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Siren Hunter- Resurrection

Page 15

by J G Barber


  Paul grabs one of the DPVs and checks the instrumentation and controls. “These are cool.” He jumps in the water to test out the new toy.

  Leucosia takes the stage as the full complement of siren potentials forms up on the dance floor. The seven sisters station themselves equidistant from each other, in a circle around them. El Aniquilador and El Jefazo watch the proceedings on the wall TV in his second floor office.

  As the last stragglers step onto the clay, Leucosia leads with a siren song of transformation, the final preparation of their Sirenian genes for what lies ahead. The seven sisters join in with Leucosia, creating a resonant force field of sound so strong that every woman in the center feels it impact their heart, their solar plexus and their pelvis. For those whose biology has accepted the call, life force surges through their bodies as a cellular change takes place. The rest cry as they subconsciously recognize they will not transform into sirens.

  “Magnificent,” El Aniquilador says, fixated by the video, moved to tears by the awesome beauty of the song.

  El Jefazo feels the song the way the potentials do. It stirs the cells of his body. He checks his body to confirm that nothing is changing, and checks El Aniquilador to make sure he remains focused on the television screen. For the first time, El Jefazo realizes he has the potential to become one of them.

  Leucosia and the seven sisters change the tenor of the song, motivating the women to move together in a primal, synchronized dance of thanksgiving to Great Mother. The eight sirens turn to the towering Serpent Goddess statue behind the stage as they sing. The women whose full potential was just awakened dance together as one, swaying their bodies and hands in perfect unity. Those whose genes did not answer the call cannot keep up with the dance. They notice each other in contrast to the women who move together. A wave of anxiety passes through the group, amplified by the song, disrupting the harmony of the true potentials.

  They shift the octave of the song again, into a calming lullaby, continuing until the group’s anxiety dissolves away. The song restores whose genetics accepted their destiny to a state of gratitude and stabilizes those whose genes rejected it. “Let us give thanks to Great Mother for today’s blessings,” Leucosia announces. “It is done, my sisters! We are ready.”

  “Thank you, Great Mother,” the women say together in reverence, bowing to the statue. The group exchanges wave after wave of full body hugs and passionate kisses.

  “The celebration begins!” Leucosia shouts. Suvanna, Mami and Sirena follow Maraja on stage as Leucosia steps down from the stage to join Monica-Lorelei, Jiao and Narmaya near the door of her chamber.

  The cartel servants bring out trays of fruit, drugs and alcohol. Maraja orchestrates the music, Suvanna and Siren orchestrate the lighting, and Mami takes center stage to dance with wild abandon. The chosen potentials follow Mami’s lead or gravitate to the trays of fruit and to share a joint of the Y Griega as they dance. The rest of the women swarm the cocaine and alcohol to get numb and enjoy their last dance party with the sirens.

  Monica-Lorelei opens the chamber door. Jiao and Narmaya step in, followed by Leucosia. “What is the final count?” Leucosia asks.

  “One hundred and twenty-three,” Jaio replies.

  Narmaya nods. “I concur.”

  “The golden number,” Lorelei says. “Perfection. The prophecy is fulfilled.” Monica-Lorelei opens her arms wide, inviting the others to join her in a group hug. The four sirens exchange a circle of kisses.

  “Our destiny awaits us, sisters,” Leucosia proclaims. “All our hard work has paid off.”

  The dance party displays on the wall TV as El Aniquilador paces the room as El Jefazo studies the dancers and their patterns of fruit, drug and alcohol consumption. “What is the final count?” he asks.

  El Jefazo turns to face him. “One hundred and twenty-three danced together when the sirens sang their final song. That leaves one hundred and twenty-eight to join the ranks of our new exclusive service.” He points to the screen. “Their behavior reveals their choice. The chosen ones do not partake in the tequila or la cocaína. Our new commodities are the ones getting wasted.”

  El Aniquilador observes the women’s behavior on-screen. “Excellent. Let them men have their fun with them tonight. We will return to the safe house to prepare.”

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  The siren hunters emerge from the lake at the end of the final day of training. As they remove their scuba gear, the satellite phone rings. Paul grabs it. “What’s the news?”

