He struggled to his feet. She backed up and opened the bedroom door.
“Before you die, you still have some work to do.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Of course you don’t, you poor demented creature.” She poked him in the back with the gun. “Keep walking, straight ahead.”
“Where are we going?”
“You’ll find out.”
He stumbled along the corridor and whined. “I don’t understand.”
Gun covered by the voluminous folds of her skirt, Miriam prodded him forward at each hesitation. Overhead, it sounded like firecrackers going off at a fourth of July picnic. At last, they arrived at the Crèche. Brother John, former pilot, eunuch, and Guardian of the Twenty-Four sat on a hard-backed chair in front of the door, a rifle across his lap.
He leaped to his feet. “Father. What is the news?”
Miriam poked her husband in the back with the handgun. “Tell him how well we’re doing.”
“It is End Days.”
The man’s face fell. “What should I do?”
Miriam spoke up. “Father needs to spend some private time with the Mothers of the Twenty Four to prepare the future generation.”
Brother John nodded and turned to unlock the door. “Sacrifices must be made.”
Zeke jerked around and stared at Miriam, his eyes wild with panic.
“Don’t worry, Father. They’re expecting you. Each of the girls has met and held the Chosen One. They adore him. They understand how important they are to God’s plan.”
Keeping one hand clenched around the pistol, she used her free hand to pull his head toward her lips.
“Time for the rooster to visit the henhouse.”
Miriam pushed him through the door and slammed it behind him. Now she had him where she wanted him. She didn’t need Zeke to dispose of Brother Aaron. She could do it herself.
“Lock the door, Brother John.”
The bald man complied and turned around.
“Give me the key.”
Frowning, he dropped it into the palm of her hand. “I don’t understand.”
“You don’t need to.”
At last her time had come.
“Don’t let Father out, no matter what he says. It’s for his own good.”
****
The solid pine door slammed behind Zeke, and he had to wait for his eyes to adjust to the gloom. It was the first time he’d ever been in the Crèche. Miriam had attended to all the details.
He took a deep breath to calm his nerves and gagged. The room smelled like a latrine. A white bucket stood in the corner with a toilet seat on top. A roll of tissue and a bag of lime sat on the floor next to it. A dozen beds jammed one against the other along one wall. Along the other wall stood a basin, and a metal pitcher. A nearby table held a stack of towels. The girls wore long white nightgowns and huddled in the back of the room, their brown eyes wide.
He raised his hands to show his palms were empty. “Hola. I’ve come to say hello.”
The largest girl spat at him and said something in Spanish. It sounded like a string of curse words, but then again, he could have been mistaken. Foreign languages had never been his forte.
He recognized the one who had turned into a demon. Daniella. She looked lovely, with that long brown hair, those beautiful teeth. Maybe Miriam was right, it was time for him to pay a conjugal visit.
“Daniella.” He crooked his finger. “Come here. Aquí.”
The teenage shook her head. The big one stepped in front of Daniella, crossed her arms over her chest, and lifted her chin.
Was that the one whose father had shown up without warning?
“Mina.” He waved her over.
She shook her head.
“You little bitch.” He strode over to her and grabbed her by the arm. “I tell you to get over here, you come.”
He threw her on a bed and she fell with her knees on the floor, her face on the blanket.
“I like you better that way.” He unbuckled his belt and dropped his trousers. He reached for her nightgown, and a chorus of screams rose, took shape and swarmed over his head.
Bats, a thousand of them, dove at him, ripping his hair, and clawing at his face.
He stumbled, and Mina rolled over onto her back.
No longer a beautiful young woman, green scales covered her skin and her fingers tapered into talons. Yellow serpentine eyes bulged out of her head, and she licked her bright red lips with a long tongue of flames.
“Not again.” He covered his face and shrieked. “Help, Brother John, let me out.”
The chorus of screams became a singsong chant. “He can’t hear you, he can’t hear you.”
