Jack County Demons (3 page)

"I'm in," Whisky said. "When do we leave?"

"Now wait, you must understand something. These things aren't human. This OP is different than the rest. We're up against demons, man."

"I'll get my bag," Whisky insisted. "I'm in."

"Demons," LT said again.

"Hell, demons, dinosaurs, whatever. Doesn't matter, they're all the same to me. If we gotta fight ghosts, then fine. I'll be a damn ghostbuster if need be."

"Demons," LT reminded again.

"Yeah, whatever. I'm ready."

"Can I ask you something personal?" Commander Jacobs said, finally ending his silence.

"All questions are personal. Shoot."

"Do you believe in God?" Jacobs asked.

"Hell," Whisky said, frowning. Looking at LT, he asked, "Who is this guy again?"

"Possibly your boss," LT remarked.

Whisky turned back, asking, "Why you asking that?"

"Because, that's what they are. They're half human, half gods. Not invisible designer of the universe
God, but gods nonetheless. I need you to understand this, and the only way you will be able to understand is if you, yourself, believe. At least have some form of belief," Jacobs explained.

Whisky thought on this a moment, then said, "Yeah, I believe in God. LT, you know I do. Now I'm not perfect, and I don't have lots of answers, but I've been in plenty of
trenches. Sure, I do believe. I'm a God-fearing demon killer!"

Commander Jacob's face expressed what could be considered a smile. "Good," he replied.

Whisky turned back to LT, asking, "What do I need to know?"

"You'll get more details later, but as for now, we're up against demons. Can't say I fully believe myself until
I see 'em, but the government wouldn't be doing all this if it weren’t real. Guess the story goes, Jesus drove out demons. If you believe in him, I guess you must believe in them. He called them Legion."

"Yeah, I remember the story."

"Well, we're going into a town. This place is in the middle of nowhere. And it's filled with demons. They look human; I've seen the recon pictures. But I assure you, they're not. Seen them do things . . . freaking fly man. They can fly. Sort of. They're terrorizing a town, and growing stronger every day, and the United States government wants some badasses like us to go in there and wipe them out."

Whisky grinned, saying, "Let's go save a town, then. What are we waiting for?"

The three men drove late into the night. They stopped only once for gas, and pushed on for hours on end. Commander Jacobs questioned LT once more, but he had made a promise. He had allowed LT to pick his team, and in doing so, caused them to have a six-hour drive. It was fine, though. None of them minded. It allowed time for LT and Whisky to catch up, and for Commander Jacobs to debrief them both more on the situation. Even as they drove, he received updates on the situation. His technical team was hard at work in the Control Room, surveying the region, watching the demons from overhead. They also had a few insiders, a few assets on the ground who reported, but those contacts seemed to have recently dried up.



Red was in his late thirties. Usually a pretty boy, especially when around the ladies, he also had a rugged side. At the moment, Red was covered in grease and dirt and working on his Harley. He remained quiet, clinking away, in a desolate garage. Alone and happy to be, Red tinkered with the engine, humming a tune.

"You look like
crap," LT exclaimed.

Red turned, saying, "Great, you two
assholes."

The men embrace
d in giant bear hugs.

"Now, who's that?" Red asked, pointing to Commander Jacobs.

LT once again explained.

"Fair enough," Red said, listening then nodding his approval. "So, I'm guessing you aren't here to take me on a drinking
binge, though we could all use it."

"Afraid not," LT replied.

"A gig?" Red asked.

"A proposition."

"No thanks," Red replied, stubbornly. "Already had my last mission. Whisky, you did too. I remember you saying it. And you LT - you've been done a while now."

"I'm back in," LT said. "So is Whisky. Just this once."

"Why?"

"Because they need us on this, Red," LT ex
plained. "We're the best, and they need us. This town is hurting. Kids, women - they're all hurting. This town is smack in the middle of nowhere, and nobody cares. The people are being terrorized by something they can't understand. And I may not understand it either, but if we don't do this, it will never stop."

"What exactly is the mission?" Red asked, filled with inspiration and curiosity.

Whisky laughed aloud. "Ha! That's how they got me on board."

And LT explained the situation
in Jack County once more.