  “Get over here,” Ellen says. “Your son will be born soon.”

  “We’re on our way.” Paul turns off the phone. “My son has excellent timing.”

  “Load up,” Sorcerer says. “Let’s take the man to meet his son.”

  Sorcerer and Clive shake the water off the scuba equipment and load it into the Jeep. Paul and Alexei break down the campsite. In fifteen minutes, they are ready to go.

  The men board the Jeep and head out. Sorcerer turns down a dirt road into a wide canyon. They follow along a river until they arrive in a small village far off the beaten path. They drive through, continuing into the hills to the border of a private villa tucked into the narrowing end of the canyon. Earth brick walls surround the property.

  Ellen greets them at the gate. Paul notices for the first time how much her physique has changed since she arrived in Mexico. She’s slim, muscular, and has a sparkle in her eyes. The traditional Mexican colors she’s wearing bring out her beauty.

  Once the Jeep is inside, Ellen secures the gate, and Paul gives her a hand on board. She squeezes in back between Alexei and Clive. They drive forward to the main house, an 18th century villa restored by someone with money. Sorcerer parks the Jeep in front of the main entrance.

  Ellen leads the men into the villa. It’s a simple, colorful decor. Paul studies the man sitting on the couch facing the patio and expansive back yard. “Warren?”

  Warren turns to face them. “Paul! Clive! Small world.” The three men exchange hugs.

  “Let me guess,” Paul says.

  Warren responds with a full body nod. “You are correct, sir. My father owns this place.” He becomes serious. “Hey, you haven’t seen Narmaya and her friends, have you? We came up here for a few days after the beach party. They took off for a girls day out. Haven’t seen them since.”

  Paul and Clive exchange a look. “Holy shit,” they say in unison. “How much does he know?” Clive asks Sorcerer and Alexei.

  Sorcerer lays his arm over his shoulder. “I’ve known Warren since he was he was born, and his father even longer. We can trust him.”

  Warren grabs Clive by the shoulders. “OK, fill me in here. What do I not know?”

  “Narmaya didn’t listen to me.” Clive looks away as he chokes back a wave of emotion. “She and her girlfriends got tangled up with a bad crowd.”

  Warren looks to Paul. “The cartel?”

  “Yes,” Paul says. “The cartel is involved.”

  “We have to go get her!” Warren heads down the hall and returns with a backpack. “Come on, let’s go!”

  Clive intercepts him at the front door. “Brother, it’s more complicated than that. She’s involved with a group of sirens we’ve been hunting for some time. These gals are extremely dangerous.”

  “Sirens as in sirens of the seas luring sailors to their death?” Warren sees Paul and Clive are dead serious. “No way. Dude, she’s like my best friend.” He looks to Sorcerer for a different answer, but doesn’t get it. “No, no, no, no, no, no. Sirens are part of some Greek myths and shit. They’re just characters in games and TV shows. They’re not real.” He stumbles backward and falls onto the couch, overwhelmed with cognitive dissonance.

  Ellen seizes the opening to pull Paul away from Warren’s meltdown. “Laura’s back here.” She leads him down a long hallway on the opposite side of the villa from where Warren went to grab his backpack.

  Clive attempts to ease Warren through the realization. “Think about it, ma
te. Narmaya is different, isn’t she?”

  “Yeah she is. I’ve never met anyone like her. She’s been obsessed with that whole mermaid thing for as long as I’ve known her.” Warren puts the pieces together. “No fucking way. She’s a siren?”

  “Yep,” Clive says. “Broke my fucking heart when I found out.”

  “Shit.” Warren digests this revelation about his dear friend. His cognitive dissonance fades, replaced by a realization that he always knew this truth about Narmaya, he just never stopped to think about it before now. “What about my other friends?”

  “Paul saw them with a group of a couple hundred women the sirens lured to an island off the coast.” Clive gives Warren time to come to terms with what happened. “The sirens and the cartel both have plans for your friends. We’re in the middle of a fucking war. The cartel already tried to kill us. Twice.”

  “This is like something from a fucking movie.” Warren grabs his backpack. “I want in. Let’s go!”

