The Devil's Standoff

by V. S. McGrath

  Sweat dripped from Julia’s brow. “I’ve woken them all.”

  Unearthly shrieks echoed through the cavern, and Hettie gagged at the stench. The creatures slid from their sacs and gradually pushed up on shaky legs. Gaping holes in slime-covered heads flashed razorlike teeth, dripping, slathering, seeking …

  Blood. Death. Food.

  Sympathy and glee radiated from the Devil’s Revolver as it projected an image into her mind of the beasts bringing chaos and destruction to the countryside, soaking the land in gore. The mage gun fairly trembled in her mind’s eye.

  No. Her admonishment was firm, a sound swatting. The gun fell silent, and the grim image faded.

  Abby reached toward one of the creatures. Its eyes were large and dark, with side slits like a goat’s, and rimmed with a dark blue ring. Its breathing was raspy and labored. “She’s in pain.”

  “Abby, don’t touch them!” Hettie dragged her away from the hatchling.

  “They want the dark,” she whimpered.

  Diablo projected an image into her mind of where the demons had come from, a place of darkness and fire—hell, she supposed, but not the one she’d been to. This was more like a hearth. A place of comfort.

  Home. No other word could hold so much pain and regret and love all at once.

  The chupacabra lumbered to their feet, shaking their great shaggy bodies. Their fur dried supernaturally as if their bodies were fires with wet coats thrown on top. They seemed to grow before Hettie’s eyes, their hulking forms unfurling, their necks cracking and lengthening, their limbs stretching out. “We need to leave,” she uttered.

  Nearby a malformed creature bleated pitifully as it struggled to sit up. Two larger, stronger beasts nudged it, then, without warning, pounced, sinking their teeth into its throat and tearing open its belly. Soon others joined the feasting frenzy, snapping at each other for the choice cuts, spattering blood and gore everywhere.

  Julia climbed onto the table and scattered herbs around her. The ring glowed as she began her incantation. The chupacabra turned, ears flattening as their master commanded their attention. Slowly the smaller beasts staggered toward the exit, growling. But the larger ones feasting on their fallen comrades continued to eat.

  Julia traced a huge figure in the air as if she were wielding a whip, sending a flare of power crackling over Hettie’s skin. The remaining chupacabra hissed and grudgingly filed out of the cavern.

  The prone beast Abby had tried to touch faltered as it lumbered to its feet. Scenting its weakness, a pair of chupacabra prowled toward it, mouths dripping. One swiped a claw out, opening a long gash in the smaller chupacabra’s face.

  “No!” Abby shouted. The two lunged for their runty sister and bounced harmlessly off an invisible wall. Thwarted, they sullenly joined the exodus.

  Hettie drew her sister into one of the alcoves as the beasts streamed out. Even the limping chupacabra Abby had saved followed, compelled by Julia’s spell. As the scuffle of claws and the snarling faded, Julia climbed shakily down from the table. “What did you do?” Hettie asked, filled with dread.

  She bared her teeth. “You said I have no control, but I have sent the chupacabra to destroy El Toro’s army.”

  “This is not what we agreed to,” Raúl croaked. Julia shot him a fierce look.

  “What choice do we have? There is no barrier. They will sack and burn the village and rape and murder our women and children. I will not let that happen to anyone else ever again. We make our stand today. We must show our strength. We must show the federales that the people of Villa del Punta will not be intimidated!”

  “Julia, if we do this, hundreds of soldiers will die. Men with families. It will make us no better than El Toro.”

  “Don’t be a weak fool like your father,” she spat. “You are just as guilty for hoarding your power and not using it to do the most good for us.”

  Raúl’s face became an ugly mask of anger. “I am not the one who is weak.” He pointed and spoke an incantation. Julia seemed to know what he was about to do, because she threw a satchel at him and shouted a flurry of syllables.

  The satchel exploded in a burst of fire and dust, cutting off Raúl’s spell. Julia ran out of the cave.

