Beware The Fury

by C. I. Lopez

  I guess he kept his promise if that was his wife. Prince placed the ring in his pants pocket and continued carefully extracting the woman’s contorted body with a fetus and placenta still attached. When he had her out, he also cut off her finger to look inside the wedding ring, which proved him right. The inscription carried the same date and the same word; Forever.

  He also took that ring and placed it in his pocket. Hesitant to separate the fetus from the mother, he placed the package over her body and then decided to excavate a bigger hole and bury this whole family together. It was a rare moment of sentimentality in Prince. Shaking his head to regain his methodical mindset, he knew that would be an unforgivable mistake. These bodies should never be found, especially together, notwithstanding the rarity of the occurrence.

  With the bodies disentangled and laying on the ground, Prince chose the spot to dig in the firm sand, near the river. When the grave was ready, he carried the mother and the fetus to the edge of the hole. He wanted them out of sight first. He carefully laid them together at the bottom of their tomb, making sure to enclose the woman’s severed finger.

  Next, he had to move the big cop. Prince was a strong man, but whoever said that a dead body was an empty shell, never had to carry a corpse. The deadweight of the muscular guardsman was almost more than Prince could manage. He went through the man’s clothing to carefully remove his badge and all that would identify the body. This was a member of the exclusive National Guard of the country, and Prince did not want to ease identification if the corpse were found before being wholly decomposed.

  Slowly, he dragged the body, half-way down the embankment, and sat on the sand for a moment. The physical exertion of the job was exhausting, and Prince needed a moment to rest. He smoked one of his special hand-rolled cigarettes before continuing to drag the man’s body down farther. He included the man’s severed finger when he lay the officer side by side with his wife and child.

  The tomb was covered with sand, and then a scattering of rocks topped off with wild vegetation that grew in the area. Prince leaned near the water to wash his hands and rinse the sand from his boots. Altogether, it took Prince two hours to complete the job.

  He took the two wedding rings out of his pocket and washed them, planning to take them to Yasmin.

  When Belky had called to give her brother the message to contact Chilo about cleaning, she’d told him that Yasmin had been brought back. Prince suspected the killing was connected with finding her. He knew there had been more murders, and that the man he’d buried wasn’t Federico. The dead man still had his National Guard identification with him.

  The drive out to the main highway through the now dark wooded jungle was familiar. It wasn’t the first grave he’d dug in that area. It was a location he’d discovered long ago. Prince knew that within three-quarters of an hour, he would be back at the compound. His job would be done, but he was bothered by the unusual sloppiness of the kill. He needed to find out more about the circumstances that led to such a risky endeavor.

  He sped up the black sedan because he knew no traffic police would dare stop him. At one of the towns on his way home, Prince stopped at an automatic carwash. He had the sedan cleaned inside and out, including the trunk. He knew the place, and these men didn’t ask questions. Prince carefully washed his boots again and changed his clothing, placing the dirt-covered clothes in a plastic bag and depositing it in the trash at the car wash. He paid the car wash attendant $200 for the job and drove the clean sedan to the compound, dressed in clean clothes and spit-shined-shoes that he had brought with him.

  After returning the car to the garage where the other five black Mercedes Benz sedans were kept, Prince went directly to see Chilo. He found the man highly distressed and locked inside his own tiny office. Reluctantly, the guard unlocked the door to let Prince in, knowing he would be facing a furious man.

  Not able to contain himself, Prince grabbed Chilo by the shirt and brought his face close and asked, “What the hell is going on, Chilo? A cop and a pregnant woman? That’s not what we do!”

  A very nervous Chilo told Prince, “I know, man, I think the boss has lost his mind. We’re all in deep shit. There’ll be no way to stop the National Guard from storming the compound. I want out. You have your sister to worry about and you should both escape before the soldiers arrive. It’s going to be bad.

  “I’m not going anywhere. There’s something I have to do first. Where is Mrs. Chacon, and what do you know about her state of mind?”

