by Siegel, Alex
He took his own phone out of his pocket. Edward had given it to him that morning, and Smythe hadn't used it yet. The gray, metallic device was larger and quite a bit heavier than an ordinary phone. Edward had claimed it would work on any network in the world. High security encryption and an emergency radio beacon were built-in. Smythe had read the manual, and the list of features was very impressive. It was the kind of gear a military operator might carry.
The call would take just a minute, and a lot of good could be accomplished in that short time. Smythe ran his fingers across the buttons. Ethel wasn't watching. Considering the rewards, the risks seemed acceptable.
Still, he hesitated. There was so much about this situation he didn't fully understand. Was he about to make a terrible mistake?
"What are you doing?"
Smythe almost jumped out of his skin. Ethel was standing beside him.
He took a deep breath in a vain attempt to calm himself. "Why wh-what?" he stuttered.
"You're just holding your phone. Do you want to make a call?" She gazed at him without visible emotion.
"No." He swallowed. "I was..."
"Let me guess. You were about to tell the authorities about this carnival."
"No, ma'am!"
She rolled her eyes. "You're very lucky I stopped you."
"Lucky?"
"You still don't get it." She sighed. "God made the rules we follow, and if you violate them, you will offend Him. He expects us to be perfect soldiers who obey His instructions."
"Are you saying God will strike me down if I use my phone?" He crossed his arms defiantly.
"Do you want to find out? Go ahead."
She took a step back.
He examined his phone again. He believed she would let him make his call, although what would happen afterwards was less clear.
He turned his attention to the sky. City lights washed out most of the stars but he could still pick out a few. Was God actually watching? He didn't know the answer.
He looked at Ethel. "Do you promise we will stop the Eternals? We won't let them keep poisoning people?"
"When we have all the facts," she said, "I will decide the proper course of action."
"That wasn't my question, ma'am."
She was silent for a moment. "You have to trust me. I've been protecting humanity for a very long time. I can't even guess how many lives I've saved. I know how to do my job."
It was his turn to hesitate. He couldn't afford to make a mistake when the stakes were so high.
Finally, he put his phone away. "OK, I'll trust you." For now.
"Come on." She patted him on the shoulder. "Let's get back to the observation post. This night isn't over. I have a feeling the fun is just beginning."
Chapter Eighteen
Aaron watched the sentry like a cat watching a mouse.
"Move!" Marina muttered. "Damn it, get out of the way!"
The explosion had drawn off most of the guards, but a lone man remained directly in their path. Aaron and Marina crouched in the shadows, and until the way was clear, they were stuck.
"Fuck it." She took off running.
"No!" he said softly but it was too late. He chased after her.
She sprinted straight across the parking lot. She was fast, not nearly as fast as Ethel, of course, but Marina could still move. He had a hard time keeping pace with her.
The sentry heard her coming and turned to face her. He barely had time to squawk before she plowed into him at full speed like a human wrecking ball. Aaron heard the impact. Marina rammed her black fingernails into the man's neck, and a few seconds later he was asleep.
Aaron caught up with her. "That was... something."
"It worked, didn't it?" She stood up and straightened her clothes.
"Technically, yes."
He picked up the unconscious sentry and deposited him in the shadows beneath a semi truck. Nobody would see the body there.
Aaron and Marina found other shadows to hide in. Carnival workers were wandering everywhere, and moving without being seen was going to be a challenge. On the other hand, there was plenty of background noise, so they didn't have to worry about being very quiet.
Aaron looked around for a good place to start exploring. There were dozens of trucks, trailers, and mobile homes to choose from. The carnival was a big operation.
He spotted one trailer that looked particularly interesting. It was separated from the rest and painted black. Perforated metal screens covered all the windows.
He pointed. "Let's take a look."
He and Marina dashed from cover to cover, but the last twenty yards were open space. Reaching the trailer unseen seemed impossible.
"We need another distraction," she said.
He looked up at a panel of floodlights, which illuminated the area. "Or darkness."
"Can you knock down those lights from here?"
The lights were placed at the top of a steel truss anchored by four cables. Aaron started spitting. At this range he had a hard time hitting the narrow bars, but he kept trying. Whenever his saliva struck metal, it burned clean through. Finally, he did enough damage that the structure toppled over. The shattering bulbs flashed and sparked impressively.
It was much darker now, and the carnival workers were all looking at the destroyed light panel. Aaron and Marina ran to the black trailer.
The door was locked but his mouth was a universal key. A well placed gob of spit disintegrated the lock mechanism.
He cracked open the door and saw that the interior was very dark and quiet. "It looks like nobody is home," he whispered.
The two of them slipped inside. Aaron had no flashlight, so after making sure the door was closed, he hit the light switch. When the lights came on, he gasped.
The trailer was a medieval torture chamber. Whips, tongs, clamps, and knives hung on one wall. A wheel and a rack occupied the middle of the room. There were also bizarre mechanical contraptions made of chains, straps, and steel bars. He didn't want to imagine how they might be used.
