Wild Ride (23 page)

“She was.” Ethan thought about that for a second. “What did she tell you?”

Weaver shook her head. “So the plan is we wait for demons to attack Gus and then shoot them? Works for me. I hate the evil bastards.” She shrugged off her bag and opened it, and pulled out a demon gun with a folding stock. She snapped the stock open and handed it to Ethan, along with two drum magazines.

“Now
this
is a gun,” Ethan said, hefting it with pleasure.

“That's a loaner just for tonight,” Weaver said. “Think of it as a taste before buying. I can't give it to you permanently, because Ursula will miss it sooner or later. Although since it's Ursula, most likely later.”

“Ursula?”

“Our boss.”

“We just have to make it through Halloween,” Ethan said.

The Dragon Coaster came alive with light, and Ethan put his eyes back on Gus. “Is Ray Brannigan a demon?”

She shook her head. “Nope. But he's an asshole. I tried to track his money, and he's played hard and fast on a lot of shady deals, insider information. Screwed a lot of people over.” Her voice changed in the dark, lighter with puzzlement. “The thing is, he doesn't seem to have ties to anybody who could give him inside information. He just . . .
knows
.”

With a rattle, the Dragon began its run.

Weaver shifted in the dark beside him, brushing against his arm, and he took a deep breath. He was feeling really alive for the first time in a very long time.

“Uh-oh,” Weaver said.

Ethan looked out. Something small was crawling along the ground, and then he saw another, and another, lumpy little things coming from behind the closed Whack-A-Mole, creeping across the flagstones, at least a dozen of them, more coming all the time—

“Teddy bears?”
Weaver said.

“Don't laugh,” Ethan said, scanning the park, trying to judge how many there were. Maybe two dozen now. “There are demons in them.”

Weaver stared and he heard her whisper, “Their name is Legion, for they are many.”

“What?” he said.

“I've never seen that many before. Swarming evil.” She took a deep breath. “Let's go kill them.”

Over at the Dragon, Gus came out of the control booth and grabbed the railing over the water, getting ready to lean down and put his ear against the rail—

“They're going to push him over,” Ethan said, and shoved out of the booth to run toward Gus.

The little bastards were moving fast. Ethan saw one crawl up on the platform, and he raised the demon gun and fired, the silencer dampening the sound of the blast. The iron round hit the bear in the butt, and it exploded silently in a mixture of cheap stuffing and some kind of demon goo, splashing purple so dark it was almost nothingness, antimatter, onto the flagstone, where it sizzled like acid. Weaver fired from behind him, and another blew apart. Ethan fired again, shredding another bear and spattering more goo on the walkway while Gus leaned over the rail, oblivious to the silenced conflict behind him, his good ear on the rattles. Ethan hit another bear just as it began to climb the railing, but even as he did, one landed on his shoulder. He looked up and saw four in the tree above him, their eyes dark with purple demon malevolence. He ignored the one on his shoulder, which was trying to work its way up to his head, and fired up into the tree, but a second teddy bear jumped, hitting him in the chest and hanging on, scaling his Kevlar vest, going for his face.

Weaver was still firing at the bears heading for Gus as a third bear hit Ethan in the legs. He shot a second one in the tree, spattering goo as another jumped down, aiming straight for his face, and he fired, blowing it apart in midair in a shower of acid purple that hit his arms and burned through his jacket, but missing the one behind it that landed directly on his head. He dropped the demon gun and clawed at it, grabbing big chunks of teddy bear fur to pull it off as it stuffed its paws into his mouth,
the other two piling on, smothering him with demonic strength, making little chittering sounds as they dragged him down.

Weaver blasted one off him, which was enough to make the other two let go, and then another half dozen of the little bastards converged on him instead of Gus, their shoe-button eyes glowing with purple hate.

“Shoot them off me!” he yelled, and Weaver did, angling her shots perfectly, taking them all out with fast practiced shots as demon goo went everywhere, burning spatter spots into the flagstone.

When she was done, Ethan lay on his back, staring at the night sky, spitting polyester fur out of his mouth and breathing hard. The stuff was stuck to the sweat on his hands, too, and he realized that this was how Delpha had died.

“You okay?” Weaver asked, bending over him.

