Part 2: Uninvited guests and a brief interlude
The chaos of the previous day’s events was still fresh in my mind when I finally opened my eyes the following early afternoon. I had grown so content with my life, that I had almost forgotten how much these things can take their toll. My heart throbbed with the fear of whether or not we would be able to bring our friend home, and I felt little drive to pull myself free from the comfortable hotel bed. Still, I knew that my only chance in finding some semblance of hope would be to put on a brave face and deal with whatever came next.
I headed over to Grant’s room, after taking a quick shower and getting dressed. When I knocked on his door off and on for a few minutes to receive no answer, I just shrugged it off and returned to my room. I had no way of knowing if he had headed out for a bit, or if he may have still been sleeping. I still wasn’t entirely sure what sort of maintenance his ‘husk’ required, but that was the least crucial of the many questions I hoped to be able to ask him someday.
I ordered some room service lunch, while I lounged around my temporary living quarters for a bit. I was still doing my best to force my mind to escape these most recent troubles, as well as those from many years gone by which still cause me to wake in the middle of the night on occasion. I inspected my luggage and coat after feeling the urge to make sure I hadn’t left anything behind, before flipping on the TV to distract myself in any way I could. I was still somewhat mentally vacant as I blankly stared at whatever show had attempted to secure my interest when a veritable pounding on the door caused me to snap back to reality.
“We have to go!” Grant said with his face reddened.
“What’s…”
“Now, Michael!”
I started to head back to the bedroom to gather my things, but he just grabbed me by the arm and pulled me towards the elevator in the center of the hallway. As the door closed before my eyes, I saw several men in suits running toward us.
“What the hell, Grant?” I asked, gasping for breath.
“Safe to say they found us,” he replied, panting a little himself.
“But, they just looked like men, surely you…”
As soon as the door reopened, my friend darted through.
“Hurry, Michael!”
I raced after him towards the front door of the lobby. Just as we cleared the opening, I heard voices shouting after us. I turned to see the six bulky men in black suits, wearing sunglasses and leather gloves, each reaching into their jackets, likely to draw their weapons. Each of the men was quite large, but I was sure I could handle at least one or two of them. Of course, I was certain Grant could take all of them with one hand tied behind his back.
“Where are we going!?” I called out to Grant, who veered away from the parking lot.
“Just trust me!”
I heard the scampering men drawing closer to my rear, while my friend ducked into an alleyway to the left, a good distance from the hotel we had spent the night in. As soon as I rounded the corner, I saw Grant had stopped, but still waved me onward. He practically pushed me behind the dumpster beside him, before taking his place back where he stood in the center of the narrow walkway. Though I assumed his forcing me out of the way was to ensure my safety when our pursuers rounded the corner, I still peered around to see what was happening.
“Get on your knees!” The broad-shouldered guy with the buzz cut in front called out, training his gun on my friend.
“Bad move, buddy boy,” I thought, chuckling to myself as I realized why Grant had led us away from the public.
I watched on while my friend placed his hands behind his back; a stance I had come to see as one that should scare the shit out of those he faced. Though his stature didn’t quite have that same intimidation factor as it did when he wore the pin-striped suit, for some reason, he still appeared as one who should not be fucked with, dressed in his blue flannel shirt and holy jeans.
“How did you locate us?” He said to the man who still yelled for him to drop to the concrete, after reverting to what I have grown to call his ‘down to business voice’.
“Get down on the ground, asshole, or I’m gonna…”
The apparent leader of the flock of well-dressed men fell silent to the tune of a quick succession of snapping sounds, which echoed against the walls of the slender alley. It was nothing as dramatic as you see in movies; it wasn’t as if his head suddenly spun in place to face those who stood behind him. It was more like his eyes grew wide for a second before life drained from his face, and he just hit the ground.
