Jack County Demons (9 page)

Commander Jacobs paced inside the Control Room. He was on his thir
d cup of coffee, and sipped it furiously. It was his way to ease the anxiety.

"He sees us," Lopez commented.

"Yeah, he sure does," Peters replied.

But Commander Jacobs didn't respond to this. Instead, he said loud
ly, "Will somebody get me some real coffee. Not this ass sweat you bastards make. Dump this swill and get me my blend," he ordered.

One of the other
analysts came rushing up from his workstation. He moved quickly, reaching out to grab the cup from Jacob's hands. Careful not to spill, the man turned around, hurrying out to find Jacobs the right coffee. Satisfied, Jacobs turned around and shouted, "Lopez!"

"Yes, sir, I'm here."

"What are we at? Report!"

"We're at twenty-two percent, sir," she replied,
looking to her monitor.

"Damn!"

"Wait…one, sir," Lopez added. Then, she spoke to Zinman, saying, "Get closer Zinman. No, closer."

Agent Tomohiko added, "Sir, we're down to twenty-two perce
nt. As you know, we won't have enough battery power to make it back to base if we don't turn around now. Sir?"

But Jacobs
didn’t respond. Instead, he continued staring blankly at the huge wall monitor, watching the scene before him.

"Sir?" Agent Tomohiko questioned, clearing his throat. "Twenty-one perce
nt, sir. If we don't bring the bird back, we'll lose a multi-million dollar piece of equipment. And there will be questions, sir. Our cleanup crew can't enter the area. We can't have a downed drone. Not here, not now."

"Fuck!" Jacobs screamed out. He brushed his hand across his desk, spilling all the paperwork that had collected onto the flo
or. Glaring at Agent Lopez, he ordered, "Fine. Agent Lopez, get her home. And do it in one piece."

"Roger, sir. Ascending to . . . wait, sir?" Lopez said.

"What's wrong?" Jacobs asked. "Get our bird out of there."

"Sir, look at the screen," Lopez said, pointing up
from her workstation.

Sure enough, the large wall screen was no longer a crystal clear picture.
It had become full of static, hissing and popping as audio as well as visual were now disabled.

"What happened? Somebody report," Commander
Jacobs insisted.

Everyone went to their terminals, clicking at keyboards, attem
pting to sort out the problem. Lopez looked to her screens, her panels gave her information on the drone she was flying. Then, she realized their plight, and said, "It's done, sir."

"What do you mean, it's done?" Jacobs asked.

"Sir, the battery is gone. We’ve lost our comlink. High bandwidth is gone, low bandwidth is as well. I feel the rudder, but I can't see. I think . . . I think we're in a spin, sir," Lopez said, pulling against the stick, feeling it fight against her.

"Can you get control?" Jacobs asked.

"Negative," Lopez said loudly. "I'm losing control of the aircraft. If I can't get visual, and without battery power, I can't steer. Yes, sir, she's going into a spiral. It's over. Something knocked out our power. The stabilizers are stuck. I think we have damage to the aerilons, too. I can feel it balk when I try to turn. I'm . . . I'm losing control, sir. She's in a flat spin," Lopez reported, all the while fighting the controls in a hopeless battle.

Three minutes passed and the drone finally crashed five mile
s from town. It crashed in the middle of nowhere, and besides the low thud of the impact, there was no sign of anyone knowing of its location.

"Damn, that's not good," Lopez said, looking up to Jacobs. "Commander, so
mething struck our plane. Had to. I had full system control."

"Could the battery have given out?" he asked. "Were our sensors
screwed up?" he asked, hoping there was a logical explanation. Because if there wasn't, he would have to face the fact that the improbable was happening.

"Negative, sir. I was green across the board."

"Damn, " Jacobs said, thinking a moment while scratching his head. He turned to Agent Tomohiko, saying, "Pull up the feed. Bring me the last five minutes of all data. I want systems’ checks and I want all live feeds. All cameras, all angles."

"Think they shot her down, sir?" Tomohiko asked.

"Something like that," Jacobs replied. "We can send astronauts to space, to the moon. Why, one day we'll put people on Mars. So why the hell can't we track these things? This is our third bird down. My bosses aren't too happy to begin with. Now, I'll have to explain what happened."

"Sir, could they have stinger missiles? Could they have
shot her down?" Tomohiko asked.

"No, nothing of the sort. I wish it were that easy. Now get busy. I want
a full report of what happened in ten minutes. Watch the cameras closely, Agent Tomohiko. I think you'll see a huge surprise while viewing them." Jacobs banged the desk once more, rattling everything on it while Tomohiko rushed away. Jacobs then turned, and without saying a word, summoned Agent Barnes from her desk. She stood up, tall and lanky, and hurried down the steps toward him. She was taller than Jacobs, which always made him feel awkward. "Report," he demanded.

"Sir, I found them.
"

"You did?" he asked in disbelief. "Please tell me
you aren't mistaken."

"No, sir, I'm not. They're being brought in now. It took some searching,
but I found them. They were at the Vatican library, just like you said."

"And they didn't give you grief?" he asked.

"Sir, they wouldn't dare allow us in. No matter what we said, the answer was no."

"So how'd you get the books?" he asked.

"Sir, I'm sure you'd prefer to not know the details. Plausible deniability. But we stole them, sir. One of our teams breached the library, and recovered the books. They're being scanned now. I'll have them on your computer shortly."

