by Michael Todd
“Let me tell you a little secret,” Mamacita said. “Those teens—they are Katherine’s kids. They were born into the system, because we were not working as we should. They have to work, go to school, or do chores, or they don’t get to play Xbox later. They know the rules.”
“Katherine’s kids,” Korbin said, scrunching his forehead together again. “Holy shit, you are telling me I’m looking at a bunch of prostitutes?”
“Yep.” Mamacita chuckled.
“And you think that the best way to cover this place is by making it look like a whorehouse?” Korbin said, looking at her in shock.
“Not just make it look like one, actually make it one.” She laughed. “Though I do have to say you get points for not thinking of that first. You are more of a man than most. I will also throw in some points for you being so dense you didn’t get it at first, but I can’t decide if that is endearing or not. I know that with the job you hold, you don’t look around you very often. If it is not trying to eat you or kill someone else you pay it no attention whatsoever, but the world—the rest of us—we are still out here, watching and doing our thing.”
“Your thing isn’t right,” he snapped in frustration. “These are young girls.”
“Who have the choice to leave whenever they like,” Mamacita retorted. “Who are encouraged to build themselves above the system. You know what’s not right, Korbin?”
Korbin looked down at the fiery woman, knowing he had said the wrong thing. He had pushed her buttons, and part of him felt bad about it.
He was judging something he didn’t understand.
“What’s not right is a bunch of people taking on the challenge of fighting for the ignorant, who don’t have a clue they are in danger,” she told him.
“You know too much,” Korbin growled, bothered by that fact. “Katie has told you too much.”
“Katie hasn’t told us anything.” Mamacita sighed. “Look, the bugs know when to get out of the way, cause that’s the only way we will live. Armani…he treated us like people, so we had to figure out who you were. Now, though, we know Damian and Katie, and eventually we’ll know you. Joshua is just as innocent as the rest of us. We are not stupid, Korbin. Well, not all of us, anyway. Some of us know what is going on, but we can’t fight others, except those who have been human all their lives. But we can move our house over here, and build a house around the forge. We can do our part to help.”
Korbin shook his head. “I don’t know…”
“It will take money, sure, but do you know any government official who will come into a whorehouse with so many eyes watching or videotaping them?” Mamacita smiled.
“Maybe you are right,” Korbin allowed, “but Lord help me, I have no idea how I am going to explain this to Katie if I decide to make this happen.”
“You explain it as you doing what is best for your team, and for humanity,” Mamacita told him with a nod.
15
Katie stared out the window at the cars passing them on the 405. They were on their way to Los Angeles, and had almost reached LAX. This area was a lot different than San Diego. Everyone was in a hurry and looked angry, and the level of smog in the air was almost unbelievable. She was starting to see why the people in Los Angeles would hate the laid-back hippie atmosphere of San Diego so much. She could also see why you would choose to live in San Diego over LA in a heartbeat. Still, it was a beautiful city with skyscrapers looming in the distance and angel wings painted on so many different surfaces.
Oh my God! Pandora squealed.
What? Katie said, jumping slightly, her hand lingering on the butt of the gun. What do you see?
Sweet Satan, my dreams have come true, Pandora replied. The sign has shown itself.
What? What sign?
Katie looked out the window, ready to see a demon standing in the middle of the city. From Pandora’s reaction, she assumed the thing would be larger than King Kong. However, as she looked toward the airport she relaxed into her seat, shaking her head. She saw a sign all right, but it was a donut the size of a house in the distance next to a sign for Randy’s Donuts.
You are going to get someone shot, Katie told her. And I’m telling you right now, I will not allow any more weight to work its way onto these hips.
I promise there will be none on your hips, Pandora said.
I don’t want fat! Katie growled.
Fine, Pandora huffed. But you need more curves.
No fucking way, Katie said angrily. Muscle! I need muscle!
Fine…muscle, then, Pandora grumped. Just get me more fucking donuts!
I’ll see what I can do, Katie said with a smile, thinking she had finally gotten the upper hand.
“I don’t understand,” T’Chezz growled, swiping his arms across the table and knocking everything onto the floor. “This was foolproof! You are not as much of an idiot as the others. You were supposed to secure this thing for us!”
“It wasn’t that simple,” the demon said, rubbing his head. “The bitch stabbed me in the fucking head from six stories up!”
“So?” T’Chezz growled. “You are a demon. That shit is not supposed to injure you.”
“These were different,” the demon admitted. “These blades, they were made of something I’ve never felt before. It’s like they have holy weapons or something. It damages us. If she hadn’t pulled those blades out, I would have died right there in that dimension. I wouldn’t have returned, and you would have been out another goddamned demon.”
“These weapons…” T’Chezz began, crumbling a stone in his hand. He didn’t care in the least whether the other demon died. “They were made by the priest?”
“I don’t know,” the demon replied. “There was no priest there. Just a girl, and a mouthy black man.”
