Welcome To Hell.A.

by Stephens, L.

Jake could feel sweat on his forehead, and scary thoughts of why Marco had pulled him straight into the back room filled his head. His hand involuntarily started rubbing his chest again before he pulled it away and placed it on the bar.

  “Well,” Jake said as he casually turned around to see if there would be some hired goons waiting to take him away. “You going to give me a hint?”

  “I think you know what this is about,” Marco said as he picked up his glass. “It’s not some slut. No one really gives a fuck about that, and if they did you’d know about it already. Just give those fucking diamonds back, my friend.”

  Jake winced on the outside this time. Even though at the time they didn’t know his real name and only had a vague description of him, he knew it would eventually come back and bite him on the ass. He was just glad it was Marco standing across the bar from him offering him tequila and not some back alley assassin with a syringe full of HIV-infected blood.

  “Well, fucking, salud!” he said as he offered his glass to Marco.

  “Salud, Jake,” Marco said grimly and clinked his glass with Jake’s.

  @KillingJake fucking haunted… I’m damned if I do, damned if I fucking don’t. Oh well, nice knowing y’all. #SeeYouInHell

  CHAPTER 32: ROOKIE SHIT

  Daryl parked the van in the secluded parking lot and jumped out to look around. There was clearly no one in the parking lot, so he lifted up the ski mask and transformed it back into a beanie. It didn’t sit well with him that he was still in the heart of downtown. He’d rather be torching the truck out in Riverside, where a burning vehicle was just another day in the Inland Empire. Normally, that’s exactly what he’d do, but he didn’t want Max stiffing him on the rest of the payment because he didn’t follow the plan to the letter. Even with the job almost over, his gut was telling him to just walk away, to just put this whole mess behind him, but his mind was overruling it. Everything so far had gone just like clockwork. Daryl’s worrying had been a trait that had served him well, because it always made him sure to have a backup plan. His friends, like Jake, were able to put worries on layaway for another day, and he was envious of them and their lack of golf-ball-sized ulcers in their stomachs. He had two exit strategies ready to go if things went bad, three if you counted the hell in a handbasket plan—kill everyone involved. Except for Jake, he’d just torture him.

  He opened the back doors of the van and got the jerry can ready. The quicker he could torch the truck, pay Ray for a job well done and get the fuck out of downtown the better. Everything was ready, but one thing was missing. Well two things. Ray and the fucking truck. He was starting to curse himself for letting Ray drive the truck, but he didn’t want to be caught with it, and he really didn’t know how to drive a truck, so he was at the mercy of a guy he barely knew. The relief was palpable when the Greytech truck finally squeezed its way through the tight alley and into the parking lot. Daryl had been about to call Ray when he heard the truck coming, so he put the phone back in his pocket and played it cool. His thoughts kept going to his bedside table and the stack of cash he had left there.

  “Keep your mind on the game,” Daryl said to himself as he got the jerry can from the back of the van.

  The truck stopped in the middle of the parking lot, and Daryl swaggered over to it. His relief in Ray actually turning up had given him confidence. The job was almost over.

  “Who the fuck chose this location? Surprised not to see Harry fucking Potter trying to buy a fucking wand back there,” Ray said, jumping down from the cab of the truck. “It took me about five tries to get in that fucking alley.”

  “Hey, just following the instructions,” Daryl said, walking past. “We’re almost done. Let’s finish the job.”

  “What you doing with that?” Ray asked as Daryl walked past.

  “We’re gonna have a little bonfire!” Daryl said brightly, holding the jerry can up like he was a champion with his trophy. “Got any marshmallows?”

  Daryl started pouring gasoline on the side of the truck. As he painted the Greytech logo with flammable liquid, he decided that he should have done the job alone. He was kicking himself. It was all so clear. All he would have had to do was kidnap the truck driver, make him drive to the parking lot, and then dump him in the Inland Empire after he incinerated the truck. All loose ends would have been clean and tied, and all the money would have been his.

  “You serious?” Ray asked, confused. “We're going to get the gear out of it first, right?”