"Finally," Jacobs said, looking back to the monitor with images of garbled stat
ic on the wall, "finally good news."

LT rested on the ground, seated against the wall inside the church.
He remained in the shadows. He had dozed off a few minutes. Though sleep seemed impossible; his mind and his body had shut down. That's what often happened after combat. It was called an adrenaline dump, and many times the operator experienced extreme fatigue after such high amounts of exertion.

LT blinked his eyes
and looked up. Red and Whisky looked down at him. "Hey boys, good to see you still alive."

"That was some call," Red said, grinning. "If we
hadn’t come inside this church, we'd be dead. How'd you know?"

"Like I said, faith," LT remarked.

"Sure, but we lucked out with the church being here in the first place," Whisky commented.

"Oh, it was no accident," LT said, pushing his knees up and attempt
ing to stand. Red reached out, grabbing his arm and helping him rise. "It was meant to be here. They disappeared at exactly the right place. I can't say that was an accident. I can't say it was fate, either. Sure feels like it, though."

"You getting sentimental on me?" Red asked.

"No, not at all," LT said. "It's just a feeling I can't shake. Now, how long have I been out?" he wondered aloud.

"Maybe an hour," Red said, looking to his watch.

"You check the church?"

"Sure did," Red replied. "We have five people, all over there. The fo
ur women and a priest. Father Rodriguez, that's his name. Older gentlemen. Seems scared, just as they are. They've been holed up here awhile, too. Guess they had the same plan."

"Where are they?"

"There," Red said, pointing.

LT scanned the church. There were high windows along the walls. Rows
of pews, empty. Several trays of votive candles lit the place, the flames dancing around as if scared. On the far side was a high alter. There was a table, a few rows of chairs, and a beautiful gold crucifix proudly displayed high up on the wall. LT saw the four women; kneeled down near the altar, on their knees in front of lit candles. They had their heads lowered, were silent in prayer.

"So, who are they? Nuns?" LT asked.

"No, just people. They just happened to be here when those things showed up. Guess they've been terrorizing this town for a while, now. Things been getting worse, too, and the women thought to make their way to this church. They're riding out the night here. Seems safe enough."

"What's so special about night?"

"I don't know, but maybe he does," Red said, gesturing behind him. There stood an elderly man. He had white hair and was obviously a priest. His attire and mannerisms told the tale. "This is Father Rodriguez, and this is his church."

"This is God's church," the man corrected, stepping forward int
o the light. "And you men were lucky tonight."

"I'd say so. Those things got close to taking us
out," LT said.

"Your bullets won't do anything, sir. I believe you
know this, now."

"Sure do. I hit that bastard square on. At best, it staggered him
some. Now how's that possible?"

"Well, it's because they aren't human," Father Rodriguez stated
. "Now, allow me to explain."

"Please do. Start with those women there. What are they d
oing here?" LT asked, pointing.

"They are here because it's unsafe outside these walls. Unsafe for th
em to remain in their homes at night."

"Safety in numbers
?" LT asked.

"No, safety in geography," the priest replied. "In Jack County, you
ng women are prey to those who chased you here. These women knew this - they were chased themselves. They were lucky, too. They found this sanctuary, and are now safe from their predators."

"At night," LT said.

"That's right. The devil hunts at night. The darkness is his ally. The shadows are his friend."

"And he . . . they
hunt women?"

"Yes, in Jack County, women are hunted. But not all women. Those who have reached womanhood are sought out. Those
who have yet to know a man are their concern."

"Virgins?" Red asked, eyes wide. "You're saying
they're after virgins?"

"That's correct," Father Rodriguez said. "Their purity i
s of tremendous value to the demons."

"Now why is that?" LT asked. He was alarmed, yet
not quiet convinced either.

Father Rodriguez took a deep breath. He looked behind him, at the
praying women, then back to LT and his men. He took a moment to gather his thoughts before explaining. "Years ago, when Lucifer fell, he fell in these parts. His seed was buried deep within the soil. Here in Jack County, the land of good people is the enemy's land. He has existed here all this time. Thing is, this county has always been filled with the religious type. This is Texas, and as you know, home to God-fearing people. That's what has kept him at bay. All this time, the people kept him from escaping through their faith. Also, artifacts."

"Artifacts?" LT questioned.

"That's right. Certain things—crucifixes, idols, books. Over the years, they've been scattered in households all throughout Jack County. These artifacts and this church have been systematically destroyed, though. Over the years, his minions have taken them out. Now, only one remains. A single one."

"And that is?" LT asked,
and then realized the answer.

He looked up, just as the priest was motioning.

"That crucifix," Father Rodriguez said, pointing. "It's been here a long time. That is the last blessed artifact in the entire county. It's what stands between us and the demons. It's what stands between right and wrong, between dark and light. And their only goal is to destroy it. It is what brings us power, and they want it gone forever."

Red spoke out. He couldn't believe he was listening to this, but couldn't help himself. There
was something inside him saying this was a good fight. "So, only these demons can destroy the crucifix?"

"That's right."

"Why haven't they?" Red asked.

"Because to get
to it, they must purify themselves. They do so with virgin blood. And I'm the guardian here. The last defender of the faith. And these women are under my protection. If the demons catch them, all of Jack County will fall."

Red shook his head,
and then chuckled to himself. Looking to LT, he shrugged his shoulders, saying, "You do realize how nuts this all sounds, don't ya?"

"Yeah Red, I sure do."

"And you believe this? You believe this man?"

"I do, Red."