Three cages were near the door, and one was occupied. A naked man with a black hood over his head lay on the bare metal floor. His hands and feet were tied with rope in an uncomfortable hogtie. He had bloody whip marks on his thighs.
Marina quickly reached into the cage and used her venom to put him to sleep. Then she pulled off the hood. He was a skinny, young man with short hair.
"He looks like an Eternal," she said. "I think he's being punished."
"This goes beyond punishment," Aaron said.
"They're a gang of professional assassins. Maintaining strict discipline is essential."
"Then I essentially want to kill them all. This is wrong."
They explored the torture chamber. Some of the equipment looked worn down, but everything was very clean and tidy. There wasn't a speck of dried blood or a follicle of hair anywhere.
A door led to a side chamber, which seemed to be a tiny museum of peculiar weapons. There was a sword with a thin, flexible blade like a tape measure. Aaron recognized another classic weapon as the Japanese tekko-kagi or "hand claws." These could block swords or slash an opponent. There was also a glove with a spring-loaded knife built into the wrist.
"Nice collection," Marina said. "The traditional tools of the assassin's trade."
"Nice or not, we're not learning anything useful here."
The door of the trailer opened. Aaron and Marina immediately put their backs against the wall so they wouldn't be seen from the other room. He pulled out his OTs-33, and she drew a long serrated dagger from a scabbard inside her sleeve.
"Hey!" a man called out from the other room. "What the hell?"
Aaron realized he and Marina were in a lot of trouble. He stepped into the open and put three bullets in the man's forehead with a burst of automatic fire. The suppressor reduced the noise to soft hisses and pops. Aaron ran across the room and closed the door.
Marina walked over to the body. "Beautiful shot placement."
&n
bsp; "I had to kill him before he made too much noise."
"Ethel won't be happy. She ordered us not to engage, interfere, or kill. I'm pretty sure you just did all those things."
Aaron swallowed nervously. "We'd better go."
He cracked open the door and peeked outside. The way was clear. It seemed none of the workers had heard the commotion over the noise from the carnival. Distant police sirens added to the cacophony. He and Marina ran to the nearest shadow and crouched down.
"I think we should leave," he said.
"So soon?" she said.
"If we keep wandering around, we'll have more engagements."
She made a sour face. "I hate quitting, but you're right. This was a bad idea. We should've come in here with a real plan in mind."
He heard men calling out in loud, clear voices. The carnival workers quickly gathered into groups to receive orders. The atmosphere changed from civilian in tone to military in a heartbeat.
"They must've found the unconscious sentry," Aaron said. "They know we're here."
"Hide or run?" Marina said.
The workers were forming into teams of three and fanning out in a systematic search pattern.
"Run," he answered.
He took off without waiting for her acknowledgement. They sprinted across the huge parking lot, moving directly away from the carnival. He expected to be seen, and a glance backwards confirmed that prediction. Several men were already in pursuit.
Marina ran beside Aaron. "How far are we going?"
"Until we get away," he said.
"Maybe we should fight these chumps instead."
"Two against six? Risky. Besides, Ethel told us not to engage. I won't violate her orders twice."
"Then maybe Ethel should deal with them."
"Good idea." He nodded and pushed himself to run even faster.
They turned south, towards the avenue that passed in front of the carnival. Two more pursuers joined the chase, bringing the total up to eight.
Several fire trucks and police cars were parked out front. Their flashing red and blue lights added to the general excitement. Aaron glimpsed the dumpster that had been bombed, and its walls were bowed out.
He stopped when he came to the street because it was too busy to just run across. He glanced back. His pursuers were about fifty yards back and closing fast. He and Marina had to move, so they took advantage of a brief gap in the traffic. Cars skidded and tires squealed, but they made it across unharmed.
Aaron and Marina headed towards Ethel. She would certainly see them coming from the roof of the grocery store.
"This will be interesting," Marina said.
There was a nice patch of shadows behind the grocery store, which was out of view of any possible witnesses. Aaron stopped there. Both of them took deep breaths as they tried to get their wind back.
The Eternals caught up a moment later. They drew out knives and formed a circle around Aaron and Marina.
The apparent leader of the group was a tall, muscular man with a scar over his right eye. His hair was a little longer than the others. The blade of his knife had elaborate, geometric etchings highlighted with gold leaf.
He stepped forward. "Who are you?"
Ethel approached the circle, wearing a black sweat suit with a hood. She carried an aluminum tube in each hand. Her favorite weapons were a pair of polished machetes, but she used the tubes during those rare times when she didn't want to seriously injure her opponent. She could still cause a lot of pain though.
"I'll ask the questions," she said.
Smythe followed a few paces behind her.
"You want to die, too?" the leader of the Eternals said. "Be my guest."
"What's your name?" Ethel asked.
"They call me Obsidian. It will be the last name you ever hear."
"Well, Obsidian, we need some information. If you want to avoid a large amount of trouble, you'll provide it willingly and leave peacefully. Technically, you're not my enemy, yet."
He smiled. "You're brave but stupid. There are eight of us and only four of you."
"Where are your guns?"
"Guns are a crutch for amateurs. We won't need them."
