THE DOOMSDAY SHROUD: Book #2 of the DOOMSDAY Series E-Book

R. L. Gemmill

• Herausgeber: WS
• Kategorie: Gesellschafts- und Liebesromane
• Serie: Doomsday
• Sprache: Englisch

Seitenzahl: 563

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2015

Beschreibung

DEMONS DON’T DIE!

Trouble continues for Kelly and Travis Bishop when their older brother Jon runs away to New York City, the nation embraces Majik Juice, and the American Security Administration makes house calls at two in the morning.

The good news? An assassin thinks he can save humanity from injustice.

The bad news? Demons have discovered the perfect lure to get Kelly back into Pandora’s Cave.

READ WITH CAUTION

Leseprobe

THE DOOMSDAY SHROUD

Book #2 of the DOOMSDAY Series

R L Gemmill

Cottingham McMasters Publishing House LLC

Cottingham McMasters Publishing House LLC

Copyright © 2015 R. L. Gemmill.

THE DOOMSDAY SHROUD

All rights reserved.

ISBN-13: 978-0692527627

ISBN-10: 0692527621

This book is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents, and dialogue are drawn from the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is coincidental. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means without written permission of the author.

Printed in the USA by Cottingham McMasters Publishing House LLC.

“For you, Dad. Missing you, dude.”

Books by R L Gemmill

The DOOMSDAY Series

Click on the titles to learn more.

DOOMSDAY 

THE DOOMSDAY SHROUD

DEVIL’S BITE

THE STREET WIZARD

THE BONE ROOM

DOCTOR NIGHTMARE

For up-to-date and behind-the-scenes information on all his books, visit rlgemmillfiction.com

Contents

1. Demons Don’t Die

2. The Tortured Souls

3. Homeless in NYC

4. Drink Majik Juice

5. Dr. Carl Merritt

6. Saving Humanity from Injustice

7. Give Us More Magic!

8. The Cave Video

9. Breaking Rocks

10. Target Practice

11. Tracking Matilda

12. A Visit from the ASA

13. The Seven Deadly Signs

14. Kloke & Dagher

15. Facing Demon Chris

16. The Street Wizard Falls

17. Terrorists

18. The Vortex

19. Rebellion

20. Lady Bigfoot and the Mystery Man

21. Back to Pandora’s Cave

22. Granny’s Only Fear

23. Head Butts

24. The Beheading Rock

25. Klawfinger

26. Demon Swarm

27. The Boss’ Pet

28. Ned Taylor’s Last Stand

29. The Cold Night Air

30. The Cave is Closed Forever

31. Interrogation Room

32. Gluckbelly

33. Rewriting History

34. Funeral for a Brother

35. GreenSlade’s Secret

Afterword

A Sample from Book #3 of the DOOMSDAY Series:

APPENDIX

Author’s Note

About the Author

Chapter1

Demons Don’t Die

KELLY

When the demon alarm went off in the house at three in the morning (on a school night, no less), it felt like spikes pounding into Kelly’s eardrums. She hated that thing! But there wasn’t time to worry about the noise. She had to be quick, or she’d be demon fast food before dawn. There was only one reason for the demon alarm to go off. Demons! They were after her again. She put on shoes, grabbed a metal baseball bat, and got ready to rumble.

In the hallway, she met her younger brother Travis, who was loading up a slingshot with an egg-sized steel marble. His white-blond hair stuck up worse than usual, and he was barefoot, but he was ready for battle. Kelly felt scared, but he looked like he wanted a good fight. She doubted he realized what kind of danger they could be in.

I gotchur back, said Travis inside her head. Go to the panic room.

Not yet, she thought back to him. I want to see the demon.

You sure?

Kelly nodded. Their telepathic connection was loud and clear despite the blaring alarm.

All at once Granny Price flew out of her bedroom, still dressed in work clothes. She had on blue jeans, a white blouse, and her black leather jacket with the logo and name of her motorcycle club printed on the back: Satan’s Sidekicks.

Granny shouted over the irritating alarm. “Where’s Angie?” She hefted a ten-pound sledgehammer, though, in Kelly’s opinion, she didn’t need a weapon. That woman was strong. She was fearless, too. She would risk her life to protect Kelly and Travis. Heck, she already had.

A moment later Angie burst from her room carrying an iPad and a container of mace the size of a large bug spray can.

“One demon!” she shouted. “Behind the Christmas tree! This one’s got two heads.” She held up the iPad, which contained an app that ran the security system. On the screen, Kelly saw a digital thermal image of a two-headed something waiting for them in the den downstairs.

Granny squared her broad shoulders. “Crikey, how’d it get in?”

“We’ll figure that out later.”

“Should we wait for the police?” Kelly only asked because some demons could be tough to fight. Plus, they had hooked the alarm system into the local police department so that a squad car would be at the house any moment.

Angie shook her head and pointed to the stairs. “It took them twenty minutes to get here last time. I’ll take the lead.”

Granny raised her hammer. “I got rear.” It sounded more like I got reah. Kelly loved her Australian accent.

It was the third time in a month that demons had tried to grab Kelly in the night. The first time had been right after Thanksgiving when her family saved her, but not before the demons made a wreck of their house. It took two weeks to get the place fixed the way Angie wanted. The same night they moved back in another demon came after her. It was like they’d been watching, waiting for their next chance to get her. By that time the family had been ready.

Motion detectors had caught the creature’s image, and security lights lit up the outside like a football field. The demon had run off. Video surveillance cameras got some great shots of it, so they knew it wasn’t a deer or some other large animal that had set off the alarm. That demon had bright yellow skin, four arms, and his name was Grund. Kelly had met him before. Unlike Grund, the two-headed demon downstairs had somehow gotten past the security system and inside the house.

So why were demons after her? It could have been because she knew about their secret plan to take over the surface of the earth in the next five years. Or maybe it was her telepathy, though Kelly couldn’t read a demon’s mind at all, so technically she wasn’t a threat to them. But demons had human friends, and one of them had a serious problem with her being telepathic.

Until a few weeks ago Kelly figured she was the only telepath in the world, and she’d gotten a little cocky. Then she ran into a man named Mogen Deel, who had the same ability, only he was way stronger and dangerous, too. He’d nearly killed her with his mind! It’s like Granny once said, it doesn’t matter how good you are at something, there’s always going to be someone else who’s better. With demons, Mr. Deel called the shots, and they usually did what he said. For some reason, he wanted Kelly on the demon menu.

