The New Kid (12 page)

He also knew that she missed his father like a caged bird misses the sky. She’d waited three years after Edward “disappeared” before finally being talked into filing for divorce by her sister. Six months after that she’d met Gerald on
TrueLove.com
and he’d courted her vigorously, treating her as though she were an angel, the perfect woman, the only woman for him. He’d said all the right things and at times Will even believed he might permanently lift his mother out of her depression. But after their marriage Gerald revealed his true self, a simple-minded angry man, a drinker who wanted things his way and thought Will was a nuisance. Gerald had miraculously managed to mask his flatulence during the courtship but once he had the cheap ring on April’s finger he relaxed and walked around like he had grenades going off in his Jockeys. He was a fool and he smelled bad and Will could not help but dislike him.

At ten minutes to midnight Will stood holding the crystal key and staring at the door to the secret cabinet. At five minutes to midnight he paced nervously back and forth, snapping his fingers, cracking his knuckles, building up courage. At one minute to midnight Will’s hands began shaking. He counted off the sixty seconds.
At exactly midnight he heard his father’s grandfather clock upstairs chime a dozen times. He counted another sixty seconds, slid the crystal key into the lock, and then opened the small door.

Will used the key to open the box and there it was. The book. He lifted it out and was surprised how light it felt to him.
Of course
, he thought.
I’m bigger and stronger than I was back then, I’m almost a man. I am ready for the book.

He laid it on the workbench, opened the cover, and stared at the first page. He felt a sudden wind and turned in fear, expecting the worst: that the beast had come back to claim the book! But it was only a draft from upstairs. Will calmed himself and began to study the volume. He’d brought his digital camera and laptop computer down to the basement and methodically photographed the pages and then ran program after program utilizing pattern recognition software designed by the world’s top archeologists. Four hours later he was no closer to understanding the strange language than when he’d first started. But no way would he even think of giving up.

He was on spring break from school so his mother and Gerald allowed him to spend his time alone in the basement with what Gerald referred to as his “geek toys.” Will began designing his own pattern recognition software that learned as it ran until finally some semblance of a language emerged. It dawned on Will that the reason the book was in code was so that no one who was less than exceptionally intellectually gifted could ever have a hope of understanding it. It took seventy-two hours but by the end of the week he finally had the entire ancient manuscript translated and as the amazing sense of accomplishment washed over him he proceeded to read.

He read it cover to cover, skipping school for seven days, using his computer voice-enhancer to place calls to the school nurse from his “mother” informing her that he had chickenpox. The contents of the ancient book not only amazed him but led him onto a path he knew he must follow. It forged his destiny.

He learned that his father, Edward Hunter, like
his
father and grandfather before him, was an “everto venator”—a demon hunter. The book contained all their combined wisdom, knowledge, and skills in the art of tracking down and doing battle with demons, and identified the various permutations of the beasts as well as identifying the main demon, the ruler, as the
Lord of Darkness
. He had many monikers, including Devil, Satan, Beelzebub, and Lucifer. In more recent times he’d been referred to as Darkmaster, Bonecracker, and the Dark or Black Spirit. But the truth was, he had no name, because how could you give a name to pure evil?

Throughout history Will’s ancestors had done battle with this terrifying creature but had never defeated him, a task that was now apparently left to Will. Will was tempted to run and ask his mother a zillion questions. But as he read further he learned that the matriarchs were never informed of the exact nature of the family business. It was determined that the less they knew the safer they would remain. So Will’s mother April knew little or nothing of Edward’s demon hunting and Will, too, concluded she was better off if he kept it that way. Will ached to tell her his discovery. If she only knew the truth about Edward’s disappearance she might leave Gerald; her entire life might change. But for her own good she had to remain uninformed.

