After The Exorcism: Book Two Page 2

  “Scout?” she heard.

  She blacked out.

  *

  When Scout came around, her gun and knife were laid out on the coffee table in front of her. She was lying on a couch. She sat up quickly and looked up. Dr Maddox looked back at her with concern from a chair opposite.

  “It’s OK,” he said. “Don’t worry. You’re safe, Scout.”

  Scout touched her head. There was a drop of blood.

  “I’m sorry,” Dr Maddox said. “I didn’t recognize you right away.”

  Standing behind Dr Maddox, hugging the kitchen doorway and peeking out, was a teenage boy. He looked afraid of Scout. Dr Maddox turned and looked at the boy.

  “It’s alright, Robbie,” he said. “You can go to bed. Everything’s OK.”

  Robbie didn’t move.

  “Off you go,” Dr Maddox said.

  Robbie was nervous. He walked through the room and into the hall. Dr Maddox’s lounge was bigger than Scout’s entire apartment and decorated in the same clean, warm style as his office.

  “Night,” Robbie said.

  When Robbie was upstairs and out of earshot, Dr Maddox turned back to Scout.

  “Why are you carrying weapons?” he said.

  Scout swallowed. “You know where I live,” she said.

  “You always carry a knife and a gun in your belt like that?” he took out his own gun and laid it on the coffee table with a clink against the glass surface. “I’m worried about you, Scout. I have to tell you, I’m considering recommending a stay in hospital.”

  Scout sat up. “What? No!”

  “Have you seen yourself, Scout?” he said. “You don’t look well. You’re thinner than the last time we met, a lot thinner. You’re sneaking around my house with a gun and a knife in the middle of the night.”

  “I’ve seen things,” Scout said.

  “What did you see?” Dr Maddox said, sitting forward. “Are you having hallucinations?”

  Scout sat up straight. “No,” she said. “I’m not hallucinating anything. Two people have been murdered right in front of my eyes.”

  Dr Maddox covered his mouth with his hand. “Was it people you knew?”

  Scouted nodded.

  “Have you been to the police?”

  Scout said nothing.

  “You have to go to the police. Who did this? The same person?”

  “Different people,” Scout said. “But they all sounded the same. They had the same voices. They were being controlled.”

  “Controlled?” A hint of skepticism entered Dr Maddox’s tone.

  Dr Maddox stood up and started pacing.

  “I want you to know, Scout,” he said, “I’m thinking about your safety. I’m really concerned. Maybe it would be best if you rested up somewhere for a while.”

  “The group you recommended,” Scout said. “How did you hear about them?”

  “I’ve been friends with Tara for a long time,” he said. “I haven’t seen her in a while, but I knew she was running this group. Have you found it helpful?”

  “Something is wrong with them,” Scout said.

  “What do you mean, wrong?”

  “I think maybe they killed someone.”

  “What are-”

  “A woman was killed in front of me,” Scout said. She stood, getting worked up. “Three people used machetes on her. She was convinced there was something wrong with the group. I don’t know if it’s them - I hope not - but it’s someone. There are demons, doctor. They’re coming for me.”

  Dr Maddox stood by his fireplace with his back to Scout. He looked back over his shoulder and caught her looking at his gun. “I’m thinking about an emergency detention, Scout.”

  “You can’t do that!”

  “I think you might be a danger to yourself or to other people. If something was to happen to you, I would be responsible.”

  Scout’s eyes locked on Dr Maddox’s gun, which was lying on the other side of the table. It was a chambered pistol, and it was loaded.

  “Don’t,” Dr Maddox said. “Scout, no.”

  Scout lunged across the table and grabbed at the gun. Dr Maddox ran for the gun, too. Scout reached it first and pulled it up to aim at Dr Maddox, but he grabbed it, also gripping Scout’s hands.

  “What the hell are you doing?” he said.

  “I can’t keep running,” Scout shouted. “I can’t keep talking about things! I have to live my life!”

  The gun waved back and forth as Scout held on and Dr Maddox tried to wrestle it free. “Scout, no!”

