The Poe Consequence

by Keith Steinbaum

  “You fuckin’ bitch!” he yelled. “I’ll kill you, God damn it!”

  Standing in front of the open door, King hesitated while scrubbing his eyes with the palm of his hand. Face sprinted at full speed and rammed his head and shoulders into his gut, causing the gun to go off again. As they plummeted from the top step, Face’s savage desire for revenge found its opportunity in that fateful airborne moment. He squeezed his left arm around King’s waist, making sure he couldn’t twist away. With his right arm, he threw a powerful upward thrust under the chin, forcing King’s head all the way back before they hit the ground. Face pitched his weight forward to increase the impact, hoping to bust King’s head open like an egg. The cracking noise he heard, however, came from the neck and sounded more like the snapping of a tree branch.

  Face’s momentum caused him to roll forward, but he scrambled back and pounced on King again, ready to finish what he started. With fists raised and his knees on King’s chest, he noticed the unusual angle of the twisted head and the pool of blood forming underneath. King didn’t move or make a noise of any kind. Face checked for signs of breathing but found nothing. He pushed himself off the limp body and saw Veronica and their mother looking at him. At that moment he remembered the gun firing when he dove at King. Relieved to see Veronica unhurt, he waved her over.

  “You know how to find a pulse?” he asked her.

  When Veronica lowered King’s wrist and looked up at Face, her eyes told him what he already suspected. King was dead.

  * * *

  The three of them stood outside together, several feet away from the lifeless body. Veronica had turned the main power switch back on, and Face saw the blood and swelling on his mother’s face.

  “You okay, Ma?” he asked.

  “Sí,” she said, crying softly.

  “She needs a doctor,” Veronica said.

  The faint call of sirens sounded in the distance. “I never called the police,” she said. “I guess one of the neighbors did.”

  “I gotta get outta here!” he said.

  “Why, Alex? Veronica asked. “This was self-defense. Nothing’s going to happen to you.”

  “Listen to me, Veronica!” he said, clutching her shoulder. “I killed him. You know what that means?”

  “Yes, you saved our life. That’s what it means.”

  “No!” he shouted. “Did you forget? I’m a Diablo. King was a Lobo. Don’t you remember what’s been happening?”

  Veronica stared at him open mouthed, her eyes widening in recognition.

  “I don’t understand,” his mother said.

  “I gotta go, Ma,” he told her. “Veronica can explain.”

  “But…if something like that happens,” Veronica said, “the police can get you medical attention right away.”

  “Fuck the police!” he shouted. “How do you know they ain’t the ones doin’ it?” Face shook his head in disgust. “Maybe not all of ‘em, Veronica, but it just takes one, you know? One pinchi motherfucker in a uniform.”

  “Where will you be?”

  “I ain’t gonna say. Don’t want you knowin’ where I am. Cops can’t find nothin’ out that way.”

  “What’s going to happen at four o’clock?” she asked, her eyes beginning to tear. “How will I know you’re all right?”

  Face smiled. “Don’t worry ‘bout me. You just take care of Ma.”

  “Alex, please!”

  “I gotta go, Veronica. Gimme my cell phone.”

  “I’m going to call you later to make sure you’re okay.”

  “No fuckin’ way, Veronica. You ain’t gonna hear from me until I’m ready.”

  “When will that be?” she asked.

  “What do you think?” he answered. “When it’s after four and I ain’t dead from no heart attack.”

  “That still doesn’t explain why you won’t let me call you.”

  “Where I’m goin’, it’s real quiet up there. Can’t let nobody hear me. My phone’ll be on so I can see the time, but I’m cuttin’ the ring.”

  Veronica stared at him with a worried expression. “Your gun’s over there,” she said, pointing to a spot on the ground near the door. Face didn’t remember how the gun got there, but he felt good rushing over to stick it in his pocket. “Mama had taken the gun,” Veronica said. “She told me she was about to shoot him when you came running out.”

  Face looked at his mother with a virgin admiration. “Is that true, Ma?” he asked.

