Issue #4: Black Dog

The road was empty and the signs passed by like dreams in the night. His radio was dipping in and out; he was far from anywhere, in the middle of nowhere, and he was lucky to be able to find anything to keep him amused.

“--It’s nearing midnight in Deliverance, and we here at K666 are going to be leaving you to your regularly scheduled static in a few minutes time, but by popular request, we’ll be leaving you with this little ditty. Catch you on the airwaves peons, till next time.”

”I got to keep moving, I got to keep moving, blues falling down like hail, blues falling down like hail…”

He looked at his digital watch. 11.59 buzzed back at him. He looked up at the road, and leaned back in his seat. He guessed he’d have to drive all night to reach civilization. He enjoyed the desert roads and the curiosities that came along with it. He enjoyed the mythology of America. The road cleansed him of the city. He was a nomad in spirit, and he loved it. He was a real American.

“…Mmm, blues falling down like hail, blues falling down like hail and the day keeps on remindin' me, there's a hellhound on my trail…”

Danny’s grip tightened on the steering wheel. “Huh.” He looked down at his watch. 11.59 still. Weird. The hairs on the back of his neck began to prick up. He tapped along to the scratchy strumming of the guitar that echoed out into the night sky.

A wolf howled.

He grinned. Real American.

“…Hellhound on my trail, hellhound on my trail…”

He looked at his watch. 11.59. It had been 11.59 for two minutes now. His watch must have been broken. He didn’t know how, but he didn’t care. He’d check his phone when he pulled over next. Time could wait. Time always could. He shook his head and rolled his eyes.

Then the car began to make an inhuman noise.

The engine spluttered and coughed. It screamed for Danny to pull over and take the key out the ignition. It prayed for a stop to the pain. Danny acquiesced hurriedly. He grabbed a flashlight from the dash tray and clicked it on, opened the hood with a flick of a switch underneath the dash itself, then headed to the front of his convertible. Everything looked fine. He stuck the light in as far as it could go without it getting stuck and preventing him from surveying the damage. Nothing. How weird. He looked back from where he had just come from. Deliverance. The town was dark. Not a light on in sight. He sighed. “That’s about an hour walk. Two and back.”

He grabbed his duffel bag from the trunk, and began walking.

Danny Young never reached Deliverance.

They found the car, abandoned for no discernible reason.

It was like he had just pulled over and walked into the desert.

The sky was free from the hell hound song the next night.

He pumped the gas into her car, and looked up at her, his crooked grin as wide as they came. “Passing through?”

“No, I’m visiting my grandpa. You might know him, Lon Gardiner?”

The man’s eyes darkened. “I know of him.”

“Well, I’m Lucy Murphy. I grew up here.”

“Oh, tha’s interesting. Prodigal daughter returns and what not. I’m Travis Kent, but the people ‘round here call me… Well. Travis.” He chuckled. “When’d you leave?”

“Ten years back now, I think. My mom, she married my dad and, well, been in Keystone pretty much ever since. But my grandpa, he stuck around and it’s been so long… I just had this urge to come home.”

“Understandable, Ms Murphy. Well, you’re all done here, I don’t want to be keeping you.” He doffed his cap as she climbed back into her car.

She hesitated. “Do I know you?”

“Not yet,” he winked. She smiled tentatively, and as she pulled out, another car pulled in, and the garage owner smiled.

Lucy drove on. She was home now. It’d been eighteen long years, she’d lived, she’d loved, and now she was home. She drove through familiar streets, passed familiar store fronts, and headed to the north of the town, toward her grandpa’s home, just inside the limits.

“--It’s nearing midnight in Deliverance, and we here at K666 are going to be leaving you to your regularly scheduled static in a few minutes time, but by popular request, we’ll be leaving you with this little ditty. Catch you on the airwaves peons, till next time.”

