Demon Derby (29 page)

An empty plastic bag blew across the deserted intersection about a hundred feet away, but otherwise I didn’t see any movement at all. It should have made me feel more secure, but instead I felt nervous. Like a hundred unseen eyes were watching me but I was never quite fast enough to catch them in the act.

The dingy brick of the factory looked almost black in the light of the flickering streetlamps. A metal gate covered the glass entryway, throwing faint crosshatched shadows onto the floor inside. And if that wasn’t bad enough, I could see the sticker from a security company on the door.

“Aw, drat,” I said, trying not to sound as relieved as I felt. “Looks like there’s no way in. Guess we’ll have to do this another time.”

“Don’t give up so easily,” Darcy said. “Let’s look around first.”

Ruthanasia pressed her face up against the door, trying to get a better look at the lock. “I’d say screw it and break the glass, but there’s no way we’re getting through that gate unless
you happen to have a blowtorch in your pocket.” She eyed me. “You don’t, do you?” I was pretty sure she was kidding.

“It’s locked up tight, guys,” I said. “And we are not breaking and entering. Seriously, let’s come back sometime when we have a plan.” And when we weren’t towing around a maybe-demon who might decide to stab us in the back at any moment.

“Let’s go around the building,” Darcy said, totally ignoring me. “Maybe the cleaning crew propped the back door open. It’s worth a look, right?”

I wanted to argue but couldn’t come up with any reason why we shouldn’t at least try. So when she took off down the claustrophobically narrow alley alongside the building, I followed. The ground under my feet crunched, and the dim light made it impossible to see what we were stepping on. Something told me I didn’t want to know anyway.

We emerged onto the loading dock, which was illuminated by a pair of floodlights with sickly yellow bulbs. But it was still all too easy to see the glint of the huge silver padlocks securing each of the bay doors. Darcy tried the employee entrance in the corner. I just wanted her to get it over with so we could go home and I could go to bed. I was clearly not meant to be a bobblehead avenger.

The door opened.

“See?” Darcy flashed her gap-toothed grin. “My mom got fired from a cleaning crew once for leaving the back door unlocked, and somebody came in and stole a bunch of stuff.
People come out to smoke or to throw trash into the Dumpster, and they don’t lock it again until the end of the night.”

“So there are cleaning people in there?” I frowned. “I thought the building would be empty. I don’t want them to get caught in the middle of something.”

“Well, let’s start in the basement, then. Usually the cleaners spend the most time on the public areas and the bigwig offices, which are on the upper floors. At least, that’s what we did this summer when I temped with my mom,” Darcy said. “Besides, if these really are demons, don’t you think they’d be … you know?
Down?
”

I concentrated hard, trying to sense something that would help. I’d felt demons before, so it seemed like I ought to be able to tell if they were around. But the air was full of that choking blackness, and I couldn’t sense a darned thing. So I quit trying.

“It sounds like a good enough place to start,” I said. “Let’s go.”

She opened the door wider. Something slithered out of it.

So far, all the demons I’d seen had been creepy for sure, but they’d been just human or canine enough to slide under the radar as long as you didn’t look too closely. But this thing was totally alien. All I could see was a burst of tentacles, sucking mouths, and sagging flesh. I had the instant, immediate sense that I was in the presence of something
other
, something that didn’t belong here and never would. My mind recoiled; I wanted to run away, but I forced myself to step forward instead.

Darcy crumpled to the ground, babbling incoherently, and the door would have swung shut if the thing hadn’t grabbed it with a tentacle, ripped it off its hinges, and thrown it across the loading dock. The door hit one of the floodlight poles with a clang, and the light rocked back and forth in sickening arcs before it hissed and went out entirely.

Strangely, that was better. Now that I couldn’t see the creature very well, it was much easier to advance on it. I felt numb; my hands tingled with adrenaline, and it seemed like everything was suddenly moving in slow motion as my body readied itself for those instantaneous decisions that could mean life or death. I remembered this feeling from my black belt test, the sinking knowledge that yes, I was going to get hurt, but I was going to do this anyway.

