Chapter 22
Suzi and Phineas moved stealthily toward the parking area, which was devoid of vehicles. A faint commotion emanated from a large cargo bay door down the path, but its source remained unclear. Phineas crouched behind a concrete pillar, signaling Suzi to follow suit.
“Now we whisper,” he mouthed to her.
She gave a thumbs-up.
They crept across to the opposite wall, hugging it as they neared the double cargo doors.
A dog growled in a language Suzi instantly recognized: “Hif jebimarg, akounid!”—meaning ‘Be careful, idiot.’
Phineas raised an eyebrow, silently asking, “What the fuck?”
Suzi shrugged.
“Pid kwici fect mis odixic cijabik egk biekl mub beg,” the demonic voice barked—an order to load the remaining items for transport.
Footsteps followed, accompanied by the sound of rolling equipment.
Phineas pulled out his phone and recorded a video. He edged to the corner, angling the camera just right. Suzi watched, curious.
The human voices chimed in. “I really hate that guy,” one said.
“He takes his job way too seriously,” another replied.
Hammering and scraping sounds punctuated their conversation.
Phineas held his phone at the corner, capturing a few seconds of footage. Playback revealed a wall, the corner of the wall, a person started to come into the frame, then static, more static, and then the wall as the camera refocused as it retreated, and the video ended.
‘Fuck’ he mouthed again. He put his phone away, hugged the wall tightly, and put his head to the corner. He quickly poked his head around and brought it back. He took a deep breath, did it again, slower this time, and pulled his head back. He looked at Suzi and held up two fingers.
Her phone rang, Duran Duran’s “Rio.” Suzi silenced it, but it was too late.
“Skwed? Cuxiugi oc qibi,” one of the voices growled.
Phineas’s eyes widened. He whispered, “Hide!” to Suzi, stood up, untucked his shirt, tussled his hair, and pretended to be drunk. His fake phone call began: “Yes, baby, I’m at work. Where else would I be? No, baby, I’m not running around on you…”
Two men burst from the cargo doors. One wielded a large silver knife with thorns, and a design Suzi couldn’t discern. She retreated to a doorway they’d passed earlier.
“Rogziel’s Blade,” Judas’s voice quivered and lusted simultaneously.
The men confronted Phineas, interrupting his charade. “Hey, baby, let me call you…” One slapped the phone away.
“Hey guys…” Phineas slurred.
“What are you doing here?” the slappy man demanded.
“I think I’m lost. I…” Phineas stammered.
“Ki oc flograp,” the knife-wielder told the other. ‘He is lying.’
Suzi knew the gig was up.
“Whaaaat? You talk funny.” drunk Phineas said to the knife-wielder.
“He said you’re lying,” Slappy clarified. He pushed Phin against the wall. “Cahixod xi du,” the man murmured to Phineas.
Suzi, infused with Judas, quietly and deftly stepped behind Mr. Knifey. “No, you submit to me,”
He turned, surprised, only to have his right hand grabbed at the wrist, dropping the knife. Suzi’s right hand wrapped around his throat. Despite the man being physically larger and likely stronger, she had surprise on her side. She swept his leg and he crumpled to the ground.
Slappy was also taken by surprise by Suzi's sudden appearance and his partner's quick takedown. Phineas took the opportunity of the distraction, grabbed the man’s hand from his chest, bent it slightly, and spun the man around, forcing him to his knees. The man laughed maniacally.
Phineas looked down to see Suzi face to face with the man she had taken down. She was growling in his face.
“Where did you learn that?” Phin asked Suzi.
Her wide, ruby-red eyes met his.
“Whoa!” Phineas stepped back.
Suzi held the fancy silver knife in her left hand. The man she’d just incapacitated lay whimpering, tears streaming down his face.
“Suzi—hon—something is wrong,” Phineas said.
Suzi heard him, but Judas was in control. Her focus remained on the man Phineas had restrained.
“Suzi! Drop the knife. Don’t do anything stupid here.”
Phineas retreated a step. The man glanced over his shoulder at the pink-haired woman approaching him with pure hatred.
“Ku luab subcid. Sigik xi hew du qiff sebbo.” The man dared her: ‘Do your worst. Send me back to Hell.’
Suzi pulled him closer, the knife pressed to his throat. Phineas released the man’s arm, and Slappy stood defiant, arms outstretched.
