Jack's Back ((Ascension: Book 2)) (8 page)

Relief

Lucifer drove like a bat out of hell. He rounded the corner of his block and saw Melanie and Jessie walking down the sidewalk hand in hand.

His heart leapt for joy. He'd grown attached to them in his own way.
Plus, if they were alive, then the situation hadn't gotten exponentially out of hand; he didn't want to show up on anyone's radar just yet.

He screeched to a halt and jumped out of the car.

Melanie looked bewildered and emotionally wrecked but the boy looked as he always did: Disinterested.

Melanie was stammering but Lucifer got the gist of what happened. Armed men had come for them and they'd somehow defeated them.

She said she'd killed at least two of them at the foot of the stairs so he had his work cut out for him. Those bodies had to go.

After a few minutes of negotiating he was able to talk Melanie into returning to the scene of the crime
so he could assess the situation. He wasn't exactly sure how easy it would be to bury the bodies without attracting any unwanted attention, but he couldn't give them fire in front of Melanie and the boy so he'd just have to wing it.

But when they went inside, the bodies were gone. There wasn't even any blood on the walls or the carpeting. But there had been a struggle, that was
for certain. Ornaments and knick knacks were strewn about, pictures were broken. The front door had been obliterated. So what the fuck happened to the bodies and the blood?

Maybe their comrades came back for them when Melanie took Jessie outside?

Unlikely, but at least he had one less thing to worry about.

He told Melanie to get some trash bags and he had Jessie go and get the broom and dustpan. The place could be put straight in less than an hour. He called up one of his followers, a handyman by trade, and asked him what it would cost to have a brand new front door put on his house ASAP. The guy told him to keep his money and said he'd be over in twenty minutes to take measurements. Lucifer hung up and called another follower. He said, "There's some kind of white ashy residue
on the floor in the church. Would you mind stopping in later to clean it up?"

Of course the guy didn't mind.
He was elated to have received a personal call from his pastor.

Lucifer smiled to himself. There had been no irreparable damage done from the attacks and he'd gotten a chance to flex out his powers.

This had been a good day.

Joy Ride

Jack's hoof kept slipping off of the accelerator and it was pissing him off. At one point
the hyena started to laugh at him so he reached into the back seat and clobbered it on the head. The pig snorted its amusement.

Shelly just stared out the window, wondering when
some unfortunate angel would pick up her scent and give chase. She hated the idea that she was live bait, but she hated the idea of being raped more, so que sera sera.

She looked at Jack as he drove. He had an intensity to him she couldn't quite wrap her mind around. He was a man on a mission.

His horn wounds seemed to be healing up, no doubt from all the webbing Dick-eyes was covering them with, and she'd swear his ruddy skin tone was beginning to lighten, the mottled black blotches clearing up too. He still wore the ridiculous outfit and the cowboy hat, but that just endeared him to her.

Finally Jack pulled over onto the gravel and said to her, "You fucking drive.
I can't take this anymore"

She knew he was just mad about his hooves so she didn't take offense at his outburst.

They got out and switched places.

They'd been driving around for hours already and hadn't come across a single angel. It was quickly becoming apparent to her that this was to be a marathon rather than a sprint. But she didn't think Jack had the patience to deal with the pace of it. He was getting restless.

To try and alleviate his anxiety she started to ask him questions.

"
Hey Devil boy, how old are you?"

"Concentrate on the damn road."

"Come on, I'm going to guess you're in your early thirties. Is that close?"

"Shut up girl."

"What's your favorite color?"

He looked out his window defiantly.

"Favorite food then?"

He reached into the backseat and grabbed the cat, Prozac. For just a second she was afraid he was going to toss it out the window to shut her
up, but instead he dropped it in her lap.

She felt that serene calm wash over her again.

She had thought Jack was the one tightly wound, but it turned out he was fine. She was the one who needed to relax and the cat gave her what she needed.

"Sorry Jack."

"No problem."

"So what's the plan? Are we just going to keep driving around
Wisconsin, hoping beyond reason that we get lucky?"

"You're right.
This is like watching paint dry. Let's change tack. I have something a little outside the scope of our plans I'd like to do since we're so close by."

"What's that?"

I 'd love to go and kill this guy in Illinois. Want to help me?"

"Not really. What did the guy do
to you?"

"He murdered an old
high school girlfriend of mine. Last year Lucifer told me about him. He said he's a local realtor and he golf's on the weekends, and my stay here is limited so why not make the most of it, right? Plus, if Lucifer knew of him, then maybe he knows something about Lucifer and his whereabouts."

She knew he'd added the last part to convince himself he wasn't just a blood
thirsty demon, but a man with a reasonable agenda that could pay off.

She shook her head
. She didn't want someone's death on her hands, but then the cat nuzzled against her neck so she said, "Sounds good to me."

Jack said into the rearview mirror, "Dick-eyes, see if you can find out where the bastard's hiding."

Dick-eyes did not look pleased about it, probably because it deviated so far from the original plan, but Jack glared at the spider and after a few seconds it seemed to relent.

