Ash Return of the Beast

CHAPTER 75



When they reached the ladder at the trapdoor beneath the Inner Sanctum, Kane didn’t waste a moment. He grasped the handrail and started to pull himself up, eager to sink a couple of rounds into the Beast.

Ravenwood grabbed his arm and stopped him. She spoke in a forced whisper. “Wait. Let me go up first.”

“The hell. It’s my daughter he’s threatening. I’m taking the son of a bitch out, now.” He pulled away from her and got one foot on the ladder before she pulled him back again.

Her eyes were stern. “I don’t know what the ramifications of this will be when it’s over,” she said. “But I’m in a better position than you are to establish a cover story that will protect both of us. Trust me. I’ve been in situations like this before.”

“The hell are you talking about? Protect us from what?”

“A murder charge.”

Kane snorted. “Self defense.” He started up the ladder again.

She yanked him back. “Yeah? And how’re you going to explain that to anyone? That might be Crowley up there but all anyone is going to see is the body of a dead rock star with your bullet in him and no evidence to show he was any kind of a threat to you or anyone else. Think about it.”

“F*ck.” He spat the word out and stepped aside. “All right, goddamn it. Go!”

Ravenwood hurried up the ladder with Kane on her tail. She raised the trapdoor just enough to peek through the shallow opening.

The room was dark except for the undulating glow of the candles surrounding the Lucifer Seal. The large desk partially blocked her view but she could see part of the silhouetted figure sitting at the center of the circle of light. He was facing the opposite direction. That much, at least, was in her favor.

She had to assume he must be aware of her presence. So why was he not trying to stop her? Was she stepping into a trap? She glanced over her shoulder at Kane who was breathing down her neck, eyes glaring, urging her to get on with it.

She breathed deeply, cautiously pulled herself up onto the floor and remained in a crouched position. The air was charged with energy, palpable, heavy. The walls were alive in a silent dance of shadow and light. A wave of anxiety swept through her. She shook it off as Kane came up and crouched beside her. She pointed toward the desk. They crawled across the floor and hid behind it, their target a mere ten feet away on the other side. In a few moments it would all be over.

With a firm grip on her firearm, Ravenwood looked at Kane. He readied his own gun, as backup, and gave the nod.

Together, they slowly rose to their feet. Each of them drew a bead on the target. Ravenwood held her breath, her finger on the trigger, ready to squeeze off the shot. Telling the Beast to go to hell seemed like an appropriate send-off. She projected the thought with all the mental power she could muster. Vete al Diablo, a*shole.

The silhouetted figure turned suddenly, faced them, eyes shining white from deep within the shadow of the hooded cloak. Then the teeth showed, grinning, gleaming. The candles flared like hissing serpents spitting fountains of fire into the air. The Lucifer Seal erupted into a circle of flame surrounding the Beast.

Blinded by the pyrotechnic display, Ravenwood and Kane fired simultaneously, unloading a barrage of bullets like someone cranking a goddamn Gatling gun. The room quaked from the earsplitting bursts. The two shooters dropped down behind the desk and shoved another clip into their weapons. Ravenwood’s heart was pounding. Kane’s adrenaline was rushing like high-octane pumping through a fuel- injected engine. Leaning back against the desk, they gave each other a nod and returned to their firing position.

The moment they stood up, they were blinded by an enormous blast of light from the center of the Lucifer Seal. The force of the explosion lifted them off their feet and they tumbled backward onto the floor. In the next instant the entire room was engulfed in flames.

Kane rolled over, groaning from the fall. He scanned the room, looking for Ravenwood. The smoke was burning his eyes, everything was on fire. He called her name but there was no response. He struggled to his feet, shielding his face from the heat of the fire and called out again. He heard a moaning sound and spun around. She was lying on the floor next to the wall. He moved quickly through the flames, grabbed her up and carried her over to the trapdoor.

“Ro! Can you hear me? Can you stand?”

She nodded. Her eyes were half closed, her voice weak. “I think so, yeah.”

