by Peter Fang
Finley watched helplessly as Ake walked out the room. He strained to see images on the security camera, but the angle was poor from where he was. He could barely see the image of Elise bending over the refrigerator. What the hell was she doing? On the screen, Finley could see himself slowly standing up as Ake exited the room.
Ake paused outside the room and gasped. “What the fuck do you think you are––” He raised the gun at Elise. “Get your ass over here, so I can have a better look at you. This time, I will make sure you experience what you have missed.” Elise didn’t move, but just stared at Ake.
Ake raised the gun and pointed at Elise. “It’s a cliché to give someone a count of three, so I’m just going to ask you one time to come here. One…” Ake pulled the trigger and a muffled shot hit Elise on the shoulder.
A banshee-like scream came from behind Elise. The scream curled Ake’s blood; it was a brief moment, but he saw it. A massive centipede shadow shifted to Ake’s right, and then he saw the shadow fly at him with great speed. Ake screamed but the serpent wrapped around him and bit into his throat. Ake fell to the ground and his scream was cut short after a bone-breaking snap.
Finley could see Ake’s boots right outside the door, still twitching. On the video, he saw Elise standing frozen, spell-bound, feeling nothing from the gunshot wound. Nearby, Ake’s corpse was slowly engulfed by a large centipede. Its numerous legs wrapped around Ake’s shivering body as it bit him repeatedly.
Finley suppressed the urge to call to Elise, because somehow he knew the thing right outside the door might come in and take him out. The creature was eating Ake. Seconds later, the slurping sound stopped, and all the monitors went dead. Footsteps approached the entrance but stopped right outside the door. Finley froze, unconsciously holding his breath. A scaly and flaky hand that was barely recognizable as a human hand reached across the door and clasped the door seam. Blood was dripping from the fingertips—long, dark fingernails that looked more like gnarly meat hooks. Its powerful grip bit into the door rim, making deep indentations.
The creature hissed, “You are not one of the queen’s…I could tell. The way you protected Elise reminded me of my husband, Manfred. Thank you.” Meredith paused, sniffed the air, then said, “Your wound is fatal—thought you should know that.” Moments later, she fled towards the basement entrance, taking Elise with it. She leaped over the refrigerator and landed on top of the basement stairs and made a swift exit. A loud bang could be heard as she forced her way through the window.
Finley didn’t realize he was shot until a throbbing pain insisted on his attention. He checked the wound, and it was grave. The bullet had pierced through his arm and ricocheted near his left lung. Every breath caused more intense pain, and he coughed up blood. He tried to reach for his phone, but the phone was lost somewhere along the way. Damn, bad luck. He slowly propped against the wall and stood up, then slowly made his way out of the room. He felt the room was spinning and his peripheral vision shrinking. He reached out his hands and touched the stairs rail. He could hardly see now. He forced himself to take one step, then another up the stairs. It felt like forever. The last thing he remembered was the world starting to spin around him.
“Ansen––Elise––I’m sorry…” His body rolled down the stairs like a rag doll and landed next to the refrigerator.
Inside the blaring ambulance, Ansen was becoming increasingly anxious of what was happening with Finley. He had not received an update from him for twenty minutes. He figured he should have arrived at the scene by now, so something must have gone down, else he would have gotten a call. He knew how these operations worked, though, so calling Finley was not a wise decision. The ambulance cut through the traffic without much problem, and they were fast approaching the downtown hospital emergency room.
“We’ll be arriving at the hospital in about five minutes,” the paramedic informed Ansen.
“How is she doing?”
“Her vitals are stable. We didn’t get a chance to fill out the information about her history. Did you know of any prior medical condition that could have caused her seizure?”
Ansen shook his head. “No.”
“Oh, sir,” the paramedic said. “I have several more things to fill out in the form; can you answer some of the following information?”
