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by David Berardelli
Description: Sexy, sassy and dead, Tiffany LeBouf is pulled into Hell by the incompetent demon Gutril. Paired with the demon Chip, she is sent to find Gutril after he is summoned to Ohio by a teenage girl goofing off with a spell she'd found online . They are given three days to find Gutril and bring him back before he can select a mortal host and remain here. As a spirit, Tiffany finds that she has the ability to change her breast size at will and conjure up any outfits she desires. She also realizes that her new powers can keep her from being forced to return to Hell.
eBook Publisher: ebooksonthe.net/ebooksonthe.net, 2009 ebook
eBookwise Release Date: June 2009
2 Reader Ratings:
Available eBook Formats: OEBFF Format (IMP) [505 KB]
Reading time: 268-375 min.
Friday night at the Dump
Todd Bochner eased his refurbished '67 Camaro convertible off the main road at the crest of the wooded hill and suddenly stopped.
In the twin headlight beams, a large, wavy pile of barbed wire and an old tricycle blocked their path. "I ain't going in there, man," he said, and crossed his arms over his skinny chest.
Beside him, Darcy McGill twisted in her seat. She suspected he'd do something stupid. But right now she just wasn't in the mood for it. "Why not?"
"There's shit all over the place. Don't wanna get Cammie scratched and all messed up."
"It's trash," she said. "We're at the dump, remember? Go around it."
"It's barb wire."
"Know what barb wire'll do to paint and metal?"
She sighed. She hated when guys whined. "I give up. What'll barbed wire do to paint and metal?"
"Scratch it up."
"Only if you get too close to it."
He shook his head. "Don't wanna go anywhere near it."
Leon Bellson, his glossy eyes blinking from the grass he and Todd had just sucked up on their way over, poked his Alfred E. Newman face between the front seats. "Heavy duty," he whispered. "That tri sure looks like it'll scorch up some pavement!" Then he giggled.
"Put your dickhead button in the off position," Todd said, his Jughead features squeezed into a frown. "And keep your zits off the upholstery. I just cleaned it."
Darcy cursed herself for asking them to bring her out here. When she first asked Todd during Study Hall, his face lit up like neon. She knew what that meant but decided not to give it another thought. If her Nissan hadn't been sitting in the shop all week, she wouldn't have even bothered. Todd was the only one available on such short notice on a Friday night. If he wanted to think something else would happen, let him. All guys were sloshing around in testosterone--she couldn't help that.
She asked Leon to go along because she didn't want to be alone with Todd. Todd and Leon were tight, so Todd didn't mind too much. They were jerks, although Leon could actually carry on an intelligent conversation at times.
But right now Leon wasn't himself. The weed had kicked in. But at least he wasn't the perv Todd was. As they cruised out of town, she'd caught Todd drooling. Probably because the low cut of her tank top showed the mole over her left breast. But that didn't bother her too much. Todd was a hopeless slobberer--he'd do his thing if she was covered in burlap.
But that didn't concern her right now. Getting Todd to budge was the issue. The City Dump sat a mile farther down. People brought out their trash at night and made a mess of the whole area. Some obviously didn't mind pulling off the shoulder and dumping right there at the entrance.
Todd's Camaro was his pride and joy--she should have known he'd be funny about taking it into the woods. But she'd gotten him this far.
She opened her door.
"Going for a walk?" His eyes sparkled. "Want some company?"
"I'm going to clear the way so I don't have to hear you whining about scratching up your lady." She stepped into the overgrown grass and, ignoring the tingles of the tall weeds brushing her bare arms, approached the tangled clump.
Todd gunned the Camaro, making it roar like an angry lion. He chuckled. "I could leave you here, ya know."
She patted her pocket. "I could call my uncle, ya know."
His grin vanished.
Mentioning her uncle, Clancy Hawkins, Raven's finest deputy, had gotten her out of some tight spots. Not that she'd actually call Uncle Hawk--not unless she faced an emergency. But it sure kept jerks like Todd in line.
Using the Camaro's headlights to investigate the area, she found a foot-long section of rusty wire containing no barbs. She carefully wrapped her fingers around it, making sure no barbs were close enough to catch her jeans or tank top. Just as she started to pull, she heard footsteps behind her. Leon reached out to help.
"You're making me feel like a first-class jerk," Todd called.
"Nothing about you is first-class," Darcy said.
Leon giggled, and together they dragged the barbed wire clear of the path.
Leon rushed back over to the tricycle and straddled it.
"Leon..." Darcy couldn't understand how so little weed could affect him so much. Quiet and considerate one minute, then you blinked and he'd turned back into an idiot.
After a couple of tumbles, he stood and pushed the tricycle into the trees. "Growing up's a bitch," he said.
"Why? Because you're too big to sit on a tricycle?"
He giggled and patted her shoulder. "I knew someone would understand."
They got back in.
"You two finished playing around out there?" Todd asked.
"Now it's safe to go down that hill," she said, pulling the door shut.
He shrugged. "I see shit farther down. Wanna get back out and clear the path?"
She gazed into the headlight beams. Just weeds and tall grass. "I don't see anything."
"You don't see that pile of crap down there?"
"Weeds, Todd. Those are weeds. No one mows out here."
Leon had stuck his head between the seats again. "Heavy-duty. Looks like a little Nativity scene."
"You're totally such a dorkster." Todd put it back in gear and eased down the slope.
"Where's this party again?" Leon asked.
"The abandoned mine," Todd said. "And you heard what I said about those zits."
Leon sat back and felt his cheeks. "Guess I should've popped them before you picked me up."
