Jack's Back ((Ascension: Book 2)) (6 page)

Freak show

Shelly was parched. For just a few seconds she forgot where she was, but then the smell of animals came to her and her memories kicked into overdrive.

She was being held hostage by hell spawn to try and lure angels to them. At least she felt like her life had some sort of purpose, nefarious as it was.

She wandered into the kitchen and stopped dead in her tracks.

Jack was dozing in the kitchen chair. So he was a fat liar; he did sleep. Then again, the bottle of whiskey in his right hand was empty so maybe he'd fallen into a booze coma.

But that wasn't what disturbed her. What made her halt on the spot was the sight of the creatures and what they were doing to Jack
as he slept.

The spider that Jack kept calling Dick-eyes was on his head and it was laying webbing across the two circular wounds where she could only assume horns used to protrude from. The werewolf was licking his hands and then alternating to licking his face.

Jack slept through the whole thing.

The little bats with wheels instead of legs were busily nipping at his thick leathery skin, barely moving out of the way in time when the werewolf changed position. The little cat was rubbing itself against him too, but that just looked like normal cat behavior.

But around this place, who knew what was normal and what was not?

In Jack's left hand was a steel red ball the size of a baseball. She noticed, not for the first time, that he always kept it with him.

She took a step closer despite the fact that there were nightmarish demon creatures all around, and held her hand out to touch the ball.

The cat hissed at her and its shackles raised. The werewolf let out a low throaty growl, and Dick-eyes swatted her ha
nd away with one of its thick hairy spider legs.

S
he took the not too subtle hint: The ball was off limits. She was just glad the monsters warned her rather than killed her.

She crept past them and grabbed a glass from the cabinet as quietly as she could. Dick-eyes watched her in silence as she filled the glass from the tap.

She realized she might not be able to get back to sleep after this.

She
walked from the kitchen and put the glass on the floor beside the sofa and then went off to find the bathroom to pee.

She found it and she almost screamed. The place was slopped in thick, oily blood. It dripped from the ceiling. It filled the sink and the toilet. Then she heard rustling from behind the shower curtain and a large white head peeked out at her. It was the creepy tiger with the blow hole. She'd forgotten all about it.

She decided she could hold it until morning, and so she traipsed back off to bed, trying her hardest to make her short term memories fail her.

The General Returns

General Marks was so close he could feel it in his bones.

From the surveillance van parked a block down he watched Jack
(who now called himself Luke) walk inside his house, oblivious to the fact that today would be his last day to draw a breath of air.

The
very notion sent a thrill all along the general's body.

The trail had turned cold almost instantly a year ago, when those bastards had slaughtered his men and taken off with the child, a child who just so happened to be a top secret classified asset.

General Marks had only be spared by his superiors because it was obvious to them that he could not have stopped it, nor could anyone in the military, regardless of training or foreknowledge. What those people had done was brutal and fiendish. And they'd left dozens of bodies in their wake.

This was his new assignment: Track down the fugitives and dispose of them before anything became public
knowledge.

The government was not in the business of holding and experimenting on children, at least in an official capacity. It was his job to bury that secret for good.

It should have been easy enough given that he had fifty highly trained men and women at his disposal and all the might of the U.S. military at his back, but alas, he'd been running in circles until now.

As it stood, he only had thirty two men with him
because he'd had to dispatch the rest elsewhere to try and pick up the scent of the fugitives.

They'd gone far and wide, as distant as
Tijuana and western Europe, so there was no way to call them back in time to involve them in the forthcoming ambush.

That was ok though, thirty two men should be sufficient so long as they kept the element of surprise and also, as long as the boy didn't have a chance to dream up any
more of those murderous nightmarish creatures.

He had to be careful, because this was his final shot at redemption.

Luckily for the general, Jack (Luke) had made a bit of a name for himself as some sort of cult leader. The general would have never pegged him as a religious nut, but you never knew with people nowadays.

One of his followers had
secretly taken video footage of one of the sermons, if you could call it that, and posted it online.

As soon as the general found out, he
attained the address for the video operator, then he went to his house, took him into custody and basically threatened the shit out of him until he gave up the location of the church.

The guy was still in custody and he'd remain there until the operation was a success.

The general absently touched one of the tiny wounds that covered his entire body. He received them after failing to kill Jack (Luke) as he escaped a year ago. He hadn't caused the wounds though.

In fact,
he had simply walked away even though he could have easily killed the General on the spot.

But then these tiny miniature soldiers, all less than a foot tall, just jumped him from out of nowhere.