“Sure.” Ansen mentally tried to block out the events that Finley had to deal with. Not knowing what was going on was maybe for the best. I’ll call him in due time. Ansen looked down at Maria’s calm face. Her parchment-like skin now wore a pink hue. It was almost like looking at someone Ansen didn’t know. The wailing of the ambulance startled Ansen.
“Damn cars, get your fat asses out of the way!” the driver yelled.
The paramedic shook his head, then yelled back at the driver, “Hey, Rob, at least we are dealing with someone with a real medical emergency. Not some crackhead that hears voices and pukes all over you.”
The driver acknowledged with a dry laugh, then pressed the siren button again and swiveled the large van around the blocking cars. Ansen was counting the minutes, hoping that Maria would soon wake up. When is Finley going to call me back? Ansen decided he couldn’t wait any longer, so he dialed the number, but he only got his voicemail. He decided he would go check out the Sandpoint Way area himself after the hospital admitted Maria, but right now, there was nothing he could do. The ambulance reached the hospital and the medics pushed the door open. Several medical personnel were waiting at the door. They rushed Maria into the hospital through the side entrance.
One of the nurses asked if Ansen was a relative or member of the family. Ansen said he was Maria’s boyfriend.
“It's okay; please stay in the waiting room,” the nurse reassured him. “She’s in good hands now. Let the nurse station know who you are with and give them her information, and then someone will come inform you of her situation after we checked her out. If you have her family’s information, please contact them right now.”
Ansen nodded absently. His mind was still wondering where Finley and Elise were. He suddenly received a notification on his phone. He pulled it out and saw that it was the tracking signal for Elise. There was also a text message: 555 12th Avenue, via Standpoint Way. Ansen ran out the door but then stopped. He realized that he didn’t have transportation.
Thirty minutes later, the cab showed up and he hopped in. He flashed the address to the cab driver and sank back into the seat, looking at the text message. He replied back, Where are you now? Why are you using a different phone number? There was no response. It was the longest half-hour ride in Ansen's life. As they approached Sandpoint Way, they saw fire trucks and ambulance vans whizzing by them. “Oh, no,” Ansen whispered. Five minutes later, they saw a section of the road to 12th Avenue was blocked off.
“Señor, it looks like there’s a fire in the direction you are heading. Do you live near the street?” the cab driver asked.
Ansen opened the door and told the driver to wait for him. He could immediately smell the smoke and see the raging blaze flickering into the sky. The entire house was consumed by the flames. Fire hoses were dousing streams of white retardants at the house, but the situation seemed irreparable. He saw a score of firefighters and police officers on scene trying to contain the fire and keep the onlookers away. A nearby police officer was giving them the sign to back away; Ansen decided it was too risky to show his face to the police.
“Hope everyone got out of that fire. Man––That house is totally lost, you know? Hope they’ve got insurance,” the cab driver murmured and giggled.
Ansen checked his phone, but there were no more messages. The consequences of this disastrous night were not lost on him. Soon, Mr. Reed would find out how this night went down in a glorious flame-out. And when he learned the operation was a bust, Ansen would wish that he was never born. If he wanted to live, he needed to skip town, now. He thought about Maria, and the awful things that Reed's folks would do to her. There was no way he could take her along tonight after the se
izure episode. Ansen knew Mr. Reed well enough that even if he got out of town, there was no guarantee he would survive. They might already be following him now, especially after the ambulance showing up at the dinner party. Ansen could taste the fear growing inside of him. The survival instinct was so strong that the only thing he could think of was to flee. There was still time to get out of here, but he had to leave right away.
“Where to now, sir?” the cab driver’s eyes waited for Ansen in the rear-view mirror.
Ansen looked out the window. He didn’t have a good escape plan, and now he had to improvise. “Take me to the airport.”
“The airport?” the cab driver huffed. “It's going to be $60. Sí?”
“I’ll give you $100 if you can get there in half an hour.”
On their way to the airport, Ansen's mind was racing. He did have $20k cash and a motorcycle parked in a self-service garage. If he could get out of town tonight and find a way to disappear, there was still a small chance he could survive. He tried to block out of his mind what would happen to Maria. He was even surprised that he was remotely concerned about her.
