Body Surfing

nine.
    A more cynical observer might be tempted to think that was what the Alphas had wanted to happen all along.
     
    Just then there was a knock.
    “Mickie?”
    Eric Szarko eased open his sister’s door.
    “You still awake?”
    Leo looked at his host’s little brother. What was he? Twelve years old? Thirteen?
    He let his host out, just a little. Just enough to let her see what he was going to do.
    “Eric,” the demon said. “It’s so good to see you.” He patted the chair beside him. “Come here.”

17
    J asper ditched the Charger in some trees about a quarter mile from Q.’s house. As he approached the Qusays’ fence, he clocked himself at forty-two miles an hour. The fence was only twelve feet tall. There were nasty spikes at the top but Jasper was pretty sure he could clear them. Deep inside him, Larry Bishop cupped his balls, but Jasper soared over the fence with a good foot to spare, landed on the other side without breaking his stride. He had to admit, there were certain fun parts to being a Mogran.
    The Qusay grounds were covered in trees and bushes, and it was easy enough to get close to the house under their cover. Once there, Jasper made his way around the perimeter. Miranda was at work, idly pushing a vacuum over the carpets as she stared at a reality show. Q.’s parents didn’t seem to be around, and there was no sign of Q. either, until Jasper made his way to the back of the house. The windows of Q.’s second-floor bedroom were open; some kind of 200 BPM electronica was pouring into the backyard. Jasper had never been able to figure out how Q. could listen to that kind of crap.
    He looked up at the window. There wasn’t a tree handy, or a good ol’ trellis, or some nice ropy ivy to latch onto. Just two-hundred-year-old bricks that had been sandblasted smooth when the Qusays moved in. So how the hell was he supposed to get up there?Jasper stared at the window for a good minute before he figured it out. Duh.
    He jumped.
    His fingers caught the sill and he chinned himself up. Q. was staring so intently at his computer screen that he didn’t even notice the additional presence in the room. His face was right up next to the screen. He appeared to be studying a series of medallions or insignias of some kind.
    Jasper pulled the pendant he’d taken from the driver’s broken neck out of his pocket. Like the images on the screen, it was a circle enclosing a collection of crosses and curlicues. He squinted at the text beneath one of the symbols:
    The 5th spirit is called Marbas—he is a great presedent, and appeareth at first in ye form of a great Lyon: but afterwards putteth on humane shape at ye request of ye Master. He Answareth truly of Things hidden or secreet, he causeth deseases and cureth them againe & giveth great wisdome & knowledge in mechanicall arts, & changeth men into other shapes. His seal is thus.
    Jasper looked around. Unlike his own bedroom, Q.’s was immaculate. Not because he was an unusually clean teenager, but because his parents had a full-time housekeeper. Jasper searched for something to throw, finally just settled for picking up a handy physics textbook and dropping it on the floor.
    Q. spun his Aeron desk chair around, nearly knocking it over.
    “Jesus Christ!”
    “Not quite,” Jasper smirked, “but close.” He smiled grimly. “Hello, Q.”
    Q. fumbled for a button and the music went off. Jasper pointed at the screen. “So, what’s with the magick?” He enunciated clearly to make sure the terminal k came out.
    Q. blushed. “They’re called sigils. They’re—” He shook his head. “The doctor said you wouldn’t wake up.”
    “Doctor?” Jasper waved the pendant on its broken length of leather like a hypnotist’s pendulum. “Is this his?”
    Q. nodded, gulped. He actually gulped.
    “Yeah, the doctor’s dead.” Jasper took a step into the room. “Would you have preferred it? If I hadn’t woken up?”
    Q. rolled a few inches away. “I didn’t want to hurt you. He—he made me do it. He hypnotized me.”
    “C’mon, Q. This isn’t a Bryan Singer movie. You really expect me to believe some shrink programmed you to take me out?”
    “You’re dead . I think anything goes after that.”
    “You got me there.” Jasper sat down on the bed. “Relax, Q., I’m not going to hurt you. I just want to talk.”
    Q. stared at his friend. At his strange body, his strange face. At his eyes, as if searching for a trace of the person he’d known.