Afterworld (The Orion Rezner Chronicles Book 1) (10 page)

“’Bout as big as big fish from hell get, I suppose.”

“What else did you dream about?”

“I don’t know, nothing much. I only slept a few hours.”

Father Killroy deadpanned me.

“What?” I asked.

“Orion, you’ve been sleeping for two days. Mushiro and Melody and I have been checking in on you in shifts.”

“Huh? What the hell you talking about?” I looked at my calendar, as if that would tell me anything—it was from 2033. “That seems like something you would tell someone as soon as you saw them awake. Don’t you think?” Seriously, what was wrong with this guy?

“You had other things on your mind at the time,” he said.

I shook my head, trying to wrap my mind around losing two days. “So, I missed my meeting with the council?”

“Yes, they’ll be wanting to talk to you immediately.” He sipped his beer lazily.

“Uh-huh…did you say Melody—as in Melody Stone, the witch—was
also
watching over me?”

‘Yeah.” He said it as if having a hot chick you hardly know listen to you fart in your sleep is no big deal! “And Kronos made it—he walked up to the northern gate this morning.”

“Wow, that’s great news,” I said. Despite our differences, I was actually glad to hear it. “How about Macklebee?”

Killroy shook his head, his top lip disappearing beneath the bottom one again. “He was a good man.”

“Hear, hear.”

We clanged bottles and finished them.

“It’s probably best you stay inside the spell dome. Azazel got a whiff of you, and he doesn’t seem like the kind of demon who quickly forgets.”

“Why would he be so interested in me?”

Father Killroy put his hand on my knee as if I were a naïve kid. “’Cause you’re a good man.”

“I’m serious—just because he tried to possess me? Big deal.” I shivered. Have I mentioned that I loathe demons?

“He tried to possess you for a reason. Demons love nothing more than to corrupt the good-hearted. They are the spreaders of sin, the sirens of the ancient times. The more pure the fruit…the better the wine.”

“Yeah, he picked me ’cause I’m such a good guy. Why not you? You’re a freakin’ priest for Christ…ler’s sake.”

“You are more than you think.” He grew serious. “You had just fought against something that you thought was wrong—you attempted to save the children. You must have glowed to him like a Christmas tree. When Azazel looked upon you, he saw the light of righteousness burning bright within you…and he wants to corrupt it. More than
anything
, he wants to corrupt it. This is no ordinary demon we’re talking about, Rezner. Azazel brought unto man the knowledge of war. Women he taught deception, how to ornament their bodies with makeup and jewelry. If there was a king of Las Vegas, it would be him.”

“So you’re saying I’m screwed?”

“Not necessarily. I gather that his host body is weak at the moment and he’s looking for a new one. If he were on the top of his game, he probably wouldn’t have tried to possess you…it takes a long time for the host to adjust. Most people wouldn’t survive possession by such a powerful demon.” He placed his empty beer on the coffee table.

“Natural Mystic” began on the CD player. The Wailers’ groovy, eerie chorus lent a strange mood to the night and conversation. I was dealing with something far older than I. The centuries sped by in my memory, and I fought to quiet Azazel’s voice.

You can save your sister
…

“You all right, son?”

No, I’m totally screwed
.

“I’m fine,” I said.

Killroy wasn’t convinced, but I wasn’t saying any more. I was already in deep shit with the council. I had disobeyed a direct order from a master wizard. The last thing I needed was them thinking I was hearing a demon in my head.

“I’m going out. No point in sleeping now,” I said, jumping to my feet. I needed to clear my head.

“You want company?” He wrestled himself out of the recliner.

“No thanks.” I needed to figure some things out. Maybe the library would have some answers.

F
ather Killroy left and I cleaned up. I felt like I hadn’t bathed in a month, though it had only been a few days. Showers are a luxury in the Afterworld. I could’ve caught one at Harvard, but driving all the way there for a shower is a pain in the ass. A towel bath would have to suffice.

Once I was as clean as I was going to get and had brushed the fuzz off my teeth, I put on a clean pair of jeans, my orange Bob Marley T-shirt, a pair of old army boots, and grabbed my knee-length pea coat.

Dude and I took my solar-powered scooter to Mushi’s apartment but found no one there. I left a note in the door jamb saying I’d be at the library. I had a lot of time to kill before I needed to see the council. The old farts wouldn’t be available until morning, and the headquarters was just across the road.

The night was uncommonly cool for June, and Dude clung to my back for heat as we cruised at a serene twenty miles per hour. I passed a boarded-up coffee shop and felt a pang of loss. God, how I miss having coffee. There is still some around, what with military MREs and our stockpile of storable food, but that stuff is now a finite commodity and very expensive. Hopefully, with the expansion of greenhouses throughout the city, we’ll start growing coffee soon—assuming anyone has green coffee beans. The Elite likely still have coffee. With places like the Doomsday Seed Vault, off the coast of Norway, it’s likely they’re still living like kings. We Bostonians, on the other hand, only have what was already in the city or what was brought in by survivors. I haven’t seen a banana in about seven years.