I wish Jon and Chris were here, she thought to Travis. We could use the manpower.

Travis nodded. Jon Bishop, their sixteen-year-old brother, was an expert with swords and martial arts. But Jon couldn’t help now; he’d gone off to New York City to become the greatest magician in the world, though, honestly, she almost felt safer now that he wasn’t around since he might have gotten possessed by a demon.

Chris McCormick was their foster dad who had invented a fruit drink a few weeks ago that made the family rich. Right after that, he’d gone crazy, and they locked him away in a psycho ward. Kelly figured a demon had probably possessed him, too.

Kelly and Travis followed Angie down the stairway. The foyer was shadowy, but the den was so black Kelly couldn’t even see the sofa in front of them. Angie slowly reached into the room for the light switch. They tensed, ready for action. She flipped the switch.

Nothing happened. Demons had cut off the power again. Now they had to enter a pitch-black room to fight a two-headed monster that could see in the dark. And the monster wanted to eat Kelly. Nice.

Angie touched the screen on the monitor, and the annoying alarm stopped. OMG! The silence surprised Kelly so much she stumbled into Travis.

“Computer, backup lights!” shouted Angie, probably because her ears were still ringing from the alarm. Her voice triggered the security computer system to use a different power source, and just like that the auxiliary lights came on.

Kelly saw the husky demon crouched in the corner of the den behind the Christmas tree. Sure enough, it had two ugly heads, both covered with scab-like discolored skin with four green eyes on the front of each head. Most of the demons she’d seen before had brightly colored skin, scales, feathers, or fur, but this one was drab olive green with thin orange tiger stripes all down its body. Its eight eyes bulged in surprise when it realized they could see it. It quickly gathered its wits.

“You-ah!” It pointed right at Kelly with a meaty arm. “Da Kelly Bishop-ah. Yer mine-ah!”

One thing about demons was they all had a different way of speaking. Some pronounced words perfectly, while others used accents from all over the world. A few talked weird, like this one. All the ones Kelly had heard so far spoke English.

The demon blinked its eight glow-in-the-dark eyes, then swatted the Christmas tree out of the way with webbed hands. Glass shattered as lights and decorations flew everywhere. The creature lumbered straight at Kelly, crushing presents on the floor in its haste.

Since Kelly was the one-and-only person in the house that demons ever came for, her job was to get to the panic room that Angie had had built in the basement. The rest of the family would do the fighting. It sounded wimpy, but Kelly wasn’t one of those super girls who beat up all the bad guys. She gripped the bat firmly and started toward the kitchen.

The demon charged. Angie stepped in its way. She sprayed a long blast of mace straight into the eyes on its left head. The demon yelped and covered the burning eyes with one hand, but it could still see just fine with the four eyes on its right head. It stiff-armed Angie. She flipped over the recliner and fell out of sight.

A second later, her head popped over the chair. “Mom!”

“Got it, Angie!” Granny took the sledgehammer and popped the demon under its right chin. The demon straightened up with the blow. It back-pedaled a few steps. Granny popped it again. And again. Each time the hammer struck, the demon stumbled in reverse. But this beast was tough and strong, too. It yanked the sledgehammer out of Granny’s hands and let it fly across the room. Kelly heard it crash into something and wondered what else in their house had gotten destroyed.

While Granny wrestled with the creature, she yelled. “Kelly, go!” A moment later, the monster tossed her out of the way and came after Kelly again.

Kelly sprinted through the kitchen to the basement steps. Travis and the demon were on her heels. In the distance, she heard police sirens making record time, but again probably too late. Travis turned and fired off the steel marble. Thwuck! The demon roared in pain and crashed into the kitchen table. It thrashed and floundered, then sent the table and all the chairs clattering across the floor. Travis ducked out of its way. The demon kept coming.

“Run, Kelly!” She heard Travis fire off another steel marble. Thwuck! The demon roared.

As she flew down the stairs, she glanced over her shoulder. The demon was only a few steps behind. Two of its nasty green eyes stayed focused on her. Four more had swelled shut from the Mace, and the last two had big steel marbles stuck in them. Could she beat it to the panic room? She leaped off the steps and landed in a full sprint.

Just as she got to the door of the concrete and steel reinforced room, a gnarled, slimy hand caught her arm and jerked her into the center of the basement.

“Gotcha now-ah! Come wid me-ah! I take you to-ah the Demon Nation!”

Demon Nation. Kelly hated those words. She broke free and answered with the bat. She struck the demon in the shoulder. Thump! She hit it again on top of its left head—her left, that is. Crack! The last shot she took was on one of its twelve-toed feet. Whack! The demon danced a brief jig of pain.

But demons recovered quickly. It knocked the bat out of her hands, which bounced across the concrete floor. The monster slapped a viselike grip on her wrist and pulled her toward the back door. She fought it all the way. She dragged her feet and grabbed for the stairs, but she couldn’t stop it. That sucker was too strong. Just as the demon grabbed the doorknob to go outside, she heard a booming voice.

“Kelly! Hit the deck!” She went limp as a rag and dropped to the floor.

The demon growled. “Get up-ah!”

Gunfire erupted. POW! POW! POW! POW!

Gooey black blood sprayed over Kelly. The demon released her arm and fell like a lump to the floor.

KELLY

Kelly was so shaken she could hardly move. She looked, expecting to see a police officer standing there, but it was Granny holding a handgun. She slid the gun into a shoulder holster under her jacket and helped her granddaughter up.

“Are you okay, sweetie?” They hugged each other, breathing hard.

Kelly pressed her face into Granny’s jacket and took in the ruggedly sweet odor of old leather. She loved that smell. Kelly nodded.

Angie and Travis hurried downstairs. Angie had fire in her eyes. “Matilda, I told you when you moved in, absolutely no guns in this house. You’ve had that ever since you got here, haven’t you?”

Granny nodded. “Kind of a good thing, too, don’t you think?”

Angie was furious. “I can’t believe it! You know how I feel about firearms, and you deliberately went against my wishes.” She went to a steel cabinet and produced some heavy chain and a padlock. “Hurry. Tie it up and make it tight. We’ll put it in the panic room until the police leave.”

“Tie it up?” Granny sounded confused. “I shot it four times point-blank with a .357 Magnum, straight through the heart.”

