LLOYD, PAUL R. (15 page)

The cat screamed and took off out
of the room.

“It’s Fritz.” Micah grabbed at
Fritz as he ran by but missed. “How’d he end up in Oak Brook?”

“Whose cat is he?” Bob asked.

Micah grabbed another slice of
pizza. “Denise Appleby’s.”

Bob backed away from the cat. “Then
Barbara is right. He is familiar, a witch’s familiar.”

“Hag. The cat is a hag’s familiar,
but are you sure?” Barbara asked.

Bob fixed his eyes on Barbara. “Yes.
A familiar is a demon spirit that appears as a cat or other animal and protects
the hag. It also does her bidding.”

“So it could serve as the perfect
spy? And he doesn’t like Barbara for some reason?” Micah bit into his pizza.

“But it could explain why he’s
here.” Bob said.

Micah put an arm around Barbara,
“To bite Barbara? Guess Denise is the jealous type after all.”

Bob punched Micah on the arm. “Or
simply a spy who wasn’t expecting to discover an enemy. He acts like an evil
spirit so he is one.”

“In the form of a cat?” Micah
smiled.

“A cat,” Bob said.

The scream caught Micah’s attention
as he spun his head in the direction of the dining room. A small army of tiny
gargoyle demons flew into the room, led by a leaping Fritz.

Three gargoyles engulfed Bob,
knocking him off his feet. At least a dozen flew at Barbara with their talons
ready to sink into her soft skin. Micah lifted his arms in a defensive posture,
but the demons bounced off him with a metallic clang. Another group of
gargoyles screamed in agony and flew across the room, bounced off the wall and
slid to the floor where they fizzled into a cloud of dust. Micah checked on
Barbara to find her wiping her palms together.

“And stay away from me,” Barbara
said.

Micah leaped to Bob’s rescue. The
demons sprang away from Micah like he was a reverse demon magnate.

Bob sat up, his face covered with
scratches. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome, but I didn’t do
anything. They seemed repelled by me. And they didn’t do so well against
Barbara.”

“I’m not about to allow those
creatures to mess up my hair.” Barbara patted her red do.

“Fritz acted like he was in
charge,” said Bob.

“He could be our lion.” Micah picked
up a slice of pizza.

“We have a better lion,” said Bob.
“The Lion of Judah.”

Muffled by a mouth full of pizza,
Micah managed to say, “Okay, we just moved onto religion again, right?”

“Jesus is the Lion of Judah.” Bob stood
up and paced around the table.

Micah swallowed his food. “He ain’t
here, so we have the witch, I mean hag, the wardrobe and some mangy old cat
with a horde of tiny demons.”

“We have a knight in shining
armor,” said Bob.

“We do?” asked Barbara.

“He means me. You remember I told
you about a dream where the girls put God’s armor on me?”

“Yeah, kinda.” Barbara twisted her
head into a question.

“What could that possibly mean?”
Bob poured more soda into Micah’s glass.

“I have weird dreams.” Micah held
his glass up.

“God may be talking to you,” Bob
said.

Micah sipped his drink. “No, he
ain’t.”

Bob placed a hand on Micah’s arm. “Don’t
mess with the armor of God. It’s in the Bible. Very powerful stuff.”

Micah winked at Barbara. “Barbara
thinks I’m wearing it now.”

“And you may be,” Bob said. “God’s
armor is spiritual. It’s his protection. You must need it for whatever purpose
he has in mind for you, like repelling demons.”

“I’m not called to anything.” Micah
chewed on more pizza.

Barbara put down her pizza crust.
“No sense going around in circles, guys. What do we know?”

Micah took a gulp of soda and
swallowed. “Okay, Ahlman may be a demon. Denise Appleby is a hag, Lionel
Langdon tried to kill me, and there are five murdered teenaged girls in
Naperville.”

“Five?” asked Barbara.

“The day Lionel attacked us, he was
carrying a shovel. He must have had a reason.”

“Such as?” Bob asked.

“Wait, I’ve got it,” Barbara
shouted. The two men stopped chewing and stared at her. “Lionel Langdon. He’s
the lion.”

“But he’s on the wrong team,” Bob
said.

“Still gives us
The Lion, the
Witch and the Wardrobe
,” said Micah. Except our version is
The Lionel,
the Hag and the New Clothes
.”

“It’s a stretch, guys,” said Bob.
“Let’s go back to Lionel’s shovel. Why did he carry it?”

