The Twelve Commandments

by Jeff Elkins

  Jose felt the word come off Chris’ lips in slow motion. “Ten,” Chris said, jumping into action. Before Jose could move, Chris had put down two of the Mardocks: snapping the first one’s neck, and then crushing the nose of the second with a bone-shattering kick to the face.

  Shots rang out as the riders emptied their clips. Jose instinctually ducked his head and covered his ears with both hands. He’d never heard gunshots before. He was shocked by the power of them.

  He glanced up to see the wild-eyed Conculos slice the leg of a Mardock off at the knee and then take off the beasts head with the second blade. The Mardock’s black blood sprayed in all directions, soaking the Conculos. The other friendly monster was dodging strikes from one of the black armored Conculos. With both hands at his side, the friendly Conculos moved out of the wave of each intended blow. Only feet from them, one of Lefty’s boys fired his gun at the battling monsters to seemingly no effect.

  Jose felt his legs come out from under him. The back of his head collided with the ground. Coming to his senses, he saw the twirling eyes of a Mardock stand above him. The beast raised its hand for a kill strike. Jose felt vomit in his throat. His breath caught in his chest. He braced himself for the impact, certain he was about to die; but instead of the Mardock’s claw, thick warm liquid sprayed his face. A strong hand grabbed Jose by the shirt and yanked him to his feet. “Get in the fight, kid,” the wild-eyed Conculos yelled as he removed his swords from the back of Jose’s would-be assailant.

  Jose looked in all directions with a panic. The gunfire had been replaced by the roar of bikes. He glimpsed three of the dirt bikes speeding away. He looked back to the original portal. Chris and the stately monster fought the Conculos with the maces. The black armored monster was standing between them and the portal. As the portal closed, the Conculos smiled and stepped through it.

  Jose exhaled. There were bodies all around. Some monsters splattered with black ooze. Four riders lay dead. Two had giant open wounds in their torsos. Two were bent into odd positions. In front of Jose laid Reggie’s head. The glassy eyes stared back at the young teen, judging him for not getting into the fight.

  Jose’s hands went to his knees. The stale muffin he’d had for breakfast mixed with the sting and foul taste of stomach acid and burst from behind his teeth. The vomit spewed from his mouth, splashing on the ground. He heaved again and again until there was nothing left. Finally, finished, he fell to his butt. His jeans quickly soaked up the black blood of a fallen Mardock who’d almost ended Jose’s life. The ground began to move beneath him. The world was spinning around him. He closed his eyes to steady himself. When he opened them again eyes, Chris was standing over him, looking down in disgust.

  “What in the fuck were you doing?” Chris barked with anger. “You almost got yourself killed!”

  Tears filled Jose’s eyes and ran down his cheeks, but no words came.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  “Don’t feel bad. It happens too many in their first battle,” the statelier of the two friendly Conculos said. Although his words sounded comforting, there was no affection in his body language. He stood erect with his hands behind his back. Jose had learned on the way to the warehouse that his name was Hyoi.

  Jose sniffled. He sat on the concrete floor with his knees pulled to his chest. His stomach felt like it might empty its contents again at any moment.

  “Some of the greatest warriors had difficult beginnings,” Hyoi continued. “I remember the Gracanjo of Moscow. Although I can’t recall his name. By your standards, it was lifetimes ago. He used to cry after every battle. There he was, covered in our black blood, weeping. It was very embarrassing.”

  “Anatoli,” the wild-eyed Conculos added. Jose had learned his name was Bashi. He sat against the other wall, twirling one of his swords in his fingers like a drummer about to begin a concert. “Anatoli the Weeper. That’s what we called him.”

  “No, it’s not,” Hyoi chided.

  “Don’t talk to him,” Chris said, entering from the far in the room with more duct tape. Jose wondered how much he’d heard. “Don’t try to make it okay. It’s not okay.”

  Chris stood over Jose. The younger partner was enveloped by the elder’s shadow. “Here’s the deal kid,” Chris said with a harsh tone that lacked all compassion. “You fight or you die. It’s that simple. There’s no room in this world for noncombatants. You understanding me? You fight or you die. That’s it.”