He'd thought the fight had been drained out of him until those little fuckers started shooting him with their little guns and punching him with their undersized fists. His resolve quickly returned and he massacred those little pricks, one by one.

Each of them vanished in a flash of blinding light as soon as they were dead.

The memory brought a smile to his face. Nothing could make you feel more like a man than literally crushing other men beneath your boot heal.

Now it was Jack's
(Luke's) turn. After that, he'd move on to Jessie and Melanie.

He'd hit them in the morning in quick succession.

A Murder of Angels

Shelly awoke from a fitful sleep to the sounds of an almighty scuffle. The more she awoke the closer the sounds came. Her body wanted to react but her sluggish mind was having none of it.

Then Jack burst through the living room door with an angel in a headlock. They were both covered in blood, but none of it belonged to either of them.

Jack didn't give Shelly so much as a sideways glance as he dragged the angel head first into the kitchen.

Shelly was afraid to approach but too curious to stop herself. When she opened the door to the kitchen, Jack was shaking out his hands and Dick-eyes was spinning a thick web around the now sitting angels wrists. In a matter of seconds, the angel was bound to the chair, fully immobile
despite his thrashing protests.

The angel looked pissed. He spat, "You'll fucking burn for what you did to my brothers."

Jack laughed heartily. "That's like telling an ugly guy you'll take away his good looks."

"Kill me now and get it over with."

"I promise you will be taken care of. But how long will it take and what tortures will you endure until then? That is up to you."

"You can't actually torture me demon."

Jack pulled the red metal ball out and said, "I can capture your soul in this."

"So?"

"And then I can return to hell with it."

"So what?"

"Have you ever been to hell? It's not easy to escape, even if you don't belong there."

"You got out somehow and you're just a punk. I think I'll be fine."

"I sure hope you're right buddy, because if you're wrong, there's a whole smorgasbord of devilish delights down there for a pretty little angel like you."

The angel shut his mouth and started to pay attention to the massive demon now. He was clearly afraid for his soul.

"What do you need to know?"

"Where's your big brother Lucifer these days?"

"Um, he's in hell, dumbass."

"Um, no he isn't
, idiot."

"You're fucking kidding me?
How did he get out? It's not possible. I need to go see the boss. Kill me or let me go. But hurry up about it."

Jack laughed again. "I can't let you go now, dip-shit. You'd go to God and I need him out of the picture until I can get my hands on Lucifer.
The last thing I want is for God to have all the fun."

"Lucifer will eat you alive you low level demon scum."

"Maybe he will, maybe he won't. I don't care. I just want to put a beating on him. I suppose I don't really care if I lose in the end."

"Oh, you'll lose."

Jack lost his patience. "Alright buddy. You don't have any info. Time to get in the ball."

The angel squirmed around like his life depended on it.

Jack simply touched the ball against the angels forehead and he slumped over, dead.

A second later his body lit up like a flare.

Jack turned to Dick-eyes and said, "Did any of the other three survive?"

Dick-eyes said nothing but in that silence Jack found his answer: The other angels had died from their wounds. That was too bad. He'd have liked to ask them some questions
with his fists.

Shelly watched in abject horror as it all went down.

She was secretly thankful that Jack and his minions were there for her. That angel was a big dude. He might have actually succeeded in raping her. And if he was with three others, they would have had her pretty easily. Jack, the devil man, was her knight in bloody, gross looking armor.

She had daydreamed of loftier things for herself when she was a little girl
, like a prince charming or a rugged lumberjack with a heart of gold, but hey, you get what you get, and that ain't much.

Jack saw her in the doorway for the first time. He held up the red ball for her to see and he said, "This thing is active now so that means that you are not to touch it under any circumstances, you got it? It will kill you on contact."

Shelly nodded. She sure as shit wasn't going anywhere near the thing. Especially now that she knew it captured the souls of the deceased. She hadn't ever believe in the human soul, but there were lots of things she had been forced to change her mind about lately. If her soul was a real tangible thing, she was pretty sure it wouldn't enjoy a stay in hell.

The black cat rubbed against her legs and she had the sudden urge to punt it through a window. She wasn't a cat hater, or cruel to animals in any way, but she felt creeped out by its touch. She stared at the thing and watched it circle her legs, purring.

A serene calmness enveloped her and she suddenly felt very tired. The questions she had could wait until morning. She had some sleep to catch up on.