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“Gnur jaha set fet rayet ir,” Suzi’s voice commanded. She locked eyes with him.
His jaw clenched, eyes widening.
“Suzi…” Phineas’s voice softened. “I don’t know what you’re thinking, but don’t do what I think you’re thinking.”
Suzi’s eyes narrowed. “Jaha set rayet!” she growled.
“Girib! Nonta hesk xi rayet!” the man howled.
“Tonta set fik? Aya tonta set adet pey?” Suzi’s voice questioned the demon within the man.
“Tonta kicdul xi kwucid! Sigik xi hew du qiff sebbo.”
The two snarled like rabid dogs in a fighting pit, yet their gaze held an intensity akin to lovers.
After several seconds, Suzi smiled. “Girib,” she said calmly.
Phineas watched the man quiver and shudder as dark, shadowy energy left his body and entered Suzi. The knife dissolved into nothingness.
Suzi stepped back. The man lay unconscious but breathing. She blinked, appearing lost. She looked at Phineas, who stared at her like she had three heads.
“What the FUCK was that?” Phineas paced, hands on his head in disbelief. “Who ARE you?”
Suzi swallowed hard. “I don’t know how to explain it. Something awakened within me since Dr. Adamson was attacked. It takes over sometimes, and I can’t control it.”
“That guy… he was tearing apart my will to live,” Phineas continued, still pacing. “Where did the knife go?”
“He was possessed by a terror demon,” Suzi explained. “I think he was literally trying to scare you to death. I don’t know what happened to the knife. It just disintegrated.”
“I’ve seen a lot, and not much rattles me,” Phineas said, “but your EYES were more terrifying than anything I’ve seen. He was a close second. Wait. Are you possessed?”
“NO! I’m me.”
“You spoke their language. What was that? You absorbed his darkness. Now, it’s in you!” Phineas’ panic escalated.
Suzi felt the same panic in Phineas that she’d experienced during her existential crisis after discovering demons, angels, and God were all real.
“Phin, calm down. I’m me. I have something in me that fights these things. There’s still one more, at least. We either need to get out of here or keep going. What do you want to do?”
Phineas locked eyes with her, his gaze probing. “You’re on the good guys’ side?” he asked, voice edged with suspicion.
Suzi chuckled, her amusement genuine. “Yes. Of course,” she replied, her tone light but her resolve unwavering.
His unease was palpable; he swallowed hard and nodded slowly. The weight of trust hung in the air, fragile yet crucial. “Okay. I believe you,” he conceded, as if granting her a fragile truce, his nod quickening.
Surveying their surroundings, Phineas picked up his phone and deftly manipulated the screen. A triumphant smile tugged at his lips as he held the phone out to her. “It recorded,” he announced, slipping the device into his pocket.
The two men—Knifey, now asleep, and Slappy, still unconscious—were secured together with handcuffs.
“Let’s find out what they were stashing,” Phin suggested, eyes flickering toward the cargo doors.
Two sealed crates sat near the cargo doors, empty wooden crates stacked against the back wall, with one near a workbench displaying tools: a hammer, a box of nails, a roll of bubble wrap, and some paperwork. Nearby, a pallet bore smaller crates, their contents tantalizingly visible.
Phineas reached into the open crate, extracting a tightly wrapped item. It was hefty, baseball-bat-sized, and mysterious. As he unwrapped it, Suzi examined the smaller boxes on the pallet. Two items caught her eye: a clear, softball-sized glass orb, and a golden cuff that seemed to hum with latent power. She picked them up and turned to see Phin wielding an old, likely ancient, warriors’ axe with worn, grey metal blades on either side of a thick wooden handle.
“What is all this?” Phineas’ curiosity spilled into the room.
“Peilial’s Bracer. The Orb of Angra Minayu. Drabek’s Axe,” Judas’s voice echoed in Suzi’s mind, cryptic and ancient.
She feigned ignorance. “I don’t know.”
Phineas gingerly set down the axe, its worn blades hinting at battles long past. He grabbed the hammer and attacked the sealed crates, revealing more artifacts—each one unique and resonating with history.
Judas whispered their names, some dripped with the awe of a child seeing a stack of Christmas presents asking, ‘Can I have that one, Mommy?,’ some coated with disdain like an ex-wife talking about the woman who her ex-husband who left her for, and a few with lack-luster emotion of an ‘I could care less’ attitude.
