He
wrestled him to the ground, and in one sharp move, he twisted the man’s head to the
side and broke his neck. The surreal crack that followed, the unorthodox angle of
his neck, the life draining out of him in seconds flat, caused another gallon of adrenaline
to dump down my spine. And his smell, like rotten eggs, assaulted my senses.
A wave of nausea swept over me. I glanced around, tried to steady myself and to see
who had witnessed Reyes break a man’s neck. The warehouse was almost empty now. A
few stragglers stood in the shadows, mostly the bouncers and a couple other workers,
their faces frozen in shock as they took in the dead guy.
Then Reyes was up. He grabbed my jacket and jerked me to attention. “What is it going
to take to get you to listen to me?”
The colossal adrenaline dump that had overloaded my system now needed a place to go.
With every ounce of strength I had, I pushed him off, rushed to the wall, and emptied
the contents of my stomach onto the concrete foundation.
It was weird. I’d never had that kind of reaction to being attacked. I was usually
much more composed. Or if not composed, vertical at least. But this time, I could
barely stand. The world spun around me as my stomach heaved violently. That would
explain the shaking and why I had an inexplicable compulsion to double over. But why?
Why now? Why this guy?
Reyes didn’t give me time to finish, to catch my breath. He grabbed the back of my
jacket again and dragged me toward the door. I thought about fighting him, but that
would take an energy I just didn’t seem to possess. I felt like a rag doll in his
grasp, my limbs hanging at my side, limp and useless. So I argued instead. I always
had the energy to argue.
I wiped my mouth on my sleeve, swallowing back another lurch of my stomach, and said
in a muffled voice, “Let me go.”
He didn’t. He continued to drag me across the floor like a used mop. I felt his manhandling
unnecessary and uncalled for, but fighting to keep bile down was taking all my mental
energy.
I managed a few words between a heave and a swallow. “What was that?”
I knew, of course, but it was just too unreal. Too horrible for me to fully absorb.
I had no idea humans could really be possessed. Figured it was just a movie device
to cause goose bumps and nightmares. Or something preachers said to keep their parishioners
in line.
But that man had been possessed, sure as I was standing there. Or, well, being dragged
across the floor there.
We were halfway to the door when Reyes whipped me around to face him, clutching my
shoulders in a death grip, his expression more angry than, say, understanding. So,
naturally, I got annoyed. I’d just barfed. Did he have no sense of decency? Sadly,
I could do nothing about it at the moment. I swallowed again and tried to push at
his arms.
“Get in that Jeep of yours and get out of here, or I swear by all that is holy—”
While I was totally into the conversation and had every intention of listening to
his seven thousandth threat, certain I’d take it to heart, I heard another crack.
It was quickly followed by a guttural moan. Then another crack. And another moan that
seemed more like the screech of a wounded owl.
I looked to my left, to where Reyes’s opponent lay dead. Only he wasn’t dead. He was
up on all fours, craning his neck from side to side as though popping it after a long
night’s sleep. Blackness swirled around him again as though the demon inside him had
a hard time staying within the confines of the physical body it inhabited.
Reyes jerked me forward until his face was inches from my own. “Leave.”
Then it leapt. Like a tiger in the tall grasses of India, the man launched himself
toward us. Toward me. Reyes pushed me down so hard, my head bounced, this time off
the cement foundation. But the stars that followed were upstaged by one thing. As
Reyes stepped protectively in
wrestled him to the ground, and in one sharp move, he twisted the man’s head to the
side and broke his neck. The surreal crack that followed, the unorthodox angle of
his neck, the life draining out of him in seconds flat, caused another gallon of adrenaline
to dump down my spine. And his smell, like rotten eggs, assaulted my senses.
A wave of nausea swept over me. I glanced around, tried to steady myself and to see
who had witnessed Reyes break a man’s neck. The warehouse was almost empty now. A
few stragglers stood in the shadows, mostly the bouncers and a couple other workers,
their faces frozen in shock as they took in the dead guy.
Then Reyes was up. He grabbed my jacket and jerked me to attention. “What is it going
to take to get you to listen to me?”
The colossal adrenaline dump that had overloaded my system now needed a place to go.
With every ounce of strength I had, I pushed him off, rushed to the wall, and emptied
the contents of my stomach onto the concrete foundation.
It was weird. I’d never had that kind of reaction to being attacked. I was usually
much more composed. Or if not composed, vertical at least. But this time, I could
barely stand. The world spun around me as my stomach heaved violently. That would
explain the shaking and why I had an inexplicable compulsion to double over. But why?
Why now? Why this guy?
Reyes didn’t give me time to finish, to catch my breath. He grabbed the back of my
jacket again and dragged me toward the door. I thought about fighting him, but that
would take an energy I just didn’t seem to possess. I felt like a rag doll in his
grasp, my limbs hanging at my side, limp and useless. So I argued instead. I always
had the energy to argue.
I wiped my mouth on my sleeve, swallowing back another lurch of my stomach, and said
in a muffled voice, “Let me go.”
He didn’t. He continued to drag me across the floor like a used mop. I felt his manhandling
unnecessary and uncalled for, but fighting to keep bile down was taking all my mental
energy.
I managed a few words between a heave and a swallow. “What was that?”
I knew, of course, but it was just too unreal. Too horrible for me to fully absorb.
I had no idea humans could really be possessed. Figured it was just a movie device
to cause goose bumps and nightmares. Or something preachers said to keep their parishioners
in line.
But that man had been possessed, sure as I was standing there. Or, well, being dragged
across the floor there.
We were halfway to the door when Reyes whipped me around to face him, clutching my
shoulders in a death grip, his expression more angry than, say, understanding. So,
naturally, I got annoyed. I’d just barfed. Did he have no sense of decency? Sadly,
I could do nothing about it at the moment. I swallowed again and tried to push at
his arms.
“Get in that Jeep of yours and get out of here, or I swear by all that is holy—”
While I was totally into the conversation and had every intention of listening to
his seven thousandth threat, certain I’d take it to heart, I heard another crack.
It was quickly followed by a guttural moan. Then another crack. And another moan that
seemed more like the screech of a wounded owl.
I looked to my left, to where Reyes’s opponent lay dead. Only he wasn’t dead. He was
up on all fours, craning his neck from side to side as though popping it after a long
night’s sleep. Blackness swirled around him again as though the demon inside him had
a hard time staying within the confines of the physical body it inhabited.
Reyes jerked me forward until his face was inches from my own. “Leave.”
Then it leapt. Like a tiger in the tall grasses of India, the man launched himself
toward us. Toward me. Reyes pushed me down so hard, my head bounced, this time off
the cement foundation. But the stars that followed were upstaged by one thing. As
Reyes stepped protectively in
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