Welsh Road (The Depravity Chronicles) (8 page)

“What?” Jena
asked. She wanted to kick herself. She had heard what he said, every word of
it. She just didn’t know how to respond.

“That’s my
name,” Simon repeated. “Simon.”

“Right,” she
replied, feeling nervous. “Simon.”

“How did you
know his name?” Trevor asked.

“I don’t know,”
Jena said. And that was the honest truth. She didn’t have the slightest idea
how she knew. But the instant she saw Simon, it was like she recognized him.
Jena also felt a strong connection.

Anish quickly
began removing debris and other odds and ends from the sofa and loveseat across
from his desk. Trevor helped, and eventually Simon did, too. Jena just watched,
still confused by the strange impact of having met Simon. She could tell that
he felt it, too.

“Please, let’s
all have a seat,” Anish said. “So you were saying that you blacked out on the
way here?”

“Kind of,” Jena
responded. “I was in my bedroom at home, moving stuff with my mind. I thought I
was fine, but all of a sudden I just passed out. When I woke up I was standing
at your door. Then, to top it off, something blew up.”

“You were moving
stuff with your mind?” Simon asked, dumbfounded.

“That was me,”
Trevor said. “I made something go boom.”

Simon snorted.
“Uh, fair warning, Jena. Things going boom is kind of a thing with him.”

Trevor beamed
with pride.

“I think I have
telekinetic power,” Jena explained.

“Well that was
random,” Trevor said, wondering why she wasn’t more interested in his
predisposition for explosions and destruction.

“There’s no
thinking about it, Jena,” Anish chuckled. “You have a gift.”

“Cool!” Simon
gasped.

“Your gift goes
beyond telekinetic abilities,” Anish explained further.

“What do you
mean?” Jena asked.

“I do not like
to use the term ‘psychic,’…” Anish began, but was cut off by Jena.

“I’m a psychic?”
she asked, her eyes wide in astonishment.

“We can discuss
this further at a later time,” Anish said, raising his hand. “But suffice to
say that you have a gift that you need to refine as quickly as possible.”

“That’s pretty
awesome,” Simon said, admiring Jena in ways he didn’t think possible.

“Well, not
really,” Jena said. She told her side of the story about what had happened last
night with Nicholas and the bird demon.

“We think it’s a
Mantis demon,” Simon said.

“Oh, ‘we’ think
so?” Trevor joked. Simon covertly kicked him, hoping Jena wouldn’t notice.

She did notice.
And thought it was sweet. It didn’t take long to figure out a few things about
these teenage boys. First, Simon was pretty smart. Second, Trevor was pretty
reckless. But somehow they seemed to fit together perfectly. She figured they
were brothers.

Jena returned
her attention to Anish. “A
what
demon?” she asked.

“A Mantis
demon,” Anish said. “Like the one you killed last night,” Anish said.

Jena was in
shock. Glancing at Trevor and Simon, she could tell they already knew that part
of the story.

“You guys seem
awfully calm about finding out that demons are real,” Jena said, feeling a
little out of place.

“We’ve already
fought demons,” Trevor said with pride.

“But we’re still
surprised, even a year later,” Simon added, trying to comfort Jena.

“How do you know
that I killed it?” Jena asked Anish. “I mean, I don’t remember anything. And
you said you found me wandering in the woods. So I’m a little fuzzy about that.
What gives?”

Simon and Trevor
liked her honest and blunt approach. “Because he watched you kill it,” Simon
answered, pointing to Anish.

Jena thought for
a moment. “Yeah, that makes sense. It’s not like you could have told Mullins
and Busty that kind of story.”

“Officer
Mullins? The guy with a patch?” Trevor asked.

“I guess so,
yeah,” Jena answered.

“Dude, he was
attacked and held prisoner by a Wendigo,” Trevor explained.

“A what?” Jena
asked.

“It’s not
important,” Simon interjected. “He thinks he was hallucinating.” Simon paused.
“At least that’s what he was told. He thought it was a vampire.”

