by Jeff Elkins
There was another figure moving up the stairs. Jose could barely make out the shape through the smoke. The pre-teen clenched his fists and prepared to stand to meet the potential attacker, but Andi put his hand on Jose shoulder and pulled him down. “Don’t move,” the Slake said, “or we’re all dead.”
The figure came into the view. It was the old man with the eye-patch. He grabbed a canvas bag like the one Jose and Andi were wearing. He sat on the floor and threw it over his head in similar fashion. He motioned with his finger for Jose to be quiet and then he winked.
Jose sat as still as he could. His legs and chest burned. His feet screamed with pain. He wondered how far he’d just sprinted. It had to be at least a mile or two. He didn’t know he was capable of that kind of run.
The fog started to clear. They were sitting on a thin balcony that overlooked the first floor. The strip lead around the top of the room. It seems to be there to make it possible to open the windows all around the top of the old building and ventilate the room. Jose could make out half-finished cars on the floor below. Four of them were scattered through the space. Jose couldn’t tell if they were being assembled or taken apart.
Jose’s heart leaped as the five Conculos in black armor burst into the room. The fog was almost completely clear now. Jose could see now that the staircase he’d run up was built like a retractable fire escape. The old man must have pulled it up behind him as he ran to join Jose and Andi.
A pink portal opened in the room and five more of the armored Conculos stepped through it. They seemed to be arguing about something. Jose strained to hear, but he couldn’t make out their voices. After a short discussion, the beasts began searching the room. They looked in all four of the cars, checking underneath them, opening the trunks and the hoods. Looking in the front and back seats. Once every car was searched, there was a small conference between three of the invaders. Then they split up. A new pink portal was opened and five went back through it to the other side of the Veil. The remaining five left through the front door.
Jose could feel his adrenaline subsiding. His eyes grew heavy and a small knot in the back of his throat formed. He could feel his breathing slow. He wanted nothing more than to close his eyes and fall asleep. He sighed.
“Hold your position for fifteen more minutes,” the old man said. “We don’t know who is watching on the other side.”
Jose intended to answer, “Yes.” Instead his eyes closed and he fell asleep.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Jose grunted at the feeling of something hard poking him in the ribs. “Get up,” the old voice said. The jabs grew in intensity until Jose stirred.
Jose sat up. His eyesight came into focus. His head was pounding and he was overwhelmed by the stench of alcohol and sweat coming from the man looming over him. Jose took in his surroundings. He was still on the balcony of odd warehouse. Dust particles danced in the daylight that streamed through the windows. “What is this place?” Jose asked.
“It’s a chop shop,” the old man said. “Now get your ass up.” Jose looked up and for the first time got a clean look at the man. His face was wrinkled and tired. His gray whiskers hadn’t been shaved in a few weeks. From the hard lines in his forehead and around his eyes, his scowl seemed permanent. The strap of black eyepatch he wore over his right eye cut a heavy grove in his shaved head. He wore a green army jacket, dirt stained cargo pants, and a black t-shirt that stretched tight against his lean chest muscles.
He jabbed Jose again with the toe of his black combat boots. “I said get your ass up, kid,” the old man said. “Time to start moving.”
Jose rubbed his eyes. “You got anything to eat?” he said.
The old man laughed. “Giving you my food would be a waste.” He turned and walked down the iron stairs that led to the floor.
Jose stood and followed the old man down the steps. “What do you mean?” he called.
The old man snatched a bottle off the bottom step. The liquid in it was brown and thick. The old man sneered and said in a disgusted tone, “I mean that you’re probably going to be dead in within the hour because you are the worst Gracanjo I’ve seen.” The old man took a swig from the bottle and coughed. He pointed the mouth of the bottle at Jose and continued. “I’m not kidding, kid. I’m ashamed that you’re part of my legacy. You are the absolute worst.”
“Lay off him, Carl,” Andi said. Jose turned around to see the Slake entering the warehouse through the door. As he passed Jose, he handed him a breakfast sandwich wrapped in yellow paper. “Here you go, kid,” he said.
“Thanks,” Jose said. He unwrapped the paper furiously and took a bight of the biscuit and egg. The biscuit melted in his mouth. “Why’d you save me last night?” Jose said between bights. “If I’m so bad, why not just let me die?”
