Jennie Janes the Pistol Toting, Wheelchair Rolling, Licensed Demon Hunter Takes on the Demons in Preacher Bob's Room of Repentance
By Stephen Crane Davidson
Boom, the man's eyes opened wide. With a bald head shaped like a light bulb stranded on top of a small framed body of medium height, he distinguished himself only with his long, thin fingers. "May I come in?" he said.
I waved the gun. "Sure. Be my guest."
"You Jennie?" he said and took a seat.
"Yeah. What can I do for you?"
"Need a demon hunter. Precious Hardy referred me.”
Precious dealt in pleasure. I'd done a demon removal job for her a year ago. "Customer of hers?" I said.
"Brother."
"Oh ... nice lady. So what's the problem?"
He rubbed at his chin. "You'll swear to complete confidentiality for my employer?"
I scowled at that. An eight-foot demon target slunk from the wall. I shot it through the chest. My customer didn't even jerk at the sound. Interesting. Not your usual pencil-neck geek type.
"I can," I finally said. "But I still got to go to city hall for a Demon Infestation Removal Permit #403-5 and anybody who wanted could go find out where I'd be working."
He shook his head. "No do. Nobody can know. Don't get a permit if that's the case."
"I’d lose my license if I went out killing demons without a permit. You can't pay me enough to do that."
He shrugged. "Don't kill them. Just get rid of them."
"That's harder than you think. One mistake and I get ripped from limb to limb. You're talking big money.”
He pulled out a roll of bills. "Five hundred to come look. Five thousand to give it a try whether it works or not. Ten if it works and all expenses either way."
I took the money, made arrangements to meet him later that night, and then watching him leave decided he had a nice, male way of walking. Not that it mattered, business is business. At seven, I rolled my wheelchair out of our office/house and onto my Harley's cart. Revving the cycle loud to combat the grey in the sky, I headed off to a drive-thru and then down to the warehouse district.
Didn't look a typical location for a demon infestation. The grotesque creatures are drawn by torture, evil, pain, but not by warehouses full of crates of white socks. At about ten to eight, I parked the hog and wheeled myself to the door. The sun had set, leaving the parking area in the partial darkness of security lights. I tried the door knob, found it open and wheeled myself inside a large room in the middle of which Vegan Hardy, dressed in a tank top and white pants, whirled and kicked in a vicious practice dance of destruction. I closed the door and watched. That slender frame turned out to be wiry and hard. Finally, he went to a chair and wiped his face with a towel before putting on a dark cotton jacket. He nodded toward me.
"Early," he said and grinned. "Come on back and I'll show you where the problem is," he said.
Checking the recesses in the arms of my chair to make sure the .45 and the laser pointer were there, I followed Vegan through a television studio with a pulpit in the front. We went around the long, red velvet curtains behind the pulpit to another room furnished only with a small cross hung above a couple of kneeling pads. Puzzled, I stopped, scratched at my head and looked around again. Religious areas are even less likely than warehouses to be infested. The beasts need a lot of evil to pull them from whatever dimension they make their home. Vegan led me through another door to one last room. This one felt weird. I opened the arm on my chair for easy access to the laser before going inside. A king sized, four-poster bed filled most of the room's area.
"This is where they've been seen," Vegan said.
I went round the room but could find nothing of interest. "How many times you seen them here?" I asked.
"Pretty often, though just visual images, none of the demons have actually made it to physical form."
"Hmm. What's this room used for?" I took another look at the bed. Seemed large for taking naps between shows.
Vegan rubbed his chin. "Come on. I'll show you."
I followed him to a small, hidden control room. He punched buttons and pointed to one of the monitors. What I saw would not have made it at a theater, not that the woman with her three layers of pancake make-up and big hair wouldn't have been attractive to somebody. But the man and the big surprise--his fat belly hanging out for all to see--was Preacher Bob of Net fame, him of family values, work hard for your nickel, send it in and you'll see your reward later and funniest of all, the man who was the retailer of Preacher Bob's Guaranteed Demon Preventing Blessed Holy Sticks. According to the Preacher, the demons wouldn't have ever shown up except for the exceptional level of the world's moral turpitude and other sins of the flesh. No wonder he demanded confidentiality. Right now on the screen, he nibbled on the woman's ear.
