Epoch (13 page)

Vincent couldn’t remember the last time he’d been so happy. He stared at Nod, hovering above Chanteuse’s hospital bed, with a wide smile spreading over his face. He would have hugged the pixie if Nod hadn’t been so small.

Clara didn’t hesitate. She flung herself into Nod’s arms and held him tight.

“I thought I’d lost you,” she said.

“For a while there,” Nod replied, “I thought I’d lost me, too.”

“Impossible,” Max said. “I saw the demons gaining on you.”

“They nearly got me,” Nod told them. “I had to use every trick in the book to stay ahead. Then I doubled back to Chanteuse’s house and picked up that apron. The second I had it on, they lost me. I tore the pocket out to make it easier to wear, then I went to find you guys. Good thing I got here when I did.

“Now if you’ll excuse me.”

Nod peeled himself out of Clara’s embrace, dropped down to the bed, and grabbed the apron pocket.

“You’re leaving?” Chanteuse asked.

“Gotta keep moving,” Nod said. “Once I took this thing off, I became visible on the demons’ tongues again. They’ll be after me again, so I’ve gotta scram.”

“Let them come,” Vincent said. “We can stop them now. Look.”

Nod followed where Vincent was pointing, and saw Rennik lying in the corner. He had a moment of panic, then he realized the demon was too sick to move.

“How?” he asked, staring in amazement up at Vincent.

“I just figured it out myself,” Vincent said, sitting down on the bed. His elation at the sight of his pixie friend had dissipated, and his pain was once more unbearable. “I’ll tell you all about it after someone gets me some medical attention.”

“Me, too,” said Big Tom as he stood back up. “My head hurts.”

Vincent looked over at his best friend, and smiled. Big Tom had been thrown clear across the room by a troll, but he was still standing. At least, he was standing until he tripped over Grimbowl’s body and joined the elf on the floor.

“Okay, somebody tell me what’s going on,” Barnaby said. He stood with his back to the nearest wall, looking around the room in a state of near panic. “Who do you people keep talking to? What’s all this junk about trolls?”

“You don’t have the right to ask anything,” Max said dangerously.

“Hey, my home was broken into!” Barnaby said. “And my bodyguards just turned traitor. I think I deserve a little slack.”

“At least tell me something,” said Lori from her bed. “I think I’ve been through quite enough today.”

“Later,” said Miss Sloam. “First we need a doctor in here to look after the boys, and we need security to ... ”

“No,” said Boots. He leapt off Lori’s bed, grabbed her out of it, and put her in a hammerlock in one smooth motion. Bruno sprang up and grabbed Vincent, and put him in a similar hold.

“We’ll break their necks,” said Bruno. “Nobody move or try to stop us.”

Bruno backed toward the door, tripped on Big Tom, and fell over. Vincent flew out of his arms and crashed into Max, then moaned as his chest spiked with pain. Bruno stumbled backward and fell into the corner of the room—the same corner where Rennik the demon lay.

There was a loud, wet crunch. Against his better judgment Vincent looked, and saw a huge hole in the bodyguard’s chest. Standing in that hole, looking very satisfied, was Rennik.

“Boy, I sure needed that,” he said. His wings were still withered and his complexion still looked ill, but Rennik looked a lot stronger than he had a minute ago.

Boots gaped, then turned and ran. He made it into the hallway, and then several tiny sticks rammed into his body.

“Have no fear!” Grimbowl said, leaping back up. “The cavalry’s here.”

Boots dropped Lori and collapsed back into the room, then fell to the floor. Lori ran off down the hall as fast as she could, screaming for security.

“Now what?” said Barnaby, who looked ready to cry.

A dozen elves came in through the doorway, all carrying tiny bows. Megon and Optar led them, climbing over the unconscious troll with a smug expression of victory.

“I thought you’d fainted,” Vincent said to Grimbowl.

“Nope! Just another astral projection,” Grimbowl replied. “I called in the whole tribe. And they’ve brought goodies.”

The goodies turned out to be a magical healing potion. Optar administered it to everyone who needed it, including the two pixies. Vincent couldn’t believe how quickly it worked; within seconds his chest was strong again, ribs and all.

The only ones who didn’t get any were Bruno and Boots, for whom it was too late. And, of course, Rennik.