“Are you
freaking kidding me?” Jena groaned. “Vampires?”

“No, it was the
Wendigo,” Anish said. “An evil spirit that wreaked havoc on Crimson Falls.”

“Oh, yeah,” Jena
said, recognizing the story. “I remember reading about that. So it
was
a
demon. I thought the cover story was pretty weak. Kind of like the JFK magic
bullet theory.”

“Yeah, well,
they’ll throw you in an asylum if you tell people the truth about what’s out
there,” Simon said with a dry laugh.

Jena identified
with that thought. “Yeah. If you would have told me that demons existed and
looked like a praying mantis/bird and perched on road signs, I would have
signed you into the loony bin myself.”

“On a different
note,” Anish said, “Jena, do your parents know you’re here?”

“No, and I told
them not to bother me,” she said.

“I think we
should let them know where you are,” Anish insisted.

Jena finally agreed,
though she wasn’t thrilled. Anish was about to discover just how persistent her
mother could be. She was like a dog with a bone that refused to ever bury it.

As Anish spoke
with Hank and Isabelle, Trevor relayed the story of the Wendigos.

“Holy
crap
!”
Jena exclaimed, entranced by their abridged version. “Well I hope this Mantis
demon or whatever isn’t like a Wendigo.”

“No, so at least
there’s some good news here,” Simon said.

“Jena,” Anish
interrupted. He gestured to the phone. Briefly, Jena had to speak to her
parents.

“I can’t believe
you would do this to me,” Isabelle said before Jena even uttered a word. Her
mom was ready to blow a gasket or two.

“Mom, I blacked
out again. And this man, Anish, he says he can help me.”

“Well, we’re
coming over there right now,” Isabelle insisted.

“Mom, just give
me a few hours. I’m safe here. We’ll come to the house and we can talk more
about it.”

“Fine, but I
don’t like it one bit,” she huffed. “Let me speak to Anish.”

“Okay, Mom.
Thanks. Love you.” Jena handed the phone back to Anish and sat in the loveseat
across from the boys.

“So you have the
gift of telekinesis?” Simon asked, still amazed by the prospect.

“I think so,”
Jena said. “Well, I mean, I know so.”

“What did you
say you were doing? Moving stuff around?” Trevor asked, equally curious.

Jena explained
testing her abilities, including the Weird and the frequencies of fainting.

“That must be
scary,” Simon said. “Passing out and ending up somewhere else.”

“Tell me about
it,” Jena agreed. “And I killed a freaking demon? I wonder why I can’t remember
that.”

“We’re going to
find out,” Anish said as he hung up the phone. “But at the moment, that is not
our top priority.

“How can that
not
be our top priority?” Jena asked in a huff.

“Because it
won’t help us right now,” Anish said matter-of-factly. “We will deal with your
blackouts and your activities during said blackouts at a later time. Right now,
we need to devise a plan.”

“A plan for
what?” Jena asked.

“Simply put? We
need to bust Nicholas out of the hospital,” Anish declared.

“Bust out?”
Trevor laughed.

Jena also
thought it was an odd phrase for Anish to use, but it was certainly clear what
he meant by it. “Why would we do that?” Jena asked. “He’s in a friggin’
coma
,
Anish. How can that be safe for him?”

“His coma is not
natural,” Anish answered. “More importantly, he is a sitting duck at that
hospital. I am surprised he is not already gone. That he has not already been
taken.”

“Taken?” Jena
asked. “By whom?”

Trevor noted her
grammatical correctness.

“By the Demon
Master,” Anish said.

“Oh,” Jena
murmured, wishing she hadn’t asked the question. A chill crawled up Jena’s
spine.

“Demon Master?”
Trevor repeated. “Whoa.”

Jena stood up
from the sofa, pacing around the litter of paper and books on the floor. “Why
don’t we call the police?” she asked. She looked at Trevor. “You know, like,
your mom?”

“Really?” Trevor
asked. “Think about that for a second.”

“True,” Jena
responded, realizing they couldn’t ask the cops to kidnap Nicholas. “Shouldn’t
we take him to his parents? How are they going to react?”