"Why it's Preacher Bob saving another soul," I said and chuckled.
Vegan shook his head. "Not saving a soul. We videotape his sessions. He tells them all a disclaimer. I think he has it written on the back of his hand so he'll remember it."
"You’re kidding," I said.
"Naw. His lawyer designed it so nobody'd sue him for using his "office," whatever that is, for immoral purposes, and that's why we record 'em all but watch this."
A segment of the screen enlarged. In the center stood six vague images. Vegan's fingers danced over the keys and new still shots appeared. My breath raced as each time the monstrous demons became clearer, finally ending with six huge, vaguely human shaped, male demons.
"That's the last one," Vegan said. "I pointed it out to the Preacher and his face turned the color of snow on a screen. He wants them gone."
I made myself relax and studied the screen. "They do look like they're ready to make it from visual-only to material form. Six of 'em, too! When was this shot?"
"Last week."
"Seen any since?"
"Naw, but the Preacher's been staying away except for the shoots and they're in the studio."
"Fine, then just leave the demons in the back room and let him go somewhere else for his fun," I said.
"He won't. These woman travel from all over to be his guest at the shoot. It's after he has them all worked up watching the show that he introduces them to the back door."
"Move the studio."
Vegan frowned. "Cost a fortune. Besides this is a good location. Nobody would ever find it."
I scratched at my head. "Six demons is a lot."
"Ten thousand for trying," Vegan said.
Dang him. I'd just gotten the rent bill, too. "Okay, but first we'll need the demons to reappear. Think the preacher'd come back and give the room another try?"
"Not a chance. He wouldn't go back there for a free trip to the Vegas Holy Lands." Vegan grinned and twitched his eyebrows. "How about a volunteer?"
That startled me. Was he flirting? I tossed the idea. In a wheelchair, most men don't think of me as a woman even though it’s my legs that don't work, not the rest of me.
"Right," I said. "Given your boss' need for secrecy, you go to the building owner and get everything you can about the previous owners. Demons don't just pop up because of a little tortfree ear nibbling. There must be some other history. I'll look through the city and court records."
"Will do," Vegan said and smiled.
I studied him a minute. "Come over tomorrow night about seven and I'll call in for some pizza. You might have something I need."
"Hope so," he said. “Shall I bring the drinks?"
He still had that grin on his face. "Yeah," I said.
He followed me to the door and complimented me on the Harley. I drove home feeling good. Not only had the business been slack lately but so had my personal life.
By the next night, I had learned little of use from the court records. When Vegan got there, I led him into the living room behind my office. He'd dressed in another dark jacket, though this time he had on sweat pants instead of jeans. I like sweat pants on a man.
Vegan sat down and laid a bunch of papers on the table while I pulled the recently delivered pizza from the stove. I brought it back in and braked my chair to a sudden stop. What looked like a mouse had scurried across the floor in front of me. "What the-- "
"A present," Vegan said.
"A mouse?" I said and gaped at him.
"No," he said laughing. "A robot. On the side, I do the video work for a company that makes them. Even makes one that climbs up buildings under construction, checks the welds and spot welds bad spots."
"Oh," I said and watched the thing with its erect tail held high slip under the skirt of the arm chair.
"Won't do much," Vegan said. "But, it'll suck up little pieces of trash on the floor. Think of it as your automated vacuum cleaner."
I'm not the best house cleaner. Always thought if it was there, it belonged there. I shook my head.
"Uh, thanks, Vegan."
He gave me that smile again. "Didn't really find anything from looking at the owners. But I called a couple of them, and I think I got something interesting."