One of the tentacles wrapped itself around Darcy’s leg and started pulling her through the doorway. Red streaked the ground underneath her, and she moaned as her body skidded facedown over the broken glass and small pebbles strewn in front of the doorstep.

The smell of blood hit me, and it only managed to piss me off. If it hadn’t been for me, she wouldn’t have come. I had to protect her.

Suckers dotted each of the tentacles; I could see Darcy’s jeans steaming where they came into contact with the greenish flesh. No way was I going to touch that. Now I was doubly glad we’d brought the arsenal. I grabbed her staff from the floor of the loading dock and spun it into action, whacking the tentacles wrapped around her leg with a swift double
strike. I expected to feel the usual heat and vibration that came with using a Relic.

But it didn’t happen.

I couldn’t understand. There was no reason it shouldn’t have worked. Maybe I couldn’t use another hunter’s Relics? It sure would have been nice if Michael had told me that.

The useless weapon clattered to the ground as the demon continued to drag Darcy inside. I needed to keep my hands free to defend us, so I knelt on her back to hold her in place. She screamed as I mashed her into the assorted sharp things beneath her. But it was better than her getting dragged into the darkness.

Now that I knew she wasn’t going anywhere, I fumbled at my side for my
kusari-fundo
, a length of chain with a heavy weight at either end, but it was all tangled up in my belt. I batted away a searching tentacle with one hand and struggled with the chain with the other. This was not going well. At all.

“What the hell is that thing?” Ruthanasia yelled.

She was frighteningly pale, and the ground in front of her was splattered with puke. But she was still there, holding my necklace in one fist and a flimsy pocketknife in the other. You’d think she would have gone all pointy-teethed and fiery-eyed by now if she really was a demon. This would be an ideal time to strike, and
bang!
Two hunters out of commission. We had to have been wrong about her. Strangely, even though I’d never liked her, I wanted to be wrong.

“Casey?” she shrieked. “What do I do?”

“Just stay there.” I finally freed my weapon and began to swing it, gaining momentum. “I’ll handle it.”

“No. These things took my sister.” Her eyes flashed in a very familiar way.

“Wait!” I yelled, but it was too late. She leapt toward the thing, and a mass of tentacles shot toward her. They whipped around her body, curling up to encircle her neck. One quick twist, and she’d be dead.

“No!” I leapt to her rescue. But once I let Darcy go, the demon jerked her through the doorway. I heard her faint wail of panic from somewhere in the darkness. She sounded impossibly far away.

I hovered indecisively in the doorway, torn between my friends. How was I supposed to decide which one to save? I knew that if I didn’t choose fast, I’d lose both of them, but how could I choose? There was no right answer, nothing I could choose that would make it easy to live with myself later.

Ruthanasia struggled against the constricting tentacles, her hand worming free. I saw the glint of the cross in her hand.

“The necklace!” I yelled, even though she was only a few feet away. “Use the necklace!”

“Duh,” she replied.

Then her wrist twisted, and she shoved the bright silver right into one of the gaping mouths. The tentacle whipped away from her like she was made of acid, and then the beast stiffened in what looked like pain. I felt more than heard it shriek with frustrated hunger. Then it exploded, raining
greenish goop and gobs of flesh onto the loading dock. And on us too.

I ducked, covering my head with my arms to protect myself from the globs dripping off the building, and charged inside. It was even more disgusting in there; the creature had been stuffed into the small hallway beyond the door, and I found myself wading through knee-high muck. When my foot hit something hard, I recoiled in disgust because I was sure that I’d just kicked a demon bit, but then I thought I saw a hint of yellow down there in the slop.

Darcy. She’d been wearing her jersey. I plunged my hands into the quivering, jellylike stuff and pulled her out, willing her to gasp or scream or something. But she just hung limply in my arms, rivulets of putrid guts running down her face. Was she breathing? I couldn’t tell. I dragged her out onto the relatively firm ground of the loading dock. Ruthanasia rushed to help as soon as she saw what I was doing.