“He will still be
in great danger,” Anish said. “His parents cannot protect him.”

“There’s
something you’re not telling us,” Simon said. “We need to know everything if
we’re going to do this.”

“If I am not
mistaken, there are bodies being discovered as we speak. Tonight is when the
Hunter’s Moon is at its strongest. I believe the Demon Master is preparing for
something quite significant. And whatever it is he has planned, the central
components of the ritual will occur tonight.”

“And you think
he needs Nicholas for this ritual?” Jena asked, her hands trembling.

“Yes. We must
not waste time,” Anish said. “Get your things together. We’re going to the
hospital.”

1

Simon hadn’t
expected Anish to have such a lead foot. He also wondered if the distinguished
professor understood what the color red meant as they breezed through several
stoplights.

“Relax,” Anish
said. “I’ve traveled to the other side on more than one occasion. I think I can
get us across town.”

“Yeah, but there
aren’t any traffic signals on the other side,” Simon countered.

“The other
side?” Trevor asked. “Did you have to die to go there?”

Anish shook his
head. “Not exactly.”

“Uh, not to
interrupt this terribly fascinating story, but shouldn’t we talk about the
imminent kidnapping attempt we’re about to undertake?” Jena asked, flustered.

“Here, here,” Trevor
agreed.

“I mean, it’s
not like we can just roll his bed down the hall without raising a few eyebrows,”
Simon added.

“Who said
anything about bringing his bed?” Anish asked calmly.

“Well, no one,” Jena
said. “But, like, that’s my point.
No one has said anything!
”

“Indeed,” Anish
said. “So then, let’s discuss our strategy.”

No one said a
word.

“This would be a
good time for you to tell us the strategy,” Trevor said to Anish.

“I will do no
such thing.”

Simon groaned.
“That’s helpful.”

“You can lose
the attitude, son,” Anish said. “Throughout the last year the two of you have
been begging me to take you into the field. I can tell you with some level of
certainty that your moment has arrived.”

“We kind of
figured that,” Trevor retorted.

“Rule number one
in fieldwork,” Anish said, ignoring Trevor’s sarcasm. “Mentors do not hand you
the answers on a silver platter. I expect you to
think
. For yourselves.”

“Ouch,” Trevor
said, glancing at Simon and squinting his eyes.

“Got it,” Simon
said. “Sorry for being rude.”

“Don’t mention
it,” Anish said, nodding in approval. “Now, gentlemen. How should we go about
this?”

“Ahem,” Jena
feigned a cough. “Gentlemen? How about the woman in the car? While you’ve been
arguing, I’ve been plotting.”

Simon thought
Jena describing herself as a woman was pretty damn hot. And plotting? God, that
was even hotter. He smiled nervously at her, but she didn’t seem to notice.

“Forgive me,”
Anish said, respecting Jena’s fervor. “By all means, share with us.”

“Well you’re
right about the bed,” Jena said. “We need to get him into a laundry cart.”

“A
what
?”
Trevor asked, somewhat condescendingly.

“Are you deaf?”
Jena shot back. “A freaking laundry cart. We steal some scrubs, find a cart,
throw Nicholas in, toss some sheets on top of him, and wheel him toward the
rear exit. Anish can meet us there, we dump Nicholas into the back, and we get
the hell outta there.”

Simon just
gawked at Jena.
She’d look insanely sexy in scrubs
, he thought to
himself. Trevor noticed Simon’s jaw on the floor, so he slapped Simon on the
back of the head.

“Earth to
Romeo,” Trevor sneered.

“What?” Jena
hissed, turning around in her seat to glare at Trevor. Their relationship had
not started off well.

“Nothing,
sorry,” Trevor answered, feeling small. Simon grinned as he rubbed his head.

“Good start,”
Anish said. “Now, boys, can you detect any holes in Jena’s plan? Any problem
areas?”

