by Leo King
“Cool,” she wheezed. The sounds of battle were all around her.
Ouellette groaned and lay still. Slowly, she stumbled to her feet and assessed the situation. All around, New Orleans SWAT and GEIST agents were fighting Vincent’s loa along with the African spirits and ghosts. Chase stood nearby, tearing into loa with his bare hands. He kept yelling, “This is for Noelle!”
Then the yacht’s deck became illuminated by the lightning strikes above. It was moving away from the rig.
Hearing Ouellette bellow, Sam barely slapped aside a chop to the neck. He was back on his feet. “You’re dead, Sam!”
“Let’s finish this,” she said, speeding herself back up. With everyone around them moving in slow motion, they engaged in a fierce volley of blows that did more to damage the yacht than turn a single wave in the tide of their duel. Finally, she jumped at him and punched as he rolled to the side. The impact of her fist on the deck was so severe that the entire ship started cracking. When Ouellette saw the damage, he got an angry expression and jump-kicked her right in the face. “You’ll kill innocent humans, you psycho!”
“Sorry!” she cried as she flew back, skidding across the water like a skipping stone. He then leapt toward her, sliding across the Gulf as if he were skiing. She continued to skip, finally twisting her body around until her feet were pushing on the water. With a hard push, she changed direction, her feet catching the surface tension. Soon, she was heading right back at him.
Whoa, I’m running on water!
The two of them collided fist-to-fist a few miles from the oil rig, again causing a shockwave so intense, it made the water beneath them vaporize. As mist sprayed everywhere, she slipped in and kneed him in the gut, then elbowed him in the chin. He coughed up blood and hit her on the back of the head with both fists. For a moment, she blacked out, her vision vanishing in a sea of stars. Then she felt a punch to the chin—an uppercut. The next thing she knew, she was high in the air.
Nearby was the helicopter containing Aucoin, Alexia, and her children. It was struggling against the raging tempest. Shaking off the pain, she aimed herself at the copter and fell inside.
“Sam?” Aucoin said.
She shook off the pain and then reached out, touching each child on the cheek. She could feel Alice’s intellect and Eugene’s spiritual affinity. It was enough to know that they’d grow up to be exceptional. I love you, my little angels. I’ll never forget you.
A flash of white caught her eye. A small, white orb flittered out from Eugene and into her back pocket. It felt warm and comfortably familiar. I know that person, but—
“Sam, what’s going on now?” Aucoin asked anxiously.
Focusing on them, she said, “Kyle. Alexia. Tell Dr. Lazarus that Ouellette is Louis Castille. He’ll figure out the rest. I need to destroy both him and the pen. Is the device ready?”
“I think so,” Alexia said. “Here, take my headset. Dixie should—”
From outside, Ouellette called out, “Sam!”
He was hovering in front of her, his body engulfed in a fiery, white aura.
Sam’s shoulders dropped. “You can fly?”
“Give me the children, Sam!”
Aucoin reached for her. “Look, Sam, I—”
She turned and kissed him. “Goodbye, Kyle. I love you.”
Then she placed her forehead on Alexia’s. “Make sure my children go someplace neither I or nor Vincent will ever find.”
“I understand.” Alexia smiled with a gentle strength. “You will win. I believe it.”
Sam gazed upon her children one last time. Goodbye, my loves.
With a roar of her own, she hurled herself at Ouellette. As they flew through the air back toward Deepwater, she rained repeated blows upon him. “You – will – not – hurt – my – babies!”
Grabbing her neck, Ouellette flipped around and slid her across the rig’s surface. The metal tore into her back, popping her back muscles and tendons out of alignment. She skidded to a stop in the center of the platform.
“Ouch.”
All around, the loa, African spirits, and ghosts continued to fight, but it had become a blur. Ouellette was her only target.
He kicked her again, and she felt her ribs crack. Then he did it again. She felt her stomach rupture. And then he paused, regarded her with disdain, and then jumped so high, he became a dot.
Crap.
Suddenly, she felt a sense of peace, knowing she could never overpower him. At that moment, she realized her only chance was to outsmart him.
