Deus Vult Page 3

  4 Behind the Wall of Downey

  The four of us continued to scour the rest of the monastery but found nothing. After, Alex, Pearson, and I went to Gerald Downey’s house, while Sinead got in her car, wished us luck, and drove back to the house.

  “Can’t I go with her?” Alex asked as she drove off.

  “Come on.”

  “At least take the helmet off when driving, okay?”

  It didn’t take long to find the home address of the Gerald Downey who happened to work at Matchett Industries. We looked up Gerald Downey, found five different individuals, and then picked the one that lived nearest to the company. Then we drove to the house.

  How did we know that we had the right Gerald Downey? I opened my car door and the smell of evil knocked me back on my heels.

  Pearson and Alex both noted me—it was hard not to, I grabbed the hood of the car and doubled over, trying not to vomit.

  “How bad?” Alex asked immediately.

  “Curran smelled better.”

  With his left hand, Alex reached into his back pocket and came out with a box for playing cards. With his right hand, he reached behind him and adjusted his gun.

  Pearson shifted his own weight, touching three pockets in his jacket, checking to see what was there. “Will you be all right?”

  I hesitated. I didn’t want to say yes flat outright. If I didn’t get used to this, I was going to be in serious trouble. There would be no way that we could avoid a confrontation. If Downey was possessed (and with the state of his house, there was no way he wasn’t at least dabbling in the demonic) then his reaction to me would be much like Curran’s … he would try to kill me, instinctively and immediately.

  I looked at Pearson. “Break out your holy water. I think I have a solution.”

  I walked around Pearson and popped the trunk. In the wheel well, we had a first aid kit. I grabbed a cotton ball and tore it in half. I rolled each half into a tight ball, then waved Pearson closer for his holy water. I tapped the holy water onto each ball, then tapped them into my nostrils.

  I took a deep breath.

  The scent of sin was gone.

  “Whew.” I reached up, grabbed the trunk, and slammed it shut. I looked at Pearson. “I wish I had thought of this a year ago. It would have saved me a lot of bother.” To Alex I said, “Let’s go.”

  We approached the door cautiously. Pearson still held the vial of holy water. Alex had a firm grip on the playing card box. I had a little plastic pouch of holy oil in my left hand.

  When we knocked on the door, a teenager answered. Her age was hard to gauge, since she deliberately dressed down, but she looked painfully young. Her brown hair was in pigtails, and the baby fat in her face made her looked prepubescent… except, she was pregnant. She was otherwise tiny in every direction.

  “Can I help you?” she asked in a high soprano voice.

  I reached into my pocket and flashed my badge. My left hand still had the holy water. “Yes, my name is Detective Thomas Nolan. I’m with the police. And who are you?”

  She leaned back, the door half-closed, like a shield. “Denise.”

  I nodded and slipped my badge away. “We would like to talk with Gerald Downey. Is he in?”

  “He’s not here right now,” she told us.

  I glanced back at the others. They shrugged. I smiled at her genially. “May we come in and wait for him?”

  Her body language went stiff in a particular way. I had sudden flashbacks to every domestic disturbance call I had ever rolled out to. Which, unfortunately, led me to wonder who the father of her child was.

  “Don’t worry,” I said, “we only need to ask him some questions.” For the moment.

  Her eyes narrowed. “About?”

  I shrugged casually. “We know he had visited a monastery yesterday. We would like to know if he can help us with our inquiries. Maybe he saw something. Perhaps he even did something we need to know about.” Like murder a bunch of helpless exorcists.

  “I guess.” She stepped back and took the door with her. I smiled again, nodded, and stepped inside. I didn’t want to spook her with sudden movements. She closed the door and asked if we wanted coffee. I thought she’d feel comfortable if she were in with the knives and we were in the living room.

  I nodded. “Sure.”

  She left. Alex and I exchanged a look. I nodded at him. He nodded back. Pearson watched us. He said nothing but moved with his back to the wall.

  “If she didn’t live here, I’d consider torching the place and see if that sent a message to the bastard,” Alex said under his breath.