  “She’s been unconscious since the shooting, but you can find her in her room. Your sister has been with her constantly ministering to keep her alive. Yasmin is in grave shock, and she’s going to die at any moment from it. Either that or by the boss’s hand.” Chilo hastily continued to destroy evidence in preparation for a sudden raid by the National Guard.

  *

  It was 8:05 on the morning after the murders in the village of Paso Ancho. The National Guardsmen were filing into their headquarters in Panama City, cursing the flooded streets and sidewalks that were the perpetual environment around their office during the rainy season.

  “Damn. Is it ever going to stop? It’s been raining three days straight,” Colonel Villalobos complained. He removed the garrison cap, which he preferred to wear at work.

  The Colonel was in his summer uniform. His khaki shirt was short-sleeved with permanent military creases, a gold braid lanyard, and epaulets. The trousers were dark olive-green low-waisted, with a permanent crease and a stripe of gold braid on the outer side of the legs. He was a meticulous man regarding his uniform and those of the men who worked for him. The Colonel wore the brassards usually associated with the military police, and his distinctive unit insignia with ribbons representing medals over his left breast pocket.

  On this rainy day, the Colonel and his men wore lightweight government-issue raincoats to keep their uniforms dry and tidy. Shaking off the rain, they took turns to hang their coats on hooks arranged in the bathroom. The coats could drip-dry because the floor was fitted with ceramic shower room tiles and a drain.

  Colonel Villalobos sat at his corporate swivel chair and carefully wiped his spit-shined black shoes. He wore these every day to work instead of the usual combat boots his men wore.

  “At least the rain has been keeping the criminals off the streets. We haven’t had an incident all week.” He made his observation as the rest of the troops filed into the building to replicate the raincoat hanging drill. Towels were always kept handy this time of year at the headquarters. Colonel Villalobos ran a tight ship and expected his men to look as sharp as he did.

  By 8:15, the phone on the Colonel’s desk was ringing.

  He selected the speakerphone. “Colonel Villalobos, National Guard Headquarters.”

  “Colonel, this is Detective Mendoza, from Paso Ancho, Chiriquí Province. You may remember that your man, Captain Santos Sosa, has been acting as our advisor for the past three years.”

  “Yes, I remember. You have an open case about a missing girl and a connection to organized crime. Do you have news on the case, and if so, why didn’t Captain Sosa call me himself? It’s the protocol to use the chain of command.”

  “Sir, I don’t know how else to tell you this, except straight up; Captain Santos Sosa was shot dead late yesterday afternoon. We suspect the perpetrator to be Tomas Chacon.”

  “No,” the Colonel said, standing up from his desk. He was deeply saddened to have lost such a good man. “How did it happen?”

  Detective Mendoza gave the Colonel a summary of the events, explaining that he had a witness who’d seen it all. “The Captain’s body and that of his wife were no longer at the scene when we arrived, but the witness claims she saw Chacon’s men dumping them in the trunk of their black limousine. A screaming girl was dragged into the back of the vehicle by one of the gangsters. The third shooting victim was left behind, and the ambulance crew took him away.”

  There was a long silence as the detective waited for the Colonel
to absorb what he’d told him. He continued, “We have been combing the area for the bodies, sir, but have found none. The location of the Chacon compound is unknown to us.”

  The Colonel said, “Three shootings in cold blood, and a kidnapping, and one of the dead is an officer in the National Guard. We will have to mobilize for the fight of our lives. It’s time to confront Tomas Chacon, but first, I must call the President. The level of response requires his approval.”

  “Yes, Sir. I didn’t want to do anything else before notifying you. Your Captain Sosa produced an excellent forensics team in our town and they are now collecting evidence. Our police department is at your disposal if you need them, Sir.”

  “Thank you, Detective, that will be very helpful.”

  “Those people who were shot were well-known and long-time residents of our town. Federico Montenegro, the man left for dead in his house is a prominent and beloved member of our community and the president of the local bank. We are trying to locate the bodies of the Captain and his wife. The village is mourning and preparing for a joint funeral even without bodies.”