  “No!” But Hettie was too late. She heard the retreat of hoofbeats. She’d never catch up—Jezebel was on the other side of the hill. She turned back to Raúl, who sat upon the ground, dazed, head lolling. “Julia’s gone. How do we stop the chupacabra?”

  “I … I don’t know.” His words were slurred.

  “You banished them before. Can you do it again?”

  His eyes rolled back, and he passed out. She grabbed his collar and hauled him up. “Wake up, you bastard!” She shook him violently. “How do we stop the chupacabra?”

  “He’s sleepy,” Abby lamented.

  Of course—Julia was borrowing his magic. She would’ve drained Raúl’s powers when she’d awoken the chupacabra.

  Hettie clenched her hands. She couldn’t warn the Mexican army of the chupacabra and risk capture. She’d never get to Villa del Punta in time to warn the villagers either, even if she had the energy to sustain Diablo’s time bubble for the journey there. And if she did arrive before either the army or the chupacabra, she had no way to stop the oncoming slaughter.

  Walker, Beatrice, Horace, Marco and his family, Rosa, the children … they would all be killed.

  She slid to her knees and pressed her palms into the ground, limbs weak and shaking. Hot tears slid down her face.

  I need help, she whispered to the dark place inside her. How do I stop this?

  Diablo remained staunchly silent.

  In a fit of frustration she conjured the gun and glared at it. “You usually have something to say. What, you suddenly got a conscience now?”

  “Maybe it’s better it doesn’t answer.”

  Hettie whipped Diablo up at the intruder. It took a beat for her heart to register who it was.

  She dropped her arm. “Uncle.”

  Jeremiah was covered head to toe in dust. The bristles on his jaw were thick and patchy, like the toughest scrub clinging to life in the desert. His skin was darker than she remembered, with deep lines carved around his mouth and eyes. He looked like a leather boot that had nearly worn out its sole. Her voice hitched. “You came back.”

  “Said I would, didn’t I?” He sniffed and looked around grimly. “This place is bit of a step down from where I left you.”

  “How’d you even find me?”

  “Girlie, I’ll always find you. I just have to look for trouble, and there you are, smack dab in the middle of it.” He paused thoughtfully. “Jezebel was a bit of a help. She was standing outside that cave like a damn beacon.” His gaze roved around as he took in Abby sitting on the ground, tracing patterns in the bloody mud, and the unconscious form of Raúl Punta. He took off his hat and slapped the dust against his thigh. “I’m going to take a guess this all has to do with the Mexican army I followed and the pack of chupacabra I just saw strolling out of here.”

  She quickly told him about the imminent attack on the village and how Julia was trying to stop it. “We have to get to the village and warn them.”

  Uncle’s lips flattened, and he looked off into the middle distance. “It’s not our business. Not anymore.”

  “But … people are going to die.”

  Jeremiah Bassett scratched his jaw. “Listen, Hettie. I know you want to help, but you need to think about you and … Abby first.” His hesitation at her sister’s name tripped through her senses. “There’s nothing we can do for these people. Smartest thing is to leave while everyone’s busy killing each other. Besides, Punta’s barrier spell will hold off the worst of ’em.”

  “No, it won’t.” She clenched her fists. “I … I killed Javier Punta. The protection barrier was destroyed because of me.”

  The old man
’s eyes widened. “You did what?”

  “He was dying. I couldn’t let him suffer.” She hung her head. “He asked me to help him die.”

  Uncle muttered a curse. He spat into the corner, even though she imagined his mouth must’ve been dry as a bone. “What did I say about getting involved?”

  “I had to. Raúl was controlling him, keeping him alive with sleeping spells and potions. All Javier wanted was to die—”

  “Punta had no right placing that burden on you.” Uncle glared hard at the prone Raúl. “What he was doing wasn’t right, but it ain’t our place to interfere, either.” He screwed up his face, then shook his head, exhaling. “What’s done is done. We need to leave.”

  “But the village—”

  “Forget about them. Forget about this whole place. We need to leave.”

  “I can’t.” Her voice broke.