An aluminum tube lashed out and struck a man in the back of the head. He collapsed to the ground.
"What about now?" she said.
"Kill her!" Obsidian ordered.
Aaron waited until all the Eternals were moving towards Ethel. They seemed to forget about him and Marina for an instant. That was a mistake. Marina knocked out two simultaneously by driving her fingernails into their necks. Aaron kicked a man in the jaw, and that sent him to the ground just as well.
Obsidian stayed out of the fight, which left just three opponents for Ethel, not much of a challenge for her. Her tubes whistled through the air, cracking bones wherever they struck. Her adversaries' weapons were as useful to them as bouquets of flowers. Smythe seemed eager to participate, but the fight was over before he had a chance to come forward.
Obsidian started to run. Aaron drew his gun and sprayed bullets at the man's legs. Obsidian went down, bleeding but alive. Ethel walked over to him.
Three other Eternals were still conscious. Aaron kept his gun on them, but they had crippling injuries and were no threat. Marina and Smythe remained close by.
"Now that we've dispensed with the introductions," Ethel said, "we can start again. We believe you've been killing innocent people with some kind of poison or biological weapon. Is that true? Tell me about it."
Obsidian slashed at her with his knife. She smacked his wrist with a tube and sent the knife flying. He looked at his wrist, which was badly broken, and grunted. He was trying to hide his pain but tightness in his jaw betrayed him.
"It's obvious we can't have this conversation here," she said. "We'll have to find someplace more secluded." She turned to Marina. "Put them all to sleep. We're moving out."
* * *
The mausoleum was one of the biggest Smythe had ever seen. Fifteen marble coffins occupied niches in the walls. There was enough open space in the middle to conduct a modest funeral service.
Eight cheap pine coffins occupied the central space now, and the unconscious body of an Eternal lay in each one. The coffins had no lids and were arranged in a circle, allowing Ethel to see all the faces from her position in the center.
The captives' naked bodies were in poor condition. Ethel had ordered Aaron to break their elbows and knees with a sledgehammer. Yellow, nylon straps bound the captives securely. They were completely at her mercy.
"Wake them up, doctor," Ethel said.
Smythe took a deep breath. He retrieved a syringe and a bottle of adrenaline from a bag of medical supplies. He went around the room and gave each captive a quick injection. They opened their eyes a few seconds later. When they tried to move, they moaned.
As he worked, he had flashbacks to another torture session in Afghanistan, one year ago. Then, like now, he had been responsible for keeping prisoners alive while they endured excruciating pain. The conflict between his Hippocratic Oath and his sense of duty was impossible to resolve. The Eternals were mass murderers and deserved the horrors they were about to experience. But, if he participated, could he really call himself a doctor? Or was being a professional torturer his true purpose.
"Hello," Ethel said. "I suggest you just relax and listen. You can't escape, obviously."
She focused her attention on Obsidian. He stared back at her with cold hatred. If he were trying to intimidate her, it wouldn't work. It was like a rabbit trying to intimidate a lion.
"You call yourselves the Order of Eternal Night," she said, "and you celebrate death as the ultimate reward. So be it. If you answer my questions, I will grant you the gift of death. However, if you're uncooperative, your life and your suffering will continue. This is a very old mausoleum in a very old graveyard. Nobody will hear you scream."
She reached into a garbage bag and took out a brown glass bottle. She carefully unscrewed the cap.
/> "In the grave, we decay," she said. "By experiencing that process, you'll learn more about death. So, consider this an educational exercise. This bottle contains pure sulfuric acid."
She used an eyedropper to squirt acid onto the arms, legs, and abdomens of the captives. Their flesh turned brown on contact. The men gasped and groaned, but they didn't cry out.
Then she took a plastic container full of maggots from the garbage bag. Their tiny, white bodies wriggled eagerly. She went around the room and sprinkled maggots over the captives.
"Decay begets life," she said as she worked, "and these insects are an important part of that wondrous cycle. The rich sweat on your skin and the nutritious tissue in your wounds will allow the maggots to mature. Then the adult flies will lay eggs, and another generation will be born. Within a few weeks this tomb will be thick with buzzing, crawling life."
Smythe watched the captives closely. Most had wide eyes and were obviously terrified, and a few even had tears on their cheeks. Obsidian was putting on a brave show, but he kept trying to shake the maggots off his chest.
"But you must be thirsty," Ethel said. "Drink, please."
She nodded to Aaron. He picked up a five gallon bottle filled with milk, and she took a large funnel. One by one, she went to each captive and forced the funnel into his mouth. Aaron poured in liquid until the victim gagged.
"That's better, isn't it?" Ethel said. "I don't want you to get dehydrated. I hope the milk wasn't too sour. If you want more, just ask. We have plenty."
She had spiked the milk with phencyclidine and methedrine. The potent drugs would make the captives agitated, paranoid, and confused. Smythe watched for a negative reaction.
"I think we can finally begin," she said. "We know you're assassins. That isn't important to me. I'm more interested in the substance you're using to kill innocent people. Tell me about it. Who makes it? How does it work? Where did you get the formula?"