I rolled my chair closer until my leg just brushed against his, leaned over and looked at the papers. Under the pile was a newspaper and he pulled that out from the pile. The headline read: "Serial Killer Found."
"Turns out," he said and handed me the paper, "that the killer used the back room of the warehouse to stash his victims. The guy was a whacko. Lived in a mansion north of here. Deserted now. Nobody wants to live there. He killed most of his victims up there, not at the warehouse."
I bit down on a piece of pizza and then had to wipe the cheese off my chin. "That could explain why the demons haven't manifested physically at the Preacher's place. They followed the killer from the house to the warehouse but were never at the warehouse long enough to take material form. It takes them a long time to be able to go from being visible to being actually physically present."
I scratched at my head again. "You know where this house in the mountains is?" I said.
Vegan nodded.
"Pack up the pizza then. Let's go."
He frowned and looked disappointed. "Tonight?"
"You wanted the demons gone without anybody knowing who did the hiring. Well, this is the big chance. But listen," I said. "You don't have to go. This is my job and-- "
"Wouldn't miss it, Ms. Jennie," he said interrupting as he gathered the pizza.
Soon enough we were eating pizza as Vegan drove his pickup. My wheelchair sat in the truck bed. He'd asked, and I'd let him help me up into the cab. Not that I couldn't have gotten there myself, but.... As I'd thought, he had strong arms and a good grip to his fingers.
We drove right past the place on the first pass. Instead of a mansion, we finally found a large ranch-style house. A wide expanse of grass scattered with scrub bushes surrounded the building. With no other houses near and only a single street light, the darkness of the sky plunged into opaque shadows near the ground.
Vegan drove up the driveway and came around to help me into the chair. When he picked me up, he held me close for a moment. I resisted the urge to move my hands to his face and touch. With the possibility of demons around, it was no time to get those kind of feelings stirring.
I had Vegan push the chair and carry the flashlight while I held the laser pointer in one hand and the .45 in the other. Without a permit, I didn't want to use the gun. If the Society for the Protection of Demon Rights found out I'd killed one without a permit, I was in for it.
The screen door flapped in the wind, banging against the house. The door was not locked. We passed through a small entry hall into a living room. Long cob web littered hallways went off to the left and right. A doorway straight ahead led to the kitchen. I sniffed the air and let my mind wander. To the left, I decided.
"Go slow," I said to Vegan.
"Something here?" he said.
"Just go slow and if I tell you, start backing up, but do it very smooth and slow."
"At your service." His voice sounded a touch lower.
As we wheeled down the hall, I realized just what I was asking this man. He either didn't know what he was getting into, was very stupid or very brave.
The third room on the left had new carpet installed. An attempt to rehab the place before the new owner gave up on it? Empty, the room looked like it had been a master bedroom. A door in the back probably led to the bathroom. I had Vegan roll me through the doorway.
I could smell it. The room stank of fear and blood long gone. The hair on my neck stood. I loved it. Demons.
Suddenly, against the back wall several huge forms began to materialize. Scales covered the massive bodies and knife sharp claws extended from their thick fingers. Hate glimmered in the eyes.
I felt Vegan jerk against the chair, but then he held still. My own pulse quickened. I needed to stay longer. I had to see if they could take material form here. If they did, we'd found all the answers and trouble we needed.
I turned on the laser pointer. The huge forms grew more solid. I could feel Vegan's grip tightening on the chair. My heart pounded. The first thing the beasts would do would be to attack. The monster on the far right looked solid. I aimed the laser toward its eyes, and it let out a bellowing scream. Laser light freezes them and they hate it. The other one became solid and I switched the beam to it. The first bolted forward.
"Take me back, slowly," I yelled at Vegan.
He jerked the chair backward. I lost the laser's focus on the second demon's eyes before the light could force it to stop. Both creatures bolted toward us.
I grabbed the door frame to slow the chair enough to regain my aim. The two made it half way across the room. Four more materialized in the background. I let go of the frame. Vegan wheeled me back a little more, slowly this time. Swinging the laser across the group, I held the beam still each time it hit eyes, and each time it hit the eyes of a demon, the creature bellowed and froze.
