Convoke - Chapter 9: Chapter 9

Tom leapt out of the way of a man who was pushed into the door. He flew through the exit with a bone cracking thud on the paving slabs. Another person landed by his feet after tripping over someone else who was already on the ground.
Tonight, there wasn't a fight between a local and a demon, there was a fight between three demons and the rest of the pub. "Shit," Tom grumbled, immediately jumping into action. He shoved three people aside before he could get to the nearest demon, the fifteen-year-old who had blurted Ezrakhell's name ten days ago. Talking wouldn't do, Tom could already see the mania in his wide eyes.
The young demon struck someone down, turning his back to Tom who elbowed him hard between his shoulder blades. The demon grunted and arched his back in pain. Tom grabbed his arms and tried to plough him through the pub, but the locals were yelling in the demon's face, and getting in his way.
"Move!" Tom roared. "Get out of the fucking way!"
"Don't ignore my son!" Declan yelled, pushing the locals aside. Declan held the door open as Tom threw the young demon out. An angel was running down the path, and Ezra appeared right next to Tom, barely disturbing the air.
Tom looked up as Ezra looked down. Light rain drizzled between them. Ezra gave Tom a slight nod of reassurance before storming towards the younger demon. Tom and his dad hurried back inside. The fighting continued, and his mother was in the heart of it. Moira was throwing punches to anyone who purposefully got in her way. She held back a demon, screaming at the locals to get out of her pub. Some listened, others were too drunk to care whether they were banned or not.
Another demon yanked Moira's ponytail and she fell backwards, dragging another demon with her. Tom punched the demon in the ribs which loosened his grip on the ponytail. Tom then punched him across the jaw and the demon spun, landing on top of a table. He tried to contain his wild arms, but the demon turned quickly and smacked him hard across the face. Tom crashed into a square table. The corner dug into the back of his thigh, and he fell to the floor wincing.
The demon jumped on top of Tom, kneeling so hard on his chest that he struggled to take a breath. He punched Tom in the face, and he felt warm blood tricking down over his mouth. The pain made his eyes water.
With his vision blurred, he heard only screaming and smashing glass. Tom desperately blinked back his tears as the demon lifted his fist again, but Ezrakhell appeared and clutched the demon around the neck, yanking him off.
Tom rolled onto his stomach and hauled himself up, using a metal stool to help his feet find the floor. He wiped the back of his hand cross his face. His pale skin soaked in red. Tom's face and chest throbbed. He doubled over when his mouth watered, thinking he was going to be sick. A hand slapped on his shoulder and Finn leaned over him. "He gave you a good punch, didn't he?"
"Yep," Tom breathed. "And you by the looks of it." He looked up. Finn's lip was cut, and his left eyes was beginning to swell. "What happened in here?"
"Demons, that's what."
Tom shook his head and went to find his parents. They were outside talking to the angels while Ezra leaned over the last remaining demon, muttering lowly something Tom couldn't understand. His hand hovered above the demon's face. Tom watched as the demon stilled, and the body withered into the grass, half turning to dust and blowing away in the wind, half turning to soil and sinking into the darkness.
Ezra stood up when the body was gone. He glanced towards the angel then towards Tom, before walking around the back of the pub.
Tom followed, wiping away more blood from his nose and rubbing it on his jacket. Ezra stopped by a wooden table under the oldest tree on the property. He sat down and rested his boots on the wooden bench.
"Thanks for helping," Tom said, digging hands in his pockets despite wanting to hold his throbbing face.
"Are you okay?" Ezra asked.
Tom wanted to say No, I think I might projectile vomit all over the grass. But he said, "Yes. Are you?"
"Yes."
They stared at each other. Well, Tom looked at him the best he could with Ezra's hood covering most of his face. "It can't go on like this," Tom said, stepping closer. "The violence. It's getting way out of hand."
"It is."
"The angel's influence isn't working. The hate is growing worse every month, I just don't understand why or what to do."
"That's why I'm here."
"Because of the violence?"
"Yes. There's something not right. I'm trying to find out what's happening."
"How?"
Ezra shrugged. "My first step is research, which is why I'm reading up about this place."
"Is it getting out of hand in this area only?"
"No, but something has happened in this area twice now- something that should never have happened."
"What is it?" Tom asked, but someone shouted his name before Ezra could reply.
"Hey," Declan said, running over. "Are you alright son?"
Tom turned away to see if his dad was okay too. When he looked back to the table, Ezra was gone, along with his secrets.
Tom helped his parents clean up. Three stools were broken, eleven glasses had been smashed, and the window on the front door was cracked. They shut the pub early and sat down together at the table closest to the bar. Tom had cleaned his face and changed his clothes. He sipped on a double vodka and coke, staring glumly into the table, until his mother finally said, "We need strict rules now. Anyone who starts fights like that will be banned for the rest of the year."
