Hopper House (The Jenkins Cycle Book 3) (16 page)

“
W
ell
, go on,” I said, trying not to laugh. “Hit him.”

Hesitantly, the minister reared back and brought the belt down lightly across the man’s exposed buttocks—bringing a shriek behind us from the woman, who’d taken that moment to peek from the bathroom. She slammed the door and screamed profanity at us from the other side.

“You’ll have to hit him harder than that,” I said.

The minister nodded uncertainly—then again, more forcefully. He reared back higher and brought the belt down hard with a snap.

The man’s eyes popped open and he howled in surprise. He twisted and stared up at us in terror.

“
Why’d you do that for?
” he yelled, scrambling away, his words slurring from whatever drug he was on.

“What’s your name?” I said to him.

“Huh?” he said, blinking, staring back and forth between us. “Who are you people?”

I tried for a menacing sort of grimace. “I’m the landlord, and I asked you a question.”

He shook his head in confusion. “What? Uh … why? What are you doing here? I was just sleeping…”

“Your name,” I said.

“Patrick.”

“Is that
your
name or your skin’s?”

“His name’s Gary. I was gonna send something before I left, I swear. It’s just I’ve been away so long. Wanted to have fun first.” He laughed as if he wanted us to laugh too. “Man, you scared the shit out of me. Where’s … there was someone with me. Paid good money for her. Didn’t catch her name.”

“How long have you been away?” I said.

“I don’t know. A month? Too long.” He shook his head and blinked a few times. “I’m kind of fucked up right now. The hell you bothering me for?”

The minister was watching the exchange intently.

“I’m curious, Patrick,” he said. “Your new body—”

“Skin,” I whispered.

“Do you know much about him? Was he … is he a bad person? Good?”

“Who gives a fuck?” Patrick said. “Who the hell are you?” He rubbed his eyes and stared at the minister, taking in his robes. “Wait a minute, why are you dressed like that?”

The minister crossed himself, pulled a piece of paper from under his robes, and read from it.

“
I adjure you, ancient serpent, by the judge of the living and the dead, by your creator, by the creator of the whole universe, by Him who has the power to consign you to Hell, to depart forthwith in fear, along with your savage minions, from this servant of God—Gary—who seeks refuge in the fold of the church!
”

A funny thing happened as he read this. A pressure, like a bubble, built up around him, pressing against my psyche and forcing me to turn away. I saw a similar reaction in Patrick. And with the last word,
church
, I felt a terrible pain slice through my entire being, more spiritual than physical.

“What the
fuck
was
that?
” the man shouted, scrambling near the headboard, arms raised for protection.

“Is that
you,
Patrick?” the minister said.

“What? Leave me alone!”

He tried to leave the bed and I cut him off.

“I think it works best if you grab him,” I said.

The man’s eyes widened, and he reached to cover his dangly bits.

The minister reached across and grabbed one of his feet. The force that emanated this time was so powerful it blurred my sight, and the world smelled the way it does after accidentally snorting water at the pool. A howl rose up from the man, louder than any human voice could muster, causing my ears to ring. The minister yelled too, his hand still locked on Patrick/Gary’s ankle. Successive pulses of otherworldly pressure pounded outward from their contact, slamming me in waves. Then came a soul-crunching smash of power that drove me to my knees.

Desperately, I crawled for the door to get away, then stopped. In front of me, the naked woman was struggling into a skintight pair of pants. A second later, she grabbed her blouse from the floor and ran from the room.

When I looked back at Patrick, his mouth gaped wide but he’d stopped yelling. Then, from both eyes, snakes of inky darkness shot out and hovered over the bed.

So abrupt was their appearance that the minister fell back and skidded on his butt. In response, one of the snakes turned toward him and hissed, sounding like a million sibilant voices speaking at once in a strange language.

Just like the minister’s number in Tara’s phone—vanishing from my mind no matter how long I stared at it—the snake voices were exactly the same. I heard the words and then they were gone.

The second snake didn’t say anything—it lashed out with frightening speed and plunged into my chest. Pure cold like an icy river spread from the connection. My hands passed through the creature’s neck when I tried to pull it off.