“Just a little bit?” Rennik pleaded, before he popped Bruno’s left leg into his mouth. “Please?” he added with his mouth full.

“You must be joking,” Max said. “You are a creature of evil, and you will be destroyed.”

“Yes, but how do we destroy them?” Megon asked as he looked at the demon. “How did you accomplish this?”

“It’s the kid who figured it out,” Grimbowl said with genuine pride as he indicated Vincent. “Tell ’em what you did, kid.”

Vincent opened his mouth to reply, then stopped.

“No,” he said.

“No?” said Grimbowl.

“No?!?” said Megon.

“I don’t trust you,” Vincent said. “You elves hurt me, and you made me hurt my friend Big Tom. Then you put an obyon up his nose and sent him into terrible danger.”

“Oh, boo hoo,” said Megon. “If you are trying to appeal to my heart, don’t bother. My concern is only for my elves, and I will do whatever it takes to get them safely to the Portal Site.”

“Then listen up,” Vincent said. “I know where the Portal Site is.”

“What?” Megon said, and a collective gasp emerged from the other elves. “Grimbowl, is this true?”

“Better believe it,” Grimbowl replied.

“Tell us, boy!” Megon turned back to Vincent. “Immediately!”

“Uh, uh,” Vincent said. “I’m not telling you anything unless you remove the obyon from Big Tom’s nose. Immediately.”

“We shall do no such thing!” Megon replied. “Who are you to make demands of us? You are lucky we don’t insert obyons into all of you! In fact, I think I will ... ” He stopped suddenly, realizing there was a sword pressed against his throat.

“Oh no you won’t,” Grimbowl replied.

The other elves reacted with shock, none more so than Megon.

“In our entire history,” the elf chief said, “no elf has ever raised arms against another.”

“Times change,” Grimbowl said. “This kid has put it on the line for us. When I first met him, I thought he was just another prat.”

“Hey!” said Vincent.

“But he’s done more than all of us have in a thousand years,” Grimbowl went on. “If we escape this world, it’ll be because of him. So stop being dumb, show him some respect, and do like he says.”

There was a tense, almost silent moment. The only noise came from the corner, where Rennick was still eating troll.

“What you say,” Megon said at last, “is true. He does deserve our respect. Opton, remove the obyon.”

Grimbowl smiled and lowered his sword. Optar scowled, clearly not happy, but he did say the magic words to deactivate the obyon spell. Big Tom sneezed a few times, and an earwig flew out of his nose.

“You used an earwig?” Vincent said. “That’s even worse. Ugh!”

“We have done our part, Vincent,” Megon said. “Now it is your turn. Tell us where the Portal Site is.”

“It’s at Alphega Corp.’s Headquarters, hidden by the building,” Vincent said. “When I did my astral projection thing, I saw all these weird force-fields surrounding the place.”

“Magical wards, most likely,” Optar said.

“It’s also being patrolled by demons,” Vincent told them.

“Then you must tell us how to destroy demons,” Megon said.

“I used this on him,” Vincent replied, holding the hairspray in one hand and pointing at Rennik with the other. “It made him pretty sick.”

“Aerosol sprays ... ” Optar said. “Of course! Human-made pollutants.”

“But we need something stronger,” Megon said. “Something that will kill them.”

“How about bug spray?” Big Tom suggested. “We’ve got boxes of it back at my place.”

“Of course!” Vincent said. “Big Tom, that’s brilliant.”

“Well, let’s get going!” Grimbowl said. “We can test the spray on munchy boy, here.”

Rennik, who had one of Bruno’s arms sticking out of his mouth, stopped and looked at his assembled enemies. He sucked the arm in like spaghetti, smiled weakly, and ran for the window.

He didn’t get far. Max caught him, and held him up by his wings.

“Lead the way, Thomas,” he said.

They filed out of the room, Big Tom taking the lead. He looked happier than Vincent had ever seen him; all this positive attention was doing him good.

“Hey, Big Tom?” Vincent said, catching up to him. “Look, about what happened at school … you know, when I … ”

“It’s okay, Vincent,” Big Tom said. “You had a thing up your nose.”

“I’m still sorry,” Vincent said.

“I know,” Big Tom said, and smiled. “That’s why I let you win.”