  I said nothing, but I had similar violent thoughts.

  There is one call every cop hates—domestics. They were volatile, unpredictable, and there were few ways to really tell who was the victim and who was the perp. That’s even assuming every party wasn’t both to some degree. Though in this case, I was willing to place money on who was the perp and who wasn’t. I almost hoped that Gerald Downey was guilty of being some sort of otherworldly and supernatural creature. That would give me an excuse to pummel him into the dirt.

  He causes me to lie down in green pastures; He leads me beside still waters. He restores my soul; He leads me in paths of righteousness for His name's sake. He prevents me from taking a tire iron to Gerald Downey’s skull…

  My friends and family wondered why I doubted being a “saint.” Because I knew exactly what went on in my head.

  Denise came back and offered coffee all around.

  “So, when’s the happy date?” I asked as I took the cup.

  Denise looked at me, confused. She distributed the rest of the coffee. I nodded towards her baby bump.

  She flinched. “There won’t be one.” She gave a brief glance to Father Pearson. “I’m going to have an abortion,” she said sadly.

  Pearson was deliberately looking the other way. Alex focused on the front door.

  Okay, fine then. “Aren’t you a little far along for that?” I asked casually as I sipped the coffee. “I’m thinking you’re at least five months? Perhaps six?”

  “Oh, my stepfather says that we can go down to New York City at any time before she … it comes. We hear that Mayor Hoynes made certain it could happen up to the last minute… before he disappeared.”

  Before he was dragged to Hell, you mean, I thought. Alex smirked. I could see he thought the same thing.

  I looked around, then looked at her. “If you’re going to wait that long, might as well consider adoption. Talk to anyone about that? I mean, you seem in good shape. Good living environment. Your daughter would be a shoe-in for almost any home.” I reached into my badge holder and slid out my card. “Give me a call. All else fails, I’ll adopt her. My wife will be happy that she’s not giving birth to this one,” I joked.

  Denise snatched the card and slid it away.

  A car door slammed outside. Denise’s head shot up like a startled gopher. I placed the coffee down. “Denise. I think you’ll want to go upstairs now.”

  Denise didn’t have to be told twice. She moved as fast as she could up the stairs. A moment later, we heard another door slam, her bedroom door.

  I placed myself in front of the door, standing fifteen feet away. I wanted to be the focus of Downey’s attention when he first came in. Alex took up a position in a corner of the room at right angles to me. Alex could flank Downey when he came in. Pearson stood diagonally from the door. All we needed was Downey to complete the square.

  The door swung open, and Gerald Downey took a step inside before coming to a dead stop.

  Downey was not a tall man, but he was stocky. His hair was graying, so was his mustache. His eyes were a pale sickly blue, hidden behind wire specs. He had big rough hands that seemed disproportionate to his size.

  Downey smiled broadly when he saw me. His teeth were so oversized, they looked fake.

  “It had to be you, didn’t it… Saint?”

  5 Hell Spawn

  The bookcase behind Alex leaped off of
the wall, dropping on him. It spilled books and DVDs all over him and the floor. He cried out in the surprise at the sudden attack by the inanimate object.

  From the wall, the plasma television dropped onto Pearson. It was a light television, but it still slammed into his back with enough force to throw him to the floor.

  The couch swung around, coming for my legs.

  O LORD, oppose those who oppose me. Fight those who fight against me.

  I jumped in place, my feet coming down on the couch cushions. It didn’t matter, because the couch jerked back, ripping my feet out from under me and throwing me to the floor. I tucked my chin and slapped the ground with my forearms so I could absorb the impact on the fleshy parts of my body and not the bone.

  Put on your armor, and take up your shield. Prepare for battle, and come to my aid.

  This left Downey free to jump for me. From a standing start, he cleared the length of the living room to body-slam me.

  I planted my left foot on the floor, shot my hips up, and launched my free foot in a kick, planting the sole of my shot in Downey’s face.

  Lift up your spear and javelin against those who pursue me.

