Boston Posh

by Wol-vriey

  (From being initially disgusted with Bulldog, Gorgeous now found herself immensely turned on by him. Not by either his looks or character, but by his primal brutishness, a physicality the likes of which she’d rarely encountered.

  He literally reminded her of the mythical creatures Ox-Head and Horse-Face—the Guardians of the Underworld—all strength and no sense.

  As they’d jogged up together, she’d grown wetter and wetter between the legs. Now her nipples felt tingly, they pressed hard against her bra. She imagined Bulldog’s flat lips bruising them, suckling on them, his rough calloused hands sliding over her hips, squeezing her ass hard . . .)

  Bulldog looked at her. “Dragon grip pussy clench? For real?”

  Gorgeous nodded, her face flushed.

  Bulldog grinned broadly.

  “What the fuck was that?” Posh said. “You two better not be planning—”

  “We wouldn’t dare attack you,” Gorgeous interrupted. “You look contagious.”

  “Yeah, Bulldog said. “Like shit come to life.” He smiled lewdly. “And besides, we’re in a hurry to go screw.”

  Gorgeous pointed. “Just keep going down the road. Herbie went to help out Malone.”

  Posh felt a chill. “Malone?”

  Gorgeous nodded. “He’s injured. Someone cut him up bad. Herbie’s getting him some help.”

  Posh gaped at them, then still wordless, she gunned up the car and sped off.

  Fuck! she was thinking. You two dumb horny rabbits! Herbie isn’t going to help Malone, he wants to kill him!

  CHAPTER 31

  Malone

  Five minutes after Herbie’s disappearance, Malone’s body finally gave out on him. It quit on the willpower that had forced it across the city.

  He collapsed to the ground, rolled over onto his back, and lay staring through The Grid at the evening sky overhead.

  Looks like I’m dino dinner tonight, he thought.

  Posh drove up a minute later.

  She leapt out of the car and ran to Malone’s side. She gaped at his mutilated body and the female head he clutched in his hand.

  Malone opened his eyes wearily. “Who’re you? My guardian angel?”

  Posh nodded. “Sort of. I’m your new girlfriend.”

  Malone smiled. “Close enough.” He saw she was looking around. “You expecting anyone?”

  “My pimp.”

  Malone grinned. “Knew you were too good to be true. You’re a paid girlfriend?”

  “I’m retired.” She tried hauling him up. “Help me out here, will ya? You weigh a ton.”

  “It’s kind of hard,” Malone said. With a huge effort he made it to his feet. He stumbled across to the car. Posh opened the rear door. Malone sprawled across the seat on his back. He folded his legs in so she could shut the door.

  Posh was disgusted with the way he was holding Rachel Fischer’s head to his chest.

  “Can’t you let go of that head?” she grunted.

  “Uh, uh. You’ve no idea of the hell I went through to get it. It’s worth fifty thousand dollars.”

  Posh didn’t argue. Malone looked like he’d been through hell. Once again she looked around for Herbie. Where the hell has the shithead gotten to? I’m still gonna fucking kill you, Herbie. Then I’ll die myself. But at least I’ll die satisfied that I took you with me.

  She got in the car.

  “Where were you headed?” she asked Malone.

  “Take me to Chinatown Park—Ma Cure’s place. You know there? The old pagoda theatre?”

  “I know it,” Posh said.

  Then she saw that Malone was staring intently at her. “What?”

  “You’re pretty. At least you used to be before you caught your skin disease somewhere. That stinks. I knew a guy with the same problem once. Oswald Watkins—a Syrian war vet. Has to be dead by now—he was always suicidal as a lemming.”

  Posh couldn’t reply. Knuckles white on the steering, she drove on, forcing back the tears threatening to spurt from her eyes.

  CHAPTER 32

  Malone, Posh, Jade, Ma

  “You look like—” Jade began.

  “Don’t you say it!” Posh snapped. “Just help me get Malone up to Ma.”

  Jade nodded. They woman-handled Malone into the house and dragged him to the top floor.

  “I don’t get it,” Jade said. “What’s with the head?”

  “It’s the woman I went to rescue,” Malone said.