“What?” Vincent said. “You did not. I was totally kicking your butt.”

“Because I let you,” Big Tom said. “I could’ve whupped you anytime. But I didn’t, because I’m such a good friend.”

Vincent laughed and put an arm around his friend’s shoulders. “I guess I’m pretty lucky,” he said.

“Darn right,” Big Tom replied.

Chanteuse and her mother followed behind them. Miss Sloam looked very happy, no doubt glad her daughter was alive and well. Chanteuse, on the other hand, looked positively miserable.

Vincent thought he might know why, but before he could ask her the building shook violently.

“Oh no,” Clara said. “It’s started.”

“What has started?” Max asked.

“The end!” Grimbowl replied.

And then the earthquake hit full force.

All across the world, from Antarctica to Arkansas, from Oslow to Ottawa, from Australia to Alabama, from Toledo to Tokyo, from Canada to Granada, from Moscow to Mosambique, everyone felt it. It wasn’t just the Big One. It was the BIG ONE. Every land mass with a major fault line became a yawning chasm. Everywhere with a not-so-major fault line was merely reduced to a heap of rubble.

There was no doubt in anyone’s mind. This was it. The end was here. Panic spread far and wide. Looting, riots, and vandalism ran rampant. War-torn nations launched sneak attacks. Doomsayers dusted off their “The End Is Nigh” sandwichboards and ran out into what remained of their streets.

Violence, chaos, mass hysteria.

And that wasn’t the worst of it. The end had only just begun.

• • •

The hospital was a bombed-out wreck. Vincent and the others lay under the rubble, and Nod, Clara, and Miss Sloam were the only things keeping the rest of the building from crushing them all.

“Why,” Vincent asked, shoving aside a pile of rubble, “didn’t you say there’d be an earthquake?”

“I did,” Nod said through his strain. “Right when we first met, remember?” He still wore the apron pocket; if Vincent didn’t focus on him, his burden of debris appeared to be held up by nothing.

“I could have used a reminder,” Vincent told him.

When the building fell apart, they’d dropped down through the crumbling floor while the ceiling and floors above chased them. They’d sustained many injuries when they’d landed; Vincent had broken both legs, Max had been impaled on a steel support rod and Barnaby had fractured his skull. Only Big Tom and Chanteuse missed the worst of it; the elves had put them to work immediately distributing their healing potion.

Sadly, the potion hadn’t come in time for several elves, including Megon. Falling debris had crushed them; only the quick actions of Miss Sloam and the two pixies had prevented any further deaths.

“What are those things?” Barnaby asked, finally able to see the pixies and elves.

“Our friends,” Vincent replied. “Except him,” he added as Rennik popped out of the rubble beside him. A steel girder and at least two tons of cement had fallen on the sickly demon, but he was still able to chomp.

“Won’t be long now!” Rennik said. “First the earthquake, then the bad weather, and then … ”

“There’s bad weather coming?” Big Tom asked.

“Priorities, people!” Clara cried through clenched teeth. She hovered above Max with a chunk of building pressing down on her, and she was slowly dropping. Nod held aloft a similar load above the remaining elves, but his strength was also fading. Miss Sloam, who shouldered the biggest burden, looked as if she couldn’t go on for one more moment.

Vincent looked around. There were piles of rubble everywhere, blocking every escape route. They were trapped. And as soon as their friends’ strength gave out, they were dead.

“We’re dead!” Barnaby said. “We’re all dead! There’s no way out, we’re going to die ... ”

“Shut up,” Vincent said, and slugged him. Barnaby was so surprised he sat looking at Vincent for almost five seconds before he fell backward onto Grimbowl and Optar.

Vincent allowed himself a moment. That felt good.

“Watch where you hit people!” Grimbowl said from under the stunned bully. Vincent watched as he crawled out, and then he had a thought.

Vincent looked at the hole Rennik had eaten his way up from. Then he looked at Rennik.

“You can get us out of here,” he told the demon. “You can eat your way through this rubble.”

“Hey, yeah, I could,” Rennik said. “But why should I? You tried to kill me, remember?”

“You tried to eat my friend,” Vincent reminded him. “Besides, don’t you want to eat us later?”

“Well ... ”

“Hard to do that if we’re under a ton of rubble,” Vincent said. “If you free us, you’ll have a chance to eat us when the epoch ends.”