“We don’t even know if it has a heart.”

“Good point. What do ya plan to do with the body?”

Angie shook her head. “Maybe we should call the press, let them take pictures.”

“I don’t know. We might end up in one of those tabloids lookin’ like freaks. Do you think Mark would want it? You know, to dissect or something in the name of science?”

Kelly changed the subject. “This demon came here by itself. That’s twice it’s happened. The first time they brought a small army, and now they’re working alone. Why?”

“Maybe our security system scares the others away,” suggested Granny.

Somebody pounded on the front door upstairs. Granny looked up. “Police. Angie, you’d better chat with them. The kids and I will move our two-headed friend to a more out-of-the-way place.”

“It took them twelve minutes and twenty-two seconds this time,” said Travis, checking his watch. “Eight minutes faster than before.”

“But they’re still too late.” Kelly wasn’t cutting anyone any slack about this, especially the police.

“The only way they could show up in time to help would be to move in with us.” Angie shook her head and went upstairs. The kids helped Granny move the dead demon into the panic room.

“Is this why we have a panic room?” asked Travis, tugging on one of the creature’s scaly feet. “To put dead demons in? I thought it was a hidin’ place for Kelly.”

Granny laughed. “I guess a panic room’s a lot like a garage. You have every intention of using it for one thing, but soon you find yourself using it for completely different purposes.”

Her logic made Kelly smile.

“We did better this time,” she continued. “The alarm gave us plenty of warning, though it’s way too loud if you ask me.”

“I agree,” said Kelly.

“Me, too,” said Travis. “My ears are still ringin’!”

“But it did the job.” Granny looked Kelly’s way. “We stopped another demon from getting you. We’ve got problems, though, like how to fight the nasty things. But we’re a lot safer now than we were a couple of weeks ago.”

She’s right, thought Kelly to herself. The first demon attack had taken them completely by surprise. After that, Angie went all-out to have the house redone, and she’d spared no expense to have the best security systems installed on the property. They had plenty of money now, because of Majik Juice sales. Chris’ amazing fruit juice was the hottest selling bottled drink on the market. Angie used the money to install thirty-two security cameras inside and outside the house. Most stayed hidden, but some were in plain view to scare away bad guys and demons, too, if they understood the purpose of a camera. And they had all kinds of detectors that turned on security lights and set off the alarms. Motion detectors, audio pickup systems, thermal systems, CO2 detectors that identified a person’s breath, and even pressure receptors around the yard in case another giant lobster demon was outside looking into a second-story window.

Also, all the windows were bulletproof, and the doors were solid steel with bolt locks. The only way to open the doors from the outside was with an electronic touchpad that had a secret personal identity number, or PIN, and they were the only ones who knew it. The entire house was hard-wired to the main power supply with solar and battery backup, just in case.

As if that wasn’t enough, the outside of the house was now brick. Angie figured it wouldn’t be too hard for demons to break through vinyl siding, so she’d had the contractors remove the vinyl and replace it with red brick. It impressed Kelly that the contractors had done so much work in such a short time, but Angie found out if you pay people enough money, they’ll work around the clock to get a job done. And they did, too. There had been at least a dozen companies working throughout the night, every night.

Granny closed the panic room door, and they started upstairs. Then they heard a desperate, muffled voice.

“Lemme go-ah! Ya can’t hold me here-ah. I won’t hurt nobody, I swear-ah!”

The demon had come back to life.

KELLY

They gawked at each other at the top of the stairs. The demon had only been dead for twenty minutes, and now it was back again. What kind of death was that?

Angie returned to the kitchen. “I complimented the officers on getting here so fast, but I told them it was a false alarm. Maybe next time we should show them a demon’s body. I don’t want them to think we’re crying wolf.” Angie stopped in her tracks as soon as she saw her family staring at her. “What?”

“Remember that demon we killed?” said Travis. “Well, it just said somethin’.”

They rushed back to the basement and opened the panic room door. Sure enough, though the demon remained wrapped in chains, it certainly wasn’t dead anymore. Both heads looked up pleadingly, fear in its two functional eyes. The bullet holes in its chest had disappeared.

“I’ve got to get a bigger gun,” murmured Granny.

Angie flashed her a look, then spoke to the demon. “Why did you come here?”

The demon stifled an obvious chuckle. “To get the Kelly Bishop-ah, of course-ah. The Boss put a bounty-ah on her head and whoever brings her back-ah gets all the soup-ah he wants forever-ah!”

“Why did you come alone?” asked Kelly, being careful to stand behind Granny.

“Cuz the bounty-ah only counts as one-ah. If I had help-ah, I’d have to share my soup-ah. Slopgreez don’t want to share-ah. Slopgreez wants all the soup for himself-ah. I got two mouths to feed-ah.”

“You name is Slopgreez?” asked Angie.

The demon nodded. “But I don’t want her no more-ah. Let me go-ah; I’ll never come back-ah. I promise-ah.”

“Like we can believe anything a demon says.” Angie crossed her arms. “If you want to see your cave again, you’ll have to tell us what we want to know first.”

Its two functional milky green eyes narrowed. “Like what-ah?”

“First, why should we believe anything you say?”

“Demons can’t lie-ah. We ain’t like humans-ah, it ain’t part of our nature to lie-ah.”

Kelly could read people’s minds easily enough, but, so far, she hadn’t been able to pick up on any thoughts from a demon. Too bad. She didn’t trust this one.

“Why does the Boss want the Kelly Bishop?”

“Don’t know that-ah. Only know he wants her-ah bad.”

“The Boss is doing what he’s told,” said Kelly, boldly. “The man, Mr. Deel, is the one who really wants me. And he tells the Boss what to do.”

Slopgreez became belligerent. “No-ah! Nobody tells the Boss nothing-ah! He’ll put you in his soup-ah for sayin’ that!”

“Not if he keeps sending in slackers like you to get her,” said Granny with a chuckle. The demon scowled darkly.

Travis had his questions too. “So how come you were dead and came back to life? Were you fakin’ it?”

“Slopgreez don’t know what fakin’ it-ah means. Demons die and come back-ah. You can’t kill us forever-ah. We’re immortal-ah.”

“Immortal?” spat Granny. “Bet I could find a way to keep you dead.”

Slopgreez glared at her. “Many have tried-ah. No such thing-ah. There, I told you what you wanted-ah. Can I go now-ah? I swear I won’t come back-ah.”

