Artful Evil

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Artful Evil Page 12

by C. G Harris


  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Judas stood there for a moment like that, hunched over his desk, hands pressed to the surface, as his brain built up enough pressure to pop off like Mt. Vesuvius. I didn’t move either. Fear concreted my entire body, keeping me from scampering like a scared, little guinea pig or sitting back down in the chair.

  The stalemate was broken when Judas picked up his heavy, marble inkwell and hurled it across the room, shattering the glass dome he had so carefully placed over the sculpture we had admired just a few minutes earlier.

  “Do you have any idea what sort of jeopardy you have put this program in?”

  I started to nod in agreement, but Judas held out a finger, all but daring me to utter even a single word.

  “I have operated the Denarii Division for thousands of years and never has an Agent drawn the eye of The Council. Not by accident and certainly not on purpose.”

  Judas screamed the last two words so loud spit came out of his mouth, and the veins in his head pulsed with each syllable.

  I wanted to say we hadn’t run into Simeon and Mr. Beelz on purpose, but it didn’t matter. We had talked to them. We could’ve turned around and walked the other way. But we hadn’t, and that was the problem. I started to make my plea anyway, but Judas’s glaring eyes made me clamp my mouth shut so tightly my teeth clacked together.

  “The Council of Seven is the most powerful entity in The Nine, next to the devil himself.” Judas drove his fist into the desktop again. “And Mr. Beelz. Do you have any idea who that is? Does that name ring any bells for you? Robert Beelz? Bob Beelz? Beelz, Bob?

  My face got tight with concentration, then fear and realization dawned. “Beelzebub.”

  It was a statement, not a question.

  The right hand to Satan himself. Second in charge and the uppermost general. Prince of the underworld. Beelzebub could have destroyed Alex and I with a thought.

  The Council of Seven seemed like a dangerous organization, but until now, it had been more like a foreign government. They could be intimidating but too far removed to worry about. I had just walked straight into the Nazi camp and invited Hitler over for matzah balls and gefilte fish. Judas was right. My arrogance had shoved me way past the line on this one.

  “I’m sorry.” It was all I could think to say. It wasn’t enough.

  “Sorry?” Judas paced out from behind his desk. He looked like he wanted to tear the walls down. He paused, glaring up at Procel. For a moment, I thought he might take his frustration out on the stoic Hellion, but apparently even Judas wasn’t that insane.

  Procel stood like a statue, never moving, but somehow even he wore the revolted expression of a persecutor. Mastema tracked me with her blindfold gaze as always, grinning her murderous grin. I had no idea which was worse.

  “Operating with The Council’s eye lurking over us will be all but impossible. Up till now, you have only managed to jeopardize your own missions, now you have jeopardized every mission, every Agent I have in the division.”

  I finally slumped back down in my chair, staring at the ground, not knowing what to say. Judas stood in silence for a moment as well, his back to me, face to the ceiling, then he sighed and raised a single finger.

  “Mastema, if you please.”

  My eyes went up to the predatory looking demon crouched opposite him. Before I could react, her black leathery wings unfurled, and she pounced. Mastema was on top of me before I could even get out of my chair. She moved so fast it was inhuman. A streak of shadow rather than a proper assault. The talons on her feet hit me hard in the chest, knocking me backward over the chair, and she landed on top of me, perched on my body like a bird on a log.

  I covered my face with my hands, expecting slashing blows from her sharpened claw fingers but none came. Instead she just stood there, crushing the air out of me with a grin on her face.

  When she moved her arm, I jumped in spite of myself, but instead of tearing flesh from bone, she plucked the tiny lapel pin I wore off my shirt and tossed it to Judas.

  With her task done, Mastema leaned down close to my face, sniffing at the air that surged out of my lungs. I tried to turn away, even throw her off, but she dug her taloned feet into my chest and held on like a bull-rider, forcing me flat every time I attempted to twist out from under her weight.

  She caressed the side of my neck with a claw, then just as she began to dig in, Judas cleared his throat. “That will be enough.”

