American Monsters

  She saw no point in lying. “Yes,” she said.

  “You are impatient,” said Astaroth, “yet, to me, not even a moment has passed since your parents were born. You place far too much importance on the passage of time, as if time has any bearing on this place, or those who dwell here. Your parents will not escape me. That is all you need to know.”

  Amber bowed. “Yes, Lord.”

  “There is something else you wish to say.”

  She looked up. “My Lord?”

  “Speak, girl.”

  A hesitation. “I’ve been carrying out my duties, my Lord, but on occasion I’ve had to call on the extra strength you provided in order to do so.”

  “You have been consuming the vials of my blood.”

  “Yes.”

  “How many?”

  “Two, my Lord.”

  “And you want more.”

  “No, my Lord, actually, I … I don’t. Your blood makes me stronger and it’s … intoxicating, but I’ve been, uh, I’ve been seeing things. And hearing things. Hallucinations. I was—”

  “You worry that you may be losing your mind,” said Astaroth.

  “Yes, my Lord.”

  Astaroth smiled. “You are my representative. As such, you must be open to different ways of thinking, to new ways of processing information. My blood is helping to expand that capacity.”

  “So I’m not going crazy?”

  “Oh no, you most definitely are. But, as long as you stay useful to me, you will remain alive.”

  “But … but Lord Astaroth …”

  “Begone, little creature,” said the Shining Demon, turning to Axton. “I have other matters to attend to.”

  Amber hesitated, but left before Axton started screaming. She didn’t like the screaming.

  AMBER RETURNED TO THE wall behind Walmart, and the circle of fire around her died and she stayed where she was, her hands curled into fists. Bright light raked the air in rhythmic sweeps, announcing the presence of the Kingston Valley Fire Department. Right about now, perhaps, they were discovering the eyeless remains of the security guard inside, or maybe they were gazing in puzzlement at the dozens of little furry bodies lying in pools of water and whiskey.

  Amber left them to it. She didn’t know what happened when the civilian world encountered the horrors of the Demon Road. She didn’t know who they called or what they did. She didn’t care.

  She hopped the wall, made for the Dodge Charger parked by the kerb. The trunk popped as she neared and she reverted. Gone was the six-foot, red-skinned goddess, and here was her shorter counterpart, the girl with her brown hair in tangles and her belly stretching her tank top. Her face lost the high cheekbones and the perfect nose and the plump lips as it settled into its normal, less beautiful shape. Months ago, this reversion would have depressed her, but these days there was someone out there, a girl with tattoo sleeves and a smile as wicked as her sense of humour, who found this version of Amber quite beautiful indeed.

  The thought of Kelly made Amber smile. But then she remembered their last conversation, when Kelly had found out that Amber had agreed to become the Shining Demon’s representative, and the smile faded and died.

  She opened one of her bags, took out sweatpants and a T-shirt, pulled them on over her activewear. Then she rooted around for her phone, finding it right at the bottom. She’d had it for three weeks and already the screen was cracked. She stuffed it in her pocket, closed the trunk and got in the Charger.

  “All done?” Milo asked as he turned the key. The Charger started with a roar.

  “Of course,” she said.

  They headed away from the flashing lights. “He say anything of note?”

  Amber shook her head. “Not really.”

  “Did you tell him what’s bothering you?”

  “He’s not my therapist.”

  “Did you mention the hallucinations?”

  “I did. He said it’s to be expected.”

  “So it’s a side effect he didn’t bother to tell you about?”

  “We didn’t really have time to go into specifics, Milo. The blood makes me stronger, but it also does other things. He says it opens me up to a new way of processing information.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “I don’t know.”

  Milo didn’t say anything for a bit. “The blood is dangerous. You’ve had, how many, two vials so far, since we left Desolation Hill? So that’s two in four weeks.”

  “The situation called for it each time.”

  “I’m not disagreeing. You last drank a vial four days ago. Have you had any hallucinations since then?”

  Amber looked out of the window. “No,” she said.

  “You haven’t even been hearing things?”

