The Repentant Demon Trilogy Book 1: The Demon Calumnius (11 page)

“His wife had been unfaithful throughout their marriage, his sons, as it turns out, were not actually his, and she had actually begun living with another man who was the biological father to one of the sons.  The reason for all this DNA testing became clear when his wife filed for divorce so that she could marry this man with whom she'd been having an ongoing affair throughout their entire marriage.  The second son is of unknown paternity.  Both were grown men by that time, in their thirties, although I'm sure it would still be upsetting news regardless of age. 

“Professor Petty—I still call him that, and always did throughout it all—had been diagnosed with cancer and had less than a year to live.  He didn't want his ex-wife to inherit his estate, and she had possible legal grounds to claim it, as it was considered marital property to which she was entitled in the divorce proceedings.  As for the sons, he had set up a trust for them years earlier and did not want to change that arrangement because he considered them his sons regardless of who had contributed the sperm.  His plan was for me to marry him as soon as the divorce became final so that he could will everything to me.  He began pouring money into accounts in my name, but most of that went to his final medical expenses.

“His greatest concerns were over his writings, research notes, and artifacts.  Professor Petty did not want all his life's work to end up lost.  She had no appreciation for such things.  He wanted certain things to go to the Biblical Archaeologists' Society, others to the Smithsonian—and I was one whom he could trust to carry out his wishes.  I didn't want a dime of his money, though he wanted me to have it.

“We were married for a total of seven months—a union of two celibates.  There was never any sex of any kind between us.  The two of us spent literally all of our time going over all his papers and deciding where everything would go when the time came.  That's when he gave me the amulet you saw in my apartment.  It's all I have left of this amazing, wonderful man.  It means the world to me.”

“I can completely imagine what a scandal certain people could make out of the whole affair, Abigail,” said Doug.  “That is so unfair.  And I'll bet you didn't get a dime out of it, either.  Were you able to take care of his papers?”

“I rescued his life's work by making a bargain with his ex,” said Abigail, “and I'm satisfied that he would have approved of my choices.  To keep it out of court, I made a settlement for just the papers, leaving his entire estate to her and the sons.  It was all I wanted anyway.  He would have wanted me to have it all, but he knew me, and he probably knew her lawyers wouldn't let our plan work.  I'm sure that where he is now, none of it matters anymore.”

“And I'll bet you stayed at his side throughout his ordeal with cancer and his death.”

She nodded affirmatively, and Doug reached his arm around her in a comforting embrace.

“We will be late for supper if we don't head for the bin Jabbar home immediately.  Let's give the old camel mounting one more try.  I have an idea.”

Doug knelt on one knee, offering his thigh as a solid step stool.  She looked doubtful, but he insisted that she wouldn't hurt him.  Cautiously, she placed the sole of her left foot on his leg; then standing upright, she swung her right leg over his head toward the saddle, grabbing the horn with both hands.  He stood slowly, holding and boosting the leg that had been resting on his.  She was in the saddle.  Then Doug mounted his camel, and then they were off.  In the distance they could hear the laughter of the Bedouin camel caretakers as they strode away.

They could not talk, not in any sort of conversational way, because the swaying of the ride didn't permit easy breathing, much less the formation of words strung too close together.  Also, Abigail's mount insisted on walking twenty feet behind Doug's.  It was as if Al Haml wanted to step in the very footsteps of the camel in front of him.  He had been part of a caravan for most of his life, and this is how he was accustomed to walking through the desert.  The poor animal had no steering mechanism of his own.  He only knew to follow the tail of the creature in front of him.  Then suddenly, the creature in front of him fell to the ground with a thud.

Doug scrambled to his feet, grabbed the reins, and urged the camel up.  All he got in return was one long, awful sounding bray and then silence.  The animal known as Al Fahl was dead.  Doug stood there looking up at Abigail, dumbfounded.  Then he dropped the reins and walked toward her.

Calumnius was perplexed.  He had nothing to do with this, though it would have been possible for him to bring about the death of an animal by constricting some vital organ.  But it just died, apparently of old age or some organic issue.  It was like an act of God.  Only God would not have done this because it was playing right into his hands.  Calumnius had wanted their bodies closer together all along.

