Epoch by Timothy Carter Page B

” Chanteuse began.
    “First ya blow off a customer to go talk to your buddy,” Mr. L unts said, “then yer not around to help us keep order during a crisis. Didn’t ya see that?” He pointed at the caved-in ceiling without taking his eyes—or his frown—off her.
    “I did see … ” Chanteuse began.
    “Ya saw that, but ya didn’t come over to help customers,” Mr. Lunts said. “Just too busy talkin’ on an unscheduled break with your buddy. Gonna cost ya, little girl.”
    Vincent looked past Mr. Lunts and saw the demons. They had turned in his direction, and were slowly moving forward.
    “We don’t have time for this,” Vincent said. “Sir, we have … ”
    “Shut up, kid,” Mr. Lunts said. “Chanteuse, what’ve you got to … ”
    “Mr. Lunts,” Chanteuse said with an intensity that surprised her manager and Vincent, “there is no call to be rude.”
    “Don’t you interrupt me,” Mr. Lunts said, poking a finger at her. “You’re in enough trouble.”
    You don’t know the half of it, Vincent thought as he watched the demons approach.
    “We have to go,” he said, taking Chanteuse’s hand.
    “You can go, I don’t care,” Mr. Lunts replied, “but you, Chanteuse, are gonna help us clean up the place, then we’re gonna have us a talk in my office.”
    “I’m sorry, Mr. Lunts,” Chanteuse said, “but … ”
    “Don’t be sorry, be busy,” Mr. Lunts said.
    “We have to move!” Vincent said, tugging Chanteuse’s arm. “Forget this idiot.”
    “Idiot?!?” Mr. Lunts barked. “Now look, you little dweeb … ”
    “Mr. Lunts!” Chanteuse snapped.
    “Watch that attitude, young lady,” Mr. Lunts said. “Or you’re gonna be in deep trouble.”
    “Oh, shut up,” Nod said, exploding out of the root beer cup and landing a solid uppercut on Mr. Lunts’s chin. The store manager flew up and backward, right into two of the approaching demons.
    “There you are!” roared the third demon. “Bix has you now, pixie!”
    “Heck!” cried Nod, and fled.
    The demon named Bix sped after the pixie, then stopped suddenly when Vincent grabbed hold of his legs.
    “Get off!” he cried, jamming its claws into Vincent’s arms. Vincent yelped and let go, but Bix also yelped as magical pain jammed into him.
    “I thought you said they couldn’t hurt you!” Chanteuse said, seeing the blood on Vincent’s arms.
    “They’re not allowed to,” Vincent replied as he snatched a mop from a stunned employee. “That’s why he’s hurt, too.” Vincent swung the mop around in an arc and smacked the demon right between the wings. Down Bix went, bouncing like a rubber ball when he hit the floor and landing next to an abandoned shopping cart. Vincent quickly upturned the cart, covering the demon under a mountain of milk cartons and frozen meat and vegetables and cereal boxes and cupped puddings before caging the beast with the cart’s frame.
    One down. But two still to go.
    Those two demons crawled out from under the store manager, shook out their wings, and took to the air. Vincent charged them, swinging the mop like a pro, but the demons flew off too quickly.
    “Rats!” Vincent said. “Chanteuse, we gotta … ”
    But Chanteuse was nowhere to be seen. Vincent grumbled, then hurried off after the demons. He hoped Nod hadn’t fled the store yet, because he had another plan.
    There was a loud commotion coming from several aisles away. Vincent ran, mop in hand, toward a large cloud of flour, baking soda, and pudding mix. When he arrived he saw one of the demons rubbing its eyes and flying blind. Clearly, Nod had set an effective trap. The other demon, and Nod, were gone.
    “Batter up,” Vincent said as the demon came within range. He swung, and hit a home run right into the demon’s mouth. It chomped down even as the mop struck, biting off the end before sailing up over the aisles and away.
    “Two down,” Vincent said, tossing the now-useless cleaning tool and running on.
    A few aisles over,