Dead Roots (The Analyst) (3 page)

“To help you get him home, yes.” Keda's speech was stiff, the textbook English of a well-studied, but non-native speaker. His voice was deep and even.

“You coming on the trip with us?”

“Naturally. I will be hosting the entity.”

Keda pushed the door open and Tom was welcomed with a scene practically out of The Exorcist. It was a nicely furnished bedroom—queen bed, bookcase, full-length mirror-door closet, a window out onto the street with the curtains currently drawn.

The youth he had shot earlier was lying on the bed, looking exhausted. Tom only just then noticed a tall, solid, suited black man standing to his right as he walked in—there was that urge to jump again. He swallowed it down.

“Hey there, Tom.”

“Oh, Jesus, Rod. You're the size of a damn house. How do you do that?”

A smile came from underneath the man's thick, dark mustache. He folded his arms.

“You my backup?” Tom asked, watching Keda close the door behind him.

“Don't think anything bad's gonna happen. Keda's been in this gig since he was a teenager.”

Tom mused in silence that this Keda guy didn't look that old. He wasn’t very reassured.

“How are you feeling, Aki?” Keda asked pointedly to the youth. The shut eyes lolled open. The kid gurgled something out, probably obscene. Keda broke into a confident smile.

“How bad did you have to drug the host?” Tom asked.

“About three or four tranquilizers before he stopped going apeshit,” Rod responded quickly. “Really isn't looking forward to going home.”

“Jesus.”

“Aki feels free here,” Keda added calmly, “But I am trying to convince him it's best.”

“Yeah, good luck,” Tom jibed, adjusting his collar.

Keda began to disrobe in front of the bed. Tom averted his eyes. “Fuck. What is he doing?”

“Has to be naked for this one,” Rod responded, “To be as similar to the original possession as possible. It happens. It's common practice to strip naked for séances and summoning too. You haven't been to too many of these, have you?”

“Never. You know, how old is that kid, fourteen? Catch this on camera and we'd all be going to prison.”

Rod laughed. “Somehow I don't think that's the worst thing you'd be filming. First time, you said?”

“Yeah.”

“Heh. Well, I'm sure you've seen worse.”

“What do you...?”

Tom went quiet as he watched Keda, pale and thin, standing nude by the bed. Tom noted that he had particularly sharp hipbones and shoulders, and little body hair, leading Tom to again wonder how old the Medium could possibly be. Keda had his fists balled up at his sides. They started to shake.

It started very suddenly. Sounds of popping joints emitted from the Asian youth on the bed. His head jerked in random directions, far faster than any human could move his neck. A low scream gurgled up from his throat and threatened to fill the room.

Keda shushed the youth firmly. The scream remained trapped in the kid's throat. His body began to rise off the bed and Tom was reminded of earlier that afternoon. The body swung in the air to face Keda, hanging upside down just like before.

Tom felt as though the candles illuminating the room took on a red hue, though he was sure he was imagining things. His thoughts about the color of the room quickly vanished as Aki’s mouth distended, and Tom watched that familiar great eyeball rise up from the depths of his throat.

Keda's eyes opened—they were rolled up into the back of his head. He said something in Japanese, his voice now raspy and nothing like the smooth baritone he had heard at the front door.

The floating body said something in response, the voice tearing the air with no obvious source. With its arms and legs hanging and chest up to the air, it jerked back and forth, up and down. It was as if something inside was moving. The eye disappeared back into the mouth.

“What in the...”

Rod put his hand on Tom's shoulder, urging him to remain silent.

Something emerged from the kid's mouth with a wet sliding sound: raw flesh against itself. Tom would have taken the long, wriggling appendage for a tongue, were the actual tongue not clearly visible just above it. The kid started making sounds as if he were dry heaving.

Keda was making them now, too. His mouth was open wide, and spidery veins lined the skin around his eyes. His opened his maw wider.

The appendage slid out further from the floating body, closing the gap between it and Keda. It then plunged itself into Keda's mouth and straight into his throat, causing him to gag and jerk like the kid floating before him. It was an ugly red protuberance lined with veins, and was made of mottled red skin like a tongue rubbed raw with sandpaper. It plunged deeper down Keda's throat, moving along in spurts like a great earthworm. It grew thicker as it forced itself deeper and deeper into Keda's stomach until finally it filled the mouths of its two hosts from jaw to jaw.

