CHAPTER 24
EXIT ONLY
They got to the gas station with four minutes to spare. No sign of any fuel trucks, at least not yet. They sat inside Brittany’s Jaguar XJ—she’d left her keys inside the ignition—on the far side of the parking lot. After waiting a few minutes, Peddle stepped out of the car without saying a word, getting into position near the pumps.
It wouldn’t be long now.
Chase kept watch, the driver’s side window offering a perfect view of the town just up the road. According to Peddle, most deliveries came en route from the highway. But with the National Guard having shut down 613, the tanker truck would have to find another way to get to the gas station.
“What if Peddle’s lying?” Chase asked himself. After all, it could’ve been that the gas station owner was simply looking out for himself. Maybe Peddle had struck yet another deal with the demons, this one offering Chase up as a prize to save his own backside.
Chase shook his head, waiting to see what would come. One way or another, this would end once and for all.
#
Minutes later, Chase spied a single set of headlights coming from town center. At the same time, out of the corner of his eye he saw Peddle motion spotting something heading toward them from 613. The older Weaverson concerned himself more with the vehicle in the town center, especially as it bore a familiar cherry-painted frame. When he saw how that transport bore an uncanny resemblance to his pick-up truck, he squeezed his knuckles tight, almost to the point of bursting.
“That’s my fucking truck. I’ll get you bastards for this.”
In the rearview mirror, the eastbound direction showed a set of headlights underneath the overpass to Highway 613. Chase climbed out of the Jaguar XJ and went to position himself behind the Mini-Mart like before. The memory of being shot by Peddle last time played out in his head again, but he refused to let this paralyze him. After all, that tanker truck was carrying more poison for the thriftier motorists who had yet to take advantage of Peddles 99 cent special. Even though Helensview no longer had any drivers stopping in, there was always the chance that a wayward traveler might inadvertently pump that gas into their fuel tank.
Peddle remained standing near the pumping area as bait. Whether or not the demons delivering the gas were aware of Peddle’s betrayal remained to be seen. At the moment, Chase could sense nothing from the mental chatterbox. It was as if the demons had gone into silence in the same manner as those special radio broadcasts.
Would they see right through this? Chase bit his lip, his heart growing sick over that uncertainty.
He heard two doors slam a minute later, followed by voices sounding less than human. As Peddle started in with Chase’s approved speech, Chase poked his head around the corner and caught a glimpse of Peddle’s benefactors.
“The town has been changed,” Peddle announced to the others, lacking any warmth in his voice. “Everyone except me is now a demon.”
Chase further strained himself to overhear the conversation between Peddle and the store owner’s associates. The rasping from the demons made it nearly impossible for the older Weaverson to hear what they were saying.
“We know you are lying,” said one. “We can tap into the mind of the one you call Chase Weaverson. Unless you stop insulting our intelligence with this fabrication, we will resort to that drastic measure. Care to continue?”
“The people of Helensview have been turned. I’ve done all I can,” Peddle said, not a tremble to be found in his voice.
Now the second one chimed in. “You have been fairly consistent in delivering. Do not disappoint us now. We know the Weaversons have not been turned. Even now, we have an agent keeping tabs on the one called Dylan.”
Something about that announcement gave Chase cause for alarm, but he couldn’t think about that right now. The only thing that mattered was stopping this shipment once and for all.
The brief distraction was enough for Chase to miss what Peddle said next. Apparently it matched Chase’s unwritten script, for a second later one of the demons walloped Peddle in the gut. Peddle wheezed, recovering from the blow.
“I’ve done my part. It’s not my fault your gas didn’t affect some people.”
Chase crept away from the Mini-Mart slowly so as not to draw attention his way. His fingers met the maw of his pocket and descended inside of it to retrieve the .9mm. Peddle’s distraction proved effective so far. With some luck and the “radio silence” from the voices, maybe Chase could go unnoticed just a little while longer.
“Does this end our deal, then?” A slight unease clung to Peddle’s tone.
Undecipherable chatter was exchanged between the demons, although neither let Peddle disappear from sight. Peddle’s arms hung at his sides, his fists balled up in preparation for a potential strike.
Chase motioned toward Peddle’s associates, slowly withdrawing the gun from his pocket.
Just keep them focused a little more, Peddle!
“I guess this means you have no further use for me,” Peddle said, his voice trailing off with a quiver. He cleared his throat, as though this might’ve provided him with a sudden burst of courage. “Fine. I’m done with you, too.”
One of the demons lunged forth at Peddle, claws first, and shredded Peddle’s loosely-hanging tie with a single swipe. Chase opened fire on the creature standing further back from Peddle, striking the beast in the back. The fiend’s shrill cry distracted its partner long enough for Peddle to kick it in the shin. Such a blow normally wouldn’t have affected the demon much, but the wailing now flowing through Chase’s mind told him the shot demon’s injury generated a mental backlash that all the demons could feel.