Will vowed then and there that he would find the Lord of Darkness and destroy him, right
after
he liberated his father. Then he could tell his mother everything, the whole truth. He prayed that he was not too late and held onto hope, figuring that if the demon had wished to kill his father he would have done so right on the spot. But he didn’t; instead he knocked him stupid and kidnapped him, took him hostage. But for what purpose? Will didn’t know but he swore he would find out.

In addition to explaining and detailing a plethora of skills needed to become a master demon hunter, the ancient book also indicated the existence of something called a power rod and gave a
cryptic set of instructions revealing its location. Will decided his first step would be to follow the directions and recover the power rod immediately. He made a couple peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, packed them up, and took a bus from Palo Alto down to Carmel. From the funky old bus station he hiked to the San Carlos Borromeo de Carmelo Mission, a restored California mission first built in 1771.

The mission was a magnificent old pale orange stucco structure and as soon as he stepped onto the grounds Will felt safe and protected. His heels echoed on the tiles as he entered the cathedral and while part of him felt secure and warm and welcomed, another part began to feel terribly uncomfortable, like an unwanted guest in a stranger’s house. Eager to locate the power rod he shook off the feelings and focused, again studying the map he’d copied from the ancient manuscript.

He soon found the herb garden and the graveyard containing the remains of the priests who’d given their lives in service of the mission. Marking off thirteen steps due north he located a sheet of flag-stone and lifted it. Digging into the moist dirt he unearthed an old oilcloth and, unwrapping it, saw that it held the soiled but intact power rod. Wiping away some of the dirt and grime he noticed that the center of the rod—just as the book had said—glowed bright blue. It was a crystal of power and Will couldn’t help but smile because if this thing he held in his hand was anything at all like what he’d read about he’d just found the single most amazing weapon any kid had ever owned. He felt like a king.

His body tingling with excitement he slipped the power rod under his jacket and walked away from the old mission. For a moment he thought he heard angry whispering but when he turned he realized it was just the wind brushing the needles in the pine trees. No one, or rather no
thing
, was after him. Yet.

As he boarded the bus back to Palo Alto and watched the world going by in a blur; all his thoughts were on the power rod under his jacket. When a rough and tumble-looking older boy jostled him
with his backpack and glowered at him threateningly Will kept his cool and just smiled at the jerk.

“Hey, dipwad, who did your makeup?” sneered the tough guy.

Who taught you your manners?
thought Will, but kept his words to himself. When the bully kicked Will’s seat he thought of taking the rod out and activating it. If the ancient book was correct then the rod would enable him to slice the cretin in half. Anger surged within him and he saw the red curtain begin to draw over his mind’s stage. So he prudently got up and walked to the back of the bus. He sat down and stared out the window as the tough kid chuckled victoriously. If he only knew.

“That’s it, chickenshit, you better move it.”

Will dialed the creep out
. Save your anger, there will be bigger battles to fight. Much bigger battles.

The rest of the trip passed without incident and Will took the power rod home. As soon as the sun contracted into the dying light he climbed out his window, walked to the woods, and tested it, cutting through tree branches and shooting fireballs into the river where they hissed out harmlessly.

His power rod was a weapon like no other, but it wasn’t the only weapon of its kind; there were two more identical to it. And the book prophesized that when the three rods were joined together they would form a triangle, a Triad of energy with such awesome power that whoever possessed it would surely be able to subjugate mankind and rule with impunity. It also prophesized gravely that if the three power rods were ever joined together, the being that held it would gain the ability to use a mysterious key—a key that would unlock a portal and unleash incalculable terrors upon the earth.

However you sliced it, Will knew that it would be disastrous if the Darkmaster got his hands on Will’s power rod, so he designed and built the retrieval sleeve and patch, allowing the rod to normally remain hidden but be handy whenever he needed it. The crystal inside it possessed infinite power, which enabled the rod to soar and
hover, cloaked safely in the clouds. In the years that followed Will learned to use the power rod judiciously and it served him well in his battles against the minions of the Lord of Darkness as Will tracked him across the land wherever he took refuge—usually in and around high schools, where he recruited impressionable teenagers, infecting them with his vile thoughts and turning them into wicked souls, the way he was in Harrisburg.

