Jeremy Chikalto and the Demon Trace (Book III of The Hazy Souls) Read online

  A cut-to of Broderick A. Savante, Professor of Religious Studies at Bristoli University, appeared on the screen.

  “Controversial. I like that, Cindy. The demons have some affiliation with Cajjez Jeremy Chikalto. What we know is that in many incidents involving the demons, witnesses have reported that the demons said 'Jeremy Chikalto.' The family, of course, descends from the Vordin Chikalto line, and what we're looking at here is a chance for scholars such as myself to really scour some of our planet's early history to get answers. In some of our earliest scrolls dating back to 210 GAN, we read certain lines pertaining to demons, and in the Book of Gawain, we are told that Vordin Chikalto was cast down from heaven. The Book of Gawain is not considered part of the canon, but shouldn't we revisit it? If Vordin Chikalto, founder of our galaxy, was indeed a fallen angel, wouldn't that make him a demon? Suspend disbelief, Cindy, for a minute here.”

  “I'm sorry, so you're suggesting that there is some religious basis for what we're seeing here today in the Farmoore Galaxy? I think it's more likely we're dealing with some kind of genetically engineered soldier. Jeremy Chikalto was always a disturbed individual, and this seems like something he masterminded for his inauguration as Vor.”

  Broderick laughed. “Yes, that very well may be, but at Bristoli University tomorrow evening, join us for a summit—”

  ~

  Jeremy shut the screen off and turned to his hosts. "So my family's been usurped?"

  "Is it true about the demons?" The young woman with black hair sat down beside him on the couch. Her father tensed up.

  "Cajjez Jeremy," he said, "please respect my family and leave our house. If there's anything you'd like-food, water, a change of clothes...?"

  Jeremy looked down at his disheveled self. He'd been awash on Leviathan Island, inside the mouth of a monster submarine, and in battle against Mantel and his cronies. His pink button-down shirt was well past its prime, and his jeans had large chunks missing, revealing matte-black boxers. "Oh..."

  "It's just that, Cajjez Jeremy, you're a danger to us here. We're already on high alert because of the fire. The guards could come here any minute."

  "Take some food." The young woman jumped up off the couch and ran to the kitchen. "It's an honor to meet you. My name is Rita. Cajjez Jeremy, do you like cinkaar bars?"

  Jeremy joined her in the kitchen. "I'm sorry to bring your family trouble."

  Rita turned to him, her eyes glassy. "Cajjez Jeremy, please let me get you some new clothes. I'll check my brother's room." She ran from the kitchen and up the stairs, leaving Jeremy staring at the cinkaar bars. He realized he was starving, tore open the package, and devoured the crispy oatmeal snack. Next, he flung open the kitchen cabinets and poured himself a glass of water. Two glasses later, and he moved on to the refrigerator. "I'd like something hot, something I can cook up. Quick!"

  The father came into the kitchen. He held up his hand to make a point, but it was shaking. "The news just reported that you were spotted in the garden outside the castle. There's a manhunt. They'll be here soon. Please, I beg you, leave."

  Rita emerged with piles of clothes tucked under her arms. "He might be your size."

  Jeremy eyed the frumpy pile.

  "Cajjez Jeremy, once when we were little, I was invited to a royal ball in your honor. It was held in the concert hall and I remember you sang the song... what was it? 'Last night a ball of flame crackled high overhead,' something about the stars?"

  Jeremy examined her brother's wardrobe and rejected each mediocre piece in a state of irritation. Maren was missing. He settled on a form-fitting navy sweater and jeans. "I should probably get a shower," he mumbled.

  When Jeremy walked out of the bathroom a few minutes later, fresh as a daisy, he could hear the helicopters approaching. The father began to pray. Jeremy approached the man and his daughter and lay his hand on their shoulders. "You'll be fine. I'm leaving soon, but before I do, can you please tell me if you believe the reports." He gestured to the helicopters outside. "I thought my family was loved. My mother—how can the people of Watico turn on her? My father? People are jumping to conclusions!” Jeremy balled his fists up.