He set her down and guided her into the opening in the floor. Her foot caught the first rung on the ladder and she managed to make it to the bottom just as a huge, flaming beam fell from the ceiling. It missed Kane but wedged itself crosswise in the opening. There was no way he was going to get through it.

Burning embers showered down on Ravenwood. She looked up and could barely see Kane looking down through the sliver of space between the edge of the opening and the burning beam. “Kane!”

“Go!” he yelled. “Get the hell out!”

“But––!”

“Go!”

Another large object crashed down on top of the opening, blocking it completely. More burning embers were falling down around Ravenwood. The wood framing in the corners of the enclosure were catching on fire. Soon the flames would reach the wooden planks that lined the overhead of the tunnel. The string of lights along the overhead blinked on and off. Tears welled up in her eyes. There was no way Kane was going to make it out of that inferno. She knew she had to save herself while she still had the chance.

When she reached the other end of the tunnel, she stopped in a breathless panic, her eyes wide. The ladder had been badly burned and was still smoldering from the fire. The bottom two rungs were gone and the rest of it was a charred skeleton of its former self. She looked around, desperate to find something, anything to stand on so she could reach the opening. There was nothing. Her only escape route, the hole in the floor just a few feet above, suddenly seemed impossibly distant.

Having no option, she grabbed the blackened rails of the ladder, stretched her right leg up and caught the third rung. She hoisted herself up slowly but the rung cracked and fell away and she went down with it.

She got up, brushed herself off and gazed up at the hole in the floor. “All right,” she said. “Take a breath. You’ve been in worse situations than this.” Even though, at the moment, she couldn’t really think of one. “There’s no way in hell it ends like this.”

She examined the ladder and her eyes focused on the upper portion of the handrail. The top rung seemed untouched by the fire. If she could jump high enough, she might be able to grab it and pull herself up. But her first attempt was unsuccessful. With the second and third, she knew it was pointless. If she only had a rope, she could loop it around the upper rung. My belt! She stripped the belt from her pants and flung it upward, buckle end first, holding onto the other end. Two attempts were all it took. The belt found its mark, draped itself over the rung and dangled down just far enough that she might be able to grab it by standing on her toes.

Stretching upward, every muscle and tendon in her legs quivering from the strain, she managed to grab the buckle and fastened the two ends together. She gave it a tug. It seemed like it would hold. It had to.

She tightened her grip, sucked in a quick breath, and pulled herself up, walking her feet up the wall between the rungs of the ladder. One of the metal brackets, securing the wooden ladder to the wall, popped loose. The loose side of the ladder swung a few inches from the wall and she nearly lost her grip. The whole thing was about to break apart.

With her left hand, she made a quick grab for the charred edge of the frame that bordered the opening in the floor but it cracked and broke away. She nearly fell but managed to hang onto the belt. She swung her arm out again. This time her hand gripped a solid piece of the frame. She froze in position, trying to calculate her next move. If she missed her mark with the other hand, she would fall to the ground and all hope would fall with her.

With a swift awkward twist of her body, she let go of the belt and grabbed for the only portion of the frame that was available. It held firm.

With her fingernails digging into the wood, her dangling legs scrambled to find some footing against the wall. Pure adrenaline came to the aid of her dwindling strength as she somehow pulled herself up and out of the pit. She emerged not into the shed as she had expected, but into the cool, open night air.

Exhausted, panting and resting on her knees, she looked around. The shed had burned to the ground, leaving nothing but the charred remains and a hole in what was left of the floor.

There wasn’t a minute to spare, no time to fully recover her strength. She struggled to her feet and headed off toward her SUV.

She turned, briefly, to look at the old mansion. The fire was spreading quickly throughout the entire structure. The windows glowed red in the dark, glaring down at her like the eyes of an angry demon. It would soon be as dead as the Beast inside––along with the Teddy Bear cop who gave his life to save his daughter.

Ravenwood’s vision became blurred. An emotion rose up from some unfamiliar depth and stuck in her throat. She swallowed hard and continued across the yard.