The Demon Trappers: Foretold (6 page)

‘We’re out at the motel.’

‘Make sure the nurse’s station has your phone number.’ He rose. ‘I’m sorry that we can’t do more. Make your peace with her if you can. Time’s running
out.’

Beck nodded and rose, shaking the man’s hand again. After the doctor had left, Beck closed the door behind him, then sank on to a seat, his head in his hands. Riley remembered what it had
been like when the doctor had told her and her father the end was coming. The sense of utter helplessness. She put her hand on Beck’s shoulder and it shook underneath her fingers.

‘I always hoped . . . that we’d . . . find a way to get along.’ He looked up, his eyes brimming, then rubbed away the tears with the back of his hand. ‘But every time I
tried she didn’t want nothin’ to do with me. She says I’m a total loser, not worth her time.’

What kind of mother is she?

Riley laid her head against his, curling her arm round his broad shoulders, and gave him a hug. ‘She’s wrong. You’re not a loser, Beck. You’re a very cool guy.’

He sniffed once and pulled away, rising slowly out of his seat. Another swipe at the tears and then he donned his stone face, the one that wouldn’t let the world see how bad he was
hurting.

‘Come on. It’s time for ya to meet her.’

Sadie Beck didn’t have a roommate, and her bed was near the window. A moment before Beck stepped round the curtain he paused, like he was layering on additional defensive
armour before an engagement with the enemy.

She didn’t look her fifty years of age, but at least a decade older. Her skin was sallow, lined, her collar-length blonde hair the same colour as Beck’s, except it was riddled with
dull grey. She had an oxygen tube in her nose and each breath seemed to require a monumental amount of effort. Bloodshot brown eyes scrutinized her visitors. Her focus wasn’t on Riley, but on
her son.

‘Damn, I must be dead and this is hell,’ she said. ‘Why else would ya be here?’

Riley gaped. Maybe this was some kind of weird joke between them. She shot a glance at Beck and from the pained expression she knew it wasn’t.

‘Sadie,’ he said, his voice low. ‘Don’t start. Not now. Not with what’s happenin’.’

The patient began to cough, a thick spasm that caused her to jerk on the bed. When Beck didn’t move, Riley stepped closer, dug into the box for a handful of tissues and handed them over.
Sadie spat bright blood into the pristine white.

The patient gave her the eye. ‘So who are you? His latest bit of ass?’

What?
‘No,’ Riley replied. ‘I’m a . . . friend.’
Maybe more than that.

A snort. ‘Liar. He don’t have no friends. Isn’t that right, Denver?’

‘Riley and I came down to be with ya and—’

Sadie waved him away with a bony arm. ‘Don’t need ya. Never did.’

‘I know. Right now ya do.’

She shook her head. ‘Don’t worry, I’ll be outta here soon enough. That’s what ya want anyways.’

‘Ya know what I want,’ he said, his voice trembling. ‘Ya’ve known that since I was old enough to talk.’

‘It don’t matter anyways.’ She coughed harder now.

‘Mr Beck?’ a voice called out. The nurse at the door gestured for him to join her and he didn’t seem pleased with the interruption.

Riley wasn’t sure if she should follow him or not. Unable to make a decision, she remained rooted in place. He gave her a worried look from the door.

‘Go on,’ Riley urged, and Beck reluctantly followed the nurse down the hall.

Sadie issued a throaty chuckle. ‘Yer prettier than most of the ones he’s been with.’

‘We’re not dating. We trap demons together.’

‘I know. I read about ya in the paper.’

If you can read, why didn’t you teach your son?

‘Then you know Beck saved some of the other trappers’ lives.’

The woman shrugged. ‘He’s always played the hero. Never got him anywhere.’

It was like suddenly discovering an alien species. Riley frowned, trying to wrap her mind round someone so callous, so self-centred that they couldn’t see anything but themselves. It would
be easy to believe that it was because of the illness, but the malice was so deep Riley felt that wasn’t the case.

‘I would think you would be proud of him,’ she said.

