Slay

by Kim Curran

  JD looked back to where he’d seen the golden eyes glowing. Three men stood in the wings. As he watched, their faces warped and stretched till they were completely unrecognizable as humans. Straight white teeth buckled and grew into sharp points, limbs bulged and grew black-spotted fur, and fingers rippled and grew razor-sharp claws. More of Zyanya’s Jaguar Warriors. Demon beasts summoned to protect their priestess.

  His reflexes twitched, ready to fight, but his first priority, beyond even protecting Milly or the boys, was to protect the fans. He picked out one face in the crowd: a young girl with glossy tears of joy pouring down her plump cheeks as she stared up at JD. They couldn’t fight the creatures in full view of this many people, not without causing utter chaos.

  “Stage fright,” JD shouted to the others, covering the mic with his hand.

  There was barely a moment’s delay as the four other boys processed the meaning of the code phrase and sprang into action. Gail too was ready. She flicked a switch and lights spun around to point at the crowd, the stage flooded with dry ice and laser beams pulsed around in circles. A track of one of Slay’s songs blasted out at even higher volume. All just disorientating enough to hide what was about to happen from the audience.

  Now that he didn’t have to worry about revealing their secret to thousands of people, JD focused all of his attention on the sets of golden eyes to his left. He kicked the mic stand free of its base and, with a flick of a button, released the spear hidden within. Tom reached under the keyboards to pull out a small crossbow. Connor tossed away his drumsticks and grabbed a new set from the holder – these were made from titanium and sharpened to a deadly point. Niv and Zek threw down their guitars and picked up matching bright red ones from the stand on the stage. They didn’t bother putting them over their shoulders and instead held them by the neck, like baseball bats. If anyone actually tried to play these guitars they would have been in for a nasty surprise. The boys had never been attacked onstage before, but Gail had made sure they’d always be ready.

  The five boys formed a line, JD in the middle, Tom on his right, Connor on his left and the twins on the ends. The Jaguar Warriors charged. The first only made it a few metres before Connor threw one of his sticks. It sliced through the air and into the Jaguar Warrior’s heart. The demon roared in rage but kept coming, right into the path of Niv.

  The twin swung the guitar with all his might, his mouth open in a silent scream. The instrument crashed against the creature’s head and chest, red wood splintering and flying in all directions. But the wires didn’t break. They kept on, slicing through its flesh, through its neck, till they passed out the other side, cleanly removing head from body. Because this guitar hadn’t been strung with ordinary strings, it had been strung with razor wire.

  The head bounced on the stage floor, its golden eyes open in surprise, and the body slumped and toppled forward.

  One down, two to go. The second Jaguar Warrior hesitated after seeing his friend dispatched with such little effort.

  “Bring it, you hairy goat-lover!” Zek shouted, hefting his guitar-come-club over his shoulder. It looked like he was hoping to match his brother’s truly monumental takedown.

  The Jaguar Warrior snarled, the drool dripping from its maws like liquid mercury in the black light. JD wondered if it would back off – it must know it was outnumbered. But fear clearly wasn’t part of this thing’s make-up – or logic, for that matter. It leaped straight at JD. JD jumped too, meeting the creature in mid-air. His spear slashed, meeting little resistance, and by the time he landed, one knee bent, his arm holding the spear stretched out behind him, there was another dead beast lying on the floor.

  The final beast sprung high into the air, leaping right over their heads and landing behind them. Before the boys could change formation, Gail burst out from the wings, her long limbs flick-flacking over each other as she pulled off graceful one-legged cartwheels. She came to a stop, her bad leg stretched out to the side, her good leg bent low. She held her stick loosely in her left hand; the scabbard was off and the sword was out. She whistled, as if calling to a dog. The beast reared up and roared at her. JD didn’t even move. He knew Gail could more than handle herself against one of those things. Hell, she could have probably taken on all three of the beasts while the boys carried on with the show. Even with her injured leg and her missing eye, she was a formidable fighter.

  The beast swiped at her, its claws slicing through her T-shirt. Her blade flashed in a figure of eight. Slice, slice, slice. One more disposed of.

