And that was the crudest truth of all.
Chapter Twelve
"Gaby?"
Anger kept her stewing in silence.
Anger at cancer for being so ugly, so devastating; at Luther for making her curious about things; at God, for making her who she was.
And at herself, for being too weak to change her untenable circumstances.
But she wasn't angry at Mort, so as they exited the air-conditioned hospital and walked out into the balmy night, she swallowed her ire and gave in to him. "What is it?"
"Why were you so upset in the hospital?"
"It's a long story, Mort, but I've known cancer and the damage it does. Being around it, feeling all that malignant evil just makes me ill."
"You felt evil there?"
Through the impenetrable darkness. Gaby gaped at him. "How could you not feel it?"
They reached his beat-up, aged sedan and got inside. Mort started the engine, but didn't drive away. Tall security lamps sent elongated fingers of light through the windshield. Gaby could just see the faint outline of Mort's smile.
"I guess I couldn't feel anything bad because I felt so much good stuff instead."
Good stuff? Had he flipped? "What the hell are you talking about now? Everyone in there has both feet in the friggin' grave. Jesus, Mort, they're all dying."
"Not the people who cared for them. They were alive and busy and they all sounded so concerned for that poor Ms. Davies." His hands flexed on the steering wheel. "That can't be an easy job, Gaby."
It'd be more of a hell than what she already did. "I couldn't do it."
"Me, either. Those people are angels."
Angels on earth? Maybe. She'd never really concerned herself with them. Her purpose centered on evil, not good. "That's my point. It's depressing."
"But they give comfort and hope—"
"Hope for what? A quicker death? A less painful death? Doesn't matter, they're still dead." Why the hell did he want to argue this with her? "I could smell it. The only thing that smelled worse was antiseptic."
"I thought it smelled sterile, to protect the patients from germs." He put the car in gear and pulled out of his parking spot. "I'll tell you what. It smelled a whole lot better than that carcass that got hung in the foyer, or the blood on the stairs. It smelled better than the garbage cans that sit in the sun and bake." He glanced her way. "It smells better than the basement we use to clean our laundry."
Propping her feet on the dash and slumping into her seat, Gaby considered his words—and had to agree. "I guess you're right."
Her concession must've given him courage, because Mort didn't let it go there. "But you picked up on more than the people dying, the nurses, and the smells of the place, didn't you. Gaby?"
She was just tired enough, just fed up enough, to say, "Yeah."
"You know someone there is doing something evil, huh?"
"Someone is always doing something evil, Mort. It's the way of the world. Get used to it."
"But like you said, some stuff is normal evil, and some isn't. When you change, it's to make you better able to deal with the abnormal stuff, huh?" This time, he didn't even give her time to reply. "In the alley, when you fought those… things. You were awesome. Like an avenging angel. Even in movies, I haven't seen anyone move like that. And you didn't look so much like you. It was… well, not weird, so don't get offended again. Just sort of amazing."
Gaby groaned. All her life, she'd assumed if anyone knew the truth of her, they'd call her a freak.
Instead, Mort damn near idolized her.
"There are no superheroes, Mort."
"You saved Luther. You saved that poor girl from more humiliation and worse. Against you, no one stands a chance, not a rapist and not a ghoul."
"Those things after Luther weren't ghouls. They were evil people punished by God, and tormented by a human. Odds are they didn't even know what they were doing. So much suffering would have to affect someone mentally."
"They were attacking Luther!"
"I don't know about that. Neither of them was agile enough or strong enough to do any damage to a big man like him."
"He was hit in the head. Hurt."
"Yeah, but did they do it? I dunno." She put her head back and watched passing shadows out the window. "The one thing had a useless leg. It was there, but the appendage didn't work, so if anything, that would have slowed him down. And that woman… her throat had been eaten away with disease. She only wanted help." Gaby closed her eyes. "Unfortunately for all of us, she was beyond help, in life and death."
"What do you mean?"
"Her body was too deteriorated with disease to ever recover. And her past was too tainted for her to get any type of afterlife. God wouldn't have—"
Catching herself, Gaby clamped her lips together.
Too late; Mort caught her misstep. "God wouldn't have what?"
He wouldn't have sent Gaby to demolish the creature if she'd had any redemption at all. "Nothing."
"Did He send you after her?"
She kept her lips firmly sealed. Anything she said would only make it worse. She'd turned into a damned blabbermouth and that just wouldn't do.
"I saw you, Gaby. I know something happened to you. That's why I followed you. After I saw what you did, well, I want to keep helping."
"You've done enough. But… thanks."
"Could you maybe do an exorcism?"
The absurdity of that almost brought a laugh from the humorless well of her soul. "No."
"But if evil possesses those beings, then maybe an exorcism could—"
"It's not like that, Mort. I wish it were that easy. Evil doesn't come from hell to possess people. It is people. Some people, anyway."
He drove on in silence, rendering Gaby rigid with guilt for stifling his small hope.
Then it struck her, what she wanted to do next. Mort would feel useful, and she could gain more clues. "Hey."
He glanced at her.
"Feel like a drive?"
"Uh… I am driving."
"Yeah, but not in the direction I want." She instructed him toward the section of town where she destroyed the first creature. Rather than go the usual route, she took him past the abandoned Cancer Research Center that she remembered was visible from the road. The broad face of the building stood as an eerie specter in the darkness.
Mort shivered. "Now that feels creepy."
"I know," She opened her door. "You want to help, Mort?"
His uneasy gaze went past her to look again at that imposing structure. "Yeah."
"Then I need you to stay here, with the doors locked and the engine running. No, don't argue."
He closed his mouth against the automatic protests.
"If anyone shows up, anyone suspicious, drive away, but only go around the block and then come back. If you aren't here when I come back out of the woods, I'll hide and wait for you, okay?"
"This isn't a very nice part of town."
So much for him playing sidekick. "No shit, but you'll be safe enough. I promise."
Big eyes turned to her. "You'd feel it if anyone tried to hurt me?"
Hell, she honestly didn't know. It came down to that contrast of commonplace evil versus the deviant, preternatural evil. If a bully came after Mort, a drug dealer or a punk from a gang, that'd be an everyday type of crime, and she might not have a clue. "Look, just keep the doors locked and pay attention, and nothing can hurt you, right?"
His bony shoulders straightened. "Right. I'll be here, Gaby. I won't let you down."
She did not want him to take any stupid chances. "Stow the melodrama and keep alert. I'll be back in fifteen minutes." She slammed the door, waited while Mort secured all the locks, and then faced the anomalistic presence that hid in aged brick and mortar.