  Mastema let out a disappointed little coo then pushed off to glide back to her post behind Judas’s desk again.

  I laid there for a moment, trying to control my breathing, and checked my neck and chest for claw shaped puncture wounds. When I didn’t find any, I sat up and got to my feet.

  Judas held the pin Mastema stole from me in his fingers. He displayed it in the air, teeth bared like an angry wolf. “Since you cannot rule your urge to get into mischief, I will keep this until I believe you are able to follow orders over emotion.”

  It was in that instant that I realized what he had stolen away from me. The tiny lapel pin looked unassuming enough. No one would think twice about it, but that pin meant everything to a Judas Agent. It was their passport to the Envisage Splice Transporter. Without that pin, the nausea elevator wouldn’t work. I could no longer go Topside, at least not alone, and right now, that posed a huge problem.

  “Please, you can’t do that. I didn’t mean to run into Beelzebub. It was just bad tim—”

  “You wouldn’t have run into him at all if you had followed my order to leave Simeon alone.”

  Judas was back to shouting again. This definitely wasn’t going the right direction. I almost reminded him that Alex was with me so taking my pin away would only be half the punishment, but I managed to clamp my lips shut before my mouth dug a bigger hole for me to fall into. That didn’t stop the panic I felt though. Without that pin, I couldn’t go Topside alone. That meant I couldn’t go up and prevent Alex’s train from derailing in the town. I had to go Topside and sabotage the project, or a lot of people were going to die.

  My mind raced for an answer. I couldn’t plead with Judas to let me go. He was all pro-train crash. Smash and grab wasn’t the answer either. The only thing getting smashed would be me.

  Judas sealed my fate when he opened a small box on his desk, dropped the pin inside, and slammed the top shut. I heard the heavy, metallic click of a lock and knew it would take more than a set of nimble fingers to open it again.

  “Get out of my office and pray that I do not decide to do more.”

  I stood up and started to make one last plea for my pin, but Judas cut me off.

  “If you disobey orders again, I can assure you this pin will be the last thing you’ll be worried about. Now get out.”

  I headed toward the door and thought about his words. How far would Judas go to punish me? How creative could he get with his punishments? The thought sent a chill up my spine. Had he ordered me to carry out Alex’s train derailment or did he just say it was a good idea? As I walked out the door, I couldn’t remember. Either way, the point was moot. If I didn’t find a way to go Topside on my own, the derailment would happen according to Alex’s plan, and there would be nothing I could do to stop it.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  After my friendly chat with Judas, I wasn’t quite ready to call it a night. It was still early, so I decided to hop on my wonder tricycle and pedal out to the shop to pay Zoe a visit.

  I pumped my legs and realized I had more than a little energy left in the tank. Something that should have been long empty considering the brain mashing hangover I had had when I arrived at Judas’s office. I felt great. More than great. I felt like I could ride to my shop and back a dozen times without breaking a sweat. I would have to ask what those special aspirins contained. Whatever it was, I wanted a case of them.

  I sped through Scrapyard City in record time and found the shop windows and door open. Someone was home, although, whoever it was must have been in the back, chec
king stock.

  I ambled up to the door and banged my fist on the outside of the wall. “Hey there, strangers. Anyone home?”

  Zoe appeared from the back, tripping in as if she had sprinted through the door and realized she had to stop at the last second.

  “Hello. Hi.” She shot me a jerky wave. “What are you doing here? You never stop by this late. Is something wrong?”

  I raised my eyebrows. “Wow, that’s a lot of questions. I’m good. Just stopped by to see how you were doing. You look a little uptight. Is everything okay with you? Where are Jazzy and Meg?”

  “I’m fine. Just checking the stock. They are out for a walk. You know, getting some air.”

  I screwed up my face in concern. “Two women out for an evening stroll in the picturesque streets of Scrapyard City? Are they trying to get kidnapped?”

  Zoe rolled her eyes. “Stop trying to be our big brother. We can take care of ourselves.”

  I held up my hands in placation. “Just making an observation. Sue me for being concerned.”

