Free The Dead Parade by James Roy Daley

slid the phone into his pocket, grinding his teeth as he did it. On top of everything else he was bitter now. He was bitter and aggravated by his domestic dispute. Sometimes that chick made him crazy.
    He limped past a row of freshly cut shrubbery and over a small bridge. He followed a shaded path that led onto a street: Baldwin Street.
    As his shoes touched the sidewalk a police car race by him. He stopped walking; there was a decision to be made: If he walked straight he would move towards Johnny’s house. If he turned right he would be heading towards home. If he turned left he’d move towards Debra’s condo, the hospital, and the police station.
    But did he want the police involved?
    Getting help seemed right, but being held for questioning seemed wrong. And he’d have lots of explaining to do. What would happen then, he wondered––when the demon arrived at the police station?
    “ I’ll die,” he whispered. “And so will a lot of other people.”
    With a sigh, James turned right.
    He decided to go home.
     
     
    34
     
    He managed to jog a half block on his wounded legs before spotting a bicycle that was leaning against someone’s front porch. It was a woman’s bike with a purple basket on the front, which looked completely idiotic in his book, but the bike was just his size. He approached it optimistically before his heart sank like a stone.
    The bicycle’s frame was locked to a railing that was attached to the house.
    Frustrated, James blew a breath of air and kicked the tire, knowing he couldn’t steal the bike. Then he noticed a second bicycle lying on someone’s lawn. With a great deal of haste James made his way towards it. Sure enough, the bike was unlocked. He grabbed the frame in his hands and lifted it to its wheels. The bicycle was a five speed. His threw his leg over the seat and dropped his foot on the pedal. With a push he was off, speeding down the road.
    Theft was easy––nobody even noticed.
    He hoped.
    As James made his way home he could hear the sirens blaring. He wondered which disaster he was listening to. Perhaps it was a combination of both: the Tecumseh Street house-fire and the Dolan Street High School evacuation crisis. He found himself wondering how many police officers, ambulance drivers, and firemen had their hands full.
    All of them, he supposed… every last one of them.
    Martinsville was not a big town.
     
     
    35
     
    A swarm of police cars surrounded his house.
    Oh my God, James thought. They’ve come for me… but how? Why?
    It was obvious. His car was imbedded in someone’s house, and the car had a license plate, and the license plate defined the owner, and the owner was…
    “ Shit!”
    James squeezed the hand brakes and spun the bike around. Going home was not an option, at least not yet. So where could he go?
    His first thought was Debra’s condo. That’s where he had spent most nights anyhow, but… no. He didn’t want to go there. Actually he did want to go there but that was beside the point.
    He peddled a little slower.
    Where am I going?
    In front of him was Cortez Street. He turned onto it peddled hard as he could. The bike wobbled from side to side as it gained speed. Driveways, lawns, houses, and trees zipped by. Leaning back, he let the bicycle coast. He could hear the hum of the tires rolling over the pavement.
    Where am I going, he wondered again. What do I need? What do I want?
    One thing James needed was a restroom. The pressure inside him was mounting. But what else did he need, a weapon?
    Johnny’s gun?
    The idea of retrieving Johnny’s gun was intriguing. But returning to Johnny’s house didn’t seem like much fun. But, he thought, if I kill the demon everything could return to normal. James shook his head. Normal. Yeah right. Nothing would be normal after this. He peddled again; he coasted again. When everything was said and done James had some explaining to do. He had police to deal with and apologies to make. Not that saying ‘I’m