Angie shrugged. “I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to let it go. I mean if demons really can’t lie and all. It cooperated with us.”

“I don’t know, Angie. I don’t trust it.” Granny subconsciously touched the holster under her jacket. “Maybe we should try to kill it again, you know? Chop it into lots of little pieces and set them in the sun.”

The demon’s dark eyes flashed with fear. “Slopgreez been good to you-ah! Let me go-ah!”

Kelly scanned Angie’s thoughts and realized she had already decided to release Slopgreez, if he didn’t try anything stupid.

Angie made her offer. “You’ve got to promise you’ll never come back here, and that you won’t try to harm any of us ever again. Especially the Kelly Bishop.”

Slopgreez nodded both heads vigorously. “Oh, I do promises-ah. I-ah will never come back-ah or try to harm the Kelly Bishop-ah again. Never-ah!”

The Kelly Bishop. It was weird for Kelly to hear demons talk about her in the third person like she wasn’t in the room. That must have been the nature of demon-speak.

Slopgreez looked and seemed sincere, but who could tell? Both of its heads spoke at the same time and sounded like they really meant it, but her family had to remember that it was a demon. Kelly knew little about them, but words like honesty and trustworthy probably weren’t in their vocabulary. She was very uneasy about letting this one go. But if you couldn’t kill them, what could you do with them?

Angie unlocked the padlocks, and they unwrapped the chains. Granny caught the ugly creature by one of its throats and lifted it nearly off the floor.

“Come back this way, and I’ll make sure you regret it.”

“I’ll never come back-ah, I swear-ah on the Boss’ left foot!” She released the demon and drew her handgun.

“Travis, open the back door.”

Kelly moved as far from the demon as she could get but retrieved her bat and stood ready. Travis opened the door. A red security light came on over the door, and he punched in the code. The light changed to green. He took out his slingshot, loaded another steel marble and took aim.

The demon’s two good eyes grew large with anticipation. It looked to Angie for approval before it went anywhere. She nodded at the door. The demon took off running, but not before it hissed at Kelly on the way out. Then it started laughing like a crazy person. The family followed it outside.

“What’s so funny, Demon?” called Granny.

“Somethin’ I said-ah,” replied the demon as it trotted across the yard. Security lights came on and lit up the area. “I said demons couldn’t lie-ah. But that was a lie-ah!” The demon broke down laughing so hard it stopped moving. Travis fired. The marble struck it in the back of its right head. Thwack! At the same time, Granny shot it in the leg. It took off running again with a limp.

“Ow! I’ll be back for the Kelly Bishop-ah! You can count on it-ah!”

Granny shot it again, but the creature escaped into darkness.

“Heck!” Travis angrily fired his last metal ball at a thick maple tree beyond the backyard. The ball tore a chunk of bark right off the tree. “We shoulda killed it.” Kelly knew exactly how he felt.

Granny rubbed his hair in agreement. “There’s got to be a way to keep those things dead. Something a bit more permanent anyway, you know?”

Kelly shivered in the December night air. They’d see that demon again; she was sure of it. The question was, when would it come, and how ready would they be?

“Damn those things,” said Angie. “You know, I should have asked it how it got in the house. I’ll call the contractors in the morning and let them know the house isn’t entirely demon proof.”

“You’re gonna say ‘demon proof’?” asked Travis.

“No. But I paid a lot of money to make sure things like this couldn’t happen. By the way, Mom, I finally figured out what you can get me for Christmas.”

“You’re cutting it close,” said Granny. “Only a few shopping days left and all. What is it?”

“I want you to teach me how to shoot a gun. And maybe you can help me buy one later.”

“But you hate guns,” said Kelly.

“Yes, I do, ordinarily. But these demons are tearing up my house and trying to steal my daughter. As far as I’m concerned, this is war. Guns are pretty handy in a war.”

Chapter2

The Tortured Souls

TRAVIS

Two days later Travis hung on for dear life with fingers that were too numb to feel. He was so cold he wasn’t sure he still had any fingers. The rest of him was half-frozen, too, even with his warmest winter coat buttoned up all the way. But the cold didn’t matter so much anymore. With school out for the holidays and Christmas only a few days off, who cared about being cold? What really mattered was the reason he was cold. He’d spent the last hour and a half chewing gum and riding around northern Virginia on the back of Granny’s motorcycle. For Travis, life didn’t get any better than this.

It had taken Granny a while to convince Angie to let him go. But since she’d already bought a cool-looking red-sparkle helmet that he and Kelly could both wear, Angie gave in. Now Travis held on to Granny and watched the world go by as they rolled along Interstate 66 headed toward home.

Travis decided that riding a motorcycle was one of the top three coolest things he’d ever done, along with exploring Pandora’s Cave last fall, and fighting that two-headed demon the other night. The fight had been intense! The best news about this trip was they weren’t going all the way home just yet. Granny had promised to buy him lunch, and it was a good thing, too, because as usual, he was so hungry.

Granny turned into a McDonalds, parked the bike, and they went inside.

“Super cool!” said Travis when they’d gotten their order and found an empty table. “You can really ride that thing!”

“Crikey, Travis, that thing is a Harley-Davidson Heritage Softail Classic with a twin cam 96B counter-balanced engine, and don’t you forget it.”

“A Harley-Davidson what?” Travis lost her.

Granny repeated what she’d said, then rubbed his head and grinned at him. “It’s a fine piece of exquisite highway machinery. You like it, eh?”

“Yeah! Pass the ketchup.”

“Pass the ketchup, please.”

“Please?”

Granny tossed him a couple packets of ketchup and leaned back in her chair. Travis liked Granny a lot. She treated him and Kelly like blood relatives, and that’s what counted. She even treated their older brother, Jon, with respect, though lately he’d either gone crazy or gotten possessed by a demon, nobody was sure which. Besides, how many grandparents could ride a motorcycle and fight demons the way she did?

“How much longer do we havta wait for the video?” asked Travis. “Isn’t Dr. Parrish finished yet?”

“Not sure. I do know he’s disturbed by what’s on it.”

“So what’s on it?”

“You worked the camera. Don’t you know what you recorded?”

“Sorta, but I was worried about Chris’ broken leg. Sometimes I didn’t pay real close attention to what I was recordin’.”

