Page 131 of Deliver us from Evil

A spasm goes through the guy’s body, and then he lifts his head. He looks at me, dazed, unfocused.

There’s something wrong with his eye.

Outside, in the hall, someone starts sobbing. Big, heavy,raggedsobs.

It takes me a few seconds to work it out.

Time where I’m holding back the ephemeral agony gouging out my lungs and stomach. Time where I’m moving back, dragging the guy’s stomach over the pale blue carpet. Time where I’m staring at that fucked up eye so I won’t look up again and see Trinity on the bed and lose my shit.

The man twists in our grip. His strength is coming back. There’s a wet slick on the back of his head. Splinters in his hair.

That’s where the broken chair comes from.

“Doorway,” Cass warns. “Take a left, bud.”

I angle out the door.

Apollo’s head is on Rube’s chest. His blond hair shifts with every sob wracking his lean body. He’s hugging Rube with his elbows, hands fisted in Rube’s shirt.

The guy we’re dragging begins fighting us. Cass’s grin turns into a grimace. My arms are starting to burn from the weight, from keeping his ankles clasped when he tries to kick his legs.

He keeps bucking off the floor, forcing us to take his full weight instead of letting us drag him over the tiles. He sends a loathing glare at me over his shoulder, mouth twisted with frustration and fury.

And then I get what’s wrong with his eye.

It happened a few times to Rube, and would always freak me out.

His contact has slipped. Like an eclipse, the dark lens creates a crescent from the lighter iris below.

I almost drop his legs.

But then I think he recognizes me too. And his face loses all color.

I don’t blame him.

He knows what happened to my parents. Fuck, maybe he was even the one who found them.

Were they still in those chairs? No, wait…the chairs must have burned in the fire.

I honestly wish I could have stayed to see their faces.

See how they struggled to get free.

How their skin began blistering from the heat.

Fire cleanses.

It was the only thing that made sense. I was doing them a fucking favor. And, if it didn’t work, then at least they’d already know what Hell felt like before they got there.

I walk faster.

The sirens are so much closer now.

“Hey, easy,” Cass calls out.

So I rip the man’s wrists out of his grip.

There’s no time.

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