Demon Gate: Beyond the 9th Circle: The Rapture Was Just The Beginning. (3 page)

Several hours later Spencer saw a sign
welcoming him across the North Carolina border.
He was still rattled from the gas station
experience in Falmouth, but managed to focus on
his new plan. He turned the radio up to see if
there was any good news, or any news at all.
Instead, he found a radio station that was
announcing more evacuations, and more portals
in all major cities.
Are we under attack
?
How far
has this spread
?
As Spencer drew near to Fayetteville,
North Carolina, hunger finally broke through his
fear and his stomach insisted on food. So, having
no other current options, he pulled off the
interstate into the nearest town of Dunn, North
Carolina. It was a small town and it seemed to be
split into two smaller parts by just one main road.
The town seemed quiet; a little too quiet.
The sun was going down, so Spencer figured he
might as well find some place to eat and spend
the night. Here was as good as anywhere else.
Before looking for a roadside motel, he
took stock of what he had in his trunk: fifteen
twenty-ounce bottles of water, two boxes of
energy bars, and a dozen MRE’s that he had
unceremoniously dumped into his car before
leaving his New Jersey home.
This isn’t going to
get me very far; I’ll have to find more
, he thought
bitterly.
Suddenly a twig snapped, causing
Spencer to draw his Glock and whirl around
toward the source of the noise. He could hear
something growling and hoped it was just a stray
dog. Anything was better than the creatures he
had encountered at the gas station. He was on
edge, and his nerves felt like they channeled an
electric current.
“Who’s out there?” Spencer called just to
feel safe.
However, there was no reply and no
further noise. Spencer wanted to keep moving,
but he had been on the road since that afternoon,
and the sun was sinking fast. He was also
exhausted mentally from the entire world view
shift he was being forced to make. Knowing it
could be dangerous leaving his supplies
unprotected - anybody passing through would
probably try to take them - he was going to have
to be careful about where he selected to spend the
night. It had to be safe and hidden. He wasn’t
sure how far the incursion or invasion had
spread. He knew there were creatures in New
York and in no less than a dozen major cities
around the world, and most likely in the nation’s
capital as well.
Is the same thing happening in Miami
?
Am I wasting my time going there
? Spencer
wiped the sweat from his brow. “Okay, Spence,
focus,” he admonished himself. “Worrying about
it will just lead to second guessing yourself.”
His eyes were drawn to a motel spruced
up with foliage in a cluster off I-95. He hid his
car around the back of the long building and
between more bushes and the garbage bins.
If
anyone wants to loot now, the last place they will
go is the garbage with so many people just gone
and places left with no one watching out for
them.
Walking into the lobby, he was not
expecting to find anybody. The first glance
around almost caused him to retreat from the
motel. There were no less than four bodies and
each had been dismembered. Blood stained the
walls and the floor. The most alarming fact was
their clothing. The bodies were dressed in full
combat fatigues; the military had obviously
staged a futile defense. Slowly he looked around
and behind and realized that there were at least
two dozen bodies and body parts littering the
parking lot and the surrounding landscape.
Spencer tried to resist the urge to vomit. Turning
away from the carnage, he leaned against the
wall so as to not focus on the horrific scene all
around him, but it was no use. Spencer doubled
over and gave up whatever remained in his
stomach.
Time eked by and Spencer became calm
enough to re-enter the lobby. The bodies still had
some color, but not much, which indicated they
had been recently slain. Spencer felt the urge to
flee again, but managed to hold his composure.
Kneeling down he put the back of his hand to a
lifeless carcass to try to determine how long it
had been dead. It was still warm; rigor mortis had
not yet set in. Nausea raced through Spencer’s
stomach again and bile crept up his throat. He
had never encountered a dead body before this
horrible day except in a clean and controlled
funeral parlor.
Whoever did this might still be close
. As
if a mirror to his thoughts, there was a sound
from within the hotel; a piece of furniture scraped
against the floor - a large piece of furniture.