Travis wolfed down his French fries and went after the cheeseburger next. He always ate the fries first, though he didn’t know why. It just tasted better that way. About the time he finished the cheeseburger, he noticed three more motorcycles pull into the parking lot and take a spin all the way around the building. They left the lot, then returned and stopped by Granny’s bike. Travis pointed.

“Those men like your Harley-Davidson.”

Granny smiled and glanced over her shoulder. “Of course they do, li’l mate. They know quality when they see it.” When she turned back, her eyes had narrowed. In fact, Travis felt her entire mood swing from fun and festive to being darkly cautious. He could read people’s emotions like he was reading a comic book, and he knew her relaxed state was over. Now she was alert and combative, the way she’d been when the two-headed demon attacked. She expected trouble.

“Granny, do demons come out in the daytime?”

“You mean like old Slopgreez the other night? Not sure, but based on your experience at Pandora’s Cave, I’d say they’ve got no love of sunlight.” She kept her gaze on the men while she talked. “Course…there're all kinds of demons.”

Granny tore open a dozen salt packages and poured the contents into the center of the table.

“Travis, don’t you have to go to the loo?”

“The what?”

“The restroom.”

“Naw, I went before we came.”

“Travis.” Her voice was stern. “Go to the restroom. Take your time, okay?”

Travis looked up as the three bikers entered the restaurant. One of them turned, revealing the club’s name Tortured Souls on his leather jacket. Instantly ghost fingers touched the back of Travis’ neck. Something bad was about to happen with those guys. He shot a worried glance to Granny before he got up and went to the entrance of the men’s restroom. Rather than go in, he hid behind a corner to watch. Those men looked dangerous. Really dangerous. They sauntered over to Granny’s table and stood over her, just staring.

The biggest guy stood in front of her where Travis had been sitting. He had a long scar on his left cheek that cut through his coal-black beard like a path through dense jungle. Sturdily built, he had broad shoulders and eyes that were set in deep sockets. Travis reached into his pocket for his cell phone to call the police, but it wasn’t there. He remembered he’d left it at home so he wouldn’t lose it on the bike ride. He looked around for a weapon in case Granny needed help, but the only thing handy was a napkin dispenser. Travis could feel the leader’s boiling hatred for Granny all the way across the room.

A scrawny guy took the position on Granny’s left. He also had a beard, but his was scraggly and matched his worn out, filthy looking clothes. His facial expression was unreadable as he licked his red lips, but Travis measured the guy’s feelings and understood. The scrawny guy wanted to kill Granny right there in the restaurant.

The third biker was shorter, with a round belly and a pelt-like brown beard that dropped to his chest. He stood on Granny’s right with large, capable hands covered with scars. Travis moved closer and listened.

“Matilda Price,” said the leader in front of her. “Long time no see.”

Granny acted surprised when she looked up. “Bruce! Carlo! Mac! What a treat!”

“Don’t call me Bruce,” said the scrawny biker named Bruce. “They call me Nitwit. Get it right!”

Granny nodded slowly. “Nitwit. I don’t know why your parents wasted a good name like Bruce on you when Nitwit is so appropriate.”

Nitwit’s jaw opened slightly. “Huh?”

The big biker, Carlo, slammed his palm on the table, just missing the pile of salt. “Mad Dog’s rottin’ in prison cause of you! And let me tell ya, he ain’t no happy camper.”

A burst of many fears shot through Travis. A white lady at the next table collected her two toddlers, their coats, and all their food in a single sudden motion and rushed them out of the restaurant. Four businessmen from across the room calmly took up their food and went outside. They sat at a table in the freezing weather, staying to see what would happen next. Others raced for the exits, got in their cars, and drove off. Only a few stayed inside, choosing to be dangerously close to the action. A black man behind the counter with a manager’s tag on his shirt pointed nervously to the bikers.

“Folks, you need to take it outside.”

Carlo glared at the manager and grinned. Travis saw he was missing both front teeth. “We’ll take it any damn place we please. Stay out of it.”

The manager nodded but took up his cell phone as he ordered the frightened employees into the back.

“Always making friends, Carlo,” said Granny. “So what’s this little meeting about?”

“You know what it’s about,” said the fat guy on her right, the one named Mac. “Mad Dog wants revisitation.”

Granny blinked at the guy, confused. “What?”

“Retribution, Dipwad,” said Carlo. “We’re here to get it for him. After that, you’re gonna tell us where you put the money.”

“Don’t know about any money, but you can tell Mad Dog I’m sorry he’s in prison. Hope it wasn’t anything I said.”

“It was everything you said! You squealed like a pig!”

“He’s not exactly riding with my colors, you know. Neither are you blokes. What happened to Mad Dog’s between him and me. Not your concern, Carlo. Go home.”

Carlo shook his head. “No way.” With a glance at his partners, all three men moved at once. Nitwit took Granny firmly by her left wrist and pinned it to the table. Mac grabbed her right arm the same way. Carlo whipped out a switchblade knife and pointed the blade in her face. He grinned with hateful intent.

“Less see, ya spell Mad Dog, M-a-d D-o-g, right? That’ll look nice on your forehead. Hope I don’t have to erase.” He leaned forward menacingly, bringing the tip of the razor-sharp blade to her skin.

Travis looked around in a panic. The collective fear of everyone still in the room was stifling. They wouldn’t help. But somehow, he had to get somebody to do something!

Granny looked over at Travis and clearly saw his terror. She winked at him and leaned away from the knife. She sunk low into her seat until she was partly under the table. Carlo had to lean over the table to keep the knife in her face. When he’d leaned far enough, Granny blew the salt pile as hard as she could. Salt crystals flew up into Carlo’s face like a dust storm. He covered his eyes with one hand and drew back.

“Ahh!”

An instant later Granny turned her hands outside and over, completely reversing the grip on the other two men. She twisted hard. Travis heard two sickening snaps. Both men dropped to the floor, gripping their forearms.

Granny didn’t stop there. She got up and slammed Nitwit’s face into the table. His body seemed boneless as he collapsed into a rubbery heap. She threw a right cross into Mac’s jaw. His eyes got glassy as he fish-flopped to the floor, nose first. Next, she went after the leader.

Carlo backed off with burning, blinded eyes. He slashed the deadly knife at whatever sound he heard. Granny reached down and yanked the leather jacket off Nitwit. She used it as a shield against the knife. It only took her a moment to catch Carlo’s knife hand. Then it became a test of strength.

