Oddly, Brian hadn't asked her about Bellingham. Why? She thought after the parking garage incident that he would, but he hadn't. He'd googled Dante, done some serious digging about him and rushed to tell her about it. Why hadn't he done the same with Art?
Did he already know the reason Art had been there?
If she asked him and he was innocent, it would call attention to the incident. Damn.
"And now you're not speaking to me at all.” Brian sighed and slapped his hands down on his jean-clad thighs. “Megan, I—"
"Sorry.” She smiled. It felt like her face was going to break. “I was just ... woolgathering. I can't help being a little distant, Brian. You know how I feel about all of this, you know it isn't necessarily something I want to be doing. I'm trying and I know it isn't your fault, but—"
A flash of color in the copse of trees in the center of the park caught her eye. The deep, murky red disappeared behind the trees too quickly for her to see what it was, but something about it bothered her.
Brian followed her gaze. “What?"
"I just ... thought I saw something. Probably nothing.” She turned back towards him, only to turn away again when the thing moved in her peripheral vision. What the hell was it?
Brian shifted his weight, making the old wood of the bench creak and move slightly beneath them. It echoed in her nervous ears like a ship in a storm. “What's over there?"
"I don't know.” She glanced over at Malleus, standing just outside listening distance. Maleficarum and Spud were “patrolling". Malleus looked unconcerned, though, so she shrugged. “I guess it isn't important."
"And this is. I need to know what happened. Just tell me the story and I can make it right."
If he was trying to seem more trustworthy, it wasn't working. Why was he so eager to hear this story? Why was it important?
She took a deep breath, looked down to make sure the tape recorder was running, and said, “I was sixteen."
He nodded.
"All the kids knew him—Harlan Trooper, I mean, that was his name.” She glanced at him. “He'd worked as an ice cream man for a while, until he started really drinking, but that wasn't the only reason we knew him. He was a—nice man, Harlan. You know, some drunks get mean. Harlan didn't. He'd just apologize when he fell on you, or when he ‘borrowed’ money to buy more cheap vodka or Mad Dog, or when you caught him ripping open your garbage bags to look for food.” She winced at the memory. The sad look in his eyes, the scraggly beard hiding the pale, wasted wreckage of what had once been a handsome face ... she hadn't thought this was going to be so hard, fifteen years later.
"Anyway, we all knew him. Most of the adults in town did, too. But it wasn't the kind of place where people really supported people like him trying to get help, or maybe he'd never bothered to try, I don't know. There were probably enough people who'd offer him booze just for the fun of it. My father used to get out his air pistol when he saw Harlan in our yard."
Brian made a small sound next to her. She looked at him. “I know. But my dad, well ... it isn't important, I guess. He thought Harlan was the way he was because he'd been coddled or something. I don't know. We never talked about it."
Malleus moved around behind her. She heard him talking to the others in low tones, but didn't bother to try making out the words. The story lived in her head, filling her throat with words she couldn't get out fast enough, as if by speaking them she could erase the memories from her mind for good this time. Surprise and amazement at how easily the words came made her speak even faster, afraid it would disappear.
"One night I was downtown. I'd snuck out. I couldn't sleep, I guess. I don't know. Harlan was sleeping on a bench, at least, I thought he was sleeping, but when I got closer to him I realized he looked ... wrong. Pale, and still."
She didn't want to sit on the bench anymore. Didn't want to feel the wooden slats beneath her and remember the slats stained with Harlan's blood, remember the way he sat up and opened his eyes and something that wasn't Harlan had stared out at her from them ... oh God ... what had it been?
She screwed up her eyes, trying to force the image from them. The Harlan-thing opened its mouth, revealing teeth dripping with blood, and said—
Something grabbed her, throwing her off the bench and onto the ground. She landed with a thud that nearly knocked the breath from her body. Spud was on top of her.
"What the—” she managed, but the words died when Brian started yelling. She looked away from Spud's anxious face to see Maleficarum and Malleus on the grass between the bench and the copse of trees, fighting with something that made every hair on her body stand on end.
