by Bryan Cohen
Chapter 8
After Nigel threw the kid through the window, Stucky assumed the jig was up. He figured they'd run and try this again in another diner in another town. Much to his surprise, Nigel was able to calm everybody's nerves with relative ease.
"We all have options, ladies and gentlemen," he said. "One of them ends with you dead on the pavement. Wouldn't you much rather choose door number two?"
The patrons who screamed and shrieked during the confrontation quieted down. Stucky could tell that they'd resigned themselves to death either way. The mood in the room was black.
"Tank, please dust off Yarrick so he can help me with the ritual."
In all the hubbub, Stucky had nearly forgotten about his comrade. Yarrick was bloody and bruised, but standing. Tank used a laminated menu at the hostess station to brush the glass from Yarrick's back.
"I'm right as rain, boss," the Russian said.
"Good. It’s your time to shine."
As Yarrick approached, Stucky spied Carter on the ground. He was motionless but breathing. Stucky had watched enough professional football to know a severe concussion when he saw one. He thanked the stars above that he wasn't the one dumb enough to go chasing after the kid with superpowers.
"Stucky, go and check on our little friend outside," Nigel said.
Stucky sent a silent curse skyward and walked toward the door. As he glanced over his shoulder, he saw Yarrick remove a sheet of paper from Carter's jacket.
They're really gonna do it, Stucky thought. They're really gonna kill that girl in front of all those people.
When the faceless man performed the ritual on Nigel, it was a dire situation. Nigel had taken two bullets at close range and a hospital was out of the question with two local warrants out for his arrest. Stucky had met the man only a few days earlier. He'd gone into the alley of his favorite bar to get a smoke. When Stucky patted his pockets looking for a lighter, the man came forward from the shadows and presented his. Stucky thanked him and struck up a conversation.
"What business you in, mister?"
"I'm a healer," the man said, most of his face obscured by a hood.
Stucky couldn't place where the man was from. The gravelly tone of his voice made an accent hard to detect.
"Like at a hospital or something?" Stucky asked.
The man chuckled out of one side of his mouth.
"Hospitals wouldn't understand what I do. It's not legal medicine."
"I hear that. The law ain't what it's cracked up to be."
"I agree completely," the man said. "I'm able to do things a hospital couldn't even dream of. For a price."
"You've got to get paid, of course."
The man gave Stucky his card. There was no name or address on it, just a phone number. Later that week, when Nigel came into the hideout on the brink of death, the hooded man jumped into Stucky's mind. He got there so quickly; it was like he was around the corner waiting for something to happen. When he arrived, he pulled off his hood to reveal only half a face. The man's features looked normal enough on the right side, but the left side was withered and pale. If the man were a car, he'd only have doors on one side. He was unfinished.
"I can keep him alive," the man said.
"Please," Stucky said. "What do we owe you?"
"His life, of course."
Stucky had no idea what the man was talking about. When he took Nigel's arm and started to chant, Tank stomped over and pushed the faceless man to the ground.
"The man's dying and you're speaking gibberish," he said. "I told you, I can find us a doctor."
The man got up so nimbly, it was as if he floated to his feet.
"Your friend has minutes to live," he said. "I can cure him completely, but you need to let me do what I must."
"And what if you fail?" Yarrick asked.
"You can kill me," he said, brushing some dirt from his back. "Time is of the essence. Do we have a deal?"
Tank pulled out his gun and aimed it at the man's chest.
"You've got 60 seconds," Tank said.
"As long as you do everything I say, your friend will live."
The man began to chant again, and an image started to form on Nigel's arm. As the man repeated the foreign-sounding phrase, the symbol came completely into focus and Nigel grimaced. He tried to talk, but it sounded like he was gasping for air.
"You over there," the man said to Tank, "I need your help with this part."
Tank was motionless.
"Tank!" Stucky said. "Do what he says or Nigel's gonna die."
Tank flared his nostrils and handed the gun to Stucky.
"He tries anything, you shoot him in the head."
Stucky nodded.