Vegan edged the wheelchair round so it faced toward the end of the hall and kept moving backward at a creeping pace. Twisting sideways, I stopped swinging the laser. Instead, I fried the closest demon's eyes with the laser at close range. Leaning forward, it stood still a split second, screamed and its forward momentum dropped it through the doorway just as Vegan backed me away.
The beast clawed the carpet inches from my feet. Face forward on the floor with my laser light in its eyes, it howled in frustration. Blood pounded against my skull.
"Haul it," I said, switched the beam to high intensity and began to sweep the laser again as demons clambered over their fallen brother.
The huge, deformed shapes filled the hallway. In that confined space, only one could come forward at a time. I fried the lead beast's eyes. The ones in back knocked it over and scrambled over it.
"Stop," I yelled at Vegan as we made it halfway through the living room. Remarkably, he did. I took a deep breath. Taking the laser in two hands, I dropped the first demon into the living room, then the second on top of it and the third on top of the struggling pile. The demon's bloodthirsty howls filled the air with horror.
"Go," I yelled and Vegan started backing in a hurry. We reached the outside door just as several of the beasts scrambled over the mound of flailing demons and raced into the living room.
Out the door, Vegan slammed it just as a monster reached out to grab at me. We headed for the truck. The demons screamed their frustration. Thank God, apparently the demons had never before gone outside in material form. Now they couldn't just up and do it, or at least not quickly. I could see a shape materializing outside the house but it did not become physically present.
Vegan's hands shook violently as he lifted me into the truck, ran around the side, got in and spun the vehicle out of the driveway. A mile down the road, I told him to stop. "My God," he said. "I never realized--those things--kill you in a second."
"Yeah, you're a cool one, Vegan," I said, reached over and grabbed him by the shoulder. His breath came in gasps. I lowered one hand to his chest and left it there until his breathing slowed. Later, back at my place we talked. I learned that his younger sister had been in a wheelchair. That explained his seeing me as a person not a rolling device. I also learned my partner Chrys had talked to Precious about me and Precious had told Vegan. Vegan had been thinking of a reason to see me before he discovered the demons.
In the morning, I went to work. The "mansion" in the mountains turned out to be owned by a bank. The bank in turn was a part of a publishing firm that was part of a conglomerate whose corporate headquarters were located in Taiwan and whose main product was frozen pizzas. By the time Vegan returned, I was holing demon targets and cursing. No one anywhere had seemed able to say anything about the house and that damn mouse of Vegan's had stayed busy scurrying around the floor, a rapid reminder of snacks past. Vegan showed up just moments before I would have taken a frying pan and squashed the pesky rodent.
"Tonight, we going to go blow them away?" He smiled.
I shook my head. "No can do. Need a demon hunting permit and you need the building owner's agreement to get that, and I can't even find who at the bank would care, let alone sign something. No, we're back where we were."
The mouse scurried under the desk, its ten little roller feet making soft scuffling noises. I frowned at it.
“Your laser seemed to stop them last night. Why not just use that?" Vegan said as he settled on the couch.
“It will halt them in their tracks, and if you keep the light focused on them long enough, they'll vanish and never come back to that particular place. But how would we do it? We can't go there with six people and still maintain your boss' secrets, nor could the two of us hit six at the same time."
Vegan shrugged, took the piece of paper he'd been drawing on, wadded it up and tossed it toward the basket. He missed. The mouse scrambled toward it.
"Robots," I said as I watched the wretched creature run into the living room and struggle with the ball of paper. That started it. A week later, we loaded Vegan's truck with raw meat doped with a marker that when digested would get into the blood stream and then bond to chemicals in the eyes of most mammals. Hopefully, it would bind in demons. The marker would attract the laser’s guiding system. It did depend on the chemical working, but I'd been assured that it probably would. The scientists think the demons come from the next 'verse over in the multiverse and consequently are very similar in genetic code. Hard to believe, you ask me.