No such limitations applied to the snake. Inch by bone-chilling inch, it dragged me toward Patrick. I braced both feet on the bed, leaning out from the frame, and that halted my progress. In response, another snake flew out of Patrick’s mouth and lashed itself to my neck.
Still
I held on, bunched up and angled off the bed in a tight ball. It couldn’t last. The snake squeezed my neck, constricting my airflow. If I blacked out, nothing could save me.

Patrick’s head was completely engulfed by the things. The creatures oozed into each other, forming a fat trunk of darkness that expanded to cover half his body.

A glance at the minister showed him back on his feet with a cross in his hand. He slashed and pounded the snake repeatedly with it. Unlike mine,
his
blows connected. With every strike, the creature hissed the vanishing language, and eddies of smokey darkness swirled up like puffs of ancient dust.

“Dan!” the minister yelled. “Get away from those things!”

I stared at him incredulously as the creature continued to choke me.

The minister landed a terrific slash with his crucifix, connecting powerfully to the snake’s head. Then, much like the snakes in the Gray Wherever, the entire length of the thing scattered in a shadowy haze and vanished.

Now there were only two to deal with.

I’d lost my grip on the bed and was sliding knees-first towards Patrick. With the disintegration of the minister’s snake, the ganglion mass of darkness had reduced by a third. I could see Patrick’s limp body again, though not his head.

The minister’s voice rang out: “
I adjure you, ancient serpent, by the judge of the living and the dead, by your creator, by the creator of the whole universe, by Him who has the power to consign you to Hell, to depart forthwith in fear, along with your savage minions, from this servant of God…”

Though his words weren’t directed at me, I felt their power as I gurgled and thrashed in the creature’s grip.

My face hovered inches from the inky darkness—then merged with it, sinking into a cold so awful it transcended physics and flooded my mind with hopelessness and sorrow.

From far away, in a softer, gentler universe, a warm hand grabbed my ankle. The warmth spread through me, banishing the terrible cold in the fire of holy zeal.

The minister dragged me off the bed onto the floor.

“Thanks,” I said, beaming up at his bloody face and crazy eyes.

I felt lightheaded. Perhaps my oxygen-starved brain gave out on me, or the minister’s superpowers had pushed me past my limits, or maybe my terrorized consciousness simply needed a reboot. Whatever the reason, I promptly blacked out.

W
hen I came to
, I found the minister sitting in a straight-backed chair staring at the bed. Gary the ride, or Patrick the hopper, lay spreadeagled with a pillow between his legs. Breathing, but not moving.

Drying blood streaked the minister’s face and neck, and had stained his priest’s collar red.

I crossed to the window and looked outside. The Hummer was still there, but the other car was gone.

“What happened?” I said. “I seem to have missed a few things.”

“If I had the strength to go through that again, I’d cast you out too.” He shook his head. “Demons, the lot of you. I had to see it for myself. That’s why I’m here. Now I know for sure.”

“You seemed pretty certain before.”

He watched my face as if searching for clues. “How can you be held accountable if you don’t know your crimes? You’re like a clean slate. Did you escape from Hell? Or were you simply allowed out?”

“I have a mom,” I said. “And a sister! I saw them like eight months ago, for crying out loud.”

“The tiniest part of your true self squeezed away and entered the world as an infant,” he said. “The only way a divine soul can enter this world and stay is as an innocent, so that’s what you did, severing yourself from limitless power and knowledge. But your sin—your defiance—still stains you, and the judgment of God remains.”

It was useless. The minister had abandoned conventional theology and was just making it up as he went along. The other times I’d talked to him, he’d seemed rational. Pompous, self-aggrandizing and humorless, but always rational.

I smiled at him like I would my dying grandmother. “Judgment of God.
Danel
. That’s what you said my demon name was.”

“Did I?” he said with a puzzled frown. “I don’t remember saying that.”

We were quiet for a time. I wasn’t thinking so much as feeling. Considering his ability to cast out hoppers, his words carried more weight than Rose’s aliens. And yet it seemed so outlandish. I didn’t
feel
demonic.