“To bury a dead body in the forest
preserve?” Micah asked.

“Do you think Lionel killed five
girls?” Barbara pushed back from the table.

“We don’t know. We’re guessing
here. But three of the girls had their hearts ripped out. For what reason?
Maybe a ritual sacrifice of some kind,” Bob said.

“And we don’t know about the other
girl or girls. That’s not the kind of information the police are going to release
to the public before a trial,” said Micah.

Barbara placed her feet on one of
the free kitchen chairs. “Who would perform a human sacrifice today?”

“A hag?” Micah asked.

“Denise Appleby?” Bob asked.

Barbara placed her hands behind her
head and leaned back on her chair. “She may be nutsy, and a hundred and fifty
years old, and look like she’s twenty-eight, but that doesn’t make her a killer,
does it?”

“Maybe she believes sacrificing a
young girl, a virgin, will give her the girl’s youth,” said Bob.

“Denise has to be doing something
to stay young,” said Micah.

“Has there ever been a murder in
Naperville where a young girl had her heart ripped out?” Bob asked. “I mean
before this current trouble.”

“You guys disgust me,” said
Barbara.

“Sounds like more research is
needed, Bob.” Micah leaned back in his chair.

“Okay, I like dusty reports in old
libraries,” Bob said.

“Bet you can find it online. I can
have a computer set up here if you like,” Micah said.

“Where does Ahlman fit into the
picture?” Bob asked.

Barbara sat up straight and placed
her feet on the floor. “He’s what you get when you sacrifice human beings in
your garage.”

“How do we prove he is a demon and
not some guy raising a ruckus?” Micah asked. “We already have the little
demons. Maybe they are the result of human sacrifice. Ever think of that.”

“Pray,” Bob said.

“What?” Barbara asked.

“We need to pray.” Bob bowed his
head.

“Yeah, but how do we find out if Ahlman’s
a demon?” Micah asked.

Bob tapped Micah on the arm. “I
said pray.”

“Yeah, okay, you should pray, Bob,
because you believe. But how do we figure out if Ahlman is a demon?” Micah
leaned away from Bob’s finger pointed an inch from his nose.

Bob wiggled his finger. “I’m going
to smack you up the side of the head if I have to tell you one more time. You
pray and listen for God’s answer.”

“Sooooo, you talk and then you
listen to God talking back to you?” Micah asked.

“Yeah.”

Micah stood and began to pace the
room. “Sounds a bit nutsy to me.”

“Micah, God did not abandon
Naperville to Ahlman Brown, Denise Appleby or Satan himself. He sent someone to
help us.”

“Who?”

“If he was sent, then he must be
new in town. Hello.”

Micah pointed to himself. “Me?”

Bob counted off on his stubby
fingers. “You’re the one wearing the armor of God. You’re the one who repels
demons. You’re the one who’s new in town. You’re the one who knows he is here
for a purpose but doesn’t know what it is. You’re the one with all the
financial resources in the world, which were a gift to you, and you don’t know
what to do with.”

“So why don’t I know?” Micah asked.

“Hey, I’m new in town.” Barbara
waved her arm about before pointing to herself. “And I about repelled those
demons to the place they originated.”

“But you’re not wearing armor and
nobody is attacking you. You’re not having dreams and God isn’t talking to
you.” Bob turned away and then turned back. “Is he?”

“Nope, nope unless you count the
gargoyles, nope, and nope. Guess it’s you, Micah.” Barbara patted Micah’s arm.

“It still doesn’t tell me why no
one told me anything I could hear. God whispers are for freaks. What I need is
a real, live voice. Maybe a letter from the Pope. That sort of thing.” Micah
thrust his hands about erratically.

Bob threw his hands up. “Because
you haven’t been listening. What did I tell you a minute ago?”

“What?” Micah asked.

Bob said, “Pray and listen for
God’s word.”

“But I don’t listen to God. I don’t
believe in him. And I am not about to march off to do battle with a demon while
dressed in medieval armor.”

“You better pray,” Bob said.

“If you’re waiting for me to pray, then
God help us,” said Micah.

At midnight, Micah slouched over in
a side chair in the living room with his feet out straight in front of him. Barbara
slept on the couch.

Bob polished off a chunk of cold
pizza with a glass of tap water as a chaser. “Go to bed, Micah. I’ll stay up a
while longer. We need to keep watch through the night.”