The table overflowed with a motley collection of almost two dozen artifacts. Phineas snapped photos, documenting evidence. But the paperwork baffled him—an unfamiliar language, indecipherable columns. Suzi pretended ignorance, though the letters danced in her mind, forming meaning.
The automatic door slid open, revealing a man with a pallet jack. Their eyes met, frozen in a tense tableau. Then, the man fled in a heartbeat, shouting incomprehensible, alarming words.
Suzi turned to Phineas. “Do we give chase?”
His reply was wry, “I was waiting for you to go ‘Super-Suzi.’”
“He’s likely calling for backup,” she told him.
“I agree. We’ve got a lot of information. Let's get back to the guys and see what they have found.”
“Peilial’s Bracer. Take it!” Judas insisted, urgency coloring his voice.
Suzi hesitated, her fingers brushing the golden cuff, before picking it up.
“No. It’s evidence,” Phineas declared, practicality overriding desire. “I have the pictures. It’s bad enough that I obtained them in a questionable manner. It’s worse that knife got destroyed.
She sat the bracer back down, knowing Judas was disappointed, and even a little disappointed herself as it would have gone great with her ensemble.
“Take it,” Judas demanded once more.
They ran. Knifey stirred, tugging at his arm, still cuffed to the unconscious Slappy.
Phin released the handcuffs, his voice sharp. “Do you know how to get out of here?”
The man, once a vessel for the knife-wielding demon, panicked. “Where are we? What day is it? What have you done with my family?” His questions collided, desperate and disoriented.
“Bah. Useless.” Phin dismissed him, watching as the man scrambled to his feet and fled up the drive.
Suzi turned to the detective, “Can’t we backtrack the way we came?”
“Not unless you know the gate’s access code or happen to carry a blowtorch,” he replied, matter-of-fact.
“Peilial’s Bracer,” Judas’s voice echoed again, insistent.
“Forget the damn bracelet!” Suzi snapped aloud.
Phineas regarded her, a mix of puzzlement and understanding in his eyes. “You’re not talking to me, are you? There’s something else inside your head.”
Her cheeks flushed. “Yes, but right now, we need to escape—like now.”
“YES! Every building has emergency exits, regardless of its status. There should be one up ahead.”
Phineas sprinted, but Suzi hesitated—bracer or safety? She chose the latter.
They reached the fire exit and emerged into a concrete corridor. Stairs led to another emergency door, opening to the alley. Phineas wedged a dumpster against it.
“That won’t hold them long. Let’s move,” he told her.
“I’m parked in front.” Suzi dashed toward the front of the building.
“Front? What part of ‘covert’ don’t you understand?” Phineas followed her, exasperated.
“I wasn’t aiming for ‘covert.’ Honestly, I don’t even know what I was aiming for.”
He grabbed her shoulder at the building’s corner, pulling her back. He peeked around the front—traffic, pedestrians. He signaled for her to run. They sprinted to the pickup. Suzi circled to the driver’s side; Phineas ran for the passenger door.
The building’s front door burst open. A massive Samoan charged out, NFL linebacker speed. Phineas feinted right, dodging left, maintaining a safe distance.
“Go!” Phineas shouted at Suzi, who stood in the door’s side rail.
The Samoan’s gaze locked on Suzi across the truck’s roof.
“Hey, big boy! Over here!” Phineas taunted, desperate to divert the man’s attention.
Suzi revved the engine, ready to flee. The Samoan’s threat reached Phineas: “I’ll pick my teeth with your bones, little man.”
Another man and a woman emerged from the building. The woman and Samoan pursued Phin, while the other man sprinted for the truck. Suzi peeled away, merging into traffic.
Phineas sprinted two blocks, the Samoan and woman closing in. He needed a plan. Honking cars and screeching tires provided it. He veered into traffic, slowing himself but impeding his pursuers further.
He crossed lanes, thrusting his thumb out. Aiden’s truck slowed, and Phineas leaped into the bed.
“Thanks for coming back,” he panted through the sliding glass.
“Traffic’s a bitch. Where to now?” Suzi asked, winded.
“I’d like to go to the hospital please,” Phineas replied, settling into the truck bed, catching his breath, letting the cold, snowy air rush over him.