Ash Return Of The Beast Part 31

Ravenwood let out an exasperated sigh. She turned and walked a few steps away, paused a moment, then came back. She touched Tocho's arm. "I'm sorry." She sounded tired. "I shouldn't be yelling at you. I just can't believe this is happening."

Tocho nodded. "It's all right."

She snorted a little nervous laugh. "Yeah, I wish."

CHAPTER 63.

Albuquerque International Airport...

5:07 p.m.

After arriving in Albuquerque, they learned the next flight to Seattle wouldn't be departing for another hour. Ravenwood's nerves were on edge. She thought about calling Kane but what good would it do? She'd already told him she was on her way home and the thought of trying to tell him over the phone what she'd experienced in some shaman's hut in the jungles of San Cristobal just seemed crazy. In fact she was sure that's what he'd think. Explaining it to him face-to-face, oddly enough, might be somehow easier, somehow make her sound less insane. As if that was even possible.

As they stood there in the middle of the airport with nothing else to do, she threw an arm over Tocho's shoulder. "I could use a stiff one," she said. Tocho's facial response made her roll her eyes. "Get your head out of the gutter, my friend. I meant I could use a drink."

They walked to the Route 66 Lounge right there in the airport and ordered a couple of drinks. Tocho ordered a double. The minutes pa.s.sed with excruciating reluctance as they sipped their drinks with hardly a word spoken between them.

It was during those vast moments of silence that the real gravity of the situation truly sank into Tocho's head. Not that he hadn't understood what was going on. It was all clear enough. Still, it was only now that a feeling of impending doom flowed through him like dark, icy water filling the lungs of a drowning man. He believed every word of what Ravenwood had described about her trip into the Underworld, what she'd experienced, what she'd seen and what was about to be unleashed unless, somehow, by some miracle, she was able to stop it from happening. Maybe he'd been unconsciously pus.h.i.+ng it to the back of his mind, keeping it at bay behind a temporary wall of denial. Maybe now the alcohol was loosening the mortar that had held that wall in place. He could feel that wall crumbling and fear was seeping in through the cracks.

Ravenwood had been staring down into her drink, stirring the ice cubes round and round with a little pink straw. Tocho ordered another double and slugged it down.

She looked up as he set his empty gla.s.s on the table. She smiled.

He couldn't quite read the smile. It seemed somehow like an empty gesture, something to do when there was nothing to say. His last drink was taking effect and the table that separated them grew longer by the second until the distance between them reminded him of a cartoon of a ridiculously long dining table with a husband sitting at one end and the wife sitting at the other as they ate their meal in complete silence, together yet apart. He and Ravenwood had always been together yet apart for as long as he could remember. Not that he'd wanted it that way. Quite the opposite. But it just wasn't in the cards. They were destined to be just friends. Not even friends with benefits. Just friends. But there was no point in thinking about any of that now. Now he only wondered if he'd ever see her again.

"Gotta go," Ravenwood said, pointing to the clock on the wall.

The sudden comment jarred Tocho out of his alcohol induced fog. "What? Oh. Yeah."

His legs wobbled as he tried to stand. He leaned against the table to steady himself.

Ravenwood offered her arm. "C'mon, sailor. Let's get you home."

Home, for Tocho, was Sun City, just an hour's drive from their present location.

Tocho took her arm and then, in one swift move, he slid his hands around her waist, pulled her to him and kissed her pa.s.sionately on the mouth. She was taken aback but, for whatever reason, she didn't immediately resist the embrace. But Tocho's moment ended all too soon as she gently nudged herself away. Her face was flushed as she brushed back a strand of hair and pretended to smooth out her s.h.i.+rt.

"s.h.i.+t. I'm sorry," Tocho said. He grimaced at the sound of his own voice. "I don't... that was pathetic."

Ravenwood smiled. This time the smile had some life behind it. "No, it wasn't," she said.

Tocho looked surprised. A glimmer of hope lit up his eyes. "It wasn't?"

"No, but don't try it again."

The glimmer in his eyes fizzled like a wet match. But the smile was still on her lips as she spoke so he knew she wasn't angry.

"Well, that's kinda why I did it," he said with a shrug of embarra.s.sment.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, I was afraid maybe I'd never see you again. I couldn't help myself. I'm sorry."

"You're drunk, is what you mean."

He nodded. "Yeah, that too. A little. Forgive me?"

She picked up her purse and offered her arm once again. "Nothing to forgive."

As they walked out, arm-in-arm, Ravenwood hailed a taxi to take Tocho home. The driver got out and opened the back door of the car. Ravenwood and Tocho stood for a moment, hand in hand, facing each other.

"Well," Tocho said, "if I never see you again, I guess"

"Shut up and go home." She squeezed his hand and gave him a quick peck on the cheek. "And thank you. I couldn't have done any of this without you. I owe you. With any luck, the whole d.a.m.n world will owe you."

He shrugged. "We'll see. Good luck."

"Yeah. Now get out of here. I've got a plane to catch and a world to save."

9:05 p.m.

Kane was in the kitchen when the phone rang. He sprinted to the living room to check the caller I.D. It's about time. He grabbed the phone. "Where the h.e.l.l are you?"

"Nice to hear your voice, too. I just got into Seattle. I'm at the Sea-Tac Airport. Gotta make a quick stop and then I'm heading for your place."

"All right, hurry up. s.h.i.+t's happening." He almost hung up and then remembered. "Wait. You still there?

"Yeah." She thought maybe she was about to get an apology for his rudeness.

"Don't take the freeway," he said. "Some j.e.r.k.-.o.f.f. tried to cut in front of a semi. Thing jack-knifed. Traffic's all f.u.c.ked up."