  “I told you, Milo, don’t worry about me. We don’t need to worry about the blood, all right? Astaroth said so. He said no more hallucinations. He said I’m fine. So now the only thing we have to focus on is hunting down my parents.”

  “And breaking your contract with Astaroth,” Milo said.

  She sighed. “Yes. That too. Could you stop lecturing me now? You’re not my actual uncle, you know. We just say that so people won’t look at us weird. I don’t need a lecture, I don’t need to be mollycoddled, and I certainly don’t need to be reminded of how much trouble I’m in.”

  “Okay.”

  “Can we get off that topic now?”

  “Sure thing.”

  “Thank you.”

  “So how is the boss?”

  Amber’s temper flared, but she kept it down. “Can we please not call him that?”

  Milo glanced at her. “What are we supposed to call him?”

  “Astaroth. The Shining Demon. A Duke of Hell. The Great Burning Asshole. I don’t care, just not the boss. Why are you giving me a hard time about this? It’s your fault that I’m working for him in the first place. If you hadn’t got yourself caught, I’d never have had to trade my servitude for your life. I saved you, and all I get from you is grief. Jesus Christ, I do not need this.”

  They drove on in silence for a bit. It was nice, the silence, but then Milo had to go and ruin it.

  “Ever think that maybe you shouldn’t have saved me?” he asked. “Ever think that maybe I deserved to be in Hell after all the innocent people I killed?”

  “No, Milo,” she said, feeling stupid for losing her temper, “I didn’t. You lost your way. You sold your soul to the Whispering Demon, whatever his name is—”

  “Demoriel.”

  “Whatever. You sold your soul to him – you must have had your reasons – and he made you a demon. The people you killed when you were the Ghost of the Highway, they … they …”

  “Are you going to tell me they don’t count, just because I can’t remember them?”

  Amber sighed. “No, I’m not going to say that. Obviously, they count. Obviously what you did was … was evil. But that was twelve years ago. You’ve changed. And I’m sorry if you think I should have let Astaroth hand you over to Demoriel for ten thousand years of torture while Astaroth tortures me, but I don’t, and, while I’m paying your salary, you will do what I—”

  “You haven’t paid me in over four weeks.”

  “Really?”

  “Really. I’m not sticking around because of the money. I’m sticking around because I promised Imelda that I’d keep you safe, and because I’m not going to just abandon you when you need backup.”

  “Oh. Well, thank you. I’m not going to abandon you, either.”

  “Right.”

  “So it looks like we’re stuck with each other.”

  “Yes, it does.”

  “So can we stop talking about this now? It’s late, I’m tired, and I’m cranky, and I’ve still got bogle juice on my belly.”

  “I thought you said they didn’t lay their eggs on you.”

  “Yeah, well,” she replied. “I was just trying to make you feel special.”

  They drove to the very outskirts of Kingston Vall
ey, and pulled in at the Catching Z’s motel, an L-shaped building with a diner out front. The Charger rumbled as they passed a massive old truck cab occupying two disabled parking spots, and they parked up near the manager’s office.

  They each grabbed their overnight bags and headed inside, found the manager reading a battered paperback behind the counter. He had large ears. The rest of him failed to register with Amber because of the largeness of his ears. They were very large ears.

  “Two rooms, please,” Milo said. Amber dropped her bag at her feet and put the money on the counter.

  A girl came in – pretty, blonde, around Amber’s age. She stood beside them at the counter, picked up a brochure and flicked through it.

  “You have room service?” she asked the manager when he came back with the keys.

  “Sorry?” the manager said.

  “Room service,” the blonde repeated. “Do you have that here?”

  “Uh no.”

  “So I’d have to leave my room in order to get food? I don’t know, man. Seems like a lotta work. Why don’t you do room service?”

  “We, um, we don’t have a kitchen.”

