THIRTY-TWO
A mobile phone ring tone went off to the aptly morbid tune of the ‘death march’. Peroni instinctively looked at her phone but it was quite silent, besides, who would have a ring tone like that?
“Well is somebody going to answer that or what?” Lewis shouted from the landing. “It isn't mine.”
“It's not mine, either,” Peroni confirmed.
“Well it sure as shit isn't mine,” Larry said remembering his destroyed phone down stairs. He plonked himself down on the bed making the springs complain at his weight.
“It's mine,” Nichols said and took his phone out of his pocket, it was ringing alright but the ring tone wasn't one he had ever had. He looked at the caller ID and couldn't help but smile, albeit grimly.
“What's the number?” Peroni asked seeing Nichols reaction.
“Six, six, six.” Nichols replied and held the phone up for her to see.
“Jesus,” Larry snorted in disgust. “Just what I need, another fucking comedian.” And the jokes on you Larry my boy he lamented to himself
Nichols hit the answer button. “Satan's lap dog I presume?”
“Ha! Actually,” the caller replied. “He prefers cats. I take it you are the lead holy man in there?”
He didn't know what he expected but the Americans voice was so normal Nichols forgot to answer, after all what it's not every day you are on the phone to a demon. It wasn't until he caught sight of Peroni and Larry looking at him expectantly that he fazed back in again.
“Is it him?” Peroni mouthed and Nichols replied with a nod. “Put him on speaker, Father,” she added.
He nodded again and put the phone on speaker so they could all hear the American. “Waste of time asking how you got my number, I suppose.” Nichols asked as nonchalantly as he could, although his heart was threatening to burst right out of his chest, and he did his best to keep the tremble building in his stomach out of his voice.
“It's all smoke and mirrors, Father,” Randall replied. “Now, I've got another little trick up my sleeve. I want to come up and talk. Just talk, so tell your goons... What are they called? Lewis and Peroni?”
Peroni shuddered at the mention of her name and Lewis cursed.
“Tell them to watch what they are shooting at,” Randall continued through the speaker. “They wouldn't want to hit Larry now would they, in all the confusion?
“Depends on which one of my goons you asked.” Nichols put his hand over the mouth piece. “Heads up, Lewis.”
“Fucking A,” came the reply.
“Hey!” Larry interrupted. “What the hell are you talking to this guy for? Hang up the fucking phone you moron.” He turned to Peroni. ”And you, call the fucking cavalry, for Christ sakes.”
She held up her phone. “No signal, my phone is dead.”
“Shit!” Lewis called out. “Mine too, I had three bars a minute ago.”
“Mine too,” said Nichols looking at his phone, not that the demon outside needed a network. He uncovered the mouth piece again and swallowed hard before asking, “Where's Jeff?”
After half a minute of dead air, Randall finally replied. “In a better place than any of you.”
Even though he knew that was coming the finality of Randall's words made Nichols wince inwardly. He took a few seconds of his own before replying in which time he could feel his blood boiling. “Right,” he said firmly. “I'm going to lay this out simply for you. I've got protection in here, big protection and I'm not talking about guns. We can stop you before you can get anywhere near Larry.”
“That sounds like a threat,” Randall replied with a hint of sarcasm in his voice.
“It's a promise,” Nichols stated. “We aren't going to give up Larry to you or anyone...”
“I'm not just anyone holy man,” Randall interrupted.
“You're nothing,” Nichols said with a sneer. “You want Larry? Try and take him. That's all.”
Nichols heard Randall breath to speak on the other end but hung up before he could get a word out.
“Yeah! Nice one Father,” Lewis said clearly impressed.
“Really? Not too much?” Nichols' hands were sweating so much now that he nearly dropped the phone, he pocketed it and rubbed his palms on his sleeves.
“Nar,” bang on I'd say.” Lewis said, loitering by the bedroom door and beaming like a kid.
“Lewis, watch the stairs,” Peroni ordered, all business. “God only knows what might come through the front door now.” She said this without taking her eyes off Nichols, who although was looking pale from his confrontation with the demon he was definitely back to his old self now as far as she was concerned and despite their situation this helped steady her own nerves. “Protection?” She asked.
He just exhaled deeply in response.
“Yeah, What protection?” Larry wanted to know. “If you've got something up your sleeve, now's the fucking time, Padre.”
The priest was trembling now and had gone white as a sheet. Seeing his growing terror, Peroni moved forwards and took a hold of his shaking hand, which was clammy to the touch.
“Father?” She ushered him over to a chair, intending to get him to sit down before he fell down. “Father?” She said again, suddenly fearful herself. Not of that unknown menace outside but of losing Father Nichols to that paralyzing fear again and that this time he might not return from its grip just when they needed him the most. She was about to guide him onto the chairs when he suddenly pulled away and looked at her as if she had just slapped him in the face.
“God, Ania I'm sorry.” She was grateful to see his eyes focus once more and he squeezed her hand reassuringly. “I'm alright,” he said softly and let her hand go. “I'll be back in a moment,” this said he moved over to the door. “It's going to be okay,” he said more to himself than her it seemed then was gone.
“Were where the hell is he going?” Larry wanted to know.
She just shook her head in response, and tried to convince herself he was coming back. In mind as well as body.