“Can you turn that off, Sam? I mean, can’t we just talk for a while? I’m getting sick of pirate bloody radio…”

“I watched you change… Into a fly… I looked away… You were on fire…”

“Oh, honey, I love this song, ‘sides, after this, all we’ve got is dead air. Five minutes, ok? Five minutes, Danni, then I’m yours.”

“Fine.”

“What’s the time, beautiful?”

She glanced at her watch. “11.59.”

“Then by my calculations, we’ll be home before morning. I’m quite happy I pepped up on caffeine. That town sure does a mighty strong cup of java.”

“I watched a change… In you… It's like you never… Had wing and you feel… So alive … I've watched you change…”

“Woo.”

“This road trip was your idea, Danni! Don’t be ‘iwooing’ me!” He fell silent, and looked out at the road.

Danni tapped along to the song. “I didn’t like that gas station guy.”

“Him and his stories. Yeah, God love those loons. I mean, what was he on? Mothmen?”

“Man. Singular. Mothman.”

“Is that anything like a Batman? Because Grant over in Gotham was telling me how he actually saw Batman.”

“Batman’s not real.”

“Batman was on TV! Didn’t you see his speech when he hijacked the airwaves? That was immense. I love that guy.”

“Whatever, he’s still not real. That was just a morale tool used by the President.”

“Right, right…” He turned back to the road, and then grit his teeth as the engine began to shriek. “Oh, Jesus, oh, Jesus, okay, pulling over, pulling over and we’ve pulled over and we’re okay…”

“Calm down, Dan.” Danni laughed. She climbed out of the car, quickly followed by Sam, and they opened the hood. “Well. I can’t see anything wrong with the thing… But then again I’m not a big burly man-man like you are. What do you think, Sam?”

“I have no idea. My dad was the mechanic, not me. What do you say we head back into town? It won’t take us too long. What’s the time now?”

“11.59. That’s weird. My watch has stopped.”

“Well let’s get--” Sam paused. He looked around. “Did you hear that?”

“What?”

“That fluttering? Like wings?”

“Don’t you dare, Sam. Not after that Mothmen crap.”

“Mothman! And I’m not joking, I hear like--” An inhuman shape swooped down and knocked Sam over, and Danni shrieked. “Danni, get back in the car, get back--” The mass engulfed Sam, and he screamed as talons dug into his chest, blood dribbling down his torso. “Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhh[/b]!”

The creature was bigger than a man, its body was covered in scales and its eyes, red and as big as fists, glowed in the night sky. Its mouth, full of rows upon rows of fangs, dribbled saliva down on Sam’s face, and as he fought to get the thing off him, he didn’t notice the footsteps behind him.

A red and black beam of shining light illuminated the duo, and the creature screamed, like glass shattering, as it jerked back off of Sam. “Get away from him.” The creature looked at the source of the light, and leaped for the wielder, but before it could even reach it, another beam struck it straight in the chest, and it evaporated from existence.

The wielder of the light went over to Sam, and placed a hand over his bleeding chest. “These wounds aren’t real. That thing that attacked you: Not real. You can think past it, with a little help.” He took a circular disk from his spare hand and placed it on the man’s wounds. “My help. Remember. Remember a time when you weren’t hurt. Remember 11.58.” The black and red light formed together, and beamed up into the sky, and Sam gasped as his wounds healed. “Good boy.”

“What was that thing?” Danni clambered out of the car, her hands shaking, tears streaming down her face, and looked at the man. “Who are you? What’s that thing you’re holding? I saw Sam, he was, he was…”

“Your car works. Drive. Get the hell out of this town.” The man stood tall as the couple climbed back into the car and screamed into the distance. He dusted of his brown trenchcoat, and then froze. “I know you’re there. I can hear you. You won’t have me yet though, will you? It’s not today. But soon.” He looked behind himself. “Soon.”

Lucy loved Deliverance. Nothing had changed, the people were the same, the stores, the parks, everything. It was a weird little Eden in her chaotic world, and she was happy to be back. It wasn’t the city, there wasn’t that hustle and bustle of activity around her.