Zeke fell to his knees and threw his head back in prayer. “Oh, Lord, hear my plea. I’m Daniel in the Lion’s Den.”
A hag with drooping tits and gray hair cackled. A troll with one eye in its forehead gave a low rumbling guffaw and drooled. A gray demon with black lips and nipples capered and pranced on a nearby bed. The dragon that had been Mina stood over him and showered him with green scales. The bats landed and grew larger, red eyes glowing, high-pitched shrieks bouncing off the stone walls.
He leaped to his feet, and the creatures danced around him in a circle. Wheeling slowly, he tried to gauge which one to grab first. He lunged at the smallest one, a bat with long fangs. Just as he got his hands around its neck, the shrieking grew into a deafening roar and he felt the first of many strikes to his legs, back, ribs. A large claw connected with his groin. He grabbed his balls, fell to the floor, and the world went black.
****
Alejandro zigzagged across the desert floor and pushed Angie behind a boulder. The weight of weapons, ammo, ropes, carabiners, and flashlights made the going slow, but using the ATVs was out of the question. Might as well paint big red targets on the vehicles. He keyed his walkie talkie.
“Tio? Pepe? Isabel? Anybody hear me?”
“Tio here. What’s your location?”
“Angie and I are behind an outcropping of rocks, about a quarter mile southwest of the bluff. We’re close, but no cigar.”
“Stay put. I’ll come to you. Go to radio silence. They might be listening in.”
Crap. That was an unsettling thought. If the nut jobs tuned into their frequency, they really were in trouble. He turned his walkie talkie off.
Angie gave Alejandro a tentative smile. “You okay?”
“Fine,” he lied. “You?”
“Great.” Her chin quivered, and she blinked. “Never better.”
After ditching their helmets, they both had donned black knit hats to reduce the opportunity for her father’s lookouts to identify her by her bright red hair. A few wild red strands fluttered next to her big green eyes. He reached over and tucked them back under the material.
“You look good in desert cammies. Very becoming.”
“You, too.” She sighed. “So close. I’m itching to storm the castle. Get Jake.”
He nodded. Boots scrunched nearby. Alejandro put his fingers to his lips. He looked up and relief flooded him.
“Bro, you nearly scared the crap out of me.”
Tio grinned. And raised his Glock, aiming it at Alejandro’s chest.
“Hey, man, that’s not funny.” Alejandro rose to his feet and motioned for Angie to stay put. This was no time to be fooling around. “Put the gun away.”
“You think you’re so smart.” The big man sneered. “How’s that computer gonna help you now, Bro?”
Alejandro ran through all the possibilities in his mind. Tio had been watching him ever since he showed up in Mexico. Had the thug figured out his real identity? Where had he gone wrong? Was it the satellite phone that tipped his hand? That time in the garage, Tio had looked as if he’d kill him if he even looked at him wrong. If it hadn’t been for that bottle of liquid protein spilling in his pocket, he was sure the giant would have shot him. Be cool. Stay in character. “What the hell is wrong with you?”
“How long did you thi
nk you’d get away with it?”
Alejandro shook his head. Think man, think. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Sure you do.” Tio glanced down. “Drop the gun, coke whore.”
Angie’s weapon clunked as it hit the ground. Alejandro dared not look away from the big man, had to keep eye contact. It was like playing chicken with a psycho. His heartbeat kicked up a notch, and his fingers and toes tingled. He had to stall, talk the man out of doing something stupid. “Tio, you’re like a brother to me, man.”
“Yeah, right. A big dumb one you can boss around, get ahead of. After all the years I’ve worked for that bitch, Isabel, you come waltzing in and the next thing I know, I’m just a piece of dog shit on your shoe. Not happening, bro. You see, we’re out in a battle field where anything can happen. Bullets flying all over the place, you get shot by one of those wackos, the slut is mine and I move up in the ranks.” He grinned. “It’s all good. Now, just back up a little, cuz I don’t want no blood on me—”
There was a popping sound.
Tio’s mouth dropped open in an “o” of surprise and he fell face down in the dirt. The back of his head oozed bright red blood.
