Animal 4.5

by K'wan

“We gotta get out of here. With all that shooting I’m pretty sure one of the neighbors has called the police already,” Sonja said.

  “Then that means when we vanish it has to be without a trace,” Cain said. He looked to his brother. “You know what to do.”

  Abel nodded and disappeared into the kitchen. They could hear the ticking of the stove, followed by the pungent odor of gas spreading through the house. A few seconds later, Abel came out of the kitchen holding the messenger bag. “We’re all set. Let’s move.”

  “I can’t leave him here like this. He was my brother and deserves better,” Animal said, still kneeling over Brasco’s body.

  Cain placed a hand on Animal’s shoulder. “I don’t like it either, but he’s dead and there’s nothing the living can do for the dead except honor their memories. If you want to make sure his memory lives on then when we get your kids back you make sure you tell them what kind of man their uncle Brasco was. Honor him that way.”

  After a while, Animal allowed Ashanti and Cain to help him to his feet and steer him through the sea of dead bodies and out of the apartment. Using the elevator was out of the question so they took the stairs and exited the building through the underground garage. They had made it roughly two blocks before they heard the explosion. The band of outlaws stood on the sidewalk looking up at the flames that spilled from what used to be the twins’ balcony. Cain wasn’t lying when he said they had to disappear without a trace. The apartment wasn’t in either of the twins’ names and any evidence that could connect them to it would be devoured by the fire.

  Ashanti and Animal stood shoulder to shoulder watching the fire and paying silent homage to their fallen comrade. For a long few moments, neither of them spoke. It was Animal who eventually broke the eerie silence.

  “Ashanti, I remember you once telling me about a man that you used on a job, One-Eye Jack. Do you know how to get in contact with him?”

  Ashanti gave him a strange look. “Yes, but if we’re planning on robbing Lilith’s boat what good is that crazy old pyromaniac gonna do.”

  “We’re not going to rob The Red Widow…we’re going to sink it.”

  CHAPTER 18

  When most heard stories about the infamous Mountain occupied by the Brotherhood of Blood, thoughts came into mind of some dreary fortress carved into the side of some mountain in a far off region. Nothing could’ve been further from the truth. It was actually a compound nestled in the Blue Ridge Mountains of Bluemont, V.A.

  The Brotherhood’s stronghold was located beneath a place called Mount Weather, which was a government facility that was controlled by the Department of Defense. It was said to be the center of operations for F.E.M.A, but that was only to hide its real purpose. Mount Weather was a facility where the top people in the government were to be relocated to in the case of a national disaster. Occupying 434 acres of mountain area, it was said to be one of the largest and safest facilities in the world. You couldn’t get within pissing distance of Mount Weather without having the government crawling up your ass. It made the perfect hiding place for the order of assassins.

  Kahllah rode in the back of an unmarked van with Anwar and his men from D.C. to Bluemont, Virginia. The distance was only forty-eight miles, so the ride wasn’t a long one, but it felt like it. She could tell by the expressions on the faces of the young souls gathered that they were trying to brave, but were actually nervous. She couldn’t say that she blamed them. They’d just been asked to accompany a woman they didn’t know by anything other than reputation on a suicide mission.

  “Are you sure about this Kahllah?” Anwar asked from the passenger seat where he was riding. “There’s still time to turn back.”

  “Not for me there isn’t,” Kahllah said. If she tried to run, she knew that Khan and his agents would hunt her for the rest of her life. The only way to solve her problem was to face it head on.

  They drove the van as close to the mountain as they dared before pulling off the road. The closer they got, the greater the risk of being detected by one of Mount Weather’s security patrols. They were extremely diligent in their job of making sure no one got too close to the facility without being intercepted. Kahllah and Anwar would have to hike the last few miles on foot. Kahllah grabbed the backpacks that contained the things they would need for their mission while Anwar gave last minute instructions to his men. They were to return to the spot where they’d dropped them off every three hours for the next twelve hours. If Kahllah and Anwar hadn’t returned by then, the men should assume they were dead and abort the mission.