Trevor wasn’t
sure he wanted to disagree with a girl who could move objects by thinking about
it. She didn’t seem to like him much to begin with. So he figured the best plan
of action was to agree with her. “Sounds good,” he said flatly.

“Simon?” Anish
said.

“In theory, I
think it’s pretty sound,” Simon said, thinking furiously.

“And in
practice?” Anish asked, nudging Simon to follow whatever train of thought he
was entertaining.

“There might be
a few glitches,” he said. “I’m sorry,” he said to Jena.

“It’s all good,”
she responded. “What’s your plan?”

“I know in the
movies and on TV shows people always dress up like hospital staff. But I think
that might backfire. I assume that we would have to walk by the nurses’
station, right?”

Jena thought for
a moment. “Yeah, we will.”

Simon nodded.
“They’re going to wonder who we are, why they don’t recognize us, and what
we’re doing with one of their patients.”

“That’s true,”
Jena agreed.

“So what are you
thinking?” Trevor added.

“We need two
things,” Simon instructed. “A wheelchair and a distraction.”

“What kind of
distraction?” Jena asked.

“Well, it
shouldn’t be too hard to find a wheelchair,” Simon said. “We will grab a
wheelchair somewhere on the first floor, since Nicholas is on the third floor.
Anish will go ahead of us to the nurses’ station and keep them occupied. When
he thinks there is a clear path to Nicholas’ room, he can give us a signal and
I will wheel you into the room. Once we’re in there, I will get Nicholas into
the wheelchair while Jena keeps a look out. Then, when she and Anish think it’s
the right time, I will push Nicholas out. If there are any surprises, Jena and
Anish can take care of them.”

“Uh, wait a
second, dude,” Trevor said.

“What?” Simon
asked.

“What about me?”

“You’re the driver,”
Simon said.

“Oh, hell no,”
Trevor argued. “I veto this plan!”

“It is a good
plan,” Anish said simply.

“But this is our
first day in the field,” Trevor complained. “Why do I have to sit in the car?”

“Because that is
where you’re most valuable right now,” Simon explained.

“How do you
figure?” Trevor asked.

Simon counted on
his fingers. “First, Anish can do a better job of distracting other adults.
Second, some of the nurses might recognize Jena, and that’s a good thing. That
means they’re aware of that fact that Jena
knows Nicholas. So it won’t
be weird or suspicious.”

“I guess that
makes sense,” Trevor said softly. “But that doesn’t mean I have to like it.”

“Damn,” Jena
mumbled. “What if Nicholas’ parents are there?”

“Call them and
find out,” Simon said. “Just say you’re checking in. I’m sure they’d like to
hear from you anyway. I assume they know you?”

“Yeah, they’re
nice people,” Jena answered. “I’ll call them now.”

“Call them on
their house phone, if you know the number,” Simon added.

Jena smiled.
“Yeah, I’m quite familiar with his home number.”

Simon wanted to
say that he didn’t really need to hear that, but he kept his mouth shut. He
hadn’t really stopped to think about the fact that Jena and Nicholas had been
on a date when all the drama had ensued. Suddenly he felt a little jealous of
the boy in a coma.

The group fell
silent as they waited for Nicholas’ parents to answer the phone. After what
seemed like ages, Jena began speaking to them.

“Well that means
they’re home,” Simon whispered to Trevor. “I’m sorry, dude.”

Trevor shrugged.
“It’s an awesome plan, brother. It just sucks I can’t do anything. I’m going to
miss all the action. I just wish I could see a little action.”

“You never know
what events may unfold,” Anish pointed out. “Be careful what you wish for, my
friend.”

“We’re good to
go,” Jena said.

I hope this
works
,
Jena thought. When the hospital came into view she took a deep breath.
God
help us.

* * * * * *

2

Father Matthew
McMillan was working on the sermon he would be giving that evening at mass.
Sitting at his desk, he glanced out the large bay window that allowed the sun
to flood into his study.

“Jesus demands
that we love our neighbor,” Matthew wrote onto his yellow legal pad. “It wasn’t
an offhanded suggestion.” Frustrated, he ripped the page from the binder,
crumpled it, and tossed it into the already overflowing wastebasket beside him.