Sympathy For the Devil

Shelly awoke to the smell of pancakes. The black cat had taken up residence at her feet. It was fast asleep when she stood up and walked into the kitchen.

Only then did she remember the terrible things that had happened last night. But the kitchen looked clean so maybe she'd only dreamt it up? She'd always had an overactive imagination.

Jack looked at her over his shoulder and said, "Take a seat. I tried not to burn any of this, but I'm a demon, so you'll have to forgive me."

Shelly smiled and took a chair. Somehow she was starting to get used to all of this.

Jack had a kitchen towel draped over his shoulder and a spatula in his hand, as the room slowly filled with smoke.

Shelly stood up and said impatiently, "Who the hell burns pancakes?"

She snatched the spatula from him and said, "Sit down. I'll do it."

Jack's chest swelled and she heard him snort in indignation but he got his anger under control because he followed her orders and took a seat. The chair creaked and groaned beneath his bulk.

Shelly asked, "So how many angels souls are inside that murder ball?"

Jack said, "I'm sorry you had to hear that part. I didn't want you to know how awful the ball really is. I just wanted you to know that it's dangerous."

"I overheard you threatening that angel last night."

"I see. I have personally killed three angels with the ball so far. I killed the first two a year ago when I was still a man, and had no idea what the ball actually was."

"What is it?"

"It's a sort of Limbo where you can trap souls, but only if you've used the ball to kill them."

"Is it evil?"

"Sure sounds evil to me. What do you think?"

"Yeah, but it took out that angel and that guy was probably only here to rape me, so I guess despite the fact that it's evil, it's still good to have on our side."

Jack said, "Like me."

"I'm not convinced you're evil."

"Then you're misguided."

"You're trying to kill Lucifer, right? I think that makes you one of the good guys."

"Nope. Sorry. I actually sympathize with what Lucifer is trying to do. Under different circumstances I'd be helping him. I'm only here to get revenge for what he did to me."

"How many pancakes?"

"Eight."

"Holy shit!"

"I get hungry and it's been a long time since I had pancakes."

"What
did they feed you down there?"

"I don't remember much about being inside. I have hazy memories and vaguely formed recollections, but nothing I can put my finger on."

"Butter?"

"Of course."

"So how are you going to do it?"

"What?"

"Kill Lucifer?"

Jack shrugged and filled his oversized mouth with pancakes. They were about the most delicious thing he thought he'd ever had. He let out a moan, realized how inappropriate it was, and got himself under control.

Finally he said, "Lucifer tricked me and now he's got the only people I've ever loved. I might not be able to kill him but I'll find a way to hurt him. He won't be forgetting me in a hurry afterwards."

"If you're here to save your family, that's an altruistic act. Maybe it'll prove to God that you don't belong in hell."

"I'm honestly not worried about what God thinks of me. Fuck that guy."

Shelly cringed at the blatant sacrilege. Jack was a man with convictions and those were often the most frightful men to contend with. She was glad he was on her side, or at the very least, not against her.

Jack said, "We've got a lot of work to do today so I hope you're well rested."

"I would be but some punk
ass demon woke me up while he was killing an angel last night."

Jack smiled for the first time. This girl was a spitfire. He was glad to have her onboard the team. He only hoped Lucifer would react to her presence the way the other angels had. She was his ace in the hole.

Shelly watched through the kitchen window. She saw the pig and the hyena pass each other as they made the rounds.

She saw the
shed off in the distance. The goatraffe was in there. Jack had told her to stay away from the shed because the creature was a jerk. How could it be any worse than the werewolf or the giant spider?

Then she saw three freshly covered plots in the back yard and could only guess that's where the dead angels were buried.

She wondered if she'd go to hell by association for those three unmarked graves.

The cat rubbed its body against her legs and all worries left her. She knew instinctively that the cat was causing this euphoric bliss, but she welcomed it
regardless. Her nerves were frayed and the cat was helping stitch them back together.

"What's the cats name?"

"I don't fucking know."

"Can we call it Prozac?"

"Call it whatever you want. I'm still trying to figure out what benefits it brings to the table. It seems worthless so far."

"Well, it makes me feel better, if that's any consolation."

"It's not."

"Ok then. It's agreed. Prozac is mine from now on. You're not to put it in harms way."

Jack glared at her at first but his gaze softened. "Sure. The cat's yours. Have fun with it."

Shelly picked the cat up and draped it around the back of her neck like a scarf. The cat quickly fell asleep as though that was its purpose. Now she regretted her fi
rst instinct last night to kick it. The cat was pretty awesome.