Haunted Blood

by Elik Katzav

  So Eldad is not after a cure for himself, he is trying to turn into a God in his own right!

  Eldad and Yuval are watching the quivering statue. They both seem to be in some kind of trance.

  Now’s my chance.

  The statue’s glow—halo, more like—is being slowly drained into the knife, which is now as radiant as the sun.

  I come out from behind the boulder and shoot at Yuval, but I aim too poorly to hit.

  That was close though.

  Yuval turns towards me immediately after I miss him, but before he gets a chance to fire back, I hold my Glock in both hands and exhale as I pull the trigger. One, two, three shots hit him in the chest and he falls back, hands waving, and crashes near the statue.

  Eldad raises both arms and turns to face me. “I give up.” He never stops smiling.

  - You do realize I am no longer a cop? This whole ‘arrest me’ bit is no longer working.

  My body is aching badly all over, but I try to keep an upright position and get closer to Eldad.

  The bright, blueish-white energy around the statue of Dagon is beginning to fade as it fills the knife with its glow.

  “Well? Are you saying you are going to shoot me?”

  Why is he still smiling?

  “What’s your price, David? You name it! How much shall I offer you in exchange for turning away and leaving?”

  Eldad is looking sideways. “Adam was supposed to receive ten million dollars in exchange for recreating the process he had used to cure his daughter,” he kicks the body at his feet. “He doesn’t seem to need the money any longer. Are ten million bucks going to be enough for you?”

  I look to my right.

  “Ah, those kids. Well, you see, I am not sure I can just let them go. At least one of them may have heard or even seen something they were not supposed to. They might testify that I took part in this pagan ritual, or that I am in Israel, for that matter,” he drops both hands sideways. “After all, I am in France.”

  The glow around the statue of Dagon suddenly stops. The statue itself screeches and then bursts into countless stone smithereens.

  Taking advantage of my momentary distraction, Eldad picks up his own gun, which was resting by the statue all this time, and fires at me.

  He isn’t experienced enough to hit on the first try. His second shot is also a miss, but his third shot hits me in the shoulder.

  Stronger than Nadav’s punch.

  The shot knocks me over to the ground. I fall forwards.

  When I turn onto my back I see Eldad standing over me. He’s on the platform where the statue just stood.

  “And now,” Eldad says, holding the knife, which is now glistening with a golden blue glow from tip to handle, just like a ray of sun, “Now I am about to receive the power of the Gods!” He plunges the knife into his own chest.

  He immediately falls to his knees as his own body begins to glow with that same golden blue light, the energy beginning to flow from the blade into him. Eldad’s eyes begin to turn bright with all the light emanating from inside him, from behind his eyes. He opens his mouth, as if to shout out, but all that’s coming out is bright white light.

  I feel the ground with my left arm and find my fallen gun. I aim in one hand and shoot. My first shot misses, but the second hits the knife, shattering the blade, leaving it stuck: one part remaining in Eldad’s chest, the other blown out of his hand.

  I make another effort to stand on my own two feet, but all I manage to do is drag myself over to the platform, my gun in one hand as I aim, my hand so heavy, towards Eldad, whose light is fading. Up close, he is crying, his eyes fixed on the darkness before us both.

  “So much, so little time… Why? Why didn’t you let me finish-?”

  I raise my gun and aim at him, but some train hits me from the right, blowing me across the ground again. I drop the gun yet again.

  Next thing I know, Yuval is bending over me.

  He’s all over me. Why is he hitting me like that?

  Yuval is sitting on top of me and throwing punches at either side of my torso as well as my stomach and chest. As much as I try to hit back, I keep hitting something hard.

  Bullet proof vest. I knew it. Should have guessed he’d be wearing one.

  Then, he leans forward and tries to strangle me. I try to hit his hands with my left arm. Running out of air, I feel across the ground with my hand, but his image is beginning to blur.

  Need something heavy.

  I instinctively grab on to something hard and hit Yuval over the head once or twice.

  He eventually lets me go and falls next to me. The air returns to my lungs. I drop the rock. No longer out of breath, I look around, only to see Yuval’s blood on the large stone I just used. I try to sit up and lean on my elbows.

  Now, where’s that gun?

  I can barely see anything, with all the blood and sweat in my eyes. Before I get a chance to wipe my face, Yuval rises back up, swings his arm and stabs me in the chest with a beam of light. One stab in the center of my chest is all it takes to knock me right out. I immediately fall on my back, feeling my blood gushing.

  My life force is leaving me… Why does my chest feel like it’s on fire? What’s this flashlight doing in the middle of my chest?

  Yuval tries to climb on top of me again and pull the shard of the shell out of my chest, but it would seem the shell has a mind of its own: it won’t have it. The shard will not budge. I feel delicate strands of energy flowing in from the shell into the hole in my chest, stroking me, filling me with warmth and euphoria. I am practically floating on these blue waters, which, in turn flow into me, fill me, and become a part of me. I can see through my eyes. I mean, I can see, but I can also see beyond: it’s like being able to see in the dark using a mountain of flashlights.

  Yuval returns.