  The first couple of miles through the woods leading to the Mountain were spent in silence. Kahllah was preparing herself mentally for what was to come. Getting into the Mountain would be easy enough; it’s what she had to do once she was inside that would present the real problem. There was no way to know for sure if she would be able to rouse Nicodemus, and even if she was lucky enough to wake him, who was to say that he would be sympathetic to her plight? Nicodemus was fiercely loyal to the Brotherhood and quite fond of Lilith. It was a very real possibility that they’d been able to turn Anwar against her and he could’ve been walking her to her death. Still, she didn’t have much other choice. She had exhausted all other options and now all she had was faith to go on.

  Times like those, she missed her father. If Priest were still alive, he’d have not only stood up for her, but also taken the lives of those who sought to harm her. He had always been her biggest supporter when it came to pursing her dreams, and her biggest disciplinarian when she found herself straying from the path. Sometimes the things he did seemed cruel, but it was just his way of showing her that he cared. Priest had never been the most conventional parent, but what he lacked in parental skills, he made up for in love. She questioned a great many things about her father, but how much he loved her was never one of them.

  “Is it true?” Anwar asked, breaking the silence. “Is what true?”

  “The things they’re saying, about you straying from the path,” he elaborated.

  “What do you think, Anwar?”

  “The fact that I’m cutting through the woods with you in the middle of the night should tell you what I think. I know you’re no traitor, Kahllah, but I also know how easily things from the world outside ours can sway us from the path the elders have laid for us. I’ve had my fair share of second thoughts as to whether or not me remaining with the Brotherhood was the best thing for me.”

  Kahllah nodded in understanding. “I don’t know if it’s accurate to say that I’ve strayed from the path. It’s more like the path has strayed from me. There was a time in my life when I lived solely for the purpose of serving my order, but now I’m not so sure we share the same ideals. Things are changing and I’m not sure where or if I fit in with these changes.”

  “I can respect that,” Anwar said. He could tell she really didn’t want to talk about it so he let it drop.

  They hiked through about three more miles of wood until they came upon a tall rock face. From the overgrown vegetation under their feet and snaking its way up the wall, you could tell that the path hadn’t been used in ages.

  “Have we taken a wrong turn?” Anwar asked, studying the wall. It seemed to stretch infinitely upward. Anwar was a skilled climber, but not that skilled.

  “No,” Kahllah stepped forward and began running her hands along the wall as if she was looking for something.

  There was the sound of something moving through the brush a few yards away. Anwar removed a pair of small, night vision binoculars from his pack and scanned the woods. In the distance, he could see several men wearing masks moving through the trees. They were fanned out and searching for something, likely them. Anwar wasn’t sure if his men had betrayed him, or just dumb luck, but they had been found out. “Lotus, in about thirty seconds we’re going to have company and I don’t think they’re bringing wine to have with dinner. If you’ve got something planned, please do it now before we die in these woods.”

  “Be qui
et and let me think,” she continued searching the rock face. She finally found what she was looking for, a small notch carved into the rock. It wasn’t very large, only big enough for her to slip her pinky into.

  “Almost…almost…” she continued wriggling her finger around in the hole, looking for the release. Finally, there was the whoosh of air and the rock face slid back, allowing enough space for her to slip through. Without a word, she grabbed Anwar and pulled him through behind her. Once they were inside, the rock face slid back into place as if it had never been disturbed.

  They found themselves within a dark and stale smelling tunnel. Kahllah removed one of the glow sticks she was carrying, and snapped it, releasing the chemicals that caused the soft white glow inside.

  “I had no idea that was there,” Anwar said, looking at the wall in amazement.

  “Of course you didn’t. You’re not old enough or of a high enough rank,” Kahllah told him. She wasn’t trying to slight him, just being honest. “This is a secret known to only the eldest and most trusted of our order. There are entrances like these all over the mountain. They were created so that in the event that the Mountain was ever breached by our enemies, the elders wouldn’t be trapped.”

