The Things I Do (Chapter 2-2)

Slade dropped down in the chair next to me, a grin on his face. He held two rifles in his arms, and dropped them on the table with a clatter.

“Mind helping me clean these?” he said.

I pulled a rifle into my lap and immediately began taking it apart. It was a welcome distraction, and at least required some kind of concentration. I had never understood how in movies people could take apart guns and put them back together without even paying attention. It seemed arrogant--one small part in the wrong place and you could end up blowing your hand off. Putting guns back together took focus, and patience. And--

“Are you okay?” Slade asked, pulling me back to the world of reality. “You seem like you got a lot on your mind.”

“Yeah,” I said. I cleaned the long barrel slowly, trying to focus on making it spotless. I put the rifle down on the table. “I’m sorry, why are you here?”

Slade looked up, somewhat startled.

“I mean,” I said, “why did your family come here?”

Slade sighed, then put his rifle down, too. He opened his mouth to speak, but just at that moment Casey, Two-Bit, Melissa, and August walked in, with Gerard bringing up the rear.

“A'richt, here's th' plan: ah say we gang in, fin' th' beastie, 'n' evaluate it fae thare. We dinnae wantae risk scaring th' thing,” Two-Bit said. “We hae na idea whit it's capeable o', 'n' who stairted this hail mess.”

“No, no, no,” Casey said, shaking his head fiercely. “We have to go in with a plan of attack. This is like nothing that we’ve ever handled before.”

“Now just wait a minute, we can’t go in there, guns blazing, and think that we’re going to know how to stop this thing. Two-Bit’s right--we have no idea who started this, and we need to find out,” August stepped in.

Two-Bit gave a small grunt of triumph.

“What are we talking about here?” I said. I stood up from my chair. “Are we going to hunt the thing?”

Casey said ‘yes’ at the same time as August said ‘no.’ The two glared at each other before everyone started talking all at once. All I could catch were snippets of their arguments before one overpowered the other.

“We dinnae ken whaur this thing cam fae, or wha th’ hell raised it up--”

“We need to go about this reasonably. We are down how many people since this whole thing began! We need to fight back! Go at it--”

“If we fight now, we can get the element of surprise. The beast won’t see what--”

“This is a demon! Can’t we just talk about this for one minute before--”

“Ye Swains hae aye bin efter th’ Odins. Ye’r just keeking tae stairt a war! We a’ken it!”

“We don’t even know if it was an Odin who raised this!”

“Just stop! Let’s just think a moment!”

It was the first time in a long while that I felt fear begin to take over. What were we doing? We were fighting like amateurs. We all had no idea what we should do about this new threat; we had never been up against something like this before. My heart pounded heavily in my throat. My fingers tingled slightly and my hands grew hot.

I couldn’t stay quiet any longer. “Stop! Stop it, everyone! You’re acting like a bunch of children! How are we ever going to be able to stop this thing if we can’t even talk about it like we have half a brain?”

To my surprise, everyone stopped talking. They all stared at me with shocked expressions on their faces. I took a small breath.

“Now. Can we all just sit down and discuss this?” I said, anger still boiling in my voice.

Slowly, they all made their way to the table, the Swains sitting on one side and the Guthries on the other. I sat back down in my chair.

“Are we hunting this thing, or just finding it?” I asked.

“Hunting it,” Casey said quickly.

“No,” Gerard said. “If we hunt it and kill it, we’ll have no idea who raised it. We’ll be back at square one.”

“But we need to stop it,” Casey growled. “It’s a demon. What, do you think we can just interrogate it and it’ll kindly give us a name? This is Cruore Occisorum.”

“Aye,” Two-Bit said. “Oor usual interrogating methods wilnae wirk.”

I put my face in my hands. “I’m guessing that’s where the Swains come in.”

“What?” Gerard said sharply. “Torture? That’s what we’re suggesting?”

I dropped my hands. I bit my lip, trying to think of a better way, another option that I hadn’t seen before. I couldn’t.