  Hey, Yuval, what’s going on? What have you got there? What have you brought me? We don’t need guns anymore.

  The sharp pain that runs right through me is a rude awakening. I hear a shot, then another, and another. Ten more. I can hear and feel each of them. Yuval has emptied an entire magazine right into me. The light is gone. All that is left is the pain, but it is washing away. I no longer feel pain. It is leaking out of me, flowing out of the holes the bullets made right through me.

  Those blue strands from before, they are like fingers that keep playing with me. Now they are attempting to feel where the bullet holes are, to contain the injuries. But it is too late already.

  I have to sleep now. I can no longer keep my eyes open. Let me just close them for a second. The blessed darkness. My eyes were beginning to hurt with all that light. I can’t stay awake for much longer. Just let me sleep. Only a little. Perhaps I shall wake later. Maybe.

  Chapter 35

  My vision is getting blurry. I can see Yuval’s back as I close my eyes. He’s still there when I reopen them. He’s picking up a large sack and loading it on his shoulder.

  That’s no sack. It’s Eldad. Hey, guys, I am still here! Where are you going? Don’t leave me behind!

  My eyes close again.

  What’s this light? I’m supposed to follow it? It’s right inside my eyes. So I should go into the light? Just like that? Is that the end of the line for me? So soon? I barely got a chance to do anything… I am sure there is someone I can speak to about this. Seems excessive, to leave at such an early stage. I didn’t bring Idan back. I did promise his parents I would. I cannot go towards the light. What’s that sound? Is that some light at the end of the tunnel or a train? Like a subway? What’s with all this noise? Where’s the light going? Why do I have to chase the light? Why is it so dusty? Where did all this dust come from? Hey, here are those poles. Idan is still here. I can still bring him back to his parents! Or am I supposed to take him with me to the light? At least there is no pain anymore. Not even as I stand.
>
  The light reappears behind me as I move closer towards the three kids.

  - Idan, hold on. I am going to set you free. You’ll be coming back with me.

  I cut him loose. He is still alive.

  How am I supposed to take him into the light if he is still alive?

  A man in a suit with all sorts of spots is coming out of the light and gets closer.

  They came for me.

  He is joined by another figure.

  ‘Some delegation’.

  “Leave the kid,” the figure calls out to me. It’s very noisy, but I can still hear it. “Drop the boy and fall to the ground. Hands behind your head.”

  A helicopter. I wonder how it got here.

  I nod. The sound of the helicopter seems to be fading. I lay Idan on the ground and lay down next to him.

  The man draws closer. I can see he’s in battle fatigues. He lays his knee on top of my back, right at the center, to hold me tight. I feel the handcuffs fastening on my wrists. He then gets up and props me up to an upright position. In the meantime, the second figure goes over to check up on the kids.

  -They stabbed them in the chest. They tried to sacrifice them to Dagon. They each have a puncture wound where they tried to suck the life force right out of them.

  My throat is very sore. Much to my surprise, I feel terribly thirsty, like I’ve had nothing to drink for an entire week.

  -They are still alive, although they’ve lost a lot of blood. They need urgent medical attention.

  The figure in uniform who is standing behind me pulls my wallet out of my jeans back pocket.

  It’s a wonder I didn’t lose it sliding all over this desert.

  He takes my card and shows it to the other figure.

  “Are you a private investigator?”

  - Yes. I came here in search of Idan. Now that I have him, may I take him back to his parents?

  I nod towards the boy the other figure is tending to.

  They take the kids off the poles they were tied to all this time. The other figure is a woman. I can tell for sure now. She is beginning to tend to them as well.

  “What about the others?” the man asks me, pointing to where the statue used to stand.

  - They shot them. They shot them all. They were chanting and then they shot them. Just a few moments ago. What time is it, anyhow?

  I attempt to raise my arm and get a glimpse of the time, forgetting my hands are still in cuffs.

  “It’s nearly half past four. The sun is going to come up soon.”

  To which I shake my head and frown.

  - That can’t be. It wasn’t even nine o’clock when I got here.

  So much time has passed?

  As if to corroborate what he had said, more and more light is beginning to come up from the east. Red rays, climbing slowly, before the sun itself appears.

  The guy comes back from a quick round he made. He’s speaking quietly into an ear piece, raises his head to look at me and returns to his conversation.

  Looks like he’s talking to thin air.

  I hear some noise coming from the south, over the edge of the hill. Brakes screeching and people coming, still carrying torches despite the sun coming up.

  Then, I see a group of police agents and officers, some in uniform and some in civilian clothes. A uniformed figure dishes out orders and they all spread out through the scene going about their duties, doing as they are told.

  Two police officers come running to us, carrying first aid kits with them. They begin tending to the kids next to me. Then, as they take a peek at me, they notice I’m sitting on my knees with handcuffs on.

  In the meantime, the guy with the ear piece gets through with his conversation and walks over to the person in police uniform giving orders on top of the hill. They have words and look in my direction. Then, I hear another car pulling up behind them, with two people in civilian clothes climbing the hill to join them. I can feel the sun coming up behind me. It warms me up, its rays caress me. I am filled with a sense of energy.

