Face Behind the Mask

by Leo King

  “I’ll radio Command,” Tania said between sobs, the pain in her heart greater than any other. Then she heard Dr. Kindley whimpering.

  “Kill me… ,” Dr. Kindley sniveled, shivering. “Kill me, please…”

  Standing up and supporting herself on her rifle, Tania glared at him. The freezing pain in her heart started to heat up into a fire. For a few minutes, she watched him writhing in agony, imaging the unforgiving sufferings she would love to inflict upon him.

  But in the end, she said the only thing she felt was right. “I’m not killing you. No, I think you should live a long, healthy life to live with your defeat.”

  He moaned harder. “No! Kill me! I don’t want to live like this. So much pain. So much shame. Please kill me!”

  “Shut up! My sister, my beloved sister, was a tortured soul who only found peace in death. But because of you, she won’t even have that peace, because she’s gone forever! ” Spittle flew from her lips. Just seeing him made her want to put a bullet in his head and be done with it.

  “So you don’t deserve an end to your pain. You don’t deserve the mercy of death.”

  As he cried in anguish, flailing like an infant, she fell to her knees. Then she tapped her headset. “Dixie, Patty, someone? This is Tania. We’ve got Kindley. Please come get us.”

  “Tania?” Dixie replied. “Thank God! We can home in on your signal, but what’s going on? Were there any injuries?”

  “Two injuries,” Tania said, tears rolling down her face. “One fatality.”

  Then she threw the headset to the ground. With a deep breath, she leaned back and cried Violet’s name into the night.

  Chapter 51

  Being a Shield

  Date: Sunday, June 15, 1997

  Time: 10:53 p.m.

  Location: Caroline Saucier’s yacht

  Somewhere in the Gulf of Mexico

  Aucoin and Victor kept their guns on Caroline. The standoff had only lasted a few minutes, but it had felt like hours. As Veronica struggled within the murderous device, Caroline swished her finger above a certain button on the console. “So, Detective, are you going to kill me?”

  “Don’t tempt me,” Aucoin said with a snarl, his finger resting on the trigger.

  “Do you think you can shoot me before I kill this woman?” She laid her finger gingerly on the button. At the same time, her foot slid over a discolored tile on the floor. “And what about this tile here? Could it be another trap? What could it do, I wonder?”

  “Just gimme the word,” Victor said, his red eye glowing and his hands steady.

  Aucoin didn’t answer. He looked from Caroline to the button on the console and then to the discolored tile. He wasn’t sure what was what here. This bitch is psyching me out. Damn her!

  Closing his eyes, he inhaled deeply and then exhaled. I’ve seen Dixie do this a thousand times. I just need to get into her head, and when she lets down her guard, I’ll nail her.

  Opening his eyes, he asked, “So if we put down our guns, you’ll let Veronica go?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then I only have one question.”

  “Oh?” She tilted her head to the side.

  “What’s the deal with Sam’s children? Why did you have them all these years?”

  She groaned. “It gave me status in the Knight Priory, which was barely worth the effort it took caring for the little brats. Alice is so logical, she’s probably a sociopath, and Eugene is so sensitive to spirits, he’ll never be normal. They’ll likely both be as crazy as their parents.”

  “Hmph,” Aucoin said. “Spoken like someone who has zero capacity to be a mother.”

  Grinning, she just tapped the button on the console lazily. “Some of us just don’t have the instinct. Now, Detective, what’ll it be?”

  Aucoin nodded, noting that the button could press in just a little without setting off the device. He was pretty sure he knew how to stop her. “All right. We’ll do things your way.”

  “The hell we will,” Victor said.

  Carefully, Aucoin said, “Victor, this is my call. We can always pull back and take a hand count later. For now, trust me.”

  As he emphasized “pull back” and “take a hand,” he hoped Victor would get the meaning. He knew Dixie would.

  Victor just snorted and said, “Smartass.” He then put his revolver on the ground and kicked it over.