  “All I’d be looking for would be a sandwich or something. You can make a sandwich, can’t you? You don’t need a kitchen to make a sandwich.” The girl sighed. “I don’t know. I like the look of the place. It’s nice. It’s got a nice ambience. I like what it’s called. Catching Z’s. But the room service thing … that might be a deal-breaker.” She drummed her fingers on the counter as she made up her mind. “Listen, I’ll check with some of the other motels in the area, and if they don’t do room service, either, I’ll come back here. How about that?”

  The manager nodded dumbly, and the blonde picked up her bag and walked out.

  “Takes all kinds,” Amber said to the manager, but barely got a grunt in return.

  Milo leaned a little closer. “You realise she took your bag, right?”

  Amber looked down at the space her bag had been occupying. “Ah balls.”

  AMBER HURRIED OUT OF the motel office, caught a glimpse of the blonde disappearing round the corner. There was no one else around so she shifted. She ran to the Charger, jumped and got a foot on the edge of the hood, then sprang, reaching the roof of the motel. She kept low as she jogged across the rooftop, anticipating the blonde’s path. She dropped down the other side, reverted to normal, and waited a few seconds, until she heard running footsteps. Then she stepped out and the blonde shrieked and leaped backwards, lost her footing and fell.

  “I think you have my bag,” said Amber, looking down at her.

  “Holy crap!” the blonde said, not even trying to get up. “How did you do that? You nearly gave me a heart attack! How did you do that?”

  Amber picked up her bag. “This is mine.”

  The blonde lay back, flattening herself out on the ground. “My nerves are shot. Gimme a second.”

  Amber couldn’t help but smile. “You okay?”

  “No. I’m really not.”

  “Sorry for scaring you.”

  “You should be.”

  “But you did steal my bag.”

  “That doesn’t give you the right to scare me.”

  “Kinda does, though.”

  The blonde sighed, then sat up. “You’re lucky I didn’t pee myself.”

  “I think you’re the lucky one in that regard.”

  “These are my only pants. You’d have had to buy me a new pair.”

  “I don’t think I would have, but okay. Do you need a hand?”

  “I don’t accept charity.”

  “I meant, do you need a hand up?”

  “Oh. No, but I’ll take some charity if you have any.” She got up, rubbed her butt. “That hurt. You’re faster than you look.”

  “I’d have to be.”

  “So what are you gonna do? Turn me in?”

  Amber frowned. “Turn you into what?”

  “Turn me in to the cops, dummy.”

  “Oh,” said Amber. “No, not really.”

  “Right,” the blonde said, and looked around. “Then do you want to buy me dinner?”

  “Uh … is this how you treat everyone you steal from?”

  “Just the ones who look like they might say yes.” The blonde grinned. “Go on, say yes. I haven’t eaten all day. Just buy me a burger. A cheeseburger. And fries with ketchup. And a Sprite. And maybe some pie for dessert. And a sandwich to go. You owe me at least that.”

  “I don’t owe you anything.”

  “Shush now.”

  “Listen, I’ve had a long day, and I’m really tired.”

  “Are you hungry?”

  “I … well, yeah, but—”

  “Then it’s settled,” the blonde said, clapping her hands. “I won’t steal your bag and, in return, you buy me food. What a wonderful bargain we’ve struck.”

  Amber said goodnight to Milo, dropped her bag in her room, and joined the blonde girl in a badly upholstered booth in the diner. They ordered, and looked at each other.

  “Name’s Clarissa,” the blonde girl said.

  “Amber.”

  “I like your name.”

  “I like yours, too.”

  “Thanks,” Clarissa said. “It’s not my real name, but I picked it because I always liked it. There was a show I used to watch on reruns, and her name was called Clarissa and she had a happy family and friends and everything, so when I left I said I know, I’m gonna be like her. She always seemed to have her life in order, in a Clarissa Explains It All kinda way.”

  “You ran away from home?”

  “Home is a bit of a stretch. House with abusive stepdad is more accurate. What’s your story?”

  “I guess I ran away, too.”

  “That guy you’re with,” said Clarissa. “Boyfriend?”

  Amber laughed. “No. Friend.”

  Clarissa shrugged. “That’s cool. Must be nice to have someone watching your back.”