The sound came from a room down the
hall so Spencer eased down the hall with great
caution. He had to find out if it was a person or a
killer-creature, he desperately needed to find a
safe place to sleep and hoped that since it was
furniture, a person had slid it around to block a
door.
He tried not to freak out; he couldn’t
afford to. In the hall, there were three doors along
the right wall and four on the left.
“Who’s here?” Spencer asked.
Spencer heard a response; it was muffled,
but distinct. Then it came again.
“Wait! I need help.” It was a female
voice. She had a thick accent, but Spencer could
only guess as to its origin from the few words,
maybe Irish. He approached one of the doors,
turned the knob and pushed. The door opened
four inches before it hit something.
“What’s that?” Spencer asked, under his
breath. “Never mind.” He stepped back, slipped
the Glock into the cuff of his pants and kicked
hard at the door, forcing it open. In the middle of
the room was a queen sized bed. The rest of the
room was lying in ruin. Hiding behind the bed
was a girl with shoulder length red hair. She
could have been no more than seventeen years
old. She had a tomboy look to her body and
clothing and this made her rather attractive.
Mentally, he kicked himself. What was he
thinking? They could be dead before the sun
came up; there wasn’t time to speculate on a
relationship, even if she turned out to actually
like him back.
The girl came out from behind the bed,
approaching Spencer cautiously. “Who are you?”
she asked, her voice trembling.
He looked around the room, ignoring her
question. “I’m a little more concerned with the
bodies in the lobby?”
“Bodies?” the girl gasped. “How many?”
She started to push past Spencer, but
Spencer stopped her.
“It’s real ugly. You shouldn’t go out
there.”
The girl ignored Spencer and continued
out to the lobby. Spencer followed her. He knew
she would need some support.
As the four bodies in the lobby came into
view the girl let out a shrill scream. “DADDY!”
Tears streamed down her face as she tried
to run to the dismembered body of her father but
Spencer caught her and pulled her back. “I’m
sorry, he’s gone.” Spencer soothed, trying to be
sympathetic. He knew his words to be inadequate
so he rubbed her arm in support as she turned
back and clutched at his shirt. Not knowing what
else to do, he put his arms around her,
murmuring useless phrases. However, there was
a problem that was going to force this scene to an
end. Spencer still had no idea what was
happening, nor did he know what to do next and
he was tired and had to find a place to sleep soon.
He didn’t care to have a teenager tagging along;
there was a good chance she would get them both
killed. But he cared enough to not leave her in a
motel with her dismembered father.
“Come on, we shouldn’t stay here, there’s
another motel across the street.”
The girl looked like she was about to protest
leaving until Spencer walked out the door.

Spencer peered out the window of the
motel room at his car across the street. “Are you
going to be okay?

The girl nodded. She had calmed down
enough to talk.
“So, what’s your name?”
“Gretchen Jones,” the cute girl replied.
She seemed stable now, but Spencer thought she
was just putting on a good show—her whole
body was tense one second and shaking the next.
“Spencer Garza.” Spencer had to know
how long the strange winged creatures had been
gone. “How long were you barricaded in that
room before I showed up?”
Gretchen folded her arms in front of her
and shivered. “I don’t know, an hour.”
“What happened?” Spencer asked,
narrowing his eyes at her.
“My dad was stationed at Fort Bragg. We
were at home when the call came in. The army
had been positioned to launch a counterattack
here, the hotel was the forward command center.
He took me because he thought I would be safer
at the hotel than at home. We were surrounded
and overrun. He told me to go lock myself in a
room and, no matter what I heard, not to come
out,” Gretchen explained, tears streaming down
her face. “What are we going to do?” Gretchen
asked.
“We?” He looked at her hard. “I was
going to Miami. From there I was going to take a
ship to Mexico.”
