V.J. Chambers - Jason&Azazel Apocalypse 01 (28 page)

“Agnes,” I said. “It’s been a while. I’m sorry I haven’t called or anything, but you know, the phones have been down—”

“There’s no time,” said Agnes, and her voice was severe, not the sweet old lady voice I remembered. “I read my cards today. The reading was about you, Azazel. Terrible portents are afoot. Things are not looking good for you.”

When did things ever look good for me, anyway? “I thought the future was what I made it,” I said. Hadn’t she given me some Yoda spiel in Italy?
Always in motion is the future. This isn’t
Oedipus Rex.

“Darkness,” said Agnes/Nancy. “Death. Flies feeding on carrion. Needless slaughter. You are on a path to destruction.”

Okay. “Is this because I wouldn’t partner up with Jason just now, because—”

“It doesn’t matter whether you are with him or against him,” said Agnes. “Either way, you descend to the depths.”

“I thought I had choices,” I said. “I thought my choices were all I had against the forces I couldn’t control.”

“You have a choice,” said Agnes. “You remember the reading I showed you before. The Hanged Man. The sacrifice. It is the only choice you have left.”

“I don’t understand.”

“You are going to do things, Azazel. You have already begun. The power will overtake you. The power will consume you. The power will eat you alive. Vinegar. Honey. It’s all the same. The flies all drown.”

“Agnes, you aren’t making sense,” I said. But she was talking about flies. And I kept dreaming about flies. What did it all mean?

“You will lie dead while he feasts on your guts,” Agnes/Nancy growled.

I recoiled. Michaela Weems’ words.

“Or maybe,” said Agnes/Nancy, “you will feast on the guts of your enemies together. Or perhaps, the world explodes while the two of you are trying to work out your differences. It doesn’t matter. It all comes to the same thing. The two of you are the problem, not the solution.

There is only one thing you can do, Azazel. Make the sacrifice. Kill him. Kill yourself. Both of you must die. Both
of you
must
die.
Both of you must die
!”

Nancy’s eyes rolled back in her head, and she convulsed. Her shoulders hunched up and her head fell backwards, listless. She gurgled, her tongue falling out of her mouth, drool dripping onto her chin. She swayed unsteadily on her feet and then shrieked at the top of her lungs.

“Nancy?” I murmured.

Nancy’s head flopped forward and her eyes rolled forward, fixating on me. Stiffly, her arms came forward. She reached for me. “Kill you myself. I will.” She took a shambling step forward.

“I will kill you myself.”

I backed away. “Nancy,” I said, fear shooting through me.

Nancy flopped forward, landing face down on the ground. She didn’t move.

I started shaking. “Nancy,” I said again, but I was afraid to touch her. “
Nancy
!” I yelled.

The door to the church opened, and Kieran stepped outside. “I heard screaming,” he said.

Nancy sat up, rubbing her eyes with the heels of her hand. “What happened?” she asked. “How did I get here?”

Kieran helped her to her feet and put his arm around me, drawing me close. “Are you okay?” he asked me.

“That wasn’t Agnes,” I said into his shirt. “That wasn’t Agnes.” The Agnes I knew would never tell me to kill myself. The Agnes I knew would never try to kill me. Would she?

* * *

I explained the situation as best I could to Kieran as soon as I calmed down, but I didn’t go into much details about what Nancy had said to me. Nancy had no memory of any of it. I was going to keep it to myself. I had bigger things to worry about.

Kieran and I got to the radio room as soon as we could and started trying to get in touch with Headquarters.

“Wakefield team to HQ, do you read?” I said. “Over.”

Nothing. I repeated myself. Nothing. Crackles. Hiss. Static.

This could take a while. I sent Kieran to round up the team and fill them in on what was going on. Then I returned to the radio. I said it again and again and again, until finally, someone responded.

“This is HQ, Wakefield team. What can we do for you? Over.”

I began explaining again, spilling everything I could, from the captured Hallam and Marlena, to Jason’s army, to Sutherland, to the deal Jason had offered me and the fact I’d refused. When I finished talking, the person at the other end went to rouse Phillips, and I had to tell the story one more time. Phillips interrupted me with occasional questions, wanting to know if Sutherland was capable of what he threatened and how powerful Jason was exactly. When I was finished, Phillips was quiet.