  “Of course, I understand, Detective. It’s a tragedy. Please, accept my condolences. As soon as I talk with the President, you should have a company of our forces at your disposal. We can find Tomas, the Snake, Chacon. He may have gone too far this time.”

  When Colonel Villalobos conferred with the President, he was hopeful he would obtain the permission he needed to storm the Chacon compound. He told the President how Chacon had not only shot innocent civilians but also killed a member of the National Guard. He explained that Chacon had kidnapped a local underage woman, and forced her into marriage and who knew what else.

  The President, however, was as reluctant as ever to disturb the status quo that had helped him to keep a relative peace in the country. He asked the Colonel for more time to come up with a solution.

  Disappointed, the Colonel went back to his headquarters to explain the situation to his men, all of whom were eager to hunt for Tomas Chacon. A platoon was already mobilized and ready to move in the direction of Chacon’s property. It had been hoped that the President would agree with the Colonel and not stop him from doing the right thing this time.

  *

  For three days, Yasmin lay in that catatonic state with only Miss Belky to make sure she drank water and was fed beef consommé to help the girl regain her strength.

  Yasmin swallowed willingly, but that was her only response.

  Behind the locked door of Yasmin’s room, where Miss Belky spent most of her day, she’d return late at night in her desperate effort to keep Yasmin alive. It was time for her voodoo magic. Wearing a plain white dress to show the spirits her purity, and with the use of two sticks, to keep a low rhythm, the young Haitian woman did the one thing she knew. She danced her learned rituals, and sang her strange mantras while shaking the prickly lavender branches over the girl in a room lit by hundreds of white candles. Belky was calling a spirit who’d help the girl who might die at any moment.

  In a deeply traumatized person, spirit possession can happen as an expression of the distress for the injured psyche that has experienced multiple adverse psychological events. This can provide a way to enable the traumatized individual to give meaning to their pain and find help with the only readily available resources.

  These patients deserve medical attention concerning the severity of dissociative symptoms after experiencing potentially traumatic events. In the absence of conventional help, the young maid did what she was taught as she grew up in Haiti.

  Miss Belky was schooled in the finer points of possession. She was aware of the possibility that the pathological states of spirit possession could help. The patient’s perception of her illness had to be acknowledged to explore the options to bring the girl back to life. In the absence of a trained physician, a spirit trance, a single episode of alteration in the state of consciousness, could be accompanied by the replacement of the person’s sense of identity.

  This allowed for a new entity to be attributed to the influence of a spirit. It was difficult to determine when the soul left the person, and the trance disorder was finished. However, a person having experienced this was seldom returned to the same behavior as before the trauma.

  On the third day of the possession, Yasmin sat up, her eyes cold and distant, her body shaking uncontrollably, as she relived her trauma. She slowly subsided to a composed demeanor. At this time, she was wearing the simple white dress that Miss Belky brought with her, and the girl suddenly stood up and began to dance, repeating the mantra alongside Miss Belky.

  With a sigh of relief at seeing the girl come to life before her eyes, Miss Belky rejoiced and danced with the girl, thanking the ancient spirits of healing. Once the spell seemed to wear off, Yasmin went back to bed, and the Haitian maid helped her to change into her pajamas.

  The unique white dress that Miss Belky had brought for the ritual was placed at the back of the closet to be used another time. The girl was receptive to the spirits, Miss Belky realized, but she needed help for a complete possession.

  That night, when Tomas returned from being at the club, stinking of alcohol and women, he stopped by his wife’s room, as he had in the past. He was surprised to find her dressed in her pajamas, although seemingly still unconscious. He sat on the edge of her bed, gazing at her.

  Yasmin opened her eyes and sat up without looking at Tomas. In a low and distant voice, she said, “They should not have died that way.”