Carlo was taller and thicker than Granny. But when he tried to pull away, Granny held on tightly to his knife hand. Carlo couldn’t hide his astonishment. Granny was stronger than he was, and she had him in the worst way. She squeezed with all her strength. He cried out just as her crushing grip snapped a bone in his hand. The knife clattered across the table and landed in a seat. Granny put her hip into Carlo’s thigh and Judo-threw him over the booth. He slammed into the tile floor like a ton of bricks. The force nearly knocked him out.

Granny scooped up the knife and dropped to one knee beside him. She pressed the blade against his throat. Her gaze became narrow and deadly.

“I’ll keep this little pig sticker,” she said, nicking the skin under his jawbone. A rivulet of blood trickled down his throat. “A reminder I let you walk away from this. Next time you don’t walk. Not one of you!”

Granny left Carlo and the other bikers on the floor. She met Travis on the way outside, used the metal-framed door to break the switchblade in two. She dropped both parts of the knife in a trash can.

“You all right, Granny?” Travis’ heart pounded like a drum.

“Fine, li’l mate. But we’d best leave before those blokes get their bearings. They’re packing more than knives.”

“I don’t think it’ll matter. I’m pretty sure you broke their arms.”

“Might have, I guess.”

“Granny, you were awesome! Just like Jon!”

“Doubt that; he uses magic. And I’ve got old age catching me. But I do value your opinion.”

As they mounted the bike and rode off with a roar, Travis heard sirens closing fast. The manager must have called the police.

Granny looked over her shoulder. “Travis, what say we keep this fight to ourselves. I don’t want to upset Angie, you know? Chris, too.”

“Chris is in the crazy house. I don’t think he cares.”

“Don’t let Angie hear you talk like that.”

“But that’s two fights we can’t talk about! And we won both of them!”

“Tell you what. Angie’s already got demons to deal with, so there’s no need for her to worry about more monsters, like the Tortured Souls kind. Catch my drift?”

“I guess.”

“Tell her about Jon’s fight. She won’t mind so much, seeing how he’s off to New York and all. But don’t mention this one just yet. Might be too much for her to deal with.”

Travis decided Granny might be right. But what Granny said made him think about his brother. He really missed Jon. Would he ever see him again?

Chapter3

Homeless in NYC

KATIE SCARLETT

Katie Scarlett saw the boy before anyone else on the street corner noticed him. He wore a white T-shirt and jeans and didn’t seem bothered by the freezing night air or the light drizzle that threatened to change into snow. He had apparently hitchhiked in and was new to town. Did he have money? If he was looking for excitement, Katie Scarlett aimed to give it to him.

Though Katie Scarlett was nearly twenty, she could still pass for fourteen, if she dressed right and did her makeup a certain way. Some sleazier men she did business with preferred her younger; the younger, the better. Tonight, she’d gone for the seventeen look, though she knew dark circles under her eyes had aged her in ways even heavy makeup wouldn’t hide forever. Her days of playing the child for extra money were limited.

Katie Scarlett wore skin-tight red yoga pants and a tattered white fur coat. She had on her favorite high-heeled black leather boots, which made her taller and had a slimming effect on her body. Her flaming red hair, not dyed, flowed down her back and moved slightly in a breeze that made the night colder than it needed to be. A quick scan of the other hookers told her she was the fairest of them all, like that chick in the story with the talking mirror. She watched her new potential customer stop across the street. Katie Scarlett moved quickly.

The closer she got, the better he looked. He was tall and handsome with broad shoulders, somewhat shaggy hair, and chiseled features. She met him under a pulsing streetlamp at the opening of a dark alley. His eyes were beautiful, like a blue spring sky whenever the smog cleared in the city. He was close to her age, maybe younger. This late at night, age certainly didn’t matter, not if he paid up front and didn’t hurt her. She’d already made decent money this evening, enough for another night at the roach hotel, and maybe a little extra for food. With any luck, this guy was searching for a long-term girlfriend. He had the look of a keeper.

The guy noticed her and smiled, then turned and started into the alley. Katie Scarlett panicked. Even cops didn’t go into a dark alley in this neighborhood unless they had backup or a death wish. This alley was especially dangerous. The homeless people who lived in there had formed a sort of gang for protection. They had a reputation for beating people to death first and not asking questions later. About a month ago one of her friends had turned a trick in that same alley, and nobody ever saw her again. Katie Scarlett rushed to the boy and touched him on the arm.

“You don’t wanna go in there, fella,” she said, smiling seductively. Her teeth were even and white because she didn’t smoke like the other girls on the corner. She was proud of her teeth. “Why don’t you spend some quality time with me instead?”

He glanced at her, calm and detached, then studied the blackness of the alley where trash spilled out across the sidewalk. A feral cat screamed and darted in and out of the light. Katie Scarlett jumped. Her heart pounded; it wasn’t the thrill of business. It seemed like the boy was listening to something she couldn’t hear.

“Stay away from the people in there,” she said, taking him by the arm. “They’ll hurt you. Come with me. I won’t hurt you. I’ll treat you right. What’s your name?”

“I am Jon Bishop.”

She almost laughed out loud. Why was it always John? Just once she wished a guy would say his name was Frank or Harry, even if it wasn’t. This Jon Bishop guy spoke with a British accent that nearly melted her. She was a sucker for men with accents. He was special and seemed so damn fearless. Or was he just naïve?

“I’m Katie Scarlett.”

“You are an addict,” he said, looking into her eyes.

Katie Scarlett squirmed uncomfortably and looked away. “So what’re you? A doctor? Everyone on this street’s an addict. Whatta you care?”

“I care because I can give you everything you ever wanted in life. I’m the greatest magician who ever lived.”

“Yeah, well, I’m the greatest hooker who ever gived. You want some, or not?”

Jon looked back at the alley. “Follow me.”

Jon marched into the darkness. Katie Scarlett watched him go. He looked like he could handle himself, but she stayed where she was.

“I ain’t going in there! You’re gonna get killed!”

A police patrol car came up the street, moving slowly her way. The other girls on her corner slipped discreetly out of sight. Katie Scarlett saw the cops and changed her mind. She followed Jon into darkness.

“Okay, buddy. We can go in here if you want. But we ain’t supposed to be here.”