  Zoe deflated a little and leaned against the door, looking a little more relaxed. “Sorry. I guess I’m a little sensitive. I didn’t mean it. They’ll be fine. They have the Blood Rakes hidden under their sleeves. If anyone gives them trouble, they’ll be in for a big surprise.”

  Blood Rakes were a Hellion weapon we acquired when we had fought my cousins at the Skin Quarries several months ago. A hard-earned spoil of war and deadly gauntlet style hand to hand weapon. Zoe was right. Anyone messing with them would get a face full of unfriendly in a hurry, no matter who they were.

  “So, what brings you by this late?” Zoe asked. “Don’t tell me you were just in the neighborhood. I hear you scored an apartment in that fancy tower at The Judas Agency.”

  That stung a little. I hated to think of my friends sleeping out here in the wastes while I relaxed in safety. At least they had the shop. It had served me well for almost forty years. It would do the same for Zoe and her friends.

  “Apartment might be a strong word. It’s more of a human-sized drainage pipe, but it’s comfortable.” I looked around. “It doesn’t have the character of this place though.” I smiled at her and touched her arm. “How are you doing?”

  “I’m good; business is good,” she said. “You know, even though you’re a big Judas Agent with your own fancy place, it doesn’t mean you can’t come hang out here.”

  “I will make a point to stop by more.” I paused for a second. “I ran into a friend of yours. Marcus Trainer? The name ring a bell?”

  Zoe tried to hide it, but I saw ever muscle fiber in her body stand on end. Her eyes would not come up to meet mine, and she began to fiddle with her fingers like a kid who had just been caught in a lie.

  “It was an idea I had, but it didn’t work out.” I let the silence play out between us and then she continued. “To be honest, I thought a lot about our talk last time you were here, and you were right. All of these rescue missions are only risking the people I care about. It isn’t helping anyone and saving those Disposables is going nowhere.”

  Zoe finally lifted her head and met my eyes. Hers were full of tears, and it broke my heart to see her that way. “I’m not going to do it anymore. I am through rescuing Disposables from the Skin Quarries. I’m not picking fights with The Wax Worx. My plans are here at the shop, helping where I can, when I can, with the Woebegone who survive around here.”

  I wanted to rejoice at her words, but I could see the turmoil warring within her. She wanted to save them all, but we were in The Nine. There was no way to rescue everyone. It was barely possible to save a few.

  “I know this isn’t what you wanted, but this shop is a way to help. It doesn’t break people out of cages, but this place does give the Woebegone here something better. It gives them the power the take control of their existence. Part of it anyway. They can find something useful to do and earn a little piece of life in return. I know that doesn’t seem like a lot, but it matters. I’ve seen more than one soul saved from the torment of the Sulfur Pools thanks to a simple Coke or a Twinkie. Don’t knock it. You will change things through this rusty, old window. I promise.”

  Zoe nodded. “It would be nice to have you around here a little more. We miss you. Everyone does.” Her eyes went down to the ground again. “Especially me.”

  Guilt twisted my insides into knotted, little shreds, and I found it difficult to look up at Zoe too. “I know. I haven’t been around much. The Agency and projects at Hula Harry’s have taken up all my time. I’ll be back more though, I promise.”

  The silence between us was palpable. I let it hang for a second then broke in with a whiney voice.

  “I don’t even like the stupid apartment they gave me. It’s small, too soft, impossible to climb into, and I have to sleep with a bunch of guys all packed in around me.”

  Zoe’s eyes shot up along with her eyebrows.

  “Well, not in the same bed. They’re in different sleeping areas, but the thought of them being so close.” I shivered.

  Zoe let out a laugh. “I can see why you’d rather stay there than sleep in the shop with three beautiful women.”

  That stopped me. I had never even thought of it that way. What was I thinking? The bragging rights alone were enough to justify me staying at the shop.

  “I have no argument whatsoever for that one.”

  Zoe laughed again.

  “It’s good to see you smile.” I said offering her a smile of my own.

  “You too.”