The team was together. They had a plan, they
had the brotherhood, they had the balls to face whatever was in Jack County.

If this was their last mission, so be it.

If they were to die, let them die together.

They revved up their motorcycles. The deep rumbling sound
from the familiar Harley Davidsons filled the night air. The noise was deafening. Whatever slept at this late hour was now awake. Curious onlookers gazed through open windows and doorways as the team situated themselves for a long ride.

They were off! The bikes tore into the dark night, the grumbling exhaust echoing for miles, leaving the small town aware of their presence. They tore off in the distance, riding at breakneck speeds down the lonely highway.

Commander Jacobs nodded his head, satisfied. He opened his flip phone, pressed a button,
and put the phone to his ear. Moments later a soft voice spoke to him on the other end. "You owe me fifty bucks," Jacobs commented. He was visibly satisfied. Something that was almost a grin, or as close to it as the man could muster, crept across his face. He watched as the motorcycles sped off, listening as the sound eventually faded back to silence. Then, Jacobs turned his attention back to the phone.

"Wasn't easy, but I convinced him."

"How?" he repeated. "Let's just say I appealed to his sense of patriotic duty."

"That's right, jail didn't appeal to the man. Yes, he'll get the job done . . . or die trying."

"I'll call you once my team is in position. Stage Two is now a go."

Then Jacobs flicked his phone shut, taking a moment to stare off into the dark night, down the dark road. Moments later he turned, proceeding to his awaiting car, and headed back to Mission Control.
It would be a long drive.

Meanwhile, the boys were having fun. They raced down the two-lane highway unconcerned of any dangers. They weaved in and out of the middle yellow line, pushing a
hundred and ten miles per hour. They were Special Forces - there was no other way to ride.

After twenty minutes the lead bike slowed some. The driver motioned ahead, and the other bikes also slowed. Ahead was a sign. It was weather worn, hard to read:

Jack County: 200 miles.

The men exited the highway. They proceeded down a single strip of roadway. It was much
narrower, darker, and the men had enough sense to slow it down a bit. Out here in the middle of nowhere, there was no telling what dangers lurked. A coyote crossing the road, a hole in the road, anything could spell disaster for the men.

They traveled onward, into the dark of night, into the unknown.

Their travels took them far. The lone road cast far in the distance. The moonlight illuminated their way.

The team rode onward, cautious, prodding forward, on a mission to the unknown.

Finally, they made it. Passing another sign, this one even more run down, the trio knew they had entered Jack County. The ride had been uneventful.

It was late. Therefore, they were somewhat surprised at what they saw ahead. A hundred yards in the distance was a lone gas station. It sat right off the road. It had a few flickering lights, and for a moment, the team thought the place was closed.

As they appeared closer, they realized it was in fact full of patrons. The gas station had four pumps. Only three were cast under light. Thirty feet away was a rundown building that would have never passed code enforcement in the city. Large, dirty windows allowed them to see inside. The motion of the customers wandering around inside surprised the men as they neared.

The three pulled up to the nearest pump. They remained seated, engines idling loudly. They took their time assessing the situation.

Two cars and a blue van were parked in front. Across the gravel parking lot were another half dozen cars, two semis, and at least twenty-five motorcycles. Two men stood guard next to the parked bikes, and immediately glared at the three men.

"Cut
'em off," LT said, flicking the switch and killing his bike's engine. The others did the same. "Looks like we aren't the only bikers in these parts," he stated, staring across the lot. He made eye contact with one of the men guarding the bikes. As LT stood up, dismounting his bike, he waved friendly like to the stranger.

"No trouble," Red warned. "We're not here for a fight."

LT turned, looking at Red, saying, "Now you've gone and hurt my feelings. I'm just being friendly. Ya know, fellow riders just offering some good will."

"
Whatever," Red stated. "You're starting something. And maybe your hearing has gone, but the Commander warned us. Said no trouble."

"Ya, I don't remember that. Guess my hearing is going to hell."

"Eyesight, too?" Red commented. He motioned to the two men across the lot, adding, "Guess you can't see their jackets either. Those tough looking hombres are wearing patches. I'm guessing they're no one per-centers, either. By the looks of them, I'd say a Hispanic biker gang."