Gretchen started to rub her hands on her
upper arms. She whimpered, her eyes pleaded
with Spencer to not leave her alone. “Everybody
I ever knew was here, and now they’re all dead.”
She sobbed, “There’s nothing for me here now.”
“No, I ... I just don’t know what is going
on and I can’t protect you, you need to look for
more soldiers. Tell them what happened. I’m
going to fend for myself.”
Gretchen wiped the tears from her eyes.
“You think a Glock 22 will save you?”
Spencer’s mouth dropped open. He
glanced down to notice the handle of his gun was
exposed, so he covered it with his shirt.
“You know something about guns?”
“Not guns
that
small. My father taught
me to field strip an M-16 when I was eight.”
Gretchen snidely remarked, her eyes still red
from crying.
Gretchen’s obvious knowledge softened
Spencer, and he relented. “Fine, we leave at first
light. Unless those things come back. Before we
go we’ll have to find some supplies.”
Spencer and Gretchen settled in for a
rough night. The sun quickly vanished behind the
horizon. Gretchen fell asleep while Spencer
opted to take the first watch. He knew sleep
wouldn’t come easy.
When the sun’s early rays broke through
the shutters, Spencer woke. He was seated in a
chair by the window. He looked at the girl
sleeping in the bed. He knew they had to get a
move on, find a place to get food and water. He
hated the idea of waking her; she seemed so
peaceful, so beautiful with that red hair catching
the light of the sun. He reluctantly climbed out of
the chair and took a seat on the bed next to her.
He brushed the hair from her face and spoke
softly. “Gretchen, it’s time to get moving.”
Gretchen stirred and opened her eyes, as
she did she smiled up at Spencer. Her smile faded
when reality sank in. Gretchen sat up and placed
her dainty feet on the floor before standing.
Spencer opened the door and Gretchen
followed him out into the quiet morning. He
climbed into the driver’s seat and looked at his
gas gauge; it had not become a cause for concern,
but it was stupid not to fill his gas tank here,
while he had a chance. Fortunately there was a
gas station that looked like it was still running
across the street from a grocery store several
blocks away. Spencer pulled up to the gas pump
and began pumping.
With a full tank they drove across the
street to get what could be found.
“You should probably wait out here,”
Spencer suggested. “I won’t be long.”
“What should I do if those things come
back?”
“I don’t plan to be gone that long,”
Spencer replied before getting out of the
modified GTO and heading to the front door. The
parking lot had a dozen vehicles and a flock of
shopping carts strewn across the lot close to the
store entrance. Spencer approached the door, but
before entering he took a couple deep breaths to
brace for the grizzly sight of dozens of panicked
patrons in their final moments. But upon
entering, all that was there were a couple
dismembered cashiers and lots of blood. With his
revulsion slightly tempered, he pushed past the
dead bodies, went further into the store, and
grabbed an empty shopping cart that was just past
the cash registers.
Outside, Gretchen sat quietly in the car.
She had been waiting for twenty minutes when a
faint but ferocious roar in the distance made her
blood run cold. “Oh no,” Gretchen cried and
terror wafted to the surface. “They’re coming
back.”
A thud shot past Gretchen’s ears and she
turned her head toward the windshield. A winged
creature shrieked at her through the windshield
and Gretchen returned the shriek as a terrified
scream. Then five loud, short sounds ripped
though the air. Gretchen whipped her head
around to see Spencer standing behind a
shopping cart, gun in hand. He had it pointed at
the winged creature, which with a terrible roar,
turned his fury on the one that wounded him.
The creature jumped down off the car
hood and, when standing erect was about three
feet tall and looked just like a spooky gargoyle
from the old European churches. Then it charged
at Spencer who fired his weapon six more times.
This caused the creature to flee, wounded but not
fatally. Spencer quickly loaded the new supplies
into the trunk and slapped a new magazine in the
Glock. Another hearty roar in the distance told
Spencer that it was time to go.
“Where are we going?” Gretchen asked as
Spencer climbed into the car.