“I don’t give a fuck about you, kid,” Carl said. “But I can’t have Gracanjo hunted in the streets like an animal. It’ll become open season. Didn’t Chris teach you the damn commandments?”
“Yeah,” Jose said.
“Number three. Never back down. Never show weakness. Number five, they fear us. We don’t fear them. You think your predecessors made those up for fun. We live by that code because it keeps us alive, you dumb shit. The mystery of who and what we are is all that keeps us breathing. Why do you think Bose felt free to take Chris like he did? Because he knows Chris had shit for backup, that’s why.”
Jose chewed in silence. The words stung. He tried to swallow, but the knot building in his throat and chest made it difficult.
“You going to cry now?” Carl said as he took another swig.
“Leave him alone,” Andi said.
“You didn’t even think about turning to fight last night, did you?” Carl said. There was a bight of disappointment in his voice. “You just ran like a coward.”
“They would have killed me,” Jose said, looking at the floor.
“You stupid asshole,” Carl said with a laugh. “You think you were getting away? You think you can actually outrun them? Seven of them were on the other side. No buildings. No obstacles. No corners to turn. Just wide open space, watching you dart about. They were probably leisurely jogging and still keeping up with your dumbass. They were just waiting for you to tire out. Once you stopped they were going to cross the Veil and gut you like a fish. If you had turned and fought, at least you would have made them think twice about running down your replacement. But no. You’re a fucking coward, and every Gracanjo that comes after you is going to pay for it because last night you showed them that we’re afraid.”
“Stop calling me a coward,” Jose said softly.
“Oh, you don’t like that?” the old man said. He leaned against a car and crossed his arms. “What are you going to do about it? Coward.”
“Stop it,” Jose said. His upper lip trembled.
“Moose probably didn’t even train you, did she, you little, stupid coward. She probably just took you out into the woods and made you her bitch.”
“Shut up,” Jose said. “Don’t talk about her like that.” Rage burned in his chest.
“Why?” Carl laughed. “What are you going to do about it? You going to call your mommy and cry. Mommy, the mean drunk man said mean things to me.”
“Stop it,” Jose said again. He dropped the remainder of the sandwich on the ground. His hands clenched into fists.
“That’s enough, Carl,” Andi said. He glanced back and forth between the two of them, trying to keep an eye on both.
“Don’t worry, Andi,” Carl said. “He’s not going to do anything. He’s just a scared little baby who needs his mommy.”
Tears burned in Jose’s eyes. “I said stop it,” Jose said.
“You know what they call you on the other side? Boujan-Gracanjo. The Toothless Gracanjo. That’s right. They think you’re harmless. Because when the fight comes, you run like a scared little bitch.”
“Back off, Carl,” Andi said.
“He’s not going to do anything,” Carl said, s
tepping forward. “He wouldn’t hurt a fly.” Carl took another swig from his bottle and added, “Moose is a pretty lady. What’d it feel like when she had her way with you? Was she gentle?”
“Enough,” Jose said. He meant for the word to be a command, but his voice was more pleading than fierce.
“Seriously, Carl. He’s just a kid,” Andi said.
Carl threw the bottle at Jose’s feet. It smashed when it connected with the concrete. “He’s not a kid,” Carl screamed moving closer to Jose. “He’s a mother-fucking-Gracanjo and it’s time he starts acting like it.”
Jose looked at his shoes. They were covered in the brown liquid. His hands were still clenched. He swallowed. He could feel fear covering his body like a blanket.
Carl looked Jose up and down. “Let’s see how toothless you really are. Maybe I we can drag the fight out of you,” the old man said with a smile. In a smooth motion, he spun and knocked Andi’s legs out from under him. Dropping to the ground, the old man pinned the Slake’s shoulders with his knees. “Here’s what’s going to happen now,” Carl sneered at Jose.
“Please,” Andi pleaded. “Please don’t, Carl. Don’t do this.”
Carl punch Andi across the face. Black blood flew from the Slake’s mouth. Andi screamed in pain.
“I’m going to beat him senseless,” Carl said with a menacing smile. “Until you find the balls to come over here and do something about it.”