  Jose only sniffled in response. He didn’t want to talk. He didn’t want to apologize. He wanted the woods back. He wanted Moose, and cooking deer over the fire, and laughing. He wanted his mom, his house, his life before her cancer. He wanted his school, his friends, and recess. He wanted anything but this, anything but this man, and this job, and this life.

  The site of his partner on the ground, sniffling, enraged Chris. “Don’t you feel fucking sorry for yourself,” he yelled. “Don’t you fucking dare! What would your dad say, if he saw you sitting there on the floor, crying like a baby? What would he say?”

  Jose looked up at his partner. The only emotion the young teen had left in was disdain. “I don’t know what my dad would say,” Jose replied. “I never met him.”

  Chris’ rage softened. He sighed. Reaching down, he grabbed Jose by the arm and pulled the teen to his feet. “Get up,” Chris said. “Time to learn something.”

  The room was a square brick box with a wooden ceiling. Once it was a pallet storage facility but it had been abandoned for over a decade. On the far side of the room, there was a single chair. Duct taped to it was a Slake. Its head was shaved and there was a cut above its eye that was dripping black blood. The beast appeared to be unconscious but Jose suspected it was faking.

  “Caught that one guarding Bose-ee’s portal,” Bashi said.

  Chris crossed the room to the monster. While its hand and feet were strapped to the chair, Chris had run out of duct tape before he could tape down its rat-like tail. Pulling a long stand of tape off the roll he’d just gone to get, he taped the creature’s tail to the floor. He repeated the process ten times until more duct tape was showing than the tail.

  By the time he’d finished, Jose, Bashi, and Hyoi had made their way over.

  Chris crossed around the monster to stand in front of it. “Time to wake up you son of a bitch.” With all his might, he punched the beast in the chest. It wheezed for breath and coughed. Chris smacked the beast across the face. It yelped in pain.

  “You’re going to tell us what we want to know, or I’m going to kill you,” Chris said.

  The Slake laughed in reply. Black blood trickled from the side of its mouth.

  “Aren’t you afraid?” Chris yelled, smacking the beast again. “I just said I was going to kill you.”

  The Slake spit black blood in Chris’ direction.

  Chris turned to face Jose. “Here’s your first lesson of the day, kid. These things don’t fear death. Know why?” Chris spun quickly back toward the monster, delivering a hard blow to its nose. “Because the assholes don’t die.”

  The Slake began to laugh.

  “What do you mean?” Jose asked, cocking his head to the right.

  “When we die,” Hyoi replied, “We are reborn in our city of origin. There are two cities in our land. Each has a large, black pool in the center of it. When our current body ceases to function, we emerge from the pool in our home city with new bodies.”

  “If I were to cut this bastard’s head off right now,” Chris said. “He would wake up in an hour back home, safe and sound, and ready to come back and fight some more.”

  “Oh,” Jose said. “Like, come back as a baby?”

  “Nope,” Chris said. “He’ll come back just as he is right now.”

  “We don’t always come back the same,” Hyoi said. “Memories can be fuzzy. Sometimes there are personality changes. Sometimes there are physical scars. But for the most part, we are who we were.”

  “Which means,” Bashi said, moving next to Chris. “That we don
’t give a shit about killing you.” He grabbed the Slake’s face and pinched its snout like a grandmother pinches a cute baby’s cheeks. Speaking in a childish tone, he continued, “Isn’t that right Lenius. You don’t give a shit about this little boy’s life because you have no respect for life at all. Death means nothing to you.”

  “We aren’t born,” Hyoi said to Jose. “We don’t die. We don’t grow. When our lives are interrupted, we wake up and continue about our business.”

  “We don’t have kids,” Bashi said, facing Jose. “There are no baby Mardocks or Slakes. No one new is ever created. Our kind is finite. There is a set number of each race. It never grows. It never decreases.”

  “How many of you are there?” Jose asked.

  “One-hundred-thousand of reach race. Six-hundred-thousand total,” Hyoi said.

  “That’s a lot,” Jose said.

  “No it’s fucking not,” Chris said. “That’s less than the number of people living in Baltimore, less than the number of people we are charged with protecting.”

  “Do you all know each other?” Jose said.

  “I don’t know everyone’s name,” Bashi said. “But after five-thousand years, I think I’ve talked to most of them at some point or another.”

  “You’re five-thousand years old?” Jose said.