“It sounds like they’re approaching from
the north; we might still make it to Miami,”
Spencer said as he plunged his key into the
ignition. The engine roared to life. Spencer
slammed his foot onto the gas pedal and the car
sped away. He quickly covered the short distance
to the I-95 onramp then took a heading south.
Gretchen looked back to make sure the
creature wasn’t following, “Do you think you
killed it?” Gretchen asked.
Spencer didn’t even look at Gretchen;
instead he stared out at the road. “I doubt it,”
Spencer replied before changing the subject. “We
can stay on I-95 most of the way.”
Six hours later Spencer and Gretchen crossed the
Florida border. It gave only a small sense of
relief—they really had no idea if Miami would be
any safer.
Spencer passed a sign indicating the exit
to Orlando when he noticed an object moving
towards them; a pickup truck. The occupants
noticed the old GTO because they were flashing
their headlights. They must have felt the need to
stop to share information; maybe it was a
warning. The truck angled over the median of the
highway and the cars pulled along side each
other. Spencer stopped and rolled down his
window.
“Where ya headed?” the driver asked.
“Miami?” Spencer replied making the
question obvious in his tone.
Something was wrong; the driver turned away
and talked to his passenger before turning back to
Spencer.
“You don’t want to be headin’ that way.”
The driver warned. “Back that way’s demon
country.”
“Demon country?” Spencer asked.
“That’s what they look like, must be what
they is.”
“Where are you headed? We’ll go with
you,” Spencer offered.
“I don’t know.”
“I faced one, and lived to tell about it.”
“What? You got one?” the passenger
asked.
“I wounded one,” Spencer corrected,
“back in North Carolina. Besides, our odds might
be better together.”
“What the hell, flip around. We’re going
out west. I hear there’s a safe place in Arizona,”
the driver said.
“It might be safe to assume that most if
not all major cities have been…overrun by these
demons,” Spencer guessed. “We should avoid
them.”
“I reckon you’re right,” the driver agreed.
Spencer flipped his GTO around and the two
vehicles began their trek west stopping near the
town of Crestview Florida to lay out their route,
top off supplies and put up some extra gas for the
pickup truck.
“You know,” the truck driver began “I’m
surprised we ain’t run into any more of those
demons lately. We’ve been on a main highway;
they should be all over the place.”
“Maybe they’re gone?” the passenger
suggested.
“Lester, you idiot. They ain’t gonna just
come kill a bunch of us then leave,” the driver
chided.
“No, I mean what if they’s doin
something else?” Lester corrected.
“Sort of a ‘bigger fish to fry’?” Gretchen
clarified.
“Exactly.”
“Another question,” the driver said,
changing direction of the conversation. “What
did you use to wound that demon in North
Carolina?”
Spencer pulled the Glock from the back
cuff of his pants and showed the weapon to the
driver.
“Son, if you’re going to keep the demons
at bay then you’ll need more than that.” The
driver went to his truck, reached into the bed, and
pulled out an M16 assault rifle.
“We got these when we was in Miami.
SWAT didn’t need them anymore so we took
‘em.” The driver explained as he handed the
weapon to Spencer then retrieved an ammo can
and handed that to him as well before giving him
a quick weapons tutorial.
The driver looked at the sun.
“We should get going. It’s gonna be dark
in a few hours and I want to put as much road
behind us as possible before then.” The driver
headed back to his truck with Lester and they
climbed in.
Spencer and Gretchen got into their car
and the two vehicles continued speeding down I10, eventually crossing the Alabama border
shortly after nightfall, then turning off I-10 onto
country road 64. Settling down on the side of a
river, the driver of the truck finally had time to
introduce himself.
“Sorry I didn’t get to introduce myself.
I’m Louis and this here’s Lester. We come from
all over, but we was in Miami when Hell
attacked. When those demons come out of that
thing, we got us some food, water and guns and
got the hell out of dodge.”
