Archangel: Valley of the Shadow http://www.spiritualtramp.com/NaNoWriMoBlog/ My NaNoWriMo Novel. en Copyright 2006 Sat, 30 Dec 2006 12:19:36 -0500 http://www.sixapart.com/movabletype/ http://blogs.law.harvard.edu/tech/rss Table of Contents Chapter One - Archangel Chapter Two - Detective Winston Chapter Three - Coffee Talk Chapter Four - Dead Ends Chapter Five - What Would Chris Do? Chapter Six - Mysterious Stranger Chapter Seven - A Heavy Meal Chapter Eight - Surrender Chapter Nine - Pursuit Chapter Ten - Fugitive Chapter Eleven - The Garden Chapter Twelve - Tragedy Chapter Thirteen - Run Home to Mama Chapter Fourteen - Sweet Susanna Chapter Fifteen - The Hospital Chapter Sixteen - Safe at Home Chapter Seventeen - Dogs of War Chapter Eighteen - Tragic Mistake Chapter Nineteen - Preparations Chapter Twenty - Paths Coverge Chapter Twenty-One - Assault Chapter Twenty-Two - Aftermath Chapter Twenty-Three - Deceit Chapter Twenty-Four - Progress Chapter Twenty-Five - Hunter and Hunted Chapter Twenty-Six - Laying Plans Chapter Twenty-Seven - Hostage Situation Chapter Twenty-Eight - Showdown Chapter Twenty-Nine - Attention All Units Chapter Thirty - Countdown Chapter Thirty-One - Only the Beginning]]> http://www.spiritualtramp.com/NaNoWriMoBlog/2006/12/table_of_contents.html http://www.spiritualtramp.com/NaNoWriMoBlog/2006/12/table_of_contents.html Sat, 30 Dec 2006 12:19:36 -0500 Chapter 31 Sanders gestured to the circle on the floor. “I think you know what will happen next.” Matt nodded. He knew what he hoped would happen. Much of it hinged on whether or not what had popped into his head earlier played out. Instead of walking to the center of the circle as directed he assumed a boxing stance. Sanders shook his head. “This is pointless. If I have to I’ll break your legs and arms and put you in that circle myself.” “You’re welcome to try.” Matt knew that Sanders was right. In no way was he a physical match for the huge thing, even though he was damaged. Grunting in frustration, Sanders lunged at him. The shotgun blasts hadn’t hurt his strength but he was a bit slower. Matt managed to sidestep and let Sanders move carry him past. He then leapt onto Sanders back and locked his legs around the larger man’s chest and one arm around his throat. With his free hand he pulled long blond hair away form Sander’s neck. There he saw what he had hoped, the word “truth” written in Hebrew script. Sanders howled as he realized what was going on. He reached back, trying to get a hold on Matt, but the damp leather made that difficult. Matt sent up a brief prayer and spat on the script. “From dust you were taken and to dust will you return.” He shouted the line from Genesis in its original tongue and viciously scrubbed at the last letter. It came away, though not easily and changed the word from “truth” to “death”. The struggle under his weight gradually lessened and after a few moments Sanders fell and Matt went with him. His ribs complained at drop onto hard floor and the roll free didn’t help matters. When Matt stood he looked back at where Sanders was. Now there was a mound of clay filled clothing. It seemed to pulse once or twice with electricity and then nothing but silence. He looked at the clocks that counted down the impending explosion and found that he had a comfortable lead. He was about to take advantage of that and get out of the shop before he was buried when he saw the air above Sanders’ body shimmer. Looked like he wasn’t out of the woods quite yet. Sanders had been a golem as he had suspected, but it looked like the animating force, the passenger that the golem carried had been able to hang around. The demon was horrid all the worst parts of the reptilian and insectoid world fused together in a pulsing mass. It had seven irregularly misplaced eyes, a mix of black and red. Some had vertical slits for pupils and others were simply raised pustules. Nubs of horns jutted from its forehead and its mouth was a vortex of teeth and dripped thick black mucus. He didn’t think that it existed physically, but in no way did he want to find out. “Depart, then, transgressor. Depart, seducer, full of lies and cunning, foe of virtue, persecutor of the innocent. Give place, abominable creature, give way, you monster, give way to Christ, in whom you found none of your works. For He has already stripped you of your powers and laid waste your kingdom, bound you prisoner and plundered your weapons. He has cast you forth into the outer darkness, where everlasting ruin awaits you and your abettors.” The words sprang from his lips. Grating laughter rang through his head. “Your little words hold no meaning.” Matt noticed that the creature didn’t come any closer though and didn’t look entirely solid. If he squinted he could almost see the wall beyond. “Then say your peace and move on. You can’t affect me, fetid spirit.” “Don’t be so sure about that, York.” The rank hole in the center of its face didn’t move in sync with the words. Matt’s mind was suddenly filled with a hungry buzzing. His head began to hurt. Matt closed his eyes, genuflected, and said “May the holy cross be my light, step back from me Satan.” The buzzing in his head subsided and as he opened his eyes he swore he could almost see a white haze in the air before him. “Quaint. Very quaint.” The creature known as Sanders hovered in the air and moved back a few feet. “You’ve managed to do more than you know and as such have earned the ire of forces unimaginable to you. Count your days man. They will be fewer in number than may wish.” A noise that sounded somewhat like a steam whistle mixed with fingernails on a chalkboard ran through Matt’s head and he felt that sick twist at his center again. The air behind Sanders rent open, revealing a black tear in space. It swallowed the hideous thing and snapped shut. A chorus of beeping was the next thing Matt heard. He looked up and the clocks had advanced significantly. He had only seconds to get out. The back door offered to put a thicker portion of wall between him and the explosion once he was out. Doors banged open in front of him as he ran with his hands outstretched. He made it into the alley and a good piece beyond before the explosion pushed him to his knees. Leather shredded on the pavement and he left a few layers of skin behind. Somehow he got to his feet and continued running. He stopped at the mouth of the alley and looked out. Police and fire trucks would be all over this area in about two minutes. It would be near impossible for him to get out without being seen. Going on foot was his only option right now though, so he stepped out from cover. After a block he heard the whine of a motorcycle behind him. It shot past and then geared down quickly and came to a stop about thirty yards up. It was a bright yellow Kawasaki with red lightning bolts running up the sides. The rider was wearing matching yellow leathers and a red helmet. It was one of Jose’s buddies. Matt ran to him. “Thanks for stopping.” Matt clapped him on his shoulder. “Carla sent me back to make sure you were all okay. Get on.” Matt slung his leg over. “Did you see Jose?” “No. Thank Our Lady that I saw you. We need to get out of here before the police show up. Hold on.” The nameless rider kicked the bike into high gear. Wind blew through Matt’s hair. He didn’t have his helmet, so he kept his head down and held on. The ride was mercifully short and when they stopped and got off he only vaguely recognized where they were. It was one of those home grown used car lots that seemed to grow like rank weeds in the poorer parts of town. He and the biker were the only two home. “Thanks for the ride…” Matt waited. “Ernesto.” He reached into a slit pocket in his jacket and produced a key. “This will fit that red hatchback.” He tossed Matt the key and spun the bike around. Matt watched the man drive off. “Ernesto.” He said musing out loud. Then he remembered that that was the name of the biker gang’s leader. “Nah, couldn’t be.”, though why he doubted it after a day like today he couldn’t say. He turned and walked to the beat-up Dodge. It started easily and he pulled out of the lot, heading for their first rendezvous point. It would be a hell of a drive as worn out and with as much pain as he was in. The time would be well spent coming up with where to go from here. He didn’t expect any of his friends to stick with him in this. It would be a painful and perhaps impossibly difficult road without them, but he hoped and believed that they would. His head buzzed with questions as he drove through the chill November evening into the uncertain future. End of Book One http://www.spiritualtramp.com/NaNoWriMoBlog/2006/12/chapter_31.html http://www.spiritualtramp.com/NaNoWriMoBlog/2006/12/chapter_31.html Mon, 18 Dec 2006 13:36:13 -0500 Chapter 30 Lee motioned to his stolen cruiser. “That’s not going to be any good to get around in.” Jose watched the group cross the street led by Zach. Then he looked around and noticed that the street was deserted. It was just like one of those spaghetti Westerns right before the gunfight. He expected to see a tumbleweed any minute. “Well we definitely need to get the hell out of Dodge. I’m pretty sure that we’ve called in all of our favors for a few lifetimes. Let’s just get under some cover and see what happens.” They jogged across the street and waited behind some parked cars with the others. The silence seemed to stretch like taffy. It ended with a flash of light and a muffled wumph sound. All of the glass in the shop exploded outwards and the building collapsed onto itself, just like one of those professional demolition jobs. Jose screamed. It was almost audible above all of the other noise. Lee had to grab and hold him to keep him from running across into the collapsed building. “He’s gone Jose. It’s over.” “The Hell it is.” He jabbed at his cell and called Robin. Her shaky voice answered almost immediately. “What happened?” “I was going to ask you the same thing. When did your transmission cut out?” “I saw you guys leave and I saw Matt stay behind. They talked for a minute and then static. Is everything alright?” Jose felt like throwing up. “No. No everything is not alright. Matt stayed in the building and it just blew up… in. He’s gone Robin.” Surprisingly she didn’t cry. She just didn’t have it in her to cry. “You guys need to get out. I checked some feeds and the cops are coming your way. Stick to the plan. I’ll meet you at the first checkpoint.” She hung up. Jose looked back at Lee. “Looks like it’s time for us to go after all.” “You.” Lee spoke to Zach. “Get these folks out. When you see the cops make something up about a gas leak. You didn’t see us.” Zach looked briefly confused. His head hurt and the last ten minutes had been a nightmare. “No idea what’s going on.” He looked at Jose. “Gas leak. Right. You go on and you make damn sure to explain all of this to me when you can.” Jose and Lee jogged off. They didn’t get too far before they heard the brief blip of a police siren. Both men stopped and put their hands up. Neither had the strength to run. When Lee saw the chief’s official car he almost lay down and close his eyes. It was over indeed. Paul rolled down his window. “For God’s sake get in back before someone sees you.” Lee looked at Jose and saw his own confusion mirrored there. Nothing left to lose they climbed into the car. Paul floored it, lights and sirens off. He saw Lee’s eyes in his rearview and felt pangs of guilt threaten to tear him apart. “Everything you think about me is right. I’m a bastard, a dirty cop and far worse than any of that. I’ve given up everything that the sisters taught me and if I ever had a soul then I gave that up years ago. I thought I was gonna go all the way down without swinging and I am gonna go down, but the least I can do is get you out of town safe. After that you’re on your own. Was York in the shop with Sanders?” Lee nodded. His head was spinning, but he fought hard to keep his wits. “Damn. Sorry about that. Another black mark against me. I’d say that you have to understand I had