“When things go bump and evil lurks
in the shadows?” Micah yawned.

“Exactly.”

“Yeah, better you should lose
sleep. You’re the guy who believes in this crap. I’ll chase Barbara to bed,
too.”

“Be nice to her, Micah.”

Micah looked at Bob like he was
from outer space. He kissed Barbara on her lips.

She opened her eyes with a startled
smile. “Hi.”

Micah kissed her on the lips again.
“Hi. Bedtime.”

Barbara stretched. “Hmmm, a lovely
idea but my bed burned up, remember?”

“I have one upstairs.” Micah kissed
her lips again.

“Your bed?” Barbara asked.

“My bed or a bed of your own in one
of the guest rooms. Your choice.”

“Can’t I sleep here?” Barbara
patted a cushion on the couch.

Micah caressed her left cheek. “Bob
is awake to keep an eye on us. But he might be tempted by your beauty.”

“Shut up and go to bed, you two,”
Bob said.

“Okay,” Barbara said. “It’s late.
I’ll sleep in my own room, if you don’t mind.”

“Why would I mind? I hear in your
words the promise of different sleeping arrangements in the future.” Micah took
Barbara’s hand and helped her stand up.

“No, you hear a sleepy woman about
to go to bed. To sleep. Perchance to dream.” Barbara headed for the stairs.

Micah yawned. “Goodnight, my love. ‘Parting
is such sweet sorrow that I shall say goodnight till it be morrow.’”

Bob placed his hands over his ears.
“Enough. Quoting Shakespeare at midnight is a midsummer’s nightmare.”

Micah pulled Barbara into a hug at
the bottom step, lifting her arms around his neck.

Barbara slid her hands down to
Micah’s chest and pushed back. “I’m not ready for this.”

Barbara
climbed the elegant staircase to the second floor, promenaded down the hallway
and disappeared into a guest bedroom.

***

In the distance Micah saw dark
clouds boiling in the wind. Under the clouds, grey streaks of rain fell. He stood
in the meadow. His silver and gold armor covered him.

“Hurry,” Ginny called.

Micah nodded to Ginny and her friend
Glory. He pointed at Glory’s medieval costume. “What’s with your Euro-centric get
up, Glory?”

“She will serve as your pageboy,” Ginny
said.

“She will carry my lance and sword
and shield?” Micah asked.

“She will give you your sword and
shield when the time comes. When you need her, Glory will appear.”

Micah said. “Don’t forget the sword
and shield, Glory. This will be a battle, won’t it?”

“With evil comes the darkness,” Ginny
said.

Glory smiled.

Micah turned to the sky where a black
shape descended. The form molded itself into Ahlman Brown. He wore a pair of
blue jeans and work boots. He was bare from the waist up with a red tee shirt
tied around his waist.

Micah heard a clang and everything
went black for a few seconds. When he could see, he peered out of a narrow
rectangle in front of his face. He put his hands up and touched the cold metal
of a knight’s helmet and face guard. When Micah dropped his hands, the warm hands
of a young girl pulled metal gloves onto him. Glory smiled at him.

“It is time, Micah,” Ahlman said.

Micah glared at Ahlman. “Time for
what? A medieval battle? You’re insane.”

Ahlman pulled a battleax out of the
air.

“Micah, your sword and shield!” Ginny
called.

Micah looked down for Glory and
didn’t see her. He turned around. She held out a shield and long, broad sword
for him to take. The sword was polished to a mirror finish. Its hilt was
studded with diamonds, emeralds, rubies and pearls. He checked the shield and noticed
a red cross on it. In each corner was an image of a crown. Each crown was
different.

Glory lifted the sword and shield
as though they were light as a feather. “Here, you serve the king, and so you
fight with his arms.”

“This is ridiculous. It’s just a
dream. I’m not fighting anyone.”

Glory frowned. “Micah, this is no
dream. It’s a reality you must believe in if you want to win. Pray, Micah. Pray
with your heart. Pray as though each word were worth its weight in gold. Your
prayers are worth far more than gold or precious jewels.”

“Yeah, right.” Micah did not take
the sword and shield.

The crash of the battleax against
the back of his head thrust Micah into the air. The dented helmet pressed
against his skull. He blacked out on the way to the ground.

Micah opened his eyes and realized
he was rolling downhill. “Stupid tin can. Glory, my sword and shield. This jerk
is serious.”