  When Aucoin saw the wire still attached to the gun, he exhaled in relief. He gets it! He put his own gun down and kicked it over.

  “Good, gentlemen,” Caroline said with a triumphant sneer. “Now, if you two would join your friend over there, I can lock you away until—”

  As quick as a rattlesnake, Victor yanked the wire and pulled the revolver back into his hand. His dead eye lit up as he aimed at Caroline’s hand above the console. Less than a second later, he pulled the trigger, Perdition firing so loudly the mirrors shook, flame shooting from the barrel.

  Aucoin momentarily lost focus, his eyeballs rattling. When his vision returned, Caroline’s hand was gone halfway up the forearm. Blood was pouring out.

  “Bye, bitch,” Victor said, cocking Perdition’s hammer back for another shot.

  With a shocked expression, she stepped on the discolored tile. Aucoin heard a click and then a whoosh. Then he felt a hard blow to the side. Before he realized it, he was sliding along the floor, landing near his gun. The sound of meat tearing resonated in his ears, along with Veronica gasping.

  “Damn it, woman!” Aucoin shouted. “What did you hit me with?” As he gathered his bearings, he realized it wasn’t Caroline who had hit him—it was Victor. He had pushed Aucoin to the ground, and when he glanced back to where they had been standing, he saw why. Victor was impaled on several spikes that had shot through the flooring. There were more spikes where Aucoin had just been. Blood was trickling down onto the once sparkling floor.

  Victor said, “Got your back.” He bowed his head and died, still standing.

  Aucoin glared at Caroline, who was gripping her bloody stump. When she met his gaze, she reached over to hit the console and trigger the device. In the blink of an eye, he had grabbed his gun and lined up a shot between her eyes. She glanced back, saw that he was pointing his gun at her, and froze. They locked eyes, his finger on the trigger and hers on the button.

  “Please don’t,” she pleaded.

  “Fuck you,” he replied, and he pulled the trigger. Her head flew back with a hole in the middle of her forehead. Her fingers started pushing down on the button just a hair and then fell to the side. Then she slumped back in the chair, dead.

  For a few moments, he just lay there, taking in what had happened. Then he got up, wiped off his jacket, and holstered his gun. “Are you OK, Veronica?”

  But Veronica had passed out.

  It took Aucoin a while to get Veronica out of the device. With all the rotating blades, corkscrews, and shredders, it looked like it would have made a bloody mess of her if it had been turned on.

  The whole thing disgusted him. What kind of sick mind would create these death machines?

  Once she was out and resting on the floor, he scanned the room. At the opposite end from the entrance was another discolored tile. “Veronica, do not move. I think I found a way out, but it could be another trap.”

  “OK,” she said, watching him anxiously as he tapped it. There was a clicking sound, and then the mirror before him rose, revealing a small but comfortable bedroom. Inside were a full-sized bed and a garden bathtub, as well as a small vanity covered with images of a lovely young woman, Allison Surrette. Also on the vanity was a thick, black book—the Russell grimoire—and an open letter:

  Miss Saucier,

  I don’t know how you learned about the grimoire. I suspect it may have been my fault, that I leaked too much to you during our conversations. Or it may have been that you learned of it from Jonathan himself before his passing.

  The fact is you know about it, and you chose to send Dr. Kindley to take it from me. Very sn
eaky, having him call me out about it during a Knight Priory gathering. Of course I had to hand it over.

  But you see, I know things about that book which you do not. I know its secrets. It’s more than just lore of the Knight Priory. The grimoire can give you power beyond your wildest dreams.

  All I ask is that you lend me use of it. There is a certain ritual I am looking for, one that is vital to my plans. Give me access to the book whenever that fool Kindley is done, and I promise you true control over the Knight Priory.

  Signed,

  The Oracle

  Aucoin harrumphed. “So the Oracle had the grimoire first, and he was willing to show Caroline how to use it in order to further his goals. What are his goals? What is his end game?”

  “Well, it’s likely from his tutelage that she figured out how to possess Connick with Papa Ghede.” It was Veronica, limping up behind him.