  Jade stared into Rachel’s dead staring eyes. “Yeah, you rescued her all right.”

  Malone smiled. “Not my fault. Honest. She was a total fucking prude. She didn’t want to come, so I forced her.”

  Posh winced at the pun.

  Jade grimaced too. “He’s doped out of his fucking mind. Let’s put him down and I’ll fetch Ma.

  ***

  Two hours later, Malone was almost himself again.

  Ma Cure had first anesthetized Malone with acu-puncture needles. Then she and Jade had washed all the blood off him—both inside and out.

  Ma then trimmed off the destroyed parts of Malone’s liver, coated the rest with a healing salve, and stitched his belly back together.

  Finally, she’d given Malone several potions to drink—Chinese herbal infusions that both wiped all the drugs out his system, and filled him with strength.

  He sat now in a corner, drinking hot soup. Between sips, he filled Ma, Jade, and Posh in on what had happened at Frank and Rachel’s wharf hideout.

  “Yang Yang could have fucking warned me,” he said angrily. “I almost lost my life back there.”

  “She not tell you as fun,” Ma said, her withered face creased in a smile.

  “Fun? That’s sick,” Posh said. “He’s right—he could have been killed.”

  Ma shook her head, swiveling it inside the paper loop that secured it to her nine-year-old neck more firmly than a spine. “No, not sick at all. Yang Yang, goddess. Divine idea of fun different from mortal.” She thought a moment. “Most likely she see in future that you survive anyway. Remember she like you—for when you rescue her from brother Cheung Lee.”

  Posh scowled.

  She looked at Malone. “They actually ate you?”

  Malone nodded. He turned to look at Rachel’s head, now also washed and wrapped in transparent plastic. “Likely you’re right that she knew I’d survive,” he told Ma. “It still hurt though.”

  Ma grinned broadly, revealing all ten teeth in her mouth. “Painful experience part of human growth.”

  Malone nodded. His mind went back to the day he’d faced Uncle Lee’s golem.

  Uncle Lee’s Golem Part 2

  Arms crossed and hidden in the sleeves of a long red robe, Uncle Lee stood by an interior rose garden.

  He regarded Malone coldly.

  Uncle Lee was as old as Ma. Wiry and withered, with long white hair and white mustaches that hung well below his chin.

  But his ancientness only applied to his head. Like Ma’s, his body was young—broad-shouldered and muscular.

  Like Ma also, he had a single paper loop wrapped around his neck.

  Back then—just like with Ma—Malone had no idea that Uncle Lee’s body and head each came from a different source.

  “What want here, young man?” Uncle Lee asked Malone. His voice was ghostly.

  Malone smiled. “Your sister asked me to collect a statue of hers.”

  Uncle Lee raised both eyebrows, then smiled dismissively. “Yang Yang is family heirloom. Ma, me, family. No business of yours. Leave now.”

  Malone shook his head. “Ma Cure paid me—that makes her business my business. Hand the statue over.”

  “Leave or I throw out.”

  Malone smirked. He pulled out his gun. “Not without your sister’s property. Fucking hand it over.”

  Uncle Lee smiled. “Ah, you one of stupid American. I think most of you extinct now, but I wrong. Okay, follow, I give heirloom.”

  He turned and led the way.

  Malone followed
him through a door, wondering where the Golem Ma Cure had warned him about was.

  They entered an inner hall.

  Uncle Lee pointed. “There is goddess. Take if can.”

  Malone regarded the four-feet-tall half-woman half-snake statue. Beside it stood the golem.

  Malone winced.

  The golem was seven feet tall. Its head was a single chunk of seeping flesh. No eyes, nose, or mouth, just raw bleeding meat, cut straight from an animal.

  Its body was similar—chunks of meat and bone assembled into human form. A flesh patchwork cobbled together by magic.

  Dinosaur teeth stuck out of its body at random. Here and there Malone saw patches of scaly dino skin, some of which folded inside the creature.

  The only properly positioned parts in the monster’s composition were the raptor claws that formed both its ‘hands.’

  The meat sentinel stood motionless beside Yang Yang.

