The Devil's Metal (24 page)

“What the hell?” Robbie cried out. “We’re
not cancelling anything.”

“Robbie, you were just released from police
custody,” Sage warned. “A girl is dead because of us. I think it’s
more than the right thing to do.”

“Screw your right thing to do!” Robbie got
to his feet and stood in front of Sage who was sitting on the
couch. He leaned over and got in his face, steely blue eyes against
chilled green ones. “If every band had to cancel their shows
because a groupie died, no one would ever go on tour!”

“Sit down,” Sage ordered with a keen sense
of calm.

Robbie threw his hands up in the air. “I’m
not going to sit down. No fucking way I’m going to sit down because
for once, you’re not acting in the band’s best interest.”

“It’s true,” Graham spoke up. I wasn’t the
only one surprised to hear him; he had been silent this whole
time.

“What?” Sage snarled. His gaze locked on
Graham’s head like a laser beam.

“I said,” Graham said louder, raising his
head and meeting his challenge. “Robs is right. We can’t cancel the
show. We’ve never had a strong pull in the south. The last time we
were here it was weak city. We cancel, we miss out. I thought a
pessimist like you would realize we won’t have a second
chance.”

Sage shook his head, his eyes searching the
ceiling of the bus as if he’d find some comfort there. “I don’t
believe this. Guys, come on. You know I’m not taking this
lightly.”

“Well maybe you should,” Mickey said, while
Noelle jabbed him in the side with her bony elbow. He swatted her
hand away and nodded at Robbie and Graham in some unspoken
agreement. “I mean, if we don’t go on, it’s like the cops won. Her
death would be in vain.”

Oh for crying out loud, I thought to myself.
I was so close to losing it on them but I bit my tongue. Hard.
Until I tasted blood.

Sage threw me an uneasy glance before he
focused on Jacob. “Jacob, talk some sense into these boys.”

Jacob was polishing his teeth with the edge
of his polyester jacket. He waited until he was done and satisfied
before speaking. “I’ve always believed the best way to run a band
is in a democracy. Let’s take a vote. All in favor of cancelling
the Atlanta show tomorrow night raise your hand.”

Sage and Noelle raised their hands. Mickey
appraised her with disappointment but she refused to look at him
and kept her eyes on Sage instead. I raised my hand too, knowing
someone would say something about it.

Jacob was the first. He gave me a polite
nod. “Sorry, Rusty, I’m afraid it’s up the band only.”

I put my hand back down, knowing it wasn’t
my place but still feeling rejected all the same.

“All righty,” Jacob carried on. “Now who is
in favor of playing tomorrow night?”

Graham’s, Robbie’s, and Mickey’s hands all
rose up. Jacob took it all in, making little noises of agreement
under his breath. “Okay, well the majority seems to have spoken.
We’re playing tomorrow night. End of story.”

“You’re an ass,” Sage said simply.

“Oh, dear Sage, you can say it. Don’t be
shy. I’m a cunt,” Jacob said unapologetically. “But I’m a cunt
who’s been in this game a long time, longer than you all, and
though it would be a nice gesture to cancel the show for a groupie
that no one here really seems to care about, it would be fatal to
us as a band. For once, Graham has a valid point.”

Graham looked pleased with himself, if that
was possible.

Jacob continued, “We need to conquer the
south. Lynyrd Skynard, Allman Brothers, southern rock has a
brilliant pull down here and we need to grab them before they get
burnt out. And anyway, we deliver a nice little statement to the
media tomorrow about the dead bird, it gives us free media exposure
and a nice sense of mystique that the local kids will go nuts over.
There’s always a way to turn that frown upside down and that’s what
I’m here for. I’m the manager. I manage so we always come out on
top.”

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

The drive to Atlanta wasn’t very long and by
the time nightfall rolled around, Bob had brought the bus into a
small motel outside of the city. We were staying at an incredibly
expensive hotel in Nashville, a splurge since we were playing two
shows there, so our digs in Atlanta had to be inexpensive and there
was no way anyone could tolerate being on the bus with each other
any longer. After the whole vote, no one really seemed to be
speaking and it was yet another awkward bus ride.