"Thanks. Be there as soon as I can." The Teddy Bear must be in deep hibernation.

CHAPTER 64.

Kane's Apartment 10:15 p.m.

When Kane opened the door he barely recognized the woman standing in front of him. She looked like she'd been sleeping in her clothes. Her hair seemed like it hadn't been washed in a week. She looked older, somehow. The only makeup she had on was some lipstick. Maybe not even that. He couldn't quite tell.

"Well," she said, "are you just going to stand there gawking or invite me in?"

"Yeah, sorry." He swung the door open and stepped aside.

She walked in and took a cursory survey of the place before plopping down on the couch, exhausted. "Nice place." It was the only thing even close to a normal home that she'd been in since that evening in Tocho's upstairs flat back in Sky City. It seemed like ages ago. Another lifetime.

"Look at you," Kane said, still standing by the door. "What the h.e.l.l have you been doing? Where have you been?"

"I'll tell you if you'll just shut up and listen."

"Well, you better hurry up. Cowl, came out of his coma. Halverson's got him under sedation, but"

"I know. You told me on the phone. Now listen. I've got something to tell you."

Ravenwood gave him the digest version of where she'd been and what she'd been doing. She hoped she'd be able to convince him that this whole thing was absolutely real, erase any doubt that may still be lingering in his mind about the consequences of failing to stop Cowl. She knew Kane was aware of how dangerous Cowl was. But before leaving for New Mexico, she'd sensed that maybe he still had at least a shred of doubt about the reality of the magick and the idea of demons taking over the planet even in spite of the things he'd seen but couldn't explain. She could hardly blame him. This was her territory. It was her job. She'd lived with it for years. Most peoplepeople like Kanebelieve such things only happen in low-budget horror films with wanna-be actors and bad dialog. She fully antic.i.p.ated Kane's reaction. But telling her story was all she could do. If he didn't believe her she would have to live with it and hope he wouldn't try to stop her from carrying out her plan.

"So, that's it," she said, finis.h.i.+ng her story. "I'm sure you don't"

"I believe you."

"What?"

"Yeah. I know. You didn't see that one coming, did you?" He got up and paced the floor while he talked. "Why do you think I've been out of my mind wondering where the h.e.l.l you were and when the h.e.l.l you'd be back? Now, listen. I've got something to tell you."

He sat down and told her about Cowl coming out of the coma and the scaring on his head in the shape of the number, 666. He was surprised that she looked shocked. "What?" he asked. "You don't believe me? That's a switch."

"No, it's just that..." she paused. "I didn't see that coming, either. It doesn't exactly fit the biblical sequence of events for the coming of the Antichrist. But there is a connection. It's the number 'nine' again."

She explained how in the book of Revelation, chapter 13, it says the Antichrist will have a head wound and he will reign with authority over the earth for a period of forty-two months. Then she got a pen and paper and showed Kane how the English gematria value of the word 'nine' is 42.

Kane had heard enough. In fact, he'd heard so much that he was practically numb to it by now. He didn't need any more convincing. "So what do you think we should do now?"

She didn't have to think. She'd already come up with a plan. "He has to die. There's no way around it."

"Yeah. I pretty much figured that. But how?"

"I'm going to kill him."

Kane's eyebrows shot up. "You. You're going murder Rye Cowl."

"You got a better idea?"

"Not really. But how?"

"Cyanide."

"What?"

"He's unconscious, right? You said the doctor has him sedated."

"Yeah, but that's the problem. Doesn't a cyanide pill only work if the person crushes it by biting on it?"

"I'll make it work." She looked at her watch. It was 11 p.m. "We've only got an hour get to the hospital and get this done. I'll drive."

"But wait a minute. Where are you going to get the cyanide pill?"

"I told you I had to make a quick stop on my way here. Remember?"

He gave her a puzzled look.

"Don't ask," she said, grabbing him by the arm. "We're wasting time. Let's go."

On the way out the door, Kane suddenly thought about Pastor Pete. It was the same old mixed emotion. If we're successful, the old b.a.s.t.a.r.d will live. f.u.c.kin' shame. He slammed the door.

No one at the Trail's End trailer park heard the shot. If they did, they pretended they didn't. It was none of their business. Pastor Pete's body, naked under his old gray flannel robe, lay motionless on the crumpled bed covers, his right arm draped lifelessly over the edge of the bed. The pistol was on the floor just inches from his dangling hand. His head was turned to the side, the pillow soaked in blood.

11:06 p.m.

Ravenwood flipped a switch on the dashboard of her black SUV. The red and blue lights behind the grill started strobing. She switched on the siren and gunned the vehicle out onto the empty street. Before they even reached the end of the block Kane hit her with his confession.

"I know who the next victim is," he said, looking straight ahead.

Ravenwood slammed on the brakes, the SUV screeched to a stop and she cut the siren. She turned to him. "What did you just say?"

Still gazing straight ahead, he took a deep breath. "I know who the ninth victim is." He turned and looked at her. "My dad."

He might as well have said it was Santa Claus. It would have made as much sense. She gave her head a quick shake. "What?"

"Remember the phone call I got when we were at Harlan Bodine's place? The eighth victim? The guy whose kid committed suicide?"

Ravenwood nodded. "Yeah. The call you wouldn't talk about."

His eyes turned back to the street. "Yeah. Well, it was my dad. Adoptive dad, actually. A no-good son of a b.i.t.c.h." He pursed his lips and took a deep breath. "And a preacher."

Ravenwood's eyes grew wide. "Wait. Let me get this straight. Your father"

"Adoptive."