Dead Harvest

  'Kid, I don't know where you heard that name, but believe me when I tell you, you'd best forget it quick, you hear? Now why don't you run along to Mommy – I'm sure she'd hate to hear what kind of trouble her baby's gettin' hisself into.'

  'It's about the girl.'

  'What girl you talking about?'

  'You know what girl,' Pinch said.

  'Honest, baby, I don't. Maybe you could come inside and tell me?'

  'I'll only talk to Merihem.'

  'Well, then, I guess I got no choice. Come on in, child, and I'll take you to him.'

  'I'm young, I'm not stupid. He wants to talk to me, he can bring his ass out here.'

  Her eyes flashed with anger at that last. 'You'd best watch that mouth of yours, boy – you don't know who it is you're speaking of.'

  'I know enough,' he said. 'Just go get him.'

  The woman disappeared back into the house, and the door swung shut. Pinch shifted from foot to foot as he waited, rubbing his hands together to ward off the cold. He glanced around again, looking down the street away from us, and then directly toward the van. If he saw us inside, he didn't let on.

  'I don't get it,' Kate said. 'She seemed pissed he wouldn't go inside, but that chick was twice his size – why didn't she just grab him?'

  I smiled despite myself. 'Because she couldn't. See, she can try to tempt him all she likes, but if he won't enter of his own accord, there's nothing she can do to make him. Sin is all about free will, which means evil has no power unless you grant it.'

  'Tell that to my family.'

  I flushed. 'Kate, I'm sorry. You know I didn't mean–'

  'Forget it,' she said. 'Something's happening.'

  The flophouse door swung open again, but this time, the errand girl was nowhere to be seen. Merihem looked down at the boy, a benevolent smile pasted on his face. Even from here, I could see it didn't touch his eyes. They exchanged a few words, and then Pinch beckoned Merihem to follow him. I dropped the van into gear and waited.

  They stepped off of the curb and headed west across the street – Pinch leading, Merihem a couple steps behind. I floored the gas and the van lurched forward. Beside me, Kate screamed.

  'Sam, what the hell are you doing?'

  'Hold on to something,' I replied.

  'I thought this was a stakeout!'

  'Change of plans.'

  The van shook like it was coming apart at the seams, and the engine whined in protest, but I kept the pedal to the floor. Merihem looked toward us, startled by the sudden noise. His eyes registered shock and surprise as they met mine. Then they registered the windshield as the van slammed full bore into him.

  I hit the brakes. The van screeched to a halt. Merihem didn't. He skittered across the pavement for a moment, a tangle of limbs and tattered clothes, and then slid to a stop, leaning heavily against the curb.

  I threw open the driver's side door and sprinted toward him, tire iron in hand. An acrid cloud of burnt rubber hung like fog over the roadway. Merihem shook his head as if to clear it, and tried to stand. I hit him with the tire iron, and he went down. Just stunned, I knew, and not for long, but it was all I needed. I leapt atop him and stuffed a shard from the ceramic cat into his mouth, wedging it tight such that the tip dug into the soft flesh of his palate. Merihem whimpered in sudden pain.

  'Pinch, now!' I called. The kid picked himself up off the pavement and yanked a roll of duct tape from his coat pocket, tossing it to me.

  'Jesus, Sam,' Pinch said, 'could you have cut that any closer?'

  'You're still standing,' I replied. I tore off a length of duct tape and pressed it tight to Merihem's mouth, wrapping it around his head a couple times for good measure. I grabbed him by the lapel and pulled him close, his nose nearly touching mine.

  'The shard in your mouth – you know what it is?'

  Merihem nodded, eyes wide with fear.

  'Good. If I were you, I'd concentrate real hard on not biting down on it, or you might end up going byebye, you get me?'

  Again, he nodded. I kicked him over, and grabbed his wrists, binding them tight behind his back with duct tape. Ankles, too. He grunted something unintelligible. I ignored it.

  'Pinch,' I called, 'help me get him up! Kate, get the doors open!'

  I grabbed Merihem by the arms. Pinch scooped up his ankles. Together, we hauled him to the van. Kate, who'd watched the whole affair with obvious horror through the windshield of the van, snapped out of it in time to climb in back and throw open the rear doors. We tossed in Merihem, and Pinch climbed in, too, pulling the doors closed behind him. Then I hopped into the driver's seat and punched it. The whole affair couldn't have taken more than thirty seconds, start to finish.

  Son of a bitch, I thought – we just kidnapped a demon. I glanced back at the demon in question, noting with no small measure of fear the hatred that glinted in his eyes.