The Jake Helman Files Personal Demons (37 page)

BOOK: The Jake Helman Files Personal Demons
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Jake felt anger flushing through his body. He had been sold out by both of these monsters!

“Splendid,” Tower said. “I hope you don’t mind, but I’ve had Kira draw up some contracts for us to sign. It’s best to cross our T’s and dot our I’s in an agreement as unique as this, don’t you think?”

Cain said nothing.

Tower turned to Kira. “My dear—?”

Taking took one step forward, Kira dropped both copies of the contract on the floor, oblivious of everything in the room except for Cain. She grabbed the flaps of her blouse and pulled them apart, popping buttons and exposing her full breasts. She stepped into Cain’s shadow and gazed up at his glowing pupils.
“Take me.”

Tower’s face collapsed like the infrastructure of a demolished building, and Jake blinked as Kira reached up and seized Cain’s skull with both hands. Standing on her toes, she pulled his head down toward her face and kissed him on the mouth. Probing him with her tongue, she pressed her breasts against his muscular chest, then wrapped her left leg around his right leg and ground her pelvis against his enormous penis.

“I think you programmed her too well,” Jake said to Tower, who watched his fantasy woman stroke Cain’s penis with one hand.

Fanning the fingers of one hand over the back of Kira’s head, Cain returned her kiss. Jake considered making a run for the wall hatch, but he knew that the demon would never allow him to reach it. Cain’s black tongue moved into Kira’s mouth, forcing her to open her jaws wider, her eyes filling with panic. He reached around her back with his right arm and lifted her off the floor. His tongue continued to slither into her mouth and down her throat like a great serpent, and Jake thought he saw spotted scales on its slimy surface. Kira beat at Cain’s chest and tried to kick him, but he turned as solid and immovable as a statue. Her throat expanded, as if she had swallowed a whole squash, and her body shook. She went slack in Cain’s arms and the serpent retreated back into his mouth. He released her body, which slumped against the cylinder’s base, and she stared up at him with catatonic eyes.

“SHE HAS NO SOUL.”

Swallowing, Tower fingered his amulet. “What did you do to her?”

“I GAVE HER WHAT SHE WANTED: A TASTE OF REAL POWER. SHE WAS TOO HUNGRY FOR HER OWN GOOD. YOU WERE SAYING—?”

Tower took a hit of oxygen and glanced at the discarded contracts on the floor. “I suppose we can dispense with the formality of a written contract.” He cast a weary eye in Jake’s direction. “A handshake’s good enough for me, isn’t it, Jake?”

Jake stared at the billionaire.
Can you read my mind?

Cain cracked his knuckles and Tower cringed. “A
HANDSHAKE, THEN.”
The demon extended his right hand.

Tower stared at the hand as if it carried the plague. Swallowing, he stepped forward, shifting the oxygen unit into his left hand …

Aiming the Glock in the direction of the old man’s head, Jake squeezed the trigger. Tower flinched at the sound of the gunshot, and the viewing window ruptured into a spiderweb of cracks behind him. Cain jerked his head toward Jake. A moment passed before Tower realized that he had not been shot.

Jake had been tempted to put a bullet in the old man’s head, but he wanted to avoid signing his handiwork if possible. Seizing the metal drum in both hands, he turned it sideways and popped two of the three latches securing its lid. He stepped to one side and hurled the drum at Tower with all of his strength.

Tower cried out as the drum struck his chest and propelled him through the weakened glass, which shattered. He disappeared over the window’s edge, taking large shards of glass with him. The spheres of light scattered in different directions, like pool balls on a break. The drum rolled over Tower’s head and struck the middle of the mosaic floor.

“No!” Cain bellowed.

The drum’s lid popped off and green liquid sloshed out as it rolled rattling against one of the columns supporting the roof.

Jake and Cain rushed to the shattered viewing window and stared at Tower, who lay on the floor, his robe covered with broken glass and blood trickling from his mouth. Moaning, Tower rolled onto his chest and propped himself up on his elbows. Ahead of him, the Biogen emerged hissing from the drum and sped at him with hungry eyes, slithering like a powerful snake. Jake had not expected the creature to be so fast on land. Eyes widening, Tower groped for the Anting-Anting around his neck. He opened his mouth to scream, which allowed the Biogen to squirm past his jaws. The old man struggled to his feet, gagging on the creature’s head. A high-pitched squeal escaped through his nostrils as the Biogen, feasting on his tongue, burrowed down his throat. He staggered toward the broken window, reaching out with his shaking right hand, still hoping to seal his devil’s bargain.

