SNAFU: Survival of the Fittest

Enrique’s son-in-law called out from the kitchen. “What’s going on in there? It sounds like you’re breaking furniture.”

I nodded for Gomer to talk to them. After he left, Burgess closed the door behind him.

I glanced at the Licking Boy, whose head was turned at an odd angle as he listened to the Box Man’s childish laughter and slurping sounds.

I bent over and put my hands on my knees. “Can you hear me?”

The Box Man twitched on the floor, with minute jerks of its legs and arms.

“We need to speak with you.”

The Box Man stilled.

This was the tough part. It was only a fragment, but the fragment didn’t know it. It thought it was its entire existence. It felt whole because it didn’t know any better.

I knelt lower and whispered. “Enrique, this is Madsen. Do you remember me?”

“Maddie Maddie Madsen.”

“Yes. Madsen. Tell us what happened.”

“Light bright fight kite sight night…”

“Rhyming loop,” I said to Burgess, who was recording everything on a notepad.

I banged the side of the metal box with my knuckles and the rhyming stopped. “Enrique? Tell us what happened.”

He began to hum a recognizable tune.

“It’s the theme to the television show Perry Mason,” I said to Burgess. He had to record everything. Trying to understand a fragment was like trying to decipher a riddle. You had to have all the clues or you might never figure it out.

I knocked on the side of the box once more and the humming stopped.

Then he began to growl. Low at first, it grew louder and louder, until it sounded like a mountain lion was in the room with us.

I glanced at Burgess and the Licking Boy, who both had looks of worry on their faces. This was absolutely something new. I hadn’t encountered anything like this at all.

“Enrique, what’s happening?”

The roaring stopped, replaced by a tiny voice. “Pain. It can’t get out. I won’t let it out. I won’t…” Box Man sighed heavily. The timbre of the voice changed to someone completely different. In a sophisticated whisper it said, “It’s gone and so am I.” Then the Box Man stopped breathing.

I dragged a key ring out of my pocket and flipped madly through the chain. I found the key I wanted and hurriedly unlocked the box. It fell open, revealing the sickly skin of the Box Man. I turned his body so I could get to his ruined, spotchy face. His eyes were wide. Spittle dotted his mouth.

I looked around and found a lamp on the nightstand. I ripped free the wire, stripped the ends, then jammed them into his mouth. The effect was instantaneous. The home’s power went brown, then returned to full as the zap snapped inside the Box Man’s mouth.

His eyes snapped shut, then open.

He began to weep.

I closed the box and locked it shut.

The door opened and Gomer burst in. The son-in-law was behind him.

The young man glanced at the Box Man and at me. “What’s going on?”

“How long was your dad possessed?”

He glanced towards the bed then back to me. “What are you talking about?”

“The egg beneath the bed is a cleansing spell. The candles are for protection. He didn’t have Alzheimer’s. He had a demon inside of him didn’t he?”

The young man licked his lips, then hung his head. “We were trying to get it out.”

“But your father didn’t want it to leave. He was keeping it inside to protect something.”

“We don’t need protection.”

“I beg to fucking differ.” I reached down and grabbed the egg. I hurled it against one of the white walls. It exploded in blood. “Also realize that it might not have been you he was trying to protect.” I got to my feet, then gestured to Burgess. “Get these two back to the warehouse then meet me back at HQ.” I shoved my way through the door. It was all so unfuckingly unnecessary. “Let’s go, Gomer.”

“What about the family?”

“They say they don’t need protection.”

“But—”

“Let them reap what they sowed.”

SAN FRANCISCO

July 8, 1970

Mid-morning

“Do we know what kind of demon it was?” Gomer asked.

I shook my head. “We have a call into NSA asking them for his case file, but they’re never going to give that up. I did find out from a backchannel source that Enrique was replaced by USAF Major Everett Duncan. I have his contact information in Monte Rio.”

“So this Everett is the new Cerberus for The Bohemian Grove?”

“It appears so. And know what else? We now have a reason to go there.”

Gomer smiled.

Instead of smiling with him, I got up and went to Doris’s desk. I needed to confront her about this. I just stood there staring at her, saying nothing. Everything I needed to communicate was in my frown. It took about half a minute until she lowered her head and sighed.

“They just wanted to know what you were doing,” she said. “They’re very sensitive about The Bohemian Grove.”

“And Harold?”

She gave me a long stare, then answered, “He’s part of the security detail for Air Force One. He’s also a reserve pilot.”

I stared for half a minute longer then sighed. “I can’t exactly get mad at you for trying to protect the president.”

She smiled slightly. “I was hoping you’d see it that way.”

“So he’s going to be traveling there for the yearly gathering?”

She nodded. “From what I understand.”