I couldn’t remember CPR; my mind was whirling so fast that I couldn’t think straight. Lucky for me, Ruthanasia knew what to do. She tilted Darcy’s head back with what looked to me like an expert hand, stuck a finger into her mouth, and pulled out a clump of demon slime. Then she tilted her gore-streaked face to listen at Darcy’s mouth.

It felt like my heart stopped beating and my head would burst any second. If Darcy was dead, those demons would pay.

She started coughing. I nearly lost it right there, but then she tried to sit up, and I forgot about the stupid hysterics and knelt down to help my friend.

“Thanks,” she gasped. “What happened?”

“You almost suffocated on demon goop,” Ruthanasia said as if this were something that happened all the time. But when I looked, her hands were shaking.

I felt so grateful that I thought I might faint. But I stayed conscious through sheer willpower. “We should get out of here,” I said to Ruthanasia. “Darcy needs help.”

“I’m not wussing, Kent,” she growled. “I took that thing out, remember? We can do this.”

I closed my eyes, trying
not
to remember. “I know. And thanks. But it’s insane to do this when one of us is already hurt. Let’s get Michael or get a plan or a flamethrower or something.”

“You have a flamethrower?” She eyed me skeptically.

“Well, no. But Darcy’s injured. You can’t deny that.”

“No!” Darcy croaked. “Don’t even try to send us home now. Because we’re going into that warehouse with or without you.”

Ruthanasia hauled her up, and they folded their arms and stared me down with identical expressions—stubbornly set jaws and narrowed eyes. Going into the warehouse wasn’t the best idea, but I couldn’t abandon them now. I was sure by this point that Ruthanasia wasn’t demonic—the whole dissolving-her-demon-brethren thing seemed to have eliminated that option—but she had no idea what she was up against. Darcy did, but she could barely stand up straight. So I had no choice but to give in and try to make the best of it. It was time to stop yapping and start moving. Because if the demons hadn’t
known we were coming before, they had probably figured it out after we’d exploded one of their buddies on their back porch.

“All right. But you two promise to stay behind me and watch our backs. I don’t want to get flanked by a bunch of demons and have no way out.” I looked them over. “Deal?”

Darcy nodded reluctantly, and after a moment’s thought, so did Ruthanasia.

That would have to be good enough. I went through the door. The sludge was noticeably shallower already, about ankle height now. Either this stuff was draining out somewhere or it was dissolving. I voted for the latter, because the thought of demon guts in the water supply was enough to make me swear to drink canned beverages for the rest of eternity.

Doors on either side of the hallway led to rooms full of maintenance equipment and empty pallets, but I checked them briefly just to be sure demons weren’t waiting for us to pass by before they jumped out at us. Maybe I was being a little paranoid, but that’s the kind of thing that keeps people alive in combat situations—being thorough. Darcy and Ruthanasia hung back as I explored, Darcy muffling the occasional cough into her slimy sleeve.

The rooms were clear. But I did find a crowbar on top of an unopened crate of toilet paper and tossed it to Darcy, since she’d lost her staff. She took it and swung experimentally.

“You should Relic that up,” I said. “Or do you want me to do it?”

“I’m not that damaged,” she said, looking irate. “I’ll handle it.”

I pointed down the hallway and said, “This way.”

At the end of the hallway was a door clearly marked with a glowing red
EXIT
sign. After what had happened outside, closed doors made me nervous. I motioned Ruthanasia and Darcy back until they were hugging the walls again, and cautiously opened the door. We didn’t get tentacled, spewed on, or otherwise demon-assaulted, so I slowly looked around the door. Nothing there. We all let out breaths that none of us would have admitted we’d been holding.

The stairway was about as generic as they come. It had cream-colored tile walls. Metal steps that made more noise than I would have liked. Bright fluorescent lights overhead. But I could have happily stayed there forever.

We looked at each other cautiously, and then, without saying a word, we turned right and took the first step down. My instincts told me that Darcy was right. That was where the demons were.