Jake vaulted over the edge, kicking Tower in the chest with both feet, and Cain’s fingers closed around empty air. Tower struck the floor and rolled to its center. He convulsed as the Biogen snaked inside him, the end of its tail disappearing through his mouth.

Stepping over the old man, Jake looked down. Tower stared up at him with hateful eyes, helpless as the Biogen chewed its way through his jerking body. Blood fountained out of his mouth and nose and the light faded from his eyes.

Cain stared at Jake, his fury palpable. The spheres of light formed a perfect circle around Jake and spun around him clockwise. He saw vague impressions of distorted faces within them, crying out for freedom. He stared through the ring of light at Cain, who shook with anger. Then he lifted his gaze to the stained-glass skylight.

Cain leapt over the window ledge with blinding speed. The spheres rose in perfect formation above Jake, escaping the approaching demon’s reach. Aiming his gun at the skylight as Cain bore down on him like a mad bull, Jake squeezed the trigger and kept it depressed, the gunshots sounding like firecrackers. The stained glass above him exploded, shards raining down. He stopped firing and dove free of the downpour, rolled across the mosaic floor, and came up crouching behind a column. Falling glass sliced Tower’s body and the Biogen inside it to ribbons and shattered on the floor before Cain.

One by one, the spheres streaked up and out of the Tower, comet tails trailing them, and vanished into the night sky. Jake felt his chest contract: a single sphere remained behind. It circled the chamber, dodging Cain’s outstretched hand as the demon tried to snag it.

Sheryl!

Jake rose to his feet and the sphere streaked straight at him. He spread his arms apart in a welcoming gesture, the Glock dangling in his right hand. The sphere struck his chest dead center and entered his body. He felt himself absorbing Sheryl’s energy, and for an instant he felt closer to her than ever before, every nerve in his body tingling with her purity. He saw Cain charging at him again, but he did not care; having achieved his goal, he stood ready to die.

A single thought pressed itself on his mind:
I love you, Jake
.

The sphere emerged from his back and Cain skidded to a stop before him, shrouding him in shadow. Sheryl’s soul spiraled toward the ceiling and disappeared into the night. His body still tingling, Jake felt tears in his eyes.

Cain pulled his arms back and thrust his hands into Jake’s chest, his forearms disappearing into Jake’s body. The triumphant grin on his face faded, replaced by a look of bewilderment.

Standing toe to toe with the demon, Jake felt no pain or discomfort. Looking over his shoulder, he saw Cain’s hands protruding from his back, grasping at empty air. Cain roared, filling Jake’s nostrils with putrid-smelling breath. The demon took a single step back, pulling his arms free of Jake’s chest and opening and closing his fingers. Jake patted his torso, which showed no signs of mutilation. A brilliant white light filled the Soul Chamber, solidifying into a familiar human figure in a cowboy outfit.

“Hello, brother.”

Jake felt relieved to see Abel again. Cain’s pupils pulsed red and steam rose from his body.

“STAY OUT OF THIS! YOU ARE NOT PERMITTED TO INTERFERE.”

Abel looked around the Soul Chamber and at Tower’s tattered corpse. “Oh, I’m just observing. But Jake’s beyond your reach now. His wife’s spirit has cleansed his soul.”

Cain stepped past Jake and punched Abel in the face with ferocious power. Abel collapsed onto the floor with his Stetson beside him, his nose having disintegrated in a soft explosion of blood. Jake watched wide-eyed as Cain straddled Abel, seizing his brother’s head in both hands, and drove his thumbs into Abel’s eyeballs, rupturing them. Abel screamed and Cain smashed his head on the floor over and over.

Jake stepped back as blood spread across the mosaic tiles. Abel turned still and silent, but Cain continued to smash his head on the floor, crushing his skull like a giant eggshell. A flash of white light made Jake close his eyes, and when he opened them again Abel had disappeared, along with the Stetson and his blood. Cain balled his empty hands into fists and stood facing Jake once more.

Holy fucking shit! Jake
thought, swallowing.