  “And do you care to tell me how you know about these doors if they’re secrets only for the elders?” Anwar asked.

  “My dad showed it to me and his dad showed it to him. Our roots in the Brotherhood are three generations strong…technically four now.” She thought of Animal’s children.

  This surprised Anwar. “I didn’t know you were a legacy.”

  “Neither did I until recently. Enough talking, voices carry far too easily in these tunnels and we don’t want to get caught,” she told him before walking off.

  It was so dark that Anwar couldn’t see how far the tunnel stretched, but it seemed to go on forever. They had been walking for nearly twenty minutes when he felt the ground start to slope downward. They were headed deeper into the Mountain and into the heart of their stronghold.

  “Hold this.” Kahllah handed him the glow stick and walked slightly ahead of him where it was too dark to see. Anwar could hear her rummaging around inside her pack. When Kahllah reemerged from the darkness she had changed her clothes. She was now wearing a long white robe with billowing sleeves. A white hijab covered her hair and the lower half of her face. “What do you think, could I pass for a healer,” she twirled so he could get a good look at the whole outfit.

  Anwar admired her curves pressing against the thin white material. “I don’t know, but I’d let you lay hands on me any day,” he joked.

  “Let’s see how witty you’ll be if we get caught and Khan cuts out your tongue,” she scolded him.

  “Lighten up, sheesh. Where did you stash your blades?” he asked.

  Kahllah rolled up her sleeves and showed him the two long daggers she had strapped to each forearm. “They aren’t my swords, but they’ll have to do.”

  “Where to now?”

  Kahllah pointed to several notches carved into the wall. “Up. There’s a hatch just above us that should put us in the garden if I’m not mistaken. At this hour, it should be empty,” she took the glow stick back from him.

  “Unless someone has decided to take a late night stroll,” Anwar said.

  Kahllah ignored his comment and began climbing up the notches in the wall. Even with the glow stick clamped between her teeth, partially lighting their way, it was still hard to see what was above her. She had to take her time to make sure she didn’t crack her head. When she got to the top, she used one hand to hold firmly to one of the notches while using the other to push the hatch in the ceiling. It hadn’t been used in a while, so it was stuck and she had to give it a good push to get it to move. She accidentally pushed a little too hard and sent it flipping open, making a slapping sound when it connected with the floor overhead. Both Kahllah and Anwar froze, listening for any signs that someone had heard the noise. Only when she was sure that all was clear, did she climb out into the garden.

  The Mountain’s indoor garden was one of the only things in the entire compound that sported any real colors. There were almost two hundred different species of flowers, plants, and weeds; some of which you could no longer find anywhere on the planet except the Brotherhood’s garden. Sunlight was fed through the large halogen lamps that covered almost the entire ceiling, and they were watered by time released sprinklers. Kahllah had spent countless hours roaming the two acre indoor jungle studying the different types of plants. It was that very garden that inspired her name Black Lotus, and taught her the skills to change the color of the normally white flower to black. Ironically enough, it was Tiger Lily who had taught it to her.

  For all their differences, they shared a love and vast knowledge of plant life. After helping Anwar through the hole, they began the trek to Nicodemus’s quarters.

  Walking the halls of the Mountain felt strange to Kahllah. She had grown up in the cold gray halls, yet now they felt alien. It was just another sign the growing distance between she and the order. As they were strolling down a long corridor, they noticed two of the brothers coming in their direction. Kahllah knew their faces, but not their names. They had been chatting amongst themselves, but when they spotted Anwar and Kahllah, they focused their attention on them. Kahllah’s heart raced and her armpits sweated. She tucked her hands into the sleeves of the robe, clutching her blades. If they were stopped, there would be no negotiation. She was going to end them before they had a chance to sound the alarm.

  They were within mere feet of the two brothers when something akin to recognition crossed one of their faces. She began easing her blades from their sheaths in anticipation of battle. Kahllah was just about to strike when the brothers nodded in greeting and kept walking. “That was close,” she sighed.

