The Devils of Night by Ben Coulter

Author:Ben Coulter [Coulter, Ben]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2023-06-20T16:00:00+00:00

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He emptied the remains of the jerry can to form a small puddle by the front door. Danika lit a cigarette whilst looking out to the moonlit lake, and then passed him the lighter. He bent down and held it to the edge of the diesel fuel. The bubbling rush of flames followed the trail he’d left across the reception floor, over each of the Mensah brothers first, and their father last. Then it scurried along through the open door of the day room. He hooked his head around the front door frame, holding one hand up to shield his face from the heat of the burning bodies. He couldn’t quite see the flames, as they licked around the wooden floor, and up onto the long sofas, engulfing Lisha in a swirling ball of fire. He pulled his head out and shut the door.

He walked to the van and strapped the empty diesel can back in its place. The half-moon lit up the lake, the house, and the van, with a perfect wash of white light. He looked at Danika. She was still gazing out to the lake, smoking her cigarette. Her back was lit by the stronger glow of flames, which were now tearing through the wooden furniture and floorboards of the house with a wicked fury.

‘Let’s get out of here!’ he said, slamming the back doors shut.

He startled her from her thoughts, and watched as she turned, mentally comparing her to his mother in the painting. She was in the same spot. He held the keys up in the air as she approached.

‘I guess you’ll want to drive?’

He gave her a crooked smile. She flicked her cigarette to the floor and smiled back.

‘Nope, I’ll let you.’ She opened the passenger door. ‘I’ll navigate, you’ll lead us right into the Irish Sea if I let you play with this modern technology.’

She shook the phone around at him as he climbed into the driver’s side. He forced a smile as he turned the key in the ignition. The engine grumbled into life. He eased his foot down on the accelerator. The van creaked away and rocked about over the bumps and humps in the worn track.

His eyes flitted between the burning building, in his mirrors, and the road in front of them. He tried to force his brain to remember more from the day in the painting. He focused in to find a voice, some stray word from her lips, but there was nothing. She kept looking down at him, as her hair blew in the wind. Her eyes were beautiful and powerful. He imagined himself hugging into her, as the small, innocent boy. His heart ached for her love.

He remained quiet, locked in his thoughts, following her directions to the motorway, with only essential replies. She left him alone, monitoring her own feelings as she navigated. She played mellow, acoustic guitar songs from her phone into the van’s stereo system, trying to calm the surges of power still rumbling around inside of her.

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