  “It is. How long have you been, y’know …?”

  Clarissa widened her eyes, like it was a scandalous notion. “Homeless? A year. Well, just under. It’s really everything you’d expect. You get to sleep under the stars, the world is your bathroom and the people are … peachy. Non-stop fun is what it is.”

  Amber searched for the right words. “I guess you’ve met all kinds on the road.”

  “That I have, Amber,” said Clarissa.

  “Same here. Some of the people I’ve met have been scarier than others.”

  Clarissa nodded. “I can relate.”

  “You meet some real monsters out there.”

  “Yep,” said Clarissa. “Some complete jerks.”

  The drinks came, and Amber watched Clarissa pull the straw out of her glass and gulp the Sprite down. It had been so long since she’d spoken with someone who hadn’t been, as Glen would have put it, touched by darkness, that it now seemed weird to conduct a normal conversation.

  Weird but nice.

  Clarissa drained her Sprite and Amber pushed hers over. “Here. I’m not thirsty.”

  Clarissa didn’t argue, but this time she kept the straw in and sucked at a more civilised pace. “Where you from?”

  “Florida,” Amber said. “Orlando.”

  “Disney World.”

  “Yep.”

  “Always wanted to go,” said Clarissa, “and my dad always said he was gonna take me. But then he got cancer, the kind they don’t cure. And, when he was gone, no one wanted to take me anywhere.”

  “My parents are evil,” said Amber.

  “That must suck.”

  “So must losing a dad you actually love.”

  “Yeah. Anyway, toilet break.”

  Clarissa slid out of the booth. The moment she was gone, Amber’s demon-self slid in. Amber immediately looked at her hands.

  “Think you’ve found a new friend, do you?” her demon-self asked. “I wouldn’t bother getting to know her. She’s going to abandon you. Like Kelly abandoned you, and Imelda abandon
ed you …”

  “Milo’s still here,” Amber muttered, not raising her eyes.

  Her demon-self grinned. “Did you really buy that bullshit? He’s waiting for payday. The moment he gets his money, he’s gone. Just like all the rest. But then they’re the lucky ones, aren’t they?”

  “Shut up,” Amber mumbled.

  “Unlike Glen,” her demon-self continued. “You meet this poor Irish boy in the woods, he thinks you’re going to help him, and what happens? He dies anyway, and comes back as a bloodthirsty corpse. You feel that gnawing sensation, in your belly? That’s what guilt feels like. Honestly, with a friend like you, does anyone really need enemies?”

  Amber looked up to argue, but her demon-self was already gone.

  Clarissa got back just in time for the burgers, and Amber ordered more Sprites.

  “Something happen?” Clarissa asked.

  “Sorry?”

  “It feels like something happened while I was gone. You okay?”

  Amber forced all thoughts of Glen to the back of her mind, and smiled. “Nothing’s wrong,” she said. “Just thinking about stuff, that’s all. So do you have plans?”

  “For world domination?” Clarissa responded with a mouth full of cheeseburger.

  Amber smiled – genuinely, this time. “Or just in general.”

  “Dunno.” Clarissa thought as she chewed. “Wouldn’t call them plans, I guess. More like hopes. Such as, I hope I don’t spend the rest of my life homeless. I hope I don’t die on the streets. I hope I get rich somehow. The usual hopes and dreams and idle fantasies, y’know?”

  “Totally.”

  Clarissa’s burger started to slide out of its bun. She frowned, tried to poke it back in with a French fry, then resorted to using a finger. “What about you?” she asked. “You ran away from home, you’re with a friend who watches your back, you’re staying in motels … You seem to be keeping it together more than most. What’s your plan?”

  Amber looked puzzled for a few moments before she answered. “I … guess I want my freedom back. I agreed to do a job I didn’t want to do, and now I have to figure out how to trick my way out of it.”

  “And how do you manage that?” Clarissa asked.

  “I don’t have a clue. It’s a whole lot of trouble.”

  Clarissa peered at her. “You’re, what, sixteen?”