Cain’s shaking body pulsated red light, like a volcano poised to erupt. Turning toward the bloody shreds of Tower’s corpse, he reached out to it with the fingers of his left hand spread wide apart. Black light pulsed within the gory heap on the floor and a dark sphere rose from the carnage. Gray and black and bloody, like a malignant tumor, it floated toward Cain, drawn to him. Jake thought he saw Tower’s face screaming within the sphere before the demon’s body absorbed it. Cain trembled for an instant, like a junkie receiving a fix.

Jake could not help flinching when Cain thrust a finger in his face.

“W
e
WILL
MEET AGAIN
.” Flames burst from inside his body, enveloping him. Jake felt tremendous heat on his face. The flames burned out, as if a gas line had been shut off, and Cain disappeared, leaving behind the faint smell of sulfur.

Jake stood shaking for a moment, then crossed the Soul Chamber and hopped over the window ledge into the viewing room. Stepping before Kira, he pressed the barrel of the Glock against her forehead and squeezed the trigger. He heard an empty-sounding click. Kira’s mouth opened and she drooled a long strand of saliva.
Fuck it
, he thought, lowering the empty gun.

He studied Tower’s clone, which continued breathing inside the cylinder. Did it have a soul? Cain had said that Kira did not. Had he spoken literally? How would the world fare in the hands of a Nicholas Tower with no soul, even a corrupt one? Closing the lid, he fastened its latches and disconnected the life support equipment. A flat line appeared on one of the monitors. He glanced at his watch: 10:20 p.m. He decided to take one last walk in the Garden of Eden.

35

J
ake’s sneakers squeaked on the polished floor as he carried his luggage through the deserted lobby. Pulaski and Badeseo had followed Graham’s lead, and the Soul Searchers had disappeared. Exiting through the only unlocked door, he stepped outside. The cold night air refreshed him as he walked to the East River, where he tossed his Glock and its silencer. He felt he’d covered his tracks pretty well, but he’d still shot up the Soul Chamber. At Twenty-third Street, he hailed a taxi.

He checked into the Lexington—not his old room—and remembered to hang the
DO NOT DISTURB
sign outside the door. He unpacked clothes for the next day, then took a long, hot shower before falling asleep in the king-sized bed.

The next morning, he awoke with a start. Sunlight streamed into the room, and he did not recall any dreams or nightmares. He did feel a pang of disappointment: he had hoped that Sheryl would visit him one more time.

I’m alive, thanks to her
.

His muscles ached, his body bruised from his numerous encounters.

Purchasing the Sunday newspapers at a corner newsstand, he felt no desire to buy cigarettes; perhaps Sheryl had purged him of his addictions once and for all. He scanned the papers over breakfast in a coffee shop but found nothing in them about Old Nick, Tower International, or the Cipher.

It was Sunday, and he turned off his cell phone and rested.

On Monday morning, he checked out of the Lexington, bought the papers, and took a taxi uptown. He did not want to remain in the apartment without Sheryl, but it would have to do for the time being. The front pages of the
Daily News
and the
New York Post
featured photographs of Marc Gorman.
“REVENGE,”
announced the News, with the tag, “Police Believe Murder Victim Was the Cipher.”
“EXECUTION OF A SERIAL KILLER,”
declared the
Post
.

Skimming the articles, Jake learned that Gorman’s downstairs neighbor had complained to the building’s super when blood had seeped through her kitchen ceiling. The super had let himself into Gorman’s apartment and discovered his body, as well as “undisclosed evidence leading police to believe Gorman was the serial slayer known as the Cipher.”

Both papers featured two-page pictorial spreads on the life and times of Nicholas Tower, a.k.a. Old Nick, who had died of a heart attack on Saturday night while in the care of his personal physician, Dr. Kenneth Gavin. Photos showed Tower before he had become a recluse, and his personal monument, the Tower. His body had been cremated, according to Gavin, “to protect Mr. Tower’s impressive legacy from ghoulish paparazzi hoping to exploit his death.” The articles pointed to Tower’s aggressive advances in the genetics field as his major contribution to humanity, and speculated that he might have lived longer if the FDA had approved the sale of DCL-21. Neither paper mentioned Laddock or Birch, the skeletal remains in the tank, the dead clone, or Kira Thorn’s mental collapse. Folding the papers, Jake paid the taxi driver and got out.

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