  “Very likely,” he said. “This guy is dangerous. Whatever this ritual is, it must be huge.”

  She nodded. “Are we done here?”

  He pocketed the letter and picked up the grimoire. “Yes. Let’s go to the bridge, get this tub docked with Deepwater, and start loading people up.”

  Luckily, the same box that would have eviscerated Veronica also had the release button for the Vault. A short while later, they were pulling into the dock underneath the oil rig. The police were loading up two other yachts with Knight Priory members who had surrendered.

  “So that’s what happened, Dixie,” Aucoin said into the headset, having recounted the entire story to her. “Victor had my back until the very end.”

  “My God,” she said. “Kyle, I’m so sorry.”

  “Yeah, well, I’ll mourn later. What else is happening?”

  “Tania just captured Dr. Kindley. Meyer and Hakim just loaded up Connick to be flown to a hospital. Noelle didn’t make it.”

  The news of Noelle’s death was a surprise. “She was always so careful. Is Chase OK?”

  “He goes between fits of rage and tears. But the one I’m really worried about is Tania.”

  “What’s wrong with her?”

  “I’m not completely sure. I think… I think something happened to Violet. She won’t talk to anyone and just hugs her mask.”

  “And what about the children? Or Alexia? Or Sam?”

  “Alexia was sent to find the children, and Sam went after the Oracle. We lost contact with them both over thirty minutes ago. Patty is pulling her hair out, and Dr. Lazarus wants to send everyone back in to search for them.”

  Grinding his teeth, he weighed his options. His body ached all over, and he felt fatigue setting in. But then he thought of Alexia and Sam. Unlike everyone else, they were alone. Sam might be able to handle herself, but Alexia was just a kid.

  He sighed. It was a hell of a time for his paternal instincts to kick in.

  “Dixie, I’m going after Alexia. Switch me over to Patty’s frequency.”

  “Are you sure?”

  He changed ammo clips. “Yes. That girl may be amazing, but she’s still a girl. I’m not leaving her alone.”

  “All right, Kyle. Godspeed. And please, be careful.”

  As he left, Veronica, who was being examined by a medic, called out, “Wait! Kyle, you’re going back in there? What are you doing?”

  He cocked his gun as he ran inside. “Being a shield!”

  Chapter 52

  I’ll Be There

  Date: Sunday, June 15, 1997

  Time: 10:59 p.m.

  Location: Deepwater Olympus

  Somewhere in the Gulf of Mexico

  “You know you’re asleep, right?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then why don’t you wake up?”

  “Because I want to talk to you. I miss you.”

  “That’s sweet of you, Alexia. But right now, you have to wake up.”

  “But Michael, why? I’ve waited so long to see you again.”

  “Because if you don’t wake up, those two children will die.”

  With a gasp, Alexia awoke and took in her surroundings. First, she saw that she was still in the manager’s apartment. Next, she saw a ghostly hulk with a tiny, shrunken head and four massive arms, each holding a sword. Then, she saw three of what looked like African tribal warriors, down to the spears and shields, but with heavily pinched faces. Finally, she saw both children lying unconscious on the bed across the room from her. She recognized the large spirit as an orisha and the warriors as ogouns. They were similar to loa, but under the African pantheon.

  Who did this?

  Then she remembered. It had been the Oracle.

  With that memory came the shocking realization that she couldn’t move of her own accord. Horrified, she watched as her own body started walking toward the children. The four spirits started chanting.

  What’s going on?

  As she slowly approached the bed, she drew out her rapiers, pointing one at each child. No. Come on, stop it!

  It was like she was watching someone else control her body. The sensation of helplessness was just as bad as when she had been overcome by Lord Dooley.

  OK, stop panicking and think. Think!

  Forcing the fear down, she realized that she must be possessed. Somehow, the Oracle had put something in her. Recalling her encounter with Lord Dooley, she repeated the same steps as last time.