N
atalie and Rudy had barely moved as the tale unfolded. Now they blinked and breathed the night air in deeply. Quite simply, Will had blown their minds.

“I’ve been tracking him . . . them . . . since I was fourteen, going from school to school. You see, he can only infect you in your sixteenth year. If he gets to you, you’re one of them. If he doesn’t, if you make it to seventeen without being infected, then at least he can never take you over wholly.”

“I’m sixteen,” said Natalie.

“So am I,” added Rudy.

Will nodded, and added, “But even if you’re seventeen or older, that doesn’t mean he can’t affect you, or use your body as a host. He does that all the time, uses adult bodies as temporary hosts.”

“How can you tell who’s infected and who’s not?” asked Rudy.

“It’s difficult. If you see someone who’s gone through a rapid physical change, or is suddenly getting straight As or something or looks a little too . . . perfect, chances are he’s hooked them not only by invading their thoughts and tormenting them but by rewarding them with all kinds of crap. Also, lots of people look like demons—
you know, bikers, Goth freaks, punks, just about anyone who thinks it’s cool to wear freaky jewelry and tattoos and piercings like badges. But just because they want to look like a pirate or counter-culture commando or fly their freak flag or whatever doesn’t mean they’re demonic. The Black Prince’s recruits can look perfectly normal, even angelic, you just never know. He has many converts and they are totally, utterly vigilant and do his bidding without question. And actually, I can never be one hundred percent certain what evil is his doing and what’s just . . . human nature. So I poke around and try to follow him. Sometimes I catch a whiff of him, sometimes I just encounter his soldiers.”

Natalie looked at Will with sympathy.

“So you’re always the New Kid in school?”

“That’s right.”

“You never get to really settle down and make friends?”

“Not really, but it’s cool.”

Will looked away, pretending to study the night sky so Natalie wouldn’t see the moisture in his eyes.

“I’m sorry, Will, that must be really hard.”

She touched his hand and though he tried to remain stoic he felt his muscles slacken slightly, felt his hand going warm, the blood rushing to the place she was touching him. His face flushed and he withdrew his hand.

“Like I said, it’s no big. And besides, I’m used to it,” he said.

“You said
infected
. . . how does he do it? How does somebody get ‘infected’ anyway?” asked Rudy.

Will’s eyes narrowed.

“You sure you want to hear this?”

Both Natalie and Rudy nodded enthusiastically. There was nothing like a good scary story to pique one’s interest. The fact that this wasn’t a story but was real didn’t seem to bother them.

“I caught a demonteen one time and he told me all about it. Just before I wasted him. You’ve heard of tinnitus?” asked Will.

“That’s like ringing in your ears, right?” said Natalie.

“Exactly. Most of the time it’s a ringing, but sometimes it sounds like a buzzing or a crackling or a hissing. It’s the sound your brain makes when it’s trying to rewire itself.”

“Oh man!” said Rudy, clutching his ears, “That’s happened to me like a billion times in my life!”

“It doesn’t mean anything, it’s just how it starts. It’s like he’s calling you on the phone or something,” said Will. “When the ringing stops you hear him say your name, three times. Then he tells you to embrace the dark side. It can be just a thought or it can be something you do, something you know is wrong. And if you think it, or do it, you feel this incredible rush of energy surging through your body. He tells you to open yourself to him, to make a mark. It can be as small as a prick on your finger or a little cut, just as long as you raise at least one drop of blood. Once your blood is exposed to air then that’s it, game over, you’re infected.”

Rudy and Natalie were silent, allowing the full impact of Will’s narrative to sink in. A cool breeze swept through the park and Natalie felt her skin prickle with goose bumps.

“I’ve always known there was something going on here in Harrisburg,” said Natalie. “I knew it even before they took my sister.”