  His mother nodded. “I felt the gun on the floor,” she said. “Dios, please forgive me, but he wasn’t gonna hurt my daughter again.” The tears refilled her eyes. “Never…again.”

  The sirens got louder. Face reached out to hug them both. “Gracias,” he said. “You both done good.” He started to run but stopped to turn around. “Tell Seth to be cool, Veronica. And let Kevin know if I ain’t dead by tomorrow, my bangin’ days are over.”

  * * *

  The scarcity of street lamps offered Face the protective darkness he needed as he made his way through the varying streets to Casa Place. The brightness of the moon did him no favors, but enough trees surrounded the areas to make it easy to avoid that natural spotlight. He figured the cops would do everything to find him, but he needed to stay out of sight until tomorrow. His head ached and he felt dizzy from knocking it against the wall, but he’d be okay. He now had the chance to fuck up somebody’s killing schedule and ruin their party. He’d be the first one to outsmart Mr. Heart Attack. Maybe that might be enough to make him stop or move on to somewhere else. Maybe that was the game he was playing. He’d just never been beaten yet.

  Face had lived a full life and wasn’t afraid of death, but wouldn’t go without a fight, that’s for damn sure. If his time came, however, he could now die knowing his payback against King had ended just like a little kid’s story; happily ever after. Face smiled as he thought about the way things played out. Everybody contributed. Veronica gave him the opening he needed by spraying that asshole with her own special eye drops. She’ll always know that she played a part in getting her revenge. He forgave his mother, too. She showed him something he never thought she had: Huevos. Balls. Guts.

  Now Face had one more battle to fight and Casa Place remained another fifteen minutes away. “Four a.m. ain’t gonna mean shit tonight, motherfucker,” he whispered, increasing his pace. “How you gonna kill me if you don’t know where I am?”

  CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN

  Warren had waited to journey to the corridor of another evil heart, to incriminate and assign death, but the continual flow of opportunities had ceased. The basic urge behind his existence teetered on the brink of complete deviation. Something unplanned occurred during the long period of inactivity. His spirit started mutating.

  There had been no recent cause for retribution, yet no hibernation from his sinister actions. The original focus of his rebirth had stagnated in the lull between gang killings, causing his spirit to sweep away toward the malignant swirl of mankind’s other evils. Warren’s transformed consciousness headed into unknown regions of pain and sorrow without any discernible patterns. He found himself circulating among human acts of savagery and torture, his altered spirit contributing as an unintentional force that fueled such horrors.

  Seth signified the foundation for Warren’s emergence, the inspiration behind his afterlife, and thus the link to his power of reprisal. Without that association, as Warren’s uncontrollable attendance to other calamities increased, he operated more as a donor of darkness in the tragedies of mankind. He existed as an entity in need of sustenance, and without the empowering call of vengeance for another gang-related murder, he traveled to alternate paths of abhorrence. Without meaning to, he had converted into a virus of evil, an encouraging influence for sadness and inhumanity. For the first time since his rebirth, Warren had lost control.

  Through the maze of his alternate destiny, a sudden recognizable purpose besieged his consciousness. Images of abominations flew from his vision like a swarm of
locusts until one specter remained. Another gang killing had occurred, but the vividness of the broken neck disturbed him in a way that differentiated from all the other deaths.

  He foresaw the demise of the one known as “King” to be the most deserved of all his exterminations. Warren had already affected his dreams, causing him to awaken in the night, yet he’d been unwilling to complete the deed until the gangbanger committed a murder. That held as the natural order of propriety. But King had been killed and the gang member who carried out the deed would now have to pay the price with his own life.

  At four a.m.

  CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT

  Uncle Kevin hung up the phone, looking upset. “That was Veronica,” he told them. “Her car was stolen.”

  “On Thanksgiving night of all nights?” Grandma asked. “What’s this world coming to?”

  “She wants to know if Seth and I can bring her home.”

