Night of Demons - 02 (8 page)

“Look, I realize I’m new here,” she was explaining to us a few minutes later, although it felt like a good deal more than that. “But can I be blunt? What kind of community allows anyone to go around in plain view armed like that?”

She jerked her head toward an angry, scowling Cassie, who was propped against her bike and had no plans to join us.

“I mean, I thought she was going to go postal.”

Our weapons had been put away by this stage. Everything had calmed down. Or, at least, to outward appearances anyway. I didn’t know about the others, but my brain was racing, trying to figure all this. An outsider? One who was a normal human being, and who didn’t seem to mean us any harm?

The three of us were seated around my original table, me and Saul both trying to hide our absolute bewilderment. There was almost a feeling like we were being played by some kind of trick. No one just walked in here in this way. Once again, it was Regan’s Curse, cast by a witch named Regan Farrow.

A few years after the Salem witches first arrived here, back in the late sixteen hundreds, she’d managed to overstep the mark. Annoyed a lot of people, got herself burned at the stake for it. She’d begged to be released, to no avail. And, as the flames climbed up around her, she had yelled out the words that had altered this town’s destiny right up to the present day.

“If I cannot leave, then none of you ever shall. And you shall dwell alone here.”

Which meant not only that we could never leave. It meant the outside world practically never intruded. Supplies came in, and we still managed commerce. How could we survive otherwise? But human visitations were a very fleeting thing. People arrived and quickly left, without so much as a backward glance. The only types who stayed for long periods—Willets apart—were either totally insane or terminally evil. And this Lauren Brennan didn’t seem to fit into either category.

I stared into her gently colored but attractive face. How the hell had she got past the curse? There was no direct way to ask that question, so we stuck to the subject in hand for the moment.

“Erm, Cass is…how best to put this?” Saul was mumbling, trying to get his own thoughts in order.

There were even more people walking past, and some of the stores were beginning to open. None of the café’s staff would come outside to serve us, though. They’d seen what had been going on, and were staring at us anxiously from behind a counter. And some folk, as they passed by, were glancing at us oddly, like they sensed that something genuinely unusual was happening. It made the way they walked a touch unsteady, like their own balance had been thrown off.

“She’s my assistant,” I put in quickly. “I’m a security consultant.”

The woman took another look at Cassie’s heavy weapons.

“Who do you consult for, Delta Force?”

The only response I could think of was a shrug. So I did that.

“Perhaps you could tell us,” Saul asked warily, “what it is you’re doing here? You’ve no jurisdiction outside Boston.”

Which was a good way to approach this. But she didn’t even seem to hear him straight away. Lauren Brennan pulled a troubled face, then raised her head—her neck was long and slender. And she peered around as if she were caught in some mild kind of trance.

“I’m still trying to figure out where this is,” she murmured. “It’s not exactly tiny, so why can’t I find it on my map?”

Then something slightly peculiar happened. She appeared to forget the question, almost as soon as she had asked it. Maybe that was the curse taking partial effect.

“You’ve heard of the Shadow Man killings, right?” she went on evenly.

Me and Saul both shifted in our chairs. However isolated we might be, news did still reach us from the outside world. In the normal course of things, incidents beyond our borders had very little impact on us. But we’d picked up on this item practically a year ago, and understood the murders she was speaking of were pretty awful things. Entire families had been killed, and their deaths hadn’t been quick exactly. So we knew about the Shadow Man.

But if she was here because of that…? I cast a darting glance at Saul, remembering our conversation of last night.

Then, rather more gravely than before, we returned our attention to our brand-new guest.

“Go on,” Saul muttered.

“It was my case. I saw the first bodies.” When her eyes dropped and she shook her head, I could see that it was something she would never manage to forget. “Of course, not long after that, the Feds took charge. They spent ten months getting absolutely nowhere. But then, finally, we got a break. We tracked him down.”

She pursed her lips.

“Cornelius Caldwell Hanlon. Didn’t you see the TV reports? But it’s almost like the guy has a sixth sense. By the time we got to his apartment, he was gone. We found out when we tossed his place that he’s obsessed with the Apocalypse.”

“Beg pardon?” I asked.

“He thinks the End of Days is coming. So far as we can tell from his diaries, the murders are some kind of ritual.”

Saul bent his head in and inquired, “To achieve what?”

“To turn himself into a higher being, who can survive the world’s end. Have you ever heard of anything crazier?”

I had, but it still sent a cold chill down my spine. If she was hunting down someone like that, then I was definitely on her side. I studied her more sympathetically.

The last time I’d seen anyone so tired and frustrated, I’d been staring in a mirror. But Lauren seemed a pretty hardy type. She ran her fingers through her hair, gathering her thoughts. Then she continued.