“Phillips, do you read me? Over,” I said. A pause. “Phillips?”

“Loud and clear, Wakefield team,” said Phillips finally. “I’m going to authorize every unit I can to get out to you ASAP. I’ll alert the President. We’ll get you every man we’ve got. Within forty-eight hours, you should have every member of the U.S. army we can get you. Over.”

“Thank you, sir,” I said. “Over.”

I held a brief conference with the rest of the team at the church, discussing what we were going to do. We’d have to engage Sutherland. We’d have to stop him. And then we’d have to be ready to engage Jason immediately afterward. Things were going to be pretty hairy for quite some time. No one was pleased. Everyone was frightened. I wanted to calm them down, but I was scared too.

Eventually, I was left with Kieran, which was all I wanted. I threw myself into his arms, and he stroked my hair. We sat in the radio room on two metal folding chairs, clinging to each other.

“Did I do the right thing, not saying I’d work with Jason?” I asked. I was terrified that I was screwing everything up.

“You were perfect,” Kieran assured me. “You know we can’t trust him. You can’t ally yourself with him.”

“He’s crazy,” I said.

“He’s absolutely crazy,” said Kieran. “You did the right thing.”

But when we went to bed, even with Kieran’s arms wrapped tight around me, the dreams still found me. And Agnes was in the dreams. She was wrapped in a long, black robe, the hood hanging low over her face. She floated in a pool of red light. She cackled like a wicked witch.

I ran from her, but she followed, arms outstretched. “Kill you myself, I will,” she said in a Yoda voice.

“No,” I screamed, running away from her down a crooked hallway lit with red lights. I threw open a doorway at the end, and I was sucked outside into the river, which was filled with honey.

Agnes flew out of the door and hovered over me. “You can catch more flies with honey than vinegar,” she said, “but vinegar does the trick just fine.”

I realized I was surrounded by dead flies, stuck in the river. More were flying through the air.

Storm clouds gathered overhead, and the air smelled of vinegar. It began to pour from the sky.

When it touched the flies, they sizzled and dropped to the ground dead. The river was filled with dead flies, glutted, just like the bodies in Tennessee after I’d used my power to try to help them.

Agnes was by my side. “The Devil Card,” she hissed. “It will come into play.”

I put my hand on her head and shoved her down into the river of honey, holding her face under as she struggled. And struggled.

And struggled.

Finally, she was still.

And I was standing inside the lookout house with Jason. He wasn’t wearing a shirt. He came for me, his hands wrapping around my waist, pulling me tight against his body. “You feel so good,”

he whispered into my shoulder. My bare shoulder.

Suddenly, neither of us was wearing clothes.

“It’s never going to be like it was with me with him,” Jason whispered in my ear. “Why don’t you give up? After all, we’re only flies. It doesn’t matter what we do.”

I struggled, trying to push Jason away from me. “I’m with Kieran now,” I told him.

“You’re mine,” he countered.

“No,” I said.

“Yes,” he said, and he was inside me, and it was suddenly so, so good, like flowers opening up or a sweet crescendo of thunder across the sky, like the first time he made me come, and I clung to him and moaned into his skin.

Beneath us, I could see armies of flies, marching towards each other, marching towards their doom, but we couldn’t let them stop, because it felt so good. It always felt so good with Jason.

I pointed to the flies. “They’ll die,” I said.

“They’re only flies,” said Jason. “You and me, Azazel? We’re gods.”

He made me come again. I couldn’t think for the pleasure.

Agnes hovered behind my head, and she handed me a gun. I gave it to Jason and reached back for another gun, which Agnes supplied for me. I guided my gun to Jason’s temple lovingly. He placed his against my temple, a soft caress.

“No more killing,” he said.

“No more,” I agreed.

He put his lips on mine, sweet like honey, and I fingered the trigger of my gun. His tongue pushed into my mouth. I squeezed my trigger. I heard the thunder of a gunshot, and an echo, louder, closer to my own ear. And then…

Nothing.

* * *

I sat up straight, pushing the tangle of Kieran’s limbs off me. I felt like I couldn’t breathe. I had to get out of this room.