“Yeah.” Ethan got to his feet and dusted the fur off his hands. He walked over to Gus, who was listening for the rattles now. “Gus?” he said to the old man's left side, tapping him on the shoulder.

Gus waved him away so he could hear, so Ethan figured he was fine and went back to Weaver.

“They came from over there,” she said, pointing to the Whack-A-Mole, and he followed her over and helped her open the front of the stand.

It was full of innocent teddy bears, none of them radiating hate, their shoe-button eyes just shoe buttons.

“Jesus,” Weaver said, staring at them all. “I don't ever want to see a teddy bear again.” She took a deep breath. “I've never seen that many demons at once. And they were fast.”

“Yeah.” Ethan looked at her. “What was that legion stuff you were talking about?”

Weaver tore her eyes from the bears. “What? Oh. ‘My name is Legion.' Mark 5:9. The demon says his name is Legion for he is many in one. These don't seem to work on one mind, though—”

“The
Bible
?”

“Good source for demon research,” Weaver said. “Also my daddy was a preacher.”

“You're a preacher's daughter?” Ethan said.

“Don't believe everything you hear about preachers' daughters,” Weaver
said, her voice getting lighter again. “So.” She looked back at the litter of bright fur and dark purple goo. “We did good work tonight.”

“Yes, we did, especially you, Sureshot.”

She grinned at him, and Ethan felt an overpowering urge to give her something to keep that grin going, anything—he looked into the Whack-A-Mole booth—anything except a teddy bear. But high up above all the bears was a huge stuffed velvet dragon, its wings and chest glittering under the orange light. He vaulted over the counter, reached up, pulled it down, dusted it off, and handed it to her. “You win the grand prize.”

“Gee.” Weaver took it, trying to look cool and failing. “Does this mean we're going steady?”

“Yes,” Ethan said, “so we shouldn't keep secrets. Tell me everything you know about demons. You can leave out the Bible parts.”

“The Bible parts are the best parts.” She held the big dragon out to see it better in the awful orange light. “I'll call him Behemoth. ‘His limbs are as strong as copper, his bones as a load of iron.' Iron limbs. He can protect me from demons.”

“Copper?” Ethan said.

“Well, something's glittering on him. Looks copper in this orange light. I'll switch him out for the teddy bear on the bed at the B and B. Much better.” She put the dragon under one arm, all business again. “I have to report this demon attack. I'll let you keep the D-gun overnight so you can take it apart and look at it, but if you want it permanently, you volunteer blood and information, buddy.” Then she hesitated. “You and Gus okay now?”

“Yep,” Ethan said. “Thank you for saving both our asses.”

“Just doing my job,” Weaver said, and walked back to the Ferris Wheel booth to pick up her bag, her big velvet dragon under her arm.

Ethan watched her go and then went to join Gus. “I think we can call it a night,” he began, and then he saw Gus's face. “What?”

“Only two rattles,” he said. “There's another Untouchable out there.”

“O
kay, what's so important that I had to come back down here?” Glenda said when she met them at the Dragon, and Ethan pointed up to the gaping-mouthed Dragon's head that, for the first time in his life, had two glittering eyes.

“Somebody put the eye in,” he told her. “Gus says it's the key to the orange Strong Man statue.”

“Yeah, it's Selvans' key.” Glenda went around to the back of the massive rust-colored Strong Man and looked in the open panel. “Where's the chalice?”

“Gus has it and the demon isn't in it. He went to get Young Fred. How are we going to do this without a Seer?”

Glenda rubbed her forehead. “Okay, it's Selvans. He's not the sharpest knife in the drawer and he moves slow, but he's very strong. If Young Fred can startle him, you might be able to get to him without a Seer holding him. You'll have to move fast, though. . . .”

She kept talking, but Ethan stopped listening.

Something was moving out from behind the Dragon.

“Mom,” Ethan said, and then relaxed. “Never mind. It's just Carl Whack-A-Mole.”

Glenda jerked around. “Not this late, it isn't.”

Carl lumbered toward them, the massive hammer from the Test Your Strength machine in his hand.

“Oh,
crap
,” Ethan said, and stepped in front of his mother. He tried to think fast, and then realized he had time: Carl was moving at the speed of mud.