  JD peered into the wings, checking for any other demon beasts – and that’s when he saw her. Zyanya stood there, clapping slowly, her arms stretched towards him as if she was offering up her applause to the boys. Then she stepped back into the shadows and vanished into the darkness.

  They’d been so stupid to underestimate her – to think that she was powerless without Mourdant. Well, they wouldn’t make that mistake a second time. But first, the show. The fight had taken less than two minutes. He could sense the crowd starting to get nervous, worried that the gig had come to a sudden end. He was desperate to chase after Milly, but if JD and the others didn’t reassure them that everything was okay, they might have a riot on their hands.

  The roadies, who had been hand-selected because of their own experiences with demons but who were under strict instruction to stay out of demonic fights for their own safety, rushed on and dragged the bodies away. A loud clapping and stamping started up in the crowd.

  “We ready?” JD called out to the group.

  “Born ready,” the four other boys replied in unison.

  The lights turned back to the stage and the crowd roared in appreciation. “Sorry about that technical hitch,” JD said, trying to keep the aching anxiety out of his voice. “But we couldn’t leave you without saying a ‘Last Goodbye’.”

  Cries of joy and disappointment poured out of the crowd as they realized this would be Slay’s last song of the night. It was always the last song they played. JD sang as the others joined in, harmonizing. He pushed back the fear that tightened his vocal cords and twisted his stomach. Connor played just a little too fast, as eager as he was to finish; Niv strummed his guitar so hard he broke a string. They were all fighting to stay in control.

  When the last note came to an end, JD flung the guitar off his shoulder and threw it to the floor. “Thank you, Mexico!”

  The show was over.

  When Milly came to, there was only darkness. She couldn’t move her hands or feet, and rough material chafed her cheek. The material was damp from her exhalations, which made it hard to breathe. A cloth bag over her head, she reasoned, and plastic ties around her wrists and ankles.

  She twisted her wrists in the bindings, but it only made the pain worse as the sharp plastic sawed at her skin. Milly cursed all those hours she’d spent studying; cramming her head with quadratic equations, Latin puns and learning the difference between stalactites and stalagmites. What use was any of that now that she was tied up in the back of a truck and about to be sacrificed to a demon god? She’d taken so much pride in knowing as much as she could, in reading everything she could get her hands on. And for what? To please her mother, who hardly noticed she existed?

  An old resentment bubbled up, twisting at her insides as sharply as the bindings did her wrists. If her mother hadn’t always been chasing her next big shot, if she’d cared more for her daughter than she had fame, then she’d never have been seduced by Mourdant, and Milly wouldn’t be all alone and being taken who knew where.

  Don’t think about that now, she told herself. Focus. First things first, she thought, trying to calm the panic clutching at her heart, where are you? She felt the hum of an engine through her bones. She must be in a vehicle and, judging by the way she was being thrown around, they were moving at top speed over very rough roads. She had no idea how far away she was from Valladolid and the boys. She hoped they were alright, that they’d fought off Zyanya. They had to be alright. For now, she had
to worry about herself.

  She ran through her options and they were pretty limited. She was trussed up and ready for sacrifice. She remembered Diaz’s description of the ritual of Tezcatlipoca, how the sacrifice would have their heart cut out. In the darkness, the image of Alice’s face flashed through her mind. Was that how she was going to end up?

  No. Whatever Zyanya might have said about Milly being willing, there was no way Milly was going to give up without a fight. While she was still alive there was still hope. If only there was a way of sending a message to the others…

  “You idiot!” she said out loud when she realized how stupid she’d been.

  Tom’s phone was still in her back pocket. Now, if only she could get to it. She was almost grateful to whoever had tied her hands behind her back, because it meant she could easily reach her pocket. She pulled the phone out and cursed when it slipped through her damp fingers and fell to the floor with a clatter. She patted around trying to find it and, at last, felt the cool glass under her fingers again. She’d turned the phone off when the show was on, so she pushed the power button, wishing she could see the reassuring light of it coming on. When the starting noise chimed, she thought it was the sweetest sound she’d ever heard. She slipped the phone back into her pocket. Now, she just had to hope that the boys would have the same idea as her. If they didn’t…

  The vehicle came to a sudden stop. There was the sound of a door rattling, opening. She pressed herself against the cold metal wall, wishing that somehow she could pass through it. Footsteps. Her hood was lifted. She blinked in dull light, looking up at the man standing over her.