no choice, but that would be bullshit. I made my choice a long time ago.” Jose wanted to reach through the mesh that separated them from the old man and make his head detach from his shoulders. Instead he began to recite the rosary under his breath. Enough people had died for now. Paul continued. “Here’s how it’s gonna play out. The official story for as long as I can spin it out is that you and York were both in that shop. I’d clear you but there are other, bigger, uglier fish out there that would override me. You need to fall off the face of the earth. I think you know how to do that.” He looked at the Hispanic man in the back seat. “I can guess who you are and as far as I know you’re clean in this. If you stir the pot at all you’ll find yourself in York’s shoes.” Jose didn’t bother looking up. “But Sanders is dead. Everthing’s over, right? I mean I don’t fully understand everything, but the big guy was behind it all.” “You’re right. You don’t understand. The person you call Sanders was maybe a colonel at best. Hell, he may not even be that far up the food chain. Bigger things than you and I are on the move. Don’t know if it’ll give you any satisfaction, but York screwed up some pretty major plans for Sanders to take a personal interest.” Lee spoke next. “Do you know what those plans were?” Paul shook his head. “No. And I don’t want to.” Lee’s hackles rose a little. He was pretty sure Paul wasn’t telling the whole truth, but he said nothing. “Where can I take you?” “The Cliffs.” Jose answered. “We have a car parked nearby.” None of the men felt the need to speak for the rest of the ride. Paul stopped near the apartment complex. “You have time. I don’t know how much. I won’t report you, but if you’re caught I won’t help you. I’ll bury you both.” Lee caught Paul’s eyes. “I see you again and one of definitely won’t survive the meeting.” “You’re welcome.” Lee and Jose climbed out and headed for the Cuda. It rumbled to life on the first crank. Quickly and efficiently they headed for the state line and the meeting with Robin. Each felt Matt’s absence acutely, though in different ways. ]]> http://www.spiritualtramp.com/NaNoWriMoBlog/2006/12/chapter_30.html http://www.spiritualtramp.com/NaNoWriMoBlog/2006/12/chapter_30.html Sun, 10 Dec 2006 23:03:47 -0500 Chapter 29 Lee arrived at the spot, a dumpster located behind a now abandoned strip mall. He drove around the place twice just to make sure that he didn’t see anything out of place. The asphalt of the parking lot was cracked and growing a bumper crop of rank weeds. One rusted out hulk of a pickup truck was parked on two flat tires. Its windows were broken out and it had been tagged by a number of the local graffiti artists. The back alley was separated from the property next door by some boxwoods that had grown to monstrous proportions. All of this but no people in sight. Satisfied he stopped the car and got out. A stiff wind whipped against him as he walked to the green and rust red metal box. Sanders had said that it would be in a brown paper parcel taped underneath. Lee knelt down and felt along the bottom, careful not to cut himself on any rusty shards of broken metal. His effort was rewarded with a smooth package sealed with heavy gray tape. “Looks like you were a man of your word.” He wrenched it free and started to open it. A second thought about the words he had just spoken stopped him. He doubted seriously that Sanders was anything of the kind. His coming here had been fueled by judgment clouded by emotion. Who was to say that this thing wouldn’t blow up in his face? For that matter, if it didn’t would the “antidote” even work? Maybe the only purpose that his being here served was to be kept from assisting his friends. The sound of an engine and tires crunching on loose gravel made his head snap up. There, pulling into the alley’s mouth was a patrol car. No way that was an accident. It didn’t block him in per se. He could get to his car and get out the other way, but shaking the tail with a lead that small in a car as old as the one he was driving was unlikely. He slipped his burden in his pocket and held up his hands. He recognized the patrolman that got out of the passenger side as Steve Calhoon. The strawberry blond hair was a dead giveaway. He was average height and had the beginnings of a pot belly. If memory served the other person would be his partner Jenna Yardsley. Calhoon’s hand was on his gun, but it was still in its holster. “Hi Lee.” He said in a voice that was trained into the neutral tone you used with perps, authoritative without being confrontational. “Calhoon.” Lee nodded. “You need to come back to the station with us.” It wasn’t quite a demand, too polite for that. But it carried the weight of that holstered weapon Lee shook his head. “Afraid I can’t do that. I know why you’re here and I know you and Jenna are good cops, honest cops. You know I am too right?” “I’ve got my orders Lee. You know that. So honest or no, you need to come with us. If there’s a problem we can work that out downtown. Don’t make me draw down on you.” His tone indicated how distasteful that would be. Pulling your gun on a brother officer was never anything you wanted to have to do. “Tell you what. You let me go and I promise that after all this is over I’ll turn myself in.” Lee knew how ridiculous that sounded coming out of his mouth. There was no way he’d let himself go were their situations reversed. “Now you know better than that. The chief himself put out the APB on you.” “So how did you know I’d be here?” Lee lowered his hands very slowly. “Anonymous tip phoned in. We were the closest unit.” Lee could hear the chief’s muffled voice in his head. Paulie made the “anonymous tip” there was little question of that in Lee’s mind. Still, it didn’t matter who did it or why. Lee needed a way out and there was only one. It might wind up getting him shot, but that was a chance he needed to take. “Fine. You got me fair and square.” He walked to Calhoon very slowly, bringing both hands together for the cuffs. Satisfied, the patrolman removed his hand from the butt of his pistol and went for his cuffs. Lee could see Jenna through the windshield. She was a handsome brunette woman and always reminded him a bit of Lauren Bacall. The powerful car’s engine still rumbled and her hands stayed on the wheel, just in case Lee took off on foot. An uneven place in the pavement provided him with a likely looking place to trip. He did, but instead of falling he stumbled into a crouching run. That carried him into the door, pinning Steve between it and the car. A quick right to the man’s chin put him out, at least for a moment. A yank on the door and the patrolman’s body fell to the pavement. Jenna couldn’t believe what she had just seen. Still her training kicked in and she yanked the shotgun from its clip on the dash. Before she could put her finger in the trigger guard though, Lee had reached in and grabbed her by her right forearm. She was dragged out onto her partner’s sprawled form and now Lee had the shotgun. “Sorry Jenna. Now, you need to lie down on your stomach.” She did as she was told, her face carved from stone. He put his knee into her back and cuffed her one handed. He gave Calhoon the same treatment. Reliving them of radios, weapons, and keys took a few minutes. Then he helped them both to a sitting position against the wall. Sometime during this process Calhoon woke up. Knowing what was going on, if not why he looked up at Lee. “Some honest cop.” He groaned a little. “I think you cracked one of my ribs.” “If what you’ve been told about me was true you’d both be dead right about now.” He watched them take that in and saw Jenna nod. “As it is I need your car and guns for a bit. In return I want you to do me a favor.” “After what you pulled?” Jenna snorted. “Give me one good god damn reason.” “I think I can do that.” He pulled out the parcel. “I’ve been told that this will bring Sara McDowell out of her coma. When you get picked up I want you to get it to the hospital. After I do what I need to do, I will turn myself in. Then you guys get a turn. That’s the best I can do.” Without waiting for an answer he pitched the package between them and ran to the cruiser. The police band radio was on, but quiet. He turned it up and pointed the car’s nose towards downtown. He wanted to deliver the antidote in person, but he had promised to help these people in their fight. It was after all his fight too. Pondering his future was something he’d had time to do and he knew that he didn’t have one as a police officer anywhere. If he didn’t wind up in prison then he’d need to disappear. He didn’t have any hope that the woman he loved would recover. He had no family to go to and precious few friends. In that he and Matt York had much in common. He was now just a few blocks from the coffee shop. The police cruiser pulled over and he grabbed the microphone. “Attention all units, officers down at 4000 Marketplace Drive.” That was the address where the old strip mall stood. “Please respond.” He racked the mike and finished driving the rest of the distance. Turning onto the street he saw some bikers pass him going in the other direction at a good clip. Then he saw the devastation where the front door used to be. He grabbed the shotgun and parked. Free of the car he sprinted the last few yards, ready for almost anything. http://www.spiritualtramp.com/NaNoWriMoBlog/2006/12/chapter_29.html http://www.spiritualtramp.com/NaNoWriMoBlog/2006/12/chapter_29.html Wed, 06 Dec 2006 13:04:31 -0500 Chapter 28 Robin had driven for about an hour before she started to see signs of civilization. There was still no sign of her being followed so she breathed a sigh of relief. She cursed the fact that she’s forgotten her phone. Even if she could find a payphone she didn’t have any change. And if the cops were after her she didn’t want to risk being seen. Then she had an idea, one that should have occurred to her earlier. She booted up her laptop and started rooting through its case. After a minute she produced a slim PC card. It was designed to let her access the net via cellular towers. This was the boonies and hardcore, but hopefully she could get a signal. The screen came up and she popped the card in. A happy chirping noise told her that it was recognized and searching for a signal. Ten seconds later it showed two small red bars. It wasn’t much but she’d give it a shot. She connected to the net and fired up her internet phone call software. The built in mic and speaker weren’t great, but they had to be enough. Robin punched in Jose’s number and heard it ring. “Jose.” Came the terse answer. “Who the hell is this?” “It’s Robin, Jose. Look I don’t have much time. I’m running from the cops right now. No idea how they found me or why they are. I bolted and am heading back toward syou guys.” “Robin, don’t come back here. Things are hairy but you need to stay safe.” There was a pause on Jose’s side. “Can you get to the webcams from where you are?” “I can try.” She fired up the browser. It was slow thanks to the cellular signal. “Are you guys going in?” Jose grunted. “Matt’s in there solo right now. I told him to wait but he wouldn’t. I want to go in, but really need to know what we’re up against.” Robin logged in to the site and pulled up the first camera, the one that covered the counter. She saw someone crawling on the floor. She wasn’t sure if it was Matt or not. “Keep in mind I’ve got a lag here and the picture’s not the greatest. I’ve got someone crawling on the floor near the register. There’s what looks like four people bound and gagged to chairs and Sanders looking down at the floor. From the angle I have I can’t make out what he’s looking at. It’s not much, sorry.” “That’s okay sis, more than we had to go on thirty seconds ago. Find some place to go to ground. Call in a half hour and keep calling every fifteen minutes until you get me.” “Alright. Good luck.” Jose tucked his phone back into a pocket. “Okay guys in about two minutes we’re going to go over there and start raising some hell.”
