold. I have to stop her before she does something stupid and alerts the police, or worse, that pain in the ass Paladin!"

Before Beck could react, Celeste let out an inhuman scream and disappeared into the night.

34

Silas and Maggie sat in her Volkswagen. The small car was parked in Mrs. Anderson's driveway.

"That place gives me the shivers," said Silas as he peered at the darkened house.

"I think it looks great from here," said Maggie.

Puzzled, Silas turned to face her. Maggie draped her arms about his neck and kissed him.

"The view looks absolutely marvelous," she whispered.

"Maggie, you need to focus or you will get yourself killed. This house is beyond dangerous."

"OK, Silas. It's just that I had a really great day with you."

"That's nice," he said. "But the world will end if we fail, so pay attention."

"You know, Silas, you are cute when you get all serious."

"That's it," he said pulling out Zack's cell. "You are out. I'm calling Brenda. I figure she can do at least as good a job as you."

"You look here, Ghost Boy. First, you can't kick me out. Secondly, to even hint that Brenda Mills is as good as me, will get you an ass-whipping, right quick and in a hurry!"

"Now that I have your attention, do you have the plan down, or should we go over it again?"

"I know it like the back of my hand," she said.

"Good, tell it to me again."

"I take the goop that the book told us to make and smear it on my face at the front gate. For one hour, it will fool the house into thinking that I am Mrs. Anderson."

"What happens if you are on the grounds when the hour is up?"

"It will kill me, or at least try."

"I wish I could go," he said. "It would kill me if anything happened to you."

"But like the BBSP said, it will only work on a woman. You know, Ghost Boy, I've been doing some reading on witches."

"Anything interesting?"

"From what I read, it's a wonder we survived Mrs. Anderson. We got
real
lucky."

"Yeah, I guess we did. Anything else?"

"It said that most of a witch's power is in the spoken word. Isn't that freaky? Take that away and she is pretty much like anybody else."

"Glad all we have to do is get by her house," he said. Silas smiled at her and took a chain from his neck. "Maggie, I want you to take this pendant. It will protect you somewhat if we run into Celeste. I would say she is prowling for victims as we speak."

Silas slipped the necklace about her neck.

"When this is over, it will give you something to remember me by."

"Don't talk that way," she said. "I will figure a way out of this mess. I will not lose you."

"Maggie…be reasonable," he said.

"You be reasonable," she said getting out of the car. "Now get lost, Ghost Boy. I will see you back here in one hour and you had better be glad to see me."

***

"That way," Mills said to his daughter as she piloted through the wreckage of Bryson City. She crept along, keeping her headlights off to avoid attracting attention from the police.

"Can you please drive faster, Brenda? For God's sake, we were passed by a box turtle!"

"What's the hurry?" she snapped. "If the cops catch us after dark they will lock us up. You saw the signs back there."

"We won't get caught," said Mills. "You maybe, but they don't have a cell that can hold me."

"Great."

"Now, take that road, we have to get to First North Street before it is too late."

"Why? Too late for what?"

"Don't 'why' me, girl, just do it!"

***

Maggie wasted no time and systematically searched the house from top to bottom. While she discovered many odd and macabre items, the Collamarr proved to be elusive.

Damn it!
she thought.
Where is that stupid jar?

Maggie paused before the door that led to the basement. She could feel that something powerful and evil lay beyond the door. Raw fear gripped her.

"Come on, Maggie," she said softly. "You are the bad-ass Paladin of a freaking angel, for crying out loud. So cowboy up!"

Checking her watch, she found she had less than fifteen minutes left. Taking a deep breath and drawing Kali, she opened the door.

"Halleluiah!" Maggie said as she reached the bottom of the steps. A few feet away on the reddish-brown stained floor sat the Collamarr.

Maggie resisted the urge to snatch up the jar and to put the evil place in her rearview mirror.

The Collamarr sat in the center of an elaborately drawn mandala. The Book had warned her that such things were not to be taken lightly, as they usually held some sort of demonic entity.

Maggie rushed back up the stairs and soon returned with a large mirror she had taken from the living room wall. Draped over her shoulder was a quilt.

Angling the mirror over the occult design, careful not to touch it, she removed a box of salt from her backpack.

"Here goes nothing," she said as she opened the salt and dumped it on the sinister mandala.

Never in Maggie's worst nightmares, had she imagined that such a creature existed. The demon rose from the floor with a soul-freezing cry of rage and pain. He lunged at Maggie and she ducked behind the mirror. The creature saw its reflection and, emitting a scream of terror, was drawn inside.

Maggie threw the blanket over the glass, trapping the creature inside. "Piece of cake," she said as she picked up the Collamarr.