"How cute," LT said with a grin. He motioned for Red and Whisky to remain, and turned, walking toward the entrance to the gas station. He fully expected it to have a name like Early's. It didn't.

LT passed the pumps. He strode on, keeping a careful eye on the two men in the distance without being obvious. They remained still, watching him. LT walked past the nearby parked cars, then to the doorway of the gas station. He entered.

Ching-ching.

LT entered the small room. Instantly, he scoped everything and everyone out. The walls were blue. The inside had six rows, each neatly stocked with overpriced snacks. On the walls were massive coolers containing a wide variety of drinks. The majority were beer and wine. Inside there were a handful of people, mostly men. The place went silent at the sight of LT, and at first he wondered why. Guess it's how it is in small towns, he told himself, uncaring.

He stepped fully inside, allowing the door to close behind him. He then proceeded toward the cashier stand, located to his left. It held a variety of items, chewing gum, cigarettes and dip, condoms and batteries. There was an ancient looking cashier machine, and next to it was a
tabletop fan, whirling loudly from side to side.

Behind the counter was a man. He was perhaps in his mid-forties. His hair was jet black, and
he looked as if he used a quart of oil in his hair, which was slicked back. He reminded LT of that old movie, The Outsiders.

The man was half turned, looking up to the adjacent wall, watchin
g a small television with bad reception. He was sweaty, thin and had bad teeth, and as LT neared, the man hardly received him.

"How's it going, friend?" LT asked, cheerfully. He remembered the Commander's words, and kept it friendly.

"Ah'yup," the man mumbled, glancing at LT before turning back to his game show.

LT waited a moment. He supposed customer service skills weren't required to work a gas station after midnight in Jack County.

"You the manager?" LT asked.

"Nah."

"Okay, well is the manager in?" LT asked.

"Nah."

LT stared silently, choosing not to indulge the man in such games. Instead, he reached into his pocket, pulling out a wad of bills.

That got the attendant's attention. The man turned from his television, and asked, "How can I help you? If you're looking for Rosie's, it's further down the road."

"Rosie's?"

"Tittie bar," the attendant replied, gesturing outside, down the road. "That way.
'
Bout seven miles. It's the only one in these parts. Not many lookers there, either. And for the price of admission Hank is charging, I'd say it's not worth it. Besides, it's only topless. In this day and age, who goes to a titty club that ain't fully nude?"

"Ah, gotcha," LT nodded. "I'm not looking for a strip club."

"I see," the attendant replied, clicking his teeth and looking LT over. He was sizing up the man. "You ain't from these parts, are ya?"

LT grinned, saying, "How'd you know?"

"Guess it's a gift. I can always tell the locals from the outsiders. Though truth be told, there ain't many outsiders in Jack County."

"Why's that?"

"Sonny, you ain't been here long I guess."

"Just arrived. Why?"

"Place used to be nice, but things have changed. It’s a barren, evil place. Can't ya tell?" the attendant asked, eyes wide.

"
Didn't notice. Nice scenery on the ride here," LT said. "I've always been fond of country roads. But you're right; I'm not from around here. Very astute of you."

"Very what?"

"Don't worry about it. I'm just a stranger, passing through. Saw your establishment and figured I'd stop. Riding with my two friends. See them?" LT asked, continuing small talk and pointing outside.

The attendant squinted, looking through the dirty window to the two motorcycles parked by the pump.
"Ah, yes, I do see them. Friends of yours?"

"Yes, that's what I said.

"They ain't local either. I can tell."

"That's right," LT said, agreeing and nodding his head. "You have a gift, right?"

"Sure do. But also, I haven't seen you boys ever before. I'd remember you, too."

"Would ya now? Is it my good looks or my charm?" LT asked.

"Don't know what yer getting at, stranger. I don't swing that way. The porno store up highway 72 might be able to help ya. Lots of truckers stop there."

This time, LT laughed out loud. He couldn't help himself. "I'm fine, really."

The attendant nodded, eyeing LT carefully, saying, "Whatever floats yer boat. I don't judge a man. Not in these parts. Around here, stranger things are known to happen."

