The Demon Conspiracy (45 page)

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Authors: R. L. Gemmill

Tags: #young adult, #harry potter, #thriller action, #hunger games, #divergent, #demon fantasy, #dystopia science fiction, #book 1 of series, #mystery and horror, #conspiracy thriller paranormal

BOOK: The Demon Conspiracy
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“Hello, Chris,” said Dr. Sanderlyn in his
most professional, but tender voice. “How are you feeling
today?”

Chris kept his back to him while he
responded. “I’m feeling like I need to go outside. I’d like to go
to Crystal Creek Park for a visit.”

“Crystal Creek Park again. Of course, this
has nothing to do with going back into Pandora’s Cave, I
presume.”

Chris jerked around. He drew back his lips
and snarled. “Of course it does! It has everything to do with going
back into the cave! My work is done! The Boss wants me back! Let me
go, you stupid human slug!”

Dr. Sanderlyn drew back instinctively, but
he tried not to show any fear or surprise. The orderly took a step
forward, but the doctor waved him off. Chris was playing his
control game again. Some patients were stronger than others and
could hold out like this for weeks, even months. But science had
ways of re-teaching normal behavior, even in such dangerous and
deteriorated individuals as Chris. Sanderlyn offered his
“carrot.”

“What if I were to let you go back there?
Just for a visit, mind you. Would you like that?”

Chris looked at him wildly. “Of course! Take
me now or I’ll rip off your arms and put them in my soup!”

“Oh, it won’t be now. Not today anyway.
There are papers to fill out and arrangements to make. But it’s not
entirely out of the question, though I’ll need something from you
first. It’s not much, really. If you help me a little, I’ll try to
help you. What do you say?”

Chris eyed him suspiciously, but nodded
slightly. “Listening.”

“I need you to answer some questions, that’s
all. Honestly. A moment ago you called me human, as if you think of
yourself as something other than human. Are you a god?”

Chris flinched. “You’re such a fool! Let me
go!”

“You know I can’t do that unless you give me
what I want.”

“What do you want, you pathetic piece of
walking, talking man-flesh?”

Dr. Sanderlyn was taken aback. He had never
been called that before, not even by Chris. “I want you to tell me
why you just called me human. And I want to know specifically why
you want to return to the cave. What’s there for you? How do you
plan to live? Work with me, Chris, and I’ll arrange a trip to the
park very soon.”

Chris scowled at him. “You lie!” He rolled
over and faced the wall again.

Dr. Sanderlyn was about to try a new tactic
when his cell phone vibrated. He usually ignored it when he was
working with a patient, but this seemed like a good moment to take
a break. He answered.

“Yes?”

“Dr. Sanderlyn, I have Mrs. McCormick on
line two. She’s asking to see her husband again.”

“Tell her he’s not ready to see anyone,
especially her. I’ll try to arrange a visit around New Year’s, if
she can be patient.”

“Sir, this woman was easy to deal with a
week ago. You’d better talk to her this time, she means
business.”

Dr. Sanderlyn considered the situation.
Nurse Agnes was an absolute tyrant on the phone. She could frighten
or manipulate almost anyone. Mrs. McCormick had been amiable and
easily directed. Something must have happened that steeled her up.
He punched a button on his cell phone and cleared his throat.

“Hello, Mrs. McCormick. This is Dr.
Sanderlyn. How can I help you today?”

 

 

 

 

 

 

39

DO YOU BELIEVE IN
MONSTERS?

 

 

KURT

 

Donnivee had been grabbed by monsters. Who
in the hell would believe a buncha wild crap, like that?

Cops sure won’t.

Kurt Lazarus sat on a rock at the edge of
the Potomac River, thinking about it. Until two nights ago, he
hadn’t believed in any of that weird, supernatural junk, not
monsters, not ghosts, not even Santa Claus. His dad had told him,
there was no such thing, and Kurt had always lived by that, even
when he was very young. But dad was wrong. Maybe Santa was a fake,
but monsters were real! It was upsetting as hell! For the first
time in his life, Kurt needed to change the way he did things. He
needed to clean up his act, and he had to do it right away, before
the cops took him to jail.