"Bravo," said Harold White.

Maggie looked up and saw Harold standing on the bottom step, covering her with a gun.

"Now, be a good girl and step over here."

Maggie threw the Collamarr at him and stepped to the covered mirror.

"Wait, Maggie I only want—"

With the flourish of a matador executing a perfect veronica, Maggie pulled the quilt from the mirror.

"Oh, shit!" cried Harold as the beast sprang at him. Dropping his weapon, Harold pulled out a copper disk and held it before him. The disk glowed brightly as it held the snarling beast at bay.

Maggie scooped up the Collamarr and slid past Harold on the steps.

"Sorry, Harold," she said with a smile. "Never quite got the knack of being a good girl. Ta, ta!"

Maggie looked down at her watch and blanched.

The countdown timer flashed, 55… 54… 53…

"Crap!" she cried.

Tucking the Collamarr under her arm like a football, Maggie sprinted up the steps and burst through the basement door.

Maggie flew through the house and out into the sinister garden. With no time to spare, she dove through the iron gate as it slammed shut behind her with a loud clang.

"Silas, I got it!" she said, holding the vessel aloft.

"Silas?"

She made her way to her car, but found it empty.

I don't like this.
She thought.
He would not leave me like this. Harold White's friends no doubt…damn it!

Maggie turned suddenly at the sound of a big vehicle racing down the drive toward her.

35

Silas nervously paced beside the car.

"Please Lord, don't let anything happen to Maggie," he prayed. "Protect her and keep her safe, O Lord. She is special." Silas turned and walked to the end of the darkened drive. The power was still out in this part of the city with most of the residents having been relocated to one of the makeshift shelters set up on the outskirts of town.

With all the changes to this old world, I am amazed at how this part of town is much the way I left it,
he thought. Silas glanced at his watch.
Won't hurt anything to take a quick look around. If I just stand here, I will give poor Zack an ulcer worrying about Maggie.

Crossing the street, Silas cut through a few yards on his way to his former home. He knew the police were looking for Zack, but he longed to see the home he had built for his family one more time.

***

Peering through the shrubbery that divided Sara's property from the Comstocks’, Silas saw a police cruiser parked in her drive.

Now where could the officer be?
he wondered. Silas failed to hear the stealthy footsteps coming up behind him.

"Turn around and let me see your hands!" commanded Officer Jerry Brock.

Silas closed his eyes and concentrated with all his might. His features blurred and shifted.

"I'm not going to ask you again."

Feeling like the world's biggest fool, Silas raised his hands and turned.

The police officer did not see the wanted Zack Cole. Instead, he saw a young Frank Sinatra standing before him.

"So, what are you doing out here, boy?"

"Just passing by."

"At one in the morning? You have to come up with something better than that. You thought it would be easy to pick up a few things with all the people gone, now didn't you?"

"I am not a thief."

"Let's see some ID."

"Don't have any."

"What's your name?"

Silas said nothing.

"OK, tough guy, on the ground, hands behind your back. You are under arrest for breaking six o’clock curfew and looting."

Meekly, Silas complied with the officer's order to lie on the wet ground, where he was quickly handcuffed.

"Son, anyone tell you that you look just like old Blue Eyes?"

"Not lately."

"Bravo 12," Jerry said into his microphone.

"Go ahead, Bravo 12," said dispatch.

"Bravo 12, I have a subject in custody at the Butcher's place. Probably another looter."

"Bravo 12, do you need a code 0?" asked dispatch.

"Negative, 10-15," said Brock, indicating he had the situation under control.

"I am not a looter."

"Come on boy, or should I say ‘Frank?’" said Brock. "We can have a heart to heart down at the jail. Maybe if you give the judge a concert he will go easy on you."

Officer Brock helped Silas up and marched him to the waiting cruiser. He bent Silas over the hood, both to search him and to have video taken with the cruiser's camera.

Silas turned his head and blanched. Approaching the cruiser was Celeste Beck. Her face and clothes were bloodstained and her eyes gleamed with the prospect of more. She was like a shark in the midst of a feeding frenzy.

"OK, OK, I'll confess to anything you want, but let's get out of here now!"

"You two gentlemen look
tasty
," she said licking her blood stained lips. "Especially the one in custody. Now, be a good cow and give him to me."

Brock took one look at her bloody clothes and slammed Silas down hard on the hood of the car.

"Stay put, punk!" said Brock. "You're under arrest, too, Twilight, now hands on top of your head. Looks like Halloween came early this year."

"Get out of here before she kills you!" screamed Silas.

"What?"

"Take a good look, officer, she's not even human."

"Not human? What the hell are you talking about, Frank? Looks like somebody got a drug problem, too."