Highway to Hell Page 6

  I crunch my way over to the bar and push open the little half door and grab one of the unbroken bottles of whiskey and down a mouthful of courage for the nerves. It burns like I imagine I will when the Hounds catch me. But the liquid courage relaxes my limbs enough to know I’ve made my decision and I’m sticking to it.

  "What's up, boss?" Fae begins unwinding her own barbed whip. We all have one, perks of the job. It seems more sinister now I might be on the receiving end of its sting.

  "Put that away. This isn't Zeke.”

  Lowell has managed to stand and is leaning on Marty. The two locals are creeping to the side door and Leo steps after them.

  "No, let them go. The less involved in this mess, the better.”

  The men scramble and trip over one another. Get gone and stay gone is how I feel about their scrawny washed up asses.

  "Catriona.” Lowell's voice is steady. Damn, but the man's got some excellent shock absorbers if he's with it already. “What is going on? How are you here? Does Zeke know you're…you're here? What mark are you talking about and where are you supposed to be taking me?"

  "Lowell, I can't explain everything right now, but we need to get you out of here.” I figure he is going to demand explanations, but now I’ve hit ignore, rejecting Damien and all he stands for that I was part of, I figure it’s time to make a move and do it quickly, before Damien and company show up to tell me exactly how they feel about being back-burnered in this business.

  "Why?"

  "You aren't safe here.”

  My crew busts out with the protests. Took them long enough. They overheard the convo, but remained quiet, absorbing the fact not only have I reneged on my deal, but by association, theirs as well. I have no intention of holding them to this, but right now, I don’t have time to deal with the bureaucratic bullshit that comes with being a leader. I’ll cut them lose later, but right now, it’s time to ride.

  "Enough!" I hold up my hand and they all fall silent.

  Fae crosses her arms over her chest and taps her foot. Tabby snaps her gum and Leo leans back against the jukebox. Tora looks at the side door where the townies vacated. Wistful looks good on her.

  “Lowell, was Zeke supposed to be here today?"

  "He stops in sometimes and I usually kick him out for dealing, but…" He scratches his sandy hair and gazes around the trashed bar.

  "But what?"

  "I promised Gigi I'd look after him and let him stop out here at the bar every now and then. It's how I check up on him. He never could resist a beer on the house.”

  I rub my chest when he mentions Gigi. Lowell and Zeke's grandmother was one of the nicest people I ever met. Zeke brought me to visit her a year before she passed and I saw a rare side of Zeke that made me believe he was a man worth loving. I was so wrong, but Gigi never gave up hope. There's a box of cards from every holiday on the Christian calendar under his bed and a few handwritten notes of "just because,” a testament to that fact. After the year passed and Gigi with it, the box began to collect dust and any sense of Zeke's moral code along with it.

  Lowell rubs the back of his head and winces. His hand comes away smeared with blood. He'd been more injured than I realized.

  "Come on.” I take a few steps toward Lowell and grab him under his arm. It has been a long time since I've felt the heat of humanity brush up against me. All my other marks were sans theirs. Heaven always stakes their claim on the good ones. The humanity is a warm feeling, like a hug. Like Gigi's hugs. I may have been the cause of the downfall of one of her grandsons, but I'll be damned if I'm not going to save Lowell for her now. I feel like somehow, I owe her.

  My crew follows behind me and I hear Marty start to bitch, until Tabby links her arm with his. I don't glance back. Tabby has some unusual proclivities, but whatever, I'm not one to judge. We make our way back outside and I look down the highway. Storm clouds move black and swift from the direction of the Nevada desert. The rumble of thunder blends with the cadence of carburetors.

  "Get on.” I glance at Lowell and then I swing my leg over Sugar. I hear the girls rev their engines as I reach for the key near the top of the tank. I see Fae glare at Marty, who looks like one of those gray and white-bearded collies sitting in her sidecar. If he sticks his tongue out the side, I might tell Tabby to throw him a bone and give him a treat. She'd like that. He hadn’t even asked permission to tag along with our crew. He just climbed in, no questions asked.