I couldn’t honestly say which of his bones broke with the flick of my friend’s wrist, but they put an end to the bastard before he could even finish his words. Of course, it may well have been every single bone in his body, as he dropped like a sack of jello. Either way, this inspired the almost too predictable actions of the man’s associates; to open fire on Grant. Once upon a time, this would have terrified me, but now it only brought something of a smile to my face.
After each bullet drilled into my friend, he fell motionless to the concrete. I felt my heart skip for a second, but it was swiftly put back to rest when Grant gave me a wink from where he lay, supposedly bleeding to death. Clearly, he wanted to blow off some steam and maybe have a little fun with these men. I suppose I couldn’t blame him, as there’s no telling how many innocent lives could have fallen victim to what these individuals had in store for us, had we not fled the bustling hotel.
“How did he do that to Clint!?”
“Is he dead?”
“Where’d the other one go!?”
“Go check on that one!”
“Fuck you! You check on him!”
The voices of the five remaining men were erratically talking over each other and, even though each of their guns sounded to have some sort of suppressor attached, I was sure that someone outside the alley could have heard the commotion. When I heard footsteps coming closer to where I still hid, I couldn’t help but find my friend’s imitation of a dead man to be quite convincing. Still, he deserved to enjoy himself a bit. He’d been looking stressed since he arrived at the bar.
As the one who approached nudged Grant with his foot, I almost jumped out of my skin as much as he did, when my friend wrapped his fingers around his ankle. As soon as the man aimed his gun at the supposedly deceased guy on the ground, Grant just raised straight up to a standing position, like Dracula rising from his coffin, still gripping his assailant by the ankle, before slinging him back towards the others.
As I had years before, I watched on while the holes that had riddled my friend’s torso sealed themselves back shut, dropping the spent bullets onto the concrete. Before any of his attackers could fire on him again, a wave of his hand caused the guns to smack against the wall, while the men gazed on with their collective mouths hanging limp.
“Now,” Grant said, still speaking in his upper-class, business voice, “how did you know where to find us, and how many I locate your employer?”
His question was only met with whimpers and begs for mercy, to which he looked somewhat exhausted almost immediately.
“Please stop that. All I need from you is answers; give me that, and I won’t hurt you…”
“P-please…” several voices said, overlapping one another.
“Like I said…answers…that’s all I..oh stop it!”
Grant’s frustration with the five weeping men was only escalating, as they seemed incapable of forming any legible words at the time.
“J-just let us g-gooo…..”
The whining man was silenced when Grant slapped his hands together, before swatting his left upwards, raising the quintet from the ground, back to a standing position. He outstretched his right hand, instantly causing the closest of the men to quickly float towards my friend, who clutched his fingers around the man’s throat when he was close enough.
“Look, mate, you’re gonna give me some bloody answers, or I’m gonna squeeze your neck until your ruddy head pops off, you get me?”
Even I felt my neck tense up when Grant began to lose his cool. As intimidating as his proper voice sounded, him suddenly returning to a very pissed-off limey with unimaginable power was honestly a little terrifying.
“I-I g-get you…” the trembling man with freshly soiled dress pants stuttered through a shallow breath.
Grant released his grip, dropping the man back to his feet, before gesturing for his associates to come closer. They each looked at one another before walking forwards on trembling legs, still whimpering slightly, but seemingly attempting to compose themselves. It would appear they were not quite informed about what they would be facing when they were sent out on this little mission.
“Orchid! Jerimiah Orchid sent…”
“I know who sent you. What I would like to know is where do I find him?”
“I-I can’t tell you that!”
“And why not?”
The man was visibly shivering while his associates whispered their demands that he remain silent.
“H-he’ll kill me…my family…I can’t!”
“Were you not charged with taking me to him anyway?”
“We were supposed to…”
“To kill me?”
The trembling man simply nodded, barely able to control his voice anymore. Grant just stared into his face, not unlike how he did with Chuck back in that ungodly place what felt like decades ago.
“I’m sure, by this point anyway, you know this is something you cannot accomplish, yes?”
He nodded once more with his lower lip quivering.
