Free From Hell by Tim Marquitz

this, Scarlett often proved
just how similar we really were. As much as I wanted to refute a
demonic bias for a more realistic view of the world and our
respective sides, I was just as much a blind sycophant as she was.
We both followed orders and trusted those giving them, even when we
questioned the commands themselves. I could easily picture the
lieutenants stabbing Lucifer in the back, but it wasn’t something I
really thought about…until now. The image soured my stomach.
Fortunately, Scarlett gave me an easy out.
    “ There’s no point waiting
any longer,” she said.
    I had to agree. We’d watched the house
Wally had directed us to for a couple hours by then. No one had
come or gone since we’d been there, and dawn was creeping up behind
us while we waited. Streaks of light had crept into the sky,
setting the dark clouds to glowing. Though it hadn’t rained on us,
it looked as if it were getting ready to. That wouldn’t stop London
from waking up, though.
    There hadn’t been but a couple of
pedestrians who stumbled through the area during our vigil. Mostly
drunks who tied one on a little too tight, and they were gone as
quick as their leadened feet could carry them. No one else out and
about, if we were gonna do something foolish, now was the
time.
    “ All right. Let’s
go.”
    Scarlett nodded, and the two of us
dropped down from the roof of the low-lying apartment across the
street and went over to the home.
    The white paint of its exterior had
long since been worn to gray by exposure. It had peeled back in
several places, revealing the blackened, rotting wood underneath,
furry mold having claimed its surface with a vengeance. The windows
at the front were boarded and reinforced with a haphazard array of
wood pieces in varying lengths and shapes. There was no uniformity
to it, just a bunch of random pieces slapped onto the frame and
nailed into place. It wasn’t much in the way of security, but there
was no way anyone could make their way through the window without
alerting the folks inside.
    The front door, however, was
different. Though the paint had been worn down and covered with
dirt, it was clear the door was a more recent addition to the home.
The surface was marred and pitted, tiny pieces cut and hammered
from its surface, but the wood that showed underneath the scarring
was brown and sturdy. There was none of the fuzzy green or black
that stood out like it did on the walls. No, whoever had installed
this door had purposely tried to make it look like the rest of the
house, worn and worthless.
    I ran my hand over the
surface of the wood, feeling its thickness against my fingertips.
It only confirmed my thoughts. The door was solid, meant to resist
a determined effort to get inside. My eyes glanced back to the
windows. They were probably equally as reinforced on the inside as
they were outside. I nodded to Scarlett. Folks in these parts only
put that kind of effort into home defense if there was something to
protect. Or they
had something to hide. It looked like Wally had been honest with us
after all.
    Scarlett and I had already
discussed the plan of attack, once more deciding not to use lethal
force unless we needed to. As much as both of us wanted to kill
Jacky boy, especially after seeing his latest masterpiece , we both knew the powers
that be on both sides of the fence were far better suited to punish
the bastard. Our goal was to take him alive and let the bosses
fight over who got to show him the error of his ways.
    I raised a finger, then
two, then three, and put my boot to work against the frame of the
house, just to the right of the door. Unlike the thick wood of the
door, the wall hadn’t been reinforced or even taken care of. It
gave way with a crack , knocking the securing bolt from the wall with a clatter.
The door swung open without resistance as Scarlett stormed inside.
I followed right behind.
    Panicked voices rose up, echoing all
around us. While I’d expected there to be several