by Josh Law
Over the din of rocket launchers barely missing the two-wheel gliding bus, she heard her phone ringing. Her stomach did a belly flop and she ripped it out of her jean’s pocket with one finger throat closing when she recognized the music as Nicky’s ringtone.
“Baby, is that you?” She felt tears pour down her face. It was an obvious question, but this was too good to be true.
“Mom, I need you to listen very closely to what I’m about to tell you.” Nick began before running the whole plan by her in a fraction of the time it had taken to form it.
“The guy that’s coming for you looks like something from a Western horror flick. But believe me, he’s on our side. You’ll know him and his guys when you see them. Get to them and do whatever he tells you.” Nick was out of breath. There was a lot of static behind him as people moved to follow the Death Angel’s instructions.
“What? This is suicide, son!” Marilyn forced her knuckles into her teeth to keep from vomiting.
“I know...But it’s take this risk and maybe die, or give in to Ashe and die for sure. We don’t have a third option, I’m afraid.”
There in the midst of the flaming bus chase, Marilyn had an epiphany. Her parenthood had been a fast-tracked experience. She wanted to love the baby she had given up for adoption 18 years ago, but that baby had become a man. A courageous one at that, facing giants that the everyday kids feared from bedtime stories. She was going to have to let him walk that road, no matter how hard it was. She would have to be in his corner and back him up. Their lives depended on it.
“Okay, you can trust me. I love you.”
It was the first time in his life that she’d told him. The very first time she’d ever said it to another soul where it was more than words.
“I love you too, Mom. I’ll see you soon.”
She had a sinking feeling as he hung up that he didn’t believe his own words.
Chapter 13:
Alex held his breath. Even this best solution of the Death Angel’s boys was extremely painful. It wasn’t so bad at first. After 10 minutes of hanging from a truck’s chassis, turned on its side by two long chains looped through two separate sets of handcuffs, with his full-weight on his wrists, his back was splitting with excruciating pain. He felt muscles tearing slowly and blood welling from small contusions. He might as well have been flogged.
He tried not to look down. Below him was a sewage tank the gangsters had stolen from a plumber’s back stock. It was surrounded by many sand castles here on the Acapulco beachside, each one serving as a tray for a hemorrhaging car battery that Peyo was bleeding out with a chainsaw’s tiny incision. The tank was already 75% percent of the way filled with battery acid. Cipriano was a firm believer in theatrics. If he could convince the mercenaries that he had one of them in his trap and that escape was impossible, he could lure them in for bargains.
Spread-eagled for the whole world to see, which included news crews and terrified tourists by now he had no doubt Alex felt like a bug under a microscope. Like his soul had been stripped of walls to show the gears that made up the entire machine of his entity. There would be no hiding from the millions of eyes that looked to him. The only privacy he would feel in this naked moment would be the darkness of his mind with his eyes tightly closed.
He had been oblivious to its power. Here before the ocean and Sky, he could see the truth for miles. His whole soul was flooding with the power of it. It physically throbbed in his jaws and he tried to swallow it down, but there was no swallowing it down. There was no suppression for its force.
The love for his brother and his family was a catalyst that had shifted the foundation of the World. Alex realized that today would change history. The world would never be the same. At the end of this chapter of time, this is how he would be remembered. Dangled like a worm before a thousand ravenous birds, his sacrifice would teach a generation of materialistic scrambling the only value that carried through Life into Hereafter. If Ashe had known that deep truth, then perhaps she would not have dealt with the Devil to the loss of her soul.
It was love that conquered evil. Love redefined. While the word was generally thought of as a warm and fuzzy feeling of safeness, Alex understood it to be a volatile defense that was unwilling to let go of what it owned. That is how he had loved his brother. That is how his brother had loved him. They would die in that knowledge if they had to and their blood would be painted over the cameras of every newscast the world over. The citizens of this Earth would learn that day to protect their families from corrupted motions of authorities. By his example, no matter how brutal it might end, Alex Prescott would show the world that never again could a thing like the Prescott Project be allowed to happen. This is what had come from it.