“Maverick’s right,” Casey said. I thought I saw a hint of a smirk when he looked at Gerard, but just as soon as I saw it, it was gone. “There’s no other way. We have to stop this demon, no matter what the cost. Because if these Wicks succeed and finish the ritual, our lives won’t be the only ones on the line. Millions will die.”

“I don’t like it,” August said quietly. “But right now it’s our only option. We hunt this demon. Tonight.”

“Th’ nicht?” Two-Bit repeated.

“We don’t have much time. The sooner we get a name, the better,” I said.

Gerard stood up from his chair, furious. He tried to say something, couldn’t, then began to pace. He stopped suddenly. “Then who do you suppose we bring with us on this hunting trip? You think we’re going to be able to round up enough people in one day?”

“We will go,” Melissa Swain spoke for the first time. “And Devin, Jamie, and Alison, as well.”

“And I will go,” Slade said. He put his rifle down on the table.

Casey looked sideways at me. “Seeing as Peter is injured, I think it’s only right that Maverick takes his place.”

Secretly, I was happy he said this: I wanted to go. I needed to feel like I was apart of something. And I guess I kind of felt like I had to clean up this mess--it was a Wick who caused this, and it would take a Wick to end it.

“No!” Gerard boomed. “He’s got no part in this. Maverick’s my son, and you have no right, Casey.”

“No,” I said quickly. I looked at Casey. “I want to go.” I looked back at Gerard. “Please, I need to do this.”

“No you don’t,” he said. “I will go. With Two-Bit, Patrick, and August. No one else.”

I stood up again, disbelief and anger bubbling up inside me.

“When will you let me fight?” I yelled at him. “I’m not a kid anymore. I know how to kill demons. I know how to hunt. You can’t keep me from knowing about the Wick world--I’m already a part of it.”

The room fell into tense silence. My hands had formed tight fists at my sides, and I slowly relaxed.

“Okay,” Gerard said slowly. “You’re right. You’re not a kid anymore.”

A part of me wanted to apologize right then and there and tell him that it was okay if I didn’t go. But instead I nodded. I turned to Casey. “I’ll go.”

Casey nodded. “Okay. That’s ten people. I know a group of hunters that live not too far off. I’m sure they’ll be up for the challenge. That’ll bring us up to about twenty. Is that enough?”

“We can only hope so,” August said somberly.

Casey’s group turned out to be a lot more than just ten people; it was more like twenty. There were few families like ours, but every once in a while our paths would cross with a group like theirs. They were called communities: People who knew of the Wick world would band together and form their own hunting parties. They were usually unsuccessful, at least at first, but with experience and numbers they would grow more and more successful. It’s hard to fight Wicks with a smaller group like ours--too many would be lost. But we never joined a community. The Guthries were from a strong line of hunters, and I obviously wouldn’t be able to blend in with the communities, either. Too many people was dangerous for me.

A big man with a grizzly beard slinked over to our party with a grin.

“Casey Swain,” he said, shaking his hand. He briefly glanced at me, then at August behind me. His eyebrows shot up. “And the Guthrie clan, too!” He let out a low, bellowing laugh.

August shook his hand, smiling. “And who might you be, sir?”

“The name’s Gale Landau,” he said. “It’s honestly a pleasure to be working with ya. I’ve heard much--all good things, all good things! You Guthries helped a friend of mine down in Arizona. He had a nasty problem with those Wicks about two years ago. Much thanks, for helping him out.”

“Not a problem,” August said. “I’m August,” he gestured to me. “This is Maverick, and we have Gerard, Patrick Lawson, and Two-Bit Montgomery over there.”

“Maverick, eh?” Gale said, leaning over me. I leaned backward.

“Yes, sir,” I said. He shook my hand. I moved to pull my hand back, but he held firm. I looked inquisitively up at him.

