Jake's Wake (8 page)

“God damn you!” Evangeline shrieked.

And that was enough of that shit. That was all that he could stand. Her scream broke the spell, popped him out of inertia.

It was time to beat the fuck out of someone.

Jasper stepped forward, nudged the Bible babies out of the way. Behind him, he heard Eddie run to Esther, heard her moan as he held her close. He shot a quick glance at his friends behind him. Saw Christian come up beside Evangeline, the both of them wide-eyed, still blank with fear. He flashed them his very best wink and grin.

Then he turned around, just in time to watch the door blow off its hinges like a church exploding, stained glass flying everywhere…

…and Jake stepped into the room, as the door hit the floor: flesh mottled with death, funeral makeup still on, eyes blazing like bloodred coals…

From Jake’s point of view, the moment was priceless. So many gaping faces to enjoy. So much awe in his presence.

He couldn’t have asked for a better resurrection crowd.

It was kind of surprising to see Jasper Ellis there, dancing back from the door as it skidded toward him. But as to night had clearly demonstrated, there was a first time for everything.

And then there were his E-Girls: the Big Three, together again for the first time ever. At least insofar as he knew.

He’d expected Esther to be draped around Eddie, although he’d half hoped he might catch them in bed.

But seeing them all together now—screaming and shrinking back, mostly in pairs—made him feel like he’d died and gone to, well,
here.

Which, at the moment, felt an awful lot like heaven.

That was when he started to laugh, and once he started, it was impossible to stop. He looked at them, each of them, deep in the eye. And the deeper he looked, the funnier it got.

And just when it couldn’t get any funnier, Jasper made his move.

Jasper wasn’t an idiot. What he wanted, more than anything, was to run.

But here he was, the first line of defense, and he had no fucking choice. Surrounded by screams, he turned his own into a roar of rage.

Then he winged his glass of scotch straight at Jake’s head, an overhand pitch that missed by an inch, but made Jake flinch, and that was a start.

Bible Boy’s ginger ale was still on the coffee table. He thought about throwing it, went
fuck that
, then just grabbed the coffee table and threw it, instead.

“COME ON!” he bellowed, marshaling the troops, as Jake backed up, raised his arms defensively. The table fell short, but the opening was there.

Jasper charged, headfirst.

The goal was to knock his ass down. If he got him down, he could pound his face in, grab his skull and smash it flat on the pavement.

Once down, the others might join in, if Jasper needed help pinning the fucker. They could kick him, pound him, take him apart, do what ever it took to make this stop.

He thought all this in the milliseconds before the crown of his head collided with Jake’s belly: making Jake whoof and half double up, pile-driving him back toward the door.

Jasper’s legs pushed forward with all their might, while his hands went down to grab Jake behind the knees, prepare to buckle them out.

Then Jake threw an uppercut that punched him in the chest.

Punched straight through his chest.

And out the other side.

It all happened so fast that he could feel his own lung flapping out the back of his jacket, almost before the blow to his chest fully registered. He screamed, and it came out in liquid form: a gush of blood from the mouth that doused Jake’s crotch and pants legs, like a period gone horribly wrong.

He felt himself hoisted upward, on the pivot of the arm that impaled him. His eyes shuddered into focus just in time to meet Jake’s gaze.

Jake looked almost as surprised as he did, although a whole lot happier about it. His death, after all, was over.

But Jasper’s had just begun.

The rest of Esther’s little garden party stampeded out the back door in a tangle-legged knot. But they all screeched to a halt when a crack of thunder split the night and a dazzling flash blinded them.

Or maybe it was Gray’s gun, going off one second later. Like an echo, doing much the same thing.

Evangeline skidded out of her high heels and almost deep throated the hot barrel of Gray’s .45. She recoiled and took a startled step back into the herd.

“You wanna get back in the house now,” he informed them, smoke curling from the Camel caught between his grinning lips. “Jake won’t like it if I blow your tits off. But I’m sure he’ll understand.”

He stepped forward, herding them, and they went back easy. Just the way that God intended. There were six of them, but he’d popped a fresh clip in, so bullets were definitely not an issue.