  “Seth doesn’t have to go,” Grandma said. “He’ll help me wash the dishes and I’ll stay with him until you return.”

  “She wants her mother to meet the both of us,” Uncle Kevin explained. “If that’ll make her feel better, then Seth should come with me.”

  Although Seth felt bad for Veronica, he looked forward to seeing Alex again. When Grandma left, Uncle Kevin asked him to sit down.

  “We have to go, but I need to tell you something first,” he said, facing him on the couch. “I didn’t tell your grandma the truth. Veronica’s car wasn’t stolen. Someone broke into their house tonight.”

  “Really?” he said, afraid to hear the rest. “Is she okay? Is Alex okay?”

  “They’re both fine, Seth. But their mother got roughed up and needs some treatment.”

  “Wow,” Seth replied. “That’s really scary.”

  “There’s something else I need to tell you. The bastard that broke into their house was the same gangbanger who grabbed you when your father was shot.”

  For a moment, Seth lost his ability to speak. “King?” he whispered.

  “Yes,” Uncle Kevin answered. “But he’s dead now. Alex killed him in self-defense.”

  Seth closed his eyes for several moments. His lips tightened into a grimace as he realized what would now happen. “Is Alex gonna go to jail?” he asked, tears threatening to fall.

  His uncle shook his head. “No way, Seth. Alex is a hero. He saved Veronica’s life tonight, and probably their mother’s too. But right now, he’s hiding somewhere and we have to find him.”

  “So we can tell him he’s not in trouble, right?”

  “It’s not that simple,” he said. “Remember the night you overheard me talking with Veronica about the heart attacks? And I read those lines from Edgar Allan Poe?”

  “Yeah,” he answered. “That’s when I found out it’s my dad getting back at ‘em.”

  “Well, if that’s true,” Kevin said, “and it just might be, Alex could be next.”

  “But he saved Veronica’s life!” Seth exclaimed. “He’s a hero, you said so yourself!”

  “That’s right, I did. But the only gang members who have died of heart attacks were the ones who killed somebody first. What Alex did was in self-defense, but we don’t know if that matters. He still killed someone. We can’t take a chance. We’ve got to find him before its too late.”

  Seth glanced at the watch that Alex gave him. “You mean by four a.m.?”

  “That’s exactly what I mean,” Uncle Kevin said, looking at his own watch as he rose from the couch. “Come on, it’s already past ten. When we’re in the car, I have something else I need to talk with you about. Something Madame Sibilia explained to me.”

  “You mean there’s more stuff you didn’t tell me?”

  “She said something about you that night I never thought could happen, something that sounded so impossible I didn’t mention it.” He looked at Seth with an unusual expression. “I may have been wrong.”

  * * *

  Seth didn’t mind the long car ride because Uncle Kevin had time to tell him about the other things Madame Sibilia said. Now he wanted to think things over. If Madame Sibilia told the truth about him being the one person who could communicate with his father, what would he say to him if he got the chance? His uncle wanted him to ask for Alex’s safety, but he didn’t think that would be necessary. His father used to always preach the golden rule, telling him to treat others the same way he wished to be treated himself. Why would his father give Alex one of those heart attacks when Seth and Alex were friends now? Alex had even given him his watch as a reminder of their relationship. And he had done him a big favor by coming to school to make sure he’d never be bullied again. His father would like the way Alex treated his son. He was sure of that.

  He would also say that he missed him and mom, and that he’d never forget them. But he wanted his father to know things are okay with Uncle Kevin now, and that he might have a real cool substitute mom in his life soon. He knew his father would like Veronica, and he’d be happy that his brother found someone as nice and pretty as her.

  There remained one more thing he wanted to tell him. Please stop the killing. Uncle Kevin said that lots of the gang members had died from heart attacks. He knew his father wanted revenge, but the punishment had lasted long enough. He wasn’t sure how to explain it, exactly, but he didn’t want to be reminded of that night anymore. As long as his father kept doing what he was doing, how could he ever get over it?