“Papa Ghede,” she said, each breath more painful than the last.
He was busy banishing dozens of lesser loa. “Yeah, luv?”
“Remember the pen? The focus? I’m going to destroy it now like we discussed.”
“Great gris-gris! My children can’t survive that much power ‘sploding out. Everyone, we retreatin’!” He tossed his apple into the sky, where it turned into a portal back into the spirit world. “Everybody get in here, or you done for.”
Out the corner of her eye, she saw Edward start to run toward her, only to be grabbed by Michael and Rodger. “Let me go!”
“You fool!” Michael shouted. “You’ll be destroyed.”
“Good luck, Sam,” Rodger said.
“My little Magnolia!” Edward cried they pulled him into the portal. “I love you!”
The African spirits and ghosts also started to retreat, pulling Vincent’s loa with them.
Good. They’ll be all right.
She looked back up. Ouellette was starting to descend. Putting on the headset, she hit the talk button. “Dixie? It’s Sam.” She felt exhausted.
Dixie picked up. “Sam? What’s happ—”
“Listen,” Sam said, gauging Ouellette’s distance. “I’m not gonna make it out of here. But I need to destroy the pen. Is the device ready?”
Patty chimed in. “It’s ready, Sam. Sebastian and Sheree put it on a one-minute cycle. Place the pen in the basin, hit the button, and in one minute, it should be destroyed.”
Still falling toward her, Ouellette stretched out his hands as if cupping a large ball.
“Good,” Sam said, standing up. Her chest and legs hurt. With every breath, she heard whistling in her lungs. She’d be unconscious soon. “Tell everyone to evacuate Deepwater. It’s going down.”
White and black energy started gathering into Ouellette’s hands.
“I will,” Dixie said. “And Sam?”
“Yeah?”
“Good luck.”
Sam chuckled and spat up blood. “Thanks.”
Tossing the headset to the side, she cupped her hands together like she did the night of the townhome fire. White and blue energy gathered. As soon as enough was there, she thrust her hands up at Ouellette. He did the same thing, and large beams of energy flew from both of them, colliding into a central point that grew larger and hotter with every second. All spirits and ghosts nearby were vaporized into black dust.
The remaining loa under Vincent’s control shrieked in fear and retreated into Papa Ghede’s portal.
Sam felt the ground around her feet start to break and the strength in her knees give. She could see the concentration on Ouellette’s face as he neared her. Then the area where their beams converged exploded. For the third time in her life, Sam felt her flesh burn as she fell down the rig. And once more, she momentarily blacked out.
When she came to, she was in the drilling bay. In the center of the room was a massive cylinder with an equally immense conical plasma torch. She found it oddly similar to something she’d see in a science fiction movie. The hole it would normally descend into had been sealed off into a deep basin. Sebastian and Sheree’s equipment—a console with a large, red button—was set up next to it.
She limped toward the basin, liquid sloshing in her lungs and giving her the feeling of drowning. Just as she reached it, Ouellette landed behind her. His face and arms were also badly burned. He seemed even more pissed.
“I tried to w
ork this out with you,” he said, stomping toward her. “However, you chose the hard route. But that’s your way, isn’t it? You’ve always been an entitled, spoiled bitch not worthy of the name Castille.”
“I’ve got news for you, Gramps,” she said, fumbling with the container. “Vincent might have been the Bourbon Street Ripper, but the one who truly brought dishonor to the Castille family was…”
He punched her in the face, breaking her jaw. The container flew into the basin. She looked at him and muttered, “… you.”
For a brief moment, his face wrinkled in confusion and then regret. It was all the distraction she needed. Grabbing him and then kicking the large red button, she flipped them both into the basin. They landed right by the container.
Immediately, he pushed her back and scrambled over to it. With a triumphant laugh, he took out the pen and held it up. “Finally! I’ve got you, Son!”
Feeling her strength all but gone, she pushed everything she had into standing up. The machinery above clicked on and began sealing the basin shut. She had to finish this.
Then Ouellette’s brow wrinkled. “What do you mean, I fell into her trap?”