The cab crawled through the residential area and finally got onto the main Sandpoint Way. As the cab veered back, the driver groaned. “Shit, I need to take a piss.”
“Now?” Ansen was alerted to this sudden need from the cabbie.
“Sorry, sir. I have a kidney problem, and I can't wait. I know a construction site on our way, and there's a honey bucket outside. I'll be in and out.” He then spoke into the phone to the central station, notifying his new destination.
The cab took a quick detour from the main street and stopped near a small apartment construction site. The cab driver pulled up next to a honey bucket and stopped the car.
“So, when are you going to pull the gun on me?” Ansen quipped.
The cab driver hesitated for a second, then quickly turned and pointed a handgun at Ansen.
“Lovely. I’m not armed, so you can put that toy away.” Ansen let out a dry laugh.
The cab driver took his key, left the light on, and got out of the car with his gun trained at Ansen.
“So do you want to know when I figured out that you work for Mr. Reed?” Ansen snickered. “It's the stink from your underwear, you piece of shit. Bet you wear the same size as Mr. Reed himself. Come on, pull the trigger! Mr. Reed's office will have so many FBI agents up his ass that he will need to get an enema every day for the rest of his life.”
The cab driver kneed Ansen in the stomach. Ansen dropped to the ground and cringed in pain.
“We were starting to wonder if you were going to show at the house. It was a big mess in there thanks to your trusted transporter, Finley. Where is Elise? Where did you hide her?”
Ansen tried to get up, but a short spasm of coughing brought him down to his knees again. “Elise? I thought you got her? She’s not in the house? Finley said he located her inside the house.”
The cab driver lost his patience again and swiped Ansen's face with the butt of the gun. “Que te jodan! When we got there, there were three dead bodies, but no Elise, man––Craig is dead, and another dude who don’t look human with his head sliced off. Also your Finley is dead at the bottom of the stairs with a gunshot wound. My men followed Finley to the house, waited nearby but didn’t see them come out, and then we heard a loud bang and went in to see. The whole backyard window was blown open like there was a gas explosion. To clean up your mess, we had to remove the bodies and burn the damn place down. Now you owe Mr. Reed an explanation for this whole fuck-up, and you owe me and my boys clean shirts.” He looked at Ansen with his dark eyes and then murmured into this phone.
Ansen knew something went completely awry that evening, all the careful planning went down the shithole, but why would Elise kill Craig and a stranger, then run away without Finley? Perhaps Finley got in to save her, but was overcome by his injury…and Elise ran away and no one knew where she was. He waved his hand at the driver. “Take me to Mr. Reed. We have business to discuss.”
The cab driver's eyes flickered, but did not say a word; he looked like he was waiting for someone.
Minutes later, a large SUV pulled up behind the cab, and several men got out. They all looked sweaty and haggard; many of them had blood stains smeared across their white shirts and their sleeves were rolled up to their elbows.
“You gentleman hunting for me?” Ansen sneered.
“Mr. Reed wants to see you, now,” a short stocky man said coldly. He was flanked by two linebacker-sized brutes. “What a fucked-up bloody mess it was in the house. We had to dump the bodies and torch the place, but there was no Elise! She got away.”
“It’s disappointing because I’m expected a limo. Mr. Reed has gone cheap, I see; how is this not a disappointment?” Ansen cringed.
The cab driver came over and hit him hard on the side of his head with his pistol. “You say another word out of your pie hole and I will personally push shit down your throat.”
“Relax, guys, I'm coming with you.” Ansen spat out the blood from his mouth onto the ground. The two large men pushed him against the cab and frisked him up and down for weapons.
“He's clean, sir,” one of the large men said to the cab driver.
“Do you know what kind of shit you are in?” The cab driver made a swift hit in Ansen’s solar plexus with his fist. He cocked his fist again and aimed at Ansen’s head. He hesitated.
“Boss, Mr. Reed needs him alive,” one of the men whispered.