"This may sound pretty backwards, but maybe we need a demon area and a human area," Declan recommended. "You know, just somewhere everyone can feel safe."
"Or maybe we should stop letting demons in," Gerry said who sat at the bar with Neasa. Tom's niece had already gone to bed.
"Who's we?" Moira snapped. "You don't work here. You don't get an opinion."
"I might not work here, but I do live upstairs. This place is a goddam circus. Every night there's something. At least once a week I'm losing out on sleep because of this place. It's wild."
"Then move out, Gerry," Declan said after a long sip of his larger.
"You know fine well we haven't found our perfect home yet."
"Why? You've been looking for two years," Tom mumbled.
"In case you didn't know, buying a house is a big responsibility, Tom."
"How stupid do you think I am?" Tom asked.
"Guys, can we all just calm down, please!" Neasa begged.
Tom gripped his glass tightly, glaring at Gerry, wishing he could wipe that smug look off his face. He was the only one who made Tom visibly angry. He hated him so much that Gerry didn't have to do a lot to start an argument. He knew he shouldn't bite back because that's what Gerry always wanted. Tom turned his attention back to his parents. "We should definitely make some new rules because one of us is gonna end up seriously inj-"
"You know what your problem is, Tom," Gerry interrupted, getting off his stool and crossing arms firmly over his chest. "You aspire to be a nobody and so do your friends. That's the reason this village is going downhill. People your age have no clue what it's really like."
"Watch what you say about my son!" Declan yelled, shaking his head. "You can't handle your drink. I think you should go upstairs while we talk about this."
"I live here, I get a say."
Moira clenched her jaw and ignored him. "Maybe we should start serving things out of plastic cups. It's getting too expensive replacing the glasses. Or make the demons-welcome sign bigger with warnings underneath for the people causing trouble. And potentially even get a bouncer or two on the door."
Gerry scoffed. "A bouncer for a pub in this little village? You'll be a laughingstock. There's only one big problem here, and that is your demon infestation. Just ban them like everyone else and you'll be fine."
"They're not the problem though," Declan argued back.
As the arguing bounced back and forth between them, all Tom could think about was how much his nose hurt, and how much his head pounded, and how much he needed silence. He stood so abruptly, the arguing paused for long enough for him to say, "I'm going for a walk."
Gerry made a snarky comment about him not handling conflict, and Tom left even quicker when his sister joined in on yelling at her husband. Tom didn't know why Gerry was so hard on him and judged every little thing he did. One day, he thought to himself. One day he'll move out, or I'll move out, and I'll never have to see him again.
He stormed down the path onto the country road. Instead of walking towards the village, he walked the opposite way. He thought about going to Cal's house to vent, but his girlfriend was visiting, and he didn't want to dampen their mood.
Tom pressed on until he neared the first dull orange streetlight near Cal's house, with plans of walking past to sulk by Berry Pond, until the flash of car headlights blinded him. A car sped down Cal's street, skidding around the corner at a speed that would surely smash anything that collided with it into a thousand pieces.
Tom froze as the car skidded towards him. He made eye contact with the driver, Cal's father, who was gasping and slamming his foot on the break. But that wasn't enough, the car was already skidding on the smooth concrete. The tires burned and screeched, the engine roared, the lights were painfully bright against the night sky.
All Tom could do was lift his arms up, ready to protect his head, until something else clashed with him first- something from his right. Tom was pushed into the bushes, and he fell into a ditch on the other side. Someone fell on top of him, but Tom laid still with a thumping heart.
He heard the car shriek to a halt and a door open. "Tom? TOM!" Cal's dad yelled frantically.
Tom sat up when the air returned to his lungs. The other figure moved back. The yellow head lights shone through the bush and onto their faces. Ezrakhell with his hood down, locked Tom's stunned gaze.
Ezra's black hair was covered in bits of hay and grass. His brown eyes were wide and full of panic. His lips were parted from breathing heavily. He had one hand on his chest, and one gripping the verged bank they had fallen into.
Before Tom could do or say anything, Cal's dad peered down at them from the gap in the bushes. "Tom! Are you okay?" he asked with eyebrows almost reaching his hairline. "I could have killed you! I could have killed my son's best friend! I could have killed my best friend's son!"
Tom's attention returned to Ezra, who was still watching him. His eyes were less wide, but still shaped with deep concern. Before he thanked Ezra for saving his life, Tom clenched his hands into fists, getting ready to pour the stress of the evening all over Cal's dad in a heated rage.