“Just capio him when Young Fred startles him and he drops his guard,” Glenda was saying behind him as Carl staggered closer.

“Right.” He was more than willing to take Selvans inside him; he just didn't know how to get him out of Carl, since Young Fred was missing at the moment. “Uh,
boo
,” he said as Carl stumbled closer.

Carl responded by swinging the large hammer with tremendous force, the blunt face of it whistling by, narrowly missing Ethan's head.

“I thought you said he was slow?” Ethan said, pushing Glenda back as he got out of range.

“Well, momentum,” Glenda said as Carl followed the hammer around in a circle.

Ethan drew his pistol.

“You can't shoot Carl!” Glenda said.

Ethan shoved the pistol back in the holster, trying to think as they backed away.

They were next to the Dragon control booth now. Carl swung the hammer again, and Ethan ducked low to let it go by as it smashed into the wall of the booth. Chunks of wood went flying.

“Hey, Carl!” Young Fred yelled from behind Ethan, and Carl swung his head around as if it was too heavy to hold up, looking like a poleaxed bull as Young Fred reached his side.

Young Fred morphed into a huge ten-foot-tall teddy bear—with fangs.

Carl screamed and jerked back, and Young Fred yelled, “Frustro!” and a huge orange demon erupted from Carl, who collapsed to the ground.

The demon moved in slow motion as if to flee, but Ethan shouted, “Capio!” reaching after him, pulling him in. . . .

It was like being filled with orange mud. Heavy orange mud, smothering him, pulling him under, he was going to lose this battle. The world became a Tang-colored slow-motion movie as Ethan felt a heaviness on his heart, heard his mother's voice at a slower, deeper speed, “Ri . . . deeeeeeee . . . meeeeeeeee . . . ohhhhhhhhhh—”

And then Selvans was pulled out of him, into the chalice, and the world went back to normal speed as Gus slapped the chalice lid on and said, “Servo!”

“What the hell
was
that?” Ethan said, grabbing the broken wall of the booth to support himself.

“Selvans,” Glenda said. “Kharos's right-hand man.”

“Kharos's dog,” Gus said, looking at the chalice with loathing.

“Who let him out?” Glenda said as if it had all been business as usual. “It wasn't Mab—she knows about this now.”

“It wasn't just Selvans, either,” Ethan said. “We were attacked tonight by possessed teddy bears. A couple dozen of them.”

“We?” Glenda said.

“Gus and me,” Ethan said, not interested in discussing Weaver with his mother.

Gus ignored him to stick to the problem at hand. “There's only five Untouchables, and they won't possess teddy bears, they got too much pride for that. Even Selvans wouldn't possess a teddy bear.” He stopped as if caught by a thought.

“What?” Ethan said.

“Wait a minute,” Glenda said. “You were attacked by possessed teddy bears?”

Ethan waved her off, trying to listen to Gus.

“Untouchables wouldn't possess teddy bears,” Gus was saying. “But your minion demons, now, they're like animals, they'll take anything. Nasty little critters. Mean as snot. You can always tell when they possess somebody, the human always acts like a mean drunk. That's why they like to take smaller things and run in packs.”

“Minion demons.” Ethan took a deep breath. “There's more than one kind of demon in this park?”

“Minions,” Glenda said, her voice grim. “Just what we needed.”

“They shouldn't be in the park,” Gus said. “The iron fence around the perimeter should keep 'em out. It looks like plain old chain link, but it's got a lotta iron in it. Had it made special in '26. And the river. Running water keeps 'em out. Unless somebody brings 'em over in a boat.” Gus stood up as if he wanted something to do. “We gotta check the fence—”

“Tomorrow,” Ethan said. “We'll check it tomorrow. You go back to the trailer and lock the door and the windows and get some sleep. We'll figure it all out tomorrow.”

Gus nodded and turned to go down the path behind the Dragon to the
trailers. “Oh, hell,” he said, and stooped to pat Carl Whack-A-Mole's cheek.

“That's what killed Delpha, isn't it?” Glenda said quietly. “Minion-possessed teddy bears.”

“I think so,” Ethan said. “There was blue fur caught in the window.”