  “No, I told you,” Daryl said, pouring gas on the tires. “Strict instructions.”

  “Come on, there must be a shitload of gear in there!” Ray pleaded. “Why else would they want us to steal it? Let’s have a fucking squizz at what’s inside at least!”

  Daryl stopped what he was doing and looked Ray dead in the eye.

  “Ray, you’ve done a great job, bro, and I got your money right here,” Daryl said as he patted his pants. “If you want your cash and want to get the fuck out of here, it’s no sweat off my nuts. Besides, didn’t your momma tell you, curiosity killed the cat?”

  “Alright mate,” Ray said with a slight nod. “You’re the boss.”

  “You're fucking right, I am,” Daryl said with a cheeky smile. “You play your cards right, Ray, and there will be more work down the line, trust me.”

  “Trust you, eh?” Ray said with his arms folded. “I don’t fucking know you, mate.”

  Daryl cringed. He could sense Ray had just caught him in a lie. He could now see Ray was more than a pro; he was a lifer. This kind of shit was all he knew. Most thieves had an end goal they were working towards, be it a pile of money or an island in the pacific. Even Daryl had big dreams of leaving L.A. and starting a business, but Ray—Daryl imagined there was no one final job for Ray. Even if he was a millionaire he’d still be hustling and doing his best to rip someone off.

  Daryl reached into his pocket for his light. He needed to get this bonfire started, get Ray out of his life and get the fuck out of L.A.

  “Goddamnit,” Daryl muttered as he realized he had left the lighter in the van. “Hey Ray—”

  Daryl never saw it coming. The crowbar came down on his head with great speed and furious anger, and, before he knew it, he was on the ground losing consciousness as Ray’s mint condition New Balance sneakers filled his fading vision. His last thoughts before everything cut to black was that he wasn’t cut out for this. Thieves like Ray were predictable, and he should have seen it coming a mile away, but he had let his guard slip and now he was, for all intents and purposes, dead.

  CHAPTER 33: BRIGHT LIGHTS, DEAD CITY

  As Ray looked down at Daryl lying motionless by the side of the truck, he smiled at how simple it was to betray him. Even if Daryl had been on board to look inside and see what they were about to light on fire, there was no way they were going to split the loot.

  What kind of thief doesn’t look at the cargo? Ray thought. There could be anything in there, a fucking nuclear bomb for Christ’s sake, and he wants to light it on fire.

  “Fucking Muppet,” Ray snickered.

  Ray patted Daryl down, looking for his payment, and it was right where Daryl had showed him it was. He pulled the envelope from one of the large pockets in Daryl’s cargo pants and slipped it into his jacket pocket.

  “Aww, thanks mate!” Ray said with a laugh. “You shouldn’t have!”

  He kept looking through Daryl’s array of pockets for anything of value. All he found was Daryl’s crappy cell phone. He thought about taking it as well but it was clearly over ten years old and would probably give him cancer. Having looted Daryl for all he was worth, Ray didn’t hold back in giving him one last fuck you, laying his boot into Daryl’s stomach.

  “I’m the fucking, boss!” Ray hissed before spitting on Daryl. “You’ll fucking remember that. If you wake up, that is.”

  Without further ado, Ray moved to the back of the truck. The large doors unlatched, and a big grin overtook his face. He pulled on the doors, but they di
dn’t open. He pulled again, and this time they moved an inch as a thin fog seeped from the cracks. A muffled scrape came from within the cargo hold as the truck rocked on its suspension.

  “Who's there?” Ray said as he looked around the dark parking lot. “Show yourself!”

  The truck moved again, this time with more vigor, and Ray stood back, watching it sway until it stopped. He banged twice on the door, and the truck began moving violently. There was no doubt someone was in there.

  “Who the fuck is in there!?” Ray screamed. “Come out, cunt, before I come in there after ya!”

  There was no answer but the scraping at the door grew louder. Greed overtook Ray’s mind. Whoever was in there was clearly guarding something of real value, something that Ray deserved to have. He jammed the crow bar he had just knocked Daryl out with into the door and tried to pry it open, but it was stuck tight.