  Uncle’s features tightened. “Saving these people is not going to absolve you of your crimes.” He looked away. “Believe me. All you’ll do is make things worse. Look what you’ve already done!”

  She knew he was right, but she couldn’t turn away now. “If we do nothing, then we’re no better than murderers.”

  Jeremiah pinched the bridge of his nose. “Do you even care about Abby?” he barked. “Do you have any idea what would happen if the Mexican army got ahold of her? If the Division got their hands on her? I’ve been to the Yuma asylum, Hettie. I’ve seen things you can’t—” He cut himself off abruptly. His face filled with something Hettie had never seen etched in those hard-earned lines: fear. “We can’t let anyone take Abby. D’you hear me?”

  Hettie swallowed. “What did you see?”

  Uncle stared hard at a spot on the ground. “A man that shouldn’t have been alive. He’d been … remade. All natural laws had been completely rewritten. This was no malformation at birth. This was…” He pursed his lips, as if he might vomit. “An indigo child had done it to him. Took him apart and reformed him as if he were just putty to be shaped however the child pleased. Inside and out, none of that should have been. And it wasn’t all him. There were parts of others…” He stopped then, unable to go on.

  “We talked, him and me. Just long enough for me to understand what he’d been through.” He pursed his lips again. “Abby’s potential is limitless. If she can do half of what had been done to that poor soul … If anyone ever figures out how to control her and harness her power, may God have mercy on all of us.” He fixed Hettie with a look. “We can’t risk Abby’s safety.”

  Hettie pursed her lips. “I won’t just leave them to die. This is on me. This is my fault. I have to do something.” She glanced away, the next admission burning a hole in her gut. “Walker’s there.”

  Uncle stared and then cursed, looking up at the ceiling as if begging for patience.

  At that moment, Raúl moaned and pushed to his hands and knees. Jeremiah drew his gun and sank a heel against the sorcerer’s shoulder, pinning him to the ground. “Buenos días, señor.” He cocked his Colt revolver and aimed it at Raúl’s head. “You been treating my girls poorly since I left.”

  Raúl slowly lifted his hands, staring down the barrel.

  Hettie knelt by the sorcerer. “Raúl. We need to get to Villa del Punta before the army gets there first. Do you have a spell to stop the chupacabra from attacking?”

  He sucked in a lip. “I might be able to control them enough to turn them away.”

  “That’s a start,” Uncle said, “but how do we get rid of them for good?”

  “What about your banishment spell?” Hettie asked. “The one you used to get rid of the chupacabra in the desert?”

  “I do not have the strength to perform that spell right now. Julia has … weakened me. I certainly can’t do it a hundred times over.”

  Uncle cursed. “The village is lost, Hettie. There’s nothing we can do.”

  Hettie’s heart hammered hard. She couldn’t leave Walker and Horace and the rest to their fate. “You came on Lilith, right? I’ll take her to the village to warn them.” With all respect to her father’s old mare, Lilith was faster than Jezebel.

  “Oh, no. I’m not letting you take my only way outta here.”

  “Only way out…” Abby repeated, then said more deliberately, “Only. Way. Out. In. Out. In…” She hopped from foot to foot. “Only way in,” Abby said with a tilt of her chin. “Hettie?”

  “Yes?”

  “Do you want to go back to the village?”

  She stared. “Yes. I need to save our friends.”

  “And the horses?”

  “Yes, them, too.”

  Abby considered this, her violet eyes flickering. “Okay.”

  She jumped. Just a short hop in the sand.

  And she disappeared in a pool of light.

  “Abby!” Hettie stared at the ground where her sister had vanished. A loop made of little more than wet footprints framed a perfect circle of white light.

  “Madre de Dios, she performed a transportation spell.” Raúl stared down at the shimmering portal.

  “Transportation? To where?” Hettie started toward the loop, but Uncle stopped her.

  “That’s just like the Coyote’s portal. If she’s in there, she’s on her way out to the other side.”

  “All the more reason to follow her.” Hettie stood at the edge of the pool, staring down as if it were an unfathomable abyss.

  “You could end up anywhere. You could end up in the middle of the Wall!”