  The gun went off in Scout’s hands. Dr Maddox froze. His mouth opened in shock. Scout looked down and saw a growing circle of blood on his shirt. He was shot in the heart. Dr Maddox dropped to his knees, still holding the gun by the barrel.

  “Scout…” he said, before releasing the gun and dropping to the floor.

  Blood poured thick and fast from the hole in his chest. Scout heard footsteps rushing down the stairs.

  “Dad!” came the cry as Robbie appeared at the door. “What have you done?!”

  Scout began to shake and cry and pointed the gun at Robbie. “Stay back!”

  She moved towards the door slowly. Robbie ran and kneeled beside his dead. He put his hand over his dad’s chest, just as he made a guttural groaning sound and his breathing stopped. Robbie’s eyes went wide and he looked up at Scout.

  “He’s dead!” Robbie screamed. “Why did you do that?!”

  “It was an acc-” Scout stammered.

  “Get out!” Robbie screamed.

  He picked up a mug off the coffee table and threw it at Scout. She lifted her leg to dodge it and it hit her in the knee. She limped to the front door. On a table on the side was Dr Maddox’s wallet. Scout saw the cash inside it. She opened the wallet and pulled all the cash out.

  Limping down the street, Scout was crying uncontrollably. She tucked her knife back into her belt and held Dr Maddox’s gun in her coat pocket. Her mind was a flurry of insults aimed at herself and a snowstorm of thoughts about all the ways in which her life was irrevocably ruined.

  She started to cross the street and a car slammed on its brakes, skidding and swerving, nearly hitting her.

  The car door opened and a burly man got out and started shouting in a thick Boston accent. “Are you outta ya fuckin’ mind? What the fuck is wrong with you? I nearly hit you!”

  When he saw that Scout was crying and splattered with blood he stopped shouting.

  “Shit,” he said. “Are you OK?”

  Scout pulled her gun.

  “What the fuck?!” He threw up his hands and backed away.

  “Get lost,” Scout said, sniffing through her tears. “I’m taking your car.”

  “Like fuck you are!”

  Scout took two steps towards him and put the gun near his face. “Try me,” she said.

  “Take it,” he said. “Take it.”

  Scout jumped in the car and locked the doors.

  “Wait!” the man was shouting. He banged on her window. “Please!”

  Scout looked around. There was a baby in a big plastic rocker strapped in to the back seat.

  “Jesus,” Scout said.

  She looked at the man and he was pleading with her. “Please,” he said. “Don’t take my girl.”

  Scout thought for a moment. She shuffled herself around. She unlocked the rear door and held her gun ready. The man opened it up and unbuckled his daughter from the seat. He pulled the plastic rocker out. Scout watched him closely. He moved back from the car and slammed the door shut. Scout spotted a wool blanket on the back seat. She grabbed it and rolled down the driver’s side window. She threw it to the man and he caught it.

  “I’m so sorry,” Scout said.

  Scout drove.

  She gunned it as fast as it would go away from Dr Maddox’s house, away from what she had done.

  Scout was running again, she realized. But this run was temporary. She was running home, she was gathering her things, and then she was go
ing to fight.

  The next group meeting was tomorrow. If they showed, it would be her last chance.

  It was kill or be killed.

  *

  Scout dumped the car in her neighborhood, just around the corner from Lovell Tower, and walked the rest of the way home. She had the gun in her pocket and blood on her coat.

  She crossed the courtyard. She didn’t think to pull up her hood. She limped. She didn’t adjust her posture. She looked battered. When she saw the same group of teenage boys who always hung around drinking and smoking weed outside the building, she quietly cursed herself for not anticipating them being there. There were five of them altogether, three black and two white. They were stood directly in front of her building.

  One of them looked up as they were mid-conversation. He stopped what he was saying and nudged his friend.

  Scout gripped the gun tight in one pocket. In the other, she held onto Maddox’s cash. Scout couldn’t pull her gun here, she knew that. For her one gun, they might have two apiece. She would never be able to walk by them again without being jumped. She had to do something else.