“Did you even fight?” T’Chezz growled. “And the girl…could you sense her demon? Obviously she has one. No human has those powers.” He pulled a piece of meat out of his mouth, looked at it, and tossed it to the side.
Lunch.
He pondered for a moment. “Maybe it was my sister, that annoying bitch.”
“I don’t know.” The demon sighed. “I was fighting the black guy pretty much the whole time. I was so close to killing him, the fight started to leave his eyes in his exhaustion. Then, out of nowhere this bitch lands on my shoulders and plunges her fucking knives into my damned skull. The pain was unreal, unlike anything I have felt before. My eyes blurred and my head was throbbing. There was no time to sense what demon she had in her.”
“You still owe me,” T’Chezz growled, turning around and staring at the demon. “I got you to Earth, but you failed to deliver the results I contracted for.”
“Your human vessels are weak,” the demon argued, annoyed. “I was set up to fail from the beginning, and you didn’t mention any hellrats coming after me. I was prepared for those measly police, but got Robobitch and Eddie Murphy telling dick jokes while trying to kill me in the streets.”
“Our contract is still in force,” T’Chezz growled.
“I know,” he groaned. “I fucking know. Obviously I will go back, but I want to wait. I want to catch them when they are not expecting it. They will be on high alert now, just waiting for me.”
“No,” T’Chezz yelled. “You will go back now; as soon as it can be arranged. There is no more time for tiptoeing around these humans. We are stronger and smarter than them. We can’t allow these types of challenges to stand in our way while they celebrate their victories and pound each other on their backs.”
T’Chezz slammed his fist on the table and walked out of the room, leaving the demon on his own.
He turned and looked out the window at the flowing lava in the distance, his lip curling into a snarl. He didn’t like being pushed around, but he had signed a contract in blood. “Maybe T’Chezz should go to Earth and get stabbed,” he grumbled. “Then we’ll see how enthusiastic he is to go back.”
The reporter was on her sixth house. “Did you see anything strange th
e other night?” Charlotte asked as a woman as she stood on her front porch.
“No,” she said angrily. “I done told the cops to leave me at peace. I don’t know nothing.”
With that the woman slammed the door in Charlotte’s face.
Charlotte took a deep breath and turned around, walking down the steps and back out to the curb. She put her pen back into the spine of her notebook and looked at the drug house on the corner. She knew someone had to have seen something. The place was right out there for everyone to see.
“I saw a car arrive,” a voice said from beside her.
“You did?” she asked, pulling out the notebook again and smiling at an old man. The man had torn clothes and bad teeth, and the smell of whiskey emanated from his pores. He had stopped on the sidewalk with his cart in front of him.
“Oh yeah, fancy thing.” He nodded. “Blacked-out Mercedes, I believe. It had some sort of special tag, but I couldn’t see what it was. There was a driver in the front, and he let the person in the back out. I turned away at that point. I didn’t want to be part of nothing like that. I knew something bad was going to happen.”
“Right.” Charlotte smiled, pulling a five from her pocket and handing it to the man. “Thanks a lot.”
“Sure, sure,” he said, turning back to his cart and moving down the street.
Charlotte was trying to remember that car. She knew she had seen it somewhere before. There had to be some sort of record of it coming to the neighborhood.
She headed toward the small businesses on the streets. She figured maybe someone in those shops had cameras that pointed in the direction of the house. She was hoping to get a good picture of the person who got out of that car. With money like that in an area like she was in, they would have been someone important.
She stood in front of the house and looked up and down the street. The house cattycorner to the drug house had a camera mounted at the front door, pointed outward. She shook her head and walked over, knocking on the door.
“Yes?” The woman answered the door in a housecoat and slippers.
She looked up. “Hi, I’m Charlotte. I’m a reporter, and I was wondering… This camera up here, does it work?”
“Oh, yes,” the woman told her. “I order a lot of packages from Amazon, and those little sonsabitches around here like to come by and snag my packages right off my front porch. Now if they do I can see exactly who did it, and either call their mama, ‘cause usually they punk-ass little kids, or call the cops if I need to. I’s recovered four different packages because of it, and now they don’t come up on my porch so much.”
Charlotte smiled. “That’s a very smart idea.”
“The only thing that’s annoyin’ is that it turns on any time it catches movement.” She shook her head. “A car, a cat, a squirrel—anything sets it off.”
“That stinks for you, but that’s actually perfect for what I am looking for.” Charlotte took a deep breath. “Is there any way you would let me see the footage from the other night, when the deaths occurred at the house across from you?”
“Oh, I didn’t even think of that.” She slowly nodded to herself. “Sure, sure, come on in.”
“Awesome,” she exclaimed, looking behind her as she entered the house and shut the door.
About twenty minutes later Charlotte emerged from the house once again, her disappointment reinforced. She couldn’t seem to catch a break. It was almost as if the person had scouted the street beforehand. The camera had gotten a shot of the car, and a clear one at that, but the windows were blacked out and it was from the side. She couldn’t see the tag, and the footage stopped at the hood of the car, so she wasn’t able to see any faces either. The driver had a dark shadow over him as he got out and went around.