I stumbled into the hallway and tore into the sanctuary. The sun was just coming up and the light was streaming in through the busted windows, making jagged patterns on the pews. What had the dream meant? It had meant something, hadn’t it? The honey imagery made sense now, I guessed. Jason was drawing people to him to make an army. The flies. People seemed to be flies a lot in my dreams these days.

There was a saying, “You can catch more flies with honey than vinegar.” Literally, it meant that flies were drawn to sweet things more than destructive things. Figuratively, it referred to people.

It was easier to persuade people if you used flattery and compliments than it was if you were confrontational and mean. I’d known for some time that the flies in my dreams represented people. The honey in my dreams represented Jason’s power. He drew people with his sweet power, the kind that made people sing campfire songs. My power was like vinegar. I didn’t attract people. But the truth was that both of us, no matter the nature of our powers, were killing people.

You could attract more flies with honey than vinegar. But both of them killed flies.

And Agnes had said that we both had to die. She’d referred to a tarot card reading she’d done years ago, before Jason’s birth. She’d drawn The Hanged Man—sacrifice.

But she couldn’t really mean that she thought I should kill both Jason and myself, could she?

Agnes would never tell me to kill myself. I couldn’t believe it.

I brushed through the pews, gazing at members of the team who were sleeping. The morning light illuminated their faces. They looked so peaceful.

Maybe I could kill Jason. Maybe. But to put an end to my own life…That was madness.

I spotted Chance’s wheelchair just ahead of me. I could never leave Chance.

Chance. I didn’t see him. He should be sleeping on one of the pews, shouldn’t he? Where was he?

I ran to the wheelchair. “Chance?” I yelled.

Wait. No. What was that on the wheelchair?

It couldn’t be.

I picked up the digital camera. No. No. NO!

Chapter Eighteen

Jason and Polly were asleep in the RV, spooning. Polly was the big spoon and Jason was the little spoon. Her tiny arms were wrapped around his body, pulling him as tightly close to her as she could manage. Even in his sleep, Jason looked like he was trying to pull away from her.

I flung the digital camera at his head.

Jason was instantly awake, the way I knew he’d be. He sat straight up in bed, picking up the camera.

“He’s got Chance,” I said.

I stalked out of the RV, slamming the door behind me.

Jason was outside in three minutes, buttoning his pants as he closed the door behind him. “You woke up Polly,” he said.

I didn’t say anything.

He turned on the camera, and the sounds of Sutherland’s voice wafted out of it. I put my fingers in my ears. I didn’t even want to hear it again. Seeing it and hearing it once had been enough.

Sutherland had Chance, and Sutherland was hurting Chance. Hurting Chance very badly. And Chance wasn’t Hallam or Marlena. He’d never been trained by the Sons of the Rising Sun. He wasn’t the daughter of a con man who knew her way around a rifle. He was my little brother, and he couldn’t even walk anymore.

I could hear the screaming through my plugged ears. I started humming, aware that I might look like a crazy person or a five-year-old. But I didn’t want to hear Sutherland saying it again, even though it echoed in my ears.
And if I even suspect that the two of you are trying to rescue them,
especially if you’re using your powers, I will slit all of their throats.

In several seconds, Jason tapped me on the shoulder. I stopped humming. I took my fingers away from my ears.

“After you left, I got more intel,” said Jason. “Sutherland’s already on the move. He and his army will be here in two days. Now maybe you and I can take on his entire army, and maybe we can’t. But I know with my army, and the two of us, we can stop him.”

I took three shuddering breaths, trying to steady myself. “My baby brother,” I said. That was all I got out before a sob stuck in my throat. I swallowed hard.

“I know,” said Jason. “Sutherland’s a motherfucking bastard.”

“Jason, we can’t risk going after Sutherland now. Not if he’s going to kill them.”

“His army’s moving every second, Azazel. They are coming for us.”

“But—” And this time I couldn’t help it. I started sobbing for real. I just broke completely down.

Wails. Shaking shoulders. Sniffling. The whole bit. I was a badass, all right. How many times had I cried in the past few days?

Of course, I guess I was on my period.

Jason’s arms came around me. I stiffened for a second, but I didn’t have the energy to fight him.

I relaxed against him, sobbing into his bare chest. I hated to admit it, but it felt nice. Familiar.

Maybe I liked the way Jason smelled too. “He’s all I have. He’s the only one left.”