The alley was deep and private with a sharp left turn near the end where the glow of a fire cast long shadows on the walls. Katie Scarlett caught up with Jon when he reached the turn.

“This is good right here. They can’t see us.”

Jon rounded the corner with Katie Scarlett clinging to his arm. She took short, baby steps, trying to slow him down.

Jon looked at her and smiled. “As long as you are with me, you do not need to be afraid.”

She glanced back toward the relative safety of the street and saw the silhouettes of three figures drift up from the darkness. They appeared to be holding bats or clubs and were coming toward them.

“Oh, yes, I do,” she said under her breath.

Jon and Katie Scarlet stopped before a group of homeless people who warmed their hands by a fire that burned inside a large metal drum. Three men, bearded and shabby, took up bats and clubs, ready for a fight. A woman with stringy, wild hair and crazy eyes held a long carving knife. Their clothes were worse than second hand, full of tears and filth that burned Katie Scarlett’s nostrils, even in the cold. Large cardboard boxes lined the wall behind them. Inside the boxes were ragged, dirty blankets set up as pallets.

“Get outta here!” The old woman seemed in charge. She waved the knife threateningly. “This is our home. Do yer business someplace else!”

“I told you,” said Katie Scarlett. “Let’s go.” She tried to make Jon turn around, but he stood firm. “He’s from outta town; he don’t know.”

Jon looked each of the homeless people in the eye. One by one they turned away or looked down. “This is where you live?”

The largest of the men smashed his bat against the metal drum. The hollow sound made her jump as sparks flew into the air. Katie Scarlett flinched and cowered behind Jon. From the alley, she saw the others approaching at a leisurely pace. They were still in the dark, only a few meters away.

The big man pointed the bat at them. He practically growled in a clear British accent. “That’s what the lady just told you! Do what she says!”

“I am looking for followers. I am Jon Bishop, the greatest magician in the world.”

They all laughed at him. Katie Scarlett let go of Jon’s arm and made ready for a fast exit. She would have run right then, but the shadowy figures blocked her way. She swallowed hard. These people would kill them, sure as hell.

“What makes ya so great?” asked the old woman through gaps in her rotting teeth. “I never even heard of ya!”

Jon smiled. “I can do things no other magician can do. My magic is real.”

“You got an accent,” said the smallest man. He had beady eyes and snot on his upper lip. “I ain’t followin’ no foreigner. No offense, Justin!” He nudged the big man, and they both laughed again.

The big man, Justin, got sarcastic. “Where do you want us to follow you, oh great leader?”

“Yeah,” said the third man. “Where you headin’?”

“I am spreading the word,” said Jon calmly. “I am here to tell everyone the world is going to end. We need to prepare.”

“Oh, no!” cried the woman. She seemed sincere. “The world’s gonna end! I’m gonna lose all of this.” She opened her arms as if to show an expanse of great wealth. They all broke into uncontrolled laughter. Even Jon smiled.

“You want me to follow you, boy?” said the third man in a thick Southern drawl. “Then ya gotta feed me. And get me a bottle of wine, ya know? I ain’t had no wine in two days.”

“Yeah, man, I’ll folla anyone who feeds me.” The others nodded in agreement.

About then, the three ragged men from the alley came up behind them. They carried clubs with nails driven through them. Katie Scarlett whimpered.

Jon turned his back to the people by the fire can. He smiled at the armed newcomers, as if glad they’d shown up. Katie Scarlett watched his eyes uncertainly. The only reason she’d come into the alley was to make a little money. This wasn’t what she had in mind at all. But Jon’s face revealed total confidence. She wasn’t used to that. He smiled at her and turned back around.

“Enjoy,” he said.

The bums looked him up and down. “Enjoy what?” They broke out laughing again.

“That boy’s crazy as we are,” said the woman. But Katie Scarlett could see what they didn’t. Her eyes grew wide.

“Oh, my God!” She put her hand over her mouth. The men behind her pointed.

“Look!” said one of them.

The others stopped laughing. The old lady sniffed the air. “I smell…food.”

All of them sniffed. They turned suddenly to face a candle-lit, cloth-covered table with settings for nine. Huge dishes of traditional Thanksgiving food were on the table, including a whole turkey. There were vegetables, stuffing, gravy, snap beans, cranberry sauce, and a pumpkin pie for dessert. Every dish on the table looked like real china, and the glasses were crystal. Beside each glass was a bottle of Majik Juice.

Nobody spoke. They just gawked at the setting and scratched themselves. Finally, the large man said hesitantly, “Is that even real?”

“It is real,” said Jon. “As I said, enjoy.”

The old woman went to the table and stuck her dirty finger into the mashed potatoes. She licked her finger. Her eyes got huge. “It’s good! Real good!”

The small man went to the table and picked up a bottle of cherry flavored Majik Juice. He removed the top and sniffed it.

“This ain’t wine. We want wine.”

“Drink some Majik Juice with your meal,” said Jon. “If you still want wine, then I will get you all the wine you will ever need. Please, eat. The food is getting cold.”

There was a moment of silent decision by the alley dwellers before they burst into action. They each pulled up a box or turned over an empty trash can and sat down. The big man, Justin, drew up two extra boxes and offered them to Jon and Katie Scarlett.

“You look hungry, Miss,” he said gallantly. “Please, join us.”

Katie Scarlett licked her lips, unable to remember the last time she’d eaten. She took her seat. “Thanks, Mister.”

Jon sat on the box beside her. “I am not hungry, thank you,” he said, passing the gravy to the old woman. “But I will sit with you.”

They loaded up their plates and began wolfing down the food. They washed everything down with Majik Juice.

“Man, that’s good juice!” declared the small man. “Where’d you get it?”

“It is in stores in the area,” said Jon. “It is a brand new product.”

“I’ll say it’s new,” added the old woman. “I ain’t never tasted anything this good in my life! It’s better than wine!”

Justin became teary as he finished a plate of food and went back for seconds. “This is the nicest two-weeks-after-Thanksgiving meal I’ve ever had. Lad, I’ll follow you anywhere you go!”

“Yeah,” agreed the old woman. “You are the greatest magician in the world.” The others all nodded, including Katie Scarlett. They patted Jon on the back.

“So when’s the world gonna end?” asked the third man.

“In less than five years,” said Jon. “We have much work to do. We must work hard and fast.”