Matt finished his crawl to the counter. From his point of view at floor level he could see feet and chair legs. There also looked to be someone lying on the floor. He couldn’t tell who thanks to the narrow gap. Then he heard the chanting begin. It was in a voice that was no doubt Sanders, but what disturbed him most was that he couldn’t understand what the man was saying. They didn’t sound like distinct words, just a bass rumble of fluctuating exhalations. He slowly came up to his knees and brought the gun up. Coming to his feet without making a noise was hard, especially in biker leathers that were a little snug in spots. Still he was able to come to his feet and brought the gun to bear on where he thought the man was. The scene that met his eyes filled him with terror. Sanders had scrawled a thaumaturgic circle, this one a triangle inside a double circle. Each point of the triangle touched the inner circle and the space between inner and outer was filled with an illegible scrawl. Susanna was inside the triangle. Her feet together and arms outspread touching each vertices. It was a summoning ritual for certain. Sanders stood at her feet holding a large pistol pointed at her chest. Four blindfolded people sat in chairs around her. There heads were bowed as if in prayer. He couldn’t tell if they were alive or dead in the dim light. Matt brought his gun sites in line with Sanders head and his finger tightened on the trigger. Then he saw something in Sanders other hand. It looked suspiciously like a detonator. He lowered his own pistol slightly. “Good choice Mr. York.” Sanders had stopped chanting. “You kill me and the detonator drops blowing us all up.” Matt saw several more of the large gray bricks flashing countdowns were stuck to the wall in what he was sure were strategic places. “You don’t and this young lady dies.” “Then I guess we have a stand off.” Matt snapped the pistol back up to site on Sanders head. “Not quite. You see in just a few moments I will kill her no matter what. I feel the need to move on from this place and what I do here will enable that. I do offer you a choice though. You take her place.” Sanders turned his head to look at Matt. His eyes had neither pupil nor iris. They were solid white. “I imagine you have the purity of heart necessary. You do that and I let these nice people go.” “What about the bombs?” Matt tried to ignore the eyes, but it was hard. “Can’t do anything about those. They’ll go off either by my trigger or by their timer, whichever comes first. Make your decision Mr. York.” “And if I put my gun down then what? You just pop me between the eyes and carry on. Your kind aren’t very good at keeping your word.” “My kind?” Anger crept into Sanders voice. “You don’t have any idea what my kind is. Oh you think you do. You call us demons, monsters, even gods. You know nothing York.” He stopped and took a breath to calm down. “So no more platitudes. You come over here and lie down or I end this girl’s existence right now.” Matt put the gun down and came around the counter. Sanders didn’t shift his gun from her in the slightest. He looked a little bemused and perhaps disappointed. Matt knelt down beside Susanna and scooped her up. She didn’t seem to weigh anything at all. “I’m going to put her over here.” He nodded over towards the trash cans near the bar. The small cannon followed every move. It was then that a series of loud revs came from outside. Sanders pivoted to bring his gun back towards the front door. Glass blew in as the front tire of a motorcycle came busting through. Riderless it didn’t stay upright once inside, instead landing askew and banging into the counter. Two men came in behind it large pistols in their hands. Matt had time to see that they were riders from Jose’s old gang. Sanders laughed and pulled the trigger twice. The sound was incredible and after each shot flame grew six inches from the black steel barrel. Both men were wrenched back as their chests literally exploded. Their bodies tried to exit the way they came in but got tangled and fell, blocking the entrance. Matt jumped over the counter and snatched his gun landing solidly on the other side, behind cover. A loud crack from where the evil man stood laughing and a huge chunk of countertop disintegrated into wood and formica shrapnel. He looked into the kitchen and saw Jose. His brother had one of the scatterguns out and was walking in a squat. He motioned for Jose to flatten. Then he felt a hollow, rotten pain tear though him. Just over that he heard Sanders chanting loudly. Jose spread out on the floor and continued his approach. Robin watched something on the screen that puzzled her. After a sharp burst of static on her windows, she saw the four people in the chairs break whatever bonds held them and stand up. Each had some sort of haze surrounding them. She brought the phone screen back up and hit dial. Jose heard his phone chirp and poked the button on his headset. “This had better be good.” Robin spoke loudly into her mike. “I think those hostages are under Sanders control. They’re coming towards the counter. He isn’t looking in your direction. He’s moving the girl.” Jose got back to his knees and saw that she was right. The four were coming his way, their eyes rolled back into their heads. Sanders was placing the girl back inside the triangle. “I see it.” He motioned for Matt to rise. Matt poked his head up. He couldn’t get a clear shot at Sanders, between the four moving his way and the way Susanna was being held. Matt jumped over the counter, intending to blow past Donna and get Susanna or take Sanders out at the knees. Instead Donna grabbed him by the collar and waist and through him against the wall, just above the espresso machine. He was pretty sure that he heard something snap inside him. Cups and saucers came down onto the floor with him clattering and breaking. Adrenaline flooding his system kept him from feeling most of the pain. “Holy Jesus.” Jose said. He stood fully and watched as the four human puppets stood to block any access to their master. Sanders placed the redhead back into the triangle. He kept an eye on the door, but it looked like no one else wanted to try that entrance. Kneeling beside her, he drew the hidden knife from his belt buckle and began to chant. Jose went through the break in the counter and tried to get a bead on Sanders. A skinny, blond man moved to block his way. “I’ll shoot you man, get out of my way.” The customer stared vacantly, unimpressed. One of his arms snapped out faster than Jose could follow and caught him square in the chest. It felt like a crowbar hit his sternum. He went down coughing and the enslaved customer kneed him in the face. Zach was coming up the alleyway and had already been in a rush because he was late to work. When he heard the crash from the front of the store he broke into a run. Everything blurred as he saw that the back door was open a crack. He came through it and through the kitchen door. Broken crockery, Matt on the floor, a busted in front door, all of these things assaulted him as he came into the back of the café proper. Then he saw Susanna on the floor and someone cutting open her clothing. He launched himself on to the counter and a second jump carried him over the heads of the customers. ]]> http://www.spiritualtramp.com/NaNoWriMoBlog/2006/11/chapter_28.html http://www.spiritualtramp.com/NaNoWriMoBlog/2006/11/chapter_28.html Wed, 29 Nov 2006 22:42:51 -0500 Chapter 27 Lee called the doctor back, but got her voicemail. “Doctor Jolson, this is Detective Winston. I’m going to get the antidote for Sara. If you get this message in the next hour call me back.” The directions that Sanders had given him would take him across town. Getting it, delivering it and hauling ass back to the shop would make him late for his appointment, but maybe not too late. The more he drove the more he began to curse himself. He had to at least call Matt and tell him what he’d done. A few button pushes called up Jose’s number. The phone rang half a dozen times before Jose’s voice answered, but it was just a recorded voice. It wasn’t his day to reach people. “Matt, Jose this is Lee. Sanders knows that Matt is coming. He doesn’t know about Jose. I may not be able to make it on time. Call me and let me know when you get this message.” He hung up. He almost wished that he believed in something he could pray to. Instead he jut drove and drove grinding his teeth together.