“News came to us of another killing. A gas station attendant, about fifteen miles from here. Then a state trooper told us about a stolen Chrysler, headed up in this direction.”

I recalled the grubby old car parked outside Lucas Tollburn’s place.

“So here I am,” she finished up.

“You came alone?” I asked.

That same muddled expression drifted across her face again.

“Some Feds were supposed to be on their way up here. I’ve no idea where they’ve gotten to.”

Which doubtless meant that the curse had driven those guys back. But the question remained—why not her?

“Um, did you have any problems, getting here?” Saul asked.

She stared at him, the bridge of her nose crinkling.

“How d’you mean?”

“Did you feel that there was anything…holding you back?”

His words puzzled her, as well they might.

“I got this creepy feeling driving in, if that’s what you’re referring to. But I usually get that out here in the sticks. And I’ve not got any sleep for the past forty-eight hours, so I’m kind of jumpy, I suppose. How’s this relevant, exactly?”

There was no way we could tell her. But I finally had a grasp on what was happening. I had no doubt that Lauren was a good cop. But more than that, she was an awfully determined woman, and was on Hanlon’s case like a pit bull with its teeth sunk in. She probably had been that way ever since those first few murders. And so, not even our ancient magic had been able to divert her from her goal.

She had ignored its effects and just come steaming in here. That must have been quite a feat, and I started to feel a growing respect for her.

“So you reckon this Hanlon might be here, in our town?” Saul was asking her concernedly.

It certainly wasn’t a comfortable prospect. And seemed to dovetail with what the Little Girl had warned me of. But something else occurred to me at that point.

“Serial killers often have a signature,” I pointed out. I’d read about it in a book. “Did Hanlon have one?”

Faint disgust lit up her eyes. So it seemed that I was right. Lauren let her face tilt, so a lock of pale hair dropped across her brow. It was obvious she saw us as provincial types, inexperienced in matters of this nature, and was wondering how far she could trust us.

“Well, we’ve always held that back,” she told us. “I’m not sure that you guys need to know.”

“No offense,” she added, quickly and rather unconvincingly.

Which was not nearly good enough. I knew that, and so did Saul.

“We had four, possibly five murders in this town last night,” he informed her.

And that changed her attitude instantly. Her pupils flared with stark alarm. She hadn’t even known about that. Hell, there was no reason why she should.

“One an old man. One an entire family,” I put in, picking up the thread. “Need to know, lieutenant? I think we have the right to know.”

And this new information certainly seemed to force her to revise her opinion of us.

“Okay, then.” She threw her hands apart and slid back further in her chair. “Hanlon carved a symbol into each of his victims, on the chest. Do I need to say any more than that?”

Even Cassie, over by her bike, went rigid.

“A theta?” Saul asked.
“Thanatos?”

Which was obviously correct. There was no other confirmation needed. Lauren looked like she was being pulled apart by two separate emotions. Anger, that there’d been more deaths. And relief at the knowledge she was firmly on the scent.

“Haven’t lost me yet, Cornelius,” she murmured into the thin air around her. “Man, I’m right behind you.”

“Looks like I might be staying awhile,” she announced, once she had come to a decision. “Where can I find a halfway decent hotel?”

Which—you have to understand—is the kind of question that we’d never been asked before. Saul ducked his head. Even Cassie looked away. So it was left to me to tell her.

“Er—we don’t have any.”

Her expression phased through to astonishment. Or maybe she thought that I was kidding her.

“There has to be something?”

“’Fraid not.”

“A Best Western? Or a Holiday Inn?”

I only had a vague idea what those might be, and shrugged again.

“My God, I really am in the back of beyond.” Then Lauren started looking faintly aggravated. “I don’t want to drive the whole way back to Boston, just to shower and change.”

By the look on Cassie’s face, that wasn’t such a bad idea. But my take on this was rather more fair-minded. Boston’s problem had become our own. Our community was under threat. I had no real idea what had become of Cornelius Hanlon. But his behavior seemed to be unchanged. And we might need this city cop. So it made very little sense if she was forced to go away.

“Someone could put you up for a couple of nights,” I suggested.

I tried to look at Saul again. But he’d already seen what was coming, and wouldn’t meet my gaze. He had a family of four, his wife included, and his house was already full to bursting.

When I glanced around at Cass, it was like staring at a block of wood. The set of her mouth told me everything that I needed to know. There was plenty of room at her place on Rowan Street. But she wasn’t offering an inch of it to this outsider, not after the way that they’d been introduced.

So it appeared there was only one option left.

“I’ve a spare room,” I heard myself say.

“Thank you. It’s appreciated,” Lauren Brennan answered.

We agreed she’d leave her car here. She could pick it up later. Saul would get her from my place and take her to the crime scenes in another hour’s time.