Megan couldn't make out much detail, they were all moving so quickly. All she could see was the dull, mottled color of its skin, like a blood bruise covering its entire body. She caught a glimpse of long, sharp white teeth when the thing opened its mouth. Megan screamed as the deadly incisors closed on Maleficarum's arm.
The park that only minutes before had felt peaceful and safe turned into a nightmare landscape as Megan watched the two demons fighting the thing, rolling on the grass, their shouts and the high-pitched shrieking of the fiend combining with Brian's shouts of surprise and the growling that came from low in Spud's throat as he held her down, covering her body with his.
She struggled, wanting to be free, to somehow help Malleus and Maleficarum. Her muscles started to burn as she tried to push Spud off.
He didn't even look at her. His muscles were rigid, his face turned to watch his brothers.
"What is it, Spud, oh my god, what is it? Let me go, I need to help them, what is that thing?"
The thing's jaws were still clamped on Maleficarum's arm. blood pouring from the wound. Malleus kicked the monster, slamming his boot into its head so hard Megan heard the heel connect with its skull, but it did not waver, clinging even harder, shaking its head slowly like a dog prying meat from a bone.
"What the hell is going on?"
She didn't know how to answer Brian's question. All she could do was watch Maleficarum's arm flop uselessly in the air.
Malleus stopped kicking its head and started slamming his meaty fists into the thing's stomach. The thing finally let go of Maleficarum. Megan watched blood spurt into the air in an arc, red and terrible against the blue sky.
Malleus took his chance and kicked the thing in the stomach again, toppling it off his brother and onto the ground.
Before she could even start to breathe a sigh of relief, it sprang up from the grass like a jack-in-the-box and turned towards her, standing still for a moment that felt like forever and staring at her. Her insides turned to liquid.
Spud tensed even further and shifted position on top of her. He was vibrating like a high-tension wire, ready to leap to attack if the thing came close.
It was at least seven feet tall, with scaly red skin and horrible, glowing white eyes. Shaggy hair covered its head and its impossibly broad shoulders gleamed in the sunlight. Its arms hung to its knees, but there was nothing of a lumbering ape about the creature; it was wiry and cunning. Its power stretched across the grass to her as it opened its mouth and rippled its muscles, displaying long, sharp, close-set teeth stained with Maleficarum's blood.
It shrieked again, its ear-bursting howl echoing through the trees and in Megan's head. Without realizing she screamed back, terror ripping the sound from her soul.
"Megan? What's happening?” Megan looked over at Brian, still frozen on the bench. “What's happened to your friend?"
Malleus leapt at the creature a second too late. The thing started running, impossibly fast, its hair streaming out behind it.
Spud pulled her up, yanking her from the grass and lifting her in his arms.
"What is he doing? Megan, are you—"
"Brian, run!” she screamed.
The thing was close to them now. Brian stood up and stepped towards her, right into its path. He wasn't looking at it. He was focused on Megan, frightened and concerned, but in that instant she re
alized he didn't see it, didn't know the creature was about to slam into—
It passed through him. Megan caught only a glimpse of the two bodies entangled before she was airborne. Spud threw her. She landed with a painful thud several feet away, and turned to see Spud slamming his knee into the creature's hairless crotch.
Brian's howls of pain and terror echoed through the park as the creature's body somehow disentangled itself from his. He collapsed to his knees, falling silent in the wake of the thing just as Malleus reached the creature and leapt on it. Maleficarum had picked himself up and was half-running, half-limping towards them, his right hand clutching his injured left arm.
Malleus, Spud, and the fiend moved so quickly it was hard to see who was doing what. Since their faces and bodies were coated with Maleficarum's blood and their own, it was just as hard to tell who was who. The thing's screeching was continuous now as it fought, swiping with claws and snapping with teeth.