  Malone shrugged off his fear of it. It’s meat. Meat will fry. Gun held at the ready, he stepped towards the Snake Lady statue.

  The golem came alive immediately. It stepped in front of the statue.

  “If leave now, you still live,” Uncle Lee said. “Attack golem, die.”

  Malone turned to look at him.

  Uncle Lee sat cross-legged on the floor, holding a piece of raw meat. Malone grimaced in disgust. The piece of meat was carved in shape of a large doll.

  “Aren’t you a little too old for toys?” he asked.

  Uncle Lee laughed. “Like say, you fool. Stupid kill you.” He began chanting slowly to the doll.

  Malone ignored him. He turned back to face the meat creature guarding the statue he was after. It hadn’t altered its position.

  Malone took a step toward it. It took a step toward him. He stepped right, it moved block him off. He went left, it did the same.

  This is bullshit, he thought. He shot it.

  The blast—at full power—should have reduced the golem to ash. But it did nothing. The meat creature was totally undamaged.

  While Malone came to terms with this, it grabbed him and flung him across the room.

  He crashed into some crockery. He got up painfully, holstered his gun, and headed for the golem, which was also heading for him.

  They met in the middle of the hall. The golem swiped at Malone with its claws. He ducked its talons and caught its wrists. They grappled like that, his hands sinking into its wet flesh. Meat juice squished out around his fingers as he wrestled it.

  He was quickly overpowered. The creature was too big, too strong. It bent Malone backward, then freed its left arm from his grip and raked it down his chest, shredding his jacket.

  Malone yelped from the pain of his skin and muscle ripping open.

  Behind him, Uncle Lee’s chanting grew louder.

  Malone flung a punch at the golem’s featureless face. His hand left a dent in the wet meat, but the monster was unfazed.

  (The golem’s total silence during their struggle made concrete Malone’s understanding that he battled something undead.)

  It ripped him with its claws again, slashing across his right shoulder.

  Malone kicked against it, freeing himself.

  He leapt back, then stood panting, gripping his shoulder. Blood dribbled between his fingers. Blood similarly poured down his chest, which felt on fire.

  This fucking thing will kill me, he realized. It has to have a weakness, but what the hell is it?

  Uncle Lee’s voice grew yet louder still behind him, building to a crescendo that Malone knew presaged evil for him.

  He turned to look at the old man.

  Uncle Lee still sat cross-legged on the floor. He held his meat puppet overhead. His eyes were fixed on it in religious reverence. His lips curved in an evil smile as he chanted.

  Malone heard the golem moving behind him.

  He spun around as it launched a chair at him.

  He ducked, but not fast enough.

  The chair hit Malone a hard blow on the left side of his chest, before spinning away and crashing into a display of ceremonial plates.

  The plates blew apart.

  Malone went down to one knee, then leapt up again.

  He winced in pain. His side fucking hurt—he suspected he’d broken at least two ribs.

  The golem next bent over a locked eight-feet-long, four-feet-high oak cabinet. It wrenched the massive piece of furniture off the ground.

  Malone groaned on seeing how effortlessly it lifted the cabinet.

  Its contents rattled ominously.

  It’s powered by magic, he thought. Voodoo shi—”

  Understanding hit Malone then. Voodoo. The golem is being controlled by that fucking doll Uncle Lee is holding.

  He jerked out his blaster again.

  Oak cabinet held overhead, the golem turned toward Malone.

  Malone spun toward Uncle Lee and shot at the meat puppet he held aloft. Then he spun back to face the golem.

  Behind Malone, Uncle Lee stared in disbelief at the empty space above his head where his hands and the meat puppet had been seconds earlier. Malone had incinerated them. Lips still moving in his incantation, Uncle Lee gaped at his charred wrist stumps.

  Powered by Uncle Lee’s last command before the meat puppet was destroyed, the golem flung the huge cabinet at Malone.

  Malone leapt out of the way. The cabinet sailed past him and crashed down on Uncle Lee.

  Next, the golem slowly fell apart into chunks of raw meat.

  Malone rushed over to help Uncle Lee. Except for a single kicking leg, the ancient Chinese elder was invisible beneath the heavy oak furniture. A flood of blood pumped from under the cabinet edge.