Tank walked over cautiously and the man produced a dagger. The weapon was green and gold. It was the sort of thing you'd find in a museum, not in a doctor's medical bag. Stucky felt his hands shake on the gun.
"What do you want me to do?" Tank asked.
"Hold it above your friend's chest."
Tank rolled his eyes and held the dagger.
"Voodoo nonsense," he said, as he followed the faceless man's instructions.
The man guided Tank's hands until the blade pointed directly at Nigel's chest. He started to chant a new set of strange words. Stucky noticed the symbol on Nigel's arm start to glow brighter with every word the faceless man said. When he stopped, the man gripped Tank's hands gently and thrust the dagger into Nigel's heart.
Yarrick and Carter drew their guns and pointed them at the faceless man. Nigel went lifeless and Tank swung at the man who'd made him stab his own friend. The faceless man easily avoided the blow.
"You said you could save him," Tank said, drawing a knife. He began to circle the man. "Who the hell are you?"
"I'm a healer," the man said. "Just like I told your brother."
"You're a murderer," Tank said.
Stucky watched Nigel breath his final breath. Here he was trying to save Nigel, but he may have doomed him that much more quickly. He focused the weapon on the faceless man.
"I needed your hand on the blade," the man said. "He had to die from a human hand to come back."
"What do you mean, come back?" Tank asked.
Almost as if on cue, a burst of energy shot in through the window and struck Nigel's body. The light was so bright that everybody had to turn away to avoid going blind. When the energy pulse was gone, so was the faceless man. In his place was a long broadsword that had a similar look to the dagger.
"Damn," Tank said, kicking the hilt of the sword.
"At least we got light show, yes?" Yarrick said.
Nigel sat up. The blade remained in his chest, until he yanked it out and the flesh closed in around the wound. It healed completely within seconds.
Stucky looked at the new Nigel, wondering if there was something he could have done to keep his friend alive. He passed by Tank at the front of the diner and exited.
It took his eyes a second to adjust to the bright midday sun. For all the carnage going on inside, it was peaceful in the parking lot. Nigel chose Page's because it was on the underdeveloped side of town. People had to go out of their way to frequent the diner because it was the only open shop on the block. There was a bank across the street, but it had just a single car in the lot. Stucky reached out to touch the greenery as he walked around back, thinking that Nigel couldn't have tossed the kid out of a better window. It was out of view of the road and the nearest house on that side was over a block away. There was only one problem, which Stucky realized the second he turned the corner: Ted was gone.
There was a little blood mixed in with the shattered glass, but nothing to indicate that he'd been smashed on the pavement. Stucky heard a noise in the bushes. He knew that if Ted saw him first, he'd end up slammed against a wall or thrown through a window himself. His only chance was to get the drop on him. Stucky's hands felt clammy as he tiptoed toward the bushes. He tried to keep his breathing as quiet as possible, though his heart was racing.
"Shut up heart, everything's going to be alright," he whispered.
Stucky was a foot away from the noise, when he closed his eyes to settle his nerves. He opened his eyes back up and reached to grab at Ted. Only it wasn't Ted, it was an orange and yellow housecat. The feline scratched Stucky's shoulder and hissed at him, running the opposite direction.
"Damn animal. Scared me half to death."
He felt a tap on the shoulder and turned around.
"You ready for the other half?" Ted asked.
Stucky swung with all his strength. Ted avoided it, though it threw him off balance. He tripped backward and pointed his hands toward Stucky.
Stucky felt himself being pushed and lifted off of the ground. As he struggled against it, he realized he was 25 feet in the air. He'd flown out of the parking lot like a juiced baseball.
"Help!"
It was the only word he could get out as the force carried him over the road. Stucky's legs flailed as the air whipped past his ears.
"What in the hell?!"
The force that propelled him across the street died down above the bank parking lot. Gravity took over from there. Stucky turned to see the ground approaching rapidly. He let out an obscenity as he narrowly avoided the bank's elevated sign and then landed directly on the windshield of the only car in the lot. He admired the clouds in the sky as he passed out.