Katie Scarlett stopped chewing when she heard the answer to the question. Five years? Not much time. Then she wolfed down another slice of turkey soaked in gravy and helped herself to more potatoes.

Chapter4

Drink Majik Juice

KELLY

Christmas Day came, and as far as gift-getting went for Kelly, it was the best Christmas she could ever remember. She got a laptop computer, lots of clothes, some gift cards, and even more clothes. Angie had gone all out for the entire family, even Granny and Dr. Parrish. She had gotten herself some nice stuff, too, and was getting used to the idea of spending the money they had without asking for Chris’ input. He was still locked in the psych ward under Dr. Sanderlyn’s care, and Angie wasn’t allowed to visit him. But she missed him the same way Kelly and Travis missed Jon. The difference was Jon could come home anytime he wanted, but Chris couldn’t leave the hospital until the doctor said he could.

They had set up a new Christmas tree in the far corner of the den, along with new presents, thanks to that stupid demon, Slopgreez, who had destroyed almost everything in the room. They had a new TV, too, a huge 72-inch LED flat screen that hung on the wall over the mantle. Apparently, Slopgreez had thrown Granny’s sledgehammer completely through the old one.

The next day Kelly’s best friend, Melissa, came over to look at their goodies, and she spent a long time on the computer setting things up for Kelly. She had to, since Kelly had never really messed with a computer before, except a little at school and occasionally on Jon’s computer before he sold it. Melissa knew all about their demon problem because she’d been with the family during the first attack. She also knew Kelly was telepathic.

“I can’t believe you’ve never had an email account,” said Melissa. “And Facebook. And Twitter. And TikTok. Don’t worry; today you’ll have everything you need. Wait till you see what some of those people from the cave are up to now. I wish I could go in a cave for one day and come out super smart. Maybe I’d like math class better.”

“I was in there, and it didn’t help me,” said Kelly.

“Are you talking about the rescue team?” asked Angie, sitting at the kitchen table reading the morning paper. She took a red pen and circled an article.

“Yes,” said Melissa. “Jon and Chris, too, but you already know about them. Wait till you see.”

“I know a little already. Yvette Edwards called me this morning to tell me about Anton. She’s pretty upset; he walked out on her, you know.”

“He left her?” The very thought disturbed Kelly almost to the verge of tears. “Why would he do that? They’re such a great couple.”

Angie pointed to the article she’d marked. “I think it has everything to do with Anton’s latest job.”

“He’s not teaching anymore?”

“He hasn’t taught since you guys came out of Pandora’s Cave. No, he’s become an architect, though Yvette said he had no interest in drawing or design until now.”

“Has he been acting as weird as Chris and Jon?” Kelly had to ask. It sounded like another possible demonic possession. Either that or an all-out insanity attack.

Angie nodded. “As soon as he got home from the cave, he demanded that they go to the store and buy drawing supplies. Then he locked himself in the study for two weeks and never came out except to get more supplies. Yvette doesn’t know what he ate, or even if he did eat, but he worked like a madman.”

“That sounds like Chris making Majik Juice,” said Kelly. “I must work hard and fast!”

Angie snickered sadly and went on. “It gets worse. Last week he told her he had to show Corbin Armstrong, the billionaire, some buildings he’d designed. He walked out the door wearing his best suit and carrying an armful of fancy looking cardboard tubes. He left six days ago, and Yvette hadn’t heard a word about him until the article in today’s paper.”

“What’s in the paper?” asked Melissa.

Angie read it aloud. “‘Billionaire developer Corbin Armstrong said today that his company, Armstrong Industries, will build twelve massive structures across the country designed to survive apocalyptic destruction, even earthquakes. Each structure will house no fewer than three hundred thousand people and will dwarf the largest sports stadiums in the world. His architect and chief engineer for the project is Mr. Anton Edwards, a former high school English teacher who took a recent interest in building design. Though Edwards’ credentials for building the superstructures are shaky, Armstrong says the designs have survived the scrutiny of his top engineers. He intends to proceed with the project as soon as possible. When asked if he thought the world was ending, Armstrong indicated that the Reverend Beth Ann Foster would be the best person to ask about apocalyptic matters. Reverend Foster recently began her doomsday ministry in Los Angeles, and her church is the fastest growing church in the country. The architect, Mr. Edwards, could not be reached for comment.’”

Angie set the paper aside. “Yvette said Anton had refused to show her his projects, but one day when she took him to the store for more supplies, she called her brother, who’s an architect. He went by and looked over the plans while they were gone. He said they were as professional as any blueprints he’d ever seen.

“There were three separate designs, all named Lodge #1, and the scale was something like four times the size of the largest football stadium. They were compartmentalized, like a combination of hotel rooms, warehouses, and military bunkers. He even had color paintings of the buildings. Yvette later asked Anton why he was working on them, and he said the world was going to end in five years, and we needed a safe place to stay. Her brother said the whole design was radically efficient, like nothing he’d ever seen before.”

“That’s crazy,” said Kelly. “Don’t you have to go to school to learn architecture?”

Angie nodded. “Oh, yeah. It’s a difficult curriculum, and you’ve got to be top notch. But somehow Anton learned everything he needed just by going into that awful cave. So, what did you find out, Melissa? What are those other people doing now?”

Melissa turned the laptop so everyone could see it better. “Some of the people haven’t done anything newsworthy, but most of them have. Check this out. Beth Ann Foster’s only been out of that cave for a few weeks, and she’s already put together a church in Los Angeles with ten thousand members. Now she’s touring the country, and she’s coming here on New Year’s Eve.”

“Can we go see her, Angie?” asked Kelly.

“Do you want to go to church? Or is it just because it’s Foster?”

“Because it’s Foster,” Kelly and Melissa said together. Kelly went on. “Before she went into the cave, Beth Ann Foster was the shyest person I’d ever seen. She could hardly speak in front of the rescue group. Now she won’t shut up. She’s got a TV show, too.”

“She supposedly heals people,” added Melissa. “I’d like to see that. My mom said I could go if you took us.”

Angie shrugged. “What time? I’d like to spend New Year’s Eve at home with my family, you know.”

Melissa checked. “One o’clock at the University Center. We could take the Metro.”

“Let’s plan on it. What else do you have, Melissa? Did you find anything new on Chris?”

Before Melissa could continue, a man in blue coveralls came up from the basement carrying a metal toolbox. The man stopped in the foyer.