Hours passed while Robin went back and forth between watching the video feed and cruising the net trying to ferret out information. Her eyes were growing heavy as she fought sleep. She decided to take a shower after all. Everything was proceeding according to plan so she could spare a few minutes. Soon the bathroom was filled with steam and her voice echoed off the walls. It was tempting to stay in there all day, but she didn’t. All too soon she was dry and back in her slightly grimy clothes. She reminded herself that tonight she could probably take time to wash what she had on if everything went just right. She prayed, not for the first time and probably not for the last that God would protect everyone at the shop. Strobing lights flashed through the room’s thin curtains. It was brief, but eye catching. She moved quickly to the front window and looked out. A police cruiser sat parked just outside the motel office. A few minutes later two police officers and the hotel clerk came up the walkway. One of the uniforms said, “Look sir, we’re not here to arrest her. We’re concerned that she’s in danger.” “Yeah,” his partner said “and if she’s hurt in any way because you drag your feet then you’re liable.” The young man barely out of his teens didn’t want to make trouble. He fished for the key to her room trying to find it in the midst of its dozens of practically identical brethren. Finally he produced it. “Shouldn’t we knock first?” “No. Someone might be in there with her.” Both men drew their guns. “Now open the door. He did and then stepped rapidly out of the way. The first cop entered, his partner covering him. The room was empty except for a few clothes on the bed and a cell phone on the night stand. “Clear.” He went the rest of the way in. “Miss, if you can hear us you need to come out of the bathroom. His partner checked the tiny closet, but it was empty save for jangling hangers set in motion by opening the door. The first cop went to the bathroom door. His pistol pointed up, he tried to twist the knob but it wouldn’t give. He nodded at his partner and stepped back. One well placed kick drowned out the clerk’s protests. The door banged against the wall and almost shut itself again. The bathroom too was empty, but a steamed mirror and a narrow window left open a crack spoke to recent occupation. Robin cranked the jeep to life and drove slowly out of the parking lot. She fought the urge to gun the engine, in case the policemen heard it. One eye on the road and the other behind her she started out for the city. It wasn’t until she was fifteen minutes out that she realized her phone wasn’t on her. She had grabbed the laptop though and almost everything else she had was in the very back. That left her without any way of contacting the guys and letting them know about her predicament. The city was a good three hours away. There was no chance that she’s get to the shop before things heated up. Hopefully in this case late was better than never.
Sanders pulled up into a parking spot across from the shop. A long look around revealed nothing suspicious. He was early, but that was the way he liked to do things. Based on the information he had at hand he didn’t expect that his hounds would be joining him. That was alright. He felt that he could handle the situation well enough by himself, but just in case things didn’t go according to plan he had a little insurance. A man in his position could call upon some rather extraordinary forces if things warranted it. He patted his jacket and felt a rather thick little book, his little black book though it had nothing to do with dates, to make sure it was in place. The trunk opened and he retrieved what looked like a traveling salesman’s sample case. It was a cube approximately thirty inches on each side and quite heavy. He sat it on the sidewalk and extended the handle. It would roll easily on its two casters. Next he pulled out two large pistols. Custom made by an old, old friend, not only did they look intimidating, they were rather effective. A round from one of these could go through a brick wall and still make a messy hole in a man standing on the other side. Each held eight rounds and fit in snug holsters under his coat. Finally he pulled out a large attaché that went over his shoulder. It was this bag that he had picked up last and was perhaps the most important bit of insurance. He strolled lazily across the street and walked into the shop. The fair Susanna and another young lady, a name tag proclaiming that she was Donna, were behind the counter. A small table was occupied by three customers; two young men and another young lady. There was no one else that he could see in the cozy little café. Susanna looked up and a dark cloud crossed her features. It was that Detective, Baker she thought his name was. “Hi, welcome back to E-brew-lient. Were you able to find anything out about Robin?” She wondered in the back of her mind why a detective would need so many bags. Sanders smiled at her. “Why yes actually. She is in good hands by now I am certain.” He looked at his watch. “In fact everything is coming along well in this little case.” “Great!” she effused. “I hope she’ll be back soon. I don’t think I’m quite cut out for this gig.” “No way.” Donna said. “You’re doing fantastic.” “You really think so?” Susanna shook her head. “Cause it’s just so much responsibility.” Sanders really wanted to shoot them both now, but that would be rushing things. He did pull one of the long black guns though. “Ladies, please be quiet.” He had their rapt attention and that of the three customers. One of the men started to stand. “I wouldn’t recommend that.” He reached behind him and turned the little thumb latch. “If you would all be so kind as to raise your hands that will make things run smoothly. And if you want to live then you certainly want things to run as smoothly as they can.” Everyone complied. None of them possessing a shred of doubt that this man would do nasty things if they didn’t. Sanders reached into a slit in the attaché and pulled out several long plastic ties, the sort you might use to close industrial strength garbage bags. With his gun he gestured at the man that had tried to stand. “You sir. What might your name be?” The tall, lanky blond answered, “John.” “Well John, come here. You’re eager to be involved I can tell.” John stood and walked over, slowly. “Now John, you take these and use them to bind the hands of your friends and these two nice young women behind the counter.” John hesitated briefly and then looked at the gun. He took the plastic strips and walked back over. “Do it tight now. I hate sloppy work.” He stepped over to the large window and lowered the shade that ran its length. He never took his eyes off the group. He also took the opportunity to flip the cheery “We’re Open” sign around to its sad little “Closed” side. Susanna was the first one to break the silence. “Why…what’s going on? You’re the police. Why’re you doing this?” “Well let’s just say that I’m feeling a little petty and leave it at that shall we? Now talk again without my leave and I’ll cut out your pretty tongue.” He watched as John finished putting the bonds on everyone present. When it was finished, Sanders told him to sit back down. “Now John, I’m going to set my pistol down so that I can tie you. Remember that while I do this I am still capable of snapping your neck with one strike and I will be behind you the whole time.” John nodded. “Good. Very good.” He put the gun down on a nearby table and used two of the ties, drawing them closed until the man whimpered in the base of his throat. He then went around and checked each of the others after retrieving the pistol. “Oh you did good work young man. Not your first time tying young ladies up I would wager.” His next step was to take some of the coffee shop’s linens and blindfold each person. He lingered behind Susanna, taking in the exquisite perfume of her innocence. “Oh my. I thought as much before, but now I know. You’re a virgin aren’t you my dearest?” She blushed to the tips of her ears. Shame and fear clutched at her heart. She nodded, but said nothing. “Good.” He crooned into her ear. “That may well come in handy later.” They heard curious sounds of chairs and tables being moved and low mumbling.]]> http://www.spiritualtramp.com/NaNoWriMoBlog/2006/11/chapter_27.html http://www.spiritualtramp.com/NaNoWriMoBlog/2006/11/chapter_27.html Tue, 28 Nov 2006 23:02:35 -0500 Chapter 26 Lee drove the old car into a parking spot just outside the door to a Quick Mart. He felt safe running this quick errand since for right now his description had only gone out over the police band. The chief wanted to keep this as low key as possible for now. As easy as it would be to pin something on a cop in this town, he didn’t want a whole lot of publicity yet. That’s what Lee’s instincts said anyway. And so far they were still batting better than Hank Aaron. He bought some sunglasses, a navy hat that said “Keep On Truckin”, a newspaper, a six pack of Coke and a bag of nacho chips. Once he was back in the car his phone rang. It was the good doctor so he answered right away. “Have some good news for me doctor. No have some great news.” He waited. “Well Sara’s condition hasn’t gotten any worse. Unfortunately it hasn’t gotten any better either.” There was a hesitation in her voice. “So why call me? I know you don’t like toying with folks.” “Well Lee, I have a message to pass on to you that I’m not sure I should. But at this point even something like this is worth considering, no matter how odd. A man said that he had the antidote and that if we wanted it he would be glad to pass it on to us, but you had to call him first.” A shiver ran through him. “Did the man leave his name?” “No. That was one strange thing. He said you’d know who he was and left a number to call. She gave it to him. “If this is legitimate in any way you might want to consider it. She can’t stay like this forever.” “Thanks. Thanks doctor. I’ll call you if it pans out.” He hung up the phone. His body was almost completely numb. He had no idea how long he sat there. Eventually his fingers dialed the number. “Detective?” Sanders voice managed not to sound smug. “Hello Sanders.” Lee answered, his voice flat as the metallic taste in his mouth. “I got your message. What do you want?” “Oh it’s not about what I want. It’s about what you want and what that’s worth to you. We make a fair trade, life for life.” “I need some specifics.” He didn’t feel like it was him saying the words. Sanders sighed. “Fine. I’ll spell it out for you. You tell me where your little friend Matt is and I’ll tell you where you can pick up the package for your lady. It’s really that simple.” ]]> http://www.spiritualtramp.com/NaNoWriMoBlog/2006/11/chapter_26.html http://www.spiritualtramp.com/NaNoWriMoBlog/2006/11/chapter_26.html Tue, 28 Nov 2006 22:38:14 -0500 Chapter 25 Jose and Robin both busied themselves by shutting down and packing all of the computer equipment. Matt collected the various weapons they had pulled off of the assassins and created an armory of sorts. None of them wanted to think about burning down the house. Jose ran down the plan verbally to help make sure they didn’t forget anything. “Robin, you made sure to route any new messages from that web drop box to my smart phone, right?” She nodded. “Hopefully that Sanders guy will be too busy doing whatever it is he does to look closely at the architecture. I tweaked some of the existing software to get that to work. If he or someone