And the people who knew him clearly knew that he meant business. And the people who didn’t had gotten the hint.

“Cocksucker,”
Evangeline hissed: almost a whimper, almost a curse.

“Uh-huh. Do tell.”

“You killed those people to night…”

“Maybe one or two. Let’s just say I’m already warmed up. And you know what else? I don’t think they’re gonna be coming back anytime soon. Now get back in the fucking house. Ladies first.”

Jake was still up to his elbow in Jasper, who was horribly
still alive:
fighting with the last of his strength, using those final moments to try and claw out Jake’s throat.

For Jake, the struggle turned suddenly desperate. He had his free hand wedged under Jasper’s chin, forcing the head back as far as it would go, as he tried to yank his arm free: a frantic pushme-pullyou that strained his spine almost as much as Jasper’s. Even dying, the son of a bitch was strong.

But Jasper was going away now: limbs flailing on
automatic, mind barely aware. The darkness was calling, in a howl like the wind, urging him to let go.

Which he finally did, as Jake yanked free.

What hit the floor was just a human-shaped lump of empty meat.

Jake teetered slightly in the strobing lights, took a moment to revel in the kill. If his heart still pumped, it would be pounding right now. And the fireplace roared, as if in thunderous applause.

That’s when the others were herded back in.

Emmy was first.

This was gonna be fun.

The blood-drenched monstrosity standing before her could not be the man she loved. It was a dream, or a punishment from God, or a demon made flesh. But not Jake. Not Jake.

Then it smiled at her, and Emmy knew that smile. It was the one he used to charm, to smooth over the rough spots. It was the one that she had fallen in love with.

And the voice, as it spoke, was his, too.

“Look at you. My little Bible baby.” He stretched out the last words affectionately, just as he reached out with gore-matted arms. “Don’t be scared. It’s all right. Come to me.”

Emmy shook her head, but her legs started walking toward him, knees almost buckling with the effort.

“That’s right. There’s my girl…”

As if in a dream, she took another helpless step. The smell got to her, the closer she came. Emmy held her breath and forced herself closer, tears streaming all the way down her chin.

“My faithful puppy…”

Then he closed the distance, grabbing Emmy in a huge embrace, squeezing so hard that she wheezed and
turned nearly as red as the blood on his hand, now painting her face and hair.

“And have I got a bone for you,” he half crooned in her ear.

Dear God, he was hard as a rock.

Then he pushed her back to arm’s length, held her taut by the shoulders.

“But first, I gotta gives kisses to the missus!”

The next thing Emmy knew, she was thrown to the floor so hard that she bounced off the tiles, barely managing to get her hands up in time to keep her nose from shattering.

The pain was as harsh and jarring as the shock. But then Esther screamed, and Emmy rolled over, just in time to watch the Jake-thing sweep his shrieking wife up in an almost-dancerly embrace: a violent tango move that bent her backward at the waist as he loomed and leered above her.

Jake opened his mouth, and his black tongue came out. Black as his eyes, in that flickering moment.

Then he pasted her with a kiss, burying that tongue in her screaming mouth.

A moment later, Esther hit the ground, vomiting crackers and scotch and a bile not entirely her own.

That left Evangeline as the last woman standing; and Emmy watched as she stood there, rigid and quaking and shaking her head, as if
refusing to believe in him
would somehow make him go away.

“Aw, check you out,” Jake cooed. “Aren’t you a sight.” Almost sympathetic, as he moved in slowly.

“WHY AREN’T YOU DEAD?” she shrieked at him.

Coming closer. “Now what did I always tell you?”

“NO!”

Closer. “There’s not a power in heaven or earth could keep me away from you, baby…”

“NO…!!!”

Evangeline launched herself at him, swinging wildly with her fists. He laughed and fended her off. He was bigger and stronger, but she was ferocious.

“DAMN! Look at you go!” To the men, he added, “See why I could never resist this one? I’m tellin’ ya, she’s one wild little ride…!”

Then Evangeline punched him right in the face; and Emmy felt a sudden, strange flush of exhilaration.

It flashed at the moment his laughter dried up.