  I planted my right hand on the floor, pushed up, and swung my right leg under me. It shot back and shoved to my feet.

  Let me hear you say, “I will give you victory!”

  Downey and I now squared off, his advantage against me gone. Downey was low, his back hunched over, gorilla-like. His arms were wide, ready to reach out and clasp me if I got too close.

  I clenched both fists and smiled. “Not so easy, am I? You don’t fight me. You fight the Lord.”

  Downey grinned, excited. His breath came in quick, shallow huffs. “Good. I would hate it if this were too easy.”

  Downey charged.

  Bring shame and disgrace on those trying to kill me—

  I shot my hips backwards and my left hand to palm him in the face. For the record, in any other situation, that is a truly dangerous move, and would be as like to break the defender’s fingers as anything else.

  However, in this case, my fist had burst the bag of holy oil, covering my hand and fingers in it. The oil covered Downey’s face in a mask he couldn’t easily wipe off. My fingers drove into his eyes. The oil on my palm went up his nose and on his lips. He roared and reared back like a horse that had stepped on a caltrop. The windows rattled, and my eardrums hurt. He swatted my arm away and swung for my head. I leaned back, letting the blow fly past, then burst forward so I could ram the scar on my palm into his nose. With a crack, his head snapped back, and he staggered towards the front door.

  Turn them back and humiliate those who want to harm me.

  A lamp ripped out of the wall and flew for me. I dropped to a crouch. It smashed into the wall, covering me with shards.

  Downey growled. “How dare you! You think you can defeat me! Defeat us! If you only knew the true power of—”

  Alex, from his place on the floor, had drawn his gun and fired. Downey’s kneecap exploded. He cried out in pain, the leg collapsing. He wheeled around to Alex. This only served to present his face to Father Pearson’s uppercut. Downey rocked back, slammed up against the wall. He hissed like a snake and pushed off the wall. He launched his shoulder into Pearson’s body, sending him back across the room. On one leg, Downey whirled on Alex. My partner fired again, but the demon hopped, dodging the bullet.

  “Aw crap,” Alex muttered.

  Blow them away like chaff in the wind— a wind sent by the angel of the Lord.

  I jumped on Downey’s back, overbalancing him. We went crashing to the floor. Downey snapped his elbow for my face but only caught my bicep. The impact made my entire arm go numb. I slammed my oiled palm into the side of his face and pressed his head into the floor. Downey cried out in pain and thrashed beneath me. He bucked and tossed me something fierce and eventually threw me off.

  Make their path dark and slippery, with the angel of the Lord pursuing them.

  Downey rolled over, coming straight for me. His fingernails had grown during our fight, looking more like raptor talons. His teeth took on a more ratlike appearance. He gnashed his teeth at my face. I pulled back just in time. His claws shot in as my arms came out in a guard. The talons slashed my overcoat to ribbons and caught my flesh as well. My blood quickly covered my arms. He darted forward like a snake, his teeth coming for my neck.

  Let sudden ruin come upon them!

  Instead, Downey’s teeth met Pearson’s shoe as he went for a full soccer kick to the face. Downey fell back and went rolling away. He pushed himself off the floor, onto his good leg. His features became more snake-like. His eyes were slitted, his tongue flicked out and back again.

  Let them be caught in the trap they set for me!

  Downey looked at Pearson. “And who are you, little priest? Should we know you?”

  Pearson shrugged. His hands were clenched in fists. “Perhaps. I’ve faced any number of you fools.”

  Downey’s grin expanded. “Fools? We know all that there is to be known. There is nothing in existence that we do not know. We have existed before your foolish faith, and no matter what you do to me today, we will exist long after you’re gone.”

  Pearson smiled. “But I’ll be in Heaven. We know where you’ll go.” He spread his arms wide. “Come. Let’s hug it out, as the Americans say.”

  Downey hissed and threw himself forward.

  Pearson spun, opening his right fist, throwing holy salt in Downey’s face, as well as twisting out of the way of Downey’s charge.

  Let them be destroyed in the pit they dug for me.