“I’m not gonna drop you into the juice, ‘mano. Promise.” Peyo looked sympathetically on at Alex’s struggle.
“Hey, thanks. Listen…Can you listen for a second?”
The boy took a puff from a cigarette and pressed closer like Alex was telling a secret.
“If…If this…if it goes bad. If we don’t make it, my brother and me…I want you to take this…” He reached down with his teeth and pulled a small dog tag out of his shirt pocket. Peyo reached up and took it in a shaking hand.
Alex huffed.
“Make sure my home mother gets it. Then take my shoes.”
“Why? This crap will burn you just with its vapors?”
“I know. But see, as stupid as it might sound, these are actually my brother’s shoes. I just borrowed them. I want our moms to get them in case somehow I fall into enemy hands. God only knows where my body will wind up in the end. Hell, they might process it and drink it like protein powder for all I know. I’ve seen these psychos before. Just, humor me, man. I want to be buried with my brother in essence, even if it’s only one of his things or something. I think maybe it will help my spirit find him on the other side.” Alex cut Peyo a pleading look. Peyo swallowed and nodded, reaching to pluck the fancy AJs from Alex’s feet.
Alex winced as the vapor began to blister his heels. Peyo held his breath. He was new at this game. The Boss was his uncle and he only got involved in everything because Cipriano had insisted that was the way to keep him safe. He’d never been given a job like this. He’d never been so close to the technically damned before. If this kid died, it would haunt him forever.
There was the sound of shredding steel in the background. They both snapped to attention. An old Greyhound was rolling across the sand like a baker’s pin with fleets of motorcyclists and sports cars surrounding it.
Cipriano rode up to the scene on the back of his chopper. He leaped into the dirt and trained the Jericho into the fray, aiming a single shot. They couldn’t see the target from here, but whatever it had hit was enough to draw the attention of everyone involved.
“Anahi!” His voice echoed off the metallic debris of the bus and sent chills through the spine of Mexico.
Out of the smoke, the Devil’s Swan strode. She had a pair of rapiers and tossed one to the Death Angel.
“Oh God. I’m sure there hasn’t been a battle like this since the conquistadors, eh, Alex?” Peyo turned around. Alex was staring into the distance, jaw dropped, trying to reign himself in but visibly petrified. Peyo spun on his heel to look out over the sea. Countless ships were closing in.
“Might want to make yourselves scarce!” Alex shouted over his shoulder to his guards that were spread in a thin line across the shore surrounding him.
“We’re not gonna leave you, Niño.” One of the older men loaded a pump action shotgun. Come what may the Death Angel’s boys would stand their ground.
Chapter 14:
She was carried in an old sedan chair directly across the beach like a Hindi goddess. The curtains were dyed a deep crimson purple with the blood of her sacrifices. From the chassis she’d hung many shrunken heads that had belonged to the disappeared, wicks shoved down their throats, their skulls shooting flames out the top.
Bacardi shrank to Ni
ck’s side. The Convention had come when Cipriano had called. Ashe was ready to bargain now.
The curtain drew back. There she sat her eyes of nightmare green dancing with malice. She was naked, or rather she was dressed in snakes. They swarmed her couch by the 10s. There was very possibly as many as 100 in the bed with her.
Nicolas stepped forward, his mouth a tight white line. She giggled melodically.
“Hiya, Nicolas. I’ve been waiting for you…Where’s your brother?”
Nick smiled smugly.
“Around…He said he’d show later after you and I talked terms?”
She threw back her head and cackled.
“Mm, baby! You don’t think I know what you’re doing? As admirable as it is, I think I’ll honor your wish. Your mother and home mother can live unharmed. Your brothers and sisters can live, including Alex. See, I don’t need to sacrifice him with you now. You’ve brought the pair to your sacrifice.” She looked with withering eyes at Bacardi. Nick looked back, eyes popped, reached and pushed her back protectively to his chest. Bacardi could feel his arms quaking. Their best laid plans had folded like a house of cards before their eyes with just one look from the Practitioner.