“I’m Spencer and this is Gretchen. I met
her in North Carolina. I came from Jersey.”
“Ha!” Louis chuckled. “I never thought a
city boy would have survived something like this.
You’s damn lucky.”
“How long until we get to the safe area?”
Gretchen asked.
“Well, we gonna drive through Missippi,
Louisiana, Texas, and New Mexico before we get
to Arizona. Hell is going to throw everything
they got at us. It ain’t going to be easy.”
“You know this is kinda ironic,” Lester
said, enunciating the last word slowly.
“Why’s that?” Spencer asked.
Lester pointed at the small river behind Spencer.
“That there’s the river Styx.”
“You’re kidding?” Spencer said with a
laugh.
“No I ain’t,” Lester assured with a stern,
dead serious expression.
Spencer stepped away from the campfire.
“We’d better turn in. We’ll need to get going at
first light to stay ahead of the armies of Hell,”
Spencer advised.
“I reckon you’re right. Lester, you take
first watch.” Louis agreed and promptly plopped
down and shut his eyes.
“Sure thing.” Lester agreed before
returning to the truck to grab his rifle and taking
post in a camp chair that was setup in the bed of
the truck.
Spencer sank down cross-legged in front
of the fire and soon slid to the side and fell into a
dreamless sleep filled with strange sounds that
could be anything, an indigenous animal, or
something more sinister. Spencer couldn’t sleep
very well; he had the same problem the night
before. When he did sleep it wasn’t for longer
than half an hour or so, and every time he closed
his eyes he saw an image of a city nestled against
a snowcapped mountain range. Thick, dreary
clouds hovered over the city, and suddenly the
clouds opened up and a brilliant beam of blue
light came out of the sky and struck the ground.
Every structure shattered as though it were made
of the most fragile glass.
The sun was a welcome sight, mainly
because the rag tag group was still alive, or at
least Louis and Lester were okay. Spencer
couldn’t find Gretchen.
“Where’s Gretchen?” Spencer asked.
“She went to the river a half hour ago,
probably went to clean up.” Louis replied,
pointing toward the Styx River.
“I’ll go check on her. We should think
about heading out soon, I’d like to reach Texas
by nightfall.” Spencer said before heading for the
river.
“Sure thing, we’ll be ready to head out
when you two get back.” Louis assured him.
Spencer headed to check on Gretchen. As
he entered the trees he could hear a river, a small
river, or maybe it was a large stream, but he
could certainly hear running water. As he drew
near to the water’s edge he heard the water being
disturbed, as though someone or something was
swimming in it. Looking at the bank he found
some clothing lying on nearby branches.
Investigating, Spencer found the shirt and pants
that Gretchen had been wearing.
“What are you doing?” Gretchen asked,
embarrassed.
Spencer's first impulse was to look away,
but he ignored it. His eyes went to the girl in the
river. Gretchen was in the river with water up to
her neckline and doing her best to cover up. Her
bare skin glistened in the faint sunlight.
“What are you doing here?” Gretchen
repeated as she used her arms to cover herself.
She was trying to bathe and the river offered her
only choice.
“I’m sorry; I just came to let you know
that we’re almost ready to leave. You were gone
long enough that we were starting to get
worried.”
“Well go so I can get out, this isn’t a peep
show.” Gretchen chided.
“Hurry, we have a long way to go.”
Spencer said before he walked back to camp to
find everything packed up and ready to go. Their
new travel companions had just impressed him
with their speed and efficiency.
After five minutes Gretchen came
walking out of the trees. Her wet hair and the
embarrassed look on Spencer’s Guatemalan face
told Louis and Lester all they needed.
“Catch her in the river?” Lester asked
with a laugh and a suggestive raise of his
eyebrows.
“In the car, let’s go.” Spencer said,
shaking off the embarrassment. Spencer got in to
his GTO and started the engine. To his surprise
Gretchen got in too.