Tom noticed that the curtain just beyond Keda was slightly open. He could see clearly out onto the street, meaning the people on the porch across the road could see in, should they catch themselves looking this way.

“Shit,” Tom said weakly, moving swiftly past Keda and throwing the curtain shut. As he turned around he caught a good, close look at the giant eye, embedded in the long thick red thing connecting the two mouths. Their gazes locked. It blinked at him slowly before disappearing down Keda's dislocated gullet.

Tom opted to look away for the rest of the ritual. It was over in another two minutes. The sounds persisted loudly the entire time.

Tom could tell it was over when the kid, Kenichi, started coughing loudly, expelling red phlegm from his throat. Rod handed him a box of tissues. Keda stood silently where he had been, eyes closed and head turned back.

“Is he almost done?” Tom almost begged.

“I am finished,” Keda said abruptly, his eyes opening. They had returned to normal. He bent down and put his pants back on first, slipping his turtleneck on while speaking.

“I apologize. As Rodney explained, the transfer works best when the new host is as close to the, shall we say, original conditions as possible. I am Japanese, and I am young, like unfortunate Kenichi here,” Keda said, patting the young man on the back to help him clear his throat.

“Are... Kenichi. Are you alright, kid?” Tom asked, genuinely concerned. Kenichi nodded wordlessly. After a moment, he broke the silence.

“I'd like to go home,” he rasped.

“I'm afraid you'll have to return to the hospital for now. Rodham here will take you.”

“We'll pick up a bite to eat on the way there, all right, kid?
And some Valium
,” Rod added under his breath. “You like Dairy Queen? Huh?” Rod and Kenichi left the room. Tom was jealous.

“Our flight is in about three and a half hours, now,” Keda said coolly, addressing Tom while putting on his shoes. “Are you packed?”

“Fuck no. I'll have to buy some new clothes once we arrive.”

“I'm sorry to hear that.”

“So you're... you're holding now, aren't you? Holding Aki?”

“
Hosting
Aki, yes.”

“I'm not sure I'm very comfortable about that.”

“I am a professional, Mr. Bell,” Keda responded, smiling. “If you wish, I can request to sit away from you on the flight.”

“No, no. I have to be near you in case anything happens.”

“You have not travelled with a Medium before?”

“Not after... not after seeing the ritual. I'm sorry, I just need a minute.”

“I will wait for you in your vehicle. Please be sure to blow out the candles,” Keda said curtly. He left the door open as he went. Tom noticed the Medium pause in the hallway. Keda took a deep, gasping breath and his head jerked quickly from side to side before he continued walking.

Tom sat down on the bed, taking a deep breath and wishing he could sink into the mattress and fade away. The airport, and a safe time for him to pop another Xanax, were another forty minutes away.

********

“If I may, I have questions for you, now,” Keda said matter-of-factly, as Tom shut a heavy steel door behind him. He rubbed his head, groaning.

“I think I've had enough questions for one night.”

“Did it not go well?”

“I'm still here, aren't I?”

“I can stay my curiosity a bit longer.”

“No, no, go ahead.”

“Do you have a wife?”

Tom set off down the long walk to the boarding gate. He grunted in response.

“I'm not really comfortable talking about that,” Tom said curtly, zipping up his jacket. Keda nodded in acknowledgment, starting off after him. His satchel bobbed rhythmically as he walked.

“Your job, then: do you consider it difficult?”

“Better than working retail,” Tom jibed. He looked at his watch, then at the margarita bar, then back at his watch. He considered many swear words but couldn't decide on one. There was no way he had time now.

“Do you work with many demons like Aki?”

“Work with? No. I flush them out and then subdue them so someone like you can take them back where they belong, or I just force them out of our plane entirely.”

“I hope you do not force me out of our plane.”

Tom paused for a moment and then chortled. “Was that a joke?”

“A very bad one. I am truly sorry.”

“It's okay.” Tom let himself relax a little. They passed halfway to their gate. Keda became unusually silent for a long while. Tom didn't mind much.