  Uncle Lee’s leg kicked twice more and stopped.

  Malone winced. He turned away. Gripping his aching side, he walked past the still disintegrating meat monster. He picked up the Snake Lady statue, which was lighter than it looked, and left.

  ***

  Back to Now again

  Malone stared at the Dead God’s Sword hanging on the wall opposite him. The weapon was long and curved, with a handle of delicately worked white jade. While bandaging his wounds back then, Ma Cure had said it would cut through anything, metal, concrete—whatever. Just not through Uncle Lee’s dino-meat android.

  Now her aged voice broke into his thoughts.

  “Yang Yang still want gratitude fuck you,” she told him. “She old school goddess—always have wet pussy for hero who save her.”

  Malone sipped his soup and blushed.

  “Stop teasing him, Ma,” Jade said. “And why’re you calling the goddess old school? You’re old school.”

  Ma laughed. “True, but her school much ancient than mine.” Her eyes twinkled at Malone. “What say? You try divine sex?”

  Malone laughed “How? She’s a snake, Ma.”

  Ma smiled serenely. “Snake fuck well. She know many tricks that—”

  “Yeow!” Posh yelped then. “Yeoooooowwwwww!”

  The other three turned to look at her. Then they gaped.

  Posh’s skin was falling off her face. Strip after strip peeled off and slithered down onto her neck. She picked a strip off her chest and stared at it in incomprehension.

  “Yeooowww!” she screamed again, when, like the petals of an opening flower, all her remaining facial skin flopped off, leaving her face a raw bleeding mess. Next, her entire scalp broke apart—skin and hair popped off her head like it was being yanked off, leaving her skull exposed.

  Jade winced at the sight. Her stomach churned.

  Malone dropped his bowl of soup. “This is fucking bad,” he said softly. “Trust me, Ma—I’ve seen it happen before.”

  Mewling like a cat, Posh now toppled over onto the floor. She lay twitching, while all the skin on her arms peeled off. Her clothes stained red as the rest of her skin peeled off under them.

  Malone and Jade rushed to her side. Ma joined them.

  Posh twitched and gaped, mumbling incoherencies, in too much agony to
think straight.

  Ma bent over Posh and studied her now totally raw body, then turned to Malone.

  “Not know disease,” she said. “We consult goddess. She for sure know what do.”

  Malone nodded, he glanced down once at the mess Posh had become, then bared his arm. “Bleed me.”

  Ma nodded to Jade. Jade rushed in to fetch Yang Yang.

  Ma smiled at Malone. “You very good man.”

  He made a face. “She brought me here. I’d be worse than shit if I let her die.”

  ***

  Yang Yang—her lips painted with his blood—smiled at Malone. Her mouth looked like a rose garland slung between her white cheeks.

  Malone chilled at the amorality in her eyes—their reptile suggestion that she knew neither right nor wrong.

  Yang Yang said something in her heavy accented Chinese.

  “She want know how rescue go,” Ma translated. Beside her, Jade sat cross-legged, chanting to keep the goddess animated.

  (This was something that Malone had wondered about more than once: If he said yes to the goddess’ request that he sleep with her, would Jade need to be in the room also, chanting so the deity could fuck?)

  Malone winced at the ‘rescue’ question.

  Yang Yang laughed, then said some more.

  “She say know you survive,” Ma said. “Only liver die.”

  Posh, lying beside the goddess, groaned.

  Fearing infection, none of them had dared to touch her. Instead, they’d formed their summoning circle around her. The floor around Posh was stained with her blood and body fluids.

  “She’s dying, Ma,” Malone whispered. “Ask her quick.”

  Yang Yang said something before Ma could ask. Then she took a deep sip of Malone’s blood from her bowl. Her perfect body swayed on its serpent coils.

  “Say, still cute, tight buttocks—good hero quality.”

  Malone gasped in exasperation. His eyes pleaded with Ma.

  She nodded. She bowed to Yang Yang, explained in Chinese what they wanted.

  The Snake Lady replied. Ma looked at her confused. Even Jade looked up from her chanting, perplexed.