Jose looked up. Fear touched his heart making it race. “No,” he said, reaching out with both hands.
“Please don’t hurt him. I’ll do whatever you want.”
Carl delivered another jaw shattering blow to Andi’s face and the Slake screeched in pain. Blood drained freely from its nose.
“I want you to do what you were trained to do,” Carl said pounding Andi’s face a third time.
“Stop,” Jose yelled stepping forward. “Stop it.”
“Come and stop me, coward,” Carl said with a grin. He then punched Andi for a fourth time. This time there was a splintering sound as Andi’s nose twisted in an odd direction and didn’t return to its natural place.
Andi began to cry. “Please stop,” he wept. “Please.”
As Carl reached back for the fifth blow, Jose felt his feet moving him forward.
Carl’s hand pounded the break in Andi’s nose again. The old man reached back for another strike, but instead of striking Andi, Carl caught a foot in the teeth. The impact shot him backward. He fell off of the Slake and the back of his head collided with the ground.
Jose knelt by Andi. “Are you alright?” he said. But before Andi could answer, Jose found himself on the receiving end of one of Carl’s haymaker punches. The blow rattled every bone in Jose’s head, spinning him to the ground.
“Get up, you little bitch,” Carl said. “Let’s see what you’ve learned.”
Jose looked up from the ground. The stance Carl took was painfully familiar. He’d seen it every morning during his workout. It was the same stance Chris used. Jose rose slowly to his feet.
“Move faster,” Carl screamed as he jammed his right heel into Andi’s stomach. More black blood erupted from the Slake’s mouth as Andi choked in pain.
Jose leapt forward. A strange combination of Moose and Chris’ voices called out numbers in his mind. “Seven, six, ten, five. Seven, six, seven, four.” In unison with the voices, Jose attacked without thought, delivering combo after combo of punches and kicks.
Carl smiled, blocking or dodging each attack. The grin on his opponent’s face fueled Jose’s rage. He increased his pace, the numbers coming faster in his mind. It was then that Jose noticed that with each attack he forced the old man to concede ground. He chanced a split second glance behind Carl. What he saw made him smile.
“Is this the best you have?” Carl said as he used his right forearm to block Jose’s incoming left fist. “No wonder you run,” he said stepping back away from Jose’s roundhouse.
Jose continued the barrage. He focused his efforts toward Carl’s head, trying to keep the old man focused on him.
“You’ve got some fire,” Carl said as his stepped back to dodge an uppercut Jose threw. “But I’m growing tired of this game,” he said as he moved right to avoid a left jab.
It was the moment Jose had been waiting for. He threw a right front kick followed by a right jab. The aggressive combo forced the old man to take another step back. The heel of his right foot struck a small metal stool. Carl stumbled, losing his balance for a second. It was all Jose needed. “Attack from the side,” he heard Chris yell in his mind. Taking advantage of his opponent’s momentary misstep, Jose moved to right. With the new position, the teen was free to strike at Carl’s knee. Jose stomped on the old man’s leg with all the force he could muster.
The old man yelped with surprise and pain as his leg gave out from under him. Unable to support himself, he fell.
With a quick and smooth step, Jose repositioned himself behind the old man and, just as Moose had taught him, the pre-teen ended the fight with a tight right sidekick to the back of the old man’s head. Carl crashed forward. His face slammed into the floor.
Jose looked down at the old man with disgust. A slow stream of blood trickled from the man’s forehead from where he had collided with the concrete. Already a large knot was forming where Jose had kicked him in the back of the head. Jose looked across the room at Andi and the smashed liquor bottle. “Who are you?” the teen said, shaking his head in confusion. He looked at the old man again. Lying unconscious on the concrete, Carl seemed weak and broken. Disgust became pity.
Jose knelt next to Carl and checked his pulse. A wave of pain came over him. He felt excruciatingly alone. The voice in Jose’s mind whispered a single word, “Exiled.” Jose closed his eyes and shook his head, trying to fight off the feeling. The old man was still alive. Jose stood and walked back toward Andi.
The Slake was sitting on the ground, clutching his nose with both hands, rocking back and forth in pain. Jose sat on the floor across from Andi and touched its leg. “How can I help?” the pre-teen asked.