“True,” Rennik said, “But I can’t chase you with these wings. And your poison made me too weak to move. I couldn’t save you if I wanted to.

“Unless,” he added, “you gave me some of that healing potion.”

“What?” said Vincent.

“Not going to happen,” said Grimbowl.

“Never!” added Optar.

“Then I guess we’re all stuck here,” Rennik said.

“Optar,” Vincent said, “we are going to die. He can save us. Give him what he wants.”

Optar looked at Vincent, then at Grimbowl. They nodded to each other, then Optar took a flask off his belt.

“Give him this,” Optar said, handing Vincent the tiny flask.

Vincent handed the potion to Rennik, who took it and poured the contents into his mouth.

“Ahhh, that’s the stuff,” he said as he healed before them. His wings became strong and powerful, and his skin turned red once more. “I’m back!”

“Now get us out of here,” Max told him.

“Forget it,” Rennik said, hopping into the air. “Now that you’ve cured me, I’m going to eat you all, starting with her!” He pointed at Miss Sloam.

“No!” Chanteuse said, leaping to protect her mother.

“No!” Vincent cried, realizing he’d been duped.

“Yes!” Rennik said, and he sped toward his target.

“Demon, stop!” Optar shouted.

Rennik ignored him, and he’d almost made it to Miss Sloam’s left arm when he screamed and fell to the ground.

“You will not attack us,” Optar commanded. “And you will clear this debris. Immediately!”

Rennik screamed again, clutching at his body. Then he got up and obeyed the elf.

“Obyon?” Vincent asked the wise elf.

“Got it in one,” Grimbowl said.

“You didn’t think I’d heal that dog,” Optar said, “without first giving him a leash?”

It took Rennik two minutes to clear away all the rubble, including the detritus piled on top of Nod, Clara, and Miss Sloam. Freed from their burdens, the troll and both pixies collapsed with exhaustion. While Chanteuse helped her mother to the floor, Vincent collected up Clara and Nod. Finding Nod wasn’t easy; Vincent had to pat around with his hands before he found the nigh-invisible pixie.

Rennik coughed and spat, clearing out the concrete from his mouth. The taste clearly wasn’t to his liking.

“We’re free!” Big Tom said, smiling widely. Then he looked around and his smile dropped.

“Oh man,” Vincent said.

“Triumvirate, be merciful,” Max added.

The city was devastated. Buildings lay in ruins beneath clouds of dust, cars and trucks lay smashed and mangled, and the streets were cracked and broken beyond all hope of repair. Fires blazed, broken hydrants fountained, and car alarms howled. It was a nightmare brought to life, and death was all it gave in return.

“The Text said there would come times like these,” Max said.

“I know,” Vincent said. “Something about wailing and gnashing teeth, right?”

In fact, more than half of the Text of the Triumvirate dealt with the End Times. It was the most popular subject for sermons, the most successful tool for recruiting new members, and the only topic dealt with in the many books and videos produced by the Triumvirite media.

Vincent remembered well being forced to sit through a screening of Left Out, a cheesy and overly melodramatic drama about the people who were not taken to Heaven by the Triumvirate during the Latter Days. Those poor souls faced famine and wars while the evil Anti-Triumvirate took over the world. Those non-Triumvirites had to fight for their very survival, while Vincent had fought to stay awake.

Now, he doubted he’d have the chance to sleep again. Left Out, and its many poor-production-value imitators, had not prepared him for this.

“We should have missed this,” Grimbowl said. “All of us, everyone, should have avoided this.”

“All because of one evil man,” Max added. “And those who serve him.”

“Yeah, it’s pretty lousy,” Rennik said. “Now, if you’ll excuse me ... ”

“Demon, bring the troll,” Optar said. “You will accompany us to Big Tom’s house, where you will tell us everything.”

“Oh, no,” the demon muttered as he grabbed hold of Miss Sloam and lifted her into the air. “Can this day get any worse?”

“You bet it can,” Grimbowl replied. “After you’ve told us all you know, you’re going to be our guinea pig.”

“What are you saying?” asked Chanteuse.

“He’s going to help us find out,” Grimbowl said, “if Big Tom’s bug spray can kill demons.”