We delivered the meat to the master bedroom and left hurriedly before the monsters could become physical. They have a preference for live food and would have jumped over the meat to get at us. Early the next morning, knowing the creatures would be unlikely to reappear after being sated, we installed a series of twelve bots with guided lasers. One for each eye. Vegan set up cameras and then connected a miniature control room in the living room. The control board included monitors for the bedroom plus an override just in case a bot failed to focus its laser. For a last step, I placed a series of printed warnings all around the bedroom. Demons can't read, but according to the law, they have to be warned.
That night we returned. The grey finally left the sky and instead stars lit the dark jagged cracks in the driveway. A humid breeze blew from the south. Vegan opened the door and entered. I rolled in behind him, my laser out. We'd left the monitors on and could see the demons had not yet come out for the evening. The waiting is always the part I hate. Especially hateful about waiting is when I have a man standing beside me, sometimes touching me, who I'd like to haul off and kiss and I can't. Work is trash. Never mix your work with pleasure I always say except when I do it.
By midnight, I started to wonder whether we'd fed them too much the night before. At half past precisely, three started to appear. They were almost physical when another two appeared. The first three started toward the door. A sixth appeared. It looked smaller than the others. I had not noticed that before. The second group took physical form and I turned on the bots.
Deafening screams pierced the air. Vegan slapped his hands to his ears. I couldn't afford to. I kept my fingers to the override. The bots each found a target. So far, so good. The demons stood frozen in place, howling.
The sixth one solidified. The two remaining bots did nothing. A drop of sweat rolled down my forehead and into my eye. The little monster bellowed and raced toward the door. It must not have gotten much of the meat. I switched on the override to manually target.
Everyone of the demons broke loose and lumbered toward the door. The small one burst into the hall.
My hand froze over the controls. Then I jabbed the one to resume automatic. The bots must be either all on automatic or all on override. Five of the demons froze.
Mouth frothing with hunger, the smaller demon bounded into the living room.
Vegan jumped forward to meet it and with a swift series of kicks landed five hits on the beast. It roared. Again Vegan wheeled and spun, this time showering his kicks lower. Quick as grease, the beast snatched Vegan's leg and tossed him toward the wall. He landed, rose and fell.
The monster lumbered over to him. Vegan backed up until he flattened against the wall.
I pointed my laser at the creature but couldn't see its eyes. Vegan tried to scramble away. The demon reached down with both paws, grabbed Vegan and picked him up.
Damn Vegan for trying to attack a demon. I pulled out my .45 and tried to aim, but Vegan's legs and arms kept moving in the way. The beast grabbed Vegan around the chest and squeezed. Vegan’s face turned white.
Hoping the creature would notice the damage, I lowered my aim and began blowing holes in the demon’s hip. Vegan frantically tried to stay away from the beast’s gaping, tooth filled maw. Sweat poured down my forehead. I'd seen death but no, please not Vegan.
Ten bullets in its hip, the beast turned my way. I hit it in the eyes with the laser. For long minutes it stood, arms trembling with the desire to lower Vegan to its mouth. Vegan struggled futilely in its grasp. Finally, the demon faded. Vegan dropped to the floor. I looked at the monitors in the bedroom. The other demons were gone. With a groan, Vegan struggled to his feet.
That ended the demons that had tortured poor Preacher Bob. Believe me, that night Vegan and I stopped at the same place about a mile down the road and just held each other until we could quit shaking.
Each time I hunt demons, I swear I'll never do it again--nothing's worth getting killed or scared half to death. When I said that to Vegan he smiled and shook his head. "You'll quit hunting demons when Preacher Bob quits taking donations," he said.
I guess he's right. Least it keeps my hog in fuel.
Read Jennie's earlier adventures in "Jennie Janes, the Pistol Packing, Wheelchair Rolling, Licensed Demon Hunter."
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