  Hettie set her jaw. “No. I think I know where she’s headed.”

  She leaped in after Abby.

  The pitch-black miasma of the portal clung to Hettie, sucking against her skin as she slogged through. She called out to Abby but got no response. Panic gripped her as she imagined getting stuck in the hills, but then, as though she’d been purged from some great sphincter, she stumbled to her knees in the dust.

  Abby smiled down at her. She sat on the stone bench of a familiar-looking fountain, legs swinging above a carved medallion of a laughing coyote’s face. It seemed to wink at her as she got to her feet.

  I could drop you right in the center of the village. I have an aperture there, you know, hidden away. Not even Raúl can find it …

  Coyote hadn’t been joking. They were in Villa del Punta. Somehow her sister had tapped into Coyote’s portal spell. “Abby—”

  Fire and force and heat exploded above them. Hettie grabbed her sister around the waist, covering her with her body as a shower of plaster from the side of an adobe house rained over them. Screams and gunfire rent the air.

  Flames raged over the roofs of several houses. Mortar shells had left pockmarks all over the market, the stalls reduced to piles of burning rubble. Acrid smoke filled her nostrils. Everywhere, people ran, arms filled with baskets and livestock and children.

  “Hettie!” Uncle burst through the portal, followed closely by Raúl and their horses, including Jezebel. The mare whinnied in protest at being dragged back into danger.

  “How’d they get here so fast?” Hettie ducked as a barrage of gunfire erupted around them, but it was coming from the men lining the gantry and on the roofs. The walls had not yet been breached.

  “That spell has a lot of moving parts to it, and Abby doesn’t know how space and time are supposed to work together. That coyote portal ate all the hours while we were in there.”

  Suddenly a gruff voice boomed through the village, sneering with triumph.

  “El Toro.” Raúl stared hard into the sky, scowling as the voice rang out, the elongated vowels rolling like thunder. “He’s demanding unconditional surrender.”

  “That’s not all he’s saying.” Uncle glowered. “Be grateful you don’t speak the language, ladies. He’s painting detailed pictures of what he plans to do with anyone who resists.”

  “He wants to drive the villagers min
dless with fear.” Raúl straightened. “I must help my people.”

  Hettie nodded. “Uncle, get Abby somewhere safe.”

  “I was somewhere safe,” he growled. “And where are you going?”

  “I’ve got to slow the army down while everyone evacuates. Abby—” She looked at her sister, whose eyes had gone hazy. The portal spell had drained her. Hettie cursed. Swiftly, she cut her finger with her boot knife and jammed it into Abby’s mouth. Her sister began sucking.

  Uncle’s eyes went huge. “She’s feeding off you?”

  “It keeps her magic and her mind stable.” She winced. “Abby, don’t chew.”

  Jeremiah yanked Hettie’s finger out of Abby’s mouth. The young girl whined.

  “Man alive…” He handed Hettie a kerchief. “Why didn’t you tell me she’d gone vampire? How long has this been going on?”

  “We don’t have time to discuss this.” She took Abby by the shoulders—her sister looked a little better already. “Can you open another portal for everyone in the village to escape through?”

  Abby shook her head. “No. Too many people. They’ll get stuck. And the magic here is draining.”

  “The barrier kept the magic welled in this node,” Raúl reminded her. “It will fade to a fraction of its strength soon. Anything that ran off magic within the walls will cease working.”

  The walls. Of course. “Is the corn still working?”

  Raúl’s brow wrinkled. “Corn?”

  “Around the farm. When I visited, the workers told me the corn protected everyone. It moved around and used some kind of hide spell.”

  Raúl paused. “Yes. It grew here long before my father arrived. It once protected the people who lived on this land—my ancestors. It’s partly why this place was chosen.”

  “Tell the villagers to run into the corn. Uncle, take Abby in there and see what you can do to help keep everyone safe.”

  Abby said, “I want to help.”

  “You’ve done enough getting us here,” Hettie told her. “The best thing you can do now is stay safe. Raúl—”