She went to her trunk, and got out a small round blue case that she told me she always carried with her.

As we headed off to my place, she produced a narrow pack of gum.

“Want some?”

I shook my head. We pulled up at a stoplight, a bunch of college kids heading across in front of us, clutching books and chattering. Yes, we have our own college. It was founded by Raine’s great grandfather. I’ve always rather envied them myself, the casual air they have. And the way they’re always talking, happily more often that not. But Lauren stared at them uninterestedly. There were plenty of their type where she came from. I understood that.

As we moved off again, her head kept leaning at slight angles, taking in the sights around her. The town had come fully awake. There was quite a lot of traffic in the center this particular day. Folk were filling up the diners. And the sidewalks were becoming fairly busy, bustling. The truth is, the Landing is a bigger and more heavily populated community than it genuinely ought to be. That’s because, unlike other provincial towns in New England, no one ever gets to leave.

“A lot of people here dress pretty old-fashioned,” she told me, apropos of nothing. “I already noticed that.”

I hadn’t before—I had no reason to. Clothing’s hardly a big issue in a place like this.

“The dress sense round here?” she went on. “It’s almost like stepping back into the fifties. I keep expecting Fonzie to appear.”

Was that how we genuinely looked, I wondered, to someone normal from the outside world? Had we been isolated so long that we’d fallen out of step?

But I wasn’t sure I liked her manners. Were city folk this blunt the entire time? Although I had to admit that, at close quarters, she smelled just as pleasant as she looked. And it had been a good long while since I’d had someone this attractive sitting next to me.

We got clear of the center, still heading north. The traffic became a good deal thinner, just us and a push-bike sometimes. There were wider sidewalks with grass verges. Rows of elm and maple trees. Well-tended front yards. And then finally, we were into an area of single-story houses, all extremely well maintained. Not a crooked shingle, nor a broken picket in a fence. Everything was looked after meticulously. I’d grown up here, and it had always been this way.

“My neighborhood,” I told our visitor.

“Looks okay.” Lauren turned the gum around in her mouth. “This isn’t exactly what you’d call a small town, is it? So how come it doesn’t show up on my map?”

“A printing error?”

Which, even to my ears, sounded pretty lame. She stared at me oddly and I couldn’t blame her.

“No. I don’t think it’s that. You got Area 51 round here or something?”

She cracked a grin. Then got her cell phone from her purse, and dialed a number far longer than any I was used to. One which had a city code. I couldn’t help but watch her, fascinated.

Someone picked up at the other end. Her whole manner went stern and businesslike.

“Jeff? It’s Lauren. I’ve found Hanlon. I’m in a place called…”

Then she tailed off, her expression growing puzzled.

“Jeff?” she asked, rather more loudly. “Hey? Can you hear me?”

The line apparently went dead. She peered at the phone, then tried redialing. And didn’t even get an answer, this time. I had been expecting that. She had no way of knowing it…but when you’re in this town, there is a real serious problem attached to communicating with the world beyond its borders.

“What the hell is going on?” She jabbed at the keypad a few more times. “It was working before.”

“We have trouble with reception,” I explained. “The woods.”

“The…?”

“We’re so deep in them. They mess up the signal sometimes.”

She squinted at me awkwardly, then stared out through her side window again.

“This really is an isolated place, huh? I couldn’t imagine living anywhere like this.”

“Oh,” I assured her, “it can get pretty interesting here from time to time.”

“What, you have a swap meet twice a year?”

Which should have annoyed me. But I was getting used to her attitude, and didn’t let it bother me. In spite of her appearance, she carried a hardness with her, like a shaft of steel inside a velvet coating. She had either been born with it, or it had formed. But there was no doubt that she needed it. I found it hard to even imagine what her job was like. All those gangsters. All those junkies. Jesus Christ, a city cop.

She’d obviously been places and done stuff I could only dream of. I was learning new things, the whole while she talked. And so the best course of action, I finally decided, was to simply go along with the flow of this, and hope she never found out how different a place the Landing really was.

“We’re an inward-looking community,” I told her. “We live our lives our own way, and keep ourselves to ourselves.”

She munched at her gum, then pulled a face.

“That’s Massachusetts for you, I guess.”

On the whole of Kenveigh Street, there’s only one home that shows any slightest sign of neglect. And it’s mine. The lawn out front is a little too tall, and has crabgrass. Some moss has formed on the concrete in front of the garage door. And none of the windows have been cleaned in quite a while. But people around here understand my history, and know that I’m kept busy a lot. So they’re polite enough not to comment on any of it. Which doesn’t mean that they necessarily like it.

When we pulled up, Lauren looked renewedly puzzled.

“You live here alone?”