  “You’re not getting it, kid,” Bashi said. “We don’t age. We don’t track time. You think in years because the number you have is finite. I don’t care how much time passes because time is unending for me. I’m not five-thousand-years-old. I’m just me.”

  “How many times have you died and come back?” Jose asked.

  “You’re focusing on the wrong details,” Chris said. He grabbed Jose by the back of the neck and pulled him close to Lenious the Slake until their noses were almost touching. Jose resisted, but Chris held firm. “Look him in the eye,” Chris growled. “He doesn’t give a shit about you. If his hands were loose right now, he slit your throat and laugh as you bled out and never give it a second thought. It wouldn’t haunt him at night. He wouldn’t see your face in his dreams because he doesn’t care. Do you understand? So if you hesitate. If you pause in a battle for even a second, you’re dead. Do you understand? He won’t hesitate. He will kill you. And you will be dead. Dead. Get that fucking word in your head, because you don’t fucking come back.”

  “Okay,” Jose said. Chris released his neck and the teen fell to the ground.

  “What else?” Chris said.

  “I don’t…” Jose said.

  “What else do you want to know?” Chris said. “It was your first real fight. What did you see? What else do you want to know?”

  “Why did the guys with guns not hit anything?” Jose said.

  “Excellent question!” Bashi said with glee. From the back of his waistband, he pulled a pistol he’d taken from the fight. From five yards away, he pointed it at Slake and fired five shots. The sound echoed through the room, stinging Jose’s ears.

  “Goddamn it, Bashi,” Chris said infuriated. “Warn us before you do shit like that.”

  Bashi laughed.

  To Jose’s shock, the Slake in the chair was completely unharmed. Jose drew close and examined its face. It smiled back at him in amusement. The bullets hadn’t left a scratch on him. Jose moved to the wall behind him. There in the bricks were the slugs. All five. “Did they go through him?” Jose said with confusion.

  “No,” Hyoi said. “Around him.”

  “Around?” Jose said.

  Hyoi joined him by the wall. “Look at the bullet in the wall,” he said drawing close to the slug. Jose matched his proximity to the brick. “It isn’t part of the brick,” Hyoi said. “It has interrupted the brick, and the brick has compressed to accommodate the foreign matter.”

  “Okay?” Jose said.

  Hyoi pulled back. “We are the same. When we cross the Veil, we are like bullets in the brick,” he said.

  “Okay?” Jose said again, still starting at the brick.

  “They’re the projectiles in the brick,” Chris said. “Get it? They’re like rocks in a stream. Our world is the water. If you throw something at them, or shoot a gun, or fire an arrow, it will just go around them. So you have to get up close and personal. Hand to hand. Your fist, their face. Rule seven.”

  “No weapons. Weapons hurt people,” Jose said.

  “Weapons hurt people, not monsters,” Chris said.

  “While this little lesson is fascinating,” the Slake said. “I’d like to move this along. How about you threaten me again, then I say nothing, then you can do your thing so I can go home?”

  “I’ve got other plans for you,” Chris said.

  “I’m all ears,” Lenious said, tilting his right ear toward Chris.

  Chris smiled. “There’s a new term you need to learn, Jose. Nostmonia.”

  Lenious’ eyes grew wide.

  “Nostmonia,” Jose repeated, trying to commit the term to memory. “What’s it mean?”

  “It means,” Bashi said with a grin, “That the brick wants the bullet out. Your world is in a constant process of trying to pop us like pimples.”

  “If they stay here too long,” Chris said. “They get weaker by the minute, and eventually they burn out. It’s painful.”

  “And when we are reborn from Nostmonia, we lose part of ourselves.”

  “Lose yourselves?” Jose said.

  “We lose memories or skills we’ve learned,” Hyoi said.

  “Or our personality changes, and we’re never comfortable in our own skins again,” Bashi added. Jose noticed a dark cloud of reflection over his face and wondered if he were talking about himself or someone else.

  Lenious continued to fight against his restraints. “You wouldn’t, Hyoi. You wouldn’t dare. The council forbids it.”

  “He is correct,” Hyoi said. “Bashi and I will need to leave before you begin. By law, we are not permitted to participate in a Nostmonia. They are forbidden.”

  “I’ll stay,” said Bashi with an evil grin. “I want to see him squirm.”