  The desert is going to get very hot. With low humidity, the dry air will wick all sweat away. The reservoirs are nearly gone. This summer has hurt all living creatures out here. Vegetation, what little of it there is, has barely survived. This summer has to end soon.

  I nod at the sound of these thoughts. It’s a voice I am just beginning to take notice of. I take a deep breath and get a grip, refocusing my attention on the here and now.

  I notice that these two figures of authority are arguing. The man who had me in cuffs is pointing in my direction. A woman’s figure is breaking away from the crowd. Her hair is blowing in the wind as she comes down from the hill, closing the gap between us.

  - Na’ama.

  I smile as she draws near quickly.

  - You got my email and found me in the desert.

  Her face is stiff.

  “Do not speak. Whatever you say might incriminate you,” she tells me as she gets closer.

  She uncuffs me and helps me to my feet. The medics tending to the kids next to me raise their heads for a moment to watch her, only to resume their work in silence.

  I hear some shouting from the direction of the hill. The man who cuffed me is looking displeased, to say the least.

  “Why are you setting my prisoner free?” he growls at Na’ama.

  “What are you charging him with?”

  He gestures with his arm at the entire scene. “All this: mass murder and a pagan ritual. I have plenty to choose from.”

  - I didn’t kill anyone. I did fire at a few people, but I am sure I did not… well, hang on, the guy with the rock on top of him-

  I reply instinctively, but Na’ama puts her hand on my chest and cuts me short.

  “Whether this is a murder case at all is up to the police to determine. This whole thing is under police jurisdiction, not the security forces.”

  “We were the first to arrive on the scene. It is under our purview.”

  “And how did you come by the information that led you here? Did you by any chance monitor our comms? Or did you just happen to stumble on one of our emails?”

  “It doesn’t matter how we got here,” he cuts her off rudely and adds angrily “This is our theater of operations and this is our suspect.”

  “Hardly,” Na’ama retorts. “This suspect is currently under police custody. Kindly send us the proper forms so that you may be able to interrogate him, under our supervision, of course.”

  - That’s quite a speech, Na’ama. Well done.

  They both turn to face me.

  “What’s the matter with you, Maharani, sun stroke? I told you to shut it, so why don’t you just-”

  A chopper is about to land.

  The man doesn’t reply to either of us. Livid, he picks up his cell phone and begins to dial. Then, he proceeds to step further away from us, over the noise of the helicopter.

  Right after it lands over the hill, two medics show up with stretchers. They begin stabilizing the kids and preparing them for the evacuation. When they begin tending to Idan, I turn to Na’ama.

  - I am going with him.

  “No you’re not. I cannot let you go. You’re a suspect, uhm, witness, the only eyewitness to everything that went down here.”

  - I have already been through way too much to find him. I am not letting him go without me.

  I lay my hand on his gurney. The medics look at me, then at Na’ama.

  “Don’t worry. You’ve done your bit. You saved him. All three of them. He is in good hands now. Let them do their job.”

  She pulls my hand off the stretcher. I look on as the medics take Idan and disappear over the hill.

  The other medics who tend to the injured kids gather their equipment. One of them walks up to me and begins to examine me and my torn, blood stained cl
othes.

  “You’re injured. Do you require medical attention?” He starts removing what’s left of my shirt to find the source of the bleeding.

  - Yes.

  It’s beginning to come back to me.

  - I chafed my legs.

  Looking at me torn jeans, the pain and the sensation of blood dripping from my wounds floods me again.

  He helps me sit down and proceeds to cut my jeans all the way to my knees. Then, he cleans the blood from my injuries.

  - Yes, they shot me.

  I take what’s left of my leather coat off.

  - Oh, and they stabbed me in the chest with some knife as well.

  I feel for the spot. Na’ama is looking closely at my blood stained shirt, which is completely torn.

  - Yes, well, at least ten bullets.

  The other medic walks over to us quickly upon hearing this. He lays me flat on my back and cuts my shirt off.

  - Careful, I’ve got important stuff in my pockets.

  The medic removes a crumpled box of cigarettes and looks at me funny.

  - What? Don’t you know how expensive cigarettes are these days? Worth their weight in gold. No, I don’t smoke, but I do use them for barter. Smokers will gladly give you their sandwich in exchange for a cig-

  “You got shot,” Na’ama cuts me off as I return the box of cigarettes to my jeans pocket.

  “And that’s all you have to say? That you worry about the cigarettes you do not even smoke? You got a serious blow to your head, Maharani. Must have been a serious blow.”

  - Yeah.

  The first medic finishes off cleaning all the blood from my legs. He watches as his partner cleanses my chest.

  “Not a scratch,” he says. “All this blood and not a single entry wound.”

  The other medic is also looking closely, and then exchanges a look with the first medic. “Here too. There are signs of a shot through the fabric. Quite a bit of blood, too. But no sign of an actual injury.” They both gaze at me.

  I shrug.

  - Told you, guys. I feel fine.

  I rise to my feet, dust my pants off, or what’s left of them, more like. My jeans are a mess.