“That’s a load of BS! You’re supposed to sacrifice me with one of my siblings, right? This is the Devil Swan’s daughter, genius!” Nick had forgotten to show feigned respect to the religious leader in his frustration.
“Not exactly. Thank you, I am a genius. I also keep careful tabs on all of my clients and associates. I do run a ministry after all. She is the Devil’s Swan’s daughter, yes. She’s also the daughter of Tanaka Yoshi the half Japanese, half American breakout IT entrepreneur from Los Angeles, California. Tanaka Yoshi is the son of Tanaka Mikoto and Army Prescott, his very first love from even before his Armed Service days when he lived with his businessman dad as a 16-year-old punk. Mikoto found out about the Project like 22 years ago when it started and moved her son back to her native Japan. Just because he wasn’t one of your dad’s test tube babies or adorable lab rats doesn’t make him any less your brother, or his offspring any less seasoned in Prescott’s life-prolonging curse. Crazy, right? She’s your niece. So she can work for a sacrifice in a pinch. Now, let’s talk terms.”
Nick spun Bacardi around in his arms, studying her face intently. He’d turned the color of chalk and she could swear his lips were green. She held her breath, amazed by his evergreen eyes. There she saw for the first time true concern for her safety reflected.
“She’s just a little girl…” He shook his head. There was no way he could go through with his. She burst into tears, but not out of fear.
“Nick, listen to me! I-This news is huge…For the first time, I- I have a family. We have a family…If we go through with…whatever this is…we can save them. I don’t have anything to lose by doing this. I wanted out of the life. I even thought about ending it a few times. It’s okay…We have to save your brothers and sisters and moms.” She nodded, amazed by herself. If somebody told her a few days ago that she’d have to sacrifice herself to rescue a bunch of foster kids she’d never even met she’d have horse laughed them and poured Scotch down their nose. After these boys, everything had changed. She’d never felt love, never understood what it was. Until she watched them in action. Until they’d sacrificed themselves for their sister in Durango. When they’d talked going to bargain with Ashe. When they’d fought for each other in San Agustin Buenavista. In such a short time, they’d taught her what love and family meant. Finally understanding, it had brought her to her knees.
She turned around, swallowing hard.
“You’re not just talking smack, right, lady? You’re going to honor your word, right?”
“My word is my bond and my sacrifices must be pure. You will appease the spirits because you have some of Army Prescott’s blood just like those other kids. Everything is in place. Trust me.” She nodded with a sick smile and held out a hand.
“Not until you show us a sign. Send some of your guys to put a stop to the Devil’s Swan. In case you haven’t noticed, she’s lit half of Mexico up like a ferolito!” Nick spat in the sand. Ashe laughed and shook her head.
“So much spirit in you, Nicolas. No wonder you managed to climb back out of Hell.”
“I hate to tell you this Lady, but I never was in Hell. There’s a Highway you have to head down first, in case you’ve never paid attention to AC/DC lyrics. You don’t even need me to figure out how to get there. Your soul is a GPS guiding you there!”
“Tell you what. I’ll do everything you’ve asked. As a bonus, I’ll send for someone to rescue your brother from whatever ridiculous plan Cipriano has cooked up. I’ll never bother your family again. They just needed to know that they couldn’t keep you. It isn’t fair to every other soul out there who’s had to bury a kid they loved. In keeping with the natural order, you will die. This girl will die and it will be better for her than going back to the life she was running away from. Everybody has a Happy-Ever-After, right?”
Two of Ashe’s men came forward and tied Nick and Bacardi’s hands.
They exchanged a glance, with reasonable doubt that what she said was true. They had done what they could. They only hoped that in the end it would be enough.
Chapter 15:
Marilyn awoke to find Chance swimming through shattered glass, roasting upholstery and melting steel of the wrecked and burning bus.