  Rita looked out the window at the night sky. "If you knew about the demons, why would you cover something like that up? The Leveled Ground says that we have to band together against the royal family because a darkness follows in their steps. If you have nothing to hide, then why won't your family answer questions?" Her eyes shifted to Jeremy. “Is it true? Are there demons?"

  "I suppose I could answer some questions. Yes, there are demons. My family's only just learned of them, and we're frightened and concerned, same as everyone else. But I think we'll be okay. Thank you, Rita." Jeremy left the family hiding behind their sofa, and entered the Haze.

  Jeremy popped back onto Watico and strolled up to a soldier who was standing beside the brook that ran to the east of the castle.

  "Excuse me," he said to the soldier. "I'd like to turn myself in to the Leveled Ground."

  Chapter 3

  Leveled Ground

  The soldier, after doing a double take, called in an unnecessarily large group of back-up soldiers, and Jeremy was handcuffed, deposited in an armored car, and transported to the headquarters of the Leveled Ground. The headquarters were in an old Church sanctuary, west of the castle. The church stood tall, and had thick walls of limestone, with narrow doors and small windows. A harsh wind from the sea blew the thin silver trees surrounding the church back and forth. Jeremy was led through a side entrance, passing quickly through the aisles and down a trap door to a holding cell in an underground catacomb. There was a gross amount of airborne allergens hanging out in the Leveled Ground headquarters.

  "A bit dramatic for an HQ."

  "Shut it," snapped a guard. He jammed the butt of his rifle into Jeremy's ribs.

  Jeremy's cell was small and iron bars separated him from his captors. His left hand was handcuffed to the lowest bar, forcing him to crouch. It was a blow to his well-cultivated posture. He flicked idly at the dust with his fingers.

  "He won't talk!" A soldier threw his hands up and paced back and forth.

  "He'll talk." A slender, tall soldier with a neatly braided beard leaned forward, just inches from Cajjez Jeremy's face. "I'll ask you one more time. How did the demons come to Watico?"

  Jeremy smiled. "You'll have to torture me horribly. You'll be tried for treason, of course, and die. But go ahead. You aren't skilled enough to make me talk." Jeremy nodded at the row of torture devices set up beside his holding cell.

  The bearded soldier held up an iron rod and a subordinate wheeled over a portable fire pit. The bearded soldier held the iron rod over the flame and watched it glow red. "I always savor a challenge." He pushed the rod against Jeremy's forearm and the flesh sizzled. Jeremy gritted his teeth through the pain.

  "Tell me everything you know about the demons." The soldier slid the molten tip of the rod down Jeremy's arm and let it linger on Jeremy's finger. His nail began to melt and he yelped. "Okay! I'll talk!"

  "I overestimated my opponent," said the soldier, disappointed with Jeremy's anti-climactic submission, and traded his rod for a hammer. He bludgeoned Jeremy's knee. Jeremy cried out.

  "Okay! Let him talk!" Another soldier stepped in to cool things down.

  Jeremy was reeling now, but held back his electricity. "I'll tell you everything. But first, let me see Maren. I know you've got her. Please—"

  At this, the soldiers began to guffaw and slap each other on the back. "She's a bit busy with our Captain at the moment, if you know what I mean."

  Jeremy tensed in his restraints.

  But just then Maren rounded the corner, escorted by three soldiers.

  "Maren!" shouted Jeremy.

  "Jeremy!" Maren's eyes widened and she smiled with relief.

  The guard nearest Jeremy sneered. "Okay, you've seen your precious, now talk."

  "I want to... touch her one last time."

  "How romantic! I'm getting c
hoked up, fellas!" said the peanut gallery. The soldiers snickered.

  Now Maren piped up, sensing Jeremy's plan. "If I could just hold his hand for a second? Please?"

  "What a couple of disgusting saps!" One of Maren's guards spat on the ground. "Come on then, graze fingertips or whatever the hell you need to do." He led her to Jeremy's cell and everyone waited for the show. Maren's fingers slipped through the bars and made contact. Jeremy locked eyes with her, smiled, and a second later, she was floating unconscious in the Haze. The wounds on his arm shrank away and the electric throbbing of his knee vanished. He exhaled slowly and pulled Maren through again to a better spot on Watico.

