Dead Harvest

I tumbled onto the platform, the flaming wreck of the train clipping my ankle as it sailed past and sending me skittering across the tiles. I came to rest in a dingy yellow corner littered with gum and filth and smelling faintly of piss, and as I lay there, taking stock to see if I'd brought all my limbs with me, I thought it might just be the most beautiful place I'd ever seen.

  Kate lay on her back just a few feet away, her chest heaving with exertion, her face beet-red and drenched in sweat. As her eyes briefly met mine, though, I saw they were wild with life, as I'm sure mine were as well. What a sight we must've been, although there was no one there to see us; out of the corner of my eye, I caught a glimpse of the last stragglers from the platform fleeing streetside up the stairs. I guess nobody wanted to stay to watch the train wreck. Thinking back to the station we'd just come from, I suspected the people in this one had no idea how lucky they just were.

  'You OK?' Kate asked. I rolled onto my side, watching her as she rested her head against the station floor and lay staring at the ceiling, chest heaving with breath after gasping breath. She looked as exhausted as I felt.

  'Yeah. You?'

  'Yeah. But what about Veloch? Is he dead?'

  I shook my head, and then realized that, facing the ceiling as she now was, there's no way she could have caught that. 'No,' I said. 'Just his vessel.'

  'Is that why they didn't go all buggy and stuff like Merihem did? Because we didn't really kill them?'

  'Yeah. Most higher order demons, like Merihem or Beleth, have the ability to walk among us unseen – to trick our eyes and minds into seeing them as human. They'll possess someone if it suits their purposes, but it's hardly a necessity. The foot soldiers don't have that kind of power. If they want to hide their demon natures, they're forced to take a human vessel. Of course, a human vessel is nowhere near as powerful as an actual demon, but the upside is, it makes the demon less vulnerable to attack – if they get bounced from their vessel, they just retreat to their physical selves. Merihem didn't have that luxury, and now he's gone for keeps – hence the big, messy exit.'

  Kate fell silent for a moment while she caught her breath. 'So those people they – what's the word – inhabited?'

  'Possessed.'

  'Right. Possessed. Those people they possessed – we killed them, though, right?'

  'Sort of,' I said. 'I mean, it's complicated. See, when a demon takes a host, it's not like when I do. I was human once, so human is how I see myself. If I remake a vessel in my image, I'm just rearranging their thoughts, the occasional mannerism – and even then, it takes time. When a demon possesses someone, they have a tendency to warp that person in their image. To some extent, they can't help it, although many use it to their advantage, as our friends back there did – they bring with them their strength, their speed, their everything, until not much of the host being remains. Those guys back there warped those bodies faster than I'd ever seen. Even if we had the time for an exorcism – which we didn't – I doubt they would have survived.'

  'So what does that mean about me? How'd the demon that killed my family change me? '

  I sat up and looked at her, unsure of how to respond. After a moment's reflection, I decided to tell Kate the truth. 'I don't know.'

  She seemed to turn my answer over in her mind as if inspecting it, and then she nodded. 'So where are their physical selves? Where do they go, when you expel them from their vessels?'

  'I have no idea. Hell's a big place.'

  'I thought you said that this was hell.'

  'For me, it is. For others, as well. But hell's not just this island, this city, this planet; it's everywhere, just a hair's breadth away from the 'reality' you see. You ask me, that gives them plenty of latitude to hide.'

  'Can they come back?'

  I nodded. 'All we did was slow 'em down.'

  'Well, then,' Kate said, climbing to her feet and extending a helping hand to me, 'what do you say to not being here when they do?'

We emerged from the station at the corner of Lexington and Sixtieth. Overhead, the gray sky deepened toward black as evening settled over the city. Sirens wailed in the distance – in response to the train wreck, no doubt. The midtown traffic must've slowed them up, though, because so far, they were nowhere to be seen. My thoughts turned to the hulking mass of twisted metal that sat burning beneath our feet, and the people doubtless trapped within it. I pushed those thoughts aside. There was nothing I could do for them. And if I failed to keep Kate safe, there was nothing I could do for anybody.

  'Come on, we've gotta get moving.' I took Kate by the arm, and led her away from the station. But just a few steps later, I stopped cold.

  The squat storefront of Mulgheney's sat huddled before me, spilling neon red across the sidewalk like the last sixty years had never happened. Actually, that wasn't quite true: you could see those years in the film of grime that coated the storefront windows, in the dulling of its chromed marquee; a few feet above the door, an ancient air conditioner – not yet present when I'd last laid eyes on the place – dripped rust down the transom below. But all of that was swept away by the wave of remembrance that washed over me. The reek of the place, all cigarettes and whiskey and cheap cologne. The heady mix of lust and greed, of sin, that I'd mistaken for good cheer, for the promise of a better life for me and Elizabeth both.

  No. Looking back, that wasn't true. I hadn't mistaken it for anything. Even then, I'd known better. Somewhere, deep down, I'd known exactly what it was that I'd so blithely bargained away. After all, I know better than anyone that's the way these bargains work. If the mark doesn't understand the stakes, then the deal is null and void.

  So yeah, I'd known. I'd known it all along. And if I had the chance to do it all again, I'd probably play it the