“You’re pretty young,” he said. “Say, were you the kid my friend was talking about? You are, aren’t ya!” He beamed at me. “He told me you had some serious skill. I’d be an honor to hunt this demon down with ya. What do ya say?”

I recoiled, embarrassed. Me? He thought I had skill? I was used to being compared to Gerard and Patrick. No one had ever said I was necessarily talented at this.

“Uh, sure,” I said uncertainly.

He erupted into a big-bellied laugh. “Oh, thank ya. Thank ya, son.”

He finally released my hand, and I pulled it away quickly. I was suddenly anxious about the coming hunt.

No one had said anything, but suddenly everyone began shuffling toward the house.

“Come on, Maverick,” Gale said in a rumbling laugh. He gestured for us to follow.

The inside of the house was rather large, with only a tall table for furniture. The community members stood on the outsides, leaving the table absent. Gale guided me forward and stood at the head. August and Gerard stood on one side, with the Swains on the other. I followed their lead and stood between Two-Bit and Patrick. I noticed that Alison and I were the youngest people there.

As if sensing my thoughts, Patrick leaned over and said, “the communities have a rule: You have to be at least twenty in order to go on a hunt.”

I nodded, but I didn’t understand. They already know about the Wick world--why wouldn’t they be able to fight? If you knew that there were people who raised demons, wouldn’t you want to stop them?

“Hush, now!” Gale thundered. The people immediately fell quiet. “Among us are two great families of hunters: the Swains, and the Guthries. We have been asked to help them hunt down a particularly powerful demon. No one will judge you if you do not wish to take part--just leave now.”

No one moved. After a moment, Gale grinned and nodded.

“Very well. Gerard Guthrie, would you care to explain the situation?” Gale gestured to Gerard, who nodded gravely.

When he started talking, things seemed more real, more threatening. The air felt tense. “Listen. This is not your usual hunting trip. The threat is real. I won’t lie to you--I would be surprised if we get away without a scratch. This demon has been raised in an attempt to start the ceremony you have come to know as the Blood of the Dead ritual, Cruore Occisorum.”

A hushed whisper rippled through the crowd. I saw a few people make the hand of the cross. Lot of good that will do them, I thought.

“Quiet, now!” Gale boomed. “This is what you’ve signed up for. Now these two families have come to us for help. This is our duty.”

August stepped forward. “The ritual can only be completed with the Book of Odin. The book has been kept safe in our family for years, and I don’t plan on these Wicks taking it any time soon, but we have to stop them before anyone else gets hurt. To do that, we need to find who raised the demon to begin with. We are not going to dispatch the demon--we are going to catch it.”

To my surprise, no one said anything. Everyone stood in stark silence. A chill went down my spine as the truth dawned on me: They were soldiers. Everyone in the community was a soldier in the war against Wicks. That’s why they didn’t let anyone younger the twenty years old fight.

Gale nodded curtly. “Thank ya, and God be with you,” he said to the crowd. Obediently, they flooded back outside. I followed behind them and clambered into Patrick’s truck next to Two-Bit. Gerard slid into the passenger seat, and we headed out.

Clyde Wilkins was last seen at the Bell Isle Marina in Hampton, Virginia. As we pulled into the lot, I could see why: Abandoned boats lined the docks on either side of the stretch. To the left stood a tall, darkened fishery. Besides our hunting party, there was no one around for miles.

I stepped out of the truck and crinkled my nose at the smell. Flies buzzed around my head and I batted them away impatiently. I looked up into the broken windows of the fishery, towering above me, and froze. Something moved in the window.

“Hey,” Gerard called softly. He followed my gaze, knowing that I had seen something. I felt it--something dark, and cold. The very air it breathed seemed to crawl, and I knew that whatever it looked like, the thing we would find was not Clyde Wilkins.

Gerard reached across the tailgate and handed me a shotgun. I took it reluctantly; I preferred the lighter, faster blades of a knife. But there was no way that I would go in there unprotected. I checked the clip--it was full. Patrick crossed in front of the truck and stood beside me.