else does try and take it apart it should take them a couple of days at least.” “I’ll also get any updates from my buddies on the phone too. But with what Lee just filled me in on I don’t think that we need too much more. Hey Matt, tell me again why we’re burning down Mama’s place.” Matt looked up. “If Sanders or anyone comes out here to find us it will at least cover our tracks and confuse things. I’m a wanted man and if they connect the dots with you two, then you’ll be accomplices. We need as much obfuscation as possible. I grabbed a bunch of her pictures and documents that I know you and I might want. She also had about two grand in cash tucked under her mattress. Until we figure out where we’re going to land it might come in handy.” Robin stopped what she was doing. “I can’t tell you how much I hate this whole business.” “I know baby, but with Lee’s help and Jose’s posse I have no doubt that at least you and Jose will be in the clear soon enough. And if everything goes according to plan then they won’t be looking for me.” They had all agreed that until the scope of Sanders’ influence was known that it would be best if Matt just disappeared. Several trips back and forth to the Jeep and to Lee’s muscle car and they had everything that they wanted to take. Both men looked up at the place that was their only real home. With a glance in one another’s direction they went their separate ways. Jose went to the car and got in. Robin was already in the Jeep waiting. Matt waved them on and went into the house. He opened up the knobs on the gas stove and blew out the pilot light for the water heater. He ran outside and waited for a bit. He could envision the gas slowly filling up the lower floors. The mason jar filled with gasoline in his right hand had an old rag for a wick. He lit it and threw it through the front door. It broke easily spilling its contents all over the wall and floor. Flames ate at the old wood and began to spread easily. Matt turned and ran as fast as he could. It took a bit longer for the whole works to go up than he thought. When it did it still picked him up and tossed him a couple of yards. He got up and dusted himself off. The first floor was a huge fireball. He imagined that the whole house would be gone before the volunteer fire fighters got here. A quick jog up the road and he jumped into the car. The backseat was filled with guns and ammo. Beefy back tires bit into the surface and the men were off. Robin had already driven on. Her part at this point was to secure a base of operations. The state line was only about two hours away and there were plenty of hotels along the interstate. She would get one and wait to hear from them. It gave her the distance she needed and she didn’t want any part of the testosterone laden events that were probably going to transpire. Besides, she could continue hacking through backtrails to see if the server that housed the drop box had any other secrets to reveal. The rumbling of the Cuda’s powerful engine was the only noise for some time. Its passenger and driver were both lost in their own world, but from time to time they would look back at the column of smoke that rose behind them. Eventually it became only a smudge on the horizon. They were passed by two of what Jose liked to call “Redneck Specials”, trucks that had every conceivable geegaw and bauble that a good ole boy would want. Both had stickers on them that proclaimed them to be part of the local volunteer fire department. “At least we gave them something to do besides hunting down innocent fauna.” Jose said, the first words in twenty minutes. Matt smiled, the barest sliver. “Yeah.” He looked in the rearview and caught a glimpse of the hardware in the back. “I prefer my prey to be a little less cute.” “So Matt, what do you think we’re facing here?” “Well bro, I don’t know. I mean I was convinced that Owen was a demon. And I was wrong. Then I was convinced that he was possessed. Maybe that was wrong too. There’s every possibility that I have more than a few screws loose. I do know that he was an incredibly bad man, evil as most men can be. And based on what you and I know of the world men like that rarely see the punishment they deserve in this life anyway.” “That makes you Frank Castle then?” Jose asked without any real malice. Matt shook his head. “I don’t want to think so. God didn’t send me to punish men. We need to leave that to him. I still think that there’s a purpose here though and I don’t think that Sanders is a man.” “Gets back to my original question then. What is he?” Jose kept an eye on the speed, not wanting to get stopped at this point. “I hesitate to guess. Given what happened the last time I did that, but I’ll take a stab. I think that he might be a son of Belial. Belial represents lust and greed and his offspring are responsible for taking men down that path.” “What makes you think that?” Jose was interested, but religious as he was he wasn’t ready to buy into the literal existence of demons. Matt blew out hard. “It’s difficult to condense all of my studies into an elevator pitch, but I’ll try. I still believe that there are evil creatures that exist in this universe of ours. We call them demons. Other cultures and religions have their own names for them. So all I have is a classification system that’s filtered through my research. Any demon that seems to push men to extremes in the direction of lust, greed, power hunger is a Son of Belial. Considering Owen’s desire for money and the defiling of children it makes sense.” “Assuming you’re correct then, what does that mean? Can he like breathe fire, or what?” Matt chuckled. “Well I don’t have a Monstrous Compendium, so details like that aren’t at my fingertips. Based on just what I’ve seen and experienced of Sanders I can guess that he doesn’t age, he’s tough and strong, and no doubt he’s an excellent con man. My research leads me to think though that even demons, provided they’re in physical form, can be killed. It may not be permanent, but I’m betting they don’t come back right away.” “So no fire, no brimstone, no magic?” “You sound disappointed. If it makes you feel better I think that magic is possible and there are creatures that can breathe fire and change shape. It just doesn’t happen that this is one.” Another laugh chuffed out. “This is the first time I’ve said most of this out loud and it’s pretty crazy. Look, Jose if this guy’s just a guy, like you and me, then we still take him down. If that’s the case I’ll sign into the first mental hospital we see. Deal?” “Deal.” Jose found some classic rock on the radio, bringing some mundanity to the atmosphere. A few minutes later his phone blasted out a tune of its own. He pulled over to the side of the road and checked it out. It was an email from the drop box. “Holy crap.” “What is it man?” Matt leaned over. “It’s from Sanders. He says that we need to meet him at this place at eight tonight.” “What’s the place?” “It’s Robin’s coffee shop. Why the hell would he want us to meet there?” Jose asked. Matt felt the pit of his stomach bubble. “I don’t know. I’m sure that he knows Robin isn’t there. Could be just a place to meet us or maybe he knows that he’s communicating with us and is calling us out.” “That or anything in between.” Jose put the car back in drive. “We need to do it, whatever the reason may be. Good thing is we can maybe get the jump on him, scope the place out first.” He handed Matt the phone. “Call Lee and let him know what’s going down. Get his take.” Matt dialed and waited. “This is Lee.” “Lee, it’s Matt. Where are you?” Lee sat behind the wheel of a Lincoln Continental that was almost as old as he was. “Visiting an old friend. What’s new on your end?” “We know that Sanders wants us to come to the coffee shop that Robin owns tonight at eight. We aren’t sure if he knows who he invited though.” “We have slightly bigger fish to fry.” Lee said. “What’s that?” Matt caught the genuine concern in the other man’s voice. Lee turned down the scanner. The Lincoln belonged to one of his Dad’s old cop buddies. One who hated what the force had become over the last couple of decades. “We’re both now wanted for the murders. Apparently, we’re also connected to the disappearance of Robin Delaney. You know where our little lady is?” “She should be safe and sound in a Motel 6 somewhere. I’ll check when we get off the phone.” “Good. I’m sure if they find her they’ll bring her in for questioning and something unfortunate will happen. Jose’s in the clear as far as I know since he hasn’t been made yet. We need to make sure that he stays that way.” “Well that’s up to him and knowing him as I do, he’ll want to be involved.” Lee sighed. “Okay well I’ll leave that to you. Eight o’clock you say. That gives us a considerable chunk of time, but we need to move carefully. Every cop in this city, good or bad, will be looking for us. They know what we look like, though not what we’re driving or even if we’re in the city. That gives us a slight edge. We stake out the coffee shop and try and get ready for what ever Sanders wants to dish out to us.” “All that and don’t get caught. God help us. Jose and I will meet you there in two hours. That’ll give us a chance to work some magic and maybe we can get some more information.” “Call me in two hours. We’ll work out some more details.” Lee hung up. “Jose, we need some camouflage. Lee and I are on the hot seat for everything bad that’s happened since the Great Depression. If I’m gonna operate I need cover.” “I think we can make that work.” The brothers slapped hands. “Sanders doesn’t know who he’s messing with. I say we teach him.” http://www.spiritualtramp.com/NaNoWriMoBlog/2006/11/chapter_25.html http://www.spiritualtramp.com/NaNoWriMoBlog/2006/11/chapter_25.html Mon, 27 Nov 2006 22:08:57 -0500 Chapter 24 Lee got into the black vehicle and cranked it up. It looked like the delivery van from hell and smelled equally bad. He pulled out and hit the highway with all the windows rolled sown or cracked. The ride into town gave him plenty of time to think. They all wanted to take Sanders down, but he needed to make sure that he got the information about Sara’s antidote and that meant having the man alive for a little while. As bewildering as the evidence they had was, it was still pretty telling and it all pointed to him being incredibly dangerous and intelligent. It was possible that he could convince them to take him in alive, but if Sanders was as connected as it appeared then that wouldn’t be any good. There was no east answer. In the meantime, no news form the hospital was good news or so he hoped. His anger burned again at the thought of her lying there. He was certain that it wasn’t a tenth of what those kids felt though. He pushed that aside again for now and tried to think of angles that would lead to all the good guys coming out of this unscathed. Too bad this wasn’t a movie. Of course these days in the movies the good guys were hard to tell apart from the bad. God, he was getting old. Lee arrived at the drop off point and exited the vehicle. The keys sat on the dash and the door was cracked. Finding a taxi at this early hour was a bear and he didn’t want to risk flagging down a patrol car. So he walked and as he did he decided to give him a call. The phone rang several time before Paul answered. “Lee?” He couldn’t believe his luck. “Hey Paulie. We need to talk. I’ve got some insight into the York situation and I want to share it with you.” Paul thought for a moment about how he wanted to play this. “You tell me where you