“What about those snake things?” I said.

“They’re not
snake things
,” the minister said. “Those are your chains of darkness, reaching across worlds. They tried to take you back. Have you seen them before?”

After a glance at the unconscious man, I told the minister what happened at the jail with my last ride, Trevor. How it wasn’t until I’d yelled at the Great Whomever that I kicked free, and how the snake things had shown up and eaten my memories.

“You threatened your Great Whomever and he listened,” the minister said. “Can you imagine God bending to such abuse? What does that tell you?”

“That I’m intimidating as all heck?”

The minister grunted. “No. It means your Great Whomever isn’t God. I never thought he was. What God would pick someone like you to rid the world of wickedness?”

“Or a grumpy, wishy washy prophet like you to help him?” I said. “Vain, too, I might add.”

“I’m
human
, Dan. That makes all the difference. I belong here, in this role, flaws and all. Just like you belong in Hell.”

That was the moment he could have kicked me out if he were so inclined, but all he did was sit there.

I nodded. “One good thing—I didn’t lose any memories this time. Whatever you did to the snake-chains, they left on an empty stomach.”

I got up to check the man.

“He’s asleep,” I said. “Can I hit him with the belt now?”

The minister didn’t reply.

Sighing theatrically, I shook the man hard and kept shaking until his eyes opened. He looked at me, then down at his nakedness, then scrambled backwards behind his pillow.

“Who are you?” he said, staring around him. “Where am I?”

“How do you feel, Patrick?” I said.

“Who’s Patrick? Where am I?”

“What’s your name?”

“Huh? Gary.” He crawled from the bed and promptly fell over. “What’s wrong with me? I feel so … like I’ve been drugged.” He stared at us in fear. “What did you sick bastards do to me?”

“Would you calm down?” I said, and helped him back to bed. I turned and examined the minister, still motionless on the chair. “Are you drugged too?”

He flicked me an irritated glance. “No.”

“I think we ought to get out of here before that woman calls the police or something.”

“Woman?” the minister said. Then he seemed to remember. “Oh. Right. We’d better go.”

He moved quickly to the door.

“Where’s he going?” Gary said. “Why’s he dressed like a priest? And why’s he bleeding?”

There was blood everywhere from the minister’s wound. I checked myself for cuts, but didn’t find any. Even if the cops came, nobody would do a DNA test without a murder. At least I hoped not. I needed to keep my ride out of trouble. The minister had signed up for this, but George was an innocent. Gary, though—
him
I didn’t know about.

“Minister, hold up,” I said, but too late. I heard the door downstairs open and shut. Shaking my head, I turned to Gary. “Who did you kill?”

“What?”

“You heard me,” I said. “You killed someone, or hurt someone. I wanna know who.”

The man hesitated a fraction too long, then pulled an indignant look. “I’ve never hurt anyone. Ask around, they’ll tell you: Gary’s an okay guy. You just remember that, pal—all you assholes. I never did nothing!”

And just like that, he seemed suddenly unconcerned as to why he was in a strange house, drugged and naked in the company of strangers. Now he was defensive and angry instead of wondering where he’d been for however long. Also, during his little speech, he’d let the pillow slip away, exposing himself. Most people didn’t forget their modesty so easily.

I didn’t know what he’d done, but he was an evil bastard, or my name wasn’t Judgment of God.

My problem was: I couldn’t prove it.

I
still had the keys
, thank goodness. In the minister’s “Dan’s the Devil” state of mind, I didn’t trust him not to drive off and leave me.

This was a hopper house, which meant there were sex toys and other things everywhere, and probably drugs in a donation box if I cared to look. I found what I wanted in a drawer in the desk next to the bed, nested in the coils of a cat o’ nine tails.

Gary was too drugged to put up a fight as I cuffed his hands behind him. After pocketing the tiny key, I stood him up and made sure he wouldn’t fall over.

“Hey, are you even a cop?” he said with sudden suspicion. “You gotta answer me if I ask—it’s the law.”

“Shut up, Gary.”

I found a pile of men’s clothes by the side of the bed and helped him into his underwear and pants. Naturally he tried to kick me, and got smacked in the head for his efforts.