He glanced up and gawked. “No! I won’t allow it. I’ll pulverize this thing first!” Holding out one hand, he started gathering energy again.
Tripping forward, she crashed into him shoulder-first. “No!”
As they slid back, he elbowed her in the face, shattering her left eye and breaking her nose again. She groaned and spat up blood as he aimed the gathering sphere of energy at her midsection. He sneered condescendingly. “I win, Granddaughter.”
Heaving up blood and bile, she swatted weakly at his hand. She needed help.
Then a flash of light caught her eye as the small, white orb from before floated out from her pocket. With another flash, it turned into the ghostly figure of Richie Fastellos.
“You will not touch her,” he said as a hooded coat appeared around him—the same kind worn by Dallas, the new Bourbon Street Ripper. He summoned a ghostly chainsaw.
“Tonight’s going to be hard for you!”
As Sam staggered to regain her footing, Richie attacked Ouellette, forcing him back. Above, the device started coming to life, arcs of blue energy gathering into a tip. She then realized what Richie was doing—stalling for time.
“You pitiful little ghost,” Ouellette said, swiping at Richie with his energy-gathering hand. Then he suddenly looked down at the pen. “Shut up, Son. Dallas was not your greatest creation!”
That distraction proved to be enough, however, as Richie stepped to the side and then slammed the chainsaw onto Ouellette’s outstretched hand. The sphere of energy exploded, blowing them both back.
Stumbling back, her jaw now healed, Sam popped it into place. Then she took out Perdition and cocked back the massive hammer.
Ouellette cried out and fell to the ground, dropping the pen. It slid across the basin as he cauterized his stump with a crackle of energy. Then he turned on Richie. A moment later, he had him pinned, punching him in the face repeatedly. Richie cried out and dropped the ghostly chainsaw. It clattered to the ground and vanished in a puff of smoke.
“Time to send you to oblivion, you pathetic copycat!” Ouellette took out his knife, white energy crackling through his arm and into it.
But this time, she was ready, aiming Perdition at him. “Grandfather!”
The moment he turned toward her, she fired. The roar of the gun was like thunder, and the massive bullet tore off most of his face. Blood and tissue went everywhere as he fell back into the center of the basin.
Seizing that moment, she grabbed the pen and jumped on top of him.
“Run, Richie!”
He struggled to his feet, the hooded coat gone.
“Run, you idiot! You have to be waiting for me when I die. You won’t be able to do that if you get obliterated.”
“Sam…”
“I said run!” she shouted so hard the basin shook.
He gulped. “A… all right. I’ll wait for you, Sam. Goodbye. I love you.”
In a flash of white, he was gone.
I love you too, you stupid kid.
She gazed back at Ouellette. Somehow, he was still alive, his face already reforming. With a groan, he tried to push her off, but now he was weaker than she was. Grinning madly, she held the pen above him like a knife.
“Time for us to die, Gramps!”
“Daughter, wait,” Vincent said. “Don’t! I’m not sure if you’ll reform!”
“Isn’t it wonderful, Vincent!” She stabbed the pen into Ouellette’s sternum, making him cough up several kinds of liquid. Then she repeatedly punched the remains of his face until she felt his skull start to crack.
Above, the arcs of energy had flowed into a white-hot point. The machine above emitted a rising, pitched whine. It was almost ready to fire.
Ouellette burbled. “Sam… ”
She grinned and started choking him. “Isn’t this what you want, Gramps? To die and atone for your sins? Well, guess what, you get your wish!”
He gurgled again and then elbowed her in the chest so hard that her heart stopped. Blood poured from her mouth.
She spat on him and kneed him in the groin. As his eyes rolled up, she leaned back and screamed. All sensation in her arms and chest were gone, and with great effort, she took what could very well be her last breath. Then the whining above stopped, and the device began to fire.
She held up her arms. Baron, if there’s a chance in hell, please dig my grave tonight!
“Let’s do this!”
And then, all around them was white.