I was greatly looking forward to the fact
that I had my own room. I didn’t care that the shag carpeting had a
peculiar, sour smell or that the sink was filled with rust stains.
I loved the fact that I could unpack my duffel bag and I had a door
to close and buffer out the band.

I lolled around in the room, taking a
luxurious shower (the shower on the bus officially had no hot water
anymore), stretching out on the bed like a starfish, and reading
snippets of the
Carrie
book I brought. When it was getting a
bit too weird and spooky, I put it down and wrote a letter to Eric.
I would have called, but the long distance rates on the crackly
motel phone were exorbitant.

When that was all done, I tried to pen some
music-oriented prose but my brain was coming up blank. Everything I
wrote was wrought with purple doom like I was subconsciously more
distraught over the situation than I let on. Everything was
weighing on me heavily.

I closed my notebook with a sigh and lay my
head on the itchy beige bedspread. It was only nine o’clock and too
early to go to bed, but soon my eyes were closing like heavy
curtains.

I wasn’t sure how long I had been asleep
for, or if I even was, but my eyes snapped open to a weird metal
sound emanating from the bathroom. To my utter surprise, the light
in the motel room was out and I was engulfed in pitch blackness.
The only light I had was coming from the bathroom door. It was
closed and the light spilled under it like a garish sheet.

I held my breath, slowly propping myself up
on my elbows. My mouth was dry. I tried to listen and think at the
same time. How did the light go out? Did I leave the light on and
close the door after I had my shower? It was plausible but it
didn’t sit right; I was used to conserving electricity in my house
and turning off lights was like second nature to me.

Clink
.

There it was again. The sound of metal on
porcelain, like someone had dropped a razor in the sink.

My heart nearly stopped at that, then
slogged through my chest like it was stuck in mud.

I listened harder, ignoring the fright that
was building steadily in my chest, my eyes watching the light under
the door as if I expected to see a shadow appear at any moment. It
seemed rational. When it never came, I gathered up the nerve to get
off the bed. I blessed the muffling properties of the shag carpet
and crept forward until I was at the bathroom door.

I held my breath again, willing my body to
not have a heart attack. I put my head to the door, and as softly
as possible, laid it upon the wood.

I heard nothing. I waited.

A click shot through the layers of wood to
my ear.

The light from underneath the door switched
off.

I was now in total blackness. And I wasn’t
alone.

I had no time to think. I whirled around,
ready to run out the door, when I was met with an immense front of
frigid air that blew at my face and hair.

“Do you remember me now?” a calculating
voice echoed in the cold, coming from right in front of me.

I let out a yelp, panic squeezing every bone
in my body, and somehow managed to make it through the pitch black
room to the door. My fingers slipped clumsily on the knob a few
times before I managed to grasp it and fling the door open, feeling
nothing but immense dread nipping at my heels, like a hand reaching
for me in the dark.

I ran outside, sweat chilling on my skin.
The motel was one level and L-shaped and I was at the more isolated
end, surrounded by dark trees and a path to the small pool, the
only thing that was really lit up.

I went straight there, wanting to be as far
away from the room as I could be and around as much light as
possible. From the pool you could see the clerk in the motel lobby
and the trucks and cars roaring past on the distant highway giving
a sense of safety and comfort; life was going on and sane people
were out there.

Still, I scampered to the other side of the
pool area so I was facing my door—which was wide open—and the rest
of the motel and leaned against the white guard rail that went
around the glowing aqua water. I sucked in my breath, trying to
calm down.

This wasn’t a matter of hallucinating
anymore. Someone had been in my room…someone was still in my room.
Maybe I was confused and thought the voice was coming from another
place, but the fact was that though I could blame the bedroom light
going out due to a burnt-out bulb, it was too much of a coincidence
for it to happen to the bathroom one. Besides, I
heard
it. I
heard the click that happens when you flick off a light switch.
Someone had turned it off. And they had done it mere inches from
me. I had been a sitting duck.