And died the second he slapped Evangeline so hard that the woman’s eyes went blank, and she dropped to her knees.

“NOT IN THE FACE, YOU FUCKING WHORE!” he howled. “What did I always TELL Y—!”

There was a whir of motion from Emmy’s left, so fast she barely had time to clock it. She hadn’t seen Christian move to the fireplace, pick up the fireplace poker.

But suddenly, there he was, coming up beside Jake and swinging.

Jake whirled, a blur with an arm at the end that caught the poker and wrenched it sideways, Christian screaming as his wrist loudly snapped.

Then Jake kicked him in the belly and he doubled over, dropping to his knees with the others.

“ANYBODY ELSE?” Jake bellowed.

But the only ones left were Mathias, and Eddie, and the man with the gun. None of them moving an inch.

Jake cackled, shaking his head. “WOO-HOO! You wanna talk about little bitches! I gotta admit, though, Esther. You sure know how to throw a party.”

Then he turned to the man with the gun and said, “Gray! Check it out, man! You catchin’ all this?”

“Yeah, you bet,” the gunman said. “It’s like date night at a battered women’s shelter. Can we just do this, now?”

“Oh, come on! I’m back, baby! I’M BACK FROM
THE DEAD! You know anybody else since Jesus who was able to pull that trick?”

“Look, I’m not trying to piss on your parade…”

“Then don’t…!”

“I just happened to notice that your front door blew up, and there’s blood all over the fucking place…”

Jake’s dead eyes blazed. “Well, excuse
me
for livin’!”

“And last time I heard, you had things to do, before the cops show up. Which you know they’re gonna do.”

Jake paused, thinking. The fire in his eyes went down.

“That’s right.”

“Important things.”

“All right. You’re right…”

“So…”

“You made your point. Shut up.”

Then he turned to the others, in evangelical mode, Emmy wincing as his gaze swept lingeringly past her own.

“And as for you—my dearly beloved brothers and sisters, who are gathered here together cuz you love me
so much
—don’t think I can’t see what you’re doing here. A little gathering in secret. Talking shit behind my back.”

Thunder boomed. Lights flickered like lightning.

“You better hope to God you didn’t touch my part of the house.”

Esther looked up from the puke on the floor before her, panic in her eyes. “We didn’t go in there, Jake! I promise!”

“Not the whole time I was gone.”

“I swear…!”

“I can fix the door,” interrupted a voice.

Emmy turned—
everyone
turned—to look at Eddie.

Esther’s handyman, or what ever he was, stood straight and stared Jake in the eye. He was trembling, yes, but there was something solid underneath the terror that kept his voice astoundingly steady.

“When we put in the stained glass, I took the old one out back. It’s still good. The hinges fit.”

“I bet they do,” Jake fired back. “And I like how you fucking change the subject. You been back in the deep end, where you don’t belong?”

“Just leave her alone, and I’ll take care of it.”

Jake laughed. “‘Just leave her alone.’ You all know that he’s bangin’ her, right? Just so nobody thinks they’ve got the moral high ground, here…”

“Jake, please!” Esther moaned.

“Shut up.
God
, you stink.” Jake sneered at Esther, poked a thumb toward Evangeline. “You’re as much of a whore as she is. At least she gets paid. You have to pay
me
to fuck you anymore.”

Then he turned at last to Emmy, and she felt herself not just shrink, but
diminish
beneath his nightmare gaze.

“As for you…” he said, “well, you’re gettin’ there. I like that you come when you’re called. But you’ve still got a lot to learn. You’ve all got a lot to learn to night.”

When the thunder boomed outside, it was as if God agreed entirely. Jake noted it, too, and it made him smile.

The world as they knew it was over and done.

And final Judgment was at hand.

If he lived to be a hundred, Gray would never forget a moment of it. He’d been hit with a Bible more times than he’d opened and read one; but he knew the story of Saul, who was struck from his horse by a vision that transformed him into the apostle Paul, on the road to Damascus.

Gray had seen the same thing happen to epileptic feebs and schizophrenics. And he wasn’t a born-again Jesus freak. In fact, he wasn’t transformed at all, so much as he was confirmed.