Kurt shuddered, remembering. It wasn’t like
he’d totally wimped out, he’d tried to stop them. But that big red
one, the one with the claws, had nearly ripped his head off. Sure,
he’d looked for an edge, some weapon, or trick, he could use to get
around Claw Boy, but Kurt had been outclassed. He simply couldn’t
beat them. And when some of the other creatures changed their
shape, right in front of him, and then disappeared into the
drainage pipe, Kurt knew he couldn’t help Donnivee. Instead, he’d
run all the way back to his car, a mile up the road from the
McCormick’s house. He hadn’t run so far without a cigarette break
since gym class.

But cops wouldn’t listen to any of that. He
was the last person to see Donnivee alive, that’s all they cared
about. Without a doubt, they’d think he murdered her, and hid the
body.

Sure as hell, when she
turns up missing, that wimp, Manson, will tell the cops I did
it
.

He shook his head. What
would his dad say, when the whole police force came down on him for
murder? He could hear it now. But dad, it was monsters! His dad
would probably punch him in the jaw. Yeah, he definitely had to
clean up his act. He might be able to stay out of prison for the
murder rap, as long as they couldn’t find any proof, like
Donnivee’s body. But, if any of his other
special activities
went before the
judge, well, he’d be off the streets for a very long
time.

He sniffed his armpits. Whew! He was rank,
and no wonder. These were the same clothes he had during monster
night. Oh, hell! Donnivee’s DNA and fingerprints were all over
these clothes. He needed to get rid of them, quick. And he needed
to clean up his car, too, but not before he made some life-changing
decisions. It was time for Kurt Lazarus to grow up.

Okay, he decided. No more selling drugs to
grade-schoolers. In fact, he’d get out of the drug biz entirely,
just to play it safe. He’d get a job with his dad’s company
tomorrow, earn great money, and, for a change, actually work for
it. Yeah, he could do that. Dad would like it, too.

What else can I change?

No more setting dumpsters on fire. And no
more stealing cars. And no more beating up people, unless he had a
good reason. He might have to stop hurting animals, too, but he’d
wait and see on that.

Most importantly, no more hanging out with
eighth grade girls. They caused all kinds of problems, and they
were so whack! He’d call Maria Sanchez tonight, and see if she’d go
out with him. Kurt hung his head. Maria had no interest in him,
with her jerk boyfriend, who’d become a big-time magician. As soon
as he got a few magic tricks going, Jon Bishop had dumped her, like
trash, and never looked back.

Why the hell doesn’t she
like me? I’m better looking than Bishop, and I’ve got more
money
.

Of course, if the rumors were true, about
Jon’s foster family inventing Majik Juice, that could all change.
But for now, Kurt’s family had way more bucks than old Mr.
McCormick. He was just a schoolteacher. Everybody knew they didn’t
make crap.

Why doesn’t she like me?

He hung his head again. The answer was
simple. Kurt had to admit: he was a cruel jerk. He’d tried to be
all-tough with Maria, thinking that’s the kind of man she wanted.
But, it wasn’t. She wanted a nice guy. Kurt cringed. He hated nice
guys! They were so…so…ugh, nice! Bunch of jerks!

But, if he wanted to have any chance at all
with Maria, he’d have to become one of them. Kurt would have to be
nice. Reality sucked. It truly did.

His jacket pocket started
ringing. “What the hell?” He reached in, and took out the cell
phone he’d found at the McCormick’s place. He’d forgotten all about
it. The Caller ID read,
Mom
. Kurt didn’t know whose mom it
was, but he sure wasn’t going to talk to her. When the ringing
stopped, and a message had been left, he got on the
phone.

“Dumb butt, didn’t even password-protect it.
Anybody could use it. Maybe I can sell it.” But first, he wanted to
know whose phone it was.

He went to the photos app, and quickly found
out. Melissa Godwin. She was the little broad who’d been with
Kelly, the night of the monsters. He skimmed through her pics. Hmm,
not bad. If she hadn’t been so weird, he might have gone out with
her.

“Not anymore, baby,” he said aloud. “I don’t
do eighth-graders, no moe.”

He saw a video, and just for fun, clicked on
it.

Two girls in a basement,
playing with a Ouija board.
So that’s why
all those monsters showed up
.
Dumb as hell, nobody should mess with those
things.