“I’m sorry I wasn’t been any more help,” the woman said.
“Oh, no.” Charlotte smiled. “You were a huge help, thank you so much for your time.”
“You’re welcome. Be safe out here, a young thing like you.” She shook her head. “It’ll get dark soon, and you don’t want to be on these streets by yourself then.”
“Yes, ma’am. I only have a couple more things to do, then I’ll be on my way.” Charlotte smiled as she walked down the porch stairs and back to the sidewalk.
She sighed and shoved her folded notebook into the back pocket of her pants. She started walking, not sure where she was going but figuring maybe something would catch her eye. About a block down, she stopped and stared at a pawn shop located right there on the corner. They had cameras everywhere, every single one of which was pointed in a different direction—including straight down the street toward the drug house.
Charlotte knew the owners of the pawn shop wouldn’t be too keen on letting her walk in there and grab footage from their cameras. It was a bad neighborhood, and if they thought they could be implicated in getting some thug caught, they would stay far away. She thought about calling the police to get the information for her, but in this kind of neighborhood the owners would just say the cameras weren’t working.
They wouldn’t want any kind of retaliation against the shop, since it was their livelihood and a good one for an area like that. She looked through her bag and stared down at the camera inside. It was her most prized possession; she had worked for over a year to save up enough money to afford the thing. It was the reason she got so many cover stories for the publication—she had the camera there to point and shoot. She didn’t make enough to pay a photographer, so that was pretty much her only move.
She knew she would have to use it to negotiate if she wanted to see that data.
She pulled out her phone, and looked through her received calls until she found the one from Calvin. If they wanted information they were going to have to help her get it, and that meant making sure she got her camera back after her effort. She wanted to know about her aunt, but this camera was the key to her livelihood.
Katie answered, “Hello?”
“Katie, it’s Charlotte,” she replied.
“Hey! Have you found anything out?”
“Just the color and make of the car,” Charlotte said. “But look, there is a pawn shop here on the corner with cameras pointing straight at the drug house. I know that whatever they have on tape, it’s going to give me something really good to go from. The thing is, they aren’t just going to hand it over. I’m going to need you to promise me that you will get my camera out of hock when you are done.”
“Your camera?” Katie asked, confused.
“It’s all I have to barter with,” Charlotte explained. “And it’s the only thing I have to my name, so I need it back.”
“All right,” Katie agreed. “Write down the name and address of the shop and whatever I need to get camera back, and I’ll take care of it. When you get the information, call us immediately.”
“Will do,” Charlotte said, pressing End.
She looked at the store and straightened her shirt, slightly nervous. She worked for a publication where you didn’t go undercover very often. In most cases you were right out there in the open. “Undercover” to her meant finding the right bush to hide in, then pretending to be someone else.
She pulled out her camera and looked down at it sadly, even rubbing her thumb over the top like she was petting a dog.
“Don’t worry, little camera,” she whispered. “I’ll make sure you get back home safe and sound, but first I gotta help find a world-class asshole.”
Charlotte put on a tough face and put the camera back in her bag, then walked into the pawn shop. The owner came over from one side of his counter to the area closer to her and smiled as she approached the counter. He knew she was there for more than jewelry or DVD’s.
“What can I do for you?” he asked.
“I need to see your camera footage from the other night,” she told him.
“Do you have a warrant?” he asked, guarded.
“Oh, no. I’m not a cop, I’m a reporter.” She smiled sweetly.
“O
h.” He chuckled, then straightened his face and leaned across the counter, his hands clasped in front of him. “Then what do you have to offer me in return?”
Charlotte sighed and reached into her bag, slowly pulling out the camera and setting it on the counter. She was starting to think demon hunting wasn’t as glamorous as it looked to be.
Either way, though, she was in it—and there was no turning back.
16
“The death of those children was not only devastating, but it is something I and the rest of the politicians in this country should take full responsibility for, I believe,” the politician lamented as he sat in his chair. “There is no excuse for a bus full of children being captured and injured—or killed, in several cases—without the hand of God himself coming down on them.” His voice rose as one of his fingers stabbed the air above his head. “There should have been strategies employed long before this to keep our children safe. They are the future of this world. Those tiny hands and tiny feet will sculpt our future.” He dropped his arm and sighed heavily, weariness in his voice. “Now we have a bus full of children, including three whose families we pray for nightly, with terrible memories. From what I’ve been told they are all seeing therapists, but there is no excuse for a child to ever have to go through something that damaging—not when we could have avoided it from the beginning.”
“And what are your plans to prevent future events like this?” a Hispanic male reporter asked.
The politician nodded and sat up a little straighter. “I am currently pushing legislation through that will make it a requirement for all buses to have tracking devices active at all times—paid for by the federal government of course,” he explained. “We understand that the smaller communities don’t have the funds to accomplish this, but their children are no less important than the ones who live and go to school in the larger communities.”