“We're going to have to double up—no other choice,” he said, apologetically.  “We're halfway there with about ten miles left, but we need to get going before the sun goes down.  I don't know how to navigate in the dark, so we could get lost.  Scoot as far back on the saddle as possible,” he motioned, “so that I can drive.  You can hang on to the back ridge of the saddle—at least as we approach the house.  It might be more comfortable to just lean against me as long as we aren't seen—at least by any Muslims.”

Abigail pushed with her knees, bouncing her way up against the rear of the saddle.  She had to hang on tight with her arms behind her on the rim of the saddle as Doug motioned the camel to kneel so that he could mount.  Al Haml did not want to cooperate, but he finally complied, and Doug was seated.  Only, as he commanded the animal to go forward, Al Haml stood stubbornly, bellowing in protest.  He wanted to follow, not lead.

Doug slid off the beast angrily and tried to pull him, thinking once started he could hop back on, that Al Haml would forget no camel was ahead of him.  But Al Haml could not forget what he did not know.  Doug began to think that perhaps this animal had never even been trained to rein at all.  He had been a trail animal used on caravans to carry baggage—not people.  That would explain that cheap price Abdul bin Jabbar had bragged about.

Things quickly got worse.  A cloud appeared on the horizon and seemed to be headed their way.  Only it was not rain.  Rain would have been welcomed.  It was a serious sand storm.

“Get down quickly,” Doug ordered Abigail.

She obeyed, sliding down the camel’s side without waiting for him to kneel.

Doug removed the saddle and blanket from the camel and ordered Al Haml to his knees.  “Until it passes, our only hope is to lie next to the camel and cover ourselves.  We will only be able to breathe the air in our little space.  Hopefully, it will pass over quickly,” he said while tucking the saddle blanket underneath the camel's belly while the two of them got on top of it and covered their heads with the other end.  The blankets were made extra long for just this purpose.  The stench of the animal was an odor like cow urine, only stronger.  Doug looked very worried, and that gave her great concern.

Calumnius wondered what could be happening.  He did not believe in coincidence.  If this was an act of God, why would He be helping to bring about even more closeness for this couple—more temptation, sin, and guilt—all of this was inexplicably going his way, especially if they died in this predicament. 
A sin of lust followed by instant death—these two would be doomed to hell.  A two-fer,
he thought. 
Unless they remain pure,
it suddenly occurred to him. 
If they die pure, it will be God's victory.
  Then he understood what was happening.  God was defeating him.  He roared loudly in anger though it went unheard in the human world.

The sand swept over their bodies, mounding into a drift almost ten inches deep in less than five minutes.  The wind howled around them.  Al Haml closed his eyes, nose, and mouth, somehow miraculously able to breathe through it all.  A sandstorm to a camel was merely a good excuse to take a nap.  The two humans huddled together, and the farthest thing from their minds was sex.  They prayed—each one silently, not knowing each other's words as they pleaded for a safe return to the bin Jabbar home.

Calumnius was beside himself with agony. 
It is going to be nearly impossible to capture these souls—even one of them.
  But it was beginning to look like a package deal.  He heard their prayers, and for the first time he hoped for humans to live rather than die.  They needed to live and give him time to work on them so they could die in sin.  After an hour the storm stopped as suddenly as it had arisen.

Doug and Abigail pushed with all their strength against the weight of the blanket, turning it down to gasp fresh air, and they were now exhausted, hungry, and thirsty.  Doug offered her a drink from his half-full canteen.  He hadn't replenished it at the dig site because it should have only taken an hour until they would have been at the bin Jabbar home having dinner.

“We need to get this camel to move,” said Doug, putting the blanket and saddle back on the animal.  “If he doesn't, we will have to leave him and start walking.  It's our only hope.”

“Will he die out here?” Abigail asked, concerned for the animal.

“You’re worried about the camel?” he said, beginning to feel anger. “The camel whose behavior is likely to cause our death?”