  Our Father who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name. As she prayed, she focused her will on pushing forward and tearing through the possessing spirit. She was sure it would be another arduous and difficult struggle.

  However, a second later, she heard the spirit controlling her screech in agony and vanish. Her consciousness popped back into control so fast, she ended up stumbling, and she fell against the bed.

  Compared to Lord Dooley, that had been extremely easy.

  She glanced over at the orisha and ogoun. They seemed surprised. Grinning cockily, she pushed her will toward them, shifting her mindset from prey to predator. Her rapiers started glinting as if out in the sun.

  “Repent now.”

  Rushing forward, she swung her rapiers at the first unsuspecting ogoun before it had a chance to raise its shield. As she focused her will through her attacks, her rapiers started glowing with a soft but steady white light, the blades shimmering with hundreds of sparkles. She slashed through it twice and then stabbed it in the chest. It yelped, light pouring from its wounds, and then vanished in a puff of misty, fog-like vapor.

  The other two ogoun seemed jarred out of their surprise, raising their shields and stabbing at her with their spears. She bent back, the tip of one spear nearly cutting her chest, the other clipping her hair. Circling one rapier around in a double envelopment, she trapped the spear cutting at her hair and pushed. Then she knocked the spear near her breasts back.

  “Leave my boobs alone!”

  As she straightened up, the orisha, which had finally recovered from the shock, started digging its heels into the ground, preparing to charge as if it were a bull.

  Keeping the orisha in her sights, Alexia slid in toward the ogoun who had stabbed at her chest. She trapped its spear between her blades and twisted, yanking it from its hands. It stumbled in shock.

  She grinned. “Bye, now!”

  Flipping in a back handspring, she kicked it in the face. Then, slicing up in the air, she slashed it several times and finally stabbed upward, impaling it on both of her rapiers. It shrieked, light poured out, and it vanished into misty vapor.

  Suddenly, she felt a sharp pain at her side. The remaining ogoun had just missed sinking its spear into her ribs. “Dang it,” she said. “You’re next!”

  But then she heard heavy footfalls. The orisha was charging right at her, its arms out and its swords swirling around. Throwing herself to the side, she twisted through the air as it flew past her, running into the dining-room table and cracking it in two, crushing several chairs. As she landed, the remaining ogoun jumped in, stabbing at her head.

  She couldn’t make it in time.
She tried to parry, knowing she’d likely still get badly injured. But at the last moment, someone kicked the spear away.

  It was Michael’s ghost. He grinned at her and flicked his thumb over his nose. “Need some help, Sis?”

  Alexia’s mouth gaped as he rushed forward and attacked the ogoun. It stabbed at him, but he grabbed the spear, kicked it several times, and then broke the weapon in half. Then he said, “Alexia, finish it!”

  That pulled her out of her shock. She rushed forward as Michael kicked it toward her. With her opponent completely open, she sliced in an x-shaped pattern. “Take that!”

  The ogoun wailed and died, cut in half by her attacks.

  Only the orisha was left, and it was preparing to charge again.

  Michael stood next to her. “Remember when you fought Lord Dooley and you made a cross pattern with your swords?”

  “Um, yes,” she said, adopting a defensive posture. “Yes, I do.”

  “Whenever you have an opening on a strong enemy, do that,” he said. “Project your will and faith into the pattern.” He rushed toward the orisha, which was charging. The two met in the center of the room, its weapons coming down with such force that when Michael blocked the attacks, the floor around him cracked. He engaged the spirit in a furious frenzy, trading blow after blow.

  The orisha seemed to get more agitated with every passing second. Finally, it chopped down all four weapons at the same time. While he blocked the attack, the force brought him to his knees.

  Alexia gasped. “Michael!”

  But then she saw it. With the orisha committing to such an attack, it was vulnerable. Bringing her blades together to form a cross, she focused her will and said in a commanding voice, “In the name of the Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit, begone!”

  It screeched in a high-pitched wail and started pushing back, forgetting Michael. But as she pushed harder upon it, visualizing that she was making it disappear, its form started to waver.