The mine served as the subject of folklore for years. A cave-in made the headlines just before World War II. Casualties were minimal, but ghost and demon stories abounded anyway.
Darcy grew up hearing all sorts of yarns. The theories outnumbered the tall tales. Evil had caused the collapse of the mine. Several of the religious miners painting crosses on the rock walls had angered Lucifer. The dark force retaliated by shaking the earth, making it crack, resulting in the cave-in.
Four years ago, when she started high school, she discovered black magic and read everything she could find about it. Before long it hooked her. She'd gotten far more into it than many of the other kids. She also read that it strongly influenced acid rock of the late sixties, creating its own culture. San Francisco boasted more devil worshipers than gays back then, with Anton LaVey starting up his own church. With the help of the Beatles, Aleister Crowley enjoyed a triumphant rebirth during this time. The greatest classic bands--the Stones, Megadeth, Black Sabbath and others--all dealt heavily with the Darkworld. Or so the rumors went.
During the last few years, the culture experienced a strange resurrection. What with Rap, Goth, Grunge, vampire flicks and demon shows, and the growing hatred in the world, Satan had slithered back into the spotlight.
Local rumors also persisted of a secret society that supposedly met in the abandoned mine years ago to worship Satan. Darcy wasn't sure she believed it but grew instantly curious last Saturday night, as she and her friend Sheila McKay came home after watching the Union Local High School football team practice. A quarter of a mile straight ahead, Mayor Holeridge's shiny Cadillac, without lights, pulled off Raven Road West onto the dirt path.
Surprised and curious, Darcy immediately engaged in a heated debate with Sheila.
Why would the Mayor drive down to the dump at night?
To drop off trash.
Trash? In a Cadillac?
To dump a body.
In the Mayor's personal ride?
To meet a girlfriend.
At the dump?
To take a leak.
At the dump?
But there didn't seem to be any reason--other than the age-old legend of the secret society--to explain the strange occurrence.
"Guess I should've brought my player and some sounds," Leon said. "A party isn't a party without sounds."
"Don't need sounds," Todd said, chuckling. "Our favorite cheerleader babe wants to conjure up a badass demon. He'll provide the sounds."
Darcy wanted to backhand Todd square in the face. Lucky for him he was driving. She abhorred violence, but Todd raked her nerves much too often.
"Really?" Leon asked. "A genuine demon?"
"Horns, pitchforks and a long, pointed tail," Todd said, cackling loudly.
"You really think you can do it?" Leon actually seemed interested.
Darcy shrugged. Best keep this low-keyed. She didn't want to hear any more of Todd's tasteless jokes. "I keep hearing demons are out here. I want to see if there's anything to it."
Todd shook his head. "Man, just 'cause she looks like Buffy, she thinks she ought to--"
"Please stop that stupid Buffy talk. I look nothing like her. She's blonde, for one thing--"
"Only one way to know that for sure," Todd said, grinning devilishly.
"Todd Bochner, you can really be crude when you want to be."
"Just 'cause demons are out here don't mean you can conjure one up and take the sucker home," he said.
"Demons. Heavy-duty." No longer serious, Leon went right back to being silly. "Think they'd go for a buzz?"
"They're spirits." She pushed an impatient hand through her long black hair. "They don't need a buzz."
"Everyone could use a buzz once in a while..."
She turned around and gazed into Leon's glossy, blinking eyes. "If you could fly around, disappear and make weird stuff happen, why would you need anything else?"
"Heavy-duty." Leon bounced in the seat. "I'd make mean old Mr. Amos Boswell Gordon pull down his pants and moon history class. Serve him right, giving me a frigging C on that last pop quiz!"
Darcy sat silently and tried to ignore their disgusting cackling.
The city had sliced a wide path in the ground to accommodate Frank Miller's garbage trucks. A toxic dump spoiled the old farmland a mile or so down the path beyond the mine. That suited Darcy just fine. She didn't want to venture out too far. She'd heard enough to know to avoid going near a place oozing noxious chemicals.
The path leveled off. Beyond the felled trees, a dome-shaped mound the size of one of those earth houses she'd seen on the Science Channel sat like a giant animal sleeping in the darkness.
Another roll of barbed wire lay half-hidden in the weeds. Broken bottles glittered like fireflies in his headlights.
Todd stopped. "Here we go again."
"Does your steering wheel work?" she asked curtly.
"Sure does. You know it does."
"Then shut up and use it."
"Babes." Todd reluctantly did as she said.
When they could go no farther, Todd turned off the ignition but kept the lights on. The eerie glow flickered like critters running around in the bushes.
"Sure this is the spot?" Darcy asked.
Darcy shot him a glare. Todd could be so vulgar. No wonder he never got dates.
He found his flashlight and slammed the glovebox shut. His knuckles brushed her left thigh.
She ignored the contact. "Where's the entrance?"
"Straight down the slope."
"I heard a secret club of rich guys comes out here." Leon giggled. "Maybe they left some neat stuff in there."
"Like what?" Todd asked.
"Money? Jewelry? Maybe a Snickers bar or a Milky Way?"
Darcy sighed. Leon sure was outdoing his silliness tonight.
"You that wasted, man?" Todd asked.
"Just a little spacey. I've also got the munchies." Leon squinted. "Did you know you've got a long black hair growing out your nostril?"
"The left one. Want me to pull it out?"
"Don't be such a total dorkster." Todd switched off the low beams. He grabbed his stash and a bottle of Wild Turkey from under the seat.
Darcy picked up her witchcraft book and the printout of the spell she'd found online. Her pulse thumping, she followed Todd and Leon down the wild, uneven path.
* * * *