‘Ah, ain’t that pretty. Yer standin’ up for him. Yer as stupid as I was. I believed everythin’ guys told me and it was all lies. Ya’ll learn soon enough.’

‘I’ve already learned that lesson,’ Riley replied. ‘Beck isn’t that kind of guy.’

‘He’s not told ya everythin’. He never will. He don’t trust no one.’ Sadie’s breathing grew laboured. ‘Ask him about the time I dumped him in the
swamp.’ The woman shook her head. ‘Only eight years old and I knew then he was trouble then.’

‘You left him . . .’ Riley’s fingers tightened on the bed frame. ‘How could you do that? He’s your child.’

‘Because ya gotta cut ’em loose.’ She waved Riley off. ‘Now get the hell outta here and let me die in peace.’

Shocked, Riley hurried out of the room.
It’s the pain medication. Has to be.

Riley found Beck at the nurse’s station where he was giving a registered nurse his contact information. He looked wiped, like the few minutes he’d spent in his mother’s
presence had drained him of life force. Riley felt the same way.

With a mumbled apology, she hurried past him and headed towards the front of the building, desperate to breathe fresh air. Maybe then she could sort out her impressions of the dying woman.

Beck caught up with her as she exited the building. ‘Riley? What happened?’

She kept walking. Sadie was just being mean, trying to psych her out.

‘What did she say?’ Beck asked, catching her arm. He sounded panicky.

Riley turned to him, gazing up into the face of the man she thought she loved. What did she really know about him other than he’d grown up down here, been to the war and come back a hero?
That he didn’t like commitment and he owned a rabbit. But what else? He’d hidden so much of his past from her. From everyone. Was there a side to him that she hadn’t seen yet, one
that his mother knew so well?

‘Riley?’ he urged. ‘Talk to me.’

She shook her head, trying to clear it of all the conflicting thoughts. ‘Your mother said she left you in the swamp, tried to get rid of you. Is that true, Beck? Did she do
that?’

He lowered his eyes to the ground.

‘Beck?’

He stepped back, his expression blank. ‘Just one of her crazy stories,’ he said.

He’s lying.
It was just like his mom had said. But why would he deny it?

As Riley waited for him to unlock the truck doors, some part of her was frozen inside. Sadie’s poisonous words had wormed their way into her mind.

What if she’s right and I really don’t know the real Beck?

Beck took the side streets to Sadie’s house, concerned about Riley’s silence since they’d left the hospital. That was Sadie’s trick: she’d get in
your head and you’d find it hard to separate truth from lies. No matter what you said to the old lady, she sucked it up and spat it back at you as verbal acid. She was better at it than some
of Lucifer’s demons.

Why does she try to destroy everythin’ good in my life?

He’d never hurt her. All he’d tried to do was to love her, and she’d had none of it since the moment he’d been born.

As he pulled up to the kerb in front of his childhood home, he felt his tension slowly uncoil. To him it was just a white house with faded black shutters that held few good memories. The
shutters needed to be painted again, but he’d leave that to the new owner. It was small by most standards, dwarfed by the scraggly yard that surrounded it. An old well sat on one side of the
house, topped by warped boards, and on the other side an aged magnolia tree dangled its massive branches on to the roof. There were no flowers or shrubs, nothing that indicated Sadie considered
this her home.

Beck produced a key and opened the front door. The moment Riley stepped inside she began to cough. Now she knew why they weren’t staying here: the lingering reek of cigarette smoke coated
your throat with every breath.

‘Better than it used to be. She quit smokin’ over a year ago,’ he said.

As Riley inched further into the front room he tried to see it through her eyes: a worn couch, a matching chair, an end table. The floors were wood with an occasional throw rug, and an old
television sat on a stand in the corner. There were pictures on the wall, but they weren’t of family.

This was Sadie’s self-imposed exile. If she’d been decent to him, he’d have come to see her more often. Family meant everything to him.

Even when they hate you.