  Downey ran into the holy salt and roared. His momentum carried him forward into the wall.

  Then I will rejoice in the Lord.

  That’s when I pushed off my feet and body-checked him, driving him further into the wall.

  I will be glad because he rescues me.

  He shoved off the wall, throwing me with him. He whirled, slashing at me. He scored across my chest.

  From the floor, Alex had gotten his box of cards and slid one out of the pack. Except it wasn’t actually a playing card, but a metal card with a saint’s face on it.

  He reared back, and like with the regular playing card and the grapefruit, he flicked it into Downey’s face.

  The metal card bit into his cheek. He hissed and shook it off like a bear with a bee sting.

  However, Downey’s strength left him. His face morphed back to the features he entered the house with, and he fell back. He collapsed to the floor like a switch had just turned him off.

  With every bone in my body I will praise him: LORD, who can compare with you? Who else rescues the helpless from the strong?

  Pearson and I scrambled forward to secure Downey. I flipped him on his stomach and cuffed his arms behind his back at the elbows—when I had faced Curran, he had dislocated his thumbs to get out of handcuffs. I wasn’t going to risk that this possessed bastard would do the same.

  I kicked the door closed, then sagged on Downey’s back. I didn’t care if I was too heavy for him. It wasn’t like I was going to kill him.

  I let out a heavy breath as the tension drained out of me. I found myself suddenly out of breath, gasping for great gulps of air.

  I rolled over on my side and looked to Alex. “You okay?”

  Alex gave me an acid look as he pulled himself from under the bookcase. “Just peachy, Tommy.” He grunted as he pulled himself forward. “You know. I am getting way too old for fistfights with demons and witches and whatever else is hunting you.”

  I blinked, confused. I thought over all of my experiences with Alex. “What witches? And when did you start carrying metal holy cards?”

  Alex reached forward again, then went limp. “Screw it.” He sighed and planted his face in the rug. “Long story. I’ll tell you about it sometime.”

  6 The Evil in the Walls

  The three of us took Gerald Downey and dragged him up the stairs. Pearson and I had a grip on his shoulders, Al
ex on his good foot. Alex let the damaged leg thump against every step on the way up. Downey woke up screaming at the first thump and kept screaming all the way up. We couldn’t tell if the demon had woken up and was play-acting, or if it retreated into Downey and hid from us.

  I looked over my shoulder at Alex and said, “Really? You had to do that?”

  Alex smiled and shrugged. “Kinda.”

  I rolled my eyes and kept hefting as Downey swore a blue streak all the way. After a while, I tuned out his threats of lawsuits, damnation, and physical violence. Back in my uniform days, that was a Friday. We tossed him into the first open bedroom door. It was the master bedroom…

  Conveniently, the master bedroom had a four-poster bed and physical restraints already attached. It was almost like he knew we were coming.

  Yes, I’m making light of the situation. My current state forbids me from dwelling too long on what my thoughts were at that moment. My first reaction was quickly quelled. I didn’t know the situation between him and his stepdaughter (thank God, rape was bad enough without incest on top of it) for certain. I didn’t want to assume too much. Downey, pre-demon, could have just been into some kinky bondage stuff. Which, according to my faith, it perfectly fine as long as Tab A ended in Slot B where it belonged. Contrary to popular belief, the Vatican largely didn’t care what happened behind closed doors, as long as it was consensual, between a married couple, and everyone was fully open to conception.

  I threw Downey on the bed and didn’t care when Alex took the injured leg and “accidentally” slammed it against one of the bedposts.

  Without being told, Pearson moved to the other side of the bed to secure Downey’s arms with the provided restraints.

  Alex chuckled. “Not your first rodeo, huh?”

  Pearson looked at Alex and shrugged. “My title is combat exorcist. This is an easy day in comparison. They’re usually shooting at me.”

  Alex scoffed, amused. “Funny, me, too.”

  When Downey was as fully restrained as we could make him, I said, “I’m going to check on Denise. You two going to be good here for a few minutes?”