“I imagine it can be taken for granted that those who sent you here knew this as well, yes?”
Another nod, mimicked by all of the men charged with this ill-fated mission.
Grant smiled at the shaking man, before waving his hand for the others to come even closer. They reluctantly paced forwards again, looking as though they were about to lose control of their senses at any moment.
“Relax, yeah?” Grant said when all had gathered in front of him.
“You guys are just doing a job, I get that, but my friend and I have something of a responsibility to sort this out also,” he gestured with his head for the men to follow him as he walked to where their fallen comrade lay.
When he crouched down beside the man whose twisted body lay still, he lay a hand on his chest, causing the empty shell to twitch and contort, while the sounds of bones snapping back into place echoed across the length of the slender alleyway. I finally climbed up from my hiding spot and walked up to my friend’s side just in time to see the stranger open his eyes.
He gazed up at Grant, both horrified and somewhat in awe of who he looked upon. When my friend held his hand out towards him, he raised his trembling fingers to meet it. Once he had been helped back to his feet, his companions wore completely dumbstruck looks on their faces, but I couldn’t help but smile. Even though I knew what Grant was capable of, I don’t think I could ever get used to seeing him in action.
“Alright, look, guys. Your boss sent you on a suicide mission here,” he said, cutting his eyes between each of the men who had planned to see us dead, “I can’t say what his motivations for charging you with this were, but I have to assume he wants me to know where to find him.”
They all looked at one another, whispering words I couldn’t make out, but I felt secure in the knowledge that they weren’t about to attempt taking up arms against us again, not now; not with what they had seen.
“C-can you protect our families?” The man who had only recently rejoined the living asked, still shuddering from head to toe.
“I can’t make promises on that, mate. I’m truly sorry about that, but should I be able to locate Orchid, I will most certainly make sure he can never bring harm to anyone else, ever again. If I can get to him soon enough, perhaps…”
“Alberson Bridge,” the guy who my friend had levitated in his direction said, while his friends appeared somewhat reluctant still.
Grant looked almost stunned for a moment, seemingly taken aback by this location.
“You’re sure?”
“Yeah, man, I mean, sir. We only met with him on occasion, but we’d always have to walk that damned bridge to get to his house,” one of the other guys who had only previously spoken in whimpers said, “his place is only a few miles past it, upon a hill. You can only…”
“Get there on foot,” Grant said, interrupting the man’s words, “I know the rules of the place.”
The group of hired guns talked back and forth with my friend for a few more minutes, but they didn’t have much more in the way of useful information to offer. Yes, they warned us of the veritable hoard of well-armed security guards at Orchid Seniors’ multilevel mansion, located some miles past Alberson, but guns and guards shouldn’t be much of a problem for Grant. Still, my pulse was quickening at the idea of what else may be waiting for us when we got there.
“You boys get home to your families and get them as far away from all this as you can.”
They all nodded in unison, while a few of them were practically kissing Grant’s ass with gratitude for sparing them. These were the times that showed me the true nature of my friend. Likely, these men had done some bad shit in their lives, but Grant was letting them go. As they turned to run out of the alley, leaving their guns scattered across the concrete, my friend called out to them one last time.
“Hey!”
The men spun in place; each looking downright terrified they had not yet escaped with their lives.
“Make better choices, yeah? If you don’t, we will most certainly meet again. Next time, I may not be so forgiving.”
He gave them a childlike grin with a wink before they ran off. I hoped they would take this rare opportunity to forge a more honest life for themselves. It’s not every day the Devil gives someone a second chance.
Once we were alone in the alley, Grant grabbed the guns and threw them in the dumpster I had hidden behind. He shifted a couple of trash bags around to conceal the weapons beneath, but he still looked mentally checked out while he worked. Once that was done, he just nodded his head for me to follow him. We grabbed anything we had left in the hotel room, loaded up the Bronco, and hit the road once more, still without speaking a word.