  I feel the weight of Lowell settle behind me. He gazes at the clouds and squints.

  "Those aren't normal clouds.”

  "No. They're Hounds.” There's no time to argue with Lowell about leaving Marty behind. He's coming with us, whether we like it or not.

  "Who?"

  "Hellhounds. They're coming after you. And now me.” I turn the key on my bike and it howls to life.

  "Why you?"

  That’s a good question. What had I ever done except exist when I was a human? Why me? Well, maybe because my defining moment taught me even though all I did was exist, I hadn’t really done anything wrong and sell drugs alongside Zeke, I hadn’t done anything to stop him. Maybe by saving Lowell, I am saying I am saving the soul of a person who never bought from Zeke and ended up six-feet under with the memory of a needle sticking out of their arm.

  "Because I'm going to protect you until we can get the mark on your soul removed.”

  "How are we going to get away from them?"

  Lowell's arms slip around my waist and I flip up the kickstand and pull out onto the highway. I glance over my shoulder and see five black dots emerge from the tail end of lightning bolts from the storm striking the highway. For sure, Damien likes to make a flashy entrance.

  Just before I shift and open up the throttle to pick up speed I shout, "We'll figure out how to remove the mark later. First, we're going to run like Hell, from Hell."

  5

  We ride the highway northeast for hours until we hit Route 191. The grit from the road is stuck in the corners of my eyes and it stings. When they start to water, I decide to turn southwest to head in the direction of the borders of Utah, New Mexico, Arizona, and Colorado. I hold my hand out low and to the left so the Hellcats know to turn with me. We drive to the Colorado Plateau; it's risky rolling up on the four corners since the chance of meeting a crossroad demon is high, but I've started to form a plan. It's the mother of all stupid plans, but it just might work.

  We're at a slight advantage with our head start and the Hounds would have stopped at the Sloshed Sloth to check out the situation, so I think we might be leading by half an hour. Maybe.

  When we drive up on the tourist site to the meeting point, I pull my bike in and park and let my girls ride up in a semi-circle where we can face one another and hash it all out. I cut my engine and lean forward on my handlebars. I feel Lowell behind me slowly start to stretch and I swing my leg over Sugar, giving him a chance to get off and move around. He walks in a circle to my right and winces from the stiffness in his limbs. The old man, Marty, swings his leg over the sidecar and pulls the same gimp along routine, while I swing my leg back over my baby and lean forward again, checking my phone for any missed calls. There are none except the one missed from Damien. I guess that chance was all I got. Damn, where is Auntie J? I shut my phone and glance around.

  There are tourist signs everywhere at the four states' corners, because no one has seen four right angles meet, but whatever. It's mostly annoying because the tourists, who are milling about, all stop to stare at us. There’s a huge sign indicating exactly where the state’s four corners meet. There are park benches surrounding the area with a number of tourists toting unimpressed looking teenagers and squawking toddlers who would rather be in hotel pools because of the heat. Posts with built-in cubbies hold brochures which I’m sure discuss how unusual the converging state lines are; stand next to each of the benches surrounding the courtyard. Gray slabs of stone decorate the courtyard and are embedded into the stone to mark which state is which and where the fo
ur corners meet. A sandstone rock wall curls around the courtyard and red viewing benches. Rocking a ponytail, a woman wearing black yoga pants and a blue t-shirt props herself on her hands and knees on the monument of stone slabs meeting in the corner. Her prone position makes her look like she’s bent over waiting for Arizona to come up behind her so does she actually have the audacity to look at us with such incredulity? The tourists around her have the same looks on their faces, like we are the freaks and her bent over on hands and knees presenting herself head down, ass-up is nothing to be shaking my head at.

  I snort. They better hope they aren't here when Damien shows up because when he figures out my plan, he's going to be ripping mad. He also might contort yoga-lady into a more twisted position if she gives him the haughty look she’s casting us.

  I turn my attention back to my girls. The tourists can bite me. We're going to bounce in five anyway, so they're not high on my list of priorities. It just bugs me, as much as I try not to judge, even with my temper and attitude, people are going to look at me and my lot and assume the worst.