  Sorcerer speaks to Warren in a fatherly tone. “We need you to hold down the fort here. If the cartel shows up, shut the place down. Hide in the wine cellar. Seal yourselves in and don’t come out until we return.”

  Warren nods agreement. “What are you guys gonna do?”

  “We’re going underwater across a mile-long lake to the submerged entrance of an ancient Atlantean pyramid to stop the sirens from transforming themselves and all those women into siren breeders,” Clive says.

  Warren’s head swings back and forth in denial. “I need a fucking joint.” He heads for the patio. “You in, Clive?”

  “No, mate. Game on.” He rests a hand on Warren’s shoulder.

  Warren motions to the kitchen. “Kitchen’s fully stocked. Help yourselves.” He grabs what he needs from his hiding place under the patio and heads out into the back yard to light up his joint.

  Ellen and Paul stand next to Laura’s bed in a sunlight-filled room equipped with medical gear. Laura stirs to consciousness. Paul sits next to her and takes her hand. “How are you?”

  She answers with her eyes. Get this kid out of me.

  Paul looks to Ellen. “How much longer?”

  “Should be any day now,” Ellen explains. “Her body’s getting ready.”

  We can’t sit around here for day waiting for Jason to be born, Paul thinks to himself. Laura nods off again. Ellen motions Paul to leave her be.

  They return to the central room. Ellen checks out the men. They look droopy from not refueling after a day of diving. “Suppertime.” She ushers them into the kitchen to create a Mexican feast.

  El Aniquilador and El Jefazo sit together in silence, in the living room their safe house apartment on the outskirts of Ixtapa. It’s a simple and elegant place with few furnishings. The leader of the Cartel Nuevo Ciglo and his number one meet here to discuss ideas, strategies and plans for expanding the global reach of the cartel and adding new lines of business. Today, as has been the case every time they’ve met since the sirens arrived, they discuss their plans for the sirens and their new sex slaves.

  El Jefazo breaks the silence. “The chessboard is set, El Jefe Superior.”

  “Review the preparations one more time,” El Aniquilador commands in a soft, compelling voice.

  “La policía will run patrols from the marina to the site. They will intercept any rivals or witnesses. Our women will travel to the marina. Two school busses will deliver them to the site. La Jefa and her seven closest will travel by helicopter. She will demand that the seven enter the pyramid first, before the women arrive. We will accommodate. Once all eight of them have completed the process, we will execute your plan.”

  El Aniquilador nods approval. “And the hunters?”

  El Jefazo grins. “Our best divers will be armed and ready.”

  El Aniquilador retrieves a box of cigars, a cutter, and two lighters from his desk. He picks one from the box and cuts off the tip. El Jefazo lights the cigar for him. “Let us celebrate the dawn of a new era for Cartel Nuevo Ciglo. Our customers will pay top dollar to do whatever they wish with our young beauties.” He hands a cigar to El Jefazo.

  El Jefazo cuts and lights his cigar. “An important strategic move, El Jefe Superior. With legal cannabis in many countries including our own, and competitors introducing legal sex robots, our continued expansion requires new market offerings for our wealthiest clients.”

  “I care about one thing only. Control.” El Aniquilador taps the first stack of ashes into a large ashtray on the coffee table. “My predecessors lost it. Their downfall came from their addiction to violence and a complete and total failure to think like modern international businessmen. New times require new approaches. We are in the business of addiction, like many of the top companies in the world. We cannot become like the addicts we serve.” His eyes drill into El Jefazo’s. “You helped me understand that we can become a world-class business by exercising total control over our most lucrative markets, using violence only when necessary. You are an educated man, El Jefazo. For that, I am grateful.”

  El Jefazo taps his ashes into the ashtray and tips his cigar in acknowledgement. “It is only possible through your vision and courage, El Aniquilador.”

  “Leave me,” El Aniquilador commands. “I must prepare before we go to the site.”

  El Jefazo excuses himself to the balcony of the adjacent room. He looks out over the resort area and the ocean, enjoying his cigar and the view. His moment spoils as El Jefazo considers again if the siren hunters pose a real threat to their plan. He can’t shake the feeling of danger when he thinks about Paul.