“Ouch!” he said. “I’m sorry!”

“Give me a reason to do it again, Gary. Please.”

I nudged his shoes over so he could slip into them. That took a comical thirty seconds. I couldn’t get his shirt on without taking the cuffs back off, so I just carried it.

Together, we made our way down the stairs with me holding one of his arms in case he slipped. I guided him into the kitchen and said, “Stay put.”

A second later, I found the pantry door and opened it. Sure enough, there was a donation box inside, just like the house in Washington, but this one only had drugs.

“What the hell are you doing?” Gary said.

For lack of a better weapon, I selected a chef’s knife from a wooden block of knives, straight out of
Psycho
.

A phone rang from somewhere behind me. I knew who it was. This time, I didn’t answer. Because I’d destroyed the camera in the Washington house, the landlord didn’t know my face. But he did know my voice.

Like that other house, the room upstairs had two-way mirrors. I wondered what the landlord had seen during the snake attack. My theory was nothing at all—just me jumping around struggling in pantomime. Why? Because the darkness of the snake things was the same darkness that flashed from Rose’s eyes in that roomful of lawyers, and they hadn’t seemed to notice.

The minister
,
though:
he’d
seen the snakes. But he could exorcise hoppers and drop me to my knees with a holy eye twitch. Secretly, I worried he
was
some kind of prophet.

Just what the world needs: that guy at the head of a religious revival.

When the phone stopped ringing, I motioned with my knife. “Okay, let’s go.”

“Easy with that knife, asshole.”

“Very easy,” I said. “Remember that.”

When we got to the Hummer, the minister’s jaw dropped. He shouted from his seat, sending me reeling at a metaphysical level, forcing me to hang onto Gary for support.

He got out and confronted me.

“Are you out of your fool mind?” he shouted. “And where’s his shirt?”

“Right here,” I said, holding it up. “Would you please calm down? Oh yeah, you’re driving.”

I threw him the keys, which he missed and had to scoop up.

“Dan, you let that man go right now or you’ll regret it.”

“Get these fucking cuffs off me!” Gary shouted. “It’s freezing. I want my shirt!”

Ignoring them both, I opened the back door on the driver’s side and muscled him in. He tried sitting in the seat, but I shoved him to the floor.

“Ouch, get off me!” he yelled.

“Shut up or I’ll gag you,” I said and faced the minister. “You wanted me along because I’m the expert, and my expert opinion is we need to move.”

The minister stood there twisting in moral twistiness. Then he got behind the wheel.

I got in, shut the door, and planted my feet on Gary’s back to keep him from getting up.

“Just take us somewhere secluded,” I said over Gary’s grunting and cursing. “And let me borrow your phone.”

The minister backed out onto the road. A moment later and we were driving away.

“Your phone?” I said.

He handed it back.

“We can’t go around kidnapping innocent people,” he said.

“Just because Nate was innocent doesn’t mean they all are.”

“We’re all sinners, Dan. Especially you.”

That had me laughing for some reason.

“What was all that
unclean spirit
stuff?” I said. “The look on that woman’s face…”

“She caught me by surprise,” he muttered, jerking the car into a turn as we made our way north, away from the city.

Nate’s number wouldn’t stick until I got kicked. Luckily, the minister had it in his phone.

When Nate answered, I said, “I need you to contact that private eye of yours and look up someone named Gary Brenner … yes, I know this is kind of sudden … no I don’t think he’s a good guy … yes, we sort of need this now, and don’t forget I saved your life … well can you get him to do a rush job? Throw around some of that lotto money?”

When Nate agreed (they were visiting Tara’s mom), I read off Gary’s identification from the wallet in his back pocket. Nate said he’d call me back as soon as he had something.

I directed the minister to a country road through farmland and told him to keep driving. When I checked the phone a half hour later, the signal had vanished.

On the outskirts of a small town, I said, “I have a signal again. Stop when you can.”

Minutes later, he pulled off next to an electric substation nestled in some trees and killed the engine. Anyone driving by would have to turn quickly to see us.

“I can’t feel my leg,” Gary said.