She breathed ebony smoke out her nostrils and took the arm he stretched out to her. His face was pinched with extreme pain and she knew that he’d seriously injured himself for her sake. She felt the urge to sob well up in the back of her throat and then he was hauling her into the sand.
They landed on hands and knees coughing and vomiting the vile chemicals. Renee already stood there, swinging a huge piece of the bus’s frame into the faces and bodies of seven rabid pit bulls. Fight dogs lay in heaps where she had broken their skulls, exhausting all the strength she had and then some.
Marilyn held her breath. Renee reminded her of a dying tiger. Her golden blonde hair had been burned halfway off and she’d had to reach up and cut it in ragged strips around her chin to keep the fire from spreading to her scalp and face. Her jeans were halfway shredded from her legs by the obviously strung out manic fight dogs. Blood pooled around her ankles. Her tall frame was halfway bowed over and her silver-blue eyes looked red from all the smoke. She spun teeth gritted and faced Marilyn.
“Make tracks you two. I can hold off Hell for a while. The mercenaries have Alex and the Practitioner has Nicky!” She nodded over her shoulder. Marilyn and Chance spun around in unison to see the chaos.
There on the beach about a fifth of a mile from the bus wreck Ashe had confiscated a stage that had been set up for a few local bands behind a beachside cantina. In the center of it, she’d erected two massive bamboo totem poles. Nick was tied to the top of one. A small girl was tied to the other. Around their feet were stacked thousands of small golden bills. Two of her thugs were dousing them in gas. Ashe stood center stage, clothed now in a long baby blue robe and holding a torch high like she was the Statue of Liberty. She was making some kind of speech that they couldn’t hear from this distance.
Marilyn would have charged into the fray right then out of thoughtless fury, but then she saw the audience. The Prescott mercenaries had abandoned Anahi and her personal hires, which amounted to about five trusted guys. These encircled a man that looked like he had climbed out of Hell, each of them brandishing bright rapiers. Anahi stood at the forefront of the fight. She moved with the precision of a lazar, and even the peerless Cipriano fumbled at her advance.
“I won’t leave you alone for this!” Chance was shaking in his shoes at the sight of his sister standing against the Hounds of Hell.
“Oh, to Hell with me! Go get my son!” Renee’s face twisted in surprise at herself. She had never verbally claimed Alex as her own. For the first time she had. Chance nodded. It was impossible, but it was probably his sister’s last request.
> Chance grappled Marilyn for a second.
“We’re going to need some help from higher places. Like God and the U.S. Army. Aren’t you supposed to be at court? Think it’s high time you explain your absence.” He nodded. Marilyn’s mouth opened and closed, but she didn’t have time to answer. The Harley Bomb Runner that the police department had given the boys came rolling up in the sand just then, Chief Riggs seated proudly on it.
“No, I think Ms. Avalon should probably go pick her boy up from school. I’ve got the U.S. Army part of it covered.” Riggs swaggered down with a smug smile. He was dressed in plain clothes and had a police walkie in his free hand.
“Caught up with Sparrow, copy? Sending coordinates. The entire Spanish Armada decided to show up for this party too, gentlemen. Get me some air cover while you’re at it.” He spoke into the radio around a painfully broad smile.
“What the Hell?!” Marilyn and Chance spoke in unison.
“What, so you guys are the only ones that can charge off to Mexico in the pursuit of justice? When you and Renee cleared town to go after the kids, I was heavily investigating the Devil’s Swan’s crimes. I got leads from all over Durango. After the Zombie Apocalypse your boy started everybody’s a police tipster. I set out to contact the U.S. Marshals, the Feds, the Fire Department, and anybody that would listen. I left the care and the keeping of Durango in my deputy’s capable hands and set out with Federal police in your dusty bread crumb and pyrotechnics trail. Then the Mexican Border Patrol got involved. FYI, they are serious PO’ed with y’all about a particular gate that the Swan decided to fry.” He smiled and motioned them on. Planes and helicopters began to swoop down from the sky.