“I can’t ask you to come with me on this, mate,” he said, after a good half hour or being back on the interstate.
“You don’t have to ask, man,” I replied with a half-smile.
“That’s the thing, mate. I can’t ask, as in I won’t ask.”
I just cut my eyes at him, before turning back to the road ahead, tilting my head, feeling somewhat confused at what he was getting at.
“It’s far too dangerous,” he said, “I can’t guarantee your safety on this one. I don’t even know if…”
“Grant,” I said, still keeping my eyes ahead, “for one: until we get this shit sorted out, I got nowhere else to go. Two: I’m not leaving; not to let you head into this alone.”
“But I’m…”
“I know what you are. I know who you are, but I know what else you are too…”
“And what’s that?”
“My friend. My brother. You’re not alone in this, mate,” I gave him a mischievous smile, knowing full well my ability to pull off ‘mate’ in a sentence had not improved since our last meeting.
He just chuckled, shaking his head from side to side.
“Stubborn bloody wanker!”
“Ew,” I replied, “bloody wanker!? That’s gross!”
Having finally convinced my friend that I had no intention of allowing him to face whatever had him so rattled alone, he requested that I head to the nearest city. The fact that he didn’t care which one we were closest to led me to fear that he may still be attempting to ditch me, before taking off on his own, leaving me no clue as to where he was headed. As it turned out, that was not his plan at all.
When I pulled onto the exit to downtown Atlanta, Grant directed me this way and that. Left here, right there, carry on for a few miles, and turn again. Were it not for his navigation, I would’ve been so lost, that I’d perhaps never find my way back to the interstate; not without having to refuel an extra time or two. I hadn’t always been the most well-traveled individual, having spent close to a decade behind bars, as well as those couple of blissful years by the beach, so I wasn’t familiar with this city in the least.
When I was finally directed to pull into the lone vacant parking space in front of what looked to be a long since abandoned bar on a street corner, I couldn’t help but wonder why this was to be our destination. Another unusual aspect of this whole scenario was that every other parking space along this particular stretch of road had a vehicle of one kind or another between its twin white lines. Yes, this tavern looked as though it closed its doors some years ago, but I still couldn’t rationalize why nobody may have chosen to at least take the spot in front of it.
Grant didn’t even have to unlock the door to the old building; he just strolled on in like he owned the joint. Of course, it would seem that was precisely the case. When I walked in, I didn’t look upon an ancient and forgotten place, covered with cobwebs and dust, but a very nice looking, albeit quite small corner bar. There were stools at the counter, a handful of tables with tall chairs propped at their sides, and even fully operational neon signs, bearing the name of one brand of alcohol or another.
“Be right back. Gotta change into some less bullet-riddled clothes,” he said, pushing his way through a door behind the counter.
After a few moments, he returned wearing a Pink Floyd t-shirt and some khaki cargo shorts. He leaned down behind the bar, fished a couple of glasses from underneath, and placed them on the counter, along with an ashtray, before pouring us each a pint. When he lit up a cigarette, it finally hit me that I hadn’t smoked even once since I got out of bed that morning; a situation that I felt inspired to remedy as soon as my friend lit one up for himself.
I sat upon the surprisingly comfortable bar stool, took a swing from my fresh pint, and deeply inhaled from my cigarette. I was still somewhat perplexed by this strange little place, but there was something so warm and inviting about it. Though it had looked ancient and somewhat run down from the outside, the beer tasted both fresh and chilled. It was damn refreshing too. Grant chugged down about half of his glass before planting his ass on the stool behind the bar.
I was still gazing around the room, puffing away in between lining my upper lip with a foamy beer mustache, wiping it off with the back of my hand, and repeating the process once again. Yes, I was pretty confused about both the bar I inhabited with my best friend, as well as the lingering questions of what the hell Alberson Bridge had to do with the price of free beer. Not to mention I was still concerned about what happened to Brandon after leaving our home at the beach in the dust, but my mind couldn’t figure out the best place to start on any of this. Fortunately, Grant was one step ahead, as usual, it would seem.
