The Gates (Samuel Johnson vs. the Devil #1)(49)

A series of loud shrieks came from outside and the two coppers watched through a window as the lizard women ascended into the night sky, off to seek easier prey.

“Great,” said Constable Wayne. “The sarge will never believe us now . . .”

? ? ?

Sergeant Rowan had just hit the lights, and Constable Peel was about to put his foot on the accelerator, when Nurd tapped on the sheet of toughened plastic that partially separated him from the men in the front seats. He had heard the exchange over the radio, and he had also noticed some things that the policemen had not. The first were the little tendrils of blue energy that were shooting across a field in the direction of what looked like a nearby church. The second was a small being about two feet in height that appeared to be a yellow ball on legs, although most yellow balls didn’t have two mouths and a multitude of eyeballs. The yellow ball was chasing a rabbit, which jumped down a burrow, the ball in hot pursuit. Unfortunately for the ball, the hole was smaller than it was, and now it seemed to be stuck, its stumpy legs waving wildly.

This isn’t a positive development, thought Nurd. He recalled what Samuel had told him about the woman in the basement, and about her friends who no longer seemed to be human. Nurd had been rather hoping that Samuel was mistaken, or that the four people, or demons, or whatever they were, might just have conveniently vanished, or returned home. Now there were yellow balls with eyes chasing rabbits, which disturbed Nurd greatly. It’s all very well if I’m the only demon here, he mused, but if there are lots of demons, well, then there could be problems. And that blue energy, that wasn’t just regular old electricity, or even transdimensional residue. No, it was energy of a very particular kind . . .

Nurd had once glimpsed the Great Malevolence. It was shortly before Nurd’s banishment, and he had been summoned to the Great Malevolence’s lair to be dealt with by his most trusted lieutenant, the ferocious demon named Ba’al. In the darkness behind Ba’al a huge shape had lurked, taller than the tallest building, wider than the greatest chasm, and for an instant Nurd had seen his face: eyes so red that they were almost black, great fanged jaws, and a horned crown upon his head that seemed to have grown out from his skull. The sight had so frightened Nurd that he had almost welcomed his banishment, for there could have been worse punishments. He could have been taken by the Great Malevolence himself deep into his lair, there to be slowly torn apart for eternity, always suffering and never dying. Compared to that prospect, banishment was a doddle.

But there was one other thing that he recalled about the Great Malevolence: the contours of his body had rippled with blue energy. It was his power made visible, and now it was here. On Earth. Where Nurd was, and, most certainly, was not supposed to be.

“Hello?” he said, knocking on the glass again. “I think there’s been some mistake.”

“Not now, sir,” said Sergeant Rowan. “We’re a bit busy.”

“You don’t understand,” said Nurd. “I’d really like to go home. You can forget about the car. Actually, you can have it. I don’t want it.”

“I’m not sure that it’s yours to give away, sir. Now you’ll have to be quiet. We’re a little concerned about our colleagues at the station.”

Nurd sat back in his seat. “This isn’t a costume,” he said softly, having at last figured out what the word meant.

The two policemen ignored him.

Nurd said it again, louder this time. “This isn’t a costume!”

“Beg your pardon, sir?” said the sergeant.

“Look, I’m not wearing a disguise. This is me.”

“Very droll, sir,” said the sergeant.

“If it was a costume,” said Nurd patiently, “could I do this?”

Nurd’s head split evenly in half down the center, exposing his skull. His eyes popped from their sockets, extended themselves on lengths of pink flesh, and examined Sergeant Rowan very intently. Then Nurd’s skull separated, revealing his brain. It was held in place by twelve curved purple muscles, which immediately stood upright and wiggled. Finally Nurd stuck out his tongue, which was three feet long at its fullest extension. The top of the tongue had a hole in it, through which Nurd played a short fanfare before restoring his head to its regular form.

Constable Peel drove off the road. He braked suddenly, and both he and Sergeant Rowan jumped from the car and backed away from it.

“Sarge,” stammered Constable Peel. “He’s a m—, he’s a mo—, he’s a mons—”

“Yes, he is, Constable,” said Sergeant Rowan, trying to sound calmer than he felt.

“Demon, actually,” said Nurd, shouting to make himself heard. “Don’t mean to be fussy about it, but there’s a big difference.”

“What are you—?”

“Doing here?” Nurd finished for him. “Well, I was going to try to conquer your world and rule it for eternity, but I don’t think that’ll happen now.”

“Why not?” asked Sergeant Rowan, carefully drawing a little closer to the car once more.

“Funny you should ask, but someone else has his eye on this place, and I don’t think he’ll fancy any competition. I’d really prefer not to be around when he gets here, so if you could see your way clear to letting me out, I’ll be about my business.”