The Book of Catherine: Volume Two

By Doug Leonardi

Catherine was already having the worst day in months, starting with being assigned the horrific murder of a childhood friend and ending with a lonely 40th birthday dinner in Boston. But a midnight encounter with the Angel of Justice herself drags her kicking and screaming into a dark world of demons, witches and old gods long forgotten that turn her life into a living Hell overnight. From frazzled and dysfunctional single mother to sovereign Queen of the Amazons, Catherine fights her own demons as well as the ones that escaped the Abyss as she heals, grows and evolves.

The future is bright, but a dark threat lurks in the shadows of the new America in this detective novel turned horror with a taste of hard science fiction. Catherine navigates the alternative history of her world, one where Hillary Clinton won in 2016, and the resulting civil war brought changes that no one saw coming. Between the awesome, epic and often deadly world of 2035 and the politics of gods born before the last ice age, she finds herself the unexpected representative of all mankind before a host of beings from Greek Mythology, Egyptian Mythos, H.P. Lovecraft and beyond.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Doug Leonardi
• Release date: Jul 6, 2018
• ISBN: 9780463275665

Doug Leonardi

Doug Leonardi is a husband, an ex-husband, a father, a step-father, a grandfather and a son. He has been a security guard and a scientist, a butcher and an engineer, sometimes an innovator, often an idiot but always a writer of things.

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the Book of Catherine

By

Doug Leonardi

Volume Two

* * * * *

the Book of Catherine

Copyright © 2018 by Doug Leonardi

Dedicated to the many witches who have loved and hated me, young and old, good and bad, you are all beautiful in your own way and together each made me the man I am today.

So, you can’t really complain, then. Can you? After all. You made me.

Thank you, all.

In loving memory of Catherine Marie Priest.

Daughter, Mother, Lover and Warrior.

128th Sister of the Needle, Diviner of the Way, Speaker for All Men and Keeper of the Flame. Great Protector of All Mankind, Most Reverend of Mothers and High Priestess to Gaia Herself.

Daughter of Nyx, Her Voice on Earth.

Bringer of Justice and Nemesis to all that is Unearthly.

She from whom there is no escape.

Catherine the Bold. Catherine the Red. Catherine the Wild. Queen of the Amazons.

Born April 30th, 1995

Died July 24th, 2036.

...also, deadly Nyx bore Nemesis to afflict mortal men.

- Theogony, by Hesiod 700 BC

Chapter 1 – the Monster Manual

I stand on the corner of 1st and L Street and watch the fire burn. Licks of flame escape from broken windows in the old power plant. Thick black oily smoke rises in a column straight up into a cloud that hangs low over Southie.

I think about the Watchmen, the original graphic novel and Rorschach’s Journal, the pivotal entry when he became Rorschach, for real. He looked into the smoke and learned what it is that cats know, the thing that makes them cry like babies in the night.

There is no God, he said. Only us.

But he was wrong. I know better. I’ve seen His handy work. I’ve met His errand boy. I’ve cleaned up His messes.

People start gathering to watch as the police, then the fire department show up. I lean against the wall and sip my coffee as I take in the spectacle.

There is a heaving sound as the bricks shift. Between the heat, their age and the thirty-foot-long gash that I cut along the east wall I’m surprised they lasted this long.

I watch as the towering smoke stack staggers slightly, almost imperceptibly, then drops straight down into the main structure. A cloud of smoke and dust erupts from the windows and the people all scatter like mice.

I laugh and take a long, satisfying sip. That should do it.

I think about the Hydra inside. Costas said it would regenerate, reform with all new snakes. It would attract them from all around and reprogram their tiny reptile brains with chemicals in the tanks and runes on the walls. It would activate dormant DNA, making even adorable pet store snakes venomously deadly.

They would coalesce into the beast and I’d have to kill it all over again.

I think back to my childhood and remember my Greek mythology. Hercules killed the Hydra. That was one of his labors. Hesiod said the Hydra was a giant serpent with many heads. Toby Jones said cut off one head, two more grow back. You have to get them all at once or it grows back stronger, like a cancer. A tumor.

Everyone knows that.

Then I remember my Advanced Dungeons & Dragons. Hydra aren’t unique they are a species. There wasn’t just one sitting on an island waiting to be killed by Hercules. They were everywhere, hiding in dank caves and abandoned castles. And more importantly, they could be summoned.

Every Magic User and Dungeon Master knows that.

The firemen regroup and start attacking the now collapsed building. There’s nothing to save, not even much to burn, really. They’re just maintaining a perimeter, keeping the crowd safe. Good. I’d hate to be responsible for a first responder getting hurt.

I can do this. I tell myself out loud. How hard can it be? I kill a few snakes now and then, maybe behead a few crazy old psychos. Fuck, I was born for this.

I take another sip and scan the crowd. Across the street a few people watch the fire and take dronies so their friends can see the blaze in real time.

I look past them and see an old man hunched over against the fence that borders the swamp. He is a grey smear in the dawn light. He looks sick and feeble. He is eerily familiar so I keep watching until they move out of the way.

When they do I gasp.

It’s Grey Beard! The same vagrant that has been following me since Monday! He is watching the fire intently. So far he doesn’t notice me.

Suddenly I feel a surge of anxiety well up from deep inside. I’ve never had a panic attack before this week but I’m starting to recognize them and I’m having one now!

My pulse pounds in my ears and my whole body sweats with fear. I barely swallow my coffee before involuntarily coughing. I drop the paper cup and the remaining half splashes across my shoes.

I stand up straight and look calmly across the street, hoping no one noticed me and intent on keeping one eye on him at all times. I don’t even know why but that old bastard scares the living shit out of me!

He still doesn’t notice me. Thank God! He’s still focused on the burning building. Looking at him now, even from a safe distance I feel a creeping doom, a sure and certain death that lurks beneath his form.