  They were in a dusky forest of dismow trees with an underbrush of ferns and moss. Maren drowsily came to while Jeremy stroked her cheeks.

  "I'm invincible, Maren."

  "No one is invincible," said Maren. "I need to sleep."

  Jeremy wrapped his arms around her and they drifted off under the stars.

  The next morning, Jeremy woke up early and began gathering suitable wood to build a makeshift shelter. He used a small tree with a sturdy branch as one of his anchors, and then leaned the other pieces of wood up against it, creating a nook. Then, he covered it in ferns. Maren smiled at their hut.

  "I'm going to leave you again. I need you to hide in here until I get back." Jeremy held his hand up at Maren's protest. "I'm getting some supplies. We need water, food, that sort of thing. I want to minimize the Haze; it's taking a toll on your health. Lyrna will stay with you until I get back."

  And Jeremy was gone. Maren waited for a time in silent repose, but then rose and began to pace. She had spent the better part of her youth in the Farmoore Galaxy studying to be an Earth Studies scholar. She knew that the University of Gilk had an extensive collection of Earthen religious texts. Maybe the answers were already in books, somewhere. How would they live out the remainder of their days? Was that something they could even control?

  Jeremy appeared in front of her with two backpacks and handed her one. She opened it up and saw a new outfit folded on top. "Thanks." Maren reached past the black studded leggings and tan tunic and grabbed a bottled water.

  “So I found a place,” said Jeremy. “It's just through there.” He pointed behind him through the thick of the forest.

  Maren finished her water bottle and then squirreled it away inside her backpack. “I can't throw this onto the beautiful forest floor. Where we're going—does it have recycling?”

  “It does.” Jeremy laughed and then led Maren to a recently abandoned house. Though compact, it stood three stories high, and looked as pretty as the flowering trees beside it. It was painted a soft yellow and the shutters were mint green. Vespian engravings on the front door meant that it was an old house, possibly built during the reign of Vor Paul Chikalto II. Jeremy ran inside and then gestured with an air of coolness, leaning nonchalantly against a black coat rack. “Shower's upstairs, hot mess.”

  Maren showered, dressed, and then found herself seated across from the Cajjez in the dining room. She rolled a stress ball between her hands. "Jeremy, I think you should give the public an explanation."

  Jeremy remained silent.

  Maren walked to a window and pulled back the curtain. Outside, the smoke was rolling over the hills to the east. "Why do people set fires and destroy things when they want answers?" She shivered. “You need to show them your demons."

  "I would cause a mass panic."

  "People would be frightened, but you are powerful enough to enforce order. This chaos is far more dangerous."

  Jeremy considered this, but shook his head. "It's not safe to sleep here tonight. They're probably canvassing the area." A smile spread across Jeremy's face. "How about we go somewhere with palm trees?"

  Maren squinted at him. "Leviathan Island...?"

  "Something like that. We'll rest, then find our parents. For sure." He held his hand out to her and she cautiously accepted.

  Jeremy zipped through the Haze, pulling out at intervals for Maren's sake. His demons followed at his heels like gruesome puppies, despite Lyrna's hisses and spats. At last, Jeremy arrived at his destination. Thankfully, his demons stayed behind in the Haze.

  Maren felt the warm, fresh air fill her lungs. There was no smoke here, instead the smells of rich food. Her eyes fluttered open. They were sitting on a pale beach abutting a blue ocean, with sunbathers cooking on towels nearby, high rises in the background, and the noontime sun overhead. Jeremy de-shoed his feet and worked the sand with his toes.

  "I've borrowed some money just now from that nice gentleman over there." Jeremy pointed to a tall, rounded gentleman in a fashionable wide-brimmed hat. "And she helped finance our fun, too." Jeremy nodded at an older lady, clinking martinis with friends.

  "You stole from them. Where are we?" asked Maren.

  Jeremy laughed and made off into the crowd.

  Chapter 4

  That Day and Hour

  An hour later and Jeremy and Maren were checking in at Vista Marina, an all-inclusive resort overlooking the Mediterranean Sea.

  "Your plan is Barcelona, Spain?" Maren stepped into the elevator.

