The Awakening

A hard kick took out the only stationary knee, and the body slumped to the ground. Gaby half turned and kicked again, driving the vision to its back. Another kick and the body went as flat as something so crippled could.

This soul had perpetuated a different kind of evil. It had robbed people of their livelihoods through fraud, stealing their homes and their life savings. And yep, like the others, it had spent its time alone, without visitors, without caring or concern from any other living soul.

Appropriate.

Satisfied, Gaby raised her foot—and stomped it down hard on the throat.

Life drifted away.

'Gaby?'

Oh shit. No time now to puke.

An awful fear rang in Mort's voice.

Had he seen it all?

Why the hell hadn't he gone back as she'd told him to?

'Gaby, do you hear the sirens?' Above the fear, Mort's tone was oddly gentle. 'We need to go. I think Luther must've called in for help before he got hurt.'

Sirens? Yes, in the deepest recesses of her mind, she did hear them.

Proving an unrecognized courage, Mort carefully took her arm. 'Please, Gaby. We have to go now.'

'Luther…' It was an odd thing for her to concern herself with a victim. That wasn't her job, never had been, and she didn't really know what to do about it.

'The sirens are coming for him, I'm sure of it. See his radio out there beside him? He'll be okay.'

Yeah, Mort was probably right. But first…

She covered her mouth and ran from the alley to hurl. A garbage can, already filled with vomit, likely from the drunk she'd passed, served as good a place as any.

Mort stood beside her, impatient but stoic. When her head cleared, he again took her arm. 'We have to get rid of these clothes. And you'll need to hide that knife somewhere just in case anyone saw you.'

'The knife stays with me.' Confused and sick, Gaby focused on him, 'Just what the hell are you doing?'

'Helping you.' He looked around to make sure no one noticed them, then started her on her way. 'It's okay, Gaby.'

Okay? How the hell could anything ever be okay? 'Yeah? I'd like to know why you think so.'

He put an arm around her, and a small smile appeared on his sallow face. 'Because I finally understand. That's why.'

Rubbery knees refused to support her. Churning acid continually tried to forge a path from her stomach out her mouth. She wanted to cry—but wouldn't.

'You should get away from me, Morty.'

'With those creepy things running around? Forget it. It's safer by you.'

He couldn't start thinking of her as his hero. 'You're dumber than I thought, Mort.'

'I know.'

She pierced him with her gaze, but he only looked around, worried and nervous. 'We should probably get going.'

The enervating effect of the kill waned, but she remained shaky and sick at her stomach. 'If you stick by me, and either of us is seen, you're fucked.'

'It'd be tough to explain, that's for sure.' He peered down a dark alley, then turned back toward her. 'Come on. If we go home this way, we're less likely to be seen by the cops.'

No one in his right mind traveled the area along the back alleys.

Not if he wanted to live.

'Fine.'

Together, they ventured along the rough brick wall to the very back of the narrow way, then traversed a low concrete wall. A skinny lane stretched along the backs of closed or empty businesses. This time of night, with only the muted drone of street noises out front and the occasional scratching of creatures that feasted off refuse, each footstep echoed a hollowed heartbeat.

More buildings, in worse decrepit shape, lurked behind the lane. Ahead of them, yellowed rats' eyes gleamed; druggies shot up; in the worst of the structures, homeless camped out.

It'd be easy to get cornered. It'd be easy for someone to hurt Mort.

If he was alone.

Determined to protect him, Gaby got herself together and took the lead. 'Try to be quiet.' Obsidian darkness swallowed the sight of doorways and blanketed all sound. Moonlight couldn't find its way between the tall block walls and shingled roofs.

They'd walked in silence for several minutes when Mort asked, his voice shivering, 'Do you think more of those things are out here?'

'No.' Broken glass crunched under her feet, nearly penetrating her flimsy soles. Something squishy found its way into the sandal and between her toes. With every nerve in her body drawn painfully taut, Gaby continued on. 'But there are worse things.'

'Worse than those freaks?'

Enraged beyond rational reason, she turned on Mort and slammed him into the nearest brick wall. 'They're people' she said from between her teeth. She choked on her impotence, the impossibility of the situation. 'Damaged, sick, broken by the foulest disease. But still humans who, if they weren't already tainted by a mangled past, would need our help.'

'All right, Gaby.'

The soft plea of his voice worked better than a sharp blow. She released him to rub the heels of her palms against her burning eye sockets. Salty tears would ease the pain. And make it worse. 'They're sick.'

Mort's hand touched her shoulder. 'I know, and I'm sorry.'

She shook her head and slapped away his hand. 'Christ, don't apologize to me when I'm the one attacking you!'

'You've been through a lot.'

So had he.

Because of her.

Unbearable. It was all becoming so unbearable.

She turned and started on her way again. But now that he'd touched her with his sympathy, she couldn't contain herself. So low that she could barely hear herself, she whispered, 'I've fought monsters, Mort.'

'I know.'

He had no idea. 'The problem now is that…' How to word it? 'I killed, and yet, it wasn't the monster I killed. There's a creature, a real fiend, creating these beings and somehow forcing them to act. Or…' As she recalled the first evil being, the way he'd looked at that child, the mingling of pain and lust in his eyes, her thoughts tried to sort it out. 'Maybe they're just being allowed to act. Maybe the pain of the sickness has distorted their brains, unleashing something they'd once buried.'

'I don't know what you mean, Gaby.'

She didn't want to stop again. Whether he comprehended or not, talking eased the conflagration of emotions.

And so she talked on. 'Some beings, some… afflictions, can bury their black ways. In the next life, they can't escape retribution, but for this world it helps them survive, to avoid arrest and conviction. No true corruption can ever be fully sequestered, so pain, sickness, can bring out those dormant propensities.'

'You think the people you… dealt with tonight, had hidden evil?'

'I know they did. So did that grisly specter that Luther found a few days ago.'

'Luther said the body was mangled.'

'Yeah.'

'That was you?'