“He saved us in the sandstorm,” she said, hurt that he didn't understand that.  “And he's an animal.  It's not as if it were his fault.  He doesn't want to die either.”

“You're right,” he said sincerely. “I'm taking out my frustration on you—and poor Al Haml.  Actually, if we left him, I think he would just sit here and wait until someone came and brought him home.  He's equipped for the weather.  If he has any sense—though I've never seen any camels that do—he might even be able to find his way home.  Surely he knows the way.  He wouldn't die, Abigail, but we might.”

“So maybe we should just start walking,” Abigail said bravely.  And Doug dropped the reins, motioning for her to take his hand.  They walked southeast away from the sun behind them.

Calumnius could not bear the thought of them dying in the desert and entering heaven.  He could see that all hope of them committing any kind of sin under these circumstances was nonexistent.  Day-old sweat, cracked, parched lips, dehydration, swollen tongues—not exactly sensual temptation.

He could not let it end this way.  Action of a preternatural kind was urgently needed.  Calumnius gathered his strength, concentrating it all into a single small pinpoint of force which he aimed at Al Haml's rear end.  Then he punched the animal as if with a hard pellet into the most sensitive rear part of the animal's exposed flesh.

Al Haml squalled loudly and jumped to his feet.  Doug and Abigail turned from nearly twenty feet ahead and watched as the animal bolted forward toward them, stopping at their feet.

“He doesn't want us to leave him,” said Abigail.

“That's how it appears, all right,” agreed Doug. “These are the most incomprehensible creatures on earth.  They hate us, but he seems to understand that we're leaving him.  I'm going to give it one more try.”

Doug hopped upon Al Haml's back and motioned him forward.  He took a few steps.  Doug grabbed Abigail by the arm, helping her up behind him.  The animal stood still again.

“This will take all night, if he moves at all,” said Doug. “We might be better off walking.  Let him follow us if he wants.”

But Calumnius gathered his strength again, this time hitting the camel's soft tissue even harder than before.  Al Haml leaped forward into a run.  He ran exactly in the direction of the bin Jabbar home as fast as his legs could carry him.  Doug gripped his knees tightly to the animal, while Abigail grasped Doug at the waist with all her might.  She couldn't afford to care if it looked offensive to any passing Muslim who might see them.  The risk of taking a tumble was too great.  If Doug had to stop this animal to retrieve her from the floor of the desert, he might not get going again.

So for the first time ever, Calumnius had saved the lives of humans—something he had never done in his entire existence.

In half an hour's time the two arrived safely with their tale to tell the family over dinner, for which they had been late.  Abdul and his oldest son, Jamal, were about ready to go looking for them.  They had seen the cloud in the sky in their direction and were waiting for it to pass.  It saddened them to learn of Al Fahl's demise, and they planned to go with them the next morning so they could find his body and retrieve the saddle and tack, which were quite valuable.  They hoped the sandstorm had not buried him completely. 

A supper consisting of lamb and vegetables with rice, soup, and stewed apricots waited in pots on the stove.  The rest of the family had eaten, and Noora kept some food warm, anticipating their return.  The two were starving, and it made everyone happy to see them alive and eating heartily.

Yes, these two are alive, thanks to me
, thought Calumnius. 
They really belong to me now.  I deserve their souls—I stole them from the hands of God this very day.  They are closer than ever now that they have shared a near-death experience.  There will be opportunity for them to sin together.  I will tempt them every moment.  Even if it doesn't happen until they are back home.  They are going to be mine—both of them!

Abdul bin Jabbar questioned the reason that Al Fahl had died.  He was young and healthy.  Doug described the sudden noise he made and that he just fell over.  Abdul shook his head sadly.

“My son Jamal trained him over many months.  I think he was attached to the stupid beast.  Maybe next time he will not let that happen,” said Abdul.  Then he added, “It's impossible, I know, but it is as if he was poisoned.”

Poisoned?
thought Calumnius. 
I should have known if someone in my presence were doing an evil thing.  Yet I am not the omnipresent Godhead.  I cannot be everywhere at once.  My attention has been concentrated on my target, which is fast becoming two targets.  It could have happened, and if it did, I will discover the truth.