"Oh?" LT questioned, raising an eyebrow. He leaned in, lowering his voice. His friendly smile remained on his face. "Like what?"

The attendant, who wore no nametag, nor offered his name, seemed responsive. He hadn't talked to anyone in a while, LT could tell. Most probably didn't take the time to chat with a gas station attendant.

"You see, in these parts, lots of strange things go on.
People stay indoors since all the odd stuff been going on 'round. Half the time I'm bored outta my mind. Talking to travelers has its perks and all, but sometimes it gets boring. I suppose that's how it all starts. Boredom."

"Fair enough," LT said, nodding. "Like what?" he questioned again.

"Well, the men screw each other's wives. They also drink and fight. Oh hell, do they like to fight in Jack County. Lots of farmers and people who can hardly get by. It does something to them. Causes them to do odd things. Some like them homosexual relationships. Figured that's what you were hinting at."

"Hell no," LT responded with a laugh. "Not my style."

"Mine neither. I go to Rosie's once a week. Can't afford a blowjob, but sometimes I get a hand job if I bring enough cash. Right under the table. Darlene will whack me off if I'm fast enough. I throw her a few bucks to feed her habit. Meth. It's common around here too."

"I see. Sounds like you have it all in Jack County."

"And then some, mister. Say, where ya headed? Ever since that new highway went through north of here, we don't see many visitors. You lost?"

"No, we're not lost. We are traveling to Jack County. Just got here."

The attendant looked at LT as if he'd just seen a ghost. Shaking his head, the man leaned close, lowering his voice. "Why you here, man? This place ain't no good for strangers. Outsiders ain't welcome. What's your business here?"

LT stood up straight, saying, "My business isn't any of yours."

"Then what you want from me, mister? Making small talk as if trying to buddy up. I may be country, but I ain't no dummy. What you want?"

"Was just shooting the
bull. What I want is to fill up. Maybe grab a Gatorade before hitting the road.

We still have some riding to do." LT unfolded his wad of cash, tossing three twenties onto the co
unter.  "This should fill us up."

"Want change?"

"No. Keep it. Spend it on Darlene. Maybe she'll give you that blow you're looking for."

The attendant laughed loudly. His voice filled the room. It sounded like a witch's cackle. "Hardly. Darlene humors me cause I know Hank. But
hey, she just might give me a whacking with lotion this time. Thanks mister! I don't mean being rough over the edges. Just . . . well, outsiders don't belong here is all. It ain't safe to travel through Jack County."

"Do tell why."

"Mister, you don't want to be here. Lots of bad things in Jack County. If you do have business here, make it quick and get out. Ain't nothing in these parts to protect you."

"Protect me? Why do I need protecting?"

"Because the land here is spoiled. It's sour. God left these parts, mister. He left and he ain't coming back. Something here pissed him off, and I think the man upstairs turned his back on Jack County. If your business ain't important, I'd fill up and turn around."

"Can't do that," LT said. "Guess I'll have to take my chances."

The attendant sighed. "I hope your soul is ready, mister. It better be. Because what lurks in these parts will eat it up and spit it out. The land here is sour. Tainted. The locals know. They know not to mess with what they don't understand. It's always the outsiders who come looking for trouble. And even if they ain't looking, trouble seems to find them. There used to be good folk here and fertile land. But an evil dun ruined that a few years ago. All them good people gone and all the land is spoiled."

"Like I said, I'll be careful." LT turned to leave. He paused, then turned back to face the man. "You mentioned men doing strange things in Jack County. Cheating spouses. Fights. Other things. Why do you think that is?"

"Cause there ain't no good souls left in Jack County. Everyone here just exists, not living. They do what makes them feel good, and they make sure to lock their doors at night. Those are the two rules everyone minds in these parts. I'd suggest you mind them too. Stay off the roads at night. Lock your doors. And if you care about your soul, make peace with your maker."

"I'm not the religious sort," LT said.

"Don't matter if you are or aren't. What does matter is that you were warned. Turn around and get out of Jack County."

LT nodded, taking a final look around the store, then replied, "Have a good night." Then, he promptly walked out the door, into the silent night.