I parked in front of the library and cast a wary eye on Hancock Tower, down the road. The spell shield hummed softly, shooting up from the tower and spreading out like a big umbrella above the city. Dude and I made our way into Bates Hall.

The library was chilly, but not half as bad as it was in the winter. On most summer nights the cool stone building was a reprieve. In the winter months the torches and fireplaces burned steady, fueled by the magic of the Wizard Council. They said it was a gift to the people of Boston to facilitate and encourage learning. The gift of knowledge was something the old-world Elites had ever tried to keep from the people. I’m not sure if it was the cold or a thirst for knowledge, but these days, the library is always packed during the day with people pouring over the old tomes from times past. Between the covers of those thousands of volumes, humanity might find its way once more.

At this time of night, though, there were only a few other people at the dozens of tables, and finding an empty one was easy. It’s one of the reasons I go there so often in the small hours. Don’t get me wrong; it’s not that I don’t like people…I just…don’t like people. Granted, they have gotten better over the last, say, seven years, but they tend to disappoint me—myself included.

I grabbed a table at the middle of the room and inquired with the librarian, Hazel Greene. She quickly brought me an old copy of the
Book of Enoch
and a couple
Curious George
books. Dude offered her kissy lips and she giggled.

“Let me know if you need anything else.” She smiled over her beaded spectacles, possessing a grandmotherly quality that always put me at ease—unless, of course, Dude was making too much noise for her liking…or had dragged a roll of toilet paper all the way back from the bathroom.

“Thanks, Hazel.”

Dude snagged the Book of Enoch from me and began thumbing through.

“Gimme that,” I said, taking it from him. He made a poop sound and settled in with
Curious George
.

I found what I was looking for in Enoch 8:1–3a:

“And Azazel taught men to make swords and knives and shields and breastplates; and made known to them the metals [of the earth] and the art of working them; and bracelets and ornaments; and the use of antimony and the beautifying of the eyelids; and all kinds of costly stones and all coloring tinctures. And there arose much godlessness, and they committed fornication, and they were led astray and became corrupt in all their ways.”

It went on to say:

“On the day of the great judgment he shall be cast into the fire. The whole earth has been corrupted through the works that were taught by Azazel: to him ascribe all sin.”

I was beginning to get a really bad feeling. Why had Azazel—who had been attributed with showing man such sin—been looking for the children of the Cain? Not to mention, why the hell is such a powerful demon in New England? Assuming the “Day of Judgment” mentioned was the Culling, which took place seven years ago, one would assume Azazel had been cast into the fire. Was the “fire” actually modern day earth, and not some place in the depths of the earth, as the book said? I’m no scholar, but I think it’s safe to assume that if hell does exist, it isn’t actually inside the planet’s core. Then again, stranger shit has happened.

I have always held religion at a safe distance. You could call me an Undecided. I’m still sampling from the crazy-shit-people-have-made-up buffet. When you look deep enough you begin to realize that all the different religions have many of the same scenes, acts, and players, albeit differently named. If compared as a collection of different plays, it becomes apparent that a majority tell the same story. I couldn’t help but wonder if I was really dealing with one of the ancient fathers of the Nephilim, the giants of the ancient world.

A few hours later, after going over several other texts, one thing was for sure—I was screwed.

“Doing a little light reading?”

I nearly jumped out of my chair. Melody stood across the table from me, wearing a tight leather jacket and a delicious smile. I looked down at the pile of books I had gathered.

“Uh…yeah, catching up.”

She took a seat opposite me—and a sleeping Dude. A scrunched-nose smile spread across her face as he snored lightly.

“Looking for info on Azazel?” she asked, taking a peek at the tomes before me.

I was surprised. “How did you know?”

Melody tossed her dark hair over her right shoulder. “Well, let’s see…we got hijacked by a demon named Azazel, who tried to possess you on the spot. You tossed and turned all last night, mumbling about him. And now you’re reading the
Book of Enoch
…lucky guess?”

I stared at her like a dumbass.

You think he’s after you now?” she asked.

“I hope not, but Father Killroy seems to think so.”

She was staring at me in a strange way. Her eyes traveled across my face—she seemed distracted. I began to feel like I had something in my teeth.

“What?” I finally asked.

“What?” She jerked as if coming out of a trance.

“You doing some weird witchy shit on me? ’Cause I like being asked.”

“No…I swear. I’m just reading your face.”

“Reading my face? Sounds like weird witchy shit to me.”

“Quit swearing in the library.”

I leaned in and whispered to her, “Why the hell not? This isn’t a church, it’s a library.”

“It’s a place of higher learning. You owe it more effort.”

“OK, sounds like weird witchy
excrement
to me.”

She gave me a playful Billy Idol sneer.

I got a twitch and changed the subject. “What’s up with you watching over me while I slept? I thought you hated me.”

She acted as if she had been caught at something and shrugged stiffly. “I was asked by Father Killroy,” she said, and then quickly changed the subject again. “Were you really going to take on Master Wizard Kronos over those children?”