They tumbled over, landing on the ground not far from where Brian lay as if unconscious. The thing broke free and sat up, turning once again to Megan, its glowing eyes fastening on hers. Ice ran through her veins. It was trying to insinuate itself into her mind, trying to worm its way into her head the way a snake slithers into a bird's nest to steal its young. She tried to blink, tried to look away, but could not. Instead she felt herself taking a step backwards, moving away from the creature and into the trees behind her, her breath echoing in her ears. She did not want to walk away, did not want to be dragged from her protection, but her feet defied her will and kept moving.
The thing only held her eyes for a second or two before Maleficarum managed to grab it from behind, twisting its head to the side, trying to break its neck. Instead the thing reached behind itself, over its head, its huge hairy hands grabbing the bodyguard's arm and squeezing. Maleficarum screamed.
Whatever the creature had placed in her mind kept Megan in thrall and walking backwards, leaving the smell of the fiend and the sweat and blood of the fight and into the cool, fresh pine-scented air of the rest of the park. Inside she screamed and fought, but her body carried her further and further away with each step, until she stood in the trees around the small mechanical boat pond.
No boats whirred placidly along the smooth surface this day. No sound could be heard but the shouts of the brothers and sound of skin slapping against skin until the crunch of dead leaves made her turn to her right, the spell that had held her broken.
Still she did not move. Don Tremblay stood in front of her, holding a gun.
Chapter Fourteen
"Just relax, Megan,” he said, his mouth stretched in a Cheshire-cat grin. “It won't hurt, I promise."
Without moving her head Megan glanced to the left. The fight seemed to be slowing down. Maleficarum lay on the grass, unmoving, but Spud and Malleus were both on the thing, their fists blurring in the air. There was no sign of Brian. She tried to move into a better position to see and be seen, between the trees, where she hoped one of the brothers would spot her light brown sweater against the darkness of the trees and water.
"I guess they're pretty busy.” Don cocked his head to one side, as if he was listening to something only he could hear. “They're not very good bodyguards, are they?” The whites of his eyes gleamed against his sallow, dirty skin.
Even a few feet away she could smell the acrid, animal odor of sweat and fear, mixed with a healthy dose of cheap malt liquor. A five o'clock shadow flecked with gray covered his jaw and crept up his cheeks like fungus. She'd seen him the day before and he'd looked fine.
"Don, what's happening to you?"
His hand twitched. Megan yelped and tried to step backwards, but she'd maneuvered herself so there was a tree directly behind her. She'd have to duck to the side and go around it, if she wanted to get away.
Panic left her shaking and dizzy. She'd never seen a hole as gaping and wide as the end of the gun's barrel.
"Nothing's happening to me,” he said, but his voice shook. Did his eyes plead with her to help him?
"Don.” She tried to keep her voice calm and matter-of-fact, just as if he wasn't holding a gun on her. “Don, you're not this kind of person. You're a good person, you know that. People like you, you're a strong man, you don't need to do this."
For a moment she thought she had him. His eyes had lost a little of their dazed look and his hands had steadied and started to lower the gun. But the words she'd hoped would appease him had the opposite effect. His eyes blazed and he targeted her again with the gun.
"Don't tell me what I do or do not need to do,” he said. “I know what I need to do! I don't have a choice, do you understand? I don't have a choice."
She held her hands up. Out of the corner of her eye she still saw movement. When would it end? When would the brothers defeat that thing and come find her? Where the hell was Brian?
"Of course you do, Don.” Her voice shook. She tried to swallow, but her mouth was too dry. “You're a good therapist, you know things always get better. There's no need to—"
"Shut up!” he screamed. Tears flowed down his face, leaving tracks on his grayish, sweat-covered skin. “You don't know what you're talking about. They said you'd try this, they said...” Again, he cocked his head as if listening to something only he could hear. Megan didn't have to think hard to realize he was hearing a voice and she knew whose.