This was a family-sized house. What could I tell her—that a would-be demigod had spirited them away? I opted for a simpler explanation.

“Divorced, I’m afraid. Two years now.”

“And you got the house?”

I was forced to think quickly.

“My wife left Massachusetts. Headed down to Florida. She took the kids with her.”

Sympathy began to creep into her gaze. “That must be rough. You ever see them?”

My jaw hardened of its own accord. “No.”

Lauren put her gum in the ashtray. “That sucks.”

“You get used to it,” I told her.

“People can get used to anything. Doesn’t mean it doesn’t suck.”

Fortunately, none of my neighbors were outside to see this. No curtains moved. I carried her case for her. It turned out to be very light. We headed up the front path. But as soon as we were inside, Lauren spotted the phone and asked me, “Do you mind?”

She headed to it without even waiting for an answer.

I already knew what would happen. But it gave me enough time to clear a few things up, ahead of her. I went into bathroom. Alicia’s nail varnish and makeup were still there, and there was a robe of hers on a hook on the door.

I bundled them up and hid them in a cabinet. Then I went into the living room and did the same.

I could hear her dialing a third time, rather angrily, by the time I’d finished.

“I still can’t get through,” she called out.

“Same problem?”

“How can it be? This is a landline.”

Which was a good point. I was going to have to watch my step.

“Maybe the switchboard’s down. It happens sometimes.”

“What?”

I changed the subject hurriedly.

“Let’s get you settled.”

I gave her Pete’s room, which had a larger bed than Tammy’s. He had been into all kinds of fearsome creatures, alive or long dead. There were dinosaurs depicted on the bedspread, snarling at each other. And a variety of large predatory cats on the wallpaper and drapes. An alarm clock in the shape of a T.rex sat on the nightstand. We had let him choose it all himself.

“Where’s your computer?” Lauren asked.

Goddamn. Here in the Landing, there was little point in owning such a device. A computer will do some of the things that it’s normally supposed to, for sure. But we cannot reach the outside world by means of one. We’ve tried sending out emails. And we’ve tried going on message boards. Our communications simply get ignored. And without that facility, the machine is just a box that pushes largely useless information at you. Our libraries have a couple. But I was forced to admit I didn’t have one.

She looked suspicious all over again.

“So how do you run a business?”

“All my work is local.”

“Wow!”

Wow indeed. I fetched her my bathrobe, and then showed her where the shower was.

She closed the bathroom door behind her. Water started hissing after that. I walked back into the living room. And, I have to admit, something clenched up hard inside me, listening to that retreating sound. How long had it been since anybody else had used the shower in this house?

My heart was thumping gently. And my mind felt slightly muzzy. I went to the mantelpiece, and stared at the photo of my family I keep there. Time seemed to turn to a gray blur and drifted by.

The hissing and spattering noises had stopped again, by the time I came around. I heard the bathroom door swing open.

Lauren padded, barefoot, past my doorway. She was toweling her hair, and didn’t even seem to notice I was looking at her. But I found it hard to breathe, for a while after that.

My robe was far too large for her. She’d rolled the sleeves back, but was tripping over the hems. Her face was turned away from me. And considering the way that I was staring, thank heavens for that.

It could have been Alicia. Same build. Same height. Almost identical coloration.

She was gone a moment later, back in Pete’s room. But she didn’t seem to close the door. I thought I heard the bedsprings creak.

It’s not her, I kept on telling myself. It’s a stranger. Although something in me didn’t want to listen.

No more sounds were coming from the room. I went back into the hallway. Reached out cautiously and rapped at her door. Then waited until I got no answer before peering cautiously inside.

It was apparent what had happened. She had only meant to sit down on the bed a while. Her bare feet were still on the floor. But she was sprawled out on her back now, fast asleep among the dinosaurs. Exhausted from the start of this, she’d gone out like a light.

I gazed at her for rather too long. Then I went back to the front door. Got out my own cell phone and called Saul, keeping my voice low.

“Wait a couple of hours before you come and get her,” I told him, describing the way things were.

“Which is to miss the bigger picture, Ross. What the hell are we supposed to do with her?”

“I’d say we’d better find this Hanlon quickly, since she isn’t going back without him.”

“And if she begins to suspect…?”

“She’s already started to.”

Saul grunted.

“Show her our provincial side, as much as you can,” I suggested to him. “She already thinks this place is weird, but only because—so as far as she’s concerned—we’re a bunch of hicks. Anything that strikes her as off-center? She’ll put it down to that, most likely.”

“Sounds like a plan, although a fairly stupid one,” he grumbled. “What are you going to do now?”

“I need to consult with someone.”

Which made him grunt again.

“I could ask who,” he said, “but I’d honestly prefer not to. Let me know what you find out.”