“Used to do business here; still do on occasion, but not in the same way I used to do things,” he was darting his eyes around the room as he spoke, seemingly feeling nostalgic.
“Business? Like deals and such?”
“Well, it’s not exactly as cut and dry as all that, but yeah.”
“So, you still make deals for people’s souls?”
I didn’t mean to be so blunt, but for a devil who claims to have changed his nefarious ways, I couldn’t help but feel like this was a bit of a contradictory concept.
“Not so much. Not anymore, anyway,” he said with a chuckle, “don’t get me wrong, I still play the occasional trick on some of the more awful and downright evil buggers out there; monkey’s paw deals and the like, but I try to help those who have good intentions.”
I gave him a somewhat confused look, almost as much lost for words at how casually he was discussing something like this, as well as the implications of it all. He just gave me that classic smirk and said,
“I don’t claim souls from good people, mate. Not anymore. I’ve spent a lot of time trying to right a lot of the wrongs I’ve done over the centuries. Sometimes I’ll find alternate options to help them, other times, I’ll just try to convince them they don’t need my help. It’s not always easy, but change never happens overnight.”
I couldn’t help but smile while he spoke. There was something almost childlike to his face when he talked about things that were far above my pay grade. It felt as though he was getting away with sharing a secret he wasn’t supposed to reveal. I can’t say I wasn’t tempted to pry a little more, of course. It wasn’t long ago that all he would tell me was that he couldn’t tell me much, but I didn’t want to push him. I’d never had much luck getting him to share, even when he was just a cocky limey I shared a cell with.
We sat in silence for a few minutes as we both sipped from our glasses. I still had so many questions I wanted to ask, but at the same time, I was enjoying this brief moment of peace. We hadn’t had much of an opportunity to relax; not since things went haywire back at my home, and I think we both needed a moment to wrap our minds around all that had gone down, as well as what was to come. Unfortunately, those were things I would need to ask about, regardless of how relaxed I was growing.
“So,” I said, bringing Grant’s attention back from the staredown he was having with something in the middle of nowhere, “what’s the deal with Alberson Bridge?”
“Alberson is…well, an unusual place,”
Given the bizarre things I had witnessed in my friend’s company, for him to consider something unusual was saying something. Still, I would neither comment nor interrupt while he spoke, as his words once more reverted to his business voice. I couldn’t help but wonder sometimes, which of the two was his genuine voice. Of course, it’s far more than likely that it’s neither of those I’d heard so far; only those that came with his human-shaped suit. Either way, I knew when he began to speak like this, shit was getting serious.
“The bridge itself is some miles behind a small town on the other side of the country. The name of the town itself is of little importance, as the bridge itself was there long before any buildings were erected nearby. Many of the town’s residents know of the bridge, as well as the fact that it’s only accessible on foot, but very few have ever followed that path after coming across the quite remarkable lake that flows beneath the bridge.”
I gave him a moderately confused look, or I’m fairly certain I did, as I was thoroughly perplexed by what he was saying. Sure, it’s not hard to believe that some places can only be reached on foot, as you can’t squeeze a vehicle everywhere, but it didn’t seem as if he was talking about thin trails in backwoods, or hidden streets tucked away behind slender alleyways.
“You see if you drive a car or even a bicycle up Alberson Road,” he said, with wide eyes and his classic smirk, “you would simply arrive at a T junction where the road meets Benson Way after a couple of miles. On foot, wearing neither shoes nor socks; however, the road goes on for considerably longer, eventually leading to Alberson Bridge.”
Had I been told about something like some years back, there’s absolutely no way in hell I would’ve believed it. It’s quite safe to say, I’ve developed something of a more open mind than I used to have, of course. Naturally, even though I had complete faith in my friend, there was one specific aspect to this whole ordeal that I still couldn’t quite figure out.