want to meet.” “Why don’t you come and pick me up? I’m on foot right now. Let’s say Sammy’s Deli on Twenty-Fourth?” That would give Lee a couple of options for vantage points. “And Paulie? Come alone. No uniforms or anyone else. You’re the only one I trust with this.” “You got it. I know there are some problems in the force and I appreciate your trust.” Lee hung up and kept walking while he a second number. “Jose? Lee. Any leads on the Chief?” Jose smiled. “Well lets say that the chief was getting regular… donations from someone that I’m sure can be traced back to Owen given enough time. No specifics though and nothing to link him to Sanders.” “I don’t expect that you’ll find that link written down anywhere, but keep looking. I’m meeting with the Chief in a little bit.” “Good luck, Lee” Lee killed the connection and headed quickly to the meeting point. Paulie must have put the siren on because his official vehicle got there a little more quickly than Lee had anticipated. A quick look around didn’t reveal any cars. Given what Lee suspected he didn’t think that the Chief had any problems with the “No uniforms” requirement of their meeting. He walked to the passenger side, opened the door, and sat down. Paul DeWitt put the car in drive and started down the street. “So, talk to me Lee. What’ve you got?” “A whole lot of suspicion. For some reason it seems that someone wants some awful nice folks to take the fall for something they haven’t done. I’ve met with York and I’m sure that he did Owen and equally certain that he had nothing to do with the cops or the preacher.” Lee felt his revolver digging into his left side. It would be easy enough to get to if necessary, but he really didn’t want to shoot Paul. Paul looked over. “So you were with the man and didn’t arrest him for what you know he’s done?” He looked back at traffic. They were driving aimlessly for now, or so it seemed. “We got interrupted. I won’t go into that now, but the opportunity passed. He was able to give me excellent reasons to believe him and I think we should cut him a deal.” Lee stared straight ahead. “Well of course that would be up to the DA. All we can do is arrest him for what he’s charged with and then it’s out of our hands.” “I know better than that. You have enough pull that you can make some promises.” He turned his head and let his eyes bore into Paul. “But somehow I don’t think you will. I think you have a reason to see these folks go away. You’re involved aren’t you?” He worked hard to keep his tone even. It was hard. Dirty cops were the worst thing on the planet in Lee’s eyes. “Involved?” Paul slammed on breaks. There was no one behind them, or anywhere in site for that matter. He had navigated them through the maze of streets and they were outside a junkyard. “What the hell are you insinuating?” Sanders was right. It looked like he does know too much. Lee hit the release on his seat belt and pivoted his body. “I think you know. You’re in this up to your neck at least. We’ve known each other for what, fifteen years? I’ve always known that something wasn’t right with you, but now I have proof.” Paul wanted to grab his gun and empty it into Lee right now. “That’s a damn serious allegation you’re making. I could make similar ones about your relationship to this case and I could say a thing or two about how much your performance has decreased since Lucinda left you. I’ve done you favors Lee, because I like you. You had a lot of potential. You still do if you’ll just smarten up.” Lee leaned back against the door. “That sound suspiciously like an offer.” “You’re the one who’s in deep shit right now, not me. There are people that want you ruined, or dead, or both. I could stand between you and those people. What do you say?” “I say fuck that. I’ve met the people you’re associated with and frankly I’d rather rot in the ground.” His hand found the door latch and bailed out, rolling onto the sidewalk. Paul yanked his sidearm free and considered shooting but by the time he’d gotten his gun clear the door had swung closed and Lee was running into the junkyard. He pulled the mike from his dashboard. Then he put it back. He needed to be more subtle than that. Lee cleared the fence with some difficulty and ran deep into the twisted metal maze. Once he was relatively sure he wasn’t being followed he stopped and pulled out the cell phone. Jose answered on the second ring. “Go ahead Lee.” “Well I can say for sure that the Chief is in at least as deep as we think. I can be fairly certain that we’re all about to be on the most wanted list. You guys need to do your thing and move on. We’ll meet up later today.” Lee worked hard not to pant into the phone. “Okay. We’ve dropped the message off and are closing up shop even as we speak. We’ll be out in the next hour or so. Talk to you then.” Lee flipped his phone closed. He needed a ride and a change of clothes. His description would be all over the airwaves soon if it wasn’t already. Thankfully he already had an idea of someone who wouldn’t care about his status with the current regime. He waited a bit and then found a slightly easier way out of the old junkyard. ]]> http://www.spiritualtramp.com/NaNoWriMoBlog/2006/11/chapter_24.html http://www.spiritualtramp.com/NaNoWriMoBlog/2006/11/chapter_24.html Sun, 26 Nov 2006 20:51:25 -0500 Chapter 23 Typically, worry wasn’t in Sanders active vocabulary. By early the following morning he hadn’t started worrying yet, but Jordan checked in whenever the situation on a mission was stable and it had been over twelve hours since they had met on the parking garage. He knew that there were a dozen reasons for a communication breakdown, especially out in the boonies. Still it was probably time to cut his losses. If Jordan and his crew were successful then he could always come back and complete his business here after recruiting a replacement for Owen. If not then it would be wise to be elsewhere. Not that he was going to let Mr. York and friends off that easily. He placed a phone call to an unlisted number. Even at this hour he knew that it would be picked up. Chief DeWitt heard the annoying chirp of the gunmetal colored micro cell phone that was never far from his side. The damn thing was so small that it needed an external mike and earphone to really answer it and forget dialing. It used voice recognition for those few calls he made to the only person that mattered. He reached out from under the covers and grabbed the earbud. In a hushed voice he answered. “Tesseract.” “Promised one,” said Sanders completing the code. “We need to meet. One hour. The usual place.” He disconnected the call. Chief Paul DeWitt had been under the man he knew as Sander’s thumb since the day he had graduated from the Academy. He had committed a number of indiscretions involving prostitutes that would have ended his career before it began. Suddenly this man was in his life and made everything go away. Paul had risen fast through the ranks and had power that he only dreamed off. It wasn’t just the job, no. If he needed anything, near or far, he need only go through channels to the man and it was done. The only thing was it cut both ways. Paul hadn’t needed to do much and certainly nothing that had caused him to lose any sleep at least not these days, but Sanders creeped him out in a big way. Well he knew the penalty for being late, so he swung his legs out of bed, leaving his wife of thirty-five years sleeping. It was four-fifteen according to the clock on his bedside table, so dawn was still a good hour off. He dressed in a dark blue running suit and walked into his office. There he retrieved a Browning nine millimeter pistol and a warm jacket. He’d need the latter and had used the former a few times in his master’s service. A half hour ride to a city park and he stood under a huge oak tree waiting in the cold. A hood shielded his face from any onlookers, not that there were any at this hour. The wait seemed long, but he was sure that Sanders was on time. “Chief DeWitt.” The huge man’s voice rumbled the name. He was dressed in his usual dark suit and wore no overcoat. Nothing seemed to affect the man. “Sanders. What can I do for you sir?” He looked up into the impassive face. The day they had first met he looked just as he did now whereas Paul had gained wrinkle and a little weight and lost more than a little hair. Sanders enjoyed that part of his position most. The fealty, even worship from some of his darker companions warmed him. And he could see no reluctance or questioning in this law man’s face. He could probably ask DeWitt to shoot his own wife and he would. “As you know, this matter with York and Winston has gotten increasingly complex. I brought in some additional help and that may have resolved the matter, but one can never be too sure. An urgent matter calls me out of town and so I must make certain that if they fail, you will be able to clean it up.” “Of course.” Paul said quietly. He thought briefly about asking why Sanders hadn’t just left the whole thing to him, but the powerful man was no doubt wiser. “I want you to make sure that York and any friends he has that are involved go down for the crimes against the holy man, the police officers, and a rather large explosion that will be happening tonight.” He waited for the expected answer. It didn’t come right away. “Well?” “Yes sir.” DeWitt’s shoulders slumped. Sanders stepped closer. “What is it?” “Well I hate to bring it up, but Winston is a good cop. I’d hate to lose him.” He looked up. “Why would you lose him? What’s the situation on your end?” Sanders almost snapped. “It seems that a lady friend of his has inadvertently taken a poison of some sort. She’s in the hospital in pretty bad shape. He thinks it’s related to his investigation. Is it, sir?” asked DeWitt. Sanders nodded. “It was intended for him. He was to have taken it before he left the hospital. The individual responsible has failed.” “That explains it. He called in and said that someone tried to kill him. He’s going to try and find out who. I had a couple of uniforms check out his house and he’s left his badge and seems to have gone rogue. Combine that with the fact that he resisted the idea that York is responsible and it would seem he’ll come around to you and me eventually. I tried to pull him off, but once he gets on a trail he’s just like an old bloodhound. He won’t quit.” Sanders looked thoughtful. “Loyalty is a good thing, especially in out organization. We always reward it appropriately and punish for the lack of it. Don’t forget that you’re the one who said that he was not a good fit for us. Never forget that your first loyalty is to us and that any of your men are but pawns, to be used and thrown away as necessary.” DeWitt nodded. “And,” Sanders continued, “if he’s such a good cop it is possible that he already knows more about us than is good for him. That could endanger your position or perhaps your life. We can only protect those so far.” He didn’t mind explaining things like this to his underlings. Blind obedience was useful, but he found that even the flimsiest of rationalizations could get people to do all sorts of things. “It’s also possible that he has been converted to the zealot’s cause. If York was not afraid to kill Owens, what makes you think he wouldn’t kill you? Whether York knows it or not, he’s working for those that oppose us and as such his life and the life of any working with him are forfeit.” “You’re right. I’m sorry that I doubted you.” DeWitt bowed his head. “By going off on his own Lee’s been disloyal