  He looked normal enough, apart from the shimmering golden eyes. He had thinning black hair and a nose that had been spread flat across his face.

  “Please, you don’t have to do this. You can let me go. I know you’re kind, you probably have a family waiting for you. I know you’re not this…this thing.”

  “Oh, you know, do you?” The man laughed a dark, sickening laugh. “Think you’re clever, do you? You don’t know jack.”

  The flicker of hope in Milly’s chest died.

  The man reached into a bag behind him, pulled out what looked like a white sheet and threw it by Milly’s feet. “The priestess wants you ready when we arrive. Put it on.”

  It was a robe of some kind. Like the outfit she’d been forced to wear when playing the angel in her school nativity when she was six, minus the tinsel halo. She sniffed, hoping he didn’t notice her snotty nose and watering eyes. She didn’t want him to know just how scared she was.

  “How am I supposed to put it on with my hands still bound, genius?”

  The man grunted and pulled out a switchblade. He flicked it open and bent down so he was nose-to-nose with Milly. She could feel the tip of the knife resting against her chin.

  “Now, put it on, or I will make you. Do we understand each other?” Milly nodded as best she could without puncturing her skin on his knife. He moved away and spun her around. She felt pressure on the bindings and then the tightness around her wrists gave.

  “Ah, now what’s this?”

  Milly turned to see Tom’s mobile phone in the man’s hands. He dropped it and smashed it under his heel. Milly felt like he’d crushed all her hopes with it.

  “Think you’re clever, do you? Well, not too clever for me.”

  She’d need to think of another plan, and fast. She rubbed her wrists, the pain spiking as the blood flowed back to her fingers. The man waited while she pulled the robe on over her clothes – there was no way she was undressing in front of him. It swamped her, the hem gathering on the floor, the sleeves falling way below her fingertips. And it smelled like a wet dog.

  “Happy now, clever clogs?” The man walked towards her, holding out the sack that had been over her head.

  “Ecstatic.”

  And everything went black once more. Her hands were bound again, tighter than before. The van doors slammed and a moment later the engine rumbled to life. Milly was thrown to the floor as the van screeched off into the dark.

  As the squawk of the dropped guitar died, JD raced to where Gail waited in the wings.

  She grabbed JD’s face, twisting it into the light, checking for injuries, patting him up and down. She checked each of the boys in turn, before finally returning to JD.

  “We’re all fine,” he said, taking hold of her hands. “But… Gail…” He looked down at a gash in her T-shirt. “You’re bleeding.”

  “I’m fine, it’s a scratch. What happened?”

  “Zyanya was here, and…I think she has Milly.”

  “And the blade.” Zek pointed at the empty spot by Gail’s feet.

  Gail gasped and looked around desperately. “It was here… The case was right here.”

  “The fight was just a distraction,” JD said, punching an equipment case so hard it rolled backwards. “How could we have been so stupid?”

  “It’s my fault,” Gail said. “I should have stayed with the case. I should have trusted you with the fight. But it’s done. Right now, we need to focus. Zyanya has the Blade of Shadows.”

  “And we have to get it back before sunrise tomorrow.”

  “How?” Tom said, chewing on his lip so hard he’d already drawn blood. “We have to find her…we can’t…” He couldn’t even finish.

  JD wanted to reassure him, wanted to promise that they would get Milly back whatever it took, but he didn’t even know where to begin. Zyanya had a good few minutes’ start on them. She could be anywhere.

  “Wait!” Tom said. “My phone. I gave Milly my old phone.”

  “Niv, can you track it?” JD said.