Isabel stood a short distance away in a shooter stance. She nodded at Alejandro. “No one calls me a bitch.”
She slid her .25 caliber automatic back into her pocket, walked over to Angie and helped her stand. “You okay?”
Gulping hard, Angie nodded.
Alejandro had never been so happy to see the head of a drug cartel in his life. He wanted to kiss her, but restrained himself. “How’d you know?”
“I didn’t like it when he told you to go to radio silence.” She pulled off her knit cap and fluffed her long black hair. “You were in charge of this operation, not him. I had a bad feeling.”
Alejandro glanced down. A phone stuck out of the dead man’s back pocket. “No cell towers out here. Why would he bring this with him?”
“Let me see.” Isabel tapped the screen. “He wasn’t just jealous.” She held the phone up and showed him the recent phone calls, all with out of country area codes. “Looks like Tio was working for the Colombians. I bet he thought he was going to take over my operation, be a big drug kingpin.” She kicked the corpse with the metal tip of her boot. “Asshole.”
A horrible thought occurred to Alejandro. “What about his brother, Pepe?”
“Pepe’s not really related to Tio.”
He scrambled through his mental files trying to play connect the dots. Who was playing for whom? It was a bit like trying to figure out who was going to win the Super bowl without knowing all the players. “That doesn’t mean he wasn’t in on this with him. Aren’t you worried he’ll be the next one to try to take over?”
She shook her head. “Not at all. Pepe’s my younger brother.”
Before he could process this tidbit, Alejandro’s walkie talkie crackled and Pepe spoke.
“Isabel? Alejandro? Tio? If you can read me, please respond.”
Gunfire burst in the background.
“Soon would be good. We got a situation here. The scouts won’t take us into the tunnels. They say they’re haunted.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
Zeke woke up with a pounding headache and blinked at a painfully bright light. He must have had another hellish vision. He blinked and looked into Brother John’s worried face.
“Thank the Lord, you’re okay.”
Tears ran down the Guardian’s cheeks. He had scratches and bruises all over his face and neck.
What the hell had happened to him?
“I got you out of there just in time. Those beasts were about to smother you with a pillow.”
Beasts. Someone else had seen them. He grasped his follower’s arm.
“You saw them?”
“Oh, yes, they were a bunch of harpies, kicking you and screaming.”
“A dragon. Did you see the dragon?”
John looked confused and shook his head.
“What about the demon with the hooked tail? No? Surely you saw the troll? The hag? No?” Not again. He released John’s arm. “Where’s my wife?”
“I don’t know. She left and took the key to the Crèche. I had a spare.” Brother John’s eyes went wide. “She said it was for your own good, but I couldn’t stand the screaming. Please forgive me.”
Forgive him? Zeke wanted to hug him.
“You did the right thing.” He shuddered and recalled the vile room. “John, why don’t the girls have running water and a toilet?”
The other man’s eyes widened.
“Your wife’s orders. Said they were brood mares, belonged in a stable.”
His visions for the Mothers of the Twenty-Four had never included filth. In his dreams, they were all willing, wanton virgins waiting anxiously to serve him. He should have been more involved. Over time, they would have learned to love Edmondsville. Miriam had ruined everything.
“How long was I in there?”
“Twenty or thirty minutes?”
His wife couldn’t have gotten far. He had to find her before she did anything else crazy.
****
Angie held her breath and raced behind Alejandro and Isabel during a lull in the gunfire. A crowd of natives and cartel foot soldiers squatted at the base of the bluff. The once jovial Julio stood with folded arms and a stony stare. The other Tarahumarans refused to make eye contact with Angie or Isabel. They would speak only with Alejandro, and only because Sister Teresa had told them to listen to him.
Alejandro nodded to the group then spoke directly to Julio. “What happened?”
After some awkward moments, followed by a volley of conversation back and forth, Alejandro shook his head and returned to Angie’s side.