“So, this place is on the other side of the country, yeah?” I asked, to which Grant formed another almost sneaky grin across his face, obviously fully understanding what my concern was.
“Why’d we come here then?” He replied, having returned to his normal speaking voice.
“Well, yeah?” I shrugged.
He just nodded his head to the single door at the back of the bar, wearing an expression that didn’t read as one I would associate with playing some sort of prank. Sure, I had witnessed him jab a doorknob into thin air, effectively splitting the world open, but could this little tavern in the middle of downtown Atlanta, Georgia send us so many miles away?
I just stared at the door, as though it was about to give me some sort of fantastical sneak peek of anything other than the likely dingy back alley that ran behind the building my friend and I occupied at the time. Unfortunately, neither my halfway mentally vacant stare nor the refreshing pint I had almost cleaned off was enough to prevent me from damn near leaping out of my seat when someone pounded heavily on the front door.
It looked as though all of the color drained from Grant’s face as we both cut our eyes towards the entrance.
“We gotta move, mate,” he said, placing his palms on the bar to leap over.
He sped to the payphone that was mounted on the wall next to the backdoor, reaching for the phonebook that dangled from a chain below it. As he began leafing through the pages, I asked,
“What are you doing? Don’t we need to head out?”
“Not until I find where we’re headed.”
“Huh?”
“Just trust me, mate.”
The second he pulled the phone from its cradle, the front door practically blew off its hinges. The shockwave from whatever threw it open knocked me to the floor, while Grant still wouldn’t break his focus from the task at hand. He danced his fingertips across the keypad, entering far more numbers than any phone number should require.
“It’s time to come home, boys…” a familiar voice spoke from the doorway.
I felt my whole body begin to tremble as I raised back up from the hardwood floor, while my eyes could not look away from Ashley, who held both of her hands outstretched towards me.
“You don’t belong here anymore…come home, Michael…”
“DON’T LOOK AT HER!” Grant screamed out, finally latching the phone.
I was aware that I was lifting myself from the floor, but it didn’t feel as though I was actually in control of my body at the time. While my legs began to march towards the girl I had once considered a friend, my mind was begging to take the wheel again.
‘Grant…” I muttered, barely grasping onto my ability to speak, “I can’t stop…”
Before I had a chance to finish what I was saying, I felt the fingers of my friend wrapping around my upper arm, spinning me in place to face him.
“Stay with me, mate,” he said, slapping me hard across the face.
For that split second of sharp pain breaching across the skin of my cheek, my mind slipped back into my body.
“Michael…come home… please…”
Her voice sounded as though it whispered directly into my ear, while my brain once more struggled to force my legs to move. Grant dragged me closer to the door at the back of the bar, but it still felt as though everything inside me was fighting against it; everything but my brain anyway. It continued to yell out in protest, but could barely convince my lips to allow the words to pass through.
While Grant turned the knob, pulling the door towards him, I saw almost blinding light emitting from behind it. I managed to blink my eyes against whatever lay beyond the threshold, but as Ash spoke those same words again, even my eyes fell prey to her will.
“I’m so sorry, mate, but you need to be in control to walk through, even if it’s just for a second…”
He looked deeply into my eyes while he spoke, sounding as though he was calling out from the other side of the block. Only her repetitive words were echoing within my skull, while my friend barely managed to squeak through.
“I’ll fix it when we’re clear…just hang in there, brother.”
As soon as those words were whispered from a distance, I felt an almost unbearable agony erupt from my left arm. Finally, my mind collided with my body again. I shook my head while screaming out against the pain of the bones in my arm having been shattered. I wasn’t fully aware of what caused it, but it had succeeded in bringing me back from whatever trance Ashley had put me in.
“Are you here!?” Grant asked loudly; his words echoing over her seductive wails.
I just nodded before my friend pulled me through the doorway he stood directly in front of. In an instant, the sounds of the floor and walls of the bar vibrating, along with the seemingly endless chorus Brandon’s girlfriend had been chanting, fell silent once more.