I snorted. “Well,
I’m
not gonna feel it.”

The minister said, “How long did Nate say it would take? What will you do if he’s guilty of something?”

“He didn’t say, and no idea. But if he’s a bad apple, we can’t just let him go.”

Quietly, the minister said, “You have to understand. My main concern is ridding the world of these demons—”

“Demons?” Gary said in a panicked voice.

“Shut up,” I said.

“But normal sinners must be judged by God. I suggest we take him somewhere, drop him off, and then get to the next house.”

I blinked at him. “You still want to keep going? After I almost got my head sucked off by demon snakes?”

“
Demon snakes?
” Gary said.

I gave him a sharp kick.

“Especially after what happened,” the minister said. “It proves I was right. I can’t back away now.”

I was about to disagree, try again to get the landlord’s address, but then the cellphone rang.

Thanks to Nate’s money, the private detective had been more than willing to work on short notice. As Nate read off Gary’s extensive rap sheet, I tried not to meet the minister’s probing eyes. When he finished, I thanked him and hung up.

“Well?” the minister said.

“Innocent, as far as he knows. No police record.”

Gary twisted and looked up at me, then faced back down.

“Oh, thank God,” the minister said, crossing himself. “Listen, about the exorcism—I didn’t expect all that. Never heard of that happening at other exorcisms, and believe me, I did my research. But we’ll be ready for them next time. For the chains. We’ll stick you in another room when I get started, and…” He winced and touched his head. “Do you mind driving again? I have a splitting headache.”

“Do we need to get you to a hospital?”

“It’s stopped bleeding. I just need to rest.”

He switched to the passenger seat, buckled in, and adjusted his seat back.

I opened the door and helped Gary out.

“What are you gonna do with me?” he said. “Can you take these cuffs off? I’m dying here, man. What the fuck was that shit about demon snakes?”

To the minister I said, “Give me a minute. I’m taking Gary to the bathroom.”

Eyes closed, he tossed a languid wave in reply.

Sometimes I can’t lie to him—usually when he’s staring me down, suffused with righteousness. But when he was calm like this, I could lie like a congressman.

I marched Gary over to where the woods met a chain link fence with a “DANGER: ELECTRICITY” sign on it and sat him down. A quick glance back offered a partial view of the minister’s head.

“I don’t gotta go piss,” Gary said. “What gives?”

“You
do
have a record. Quite a long one.”

Gary groaned. “Come on, man. Everyone’s done something, but those charges—they were trumped up.”

“You were convicted,” I said. “Lots of evidence.”

“What do you care for? You’re not a cop. I figured it out early. You don’t even got a radio.”

“You were sentenced,” I said, “to twenty-five years for rape and imprisonment. Now you’re wanted for questioning for more of the same.”

Gary rolled his eyes. “Once you get in the system they’re always jacking you up for something. They don’t care who they collar, so long as they look busy.”

Nate’s information was solid. Gary was high on meth when he’d beaten a female store clerk unconscious and then sexually assaulted her. He’d only served ten years of his sentence because Avenal State Prison in California was notoriously overcrowded.

I checked the Hummer and saw the minister watching me. I waved for patience and he leaned back.

“Okay,” I said, “roll over so we can get these cuffs off.”

“Thanks, man, I appreciate it.” Gary struggled onto his belly. “The fucking pigs lie all the time. It takes more work to find real criminals. Now, whenever some gash comes onto me and I don’t wanna marry her, she runs to the cops. Shit like that.”

“That happens a lot?”

“You bet it—
ow!
” Gary’s voice was strained. “Hey, what are you doing?”

“Kneeling on your back.”

“Why?”

“Better leverage.”

Before any ladies showed up to marry him, I grabbed a fistful of Gary’s hair and sliced the knife deeply through his throat. I made sure to hold his head down so the spray soaked the ground and not me. While he bucked and heaved through his death throes, I kept an eye on the Hummer. A minute later he stopped thrashing, though his body continued to twitch.

Terrible feeling, killing someone like that. It helped knowing what a monster he was, but only a little.

I wiped the knife on Gary’s pants to remove any prints and left it there beside him.