Outside, the dark, stormy night over the Gulf of Mexico was momentarily illuminated by a blast from the Deepwater Olympus rig. The light could be seen for hundreds of miles and was described as being as bright as daylight. The shockwave was so intense that it pushed away the clouds, and the sound was so loud that it shattered the windows of homes on the coast. The explosion lasted several seconds and then slowly flickered out.
The silver pen had been destroyed, and with it Vincent’s influence in the world.
Epilogue
Date: Saturday, February 28, 1998
Time: 4:00 p.m.
Location: GEIST Headquarters
Southern Arkansas
“Are you sure I can’t persuade you to stay, Kyle?”
“Too many things have happened here. I’m sorry.”
“Will you at least consider remaining until after the move?” Dr. Lazarus frowned. To his side, Camellia silently poured him more coffee. “It’s only a few more years, and it would be a shame to have the inauguration of our new headquarters without a founding member present.”
“Always the diplomat, eh?” Sitting across from him, Aucoin offered the gentlest smile he could. “My mind’s made up, Andre. I’d be a liability to GEIST if I knew where the new base was. I’d hate to be a reason for making it… fail.” There was no other way to put it.
Dr. Lazarus seemed sad, but he nodded. “I do understand. With the Knight Priory gone and the crisis in the voodoo pantheon over, GEIST is ready to start working on a global scale. New investigators, agents, and operatives are coming in every week. Thanks to the Castille fortune, we can become what I envisioned.”
Still smiling softly, Aucoin said, “You have good people helping you. Meyer, Hakim, Tania. That new girl from London, the ex-Triad from China, and isn’t there a guy and his sister coming in from Ireland as well?”
“Yes. A lot of talented people are being scouted now,” Dr. Lazarus said. “Even Miss LeBlanc and Miss O’Brien will be joining once they graduate. But, Kyle, you were one of the first and best. There will never be another like you.”
Aucoin felt his ears heat up. “I did what I had to do to atone for my sins. But I’m not getting any younger, and I’m still not sure what I want to do with the rest of my life. So for now, I need to move on and see where else I can make a difference.”
After a few moments of silence,
Dr. Lazarus asked, “Are you going to search for Sam?”
“I thought about it,” Aucoin said. “But something about the way she said goodbye seemed final. Besides, the destruction of Deepwater Olympus was so severe that even Julius thinks she may take years, if ever, to recover.”
His voice cracked a little. “I don’t think I’m meant to see her again.”
“I’m sorry, Kyle. Is there anything that I can do?”
“Yeah, make sure you don’t get complacent. Vincent’s ability to command loa in the physical world may be gone, and Papa Ghede may be able to counter him, but he still exists. And he still has Baron Samedi bound. Because of that, the ghosts of the voodoo pantheon still cannot cross over. Not to mention that Papa Ghede and Vincent now fight in the spirit world. So while there’s no immediate crisis, the world is far from back to normal.”
Dr. Lazarus said, “You are correct. The constant influx of new ghosts under areas controlled by the voodoo pantheon, as well as the energy released from the war between Papa Ghede and Vincent, will eventually leak into the physical world. We’ll see more hauntings and paranormal phenomena than even Hollywood could imagine.”
He slowly spun a globe on his desk. “And this whole mess has encouraged conflicts in other pantheons. So, yes, the world may never be normal again. But don’t worry, Kyle. Wherever the supernatural threatens humanity, GEIST will be there.”
“Thank you. And Papa Ghede. Is he an ally?”
“Yes. I have made an arrangement with him. We will stay out of New Orleans—his headquarters, if you will. In return, he’ll make sure that loa never attack humans again.”
With an exhale, Aucoin said, “Then, as Alexia would say, ‘All’s well.’”
Smiling pleasantly, Dr. Lazarus asked, “Shall I see you to your car?”
Aucoin nodded and stood, taking his bags. Camellia pushed Dr. Lazarus along.
“It’s been a long road, Kyle. Morial was able to dodge any blame, but his time will come. Connick is now an ally of ours, a sort of eyes on ground zero in New Orleans. And Dr. Kindley is locked away, deep inside an asylum, which I pray he never leaves.”