“He says there are three ghosts in there. Mina’s father and the two dead scouts warned them to stay out of the tunnels, that it was too dangerous.” He threw his hands up. “They were our only hope of going in through the back door.”
Angie frowned. “Where did they see the ghosts?”
“That tunnel, over there. They won’t go back in.”
The natives had told them the tunnels were the quickest route to the compound and her son. She wasn’t about to give up this easily. “That doesn’t mean we can’t.”
Alejandro and Isabel exchanged glances.
“Angie—” he started.
“No. It’s not your son. Either of you. And it’s not their son. It’s my son. You said yourself the only other way was up the side of the mountain. With people shooting down at us.” She turned on her heel. “You can stay here if you want, but I’m going.”
“Angie—” Alejandro called after her.
Tears stung her eyes. She hadn’t come all this way just to give up. She turned on her miner’s headlight and walked into a long, dark tunnel. After twenty steps, a fetid miasma enveloped her. She stopped, covered her face with her knit cap and turned to go back. She’d heard of underground methane leaks. She had no desire to be gassed to death. That must have been what the Tarahumarans smelled. Fine. She’d leave, but there was nothing supernatural about a pocket of gas. Her light flickered, then went out. Crap. She hated being in the dark. Something dripped on her head. She jerked, slipped and fell onto a pile of rags. What the hell? Was this some kind of garbage dump? Suddenly her light came back on.
****
Alejandro stroked his beard. Why was Angie so stubborn? Couldn’t she see how upset the Tarahumarans were when she went into the tunnel? There had to be a way to get to the top of the fortress without spending all day climbing up the rock wall. Thinking back to the satellite maps, he tried to recall all the possible approaches and came up empty. Isabel stood off to the side speaking in low tones with Pepe. Her younger brother. Why hadn’t that been in any of his intelligence reports? Where had he been all these years? Had he really been in the Mexican military or had he been in a safe house in another country?
He cocked his head and listened closely. The birds were singing. O
dd. Had the shooting stopped? Come to think of it, he hadn’t heard any gunfire since Angie headed into the tunnel, at least fifteen minutes. He’d better see what was happening with her. Maybe she had found a way in. Wouldn’t that be a kick in the ass?
Alejandro turned to tell Isabel where he was going when an eagle dropped out of the sky, grabbed a rabbit and flew off. Had he been any closer, he could have reached out and grabbed the bird’s tail feathers.
“Holy crap. Did you guys see that?”
Then it hit him. They needed an eagle. A big one to snatch their rabbit. He huddled with Isabel and Pepe, told them his plan. Then, over Julio’s shouted protests, he started jogging toward the tunnel to tell Angie the good news. She, of all the people on this mission, needed to know there was a faster approach. She’d be so happy, he just knew it. They’d be in and out and Jake would be safe, along with the Tarahumaran girls. She wouldn’t believe her good luck.
Just as he set foot inside the passageway, Angie slammed into him and shouted, “Dead. They’re all dead.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
Miriam tiptoed past the snoring Sister Rose, snatched up the sleeping child, and speed walked to the great room. She was sick and tired of this charade. She was in charge. Not that old goat and not Brother Aaron.
Jake whined and wriggled in her arms. She re-adjusted him on her hip. This “baby” was getting big enough to do his own walking. She was tired of waiting on everyone, being the slave, the go-getter and the whipping boy for Zeke. Tired of being dismissed because she was a woman. So what if she’d only had an eighth grade education. That didn’t mean she was stupid. Oh contrary, as Zeke would say.
Her extensive street education had included picking pockets while Zeke held them spellbound, and helping people look for the thief when they discovered their losses. She’d never been suspected by the victims or the police as the real crook. Zeke on the other hand, with wild eyes and red hair had been pulled into countless interrogation rooms. Not once had the cops been able to prove a thing, all because his innocent-looking wife had hidden the goods. They’d saved up enough to move to the Eastern Shore and work on an ingenious long con.
Preacher and his wife.
Obsession Page 21
