A Fishy End

Chapter 54

The Order of the Dagon gathered on a cold, blustery night. It was early November, and there were hints of winter in the sharp wind. Rick stared up and down the dark street; if he was bothered by the cold, he gave no sign.

Kyle shivered and pulled his coat tight to his body. This was his sacrifice, his and Caleb's. It was their penance for having brought Darren in, who then angered the god by melting the wrong statue. The two would select the next sacrifice and hold the person down.

"It's time," Rick said.

Caleb gave a nod. He didn't seem bothered by having to choose the next victim. "This way. He's perfect. Older man. No immediate family. No one to miss him." They started down the street toward the house that Kyle and Caleb had been casing for the better part of the week. "What's more, we saw where he hides the key," Caleb added. He seemed to be trying hard to get back in Rick's good graces. "Be a snap to get inside."

Kyle nearly dropped the flashlight as Caleb bent to retrieve the key from under the fake rock besides the man's porch. In the dim reflection, he caught Caleb's expression. Don't blow this, the look said. Kyle steeled himself for what was to come.

After all, there was no going back. It would mean going back to scrounging for money, for one thing, and he liked their new lifestyle of ease. For another, he'd heard enough about what had happened to Darren. He didn't want to go that way, or spend the rest of his life always looking over his shoulder.

The first part of the sacrifice went easy. Caleb opened the door, silent as a mouse, and crept inside, Kyle hard on his heels.

Unfortunately, the man was a light sleeper and must have woken to the sound of them stepping through his house. "Stay back, I'm armed," he called from behind a closed bedroom door.

"He's lying," Rick said with a confidence that Kyle wished he shared.

Caleb nodded and threw his shoulder against the bedroom door, sending it open with a bang.

The man rushed him, but Caleb blocked the punch and landed one of his own into the man's midsection. He grappled with the man. "Some help," Caleb said, his breath heavy.

Kyle forced himself forward and swiped at the man's free arm. The two of them managed to get the man down on the ground, wrestling him into submission.

The man turned weepy and afraid. "I ain't got much," he sobbed. "But it ain't worth a life. Just take the TV. I've a little cash on the dresser. That's it. Please, it ain't worth a life."

"It's not," Rick told him as they dragged him out of the bedroom. Ryan was in the bathroom, running a bath. "A life, it turns out, is worth quite a bit more than a TV, to the right being."

Fear turned to adrenaline, and the man surged forward, throwing Kyle against the wall with enough force to make his head spin.

"A situation, Ryan," Caleb called as he struggled to hold the man back.

The man almost got free of Caleb's arms. He reached as far as Rick, to push him out of his way and bolt for the door. Rick grabbed the wrist and gripped it with a strength that Kyle wouldn't have expected. The man fell to his knees with a whimper.

"Don't resist, man," Rick said. "This is an honor few have been offered, even if you are incapable of understanding it yet. You will see God. Now strip him."

Ryan and Caleb grabbed him roughly and yanked the shirt off.

"No, no, no," the man pleaded.

"Enough, we can deal with the rest later," Rick snapped.

Ryan gave Kyle a meaningful look, and Kyle took his place at the man's left. He and Caleb dragged the man into the small bathroom. The tub was half full, enough for their purpose.

"What are you going to do to me?" the man wailed. The smell of urine filled the air suddenly.

Caleb snorted but didn't answer. He put the sole of his foot on the back of the man's knee and forced him to kneel beside the tub. Behind them, Rick was chanting, and Ryan eventually added his voice.

Kyle mouthed the noises along with the others, mostly to distract himself from what his hands were doing. He and Caleb forced the man's head under the water. The man thrashed and fought for what felt like a long time.

When they were done, Rick ordered them to strip the man and put him in the tub. Stripping the body was, in ways, worse than killing him. At least Kyle hadn't had to look at the man's face or get so close to the man's intimate parts. They got him naked and hoisted him into the tub, like he'd been taking a bath.

"Push his head down," Rick commanded. "It must look like he drowned."

Kyle smelled beer. Ryan was standing in the doorway to the bathroom, a half empty can of beer in his hand. He belched, then set the can on the back of the toilet, where it could be reached easily. He had a case that he'd already emptied, and he dumped several cans around the floor, so it looked like the man had overdone it, passed out in the tub and drowned himself.

When they were done, they swept the house for any signs of struggle. They cleaned up as best they could and then relocked the door.

Outside it had grown even colder, and a thin sprinkling of snow was in the air. "You two did a good job," Rick said. "Dagon will be pleased." With that he and Ryan turned and walked back toward their house.

"Come on," Caleb said, his voice hushed and exhausted. "Let's go home."