He heard Kelly’s voice. “Kurt Lazarus and
Donnivee are in the house, right now!”

Kurt jumped. How the hell did she know that?
He and Donnivee had been upstairs, Kelly had been in the basement.
She must have had ears like a bat! The video was incriminating as
hell, until he saw a pair of green eyes appear behind Kelly in the
den.


Pretty girl
.”

Kurt shut off the video. A monster! Melissa
had recorded a monster! This was exactly what he needed to show the
police! They’d believe him, if they watched it.

He thought, again. Wait. That video also
proved that Kurt had been there, that he’d broken into the house
with a minor in tow.

Oh, hell. Kurt got up and looked at the
iPhone. It might keep him out of prison for murder, but it proved
what he’d done that night. He shook his head and tossed the phone
far out, into the river.

“I gotta call, Maria,” he muttered to
himself, as he returned to his car and drove home.

 

 

MARIA

 

Maria Sanchez wasn’t in
the mood for religion right now. She wanted to be left alone. As
she sat before the mirror in her bedroom and brushed her long,
shining black hair, she wondered why her parents couldn’t
understand how she felt, even after she’d made it so perfectly
clear to them. They were about to attend Mass as they did every
Sunday, and she was expected to go.
The
Sanchezes go to mass as a family! It’s what God wants!
How many times had she heard her father say that?
It was practically the family motto. He should carve it on a sign
and hang it over the hearth in the den.

She slammed her hairbrush on the vanity and
ground her teeth. Was it so much to ask to be left alone for once
in her life? Didn’t they care how she felt? How could they not
sense the terrible internal anguish that consumed her like
quicksand?

Maria needed to be alone to think, to clear
her mind of all the rubbish that had been trapped in there for
weeks. But thinking caused problems because eventually all thoughts
returned to Jon Bishop. She hated him. It was hard to believe she’d
ever loved him, though didn’t someone once say you can only hate
the ones you truly love? In her case that made good sense. Love and
hate were powerful emotions that could rule a young woman’s life,
take control in ways nobody really understood. Her dad said it was
hormones. Maria saw differently. For Maria it was all about the
heart.

Why did she continue to care? If none of her
feelings for Jon mattered anymore, then why was her pain still so
jagged and relentless? He’d gone off to New York to become the
“greatest magician in the world”. He might pull it off, too, she
realized fearfully. But the magic he was doing, well, it was
inhuman. And the way he’d acted after the cave trip—he’d become a
total stranger to her. All because of that damn cave. She hated
Pandora’s Cave and everything about it. If only she could somehow
destroy it with a mere thought.

But perhaps now there was a different kind
of hope. Kurt Lazarus had called her last night. Normally she would
have hung up on him, or never answered his call if she’d recognized
his number. But he seemed different this time. He apologized to her
right off for the way he’d acted in the past. That was new. Kurt
never apologized for anything, he’d inherited too much of his
father’s foolish pride to do that. Kurt said other things, too.

“Why have you called me?”
she asked, angry to hear his voice. Angry at his gall to think she
would ever listen to what he had to say. Angry at
everything
.

“I want to go out with you, Maria.”

“I know how you treat the girls you go out
with. Drop dead, Kurt.”

“No, I’ve changed, believe me. I’ve seen
things…things you couldn’t imagine.”

“What sort of things?”

“Maria…do you believe in…monsters?”

He’d actually said it,
choked out the words.
Do you believe in
monsters?
Nobody could have expected that
one coming from Kurt Lazarus. She shuddered. Kurt had called to ask
her out, but first he wanted to confess to her about seeing
monsters. She’d thought he was either crazy, high, or both, until
he swore to her he would never commit a crime again. He even
promised to be nice to her and everybody else. “Polite” was the
word he’d used. He must have found that one in a thesaurus, it
wasn’t part of his own vocabulary.

He said other things that made her wonder.
He offered to take her any place she wanted to go for dinner, any
time, and then to any movie or show she wanted to see, it didn’t
matter to him. Even a chick flick! To her amazement she hadn’t
tossed the phone across the room when she’d finally hung up. It had
been the first time since she’d known Kurt that she hadn’t gotten
mad at him. They’d actually said goodbye to each other instead of
go-to-hell, or something much, much worse.

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