  “Tell me about it. I think I shit my pants,” Anwar said, half- jokingly. “Let’s get this over with quickly.”

  Nicodemus didn’t occupy the same wing of the mountain as the other elders. His quarters were the east wing. When they rounded the final corner to get to Nicodemus’ room, they spied two guards standing outside his door, armed with tall spears. They were dressed in all black with masks covering their faces, one red and one blue. When they spotted Anwar and the woman in white coming their way, they stood at attention and gripped their spears a bit tighter.

  “Evening, brothers,” Anwar greeted them warmly. “I’ve brought a healer to give the elder his treatment.”

  The one in the blue mask cocked his head and regarded Kahllah. “Nicodemus has already had his second session for the day and we weren’t notified about a third.”

  “I’m afraid this was kind of short notice. We’d gotten word that Nicodemus’ condition is worsening, so we had one of our most skilled healers flown in from Spain. I’ve only just now picked her up from the airport,” Anwar lied. He was surprisingly quick on his feet when it came to bending the truth.

  Red mask and Blue mask exchanged glances. “We’ll have to clear it with Khan or Bastille first,” Red mask said.

  Anwar sighed. “I guess you’ve got to do what you’ve got to do, but I warn you that if something happens to Nicodemus because I didn’t get her to him in time you’ll be the one to explain it to Khan.”

  This seemed to get their attention. Red mask and Blue mask stepped to the side to confer. After some debate they returned to their positions. “She may go inside, but you’ll have to wait out here,” Blue mask told him.

  “Of course,” Anwar stepped to the side so she could pass. He waited until she had disappeared inside before releasing the breath he was holding. “It’s all up to you now Lotus,” he whispered to himself.

  *

  Nicodemus’ sleeping quarters were on the small side, barely big enough to hold his bookshelf, bed, and writing table. On the shelves and stacked wherever there was space, were books about world history, war, and of course poisons. He had always been a very well read man.

  She smelled him before her eyes
landed on him in the darkened room. The scent of death and sickness hung thick in the air. Moving as soundlessly as possible, she crossed the room to his bedside and cut on the small reading lamp. Hanging from the headboard of his bed was his trusty bullwhip. Nicodemus was so skilled with it that he could strike with deadly accuracy. She had once seen him knock a cigarette from a man’s mouth from halfway across the room because he refused to stop smoking while they were having dinner at a restaurant. She ran her fingers along the withered leather remembering happier times under the Mountain, when she felt a sharp pain that made her snatch her hand back. Blood welled on the tip of her thumb from whatever she had pricked her finger on. She looked closer at the whip and saw the sparkle of diamond dust braided into it. That was a new addition.

  Her eyes traveled from the whip to the man lying in the bed and when she took stock of him, her heart sank. His once vibrant and thick silver hair was now thin and dull. His cheeks looked sunken and dark circles rung his closed eyes. This feeble thing lying in the bed before her was not the man she remembered. “What have they done to you?” she stroked his hair lovingly. Nicodemus stirred fitfully in his sleep, but he did not wake.

  Kahllah pulled off her hijab and sat it to the side. She knew she didn’t have much time before the guards got suspicious and came to check on her. She pulled the gold necklace from inside her robe and popped the cylindrical pendent from her neck. She held it in her hands, feeling the warmth radiating from it. The true purpose of the pendent was something that she had never shared with another soul, including her father. It was the price Sharif had paid for Anwar’s life; his blood. Carefully, she twisted the cylinder between her two fingers and opened it. Most dismissed the stories of the children of the damned as myths, but Kahllah knew better. She had trafficked with the house of the Gehenna assassins and had seen first hand what the cursed blood could do. She had always thought she’d save Sharif’s gift for herself to use during dire times, but it didn’t get direr than what had become of Nicodemus. If she planned to live, she needed Nicodemus to wake up and the blood was her longest and best shot.