by Bryan Cohen
Chapter 3
Stucky felt like he was out of place. He wasn't the kind of person who held a gun to people, in fact, he was the member of the gang who was least trusted with a gun after he nearly shot off his brother Tank's foot during a dry run. Nigel said they all needed a weapon for the diner job. Now that Nigel was all supernatural and stuff, Stucky supposed that meant he was the boss. Nigel's underling watched the cooks and wait staff in the kitchen.
"None of these people is gonna be a hero," he said. "They're just trying to live honest."
That was the part troubling Stucky, because the cooks didn't deserve what was coming to them. Nigel thought everyone wanted to be just like him, but Nigel wasn't even Nigel anymore. Stucky watched his boss through the window above the serving counter, and he was both graceful and frightening. It looked like Nigel had everything under control and was prepared for the impending mass murder.
The two of them met nearly a decade ago in juvenile detention. Stucky connected Nigel with his brother Tank, and the three of them were thick as thieves, in addition to being actual thieves. They were involved with one crew or another in at least a dozen jobs. They never left a man behind, and since Stucky was the slowest mentally and physically, Nigel often had to swoop in and protect him. That's why Stucky pulled out all the stops when Nigel came to him and his brother with two deadly gunshot wounds.
"Really?" Nigel asked one of the patrons. "A tablet and two phones?"
"One's for work."
"It's Sunday brunch. Honestly."
Nigel's tone with the workaholic patron was almost jokey. Stucky had the feeling these hostages had no idea what was coming next. He wasn't sure he was prepared for it, either.
Stucky got a good look at the restaurant the previous weekend when he and the gang were casing the building. Page's seemed like a nice place. There were old books on the wall, and he imagined between the register, the phones and the antique books, they'd clear a lot of money on the job. But Nigel wanted nothing to do with the money.
"You sure we don't want to just rob the joint?" Stucky asked.
Nigel was enjoying a patty melt at the time and let several seconds pass before he finished chewing. He took a long sip of lemonade and swallowed.
"Our race is dying, Stucky. We're being starved and our families are being separated. A few extra dollars from another world isn't going to help them, now is it?"
Stucky pondered this. Nigel said "our race," but Stucky had never even been to this other world. He would have believed Nigel in a heartbeat but he had to question the words coming out of this stranger in Nigel's body.
"Isn't there a way we can do that without killing people?"
Nigel and Tank laughed at that, and the others joined in as a waitress came to take their dessert orders. After she left the table, Nigel continued.
"Besides, Stucky, we're helping these people. Take our waitress, for instance."
Stucky studied the waitress. She was skinner than he liked his women, but he appreciated her counter-culture clothing and tattoos.
"She had dreams and passions," Nigel said. "She looks to be in her mid-20s or so, and yet here she is: a waitress in a suburban diner. What we're doing isn't just going to help us, it's going to liberate her and everybody else to finally be the people they want to be."
Stucky had never been in a restaurant kitchen before. The room was all stainless steel and every inch of it smelled like oil and sugar. He turned off all the burners as Nigel had instructed him to do and then lifted a sausage patty off one of the skillets and took a bite. He burned his tongue and almost let out a curse before realizing he was in view of half a dozen hostages. Nigel told him never to show weakness.
"That's good sausage," he said, blowing on the rest of the patty to cool it down.
He poured himself some water and chugged it, before topping it off with a spray from a can of whipped cream and a short squirt of chocolate sauce. He wondered if the cooks would make him a proper meal after the ritual was complete.
Stucky had been involved in multiple robberies with his brother and Nigel. They'd ripped off dry cleaners, hardware stores and coffee shops together. The biggest payday they'd ever received was robbing a bookie at gunpoint after a trip to the bank. They'd tailed him for weeks to find out his daily routine and trapped his car in an alley a few blocks from his house.
"You shouldn't take a shortcut through such a dangerous place," Nigel said. "You never know who you'll run into."
The guy pissed himself when Nigel drew his gun. After they'd pulled it off, the three of them ate like kings in the next state over. Stucky felt bad for that guy, but he was happy to be part of the group. Now that his brother and Nigel were on a "higher plane," he wondered if they'd ever get back to those fun times again.
"It wouldn't have been any better if Nigel died. Right?" he asked himself.
He wasn't so sure if that was true.
Stucky was thinking about how he'd never killed anyone in his life, when his watch was tested. A girl in her early 20s wearing a Page's apron snuck into the back room. She had a rainbow-colored butterfly tattoo on her right wrist. Stucky recognized her as their waitress, Sandra, and he knew exactly where she was going. There was a landline phone in the back for the kitchen to take pickup orders. Nigel had pointed it out to Stucky when they snuck back there claiming to look for the bathroom. The girl was moving slowly in an effort to be as quiet as possible. If Stucky hadn't been back there, she probably would have been successful. He checked to see if Nigel was looking toward the kitchen. He wasn't.
Stucky took a deep breath and pointed his gun in her direction.
"Hey," he whispered. "What are you doing?"
The girl stopped cold and looked at Stucky's gun.
"Why are you whispering?" she asked.