“What’s up?” he whispered. He handed me a small blade.

I took it from his hand and slid it into my belt. “He’s in there,” I nodded at the fishery.

He turned and I grabbed his elbow. “But Patrick--be careful. This feels...different,” I finished feebly.

Patrick gave me a concerned look. He opened his mouth to ask something, but was cut off by a loud, throaty roar. It was so loud that I dropped my gun and put my hands over my ears. I could see the rest of the group doing the same. The scream sounded inhuman--it sounded like a scream that would come from something that crawled from the very bowels of hell, something that was so unloved, so dark and loathsome that even Satan himself would beg the beast go away and lock it in the lowest pit of evil whence it came from. I faintly heard the sound of glass shattering, and I ducked down just before glass sprinkled onto my back.

Then, just as soon as it had begun, the roar stopped.

I looked around, slowly lowering my hands from my ears. Slade met my eyes and nodded. He dropped his hands, and I noticed that his ears were bleeding.

“Well, I think it knows we’re here,” Gale said, trying to be cheerful but instead just sounding depressed. He stood up, brushing the glass from his back and I did the same.

The windows had been shattered--the passenger and driver windows of August’s truck, and at least three other trucks. Glass lay all over the road, and it crunched underneath Gerard’s feet as he made his way toward me.

“No sense in staying quiet about it, then,” Gerard grumbled. “Come on. Get into your teams.”

Everyone scurried around and got together in smaller groups of five or six. It was decided that we worked better this way, rather than in one massive group, and we could cover ground faster.

I was with Gale, Casey, and two other community members. They both had dark hair and looked like they were in their mid-twenties. I wondered absently if they were related. But what I was really thinking about was the fact that I was alone with Casey.

I looked back over my shoulder and met Gerard’s steely gaze. He knew instantly what kind of danger I was in--danger of being found out. I was alone with Casey. With just one look, though, I knew what Gerard would tell me: Buck up, and don’t mess up. One wrong move and Casey would know I was a Wick.

I took a deep breath and turned back to my team. The community boys were loading their guns. The younger-looking one watched me with a weird look in his eye.

“Hey,” he said, sticking out a hand for me to shake. “It’s a real pleasure getting to work with a Guthrie. You guys are legendary. You’ve done some fine good work.”

He grinned a toothy smile, and I shook his hand. “Uh, thanks.”

“You’re Maverick, right?” the other community boy said. His voice was harsh, and quick, and unlike the other boy, he wore a permanent scowl on his face. He didn’t wait for a response. “I’m Anthony, this is my brother, Josh.” He looked me up and down. “You look pretty young. Is this the one you were talking about, Gale?”

Gale beamed. “It sure is.”

“Are you sure he can lead us?” Anthony asked skeptically.

“Tony!” Josh said sharply.

“I just want to be sure I don’t get killed by this demon all ‘cause some kid didn’t know his left from right,” he replied stubbornly.

I stared hard at him. “Trust me, I know my way around.”

I heard a low, familiar whistle. I turned around, slowly taking my gun out in front of me and aiming it toward the ground. I locked eyes with Gerard once again.

He slunk over to me in the way that only Gerard could do, his group following behind. He had six, including himself, in his team, all of which were about his age. They looked tough, and experienced. After hunting for a while, you notice that everyone has different mannerisms as they’re getting ready for the hunt. Patrick will start pacing, and won’t stay still--I could see him just out of the corner of my eye, jostling his leg up and down. August will get this real serious look about him, and will check and recheck his chambers on his beloved guns. Mostly Gerard just got real quiet-like, and a sort of calm serenity washes over his face.

Nothing makes me feel more alive than the hunt.

“Are you ready?” Gerard asked me. I nodded once, shortly. He could sense my nervousness. He placed a hand on my shoulder and gave it a small squeeze.

I took a deep breath. “Let’s do this.”