Or something turned it off
. I quickly
dismissed my wayward thoughts. Dealing with a “someone” was bad
enough. It could have been anyone, a hitchhiker or someone creepy
coming in for the night. Maybe I had fallen into a deeper sleep
than I thought and some pervert had broken in and had been in the
bathroom getting ready for….

I shuddered. I had to get help before I
drove myself insane, and was about to run over to the motel office
when I noticed I wasn’t alone at the poolside.

Across from me there was the faint red glow
of cigarette embers. Someone was sitting on the poolside chair
smoking. I squinted at the shape, feeling panicky all over again,
and saw eyeballs glinting, a reflection from the waving pool light.
They were smoking and watching me.

“Hello?” I called out softly. “Who’s
there?”

The shadowy figure barely moved and they
certainly didn’t say anything. The cigarette glowed again. I peered
at it, trying to block out the light from the pool and focus on the
person. The more I stared, the more it began to resemble a woman. I
saw long pale limbs stretched out on the vinyl chair, a white face,
and long dark hair.

“Noelle?”

There was no response. Even though I felt
extremely unsafe and needed to go tell the motel clerk what had
happened, if it was Noelle sitting there in the dark, I couldn’t
just leave her.

I slowly walked around to the pool gate and
pushed it open with an eerie groan. I shot a look over to my room,
still waiting for someone to walk out of it. I kept one eye on it
and approached the smoking figure as one approaches a snake. I
considered the burning cigarette a warning rattle, and she was
coiled and ready to strike.

I was only a few feet away when my eyes
adjusted and the light from the pool became clearer.

It was Noelle. I kneeled down beside her,
nervously glancing between her and the open door. She was smoking
as if she were on autopilot. Her eyes were dry and staring blankly
forward. Her skin took on a greenish tone from the light.

“Noelle,” I whispered. “Are you okay?”

She didn’t answer. I looked back at the door
and put my hand on her knee. It was clammy and cold to the
touch.

“Noelle, we have to go. There was someone in
my room just now, and I think they’re still there. I have to tell
the motel clerk. Come on, it’s not safe to hang out here.”

I attempted to pull at her arm but she was
rigid and unyielding.

“Please,” I said firmly.

She finally looked at me, her head turning
my way like it was on creaky hinges. Her eyes glowed spookily as
she appraised me.

“Do you think that’s going to help?” Her
voice was as soft as the breeze ruffling her hair.

“What?”

She puffed deliberately on the
cigarette.

“Noelle? Please.” I pulled on her a little
more.

She laughed coldly.

“It’s too late. They’re here.”

A bead of sweat trickled at the back of my
neck.

“Who is here?”

“I told you. The monsters. They’ve come for
us all.”

My mouth went dry and I had to swallow a few
times before I spoke. “Noelle, please, you’re scaring me. I’m
already scared. Just come.”

She shook her head slightly.

“You go and tell whoever. They won’t find
anything. They hide themselves too well. But they’re here. And soon
they’ll be inside you. They’ll be inside me very soon. They want to
take us all. We’re owed to them.”

Debt collector
, Graham’s voice
whispered inside my head. I suppressed a shiver.

“Please,” I tried again. My voice cracked.
“You can tell me more later, Noelle, and I’ll believe you, I will,
but you have to come with me.”

“I don’t care if you believe me,” she
remarked flatly. “It’s already too late.”

I took in a deep breath, trying to figure
out my next course of action. Noelle was obviously as high as a
kite and talking nonsense. So why was she scaring me so much?

“I—,” I began to say but stopped when my
heart went dead cold. Noelle’s expression was frozen in absolute
horror, eyes wide, mouth open in a silent scream.

With fevered breath, I looked over my
shoulder to see what was causing the terror on her face.

On the other side of the quiet road that
went past the motel was a woman in white. She was staring at us,
eyes black pits, white hair flowing in the breeze. It was
Sonja.

But the more I looked at her, the more she
wasn’t Sonja. She was almost a ghostly apparition, partly
transparent, and leaking black fluid out of her mouth as she
smiled.