  “Hey, baby,” one of the boys said as he stepped out of the group towards her, blocking her path to the entrance. He was black, muscular but thin, about eighteen or nineteen years old, and dressed in Adidas pants with an oversized white t-shirt and a bright red Redwings baseball cap.

  “She’s fine, Franco,” another said. “Shit.”

  Scout stopped in front of them. It took a real effort to look up. She was trembling. She felt blood dripping down her clothes. She couldn’t even force a smile.

  “Damn,” Franco said, laughing. “Someone’s had a rough night.”

  “We can always make it rougher,” the other boy said. “Look at that body.”

  Scout gripped the gun so hard in her pocket her hand was beginning to hurt. She looked Franco in the eyes. She didn’t blink. She was shaking, but she didn’t look away. Franco’s grin faded.

  “I seen this girl before,” Franco said, staring at her. “You live here?”

  Scout nodded shakily.

  “What’s a white girl like you doing living in a place like this?”

  Scout couldn’t speak. She didn’t want her voice to waver. She didn’t trust it not to falter. Franco looked her up and down hungrily. He spotted blood on her coat and the shape of a gun barrel in her pocket. His grin dropped away. He frowned and really looked at Scout’s face.

  “Baby, you got a boyfriend?” the other boy said.

  “Yo, shut the fuck up, Marcus,” Franco said. He lowered his head a little, to better meet Scout’s eyeline. He looked concerned. “You alright, girl?” he said.

  Scout was taken aback. She needed to say yes. She wanted to say no.

  “Someone fucking with you?” he said.

  “What the fuck, Franco?” Marcus said.

  “Hey, shut the fuck up,” Franco said. “This girl lives here, man.” He looked at Scout. “Right?” he said.

  Scout nodded.

  “She one of us,” Franco said.

  Franco stepped aside and waved her through. Scout straightened up. She found the courage to look at the other boys. Marcus looked annoyed and spat on the floor, but the others nodded at her to acknowledge her.

  Scout looked at Franco and tried not to cry. She nodded to him and walked past them.

  Franco called after her and she stopped with her hand on the door to the building. He said, “Yo, anyone fucks with you, you tell us, right, girl?”

  Scout looked back. She let go of the door handle. She wasn’t trembling any more.

  She walked back over to the boys.

  “Can you get me a real gun,” Scout said.

  Franco cocked his head at her in confusion.

  “I want something that can do a lot of damage,” Scout said. “I got a car around the corner. It’s stolen, but I got the keys. If you can do something with it, you can have it. The police are looking for it tonight. They’re looking really hard.”

  Franco looked at his boys and they shared looks of surprise. He nodded to Marcus.

  Scout tossed Marcus the keys. “It’s a silver BMW.”

  “Nice,” Marcus said. He ran off in the direction of the car.

  Franco nodded and looked back at Scout. “What’s your name girl?” he said.

  “Scout.”

  Franco nodded. “I think I got what you need, Scout. Follow me.”

  Chapter 11

  The basement of Lovell Tower had been off limits since Scout had moved in. She avoided dark, lonely places. As she followed Franco deeper into the belly of the building, it grew darker and lonelier.

  “What do you need firepower for?” Franco said.

  “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you,” she said.

  They came to a steel door. Franco knocked. A hatch slid open and a pair of eyes appeared. Franco nodded at them and the was unbolted from the other side.

  “You a bank robber?” Franco said, looking back at Scout. He gestured for her to enter the room.

  Scout walked in, passing a hugely overweight 6’ 7 giant of a man in a basketball jersey. He had a lawn chair, boxes of chips, cases of beer and a portable television showing a basketball game. He frowned in confusion at Scout. Then he looked at Franco and grinned. Franco shook his head at him.

  They walked through into a small back room. The walls were lined with hooks and shelves and the hooks and shelves were adorned with all manner of firearms. It was an arsenal.

  Franco closed the door. He received a text and checked his phone.

  “The car checks out,” he said. “I don’t get you.”