and must be dealt with.” Sanders raised DeWitt’s chin with the tip of his forefinger, like a father might do with his son. “It is alright. You’ve done well for us and your work will be rewarded. I do not doubt your devotion. Now go and set things in motion. If you need anything I will be available until late this afternoon.” He turned and walked towards the wrought iron gate. Sanders now focused on his next goal. He had acquired a silver Mercedes and a trunk full of supplies for tonight’s bon voyage. Destroying the coffee shop would certainly bring him a thrill. He would have to go underground for a little while after he left here. That always meant giving up a certain number of life’s little pleasures. If one were going to fast it was always nice to have a feast first. He recalled with some relish the face of the little red head and her black skinned beau. Hopefully they would be present, but if not he felt certain there would be someone to vent his homicidal desires on. http://www.spiritualtramp.com/NaNoWriMoBlog/2006/11/chapter_23.html http://www.spiritualtramp.com/NaNoWriMoBlog/2006/11/chapter_23.html Sun, 26 Nov 2006 20:49:55 -0500 Chapter 22 Robin washed her face and rinsed her mouth out for the fifth time. She had taken off her shirt and pants and rinsed out as much blood and vomit as she could. She stood in her underwear and bra, shivering even though the little space heater was cranked up as far as it could go. She’d never seen anything like before, never been shot at before, much less shot. Her face and shoulder still burned. “At least I don’t feel like I’m going to pass out.” The worst part though had been the look on Matt’s face as he gunned that man down. That was not the man she loved. Robin could well imagine that man shooting someone from the top of a building. For the first time she could see that he had done what he said he did. It was real to her in a way that it hadn’t been before. The question is what she should do with that. For now there wasn’t much choice. She was stuck here, stuck with friends and several dead bodies. Robin sat on the closed toilet and for the first time that day began to pray for sanity to return. Meanwhile out in the dining room, Jose, Lee and Matt looked at the mess. It was better than looking at each other. The smells of blood, vomit, and cordite from the gun fire permeated the room. Fresh air came in through the disintegrated bay window and out the sliding glass door frame. That helped more than a little but there were still two dead bodies and one on the way. Matt clung to the military resolve that he found that he needed for now. He stepped to Pasqaule’s prone form. The bleeding had stopped due to the makeshift tourniquets and towels, but his color was far from good. Unless they got him to an Emergency Room fast he was going to die. Since that was not an option he had to question the man and it wouldn’t be pretty. He was no expert in interrogation or torture. Lee read Matt’s face. “I’ll do it son. You boys take care of your Mom’s body and the other.” He saw relief in both Jose and Matt. Their new work would be dirty and dreadful, but easier. The detective walked up to the table’s head and lightly frisked Pasquale’s body. Without his Nomex cut proof gloves he didn’t like to pat anyone down, especially not psychos. There was nothing to mark his identity, no clothing labels, and no weapons. The last surprised him more than a little compared to the firepower held by his friend. “Did this joker have anything on him while he was outside?” Lee asked. Jose answered, “Only some of those night vision goggles.” “When you get a chance slip them on and have a look around. I’d like you to look for anything he might have had, anything he was carrying.” Lee turned his attention back to the unconscious man and slapped his face lightly. Pasqaule’s eyes fluttered open. He felt the weakest he ever had. The feeling of extreme blood loss was new to him personally, but he was well familiar with the textbook description. He saw an older man’s face peering down into his own. “Water please?” He was thirstier than he’d ever been. “I’ll give you some in just a while. First we need to have a little chat. You and your friends caused us quite a bit of trouble. We need to know who you are and why you were sent here.” He walked out of Pasquale’s field of vision and came back, a small sharp knife in his right hand. “I’m no angel, not like the woman you’re buddy killed. I’m willing to do what it takes to find out what you know, whatever it takes.” The crazy Italian wasn’t crazy about receiving pain. Something he saw in the man’s eyes reminded him of what he saw in his own when he looked in the mirror. Every part of him believed what the man said. Matt carried Mama’s body outside, wrapped in the tablecloth. He worked carefully to keep her covered. She was lighter than he thought she’d be. Jose grabbed a couple of shovels from the garden shed attached to the house. They met at the tree line and once her body was laid carefully aside they worked. Grief, anger, and pain were given catharsis in the work of making her grave. The soil was a little rocky at first. Grunting and the sound of metal biting into dark earth filled the air. They had sufficient light to work form the moon and stars. Between the two of them they made a hole big enough to serve as a temporary grave. Her two sons lowered her gently into place. “This won’t be the end for her brother.” Matt said. “We’ll have a big service for her, have all the family come and pay their respects even if we can’t be there for some reason.” “Yeah this ain’t over yet,” Jose agreed. “As God and the Blessed Mother are my witness, until some serious payback has been served, this ain’t over.” He looked from the mound of earth up to Matt. “I’ll have a look around and get any evidence up to the garbage pile. You do the same for the house.” Matt nodded. He went back to the porch and saw Robin sitting there. “Hello lady.” He resisted the urge to ask any of the dozen habitual and completely stupid questions that leapt to mind. She had managed to get dressed and walk out while looking at the ceiling. “Our friend the detective is having a discussion with that man you brought in.” She studiously avoided making eye contact with Matt, choosing instead to look for familiar constellations. “I want you to know that I meant what I promised earlier. I hate what has happened and what I’ve seen in you over the past few… God it’s only been two days, but I meant it. I will always love you.” “That’s more than I can ask, more than anyone deserves.” Matt said. “Just shut up for a minute. I wasn’t finished.” A harsh edge was in her voice. “We’re going to need some time apart. I don’t know if that’ll be forced on us by your going to prison,” her voice broke on the word, “or if you’ll somehow go free. I don’t care how it’s going to happen, but it will. Until then, I’ll help you in any way I can. Your mother deserves that and I don’t know what’s going on, but I feel like it’s the right thing to do.” Robin stood and straightened her still damp jeans. “Now I’m going to go into my bedroom and lie down. When you’re ready for me to help you can knock on the door and I’ll come out.” She turned and went back inside without waiting for a response. Matt wanted to be sad. He wanted to feel something. His mother was dead and the only woman he had ever loved couldn’t stand the sight of him. As it was he couldn’t stand himself, but there was work to be done. No time for self-loathing, at least not the sort that kept you from working, plenty of time for that later. He grabbed a tarp from the garden shed and went inside. Getting Jordan’s body on it was challenging. The big slugs had turned it into a messy affair. There would be a lot of mopping to do. After some struggle Lee came over to help him. “So did you get any useful information?” Matt asked. “Hopefully. No idea how truthful a word of it is. I got everything on my tape player and took some notes.” They each grabbed an end of the tarp and carried it outside. “He died on me a couple of minutes ago, while you and your lady where having a heart-to-heart out back. Lasted longer than I thought he would and was easier to… convince.” “I hope he’s rotting in Hell,” Matt said. Lee stared at Matt. “Well while you and I may have some differences when it comes to metaphysics, I can tell you that if there is a hell, he’s in it. He and his buddies work for a man they call Sanders. You and I call him Peterson. No doubt those are both aliases.” He didn’t tell him that Sanders held an antidote for Sara according to the freak, no reason to yet. “There’s more info that may help your computer-wise friends. Got that on tape.” They dropped Jordan’s body into a pit that served as a place to burn scraps, leaves, and where a number of bonfires had been held over the years. It was eight feet across and about a foot deep at its center point. There was a large pile of refuse already in place. They walked back towards the house, tarp slung between them. “What should we do Lee?” “Well I can tell you what I’d do if it were me. Burn the house down. Take these guys and whatever vehicle brought them here and dump it someplace, maybe burn it too. No ones gonna dig too deep into their deaths. In the right place it’ll be written off as a gangland thing. After that we deal with Sanders.” They put the sad little man’s body on the tarp and took it outside. They met Jose at the pile. “I found this on the body of the one I capped.” Jose held up the Mac 10. His other hand rose holding a small black bag. “This was near where I got jumped, haven’t looked in it yet. I didn’t feel up to dragging a headless corpse by myself so maybe you guys can get that.” He left his burdens by the pit. “I’ll take you up there.” Lee pulled a mini mag-lite from his pocket and let its light guide their steps. The three of them made short work of getting Ian and reuniting the three assassins. Jose hawked and spat onto the corpses. “So what’s the plan now?” “Lee’s got some ideas,” said Matt. “None of them are favorable, but under the circumstances they may be our only options. Jose, I need you to check and see if your friends’ efforts yielded any results. We may have enough information to get Sanders and take him all the way down. There’s still cleanup to do. I’ll take care of that. Lee maybe you can talk to Robin about the computer stuff. She wants to help where she can. I think I’m the last person she wants to see.” Jose’s heart broke again for his brother. He must feel responsible for all of this and in a way he was. Still it was nothing he could have foreseen. “Sounds like a start at least. If I stop moving and thinking now I may never start again.” The trio walked up to the house, a long night’s work stretching in front of them. http://www.spiritualtramp.com/NaNoWriMoBlog/2006/11/chapter_22.html http://www.spiritualtramp.com/NaNoWriMoBlog/2006/11/chapter_22.html Sun, 26 Nov 2006 20:46:58 -0500 Chapter 21 Jose and Lee stood under a good sized apple tree. They heard the barking, but it was far more distant. Nothing in the quality of noise alarmed them. “I sure hope the detective is almost done. It’s getting cold out here.” Matt said. “Oh Mr. Special Forces getting a little chilly?” Jose mocked. Matt punched his brother on the shoulder. “Well I’m not built like a tub of butter. You stay here. I’m gonna go up to the house and check things out.” He flattened himself to the ground and started to crawl. Jose rested his shotgun on his shoulder and chuckled a bit under his breath.
