Dead Man's Eye

CHAPTER 25

Malachi looked at the time and cursed. He was going to be more than 30 minutes late to the meeting. That wouldn’t look good to his brethren, especially as some of them were questioning his ability to lead. If it wasn’t for the fact that he was the only one that could bring them through from purgatory, he knew they would usurp him.

Although Lincoln had tried to remain awake as long as possible, he had eventually fallen asleep. The demon knew that the human’s physical body was still in shock, and that to recover, it needed rest. So whether Lincoln liked it or not, he was dragged into slumber. But this only highlighted Malachi’s Achilles’ heel – that he was at the beck and call of a human’s sleep pattern.

As soon as he had the opportunity, he would remedy the situation.

But for now, he had a meeting to oversee.

The chatter of his minions echoed along the corridor, but as Malachi entered the room, they fell silent and all eyes turned to look at him.

The demon studied the assembled crowd, pleased to see that his army now amounted to 18, but also disappointed there weren’t more.

He needed enough to stage a coup. And when that time came, a new order would be established. The thought brought a grin to his face.

It didn’t escape his notice that no one mentioned his late arrival, probably due to word having been spread about what happened to the demon that he cast out of the nurse.

Some demons actually gazed at the ground out of fear. They knew their lives were in his hands.

“Right,” Malachi said. “I’m not going to waste time. You all know why you’re here. In the next few days we need to step up our procurement of hosts. I don’t care how you acquire them, but we need to obtain people in authority that will allow us unprecedented access to areas that will make our infiltration easier.”

“Like who?” an orderly asked.

Malachi glared at his underling. “Use your commonsense. We already have a couple of police officers, the so called law keepers that supervise human behaviour, and a surgeon and hospital staff, but we need people in high office, leaders of business, anyone that won’t be questioned and that can aid our cause.”

Malachi was about to continue when he saw Robhartach trying to attract his attention.

He frowned and inclined his head to indicate he should get on with what he wanted to say, but Robhartach only pointed at a cupboard and smiled.

“Spit it out.”

“This is your Pandora’s box.”

Not in the mood for riddles, Malachi sighed impatiently.

Before Robhartach could elaborate, the cupboard door burst open and Joanna and Stephen jumped out brandishing water pistols.

“Well, you’ve saved me the trouble of tracking you down,” Malachi said.

Joanna pointed the gun towards him. “Stay back.”

Malachi knitted his brows. “Or what, you’ll soak me.” He chuckled.

“Yes, with holy fucking water, you son of a bitch.”

The assembled demons stepped back, leaving a distinct gap between themselves and the two humans.

Malachi held his physical hand up and said in a mocking voice, “Holy water. Please, please not the holy water.”

Joanna and Stephen backed towards the door.

“Will someone just grab them,” Malachi said.

No one made a move.

“Do I have to do everything.” He stepped forwards, and Joanna fired.

A stream of water hit Malachi’s face. He licked his lips as though to savour the taste. “I prefer it with a dash of lemon.”

Joanna’s look of confidence vanished, replaced by a look of fear. She fired again.

“I had a shower earlier, but thanks anyway,” Malachi said.

Joanna pulled Stephen towards the door. None of the other demons moved to intercept them. Although he was immune to the water’s effect, he knew that his brethren weren’t. To think that a little blessed water could cause all this trouble.

Fear rushed through Joanna’s veins and arteries. She couldn’t understand why the holy water didn’t work on Lincoln.

While the other demons hung back, Lincoln strode towards them, barking orders to his underlings.

Joanna grabbed Stephen’s hand in hers – didn’t want to get separated. Stephen cried out in shock,

“It’s me,” Joanna said, keeping hold of his hand as he tried to escape her grip.

When he stopped resisting, she headed towards the exit.

Lincoln was approaching fast. Too fast.

Recalling the effect the water had on the other demons in the church, she said, “Shoot the other demons.”

“What’s the point? It doesn’t work any more.”

“Just do it.” Although it didn’t work on Lincoln, she knew that the other demons were holding back for a reason.

She aimed at the nearest figure and squeezed the trigger a couple of times, rewarded with an ear piercing scream. The human skin blistered and popped. Small curls of smoke rose from the skin.

Panic ensued as the demons tried to avoid being hit. As Joanna hoped, they blocked Lincoln’s path.

Knowing she only had a limited amount of water left, she increased her pace.

She edged back, using the cupboard as a point of reference. Something rattled as she knocked against it, and she let go of Stephen’s hand to grab it and found herself holding aloft a spade.

A guttural sound caught her attention, growing closer and she spun to see a blonde-haired woman rushing towards her. More out of terror than actual thought, she spun the spade around as hard as she could, felt the metal head connect with the demon, a jolt of pain thundering along her arm. The woman stopped mid-stride, head tilting at an odd angle. Then the dark umbra went out like a flame being extinguished. The woman dropped to the floor, head almost severed.

Joanna gagged and she fought not to throw up.

“Jesus,” Stephen said as he stared at the corpse. “That’s one way to stop them. Way to go.”

Joanna didn’t feel at ease with the compliment. Albeit possessed by something terrible, she had just killed someone. Sickened. Saddened. Morose. Tired. She felt anything but proud. But she didn’t have time to dwell on it, not with the spawn of Satan breathing down her neck.

She scuttled towards the door, squirting any demons that came too close.

Each howl of pain made her cringe, because she knew that each of the demons she fired at was once human; a living breathing person with hopes, dreams and fears.

Outside in the corridor, she turned and ran.

It took her a few seconds to realise that Stephen no longer accompanied her.

She stopped and turned back.

“Stephen,” she shouted.

She gritted her teeth. Come on, where are you?

Seconds later, as though conjured by her wishes, Stephen stepped through the doorway.

Joanna stared at him. It took her eyes a moment to differentiate between the background and her boyfriend, but despite her best wishes, there was no denying the black corona that surrounded his body.

Her jaw dropped. Not Stephen. God, no.

He stared at her, and she realised that if the eyes really were windows to the soul, Stephen was damned. “It’s no good running. Accept your fate,” he said.

“I believe we make our own fate,” Joanna said. She lifted the water pistol, gritted her teeth and squeezed the trigger.

Stephen’s haunting scream followed her along the corridor as she turned and ran, almost blind with tears.