CHAPTER 18
WRONG WAY
Chase awoke lying in an unfamiliar bed, a single blanket on top of him. A combination of confusion and weakness strapped him to the bed harder than the covering someone had so thoughtfully tucked him in with. With the extra layer wrapped tightly around his neckline, he lacked the strength to peel it off just now.
His exhaustion remained with him despite the time he’d spent sleeping. Through his grogginess, he struggled to recall the events leading up to him passing out. The memory of taking medical supplies from the ambulance sprang to mind right away.
But how’d he get from the kitchen to the bedroom? Had Dylan moved him? He ran his hands up and down his body. Forgetting for a moment that he’d slipped the .9mm underneath the living room sofa, he grazed his fingers over the front of his pocket. The gun was, of course, gone.
Terror set in as Chase ripped his blanket away and at once sprang to his feet. Zipping down the hall, he flew into the living room to the tune of a clock chiming eight times. With his overnight activity he’d probably gotten four hours of sleep, if that. His gaze went straight for the bean bag chair, its essence relieved of a certain gas station owner.
“Peddle!” The force of Chase’s voice probably woke up everyone else. Not that it mattered right then. Only one concern festered about in his mind. “Where the devil are you, Peddle?”
He stormed the rest of the house for the man. How dare that weasel snatch Chase’s gun and leave them defenseless? As he passed the living room couch on his survey of the room, a spark of memory tickled his brain. He got down on hands and knees and gaped underneath the sofa. His fingers sweeping against cool metal, Chase released the breath he’d been holding onto. He withdrew the weapon from its hiding spot and clutched the handle firmly.
Just as he was about to pocket the gun once more, he happened to turn around and face the hallway. Brittany, standing in the threshold with a mudpack all around her face and her hair wrapped up in a towel, shrieked with all the lung power at her disposal. Clearly sleeping with Dylan had done squat to ease her nerves. The noise she made immediately drew Dylan and Simon from the kitchen into the living room.
“What’s going on?” Dylan asked, rushing to Brittany’s side before he caught sight of the gun in Chase’s hand.
Pocketing the gun before he startled anyone else, Chase asked, “Either one of you seen Peddle this morning?”
“Sorry. Can’t say I have, sir,” Simon said.
“I haven’t seen him in a couple of hours,” Dylan offered with a truthful shrug.
“Damn.” Chase clenched his teeth.
“I think Mr. Peddle stepped out earlier this morning,” Brittany announced, her voice indicating a quick recovery from a few moments ago. The hostile glimmer in her eyes, however, hinted that not all was forgiven.
“Oh?”
Chase stopped himself short of flying towards her. If he’d gotten any closer, she would’ve flipped out for sure, especially after he’d pointed the gun at her without thinking. The adrenaline coursing through his body all but numbed his common sense. This seemed to rile up the demons monitoring his soul, making them thirst even more for a slaughter.
“No,” Brittany shot back, leaning further into Dylan as if declaring the younger Weaverson her property. “But I heard someone go out the front door at the crack of dawn. Do you know how hard it is to get some much needed beauty sleep with the hullabaloo you boys make?”
Chase grumbled. Who cared whether she got her beauty sleep? He had to find Peddle. If the demons learned that the gas station owner had gone missing, they might go back on their promise not to hurt the others.
A rise in the demon babble sounded very much like the demons were confirming this. He had to do something before they did.
“We’ve got to find him,” he said.
Appearing less than convinced of this, Dylan led Brittany to the sofa. She kept her head on Dylan’s shoulder the whole time. Chase ignored this and, without raising suspicion, patted the outside of his pocket.
“Where would he have gone, sir?” Simon asked Chase, apparently the only other person who seemed to care about this.
“His gas station. Where else? I don’t even know why I bothered to save his sorry ass,” Chase said, not bothering to watch his language in front of Simon. “That idiot’s really mucked things up, big time.”
His insides felt alive with fire, as though his blood pressure had soared to new heights. Perspiration beads skittered down his cheeks, even with the AC blasting. The sun was already two hours into heating up the desert area again. It wouldn’t have surprised Chase if someone else had foolishly opened a window to let even more heat into the house.
“If Peddle’s out, he’s out,” Dylan said, gingerly stroking the long strands of Brittany’s hair. “There’s nothing we can do about it now.”
Chase clenched his jaw.
“If that’s the case then we might not survive much longer, Dylan.”
“Why?” Dylan nuzzled his nose against Brittany’s in yet another display of disrespect brought on by a slight hangover.