Matthew had been
writing his homilies by hand for nearly twenty years. Although a computer geek
and a loyal soldier for anything Apple, he felt more connected to the pastoral
message when he wrote it manually. This morning, however, he was distracted.
The cemetery gathering the previous day had taken an emotional toll on him. He
knew it had been especially hard on the others. Other than Anish, Matthew was
the only one of the group who had experience with supernatural phenomena prior
to that day. During his time in the priesthood he had witnessed several
exorcisms. He recalled one time in particular when a young, illiterate peasant
woman from a remote African village began speaking in Latin, then Koine Greek
(original language of the New Testament).

And I thought
that
had been
remarkable,
he mused, laughing humorlessly. Nothing could have prepared him
for the struggle against the Wendigos. When laying flowers on the graves of his
friends, that sense of foreboding returned with a vengeance. Matthew tried to
determine if his anxiety was a result of reliving those memories. Or perhaps it
was something more sinister. Maybe the new reality that had been thrust upon
him last year was rearing its ugly head again.

“Lord, if
there’s something you need to tell me, or a mission I must undertake, could you
give me a little more to go on? Feeling anxious isn’t really productive.”

Within a few
seconds his cellphone began ringing. The identity of the caller was Private.

“That was fast,”
Matthew chuckled, crossing himself. The reception in the rectory where he lived
was sketchy at best, so he quickly made his way through the study and into the
dining room. A set of French doors led outside to a three-tiered deck and
patio.

“Father
McMillan,” he answered pleasantly. From his vantage point he could see the
cemetery, which lay on the outskirts of the church’s property.

“Matthew, I’m
glad you answered,” a familiar voice said to him. He immediately recognized
her.

“Anna, hi,” he
said. Matthew and Anna had always been close friends. They were the same age
and had attended the same schools. She had been there for him when his father
had died. He had officiated her wedding to Thomas and later he baptized their
three children. When Thomas had disappeared, Matthew was her most trusted
confidante.

“It was good to
see you yesterday,” Anna said, clearly making small talk before whipping out
the big guns.

“And you as
well,” Matthew agreed. “But considering the fact that I already see you a few
times a week, and will see you tomorrow at mass, something tells me this isn’t
an impromptu phone call.”

“You’d be right
about that, my friend,” Anna said. “We’ve got a situation on our hands. Again.”

“I knew it!”
Matthew exclaimed, feeling slightly vindicated that his anxiety wasn’t random
or a reaction to yesterday’s emotional stressors.

“You did?” Anna
asked, confusion in her voice.

“I’m sorry,”
Matthew said. “I’ve just been having this sense that something was going to
happen. It got worse yesterday.”

“Yeah, yesterday
was tough on all of us,” Anna agreed. “Well, I hate to validate your
premonition, but, consider it validated.”

“What can I do
for you?” Matthew asked. “What’s going on?”

“Are you
familiar with Welsh Road?” Anna asked.

“Sure,” Matthew
answered. “Is that where you are?”

“Taylor’s
Landing, specifically. About four miles from the intersection of Welsh and
Hopewell Roads.”

“Okay, I’m
familiar with it.”

Anna cleared her
throat. “Do you think you could join me? I need your expertise.”

“Of course,”
Matthew said without hesitation. “Anna, what are you doing out there? I mean,
isn’t that out of your jurisdiction?”

“On so many
levels, Matthew,” Anna snorted. She paused for a moment before speaking again.
“I’m not interrupting anything, am I?”

Matthew laughed.
“Just me banging my head against a wall, trying to write this damn sermon.”

“Oh, right,”
Anna said thoughtfully. “Do you think Father Daniel might be able to fill in
for you tonight? I’m not sure how long this might take.”

“I’ll take care
of it,” Matthew said. “See you in a little while.”

“Matthew?” Anna
said.

“Yeah?”

“Thanks.”

He smiled.
“Anytime, Anna. You know that. See you soon.”