The ripping noise and the yelp that the dog made as Jordan yanked each front leg in the opposite direction was satisfying. He threw the carcass aside and pulled one of the flash bang grenades from his jacket pocket. It weighed a little more than a cricket ball and he’d need to be within about twenty meters to put it through a window. Jordan walked quickly through the tall grass, stopping when he came to its edge. He slid the goggles off his head and dropped them to the ground. Three vehicles were parked out front. Through the large kitchen window he could see a man, nicely backlit. Crossing the no man’s land of the mown grass without being seen would be impossible as long as that man was there. He waited and soon the man turned to sit back down. Seizing the opportunity, Jordan broke into a crouching run. He wouldn’t hit the circle of brightness until just about the time he was in throwing range. He wound up while he ran the last few meters and released the grenade. The sound of breaking glass startled all three occupants of Mama’s kitchen. The metal cylinder hitting the table registered as a grenade in Lee’s mind though he couldn’t tell what type. He leapt across the short distance to Robin intending to knock her down. It worked, though she and Mama were both caught in the million candle power flash that it released. The deafening noise, like all the sounds of a rock concert compressed into a tenth of a second caught them all, completely disorienting them. Jordan waited for the stun grenade to do its work. Then he leapt up onto the porch and kicked through the front door, covering the room with his mini-pump gun. A man and woman were tangled on the floor with a pistol near their heads. An old woman also lay on the floor near the wooden island. All three were moaning in pain and shock. All of this transpired while Matt was on his way to the sliding glass door. He saw the flash, but was far enough away to be dazzled only briefly. The solidly built house contained most of the concussive wave of sound, though it was still clearly audible. He knew well enough what it all meant. The ugly little automatic weapon was cradled in his arms. He thumbed off the safety and increased the speed of his crawl.
Jose saw all the commotion and wasn’t sure what to make of it. As the sound rolled up to him though he knew it couldn’t be good. He came out from the tree and just as he did he heard something snap just to his right and saw movement out of the corner of his eye. Pain shot up to his shoulder as he felt a blow connect with his arm. He lashed out with his left hand and felt it contact the person who’d attacked him. It was dark and he couldn’t see much, but a bit of moonlight glinted off something metal. Ian had hoped to cut the man’s arm off at his shoulder but he had moved at just the wrong time. Instead Ian’s fist had caught his upper arm. He had the advantage of being able to see, but the goggles didn’t give him very good peripheral vision. The surprise short punch hadn’t hurt him so much as it had surprised him. The short, fat man had a shotgun and was trying to backpedal and bring it into play. He just couldn’t have that. The machete swung up and caught the gun under its barrel sending it skyward. He followed that blow with a kick at Jose’s legs. The toe of Ian’s boot caught more shin than knee and Jose woofed in pain. Jose had managed to keep control of the gun and really wanted to use it, but needed to get some distance so it didn’t get slapped away. Whoever this was didn’t want to let him get that distance though. So he went the other way. He lowered his head and charged. Ian didn’t expect that angle of attack and wasn’t able to shorten up his swing. The machete went flying out of his hand and the two men went down in a splay of tangled arms and legs with a sawed off pump shotgun on the middle somewhere. Pasquale sat on his haunches and watched the fight between Ian and Jose unfold. He may be crazy but he wasn’t stupid. Getting in the middle wouldn’t help anyone.
Lee’s vision came back and he looked for his pistol. He reached for it but a booted foot kicked it away. Through the ringing in his ears he could hear a man yell “Stay down!” He did, but rolled over so he could get a look at the assailant. That earned him a kick to the ribs. The man standing above him was holding a Mossberg Super-Shorty. It would turn Lee’s head into a red stain at this range and probably Robins as well considering how close they were. Jordan nudged the revolver with his foot, getting it to a place where he could bend down and still keep an eye on the man. With the revolver tucked safely in his belt he stood. Jordan spoke loudly and clearly. “Put your asses in the chairs if you can hear me.” Lee helped Robin up and put her in a chair. Her vision had returned too but she was still a little disoriented and confused not to mention afraid. He saw the semi-automatic pistol was still clipped to her waist and kept well clear of it. He turned and sat down himself. From his vantage point he could see that Mama wasn’t moving. “Take that holster off your belt, bitch. Move slow.” Jordan gestured with the pump gun. Robin complied. Putting it on the dining room table and sliding it toward their assailant. She was scared and mad and sick all at the same time. Jordan walked over to the old lady. She was still down. He toed her head firmly and saw blood seep out from under. He looked at the island and saw blood on its corner. It did look like she was still breathing. He looked at Lee and Robin. “Where’s Matt York?” “He’s not here,” Robin said. Jordan dropped the muzzle of his shotgun on level with Mama’s head. “I’ll try this one more time. Where the fuck is Matt York? I here anything but a true answer here and the old bag gets her head removed.” In the back of his head he was wondering where his boys were.
At that moment one of them was trying to wrestle control of a shotgun from Jose. The Mac dug into Ian’s side as he was pinned to the ground. Desperate to keep the shotgun away, Ian bit Jose on the forearm. His teeth were sharpened thanks to some careful filing and he got a chunk of flesh. Jose screamed and wrenched back ripping the skin and tissue away. He stood, powered by adrenaline. “Eat this bitch” he yelled and triggered a shotgun round into the psycho’s head. Bone, blood and brain matter blossomed into a gruesome flower. Pasquale had taken that as a sign to disappear into the trees.
Everyone at the house heard the shotgun blast at the same time. Jordan’s went off, almost an echo of Jose’s. The pellets ate their way through her and continued on through the floor. Robin vomited into her lap. Lee, who would wish to his last day that he had done so earlier, launched himself across the table scooping up the Mk. 23. Jordan worked the slide on his gun and turned as he heard the sliding glass door shatter behind him. Bullets from the large caliber handgun and the UMP submachine gun competed for space in the thug’s body. Blood spray filled the air around Jordan. The twitching caused him to pull the trigger on his twelve gauge and random shot filled the air. It blew the rest of the window out and Robin screamed shrilly as some of them found their way into her arm and shoulder. Matt walked through the hole that his initial shots had made and followed Jordan’s body to the ground. He stopped firing once the man who had killed Mama was no longer recognizably human. He might have kept going if the bolt hadn’t slid open once the magazine had run dry. Lee saw the look on Matt’s face and was amazed at the calmness there. It was more horrifying than any mask of rage would be. He left his borrowed pistol lying on the hardwood and swung himself off the table. “I think we got him man. You can put the gun down.” Matt looked down at his hands. His right index finger was still curled tightly around the trigger. He dropped the gun and looked around, taking stock. Mama was dead. Robin was bleeding from a shoulder wound. Lee looked unharmed. Jose. Where was Jose? Then he remembered the first shotgun blast. “Look after Robin.” He drew his pistol from its holster at the small of his back and ran into the night.
Jose heard the answering gunfire from the house and ran towards it chambering his next round. He and Matt met about halfway. “What happened?” asked Matt. “Some freaky fucker jumped on me. Bit a chunk out of my arm. He’s over there somewhere trying to find his brains.” Matt saw movement over Jose’s shoulder. Someone was running along the line of apple trees. Matt’s night vision was excellent, but the range made any kind of aimed shot impossible. “Come on. Someone else is back there.” He didn’t wait, but ran on his gun stretched out in front of him. Pasquale was running, sweating, and swearing. He’d gone into the trees only to run into a couple of big ass dogs. They were after him hard. He though maybe he could outrun them for a bit and find a tree to climb or something. That thought was cut short when he heard the gun shots and felt his knees explode. The dogs were on him in a second, tearing at his clothes and what was left of his legs. Matt watched him scream and squirm for a few seconds before he called the dogs off. “Let’s drag him inside. I want to ask him some questions before he bleeds out.” They each took an arm and carried him. Lee looked at Robin. She’d calmed down, stopped screaming at least. “It’s not bad miss. Just about a dozen or so pellets. The doctor’ll be able to get them out.” Robin went to the bathroom to clean herself up. She managed to get there without looking at the bodies. Lee found a table cloth and covered Mama G up. He was finishing up as the boys came in carrying a body. “What the fuck? Who’s this?” “Part of this posse we guess,” answered Jose. He knew who was under the cloth, but didn’t want to think about that right now. Still tears came, unbidden. They put the man on the table. He was bleeding profusely from his legs. Matt took off his belt and gestured for Jose to do the same. He made tourniquets and managed to slow the flow for now. Once that was done he looked at Lee. “You going to arrest me or help me take this man down.” Lee stuck out his hand. “Truce.” Matt shook it. “For now,” finished the detective. ]]> http://www.spiritualtramp.com/NaNoWriMoBlog/2006/11/chapter_21.html http://www.spiritualtramp.com/NaNoWriMoBlog/2006/11/chapter_21.html Wed, 22 Nov 2006 13:17:31 -0500 Chapter 20 Matt had retrieved a pair of powerful binoculars from Jose’s kit and stood looking out the window into the waning light. One hand rested on the butt of the powerful submachine gun slung against his side. “So run down what you’ve found out, Jose.” Jose sat as his computer while Mama and Robin worked on dinner. “Well regarding any FBI agent that matches the description you gave, that’s a definite no. You’re right that was probably a fake. The hospital indicates that Detective Winston was releas