Her pulse throbbed in her head. She could hardly breathe. Slowly, carefully, she started to edge her way to the left. If she could duck behind the tree and run from there, she might be able to stay out of the path of a bullet long enough to get to ... where? There was no building to hide in, no people to save her. Nowhere to run.
At this range Don would be able to blow her heart out of her chest without even aiming.
"I'm sorry, Megan.” His voice shook but his hands were steady as he braced the gun.
Megan dove forward, hitting Don's legs and knocking him down at the same moment the gun went off. The report echoed through the trees, through her head: the loudest, most terrifying sound she'd ever heard. Her ears rang and she could barely make out renewed, frantic shouting coming from where she'd left the brothers.
She raised herself up on one arm, balling her free hand into a fist and slamming it into Don's face as hard as she could. Pain thundered up her arm from her knuckles as bone connected with bone. She screamed. Beneath her, Don twisted. He brought the gun up sideways, trying to smash the side of her head.
Megan leaned into it, managing to deflect the blow with her shoulder. She threw herself sideways and landed on both hand and gun, pinning them to the earth.
Don yanked his arm out from under her just as she grabbed his shoulders and aped Spud's earlier move, slamming her knee into his balls with all the force she could muster.
He shouted and pulled the trigger. The bullet shot off into the trees above his head. Megan scrambled to stand but he grabbed her leg. He was curled into a semi-fetal position on the ground but still managed to flip himself onto his stomach and start dragging her back towards him.
She kicked wildly with her feet, trying to detach him. He held on, but her foot connected with his face again. He grunted.
She spun around and grabbed the hand holding the gun, unsure if it was a very smart or very stupid move but certain there were no other options. Blood poured from Don's nose and down his face, staining his clothes and pooling on the packed brown earth beneath them.
She slammed his hand down onto the ground, digging her fingernails into the thin skin on the back of it. The skin broke. Blood oozed from the wounds, hot on her fingers. He tried to pull his hand away but she held on.
With his free hand, he tried to yank her fingers backwards. She scratched him again and planted her foot on his wrist. It was an awkward position but it put more weight on him.
He lifted onto his elbow and shoved his shoulder into Megan's leg, knocking her back down. Her head hit the ground hard enough to make stars appear in front of her eyes, then he was standing ove
r her with the gun pointed right at her face.
"Megan,” he gasped, forcing the words out between sobs. “They won't leave me alone—"
A large body flew from the trees and pounded into Don, knocking him to the ground. The gun went off. The tree behind Megan exploded, bits of bark and wood flying everywhere. She rolled away, only to hit a pair of heavy, blood-soaked legs.
Malleus lifted her up, carrying her as easily as he would a child, and ran away from the trees. His clothes were soaking wet. When Megan lifted her hand from his chest it was red with blood, but his breathing sounded untroubled and normal.
He set her down by the body of the creature lying broken in the blood-soaked grass. Brian sat on the bench next to a slightly paler-than-usual Maleficarum, who was, thank goodness, no longer bleeding. At least, not that she could see.
A moment later, Spud ran out of the trees carrying the gun in one hand and the limp body of Don Tremblay in the other.
"Is he ... dead?” Megan asked. She wasn't sure if she wanted the answer to be yes or no, but she was relieved when Spud shook his head.
"'E's alive, m'lady, don't you fret none,” Maleficarum said, giving Don an appraising look. “You just sit down now an’ let us worry ‘bout ‘im. And ‘im,” he added, nodding at the red beast on the ground.
Her vision started to go black as she realized it was over. The fight was over, she was alive ... they were all alive, even Don, and she was glad.
She was also going to be sick. She tried to turn away, but didn't quite make it. Malleus patted her back. “Better out than in, eh, m'lady?” he said, sounding awfully cheerful for a man who'd just been almost killed by a seven-foot, red-skinned hellbeast. Then again, he'd been awfully happy after his scrap last night. Perhaps this was just a fun challenge for him.
"Megan?” It was Brian, his light eyes huge in his pale face. “What the hell just happened?"
Shit.