  El Aniquilador withdraws a rectangular item wrapped in cloth from the wall safe. He sets it down on his desk and unwraps it with great care and reverence. He reveals a portable touchscreen display from the pyramid. When he touches the screen, his face displays back to him. Light emits from the screen to scan his face. The screen dissolves into vertical rows of Atlantean symbols along the sides and a square holographic map of the pyramid. El Aniquilador utters a command in the Atlantean tongue, and a holographic image of the transformation lab pops up out of the display, its four layers of outer doors sealed. He taps the top right symbol on the screen and repeats another Atlantean command until he gets the enunciation right and the lab doors open.

  Paul paces around Laura’s hospital room at the villa, alternating focus on her and the outside view. He can’t shake the feeling of an imminent event at the pyramid. They are about to make their move. I can’t miss the birth of my son. But if I’m not there to stop them, the sirens will win. Or the cartel will win. Either way, we’re fucked. He sits by Laura’s bed, cradling her hand in his. “How’s Jason doing?”

  “He’s ready,” Laura says. “I’m ready. Why this is taking so long?”

  “How much longer?” Paul asks Ellen.

  Ellen checks the monitors tracking Laura’s vitals. “I don’t know.”

  Paul jumps out of his chair. “You’re a fucking nurse! You must have some idea.”

  “Dude! The baby. Chillax.” Ellen motions Paul through the familiar breathing exercise.

  Paul exhales and performs the exercise. “Can you give us a few minutes alone?”

  “Sure.” Ellen closes the door behind her.

  Paul lays a hand on Laura’s cheek. “I have to go.”

  She connects with his eyes. “They’re about to make their move, aren’t they?” Paul nods. She squirms in the bed, trying to find comfort by reseating herself. “You’re right, you have to go.”

  “I know our time in Mexico has been difficult,” he says. “And everything I’ve done has been difficult for you to find peace with. But my love for you hasn’t changed. I made my choice. I want to be here for you and for Jason’s birth with all my heart.”

  She smiles. “We both know what we signed up for. Go finish this and hurry back to meet your son.”

  He kisses her on the lips. Paul heads for the kitchen where the men finish the sumptuous meal Ellen prepared.

  “What’s th
e word, mate?” Clive asks.

  “Time to go.” Paul walks over to Warren, his arms spread over the arms of the couch, finding no solace in his high. “Warren, keep your shit straight until we return.”

  “Yes, sir.” Warren salutes him. “Officially on duty.”

  Sorcerer, Clive and Alexei take their last bites and head for Jeep.

  El Anciano accompanies them to the Jeep. He addresses Sorcerer. “I must remain here to assist in the birth.” They share a heartfelt handshake. As the four siren hunters board, they share a wave of fear as the reality of what they are about to face hits them hard. El Ancient reassures them. “May the spirit of Kukulkan fly with you and protect you on your journey, siren hunters.” He returns inside the villa. The engine roars as the Jeep lurches into the driveway.

  About three hours later, the Jeep arrives at their lakeside point of entry for the long swim to the underwater pyramid entrance. The men gear up and check each other’s setups. “We’re ready.” Sorcerer arms each of the men with spear guns and waterproof rifles. “If we meet resistance, do not hesitate. Shoot to kill.”

  Paul grabs his DPV. He’s the first in the water. “Let’s do this.” The others follow. Together, they submerge, light up their forward beams, and dive deep for the one-hour propeller ride to the pyramid entrance. As the DPVs propel the siren hunters deep into the lake, Paul centers himself to tune in to what’s ahead. He senses a trap ahead for the sirens and the siren hunters. He sees El Jefazo in his mind’s eye. What did we miss? What did I miss?

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Leucosia and the seven sisters look down on the docks from the patio deck as the cartel guards herd the potentials onto two party boats. Unbeknownst to the women, one boat will transport the potentials and the other the rejects. They agreed with El Jefazo and El Aniquilador to make the transport journey on the second boat a party, to distract the women who did not pass the potentials’ test from their inevitable fate.

 

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