#
Every remaining ounce of vigor went towards putting one foot in front of the other. Chase couldn’t wait to be done with Peddle, though the man was not without his uses. Having him carry everything back from the ambulance had been a fricking stroke of genius as far as Chase was concerned.
“I hope the others are still all right,” he said, pointing out the driveway belonging to Simon’s house. “I’d hate to walk in there and find three more bodies.”
Especially Dylan’s, he thought.
“I’m sure they’re fine.” Peddle stepped between Chase and the walkway leading up to the front door. “I need to know you won’t ask me about where I got the pills ever again.”
“What’s wrong, Peddle?” Chase grunted a laugh. “Is your conscience bothering you? Did you not mean to come to town and cripple the local economy?”
“It’s not like I had a choice.”
Chase muttered something incoherent just to keep from wasting actual words on the man. Why he bothered keeping Peddle around, he didn’t know. Hell, now that he didn’t really care so much about those pills, any use for Peddle became severely limited. Sooner or later, the gas station owner would prove absolutely worthless. Chase felt his lips curl up with morbid delight at the prospect of ridding the world of Gus Peddle.
Then thoughts of the other Weaversons and Simon popped up in his mind again, and he forced himself to concentrate.
Was this how he’d have to spend the rest of his life, having to constantly keep his sanity from slipping away by taking a pill every few hours? It wasn’t right. He hadn’t poured any of Peddle’s gas into his pick-up’s tank. And he hadn’t wanted to stop at the gas station. He should’ve kept going on that night. That way, he’d have never been exposed to the gas fumes.
But why the gas fumes at all? What was it about the smell of gasoline that could drive a person mad, even go so far as to grow demon horns and a tail? Gas was an automotive element, not a biological one. So unless an unknown, foreign additive got accidentally mixed into the fuel, someone had to have known about the effects.
“Your supplier intended for this to happen, didn’t they?” Chase asked, even though he knew he wouldn’t get an answer out of Peddle.
True to form, Peddle said nothing as he marched past Chase to the front door.
“Whatever,” Chase said. The calm of the Helensview night didn’t rid him of the disgust he felt for Peddle, or the realization that maybe no one would survive the death of Helensview after all.
#
Inside, Chase found Simon in the den with maps and books strewn across the coffee table. The boy himself was snoozing on top of an open book, all tuckered out from the past several hours.
Amazing how he can find some shuteye at a time like this, thought Chase. Then again, if sleep were the only means of escaping this hell, he certainly couldn’t fault the boy for doing so.
Choosing to let Simon be for now, he turned off the nearest overhead light. As he listened to the light rasping of Simon’s snores, Chase felt a tinge of guilt over having a hand in everyone else’s fate. He was, after all, serving as the eyes and ears for the demons. Why he was so important to them, he didn’t know.
However, their desire for him proved stronger than the lust Dylan had for Brittany. This particular notion struck Chase with a nauseating vibe and for a second made him wonder where those two had gotten off to.
Behind him, he heard Peddle slump down into the bean bag chair and fall asleep almost at once. Chase’s own body demanded rest, but his mind remained too alert for that to happen. Arching past Simon, he crossed the room and sat down on the sofa on the other side. After tucking the .9mm underneath the couch, he tried shutting his eyes. Bursts of visions flitted through his brain, the sheer quantity of them about to overload his senses. Oddly enough, they all carried the same theme: a human inhaling the gas fumes, driven mad by the stench and condemned to bony horns and superior jumping prowess.
He knew at once what this was about. The demons were trying to show him their past lives; how, like him, they had jobs and families, until they embraced the changes that made them what they were today.
These visions played on for a while. Then a sudden gasp from somewhere close by broke Chase from this, where he came to find himself lying face down on the sofa. He glanced around and found Peddle tossing and turning in the bean bag chair.
“No, no! The demons are in here! Get them out. Get them away from me!” Peddle said. Sweat dripped off of his chin, his face fully saturated.
The man’s scream made Simon gasp and shoot up awake in his seat.
“What happened?” the boy asked, sounding utterly drained of energy.
“Wake up, Peddle,” Chase said. He mumbled and fumbled about, attempting to cross the room to reach the guy. Sleepiness commandeering more of his body than he’d have preferred, he bumped his knee against the coffee table on his way over to Peddle. Afterward, he hobbled around for a couple of moments, staying tight-lipped until the threat of a yowl passed.
Peddle leaned forward, grabbing the sides of the bean bag chair as though he was preparing to jump out of his seat.
“Are the demons here?”
“Only the erotically charged ones,” said Chase, casting a glare down the hall where slight tremors were coming from. He bit his lip to keep from laughing as he gazed upon Peddle’s mixed expression of confusion and trepidation.
Simon yawned and said, “I’m sorry, Mr. Weaverson sir. I tried to find something that might help us out, but I fell asleep.”
Chase veered away from Peddle and approached the kid.
“You’re fine. Go back to sleep. You’re going to need your strength soon.”
Simon nodded once, which was all that the return trip to dreamland needed for him to do.
“Poor kid,” said Peddle. “Good thing he’s got you looking out for him.”
“I’m not sure I’m helping things, or making them worse.”
Peddle eased back into the bean bag chair, but kept his hands clenching the chair’s sides just in case.
“Don’t underestimate yourself. If it weren’t for you, my remains might be sprawled all over the floor by the beer freezers.”
Checking for the demonic voices again, Chase clamped his hand to his forehead, listening intently. Currently, not a peep roused from the fiends.
“Sometimes it feels like we’re fighting a losing battle,” he said, jiggling the knob on the front door to make sure it was locked. Despite the fact that the demons promised to leave the others alone if he complied with them, there was always the chance they could go back on their word.
Once done with the door, he then left the room before Peddle could praise him some more and made his way into the kitchen.