  “You can’t just let them do this to me, Hyoi. Please. Please don’t. I’ll tell the council. When I’m reborn, I’ll report you both,” Lenious threatened.

  Bashi leaned close to the Slake’s face. “I’m betting that by the time Chris over there is done with you when you come out of the pool, you won’t even remember your own name.”

  Lenious screamed and fought the chair, straining with his legs, arms, and tail.

  “You see, Jose,” Chris said, locking eyes with Lenious. “The longer you stretch it out, the worse it is for them, and the more of themselves they lose. Now Lenious is a Slake, which means he gets high off of people’s desires being filled.”

  “Okay?” Jose said.

  “Each race gets a charge off of something in Reality. It’s why many of our kind come here,” Hyoi explained. “Slakes like to feel the moment when a human finds satisfaction. Mardocks recharge when humans are overcome by emotional responses – pain and fear are the easiest produce.”

  “Sinciputs love it when a plan comes together,” Bashi answered.

  “What about you?” Jose asked.

  “Conculos are different,” Hyoi explained. “We burn out slower, and we haven’t found what recharges us yet.”

  “Got it,” Jose said. “And the other ones?”

  “Egrats?” Bashi asked. “Who the hell knows? Maybe if they’d stop the damn humming for five minutes we could ask them.”

  “Enough chit-chat,” Chris said. “Let’s get to work. Hyoi, if you’re leaving. Now’s the time.”

  “No!” Lenious screamed. “No, please. Don’t leave me.”

  To the shock of everyone in the room, dropping to one knee, Chris slammed his fist into the monsters left foot, shattering every bone in the appendage. Lenious screamed in reply.

  “Bashi,” Chris said. “You think you can find an addict? I don’t care what kind.”

  “Huh?” Jose said.

  “Well,” C
hris said. “I’m going to beat the shit out of this piece of garbage.” He again dropped to one knee and shattered the Slake’s right foot with his fist. Again the Slake screamed. “And then, right as he starts to burn out, we’ll bring the addict in and recharge this bastard. Then we can beat the shit out of him some more.”

  “Please,” Lenious begged through tears. “Please. Please don’t. Please.”

  “I know just where to go,” Bashi said.

  “No. Hyoi. You can’t leave. Please,” Lenious begged. Tears ran down his cheeks.

  “Chris,” Hyoi said. “What if poor Lenious were willing to trade?”

  “Anything,” the Slake cried. “Please. Anything.”

  “How is my young partner here going to learn to do a Nostmonia if I don’t show him? This is an important Gracanjo skill,” Chris replied.

  “But if Lenious had something to trade for his freedom,” Hyoi said.

  “I don’t know,” Chris said. “I mean, it would depend on what he has.”

  “I’ll tell you anything you want to know,” Lenious said. “I was in the tent when Commander Azo made the plans. I know things. I know things you want to know.”

  “Give me a sample,” Chris said. “Maybe if it’s good, we’ll just kill you.”

  “The Commander is looking for the Tinker’s box,” Lenious said. “He’s heard it is here in Baltimore. He thinks someone is hiding it.”

  “Not good enough,” Chris said. “I already knew that.”

  “I’ll be right back with the addict,” Bashi called as he walked toward the door.

  “No, wait!” Lenious cried. “What do you want to know? Ask me anything.”

  “Who’s the Tinker?” Jose said.

  “No,” Chris said. “I know that too. Don’t waste your breath. I want to know what the box does. Why is it special?”

  “It can change our race,” Lenious said.

  “What?” Hyoi said in shock.

  “If you hold it, think about the race you want to be, then open it, it will make you into that thing,” Lenious said.

  “How is that possible?” Hyoi demanded.

  “I don’t know how it works,” Lenious said. “But I’ve seen it. We attacked the Tinker’s fortress. We were going to steal more coins because he won’t give Commander Azo new ones anymore. There were three of us. We made it to his inner chamber. And then there he was, at a table, working on some gadget. We thought it would be easy. How would a Sinciput stand against three Slakes? But he looked at us, opened the box, and then suddenly he was an Egrat. But not dumb and humming like them. He had his own mind. He killed me first, so I don’t know what happened to the other two, but we were all reborn within a few moments of each other.”