Arriving at their gate, Tom noticed with some irritation that they had about fifteen minutes before their flight. They’d had more than two hours to spare before airport security had picked him up for a grilling. His finger itched. He was totally unarmed, now. If anything went wrong...

“So you've worked with a lot of demons like Aki, right?” Tom asked bluntly.

“Very many,” Keda replied, settling down into one of the seats. Tom plonked himself down on one of those uncomfortable hunks of metal and vinyl. The seats were crappy, but Tom took his mind off the discomfort by peering out the window onto the tarmac, and watching the other tired travellers milling towards the gate from the various bookstores and gift shops.

“Christ. I need a book,” Tom said, standing up. “I'll probably fall right asleep, but I may as well be prepared.”

“Get me one as well, would you?” Keda added enthusiastically. He drew his wallet and pulled out two twenties. Tom grunted.

“Won't be that expensive.”

“A gift. Pick us out anything you like.”

“You um... you like anything in particular? I'll get you one of those Harry Potter books.”

Keda laughed. His mouth turned up into that same abiding smile that Tom was quickly finding familiar. “Anything you like the look of, Mr. Bell. I am a voracious reader.”

“Sounds good. Back in a minute.”

Tom skimmed the shelves. He thought he'd grab one of the candy bars at the counter while he was at it. He didn't have much time to be a scholar. All he knew was he didn't want anything out of the Thriller section. He used to love that stuff, but now it just reminded him of work.

He grabbed something with dragons on the cover for Keda and one of those nonfiction, political comedy pundit-jerk-off jobs for himself—something he wouldn't have to get too invested in. He also snagged two Snickers bars and the biggest pack of gum he could find. It was going to be a long, non-smoking flight.

He broke into a light jog back to the gate. The plane was boarding. Just beyond the first row of chairs he caught sight of Keda putting a pill into his mouth and swigging from a bottle of water as he swung his satchel over his shoulder. Tom frowned deeply and his heart pounded a little.
Chems?

“What was that?” Tom demanded, handing Keda his book.

“Ativan,” Keda replied instantly, slipping it into his bag. Tom wasn't sure what shocked him more, the fact that his Medium was doing chems, or how swiftly he volunteered the information.“Are—”

“Like the kind you took this morning,” Keda added, starting towards the gate without making eye contact. Tom followed him, talking under his breath.

“Yeah, but I know the limits. I just have to catch these things.”

“I know the limits too, Mr. Bell. You seem to have a very difficult time trusting anyone but yourself to know how to do their own jobs.”

“Listen, chief, we just met.”

“I realize that, and I understand your concern, but try to see this from my view.
Chief.
”

“And what view is that?”

“You see me as an annoying foreigner whom you have to babysit, and whose slightest mistake will result in total disaster.” Keda handed his ticket to the gate clerk and continued into the boarding walkway.

“That's my view, not yours,” Tom growled quietly, handing his ticket over to the clerk and following Keda through the hallway.

 “If you are not careful, you will become an annoying foreigner whom I have to babysit. Only I do not feel your very Western obsession of being in control, so you will be little more than a loud annoyance.”

“If you aren't in control, this all goes to Hell.”

“I am in control. I do not need to control what you do.”

“You aren't making any fucking
sense.
”

“I am not a fan of flight, Mr. Bell,” Keda admitted with a small sigh. He shuffled up behind some other passengers in the line to the door of the plane. Their conversation was drowned out by the hum of the nearby plane's engines. “I took a small dosage of benzodiazepines to help me remain on top of Aki. That is all.”

“You realize... when an Analyst like me takes benzos around something like Aki...”

“It forces Aki to manifest Visibly, yes.”

“So what's to stop that from happening here?”

Keda was silent for a long moment. They were next in line. A smiling Caucasian man took their tickets.

“23E and 23F,” the man said genially. “Middle row, no one else in it. Lots of room to stretch out.”

“Wonderful,” Keda said with a wide, toothy smile. “Thank you.”

“Yeah, thanks,” Tom added to the clerk. “Well?” he said expectantly, returning to his companion.

“That is possible. I won't lie to you,” Keda said simply. Tom was not satisfied. This was quickly becoming more trouble than it was worth.