  “What don’t you get?” Scout said.

  “I don’t know what you are,” he said. “Are you a stick-up artist? Are you a bank robber? You gonna murder someone? You a stone-cold psychopath? You don’t look like that.”

  “What do I look like?” Scout said.

  “A girl,” Franco said. “Same as any other.”

  “Well,” she said, “I’m not.”

  Scout saw a matte black tactical shotgun hung on the wall. She touched it gently, then grabbed it down.

  “What are you?”

  Scout thought for a moment.

  She checked the shotgun was empty. She grabbed a box of shells.

  “I’m guess I’m an exorcist,” she said.

  “An exorcist,” Franco said. “Huh. So, you’re hunting… what?”

  “Demons,” Scout said. She took Seline’s notebook out. She opened it up to the bestiary section and Franco leaned in to look at the demon profiles.

  “You believe all this shit?” Franco said.

  “I don’t just believe it, I’ve lived it.” She turned to the page featuring Asmodeus. “This one,” Scout said, “he had a hold of me for a long time. I was possessed.”

  “No shit,” Franco said.

  Scout looked at him. “No shit,” she said. “The priest who saved me got a knife in the throat. The nun who owned this book got tore up with machetes. And they’re coming for me next.”

  “You know who’s doin’ all this?”

  “Yes,” Scout said. “And I know where they’ll be.”

  “How many of these demons you talking about?”

  “One demon,” Scout said. “It’s possessed one person, for sure. There may be others who it’s controlling.”

  Franco nodded, looking bemused, but interested. Franco took down an AK-47 assault rifle off the shelf. “You doing this by yourself?” he said.

  Scout nodded.

  Franco took a necklace out from under his shirt. On the end was a crucifix. He kissed it. He nodded at Scout. “Not any more,” he said.

  Scout smiled. For a moment, the fear was gone. She realized that’s all she ever looked for, in Dr Maddox, in Tara, in anyone. She just wanted someone to say they were on her side.

  “For someone who’s gone through all that shit,” Franco said, “you still got a killer smile.”

  Scout held up the shotgun.
“Can you show me how to shoot this?”

  Franco said, “You in the right place.”

  There was a sudden hammering on the exterior door to the safe room. Franco opened the door to the weapons stash and watched his big friend open the hatch.

  “Yo,” came a voice from the other side, “tell Franco the place is swarming with cops. They’re looking for that girl.”

  Franco walked out. “We got that car away, right?”

  “It’s away, yeah.”

  Franco looked at Scout. “You’re very popular tonight,” he said.

  He knocked up the barrel of the shotgun she was holding.

  “That’s not how you hold that shit,” he said. “Come on, girl. We’re gonna be down here a while.”

  *

  Scout studied the notebook and tried to memorized the places of the prayers. The exorcism ritual consisted exclusively of prayers for the first part. The trick was to get the demon where it couldn’t harm you, to restrain it. That’s where Franco would come in. He could tie people up and make sure they didn’t move before the ritual could get underway.

  And if she could get the demon to manifest, they could both start shooting.

  She wasn’t sure what to expect, but she expected it to be messy.

  Marcus appeared after three hours and said, “The cops are gonna be gone real soon, but looks like they’re leaving a patrol car outside just in case your girl here shows her face.”

  “They’ll be out the area thought, right?” Franco said.

  “Is there another way out of the building beside the front entrance?” Scout asked.

  “Sure,” Franco said. “We got Scooby Doo tunnels all over this shit. It’s like a fuckin’ beehive.”

  “Really?” Scout said.

  Franco laughed. “Nope,” he said. “But let’s just go jump out of some motherfucker’s window on the other side of the building.” He laughed and shook his head.

  Scout frowned.

  They grabbed their gear, being two backpacks filled with guns and ammo and Seline’s book.

  “Wait,” Scout said. “Do you have a crucifix and a Bible.”

  Franco nodded, “Course. You want them?”

  Franco’s apartment was a mirror image of Scout’s in terms of the layout, but was identical in size. A voice called out as he went inside.