  “Fuck this,” Ray said under his breath.

  He discarded the crowbar onto the ground and briskly walked to the cab of the truck. He reached in and grabbed his trusty shotgun, pumping it as he landed back on the ground.

  “I haven't got time for games,” Ray yelled as he smashed the butt of the shotgun on the side of the truck. “You best be ready to draw some blood!”

  The truck started rocking again, and as he arrived at the back of the truck he took a deep breath. He wasn’t sure if he should poke the bear, but seeing as he was the one with the shotgun he assumed he had control of the situation. Ray grabbed the bar that the latches were connected to and gave the door a mighty pull. This time the door pulled open, and a few pieces of ice fell at his feet. There was no movement except for a cloud of cold mist that poured from the open truck. Nonetheless, Ray took a step back and aimed his shotgun into the fog. He could see there was more than one person in the truck. He could see their silhouettes through the fog, but they weren’t moving. It was like a truckload of mannequins standing side by side. The fog was ice cold as it enveloped Ray on its way out of the truck. He was now realizing the cargo hold was refrigerated, and he wondered if he was onto a gold mine of medical supplies.

  “Alright you cunts, don’t you fucking move!” Ray screamed as he aimed the gun into the mist.

  As if scared by the presence of Ray, the mist quickly dispersed and revealed that they weren’t mannequins like Ray thought. There were over one hundred people packed into the truck like sardines. Each of them wore a jumpsuit with the Greytech logo on the left side of their chest.

  “What the fuck!?” Ray said in disbelief.

  Ray was now having second thoughts about this whole thing. The people in the truck looked dead, even though he could see them jostling each other to get free. Because they were packed so tightly into the hold, each of them was acting as the others’ restraint.

  Suddenly, as Ray was about to take his money and call it a day, the first row of people fell forward out into the parking lot, creating an avalanche of bodies at his feet. He didn’t wait to ask any more questions, Ray started firing his shotgun into the crowd, but more and more flowed out of the truck. Within seconds the people that had fallen off the truck first, were being used as a human staircase by the others filing out into the parking lot.

  “Fuck!” Ray squealed. “Get off me, you cunts!”

  The shotgun was useless. All he could do was lie back and hope his end came quickly. He could feel them trying to bite through his clothes and at his neck but more and more kept jumping on him, creating a vicious dog pile that stopped the Ray buffet. The pain wasn’t coming from the bites, it was coming from the sheer weight of the fifty or so of the truck’s inhabitants piling onto him.

  “Hey!” a disembodied voice yelled.

  Ray felt the pile of bodies on top of him shift, but it was too late for him. There were no witty barbs or angry goodbyes. Ray died quickly, crushed by the weight of bodies that had swarmed out of the truck and into the parking lot.

  CHAPTER 34: FLASHBACK: ALL YOUR BASE ARE BELONG TO US

  TWO YEARS EARLIER

  Joy stood against the wall of the hanger looking at the sunlight that was pouring in.

  “Okay, Joy, there’s no room for pussies in this world full of dicks,” she whispered to herself.

  Her father used to say the same thing to her all the time, and, even though he had been dead fifteen years, she still wasn’t sure if he had been preparing her for a future in a male dominated world or if he was just a bad dad. Joy was beautiful, but not your everyday beautiful. She was “stop what you’re doing and reassess your life so you can work out how the fuck you’re going to get this goddess into your bed” beautiful. Using everything she didn’t have as motivation, Joy made her way through high school and into a good but not too prestigious university on a full scholarship. From there she walked straight into a low-level public relations job at Greytech, where she rose through the ranks in a relatively short time. Her ingrained self-reliance had served her well, but now she stood on the precipice. Not merely along for the ride, Joy was helping to drive the car that was dangerously out of control.

  Joy raised her chin and strode forward towards the three SUVs as they pulled up in a line in front of her. Max stepped out of the backseat with a spring in his step. He wore his usual bright red polo shirt and gray dress pants with shiny, black, alligator-skin wingtips. He looked like he was about to have a round of golf, not a potential billion-dollar presentation. Joy smiled at him, hiding the nervousness that was embedded in every cell of her body.