  "Trina, what the Hell?" Faline’s anger quivers across her face in her twitching lips and the vein above her eyes.

  I don't blame her. "Look, I have a plan.” I hold up my hands. “We’re going to split here and now. Each ride off in a different direction. You can all find a hotspot and check in with Auntie J. Let her know what's up, alright?" I’m not going to hold them to this. It isn’t their snap decision. They’ve got their own deals with Satan to consider.

  "Damn it, Trina. Are you insane? We can't split.” Fae rarely swears at me, and when she does, Tabby pops her gum and laughs.

  I grin at her. "Well, yeah. I wouldn't be sitting here if I did the sane thing, would I?" Fae rolls her eyes and I get down to the heavy. “Hey, I get it. You're all trying to atone. None of us really want to be stuck down in the pit forever. Which is why I'm shouldering this one. Go back to Auntie J.”

  Faline looks like she is ready to ride off and not look back. She wants to do her time and that's it. Tabby is looking at one of her bejeweled fingernails, which is chipped. She pulls a file out of her pocket and looks bored. Leo’s got my back since almost the beginning when I was first put in charge of the newly formed gang. We learned our way together, got a feel for the bumps in the road. Tabby might follow Faline, if she gets to keep her kink Marty, riding shotgun in the sidecar, but Leo deadpans me with her glare and I know she's in it for the long haul.

  "We aren't splitting, Trina.” She lights a cigarette and glares at a couple of teenage boys who look like they're ready to pop the "Hey, what's ups?"

  Tora leans around her on the bike and watches us all.

  "We don't have time to argue. We need to split to throw them off for a while until I can figure out how to unmark Lowell. Then we'll hook back up. This way they'll divvy up and then we're looking at one on ones with the Hounds instead of taking on the whole damn gang.”

  Tabby pops her gum again and shrugs, which makes Fae flinch. “I’m game. Could be fun.”

  "What about sacred ground?"

  It's the first time Lowell has offered any contribution to the conversation and everyone stops and looks at him; even Marty who is tapping on the sidecar, much to Fae's annoyance. It looks like he's trying to figure the custom job and the flames, but he's in for a surprise if he bugs Fae to the point of making the shit go live. His dried-up withered carcass would light up faster than the pine needles on an old Christmas tree.

  I turn my head and stare at Lowell. He's standing with the sun to his back and his profile is so like Zeke's, it takes my breath away for a moment. I feel the lump in my throat and swallow hard. I didn't think it was going to hurt this much. I sigh and shake my head, stuffing the can of worms into the back of my head. Twins or not, Lowell isn’t his brother, and it won’t do me any good to wish it different. Part of me wonders if I had the opportunity to save Zeke, if it might mean I could forgive myself for my own sins. It would be setting down that burden I’ve been carrying around. I think about his question for a minute before answering.

  "Sacred ground is irrelevant. There are no rules I know of saying we can't go on it.”

  "We?" He looks puzzled.

  "Demons.” I sit up and look him dead in the face, letting the fire in my eyes flicker for a moment. I watch as his whole body goes rigid and his muscles tense like he is going to run. I might as well air out my dirty little secrets now. At least it will give me the mental check I need not to confuse him with his brother when he looks at me in horror.

  "You're…you're…"

  "We've already established demons are as dead as Dante. You're just going to have to get over it quick if we want to make it out of here without being captured.” I glance over my shoulder at the open road, expecting to see storm clouds rolling in on the horizon, but the blistering heat of Arizona's sun continues to beat down on my back.

  "This can't be real.” He puts his hands over his head and I try to think what to say to him. I’d had a few weeks. He has only a few minutes, not fair on the Richter Scale of mind-boggling, world-altering news, but life's full of the tough stuff. He's just going to have to grow a thick skin.

  "Well, it is sugar!" Tabby pops a bubble at him. She might not put so much glee into the proclamation. She's making us look bad.

  "Knock it off, Tabby!" Everyone pauses, but ignores Fae when she snaps. Fae gets off her bike and walks near the waist-high rock wall. I consider having the big heart to heart with her, but she has to sort herself out the way she does.

