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A survey of the items in Simon’s refrigerator turned up precious little. With only a half-empty box of baking soda, some lunch meat, and a milk jug filled just a quarter of the way from the bottom, he didn’t see the lot of them staying in the house much longer. They’d need more food soon, or better yet a vehicle to flee town.
The fact that his truck was gone didn’t sit well with him. It should have been there, right where he’d left it. And the way it went missing bothered him, too. Had the demons taken his pick-up as a preemptive strike against him?
He wolfed down a slice of bologna, which was dark red around the edges and kind of hard to chew on, as he reflected more on what was going on. On the surface, it did appear that they had a great need for him. Why else would the old guy demon not kill him back at the motor inn? Plus, the reluctance toward leaving that had all but crippled him didn’t seem to come from within his own self, but from an outside source.
Even without the truck, he’d get out of town somehow.
You must not want your brother to live, then.
Making sure not to strike anything that might awaken the others, Chase pounded the air with his fist. They had to leave, all five of them. But if Chase tried to escape, Dylan and the others would die.
He couldn’t live with that. Too much blood had already been spilled. Letting the demons slaughter the others was not an option. If he had to play the game their way, then so be it.
But maybe he could still save the others, even if he couldn’t save himself. Maybe Brittany had a car or something. He should’ve thought to ask earlier, but how was he supposed to know that someone would steal his truck?
Unwilling to risk pissing off the demons for now, he inspected the rest of the kitchen for something else to eat besides stale lunchmeat. Some apples in a fruit basket still appeared safe for consumption. He also found a couple of bread loaves stashed away in a drawer, none of the slices showing hints of mold on them. A six pack of diet soda sat on top of a counter. The lack of any condensation running down its signs suggested that the cans had not been refrigerated in a while.
Besides the food, he also came across a radio that, to his surprise and relief, still had working batteries. Fiddling with the volume control beforehand, he turned on the device and was met with a low murmur of news announcements:
“The towns of Thorpe and Helensview have been quarantined indefinitely at this time. The National Guard has set up barricades at all access points leading in and out of these afflicted communities. With the collapse of these cities’ governments, the state is considering plans to eradicate these places and purge the area of the demon threat.
“Detour routes are posted for those who must travel in the area, but be advised that the state patrol has set up checkpoints on these other roads. Anyone found to not be obeying the traffic laws, specifically those pertaining to speed, may be considered potentially dangerous. Appropriate action will be taken if necessary.”
At this, Chase shut off the radio. Even if he did have a car, getting past the National Guard might prove to be a problem. Despite Peddle’s lack of cooperation in spilling what he knew, those demons had to be responsible for some, if not every single one, of those highway accidents. Like the newscaster said, both the state patrol and the National Guard were ready to strike out against anyone they perceived to be a threat.
There had to be a way out of this somehow.
Strange, he thought, how the National Guard hadn’t even set foot in Helensview. Had they attempted to make entry, only to have the demons slaughter them en masse? The explosion on the western edge of town might’ve been a botched operation on the Guard’s part. Plus, who knew how many members of the military had succumbed to this demonic infestation, too?
Without being able to reach anyone else in the world on account of the town’s lousy phone service, there was just no way to tell, aside from the radio. Unfortunately, if the country’s last line of defense was broken, that’d likely be the end of everything.
For that reason, he had to keep the radio off in the meantime. He’d go back to the reports in a little while, but something told him up-to-the-minute updates would only come intermittently, if they ever came again.
As Chase pulled away from the radio, he caught the sound of feet shuffling toward him. He froze, wishing he still had the .9mm in his possession. But it would’ve done no good for the gun to go off and kill him if he rolled over onto it in his sleep.
“You still up, bro? You really should get some rest,” Dylan suggested, standing in the archway between the kitchen and the living room. “Being up all night can’t possibly be good for you.”
“Being a night owl seems to work for you,” Chase said while yawning. “I’ve only been able to sleep in spurts, it seems.”
Dylan crossed the room, standing a couple of feet away from Chase seconds later.
“You okay?”
“Fine.” Chase flexed his fingers. A sudden surge of energy shot through his body, stemming from his annoyance with everything in general. The urge to attack Dylan gnawed at his brain again.
He’s done nothing wrong, Chase thought. He’s your brother. Cut him some slack.
A murmur from the demon voices threatened dissent, but did not form anything specific just then.
Dylan looked Chase up and down, whistling softly as he scrunched his nose.
“Dang, Chase, you could sure use a shower or three, too.”
Chase pursed his lips. It wasn’t like he actually had time to shower, not since he’d left the motor inn yesterday morning, when the coast was still clear for heading out. Why hadn’t he just left then? The answer, he realized, was staring him right in the face just now.
“Did you ever find out whether Peddle’s place is causing all this crap?” Dylan asked, taking the other seat at the kitchen table.
Chase shook his head, grateful for a change in topic from the mention of his body odor.
“No, we ended up watching a paramedic die instead.”
“Oh.” Dylan just about sounded remorseful for once. “Was it a demon?”
“They’re not demons, Dylan,” Chase said, jumping to the defense of these creatures. “They’re suffering from something, sure, but they’re not the monsters you make them out to be.”
The words flew out of his mouth before he had a chance to stop them. In his heart, he really thought of the creatures as being beneath humanity. Because the demons were inside his mind, however, they could just about will him to say anything they wanted.
Or worse, think.
“You’re the one who’s seen them, not me.” Dylan leaned against the archway, arms crossed. “Sometimes I think that what happened to you seven years ago has really mucked up your brain.”
“It hasn’t,” Chase snapped. Feeling the conversation teetering towards a destructive outcome, Chase looked away from Dylan, the weight of his eyelids getting heavier. What he wouldn’t give to just forget about all his troubles for one night and get some solid rest.
“Are you sure about that? Dude, you haven’t been the same since then, and not just because you don’t like to go partying with me anymore. You’ve acted like you’ve been on a heightened state of alert for danger. I can’t even remember the last time you took a risk.”
“Maybe I finally wised up,” Chase said, throwing himself back into his seat. The demonic broadcasts running through his brain remained at the same steady pace. But for how much longer that would last, he had no clue.
“More like sobered up,” Dylan shot back, tossing up his arms as if he’d finally reached the breaking point, too. “I know what you did back then. But you have to let it go. You paid the price for your crime. You served the time. Now you have to forgive yourself and just move on, dude.”
Dylan’s words struck a note of truth with Chase. He had already made amends for his misdeeds. And the matter of the fact remained that what he’d done back then had resulted in a tragedy. He hadn’t intentionally gone out of his
way to hurt someone else, but by taking that last swig of beer back then, he might as well have.
“I should have stopped while I was ahead,” Chase muttered, resting the side of his head against the table.
He felt Dylan’s hand patting him on the shoulder, and then squeezing him in the same location. He barely heard his brother’s footsteps as Dylan stepped away. What little energy he had left slipped away before he knew it.
Sleep finally claimed him.