Chase hadn’t thought Peddle had it in him to kick the second one. For the second time in as many days, he actually felt his lips curling up into a smile. Peddle still had a great deal to learn about not thinking just for himself, but as far as Chase was concerned the man was well on his way.
The demon Chase had struck staggered about, clenching the center of his back where Chase’s bullet had blown a dark crevasse in its body. It couldn’t stop the blood gushing out from the hole. Jumping may have been the creatures’ forte, but how could they jump out of the way in time if they never saw the bullet coming?
Chase fired more rounds into his enemy. His victim collapsed onto the concrete pad, next to the pump. Chase didn’t worry that one of his bullets might strike and ignite one of the pumps. In fact, he counted on it. He’d seen no other way to dispose of the tanker fuel. That gas wouldn’t corrupt anyone else in Helensview.
What Chase hadn’t expected was the ease in which the remaining demon flung Peddle off, and then charged at Chase. Chase aimed his weapon, but hadn’t done so in time, which gave the demon enough time to tackle Chase and beat his head into the ground, face first.
The next few moments blurred together for Chase. Though he couldn’t see everything going on at the moment, his body erupted with the shock of multiple strikes coming at it. He could hear Peddle shouting something to the demon, though a ringing in his ears distorted most of the words. A trickle of blood mixed in with his saliva when he coughed, a tooth falling out in the process. His eyes couldn’t bring anything into focus as punch after punch struck him.
Then Chase’s fingers released their grip on the firearm. Suddenly the explosion of another bullet’s discharge tore through the air. For a fraction of a second, unsettling stillness overtook the gas station’s lot. Chase almost considered not moving until he knew for sure it was safe.
But not acting at all would only give the demon a chance to kill him. Still on the ground, he ran his fingers up and down his body, inspecting himself quickly for any gunshot wounds. He found only bruises, lacerations, and tiny trickles of blood that weren’t bullet-induced. That meant only one thing. Either Peddle or the second demon had been shot.
Chase rolled over onto his back, then propped himself up on his elbow and gave a quick glance around. He found Peddle towering over the second demon,
the store owner’s fingers wrapped around the .9mm’s handle.
“It’s over,” Peddle said, offering Chase his gun back, and then some assistance in standing up.
“Not quite.” Accepting Peddle’s assistance, Chase stood up and looked to the tanker still sitting there, intact and full of tainted gasoline. “We’ve got to dispose of that gas so that this doesn’t keep on happening. And eventually we will have to deal with the delivery guy’s bosses, too. Someone’s got to put an end to the production of this gasoline. Might as well be us.”Peddle ran his hand through what little hair he still had on top of his scalp.
“You’re right. The demons will be back, I’m sure of it. They’re worse than roaches.”
Chase thumbed his chin, finding another thin string of blood.
“I hope you’re wrong about that,” he said, glancing back over at Peddle. “If we’re lucky, they’ll leave this town alone now that they’ve laid waste to it.”
“My fault, really,” Peddle remarked with a hint of sincerity.
“Yes, it is.” Chase wasn’t about to argue with that.
“So what now?” Peddle asked.
Chase shrugged. “I’ll just call Dylan and let him know…hmm…weird.”
“Still no service?” Peddle grunted.
Chase pursed his lips. “In all the excitement, I’d forgotten about the crappy reception out here in Helensview. But now my phone’s working fine.” He held it up for Peddle to see.
“One missed call,” Peddle said, reading aloud the text on the screen.
“Yeah, from five minutes ago, no less.” Chase turned the cell phone back his way. “I wonder who…”
A horn blared above Chase’s words. He turned to face the direction of town and saw a vehicle looking exactly like his pick-up swinging wildly into the parking lot. In all the chaos, Chase had forgotten about his truck. With the way it was making full circles on the other end of the pumping area, it seemed likely he’d regret this mistake.
“Crap,” Chase muttered. “The demons have my truck. And I don’t think they intend to take it for a leisurely drive.”
Peddle gripped Chase’s arm. “We should get out of here, then.”
The pick-up’s tires kicked up a cloud of dust as they squealed, the vehicle facing the pumping area. Chase tore away from Peddle’s grasp and handed his phone over to the gas station owner. Then he started toward the far side of the pumps.
“What the hell are you doing now?” Peddle sounded either unable or unwilling to mask the terror in his tone.
“This is the only way,” Chase said. “At least now I’ll truly have atoned for all the wrongs I’ve done in my life. Get somewhere safe, Peddle. This isn’t going to be pretty.”
Peddle cried out, “Are you nuts? This is suicide!”
Chase turned only part-way toward Peddle. “Do me a favor, Peddle. Call my folks, let them know what happened. They’re near the top of my contacts list on my phone.”
With that, Chase Weaverson went to stand in front of the pumps, making himself a standing target for the creatures that would stop at nothing for his soul. If they truly wanted it, they’d have to get it over his rotting corpse.
“Come and get me,” he whispered, listening to his pick-up truck rev its engine for the last time.