She grinned. She was really happy. “Whoa!” she bumped into someone whose attention was elsewhere, their hands holding a small book. “Whoa, sorry.”

“Oh, don’t apologize, it was my mistake,” he closed his book and looked at her for a second time. “Hello! You’re Lon’s grandchild, aren’t you?”

It was ‘Jimmy Grant’, still looking as handsome as the last time she saw him a few hours ago. “Yes! Yes, I am. You know, we were never formally introduced. I’m Lucy.” She put out her hand, and smiled.

He took it. “Richard.”

“I have a question, something that’s really been bugging me… My grandpa, he said, well, that you were an ‘old friend’ and, well, ha, you aren’t at all old, are you, Richard? You can’t be older than 30, for sure…”

He laughed. “I’m older than I look, but come on, age is completely subjective. You’re as old as you feel. Right now, I feel fantastic, and really, that’s what matters, isn’t it?”

She smiled. “I guess. Where you headed?”

“Uh.” He suddenly span around, looked behind himself, like someone had put a hand on his shoulder. “Sorry, thought I… Heard… Nevermind.” His darkened features suddenly lit up. “I was going to grab a drink. Need to gather my thoughts. Would you like to join me?”

Lucy looked at him, confused, but then smiled. What a strange, strange man. “Sure.”

“What’s going on, Richard?” He looked around when they hit the cold air of the street. “What was going on with that radio?”

“Batteries.”

She was not in the mood for jokes right now. Her little paradise, her calm among the storm that was the world, was slowly crumbling away at the edges, revealing something dark and dirty, and she didn’t like it one bit. “Don’t joke, what the hell is happening here?”

He turned and looked at her. “Something is going on here. You can feel it in your gut, right? That feeling of unrest? That feeling of something not quite right? That’s because something is happening here that’s unnatural. This place is haunted.”

“You aren’t… You aren’t joking…”

“No. I’m not. Come here.” He held out his hand, and without thinking, she took it. “Stay close.” He pulled a circular disk from his trenchcoat pocket, and mumbled something to himself.

“What did you sa--”Lucy nearly stumbled back as red and black light swarmed around her like bees, and then just as soon as it had begun, she was standing next to her car, on the drive that lead to her grandpa’s house. “My… God…”

“No. Not God. Come on.” Richard darted up the drive, and then suddenly gun shots shattered the silence of the town. “LON!” He kicked the door down, rushed inside the house, and saw a dark figure looming over his old friend, his hand glistening blood red in the darkness, each finger ending in a clawed talon. Richard threw up his sigil, focused all his magical power, and cannon fire of energy dissipated the attacker. Lon was holding a revolver, still smoking. “Lon, are you alright?”

Lucy pushed past Richard and embraced her grandpa. “Gran’pa, oh, God, gran’pa…”

“It’s ok, Lucy, it’s ok.” He hugged her, dropping the gun into Richard’s hand. “I’m fine.”

Richard opened up the barrel of the gun and smiled. “Silver bullets. You haven’t lost your edge, Lon.”

“Fat lot of good it did me, Richard…” He pulled himself up, and Lucy supported him. “Those would have stopped a real apparition in its tracks.”

Lucy punched Richard in the arm, and grabbed her grandpa’s shoulder. She was so confused. So angry. “What the Hell is going on?”

Richard looked at his old friend. “Lon?”

“Lucy… I’m a hunter. I told you that. But what I hunted… It wasn’t deer. I hunted ghosts. Demons. Monsters.”

“So when Richard said this town was haunted… He wasn’t joking?”

Richard smiled. “No. I wasn’t.”

Lon sighed. “My scrying didn’t come up with anything, and when Richard appeared on my door… I had no idea what’s going on. Still don’t. Do you?”

Richard removed his hat and coat, and sat on the seat nearest the fire. “Something is in Deliverance, and it’s been killing drifters. Students. The people who pass by. That something, I’ve been able to figure out, focuses itself on the old Route 666 outside of town. Reality shifts, and it’s been localized, but right now… Whatever it is that’s doing this… Must know that we’re on it’s tail. And it wanted to stop me.”