Andi choked out his words through tears. “You can’t. You can’t do anything,” the Slake said.
“I’m sorry,” Jose said.
“I can’t believe he did that to me,” Andi said. “After I’ve kept his secret for so long. He’s just going to do this to me. He could have killed me.”
Jose leaned back and smiled. “Well,” he said. “You would have come back.”
Andi stared at him with frustration and tears. “That’s not the point,” he said.
“I’m really sorry,” Jose said.
Andi rubbed his nose some more. “It’s fine,” he said. “And I’m sorry. If I’d known, I wouldn’t have asked him to help you. I’m so sorry.”
“It’s fine,” Jose said as he stood. “I’ll see you around, okay?” he said, walking toward the door.
“Wait!” Andi said. “They’re still out there searching for you.”
Jose turned to face the Slake. With a grin he said, “It’s okay. It’s time that I accept that I’m a Gracanjo.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Jose knew he wouldn’t make it far before they found him, but he was surprised at their efficiency. He’d only made it three blocks before two portals opened: one behind him and the other in front of him. Two of the armored Conculos stepped through the swirling pink circle ahead of him and drew their swords. The early morning sunlight reflected off the blades. One of the two behind him did the same. Jose turned sideways so he could keep an eye on both pairs.
A small park was directly in front of him. He thought about making a run for it. He could jump the small black fence, cut to the right, and maybe lose them in the Sharp-Leadenhall neighborhood. He could feel the blanket of fear covering him again, but then he heard Carl’s voice in his head. “You’re a coward. You’re worthless. I’m ashamed of you.”
Jose swallow and clenched his fists. “We’ll see who’s toothless,” he said to hi
mself.
The one who hadn’t drawn his sword spoke first. “We don’t need those men,” the Conculos said. He removed his helmet and sat it on the ground. He smiled. His face was perfectly symmetrical and his purple eyes were warm and inviting. He stepped forward and extended his hand toward Jose like a man approaching a strange dog. “No one needs to die today, child,” he said.
Jose didn’t move. “Commandment five. They fear us. We don’t fear them,” Jose said softly to himself.
“What’s that?” the Conculos said, taking another small step forward, his hand still outstretched. “I’m sorry. I couldn’t hear you.”
Jose closed his eyes and sang softly, “Little bird, little bird, your voice so small and sweet. Someday your wings will thunder as they beat.”
The Conculos took another step forward. “Come, child. We just want to take you to your partner.”
“Little bird, little bird, just learning how to fly. Someday you’ll soar high in the sky,” Jose sang.
The Conculos stepped forward again. He was almost close enough to grab Jose. “That’s right,” he said. “There’s no need to worry. You just need to come with us.”
Jose opened his eyes. “Little bird, little bird, soft in my hand. Someday your shadow will cover the land.” Jose felt the slightest touch on his wrist. Instinctually, the teen slammed his right hand into the stomach of the purple-eyed beast. In shock and pain, gasping for air, the Conculos grabbed his aching stomach with both hands. Not wasting a beat, Jose sent the beast to its knees with a left cross across the Conculos’ jaw. As the Conculos fell, Jose grabbed the hilt of the sword strapped to the beast’s back and drew the weapon from its sheath. With both hands, Jose jammed the blade through the beast’s spine. The Conculos screamed in pain, grabbing at the blade protruding from his chest. Black blood flowed from the wound, covering the yellow lines on the asphalt.
Jose pulled the sword from his victim and ran toward the single Conculos. Behind its helmet, Jose could see panic in the beast’s eyes. He closed the distance between them, holding the sword with both hands. Jose saw the monster’s wrists move back and to the right, preparing for a strike. The Conculos swung its sword where Jose’s neck should have been, but Jose ducked the blow. Popping up on the Conculos’ right side, Jose and the beast locked eyes. The Conculos expression had changed from panic to despair. The monster moved to counter with a backswing, but before it could bring its sword around, Jose lopped off the beast’s head with a single strike. The monster’s body fell to the right. Its head tumbled away. The black, thick blood spurted from the headless body splattering Jose’s face and torso, and soaking his tennis shoes.