  Niv pulled his phone out and flicked through the apps. He punched the buttons and they all waited anxiously as Searching… Searching flashed across the screen. With a ping, a blue dot appeared on the map.

  “Yes!” Tom said. “She’s not far. Less than a mile away.”

  JD smiled and patted Tom on the shoulder.

  “No, wait, what’s happened?”

  The blue dot had disappeared from the screen.

  “Maybe they found the phone,” Zek said.

  “She was heading east, maybe we can work out where they were taking her,” JD said.

  “To Teocalli-Ome,” Connor said.

  “But isn’t that the same place we have to be to destroy the blade? Why would Zyanya take it there?”

  “It’s to do with the eternal struggle. Light and dark, life and death. Tezcatlipoca and Quetzalcoatl. Diaz said the temple was shared by the two gods. Tonight, it belongs to Tezcatlipoca. But after the sun rises tomorrow, it belongs to Quetzalcoatl for another fifty-two years. So tonight is her last chance.”

  “Since when did you become an expert on Aztec temples?” Zek asked, looking at Connor in surprise.

  “I downloaded Diaz’s book. It’s really fascinating. Did you know that—”

  “Enough talk, you have to go aft…” Before Gail could finish, she collapsed.

  JD caught her and helped her sit down, propped up against a speaker. Only then did he see just how deep the wound Gail had called “a scratch” was. It was bleeding fiercely.

  “You need to go to hospital.”

  Gail pressed her hand against the cut and winced. “You may be right. But you need to go after Milly.”

  “We can’t leave you,” Connor said, kneeling down beside Gail.

  “This isn’t open for discussion. Milly takes priority. Carl!” she shouted.

  One of the roadies rushed over. As soon as he saw Gail’s injury, he went pale behind his beard. “Oh, my.”

  “Call an ambulance and, oh, get the bag.”

  Carl nodded and a moment later came running back with a large black bag. JD recognized it as the bag containing their weapons. “Ambulance is going to be too long. I’m taking you.” Carl threw the bag to JD and scooped Gail up in his thick, tattooed arms as if she weighed nothing.

  “There’s a black van outside.” Gail dug a key out of her pocket and
threw it to JD. “Now, go!”

  JD watched Carl and Gail vanish backstage and then, with a look to the other boys, he ran. The other roadies began packing up, which tonight would include disposing of the bodies of the Jaguar Warriors. Carl was the best roadie they had and JD knew Gail would be safe with her. She had to be.

  He paused at the exit, waited for the others to catch up, then yanked the door open. Niv slammed it shut and grabbed him.

  Niv looked troubled. He slapped his palms together and made a clockwise twisting motion, as if squashing something.

  “He’s right,” Zek said. “We’ll get crushed out there if the fans see us.”

  JD zipped open the holdall and peered down at the collection of blades. “No masks.”

  “We don’t have time to find them,” Tom said. JD had never seen his friend so afraid. He too felt a panic he’d never come close to feeling before. He couldn’t bear to stand around talking for a second longer. It might already be too late for Milly.

  “Perhaps we need a different kind of mask,” Zek said, eyeing up a cardboard box by the door. He ripped it open, revealing a stack of Slay merchandise. He threw T-shirts and caps at each of the boys, before pulling off his own shirt and replacing it with one that said EAT, SLAY, LOVE.

  “The perfect disguise,” he said, holding his arms out. “Fans!”

  JD had to give it to Zek. No one would expect a member of Slay to actually wear a Slay tee. As long as they kept their heads down, they could just blend into the crowd. JD yanked a I SLAY T-shirt on over the one he was already wearing and threw open the door.

  They moved quickly through the people pouring out of the concert, without getting so much as an annoyed grunt from people they had to shove out of the way. In fact, it was amazing how many of their teen boy fans were dressed exactly like them, with their hair styled in the same way. Some even had tattoos drawn up their arms to match the boys’ ink. He’d have to remember this for the next time he wanted to wander the streets without being spotted.

  “There!” Connor shouted, pointing ahead at a black van parked between two of the six-wheeler trucks that had carried all their gear. It was unmarked and ready to go.