  "Stress clouds my judgement. We need to catch our breath." Jeremy pressed the button for the 10th floor.

  Their room was a spacious suite with yellow deco walls. Lizard paintings slithered on the stone masonry, flowing along the walls to the outside balcony. Maren plopped onto a green sofa. "This is nice."

  "Remember when we were six, and you told me that if you swim deep enough in the ocean, you disappear?"

  "I don't remember saying something that creepy."

  "'Well, that's a shame. I thought you were on to something."

  Jeremy sat on the couch, lifting Maren's feet and placing them on his lap. "I actually had my castle engineer design me a deep sea diving suit because of that conversation."

  Maren cooed and sunk deeper into the cushions. "I want cake."

  "You deserve some cake."

  "Hot chocolate."

  "That too. I hear it's quite good in Spain." Jeremy jumped to his feet.

  "No." Maren pushed Jeremy back onto the couch. "I'd like to go by myself."

  He raised an eyebrow.

  "For vacation, I'd like cake, hot chocolate, and to feel safe enough to walk the streets by myself."

  Jeremy nodded. “Sounds nice.”

  While Maren was out, Jeremy lay on the bed, willing his demons to enter Earth's atmosphere, disappear, then reappear again. He settled on their absence, but wished the entire connection was severed. When the demons had been gone for a while, Lyrna poofed onto the bed, her head cocked to the side.

  "Meow?" Lyrna leapt onto Jeremy's lap and he nuzzled her under the chin.

  “I need a few drinks to loosen up.”

  “Drinks stink.”

  “Drinks do not stink, Lyrna.”

  Lyrna puffed slightly, then disappeared.

  In a flash, Jeremy was downstairs. He walked up to a hotel employee. "Where is the bar my good man?"

  The concierge smiled. "The ground level by the pool." His Spanish accent was thick, but his English was impeccable.

  "Why thank you." Jeremy followed the signs for the pool. He strolled down a winding staircase that led outside and breathed in the fresh salt air. Jeremy slid past the large in-ground pool and made his way to the tiki bar. He drummed on the counter and admired the gin and tonic the bartender was making. She juiced an orange slice over the dry liquor.

  “Yes, señor?” She slid the drink to another patron and smiled at Jeremy.

  Jeremy disappeared behind the air and reappeared behind the bar. He snatched the top-shelf champagne, scotch, bourbon, and something sweet-looking in a bejeweled flask. The bartender gasped, and he was gone.

  Back in the hotel room, Jeremy was lounging on the couch, sipping champagne. Then the door opened and an amused Maren came in.

  "Maren, look at what I've got." Jeremy hopped off the couch and pulled a purple sheet dramatically of
f his stash of goods. The champagne bottle teetered and Jeremy dove towards it. "Oops!" He steadied it and faced Maren.

  "Very nice," she said. Maren placed her cake next to the bottles, along with grapes, salsa, chips, guacamole and cheese.

  Together they feasted, indulged, and imbibed. After a few toasts, they reclined in their chairs on the balcony and watched the sun set.

  "We should just live here. I'll bring our families, we'll live in obscurity; it'll be beautiful.

  "When we find them we will," replied Maren, stretching her arms overhead.

  Jeremy took another sip. “I was sitting with Lyrna earlier and it made me think.... I could find a suitable ball of fluff with supernatural dimension-crossing powers just for you. They come in handy in times of Apocalypse."

  Maren swiped Jeremy's glass from his hand and dumped the bubbly liquid down her throat. "What spirit animal would suit me?"

  "A fox."

  Maren smiled.

  "You're cunning and your feet are so small." Jeremy picked up one of Maren's feet and kissed it. "I've always loved your feet."

  "Thank you. I've always enjoyed your..." Maren slinked over to Jeremy's seat and sat on his lap. "Your voice.”

  “Well I am an intergalactic singer—”

  “Yes, but I mean the way you talk. There's a soothing quality to it. And when you speak low, there's a slight gravely edge. When I'm close,” she lifted his shirt up and pressed her cheek against his chest, “I can feel the vibrations.”

  "Tipsy Maren is very bold."

  She leaned forward and began to kiss his chest, working her way down. She stopped just above the top button of his jeans.