He is like a seemingly harmless leaf ahead of me on the path that I know hides a venomous spider. My unconscious screams at me to avoid him at all costs.

I slowly walk away up L and towards Phil. I curse myself for leaving the Needle in his trunk. I figured it was safer, just in case I needed to interact with the police. I’d rather not have to explain the unique weapon that should be in a police evidence locker.

Now I wish I had it under my coat to steady my nerves.

The further I get the faster I walk, the faster I breathe. Halfway there I can’t take it anymore. I duck down the alley behind Parson’s and try to pull myself together.

What the hell am I so afraid of? He’s an old man? He’s fucking homeless, for crying out loud! What can he do, shiv me? I’ve dealt with much worse than him when I was a rookie, and now I’m armed with a bronze aged light sabre to compliment my 21st century hand cannon!

It doesn’t matter. Nothing matters. I feel like a little kid afraid of the boogie man, hiding under my covers in the dark.

I can’t shake the fear from my bones. A formless, cold fear that covers my skin and whispers to me on every level that he is more than he seems, more than I can handle. It tells me he is death incarnate, plain and simple.

I lean forward and hyperventilate into my hands. I try to think outside the box. I decide to call a friend.

Hey, Cat! Long time no see! Stephanie quips from the back of my hand. It’s been less than twelve hours since we had dinner together at the Manor. I’m actually surprised she’s awake. I wonder if she even sleeps.

Hey. Listen, I manage between breaths. I’m having a ….a little bit of an… anxiety attack here. I ….I kinda need your help. You …uh….have a minute …to talk?

Sure! she says. I am about to explain my problem when she cuts me off.

I’ll be right there. She says and hangs up.

Hello? I say to myself, apparently. Wait, I...

I tap the screen and start to call her back but before it connects she steps around the corner waving to me.

Were you nearby? I ask naively.

Oh, please. She laughs. You’re so cute. Didn’t you read the books I gave you?

Last night? I think about the five thick, handwritten books sitting in my closet beneath a pile of laundry. No, sorry. I ….I haven’t had ….the chance yet.

She notices how out of breath I am and rushes to my side.

Oh, my! Sweetie! What’s wrong?

I don’t know! Panic attack! I can’t stop shaking! I say, my pulse still beating hard and fast. Something is wrong!

OK, calm down.

I can’t! I say between breaths, hyperventilating. I can’t!

Do you need me to help you calm down? she asks cautiously. You know, like Emily did?

I think about it a moment and nod my head, giving her consent to do her voodoo on me if that’s what it takes. At least this time I’ll know what to expect.

Yes. Please. I confirm, then add anxiously. Now.

OK, I’ll try. I’m not as good at this as she is. She’s a natural empath, I’m a fire starter. I usually only do this for, well, fun.

I look at her with a mixture of confusion and curiosity just before she raises her hand to my temple and says in a firm, commanding voice RELAX!

I feel the familiar pulse of warmth enter my body from her finger tips and ripple across my nerves. Adrenaline and toxins are expelled from receptors and replaced by dopamine and serotonin, and something else.

My mind and my muscles relax, like yesterday, and I can breathe again, but along with the calm comes a tingling, exciting warmth that oozes over me and resonates within my belly. It takes me a moment to realize that I am getting turned on.

I look at her with happy surprise and she smiles.

Sorry. She offers a weak excuse. I told you, I do it a little differently than Emily. You OK?

I blink a few times and try to suppress what I know is an external emotion, pushed on my body artificially, but the hormone cocktail is already flowing through my veins and before I know it I’m thinking warm, wet thoughts.

Hey, are you OK? she asks with a wry smile.

Yeah. I stammer. Yeah, thanks. I….I…you do that a lot?

Sometimes. She says coyly. With friends.

OK, then. I take a moment to shake off the buzz.

So, what’s wrong? What got you so worked up?

Well, I came here just before dawn and, well, did that.

I point to the burning pile of rubble two blocks away that used to be the power plant. They are just starting to get the blaze under control with foam.

Oh. She says, taken aback. Were you trying to burn it down?

Actually, yes. I admit. I killed the last of the snakes that were starting to regroup, and I figured the best way to get rid of the mojo was to just bring it all down.

Well, good work then. She surveys the scene. Mission accomplished. No one got hurt, and no one seems to have even noticed you. What are you worried about?

I glance around the corner just enough to see the crowd and point vaguely.

That guy!

She follows my gaze.

The guy in the jacket? she asks, confused.

No! The old guy behind him!

She squints and tries to see what I see. It’s obvious she doesn’t.

The homeless dude? she asks, surprised by my fear. I nod, still shaken by looking at him.

He does look creepy, I’ll admit. He’s definitely got that Aqualung vibe going on, but he seems harmless enough to me. I mean, unless you’re a fifteen year-old school girl in England.

No! I insist. He’s not! He’s …something else!

She looks at me with concern, then looks back at Grey Beard again trying to see the danger that has me so terrified. I watch her eyes for signs of understanding and see none.

I believe you. She says finally. I just don’t see it, or sense it, which is odd in itself.

She bites her lip, deciding whether to do something she shouldn’t. Finally, she turns to me and sets her jaw. Her thin lips convey a serious question is coming.

Do you trust me? she finally asks.

I think about it. I just met her yesterday, but I called her for a reason. Of all the women in the coven I feel most comfortable with her, and I need some witchy help right now.

Yes.

I need to see what you see, in your mind’s eye. I need to see your memories of him. What is triggering your fear.

She starts to raise her hands to my head again and I flinch.

Wait! You’re not gonna make me even more horny, are you? Because I’ll tell you, I’m about ready to go home and take a shower right now.

No. she says, blushing a little. "I promise I won’t