“Because he has pills that keep me from changing into a demon,” Chase blurted out without even thinking. In his head, a roar of protest sent a sharp pain coursing through every nerve, causing him to collapse right where he was. Two minutes later, the sturdy grip of rough fingers and a trace of whiskey on Dylan’s breath whipped Chase back to coherency.
“Dude, you might become one of those things yourself?” Dylan whistled, adding another whiff of alcohol to the air.
“Trying hard not to. Peddle gave me a pill to prevent me from becoming one myself. Ever since then, he’s been holding them over my head, teasing me with his bottle any time I’m about to come flying off the handle. Last night, he came to me and insisted that I not dig deeper into where he got the pills in the first place, like he was afraid of retaliation or something. If he took the pills with him, I’m doomed.”
“Maybe he deals drugs,” Simon suggested, retrieving a book from underneath the cushion of his wheelchair.
“They are unusual pills. I’d forced one down the throat of the paramedic demon Peddle and I encountered last night, and the guy changed back to normal before he died.” Chase sighed and found his way over to Simon. “I don’t suppose your book has anything on how a pill might keep someone from becoming one of those things.”
Simon shook his head. “No sir. I can’t say it does. Do you wanna look?” He held out the book as if he thought this might help Chase out somehow.
Chase gave the kid a small smile.
“Maybe later. Peddle’s the one with all the answers. Unless, of course, he’s too busy having the demons rearrange what’s left of his internal organs into a scarecrow.”
“He’s also just trying to stay alive, sir,” Simon countered.
Chase grappled with his response for a second so as not to yell at the kid. “He’s not going to survive at all if he doesn’t work with us.”
Dylan asked, “And how do we stand up against those demon things?”
“I don’t know.” Chase glanced out at the world just beyond the living room window. “The local police are gone and the National Guard’s set up blockades to prevent anyone who might be a demon from escaping. The four of us might be all that’s left of this community.”
“If we can find the cause of all this, we might stop it from continuing,” Dylan said.
“The gas is the cause,” Chase said, crossing his arms. The urge to grab his gun remained steady, the bodiless voices humming at him. “More exactly, the fumes from the gas trigger this strange demonic reaction in its victims. Anyone who’s exposed to it for a while eventually grows horns and a tail.”
“Gas does this?” Simon asked, looking up from his book.
“Just the brand that’s served at Peddle’s station. Why else do you think it was so cheap to begin with?”
“I knew such low prices were too good to be true,” Brittany said, sounding a bit more receptive to w
hat Chase had to say. “That’s why I only fill up my Jaguar XJ with the best premium fuel money can buy.”
“You have a Jaguar?” Chase gaped at her, a breadth of air between his lips. “What the hell is a well-off miss like you doing in a town like Helensview? You should be living it up in Hedon City or something.”
Dylan flashed a sheepish grin at his brother. “I was meaning to tell you about that back at the diner. Brittany was on her way back to the big city, and I was going with her. I still might, if we can ever get out of here.”
“That still doesn’t explain how she wound up in town Friday night.”
“I was planning on spending the night at the Helensview Motor Inn, you moron. Some people can’t make it all the way driving into Hedon City in one day, after all.”
Realizing that this chatter wasn’t getting him anywhere, Chase started for the front door. “I’m going after that bastard.”
“Maybe we should wait until he returns,” Brittany suggested in a tone of low hostility. “He might’ve just stepped out for a breath of fresh air, after all.”
Chase swung toward her slowly, making damn sure he stayed respectful even toward a lady of the night.
“Someone’s got to take charge here,” he said, finally knowing in full why he’d had to step up. “Peddle’s a flight risk, my brother can’t seem to act responsibly for all of five seconds, and Simon’s just a kid.”
“I’m more than just a kid,” said Simon. The kid’s face flashed white-hot rage Chase’s way.
Chase didn’t let the regret of his words shake him from explaining his position to the others. Even the demons murmuring in the background of his psyche seemed just as surprised by his words as his housemates were.
“And as for you, Brittany, I’m not exactly sure I can trust the judgment of a woman who thrusts herself into the arms of Dylhole over there.”
“Way to go, Chase,” Dylan mumbled. “Gotta annoy the hell outta everyone, don’t ya?”
Chase glowered at Dylan. “Just gunning for you, bro.”
Waiting until the others left the room out of disgust, Chase seized his .9mm from his pocket. He then rushed through the front door, slamming it behind him.
Peddle wasn’t going to worm his way out of this one.