  I glanced in the direction of The Agency, already regretting the knowledge that I needed to get back. Zoe could see it in my eyes, and I felt ashamed that it even crossed my mind.

  “Don’t worry. I’ve got this place covered.” Zoe offered me a smile so genuine it only served to twist the guilt dagger further. “I know what this place means to you. Not the building or the stuff but what it stands for. It’s a part of me too, and I’ll never let that fall, I promise.”

  I nodded. “Thanks ... for everything. I know I saved you in the beginning, but lately, I feel like you’re the one who’s done all the saving. Thanks for looking out for me and the shop and even for looking out for the people you saved. You are a good person.”

  She rushed in and gave me a hug. “Thank you,” she whispered. “I needed that.” She held me tight before stepping back.

  Thoughts of my historical search about her life entered my mind. I still couldn’t believe Zoe was capable of doing something so heinous. I guessed we all had our crosses to bear. Mine was soaked in the misery of others too.

  “I should get going if I want to be back before the monsters come out to play.”

  Zoe nodded. “Go on. Ride off into the sunset. But I’m holding you to your promise. I really do miss you.”

  I smiled. “I miss you too.” I threw my leg over the trike and seated my foot on the pedal. “I’ll be back before you know it.” Then I pushed off, heading back the way I came.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  I pedaled for about five minutes before I realized I had forgotten something. I usually left my Whip Crack at the shop in case the girls needed it for protection. Tomorrow, however, Alex and I were heading over to check out the place Marcus had told us about. If it turned out to be even one tenth the setup we thought it would be, Alex and I would need every weapon we could find.

  I swung my wonder trike around and headed back to the shop to get it. I’d definitely have to hurry if I wanted to make it there and back before all the baddies came out to play. The last thing I needed was to be caught out riding a squeaky tricycle through the streets of Scrapyard City at night. It would be like announcing a free shooting gallery, except I was the only target ... and they were only allowed to use their teeth.

  When I pulled up to the shop, I was surprised to see that Zoe had already buttoned everything up for the night. Meg and Jazzy must have shown up the second I had left, and they all decided to turn in. I couldn’t help but remember Zoe’s comment about
sleeping with three beautiful women. It made me want to stay even more, despite the safety and comfort of The Judas Agency apartments. There was something to be said about sleeping where you were free. The shop was mine ... ours and being cooped up in those agency comfort coffins felt a little too much like being in a cage.

  I banged on the door to the shop as hard as I could. The place was all reinforced steel, so making noise from the outside was tough.

  “Zoe, it’s me. I forgot to get something. Let me in.”

  No answer. I grabbed a stray piece of metal off the ground and banged again.

  “Zoe, it’s Gabe. Let me in.”

  Still nothing.

  I grunted with frustration and pulled the worn key out of my pocket.

  “Ready or not, I am coming in, so you better cover up if you’re prancing around in your skivvies.”

  I pushed the door open with one eye shut and the other half squinted. As my eyes adjusted to the dark, I realized no one was there.

  “Nice. All that talk about the shop and watching out for the neighborhood and the second I leave, she bolts.”

  I shook my head and walked over to the secret panel located under the counter. I popped it open, and there sat my little beauty. At least Zoe hadn’t taken the Whip Crack with her.

  The moment I thought it, I felt guilty. Part of me would rather she had. Then she would have a weapon. The Blood Rakes were still missing. At least there was that. If I were a betting man, I would guess that Zoe had headed to wherever Meg and Jazzy were. They would be safe ... safer at least, together.

  I grunted and yanked my Whip Crack out of its hidey hole and slammed the compartment shut again. If they wanted to run around risking their necks, that was their business. I had to quit worrying about them. Especially Zoe. She would do what she wanted and no amount of mother-henning would stop her.

  I was about to walk out the door when my conscience caught me again. If she came back and found the Whip Crack gone, she might think someone had stolen it. She would wonder how they got in and might even go out looking for whoever took it. I couldn’t let her do that. I should at least leave a note ... something to let her know I had it.

 

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