  “Max! It’s good to see you!” Joy beamed as she extended her hand towards him. “I hope the trip wasn’t too arduous.”

  “Nothing a stiff drink won’t fix,” Max whispered conspiratorially as he took Joy’s hand and brought her in close.

  Joy could smell his aftershave. He had worn it as long as she had known him. The scent was overly sweet but not unpleasant and had the uncanny effect of bringing back memories that she always felt vulnerable reliving.

  “Are you ready?” Max asked.

  “You know I am,” she replied. “But I still think we should have postponed this meeting.”

  “Yes, Joy,” Max said. “I read your little memo.”

  Max ushered Joy towards the three men in formal military dress who had assembled in a neat and precise line outside the middle SUV. They were all five-star generals, and the gathering of such ranks in one place without military escort was unheard of. But this was Max Michaelson. He expected people in power to cower to him.

  “Gentlemen!” Joy announced as she stood before them. “Welcome to Greytech!”

  “General Ryan, General Adams and General Gordon,” Max said as he placed his hand on Joy’s lower back. “I’d like to introduce you to Joy Tannen. She’ll be leading the presentation today.”

  She ignored his inappropriate touch and smiled gracefully as the generals shook her hand in turn. Generals Ryan and Andrews looked like they were cut from the same machine. Both were your typical run of the mill, military lifers. They were around sixty years old and knew nothing else. General Gordon on the other hand was younger. He was in his early fifties but could pass for forty-five, and, unlike Ryan and Andrews who had gained their commands through nepotism, Gordon had climbed the ranks through guile, moxie and valor shown on the battlefield. It was no secret, General Gordon had been the reason this meeting had happened. Max and Gordon were thick as thieves on many deals, and Joy surmised money had a lot to do with how easy it had been to get the three high ranking officials together at a private company’s secret laboratory. Offshore accounts and luxury homes held by shell companies had become synonymous with Gordon since he started working with Greytech, and Joy was sure Ryan and Andrews were looking for little retirement nest eggs of their own.

  “Well, gentleman,” Joy said as she began to walk towards the elevator. “Let’s get to the exciting reason why we brought you here.”

  The presentation room was comfortable, with three rows of raised seating looking down on a large screen with the Greytech logo on it. T
he generals sat in the front row with Max a couple seats over. Joy stood confidently in front of them, her shoulders pulled back emphasizing her confidence and her… well… breasts.

  “Without further ado, I would like to present to you: Project Phoenix,” she said as she raised her arm and pressed a button on the remote control in her hand.

  The lights dimmed and a lone spotlight illuminated Joy. A logo of a phoenix emerging from large flames replaced the Greytech logo on the screen.

  “For the past three years we have brought Project Phoenix from an unconventional idea to an unprecedented reality. With the widespread availability of the internet and social media, governments are now fighting wars on two fronts: in the trenches and in the minds of the people. The Arab Spring brought freedom, but with that freedom came an instability that toppled regimes and created new ones. We must concede, in today’s climate, wars are not being fought on the battlefield. They are being won and lost in the hearts and minds of the population,” Joy said emphatically, pausing to gauge the temperature of the room.

  The generals sat like marble renditions of themselves, unfazed and offering nothing in return. Out the corner of her eye, Joy could see the impatience on Max’s face.

  “Gentlemen, we at Greytech have a question for you,” Joy continued with vigor. “Why fight a war, when you can get someone else to fight it for you?”

  General Adams moved in his seat. It wasn’t a big move, but for the first time Joy saw a spark of interest.

  “Project Phoenix is not about destruction. It’s about rebirth. The rebirth of a nation under our control,” she said with gusto. “We’d like you to sit back and enjoy a short video presentation.”

  “Actually, Joy, if I could just interrupt,” Max said, getting up from his seat.

  Joy froze. It was unlike Max to interrupt a presentation. He liked to go off script, but taking over during her presentation had never happened before. She reluctantly stepped out of the spotlight and towards Max.