Ansen took a deep breath, then threw up his half-digested dinner onto the cab driver’s shoes, but he continued to laugh. “Tell Mr. Reed...if he hurts Maria in any way, he will never see his money again.”
“Shut the fuck up!” The cab driver backed away, then shook his shoes with his leg. Chunks of foul-smelling digested bits flew across the ground. He tucked his shirt and wiped his sleeves against the crease. “Get this piece of shit out of here.” The two large men yanked Ansen up from the ground and pushed him into the large SUV. The two large men went into the SUV and sandwiched Ansen in the middle.
The cab driver opened the driver's door and pulled the driver out. “I’m personally going to deliver this bag of shit to Mr. Reed. I will enjoy watching you getting cut up into pieces.”
“Pedro!” Ansen suddenly burst out with his swollen lips. He tried to lean forward into the cab driver.
The cab driver froze, then turned to stare at Ansen.
One of the large men forced Ansen back into the seat.
“I was trying to remember what your name tag said your name was, and I could not recall what I saw in your cab. Thank God I remember now!” Ansen laughed out loud.
The SUV made a quick U-turn and peeled off in a dust of smoke. The yellow cab soon followed.
Ten miles away, up on a rooftop of an old church, Meredith had her claws tightly wrapped around Elise's body. She could see the poison inside Elise taking effect. Her skin was turning scaly and her muscles and veins coiled and quivered.
“My poor ingénue—” Meredith cried. “So much pain; such tragedy. You reminded me of June…” She sighed. “Maria is your long-lost sister? This memory can’t be a burden on you; I’ll rid you of that.”
Meredith circled Elise with an admiring eye. “This is a one-way trip for my revenge, and I shall cook your blood with poisons. One bite from you and Queen will be retired forever. Answer me Elise, who do you obey and revere?”
“You,” Elise whispered, her right hand holding the Kizu.
“Good, now let’s make you into a weapon.” Meredith laughed hysterically. She raised her arms and revealed the three boxes she possessed. She spun her arms in the air, and the three ash boxes reacted with their arms and tentacles: the Weep spat out goo that formed hard shells around Elise’s body and gave her long claws and sharp teeth; the Elder gave her resistance to spells; the Sonnet gave her the ability to hear thoughts and cast spells.
“Wonderful,” smiled Meredith.
23
&nb
sp; Postmortem
The large SUV screeched to a stop outside a nondescript warehouse. Ansen lost track of where they were and his captors did not bother to blindfold him––not a good sign. It meant there was a good chance that they were not planning to let Ansen go after the “meeting.”
The car's beefy door opened, and they pulled Ansen out of the SUV. By now, they already had tied him up with plastic zip-ties.
“Ansen, my boy, or should I use your real name, Kai? I thought you and your crew were good at this? You, especially, with a history of business espionage, and business deals around the world, this should be piece of cake. What happened?” Reed was wearing an all-white shirt and pleated pants. On his head was a white thatched hat, and he held an ivory cane in his left hand. He walked gingerly closer to Ansen and looked at him with mixed emotions of amusement and thinly concealed anger.
“I have been in the business for so, so long. The last time I saw a screw-up of this magnitude was when my redneck cousin tried to jump onto a running horse and broke his back.” He knocked his cane on the ground with emphasis. “So, when I heard what had happened tonight, I had to check my calendar and make sure it wasn't April Fool’s day. And you can imagine my big disappointment when I learned that it wasn't. Boy, Ansen, Ansen, you have screwed up big tonight. You think that I would trust such an important mission without someone looking over you?”
“I was going to send you a postcard about the mission, but this would do, too,” Ansen quipped.
“It's good to know that you still have your dry sense of humor, but you know we still have unfinished business.” Reed walked slowly away from him. He made a gesture to one of the men in the room, and the man went next door and brought in a girl with a scarecrow mask on. The girl was tied up, both her hands and her feet. She tried to scream when the man grabbed her by the arm and yanked her into the room.