Aftermath

Lucifer watched Jessie through his open bedroom door. The boy was hiding something but he couldn't for the life of him figure out what it could be. He assumed the boy was basically worthless now that he'd fulfilled his requirement; that is, help Lucifer escape the clutches of hell (even though the boy wasn't aware that the plan had actually worked).

But the child still had a link to hell-side and he was somehow still able to allow low level hell spawn to pass over to this side. That should have been impossible.

The only reason he was able to do it last year was because Lucifer willed him to do it from hell. The boy was born special but his gift should have withered and died when it was no longer useful.

Lucifer had
passed this niggling curiosity off as some type of aftereffect but something about it didn't ring true. He understood so little about the ritual that allowed him to escape. But it seemed counterintuitive that Jessie would still have access to hell when it was not a necessity now, nor would it ever be again.

He watched the frail child's chest rise and fall. He wanted to just walk in the room, grab the boy by his neck, and force him to spill the beans.

But that would be inappropriate. The last thing he wanted to do was to draw unwanted attention his way. He hated hiding his true self but it had become a necessary requirement to ensure he wasn't returned or obliterated by his jailor.

He went into the living room and sat beside Melanie. He hated this part. She needed to be comforted, and he sucked at faking compassion. Luckily the handyman peeked his head around the corner and said, "All set folks."

Lucifer quickly got up and cuffed a few hundred dollar bills in his hand. The guy tried to refuse it but he eventually gave up and said his goodbyes.

The events of today had made one thing crystal clear: He had to hurry his plans up
because he couldn't possibly keep every little thing under control. Things had to escalate quickly.

Fore!

Shelly stayed in the car. They were at a golf course near the
Illinois border. Even though it had snowed just days before, being April in Wisconsin, it was now warm enough to catch nine holes.

Jack and the monsters had emptied out of the car already and were marching down the fairway like an army straight out of a nightmare. Shelly considered dashing into the bar and grabbing a few road beers but she thought better of it; what if they had to make a quick getaway and she was inside, getting change
or getting hit on by a barfly?

She squinted to try and see what was going on. The monsters had all stopped and there was a small
figure of a man among them now. She couldn't see from this distance but she would bet good money that he was pissing himself.

Jack might not get a chance to kill the guy if he had a heart attack first.

She sighed and wondered, not for the first time, how her life had come to this.

Birdie

Jack knew the fucker when he saw him. He didn't actually know him in person, he could just sense the evil lurking inside his otherwise ordinary body
, despite the fact that the guy was in his early forties and wearing plaid pants and shiny white golf shoes.

The dude was so busy lining up his shot he didn't see them until they were right
on top of him.

When he did look up, first he froze on the spot, and then he screamed bloody murder. He tried to move but his knees
wanted to take him in two different directions, each counteracting the other

Jack said, "I am Satan and I'm here judge you." He almost smiled when the man pissed his pants. The Satan part was a nice touch
too. Just saying the name aloud gave him a rush of adrenaline.

"Do you know why I am here?"

The guy stuttered, "Bbbecause of mmy ccrimes?"

"Yes. Your sins have led me here.
You have taken innocent lives, yes?"

"Yes."

Right then Jack knew he was the guy who had murdered his ex. Jack had dated her in high school and then things went sour. Soon afterwards she wound up dead, mutilated and stuffed between her own mattress and box spring. He'd been the prime suspect until his many alibis came forward and vouched for him. The cops never did find the murderer.

But Jack was staring right at him. He wanted to ask him questions like, why did you do it, and were you dating her when you did it
, or did you just single her out at random, but his fury demanded immediate satisfaction.

"
Are you ready to be judged?"

"Nnnoo."

"Too fucking bad." Jack quickly reached down and grabbed the guy by the ankle. He lofted him into the air with one hand, and held him dangling upside down like that for a few seconds.

The guy screamed and pled for his life. He begged for forgiveness.

Then Jack pivoted his hips and half turned as he tossed him like a Frisbee. The look on the guys face was priceless and the hyena laughed maniacally.

Jack watched as the guy disappeared off in the distance. The fall would kill him for sure.

He yelled, "Fore," as a cruel joke and the pig snorted.

Dick-eyes just rolled his eyes at him
but Jack ignored it.

Jack had wanted to inflict funny little tortures on
the dude, but he knew Shelly was watching and he didn't want to mortify her more than she already was. It was too bad though because he didn't get the sense of release he was expecting.

It was at that moment that he realized Dick-eyes was right; they had a mission that was far more important than silly vendettas. Even though the mission itself was a grandiose vendetta in of itself.

Par for the Course

Shelly watched as a man came rushing through the air towards her. Then he soared right over the top of the car and disappeared from sight behind her.

He was a dead man flying. He was screaming the entire time. His screams had that Doppler effect of changing pitch as he drew near and then changing again as he receded from view.

She was glad the werewolf had stayed behind because it wouldn't have been so kind to the guy. It would have eaten him alive if Jack let it.

Enemy Within

Simon Jones walked the perimeter of his Pastor's house. He volunteered for the duty whenever he could get the time off of
his real job.