“Do you know what it is?”

Richard and Lon looked at each other. “No, bunny.”

“I need to think. Has anything been… Out of the ordinary recently? Any blue moons or ghost swarms?”

“I think I’d remember ghost swarms, Richard.”

“What about Travis?” Lucy asked suddenly.

Lon looked up. “Who?”

“Travis Kent, the old gas station guy? I don’t remember him… And I think I would. When I saw him… There was something off about everything. I don’t know.” She shrugged, trying to explain, wanting to be helpful. It made her feel better, but Richard just stared off into the distance, his fingers latticed, thinking.

He jerked upwards suddenly, realization hitting him like a slap to the face. “The drifters, they’d have to get gas, right? Lon, who the hell is this Kent character?”

“Who?”

Richard grit his teeth. “Right, exactly, you stay here, I’m going to end this.”

Lucy put up her hand. “Not without--”

Richard put up his hand. “No. No way in Hell are you coming with me. This is dangerous and I’ll be back as soon as I have a nice talk with Mr. Kent. Stay. Here.” He pulled out his Symbol of Seven and muttered another few words, and with that he was gone.

“Who the hell is that, grandpa?”

Lon picked up his six-shooter, and reloaded it. “Richard Occult. He’s an a-grade magician. If he says he’s going to do something, he’ll do it. So we sit here and we wait.”

“But--”

“Nooo… We wait, Lucy.”

“Fine.” Lucy sat down on the sofa and leant back. “This whole thing is mad.”

“This whole thing is life, Lucy. Do you want a cup of tea?”

“What does this mean then?” Lucy was sitting on the sofa, a blanket over her shoulders. Richard had repaired the damage done to the house after healing himself with an incantation in a language that sounded strangely like French, and was now sitting opposite her. “About me?”

“What does it mean? You’ve lived your life without knowing about your heritage and you’ve lived a long good life. Tricksters… They’re raised by their own. Raised to be nasty, evil things. You were raised by good people. Nature vs nurture, and nurture wins. You don’t have some innate evil inside you. That kind of evil, like that thing had? That was created by others.” Richard sipped his tea. “If you look at myth, in Native American folklore, the Coyote was viewed as the Creator. As a force of good.” He rubbed his chin. “Reminds me of the old adage: ‘Coyote takes water from the Frog people...’”

“ ‘…Because it is not right that one people have all the water.’” Lucy sighed. “I know.” She steeled herself. “Right. So, my mom, she…?”

“Who knows? There’s never been a record of other cases of this, has there? You’re one of a kind.” He smiled. “Unique and special.”

“Thank god you were here, though. We could have died. How did you pick up the scent of this thing, or whatever?”

Richard stood up, and picked up his coat. “I didn’t.”

Lon entered the room, and his brow furrowed. “You didn’t?”

“I heard rumblings of… Hell hounds. Monsters roaming the deserts. And I thought that a hole into hell had opened up. I was wrong. It was all the Trickster’s work.”

“So you were looking for a hole into Hell? Why?”

There was a long, lingering silence in the air, before Richard spoke again. He was quiet. It was nearly a whisper. “…To get my wife back.”

“Rose? I thought she was dead? She’s… What happened?”

Richard placed his hat on his head. Lucy could see the glint of loss in his eye, but didn’t say anything. “She was stolen from me. I was… arrogant, and it cost me her. She was stolen from me by a demon. And now she’s in Hell, and I’m going to get her back. I need a way in, and Deliverance was going to be it. But as it stands, no, I’m still without my way in.” He sighed. “I have to go.”

“Good luck, Richard.” Lon put out his hand. “And thank you.”

“Don’t thank me. It was nothing.” He turned to Lucy. “He saved my life once, this man. You’re a very lucky granddaughter.”

Lucy nodded in agreement, and her smile it up the room. “I know.”