Stucky could feel his gun hand getting sweaty.
"I'm trying to keep you from getting killed. Why don't you just sneak out the back?"
The girl was tempted. She glanced toward the back door, but instead, she continued to move toward the phone.
"I'm giving you an out," he said.
"I'm not leaving without everyone."
Stucky felt Nigel's glance from across the restaurant. He looked up and met it.
"Everything OK back there, old friend?"
Stucky knew he was dooming the waitress if he pointed her out, but he didn't want to get himself in trouble either. He used his eyes to motion the girl to the door one last time. But as she reached for the phone instead, he knew he had no choice.
"Nigel! Someone's trying to call the cops."
Stucky ripped the cord out of the phone and pushed Sandra to the ground.
Nigel walked into the back. He looked pleased, more so with himself than with Stucky. Nigel gave his partner a nod as he reached to grab the waitress. Sandra backed away from him and found a large chef's knife on the countertop.
"Nigel, wait!" Stucky said.
When Nigel reached for her, Sandra sliced at his arm, leaving a long, red gash. Blood started to trickle out of Nigel's wound.
"I'm not going down easy," she said. "Shoot me if you have to."
The blood oozing out of Nigel's arm began to retract itself into the wound. It only took a few seconds for skin to form where the laceration had been, and in seconds, he was completely healed. Stucky had seen Nigel heal like that once before, but he still wouldn't consider himself used to it.
"What are you?" Sandra asked.
"A visitor," he said. "And soon, you will be, too."
Sandra stabbed at Nigel again, but this time he slapped the knife out of her hands. Nigel gave Stucky a nod before he placed his arms around Sandra's waist and hoisted her up over his shoulder.
"Stop it! Put me down!"
Nigel walked her out of the kitchen, and Stucky watched as the cooks cringed.
"Let me go!" she said.
"I never got to tell you last week," Nigel said. "But that pie was delicious. Don't worry, you'll be set free soon."
> Stucky watched Nigel pass off the girl to Yarrick, a muscle-bound Russian who'd joined the group a few months ago. Nigel had gained some kind of super strength when he'd been possessed, and Stucky's brother had experienced the same. He didn't want to think about what Yarrick would be like with twice the power. Nigel said he needed a few humans around to perform the ritual and add to their ranks. Stucky hoped most of that responsibility would fall to Yarrick.
The Russian held the girl tightly and ripped one of her sleeves clean off her shirt. Stucky expected Sandra to cry, but she looked more angry than upset. Perhaps she'd make a good addition to the group, whether she was human or something else. Yarrick held her tight while the job's fifth man, Carter, the technician, began to speak a few words in a different language. Nigel had taught all of them the chant, but Carter had the most ease with it. After Carter repeated the same sentence three times, a symbol appeared on the girl's arm.
Now the waitress matched everyone else in the gang. After Nigel and Tank took the plunge, the rest of them got the same symbol on their arms just in case they were lost in action. Nigel said the symbol was part of an ancient language, but it just looked like a bunch of shapes and squiggly lines to Stucky. When Nigel and Tank were killed, their symbols lit up like blue Christmas trees before they were taken over by beings from the other world. Tank said the symbol burned like a cigarette on his skin. That was one of the last things he'd said before he wasn't really Stucky's brother anymore.
"What are you doing to me?" Sandra asked.
"You wanted to be a hero," Nigel said. "You wanted to be a part of the story. I'm just granting you your wish. You were a waitress before. I'm going to make you a legend."
The girl tried to wrestle free of Yarrick.
"She's pretty strong. She'll make good addition," Yarrick said.
"I've always said we should have a woman in the group," Carter said.
Yarrick laughed.
"For your benefit."
Carter finished the incantation and backed away. The girl's arm began to shake.
"What the hell, you're hurting me! What did you–"
Nigel quieted her with a look.
"It's your destiny, love. Yarrick, would you like the hon–"
"Get your hands off her," a voice cracked from across the room.
Stucky could barely see who made the remark. He moved to the far end of the kitchen to get a better look at him. It was a teenage boy. He was a lanky thing with a voice that didn't strike much fear into anybody. The kid walked away from his booth and moved closer to Yarrick and the waitress. He piped up again.
"Let her go."
This time the boy was more confident. He almost made Stucky nervous.
"Maybe you should wait till your voice drops before you go saving the day, kid," Tank said from the front door.
The gang laughed. Even Stucky joined in, despite the tension of the moment. The insults didn't faze the kid, as he continued to move toward Yarrick and the waitress.
"You're killing her," Yarrick said, tightening his grasp around the girl. "Why don't you sit down and wait your turn?"
"No."
Before Nigel could stop him, Yarrick tossed the waitress to Carter and charged at the boy. He grunted when he reached full speed. Time seemed to stand still when the boy held out his hands and Yarrick flew backward. It was as if he had been pushed by a hurricane gust of wind. Yarrick looked like a wire was pulling him through the air as he whipped backward. The Russian crashed back-first into a jukebox, shattering the glass as he went. Stucky nearly dropped his gun.
"What the hell are you?" Carter asked.
"I'm Ted," the boy replied.