  Lowell looks between Tabby and me. “How though?"

  "It's simple. We all died, went to Purgatory, were given a second chance to make it into Heaven, and the perks of the position come with a shapeshifting corporeal body in this realm and down below as long as we gather the marks. Now here we are.” I don’t give the run-down on the religious rhetoric. I’ve had my days of people hollering they don’t believe in Hell. I wouldn’t say I’m a Christian or I connect with any other major religions, but it doesn’t mean they aren’t real. Or the Underworlds are associated with them. Raised by Christian foster parents, I still relate as an Omnist. I find truth in all religions now I’m dead.

  "Heaven and Hell are real?" It's not the first time the question has been posed and it won't be the last. It's one thing to have devout faith as a human. It's a whole new ballgame to have solid proof sitting here in front of him. I feel for his shock since I was just as mind blown when I died and found out it was all true. I give him and Marty a chance to digest the demons are real data.

  Marty walks over to Lowell and leans in to whisper something to him I pretend not to hear. Leo ruins whatever plan they're cooking up to make a break for it when she rolls her eyes.

  “Please, Papi. If you thought you stood a chance of running, you would have done it back at the bar.” Not that he would have gotten far with a titanium hip, but I say nothing on account of it would be considered rude in polite circles. We aren't very polite most of the time though.

  Marty jumps and Lowell takes a step toward Leo. “You do anything to him and I'll- "

  "Alright, enough.” Leo looks like she's ready to pounce so I get back off my bike and walk to the center, putting space between the two. “We’ve only got a few minutes to decide. Holy ground is out. Even if we do make it there and a rule is in place, like some weird Dracula mojo, we wouldn't be able to get on the premises either.” I look at my girls, hoping one of them is batting a thousand in the what-do-we-do-from-here department.

  "I know someone who studies theology at the University of Utah. He's a good friend. He might know how we could get the mark off.”

  I turn back around to Lowell. He looks confused, like he can't believe he has just offered up one of his friends to help battle the supernatural, but he's on to something and it will be good to have him focus.

  "Not a bad idea,” I nod. I smile at him, loathing the fact I already have a tentative end-game strategy in the works.

  "Theology
?" Tabby crinkles her nose.

  I close my eyes and rub my temples. I should have known a gang of demons wouldn't be up to snuff on religious rhetoric. I received my limited knowledge courtesy of the foster home I’d been in most of my teenage years when Mum was hitting the bottle. The Anderson's were ok people, but sticklers for calling me out on my collective sins.

  “It’s the study of religious beliefs.”

  She shrugs again and goes back to watching Marty like he's her new favorite play toy and he just doesn't know it yet. She always did have a thing for older Sugar Daddies in her human days as a prostitute.

  "I think that might be our best shot.” I look at Lowell. “You and I will head there and--"

  "I'm coming with," Leo speaks up as I start shaking my head. Lowell is already knee-deep, no sense dragging everyone down with me. “We're with you.” She glares at Fae and Tabby. Tora leans forward.

  "I'm coming too!" She really needs to stop raising her hand.

  "No. You're the newbie and don't know the full extent of the consequences. Fae, if you still want to go back, it won't be held against you.”

  Tora slowly lowers her hand.

  "Speak for yourself--" Leo starts to get off her bike, but I take a step near her.

  "Leo, would you stow it for a sec?" I glare at her.

  "Fae, I get it. If you want to go back, take Tora. I just ask you find Auntie J and tell her to call, OK?"

  Faline looks at her handlebars and then traces her finger along the Harley Davidson logo on the gas tank. “Eternity is going to suck, but you chose me and I owe you. You gave me freedom. At least for a little while.” She looks back at her handlebars and twists them, looking miserable but resigned. She'll pull through this. As a trial pharmaceutical test clinician in her human days, she developed a thick skin with the patients who weren't happy with the results. It has been a chore since she joined us a few months ago, keeping her from bumping into some of her patients who were terminal, but this isn't her first rodeo into the realm of questionable choices.