  The strange voice frightened Tomas, who tried to make her look at him without success, desiring to have his wife back. “Nobody would have had to die if you hadn’t left me, baby.” He whispered these words to his wife and thought he’d noticed a slight movement of her eyelids as she turned to face him.

  Seeing her looking at him for the first time since her collapse, Tomas couldn’t resist placing his lips over hers to give her a kiss. He was about to leave the room.

  With the grace of an awakening queen, Yasmin turned on the bed and stood up.

  Witnessing his beautiful wife in this condition, with her eyes still closed, spooked Tomas enough to make him step back. She didn’t seem anything like the girl he’d known before, although he thought she looked more beautiful than ever.

  *

  Tomas had waited a few days before returning to Yasmin’s room when his desire for his wife was strong enough to bring him back. This time he found Yasmin awake and standing, wearing a strange white dress. To his surprise, Yasmin was dancing, swaying back and forth, humming a barely audible tune, her eyes closed.

  She moved closer to Tomas as if she could see him with her eyes closed. The sensuous movements of her body seemed to invite Tomas to touch her, but every time he tried to reach for her, she moved back in the same sensuous action. Although the dancing aroused Tomas’ desire for his wife, her closed eyes and her swift movement away from him turned Tomas away.

  More than ever, he was thinking that his wife wasn’t going to recover from this trauma, and he’d have no other choice but to have her killed.

  PART FOUR

  Chapter 5

  A Box of Tricks

  Prince went to Yasmin’s room to find the door locked, something that Yasmin had learned never to do, or she would suffer Tomas’ rage. Prince knew it had to be Belky’s doing, and she was up to something. With some understanding of the situation, he knocked urgently, identifying himself, sure that she was in the room.

  “Open the door, Belky,” he insisted, hoping Tomas didn’t get there first. After only a moment’s hesitation, the door opened, and Belky stood in front of her brother wearing her white dress and holding lavender branches in hand. A small drum laid about the highly scented room. The look in her eyes was desperate, frightened of her brother’s reaction.

  Barely looking at his sister, he glanced around the room, noting the paraphernalia she’d brought into the room. Prince moved to Yasmin’s bed, staring at the seemingly lifeless body. “How bad is she?” Prince w
as looking at the almost gray complexion of the girl. He could tell her breathing was very shallow.

  “I’m afraid she’s dying, Prince. She might live if we could take her to a hospital, but you know that will never happen.”

  Prince’s gaze pierced through Belky’s. He wanted to know all the details of Yasmin’s condition and what Belky knew about the cause.

  “When the girl was brought in on the day of the shooting, she was covered with blood that wasn’t her own. There were no physical injuries on her, and the rest, you’ll have to ask Chilo again.”

  Prince nodded, his expression serious.

  Belky said, “Apart from Chilo, Mache, and a few others, some of the men have left. They have been in close conference with the Boss Man and are running through the compound doing his bidding. I’ve been concentrating all my efforts on bringing life back to Yasmin, but with only limited success. I’ve managed to reach some lesser spirits, but not a healing spirit.”

  Belky went on in her own defense, explaining all her attempts to bring life back to the girl. She’d been attempting everything she knew to bring back regular circulation and breathing, but she felt she was losing Yasmin. Whatever happened when she was captured, it must have been something beyond her ability to sustain.

  Prince nodded. “I think I know what she witnessed, but I want to be certain.”

  “We are losing her, and there’s only one way left.” Belky was wearing a frown. “We’ll need to work together.”

  Closing his eyes in silent prayer, Prince agreed. “The girl cannot survive much longer like this. She will die if we don’t try our secret methods.” He glanced at Yasmin and turned to his sister. “Where is Tomas?” A plan was forming.

  Belky thought she knew what her brother had in mind.

  “Since Yasmin’s unconscious state, the Boss Man has been acting like a mad man, shooting his gun in every direction outside the compound until he has everyone scared. Chilo finally stopped him and convinced him to get dressed and go out to the club to meet someone. He’s probably drinking heavily tonight, and I suspect he’ll be back late. He’ll want to check on his wife.”