Beck glared at the couch. That damned plaid thing was still there, mocking him. He could remember Sadie sprawled on it during her many drunken stupors and most of the time she wasn’t
alone. He made a mental note to burn the thing the moment she was gone.

He pulled his eyes away from it and scanned the rest of the room. Nothing much had changed though the ashtray was empty, full of candy wrappers now. Maybe if he’d cut off the money for the
smokes sooner she wouldn’t be dying.

When Sadie was younger and owned a car, she’d spent her time at one of the bars in St Mary’s or down in Florida. Sadlersville didn’t have any watering holes, but that
hadn’t kept her from being a full-time alcoholic.

There was a deep frown on Riley’s face now, telling him she didn’t like what she was seeing.
Damn, girl, why didn’t you stay in Atlanta?
He felt naked, like he’d
stripped off all his clothes and she was seeing every one of his flaws.

‘You lived here as a kid?’ Her voice quavered.

‘Yeah. My granddaddy bought the house for Sadie when she got pregnant with me. I think he hoped she’d settle down, get married. Stop drinkin’.’ He shook his head.
‘Just wishful thinkin’.’

Riley paused to peer into the rundown kitchen and then moved into the hallway towards the two bedrooms. She halted at the second one.

‘Was this your room?’

He nodded. At least when he was older and someone finally gave him a bed. When he was a kid, he’d sleep on the bathroom floor, on top of the dirty clothes, because it was the warmest room
in the house. But Riley didn’t need to know that.

‘I had a Chris Hemsworth poster too,’ she said, smiling in recognition. ‘He made a totally hot Norse God.’

Beck mumbled his agreement. He’d left the poster behind when he’d gone up north. He could have taken it with him, but there hadn’t been time to pack much. For some reason Sadie
had never pulled it down.

‘I thought he was kinda cool,’ Beck said. Maybe it was because the guy was strong, good-looking, in control of his life. Everything he’d never be.

Riley returned to the kitchen, took off her jacket and laid it across a chair. When she checked out the sink, she grimaced at what she found.

‘Sorry,’ he said.

‘Not your fault,’ she replied, and turned on the water. ‘What are you going to do with the house once . . .’

‘Sell it, I guess, once I get it cleaned out.’

‘I’ll help you,’ she said, then began moving dirty dishes out of the sink on to the counter.

‘Riley, I . . .’

She turned towards him, her hands dripping. ‘It’s not that bad, Beck. A little messy, but not horrible. It’s just so . . . sad, you know?’

He knew what she meant and it had little to do with dishes. The place had never been full of love like her family’s house. Even after Riley’s mom had died, her dad had made sure
their tiny apartment was a home.

Beck had no idea what that was like. Once he knew Sadie didn’t care about him, he’d made his own life, separate from hers. He never stepped away completely – he couldn’t
do that – but he tried to insulate himself from her as much as possible. She always found ways to hurt him.

He scooped up a pile of mail off the couch, took it to the kitchen table and spread it out. He’d like to think it was because that was the best place for the sorting job, but in truth it
had something to do with being closer to Riley.

Beck laid his jacket over hers and then pulled out a chair and sank into it. As Riley placed the clean dishes on a towel on the counter top, she hummed to herself. The song sounded like one of
Taylor Swift’s tunes. He couldn’t help but smile.

Out of habit he studied each envelope, hoping that one might be
the one.
He’d always dreamed of getting a letter from his father and when he was a kid he ran to the mailbox every
day as soon as the mailman came by. He was never sure that Sadie might not burn any message from that source, so he’d not taken the chance.

That letter never came, at least not while he had lived in Sadlersville.

Beck silently cursed himself. He should have given up that fantasy years ago, but here he was, still scanning the envelopes like he had when he was a kid and could barely reach the mailbox.

Looking up he found that Riley was scrubbing the counters. She was attacking the task with a vengeance, probably her way of burning off her disgust at the woman in the hospital. By the time
he’d finished with the mail he realized Sadie was overdue on a few of the bills, including the one for the phone. In fact, it’d been disconnected. Apparently the money he’d been
sending her hadn’t been going to the right places.