He had been one of Luke's first followers, and Luke valued those first few who had seen something special in him
, more so than those who'd come along afterwards. Simon used this favoritism to his advantage, to get prime surveillance shifts.

Luke Hadn't explained to them in any way that made any sense, why they were walking circuits around his house twenty four hours a day, armed to the teeth, but no one questioned it. No one but Simon.

Dave and Jacob had taken the earlier shift. Simon hadn't seen them when he came on duty, which was weird because they'd always stop and talk between shifts about their families and about God and the approaching apocalypse and whatnot.

Simon's suspicions were further piqued by the blood stains he found on the grass in the backyard and the bullet casing he found beside the front sidewalk.

No cops showed up, and none of Luke's family had mentioned anything out of the normal taking place earlier in the day.

The only other difference he noted was a brand new front door, but his imagination filled in the details. He guessed that the old door had been rammed in or shot to shit by whoever it was that left behind the shell casing and spilled the blood of his friends.

So where were all the bodies?

Whoever attacked the house had failed, so what had happened to them?

Why hadn't the cops come asking questions?

These were just more questions he would never ask Luke.

That was because Simon had a secret.

Simon had volunteered to clean the church on a Friday a little over a month ago. There was a sign up sheet for every duty and he was usually one of the first to volunteer for just about everything. 

But h
e'd been forced to call in sick that day. He went off to bed with a stomach full of cold medicine and he woke up a few hours later feeling good as new. He decided he was well enough to come in and do his duty for the church after all.

He was spraying down the urinals in the men's bathroom when he felt the floor vibrate
beneath his feet. It made his teeth chatter.

At first he thought it was an earthquake, but those don't happen in
Wisconsin to any discernible degree.

The air thinned out and he was forced to leave the bathroom to try and catch his breath. But once he exited, their was a stench that accompanied the poor air quality.

It stunk of burnt bacon and chemicals. But there was an underlying aroma that almost overpowered the awful stink. It smelled like a mixture of ozone and freshly baked bread, his two favorite smells.

Although every fiber in his body screamed out for him to get out of that church, he just had to find the source of the smells.

He tip-toed down the hallway and took a peek around the corner into the main assembly area where the sermons were given.

There were little shadows flickering across the walls from some unknown flame. He crept out a little more to try and find the source of the flame.

Maybe a gas line had ruptured? Maybe that was what had caused the vibrations; a natural gas explosion.

But what he saw was far worse. He saw Luke in flames. He almost rushed out to help him until he noticed the gas canister at his feet.

Luke had set himself on fire. Self immolation, it was called. He still had that urge to go help, but there was something decidedly off about the entire situation. For one thing, Luke didn't seem to mind it. He wasn't screaming or thrashing around. He just stood there impatiently, waiting for the flames to die of their own accord.

Simon watched in horror as the flames eventually died down, leaving a charcoal husk in place of his friend
and mentor Luke.

But then Luke started to scratch and brush at his burnt flesh. He worked at it for several minutes until eventually, big thick clumps of ash
and charred human flesh started to fall from him and gather at his feet.

When he was done, the naked man that Simon was looking at was no longer Luke and he was no longer a man.

He was so stunningly beautiful Simon nearly wept. He was taller and broader than any man and his musculature looked like it was honed for battle.

His soul was on display and it was perfectly sublime.

Then Simon heard a sort of crackling sound and saw the creature's back twitch. Two perfect angel wings unfurled behind his back. They were thick and strong looking, and they were black as night.

That was when Simon knew what he had witnessed. He'd just seen an angel slough off it's human disguise. And that angel was Lucifer.

As if to add credibility to his fledgling theory, the creature took flight, screaming in the most monstrous voice Simon had ever heard. It hurt his ears and forced him to flee just so his eardrums wouldn't burst. His heart was buzzing like a bee as he made his way back to the sanctuary of the bathroom.

He could hear the wings beating the air as the beast flew around inside the church. What was it doing? Was it just stretching it's wings out?

For ten full minutes Simon hid in a bathroom stall, holding his ears and weeping. His imagination got the better of him. He'd already run through a dozen scenarios where the beast would find him cowering in the bathroom and kill him, by the time the noises died off and the air became still again.

Then the air became thick with those odd smells once more. Simon was certain that if he crept out and took a look, Lucifer would be in flames
just like before.

He was also certain that once those flames died down, Luke would emerge from them as though nothing
supernatural had happened. Simon hadn't realized he was hyperventilating until it was too late and he passed out.

Thankfully no one found him like that or questions would be asked and Luke might become suspicious.

By the time Simon gathered his resolve and left the bathroom, it was dark outside and the church was silent and empty.

He could have easily ran away from it all. He had seen something mortal men were only supposed to see right before or after they died
, and only the bad ones.

Whenever he thought back on it, his breath caught in his throat and his h
eart skipped a beat.

But he spent many a night praying
to God for guidance, and when he received none, he realized Lucifer was his problem and he was all alone on this. He had to find the inner resolve necessary to deal with this fucked up situation.

Lucifer was alive and well on earth.

And worst of all, he had a son.