  Seth didn’t understand why his father killed so many others but not King. He was the worst of them all, and if it weren’t for him that night, maybe everything would have been all right. Wasn’t King the reason his father got shot? Seth reasoned that Alex did his father a favor; a real bad guy like that wasn’t around anymore.

  Alex was a hero, just like Uncle Kevin said. And heroes don’t deserve to get snitched on. He had a strong feeling that Alex went to hide at that special hideout on Casa Place but he wasn’t going to say anything. He had made a pledge to Alex that he intended to keep. “I swore to him I wouldn’t tell anyone about that spot,” he reminded himself. “And the next time I see Alex, I’ll let him know I’m his friend and kept my word. Just like I promised.”

  CHAPTER FORTY-NINE

  Kevin called Veronica. “We’re pulling up now,” he said. Seth had been so quiet, Kevin thought he’d fallen asleep, but his nephew responded to the activity in front of the house as soon as he placed the phone back in his pocket.

  “Look at all the police!” he exclaimed. Kevin surveyed the scene. He had witnessed a similar experience months before in the parking lot of Alfredo’s Market. The flashing lights of police vehicles, a covered body, and an area cordoned off by tape. He noticed one other similarity from that night: Curious onlookers. When he arrived at the murder site after Warren’s murder he felt like screaming at all of those Grim Reaper-like bystanders to go away, but these people tonight were neighbors with a reason to be concerned. There had been a break-in. And a killing.

  When he stepped out of his car he saw Veronica hurrying toward them. Seth intercepted her and gave her a hug. When she approached him next, Kevin held her until she let go.

  “How’s your mom?” he asked.

  “She’s being treated at the hospital,” Veronica said. “She’s hurt, but I think she’ll be okay. They’re going to hold her overnight for observation.”

  “How ya doin,’ Kevin?”

  Before turning around Kevin recognized the bass level voice immediately. “It’s no way to spend a Thanksgiving, Lieutenant,” he replied. Kevin faced Lieutenant Atkinson and extended his hand. “Good to see you here, Carl.”

  “Next time for a better reason, I hope,” Atkinson said. “As I’ve told Veronica, we have patrol cars searching over a five mile radius for Alex. He had close to a thirty minute head start by the time I got the word out, but we’re going to keep looking.”

  “That’s good to hear,” Kevin said. “We don’t have much time.”

  Atkinson looked over his shoulder and Kevin fo
llowed his gaze. A police photographer had taken pictures of the body and surrounding areas, and now headed back to the house.

  “Homicide’s almost finished here,” he told him. “Let’s go inside.”

  As the four of them neared the front door, Kevin watched Veronica put her arm around Seth and try to guide him past the covered body, but Seth stopped and stared in silence. Atkinson looked at Kevin, then at Seth. “Sorry you have to see this, son,” he said.

  Seth’s jaw tightened and his eyes remained fixed on King. “I’m not,” he said, his tone almost trance-like. “He got what he deserved.”

  “Come on, Seth,” Veronica said. Seth studied his subject a few moments longer before turning away and walking toward the house.

  Kevin observed indications of the fight that occurred. Multiple fragments of broken glass were scattered around a corner area where a television had been toppled from its stand. Near the door, black scuff marks from shoes streaked the wall near a slanted picture hook. The mirror it once held lay in pieces on the floor. The couch angled in a strange forty-five degree position, and in his line of sight leading to the back wall, a policeman examined a bullet hole. Kevin squeezed Veronica’s arm, shaken by the scene but grateful for her survival. Wherever Alex was, he hoped he’d get the chance to thank him.

  Veronica and Seth were asked to sit on the floor until the photographer finished taking pictures of the area around the couch and chairs. Atkinson called Kevin over to him. “He got into the house through the window in that bathroom,” he explained, pointing toward the spot. “Veronica said her mother likes to leave it open until she goes to bed. I don’t think she’ll be doing that anymore. He got into the backyard through a small opening in the fence. His footprints led to the kitchen door first, then the window.”