I thought about Mary. “Of course.”

She considered that for a moment and then shrugged. “It wasn’t really an option, was it?”

Aaand subject change
.

“So…what happened after Kronos gave me the magical TKO?”

“He carried you back to the truck—well, you and Pastor Bailey, one on each shoulder.”

Damn, that Russian bastard is kinda the man
.

“I think what you did was very brave,” she said sincerely.

“It’s a shame that doing the right thing is considered brave. And it’ll probably get me booted from the Order of Franklin.”

“Sshh!” came a hiss from Hazel.

“Sorry,” I whispered.

“They aren’t going to kick you out. There are not enough wizards around for them to be rash. You screwed up—big deal.”

I scoffed. “I screwed up? Which was it—brave or a screw-up?”

“You know what I mean. Just go along with whatever they say and you’ll be fine.”

“What’s the council’s big aversion to those kids anyway? Their story of possible contamination is bullshit.”

She looked as though she might say something but quickly caught herself. I wondered if she knew something.

“Well, I’ll leave you to your work,” she said, getting up.

“I’m sorry.” I stood in objection, bumping my thighs on the edge of the table.

“If you need any help with your lore, don’t be afraid to ask.” With that, she turned to leave.

“’K, thanks.”

“Shh!” Hazel hissed.

I offered her an apologetic nod and watched Melody go. Dude rubbed his eyes and blinked at me with a pathetic chimp smile that would have sold a thousand lunch boxes.

“Mornin’, Dude.”

He signed, “Good morning.”

“What’s that, Dude? Who was she? Oh, just a smoking hot witch who I’m pretty sure is into me. What’s that, Dude? Did I put on the moves? No, I acted like an asshole instead.”

A woman a few tables down gathered her things, threw me a wary glance, and moved to the other end of the library.

“I’m such a moron,” I told him.

He yawned.

Having lost my study mojo, I gathered up my stack of books and checked my pocket watch—12:30 a.m. Mushiro hadn’t shown. He was probably at the pub.

Me and Dude hopped on our scooter and headed to Fracco’s Bar. Whether Mushiro was there or not, they still had beer.

We pulled up to the pub ten minutes later—Mushi’s scooter was parked next to a badass-looking Harley. Dude led the way inside, and Stevie Ray Vaughn was playing on the juke. I couldn’t help but play air guitar after Stevie’s soulful proclamation, “The sky is cryin’.” I twanged out the first three notes of the lead there in the doorway. I must have looked cooler than shit. I began walking forward with my eyes held tight as I strummed out awesomeness on the side of my leg.

Somebody punched me in the face.

I awoke to Mushi slapping me on the cheek.

“Holy shit, Rez! He’s pissed. Get your ass out of here fast!”

“Whoth pithed?” The room was still spinning.

Mushi was pushed aside, and Kronos loomed over me like a mountain. “That was for not following orders. Now you stand. We settle this, gentleman like.” He took off his huge fur coat of many tails and tossed it on the nearest table, then rolled up his sleeves and spat in his hands.

Holy shit, he’s serious
.

I whispered a spell as I tried to get up. Nothing happened. I tried again—no good. I was slurring my words. Frustrated, and staggering like a drunkard, I stood up against the wall and said the words in my mind…but fell to the floor again while Kronos waited patiently. Mental casting still eluded me.

I dug deep and said the words clearly. A wave of energy washed over me, and my mind cleared instantly. I stood on steady legs and glared at my master.

He laughed. “You use most powerful preservation spell after one punch? I’m ashamed to call you student!”

He was right. I had used my most powerful revival spell way too early. If this turned out to be a real fight, I had just played my best card. The only things I had that would be of any use against Kronos were lightning, magnetism, and wind. I recited my wind spell and focused, letting it build like a boiling teapot. I didn’t have a spell book to guide my casting and ensure the incantation worked perfectly, but wind was wind; there wasn’t a lot of control needed for what I wanted to do.

Kronos sniffed at the air and glanced around. With a sneer he said, “You dare cast wind against master wizard?”

God, I hate this guy
.

The dozen or so patrons stood glued to the walls or sunk low in the chairs. Some I knew, but all knew Kronos it seemed, or maybe it was just because of his magical…vibe. His wrath electrified the air.

“Nobody’s casting anything in here,” said Fracco. He had come out from behind the bar.

Kronos ignored him. He lifted his fists and rolled his shoulders. “Come, Rezner. We settle this once for all.”

I was happy to comply. The power of my spell rejuvenated my mind and body, and my anger from leaving the kids sent me over the top. I came on fast with a double-fisted punch. Kronos’s huge forearms stopped my strike dead. I ducked under a backhand and hit him with an uppercut that thudded against his ribs—I may as well have punched a bull. He picked me up by the shirt and pants and threw me ten feet, slamming me against the wall. Under the effects of my spell, my body took the punishment like a champ. I rebounded quickly as Kronos came on, tossing tables and chairs out of the way like Goliath.