Tortured Spirits

by Gregory Lamberson

  “Your master? In many legends, you’re confused with Satan.”

  “I am not Satan! I am not a demon! I am a renowned and respected Loa in all dimensions!”

  “I don’t respect you. I don’t even fear you. I don’t care what Loa you claim to know. In my book, you’re just a thug who abuses women. Let her go and face me man to man. If you don’t, everyone in this chamber will know you’re nothing but a coward, and we’ll spread the word. On this plane, your reputation will suffer.”

  Kalfu turned to Malvado. “Push him into the circle, and I’ll teach you everything I taught Catoute. You won’t need a bokor to work black magic for you anymore. I’ll make certain Pavot remains your kingdom.”

  Malvado raised his eyebrows.

  “Never trust a demon,” Jake said. “They’ll betray you every time.”

  The color of Kalfu’s skin turned bright red. “I’m not a demon!”

  Malvado took a tentative step toward Jake.

  But Jorge, still holding the .38, shook his head. “Don’t make me kill you after I just decided to spare your life.”

  Malvado stopped in his tracks.

  “I will make you the most powerful man on earth!” Kalfu said.

  Malvado spread his arms in a helpless gesture.

  Clenching his free hand into a fist, Kalfu jerked Maria to her feet, and his tongue slithered into her ear.

  Maria grimaced.

  “I’ll teach you pleasures undreamed of, all the while practicing unimaginable torture on your soul. We’ll be linked for eternity, and you’ll give birth to my spawn.”

  Maria squeezed her eyes shut.

  Enough, Jake thought. “I’ll give you one last chance, Kalfu: let her go. You have my word I’ll stand in her place.”

  Kalfu smiled. “If you make a deal with a higher being and renege on your promise, your soul will wind up in the Dark Realm when you die no matter what. Cross me, and you’ll only guarantee that you’ll become my bride.”

  Lowering his hand, Jake dropped his Glock on the floor. “Let her go.”

  With an inhuman snarl, Kalfu shoved Maria forward, and she staggered out of the circle into Jake’s arms.

  “Don’t do this,” she said.

  He caressed her face. “It’s already done.”

  Tears streaked her cheeks. “Then stay here with me. At least we’ll have some time together.”

  “This way is better. Trust me.”

  Maria threw her arms around his neck and kissed him, and he tasted her one more time. When he broke the embrace, she clung to him.

  Jake eased her away with his hand. “Never give up hope.”

  Maria inched back from the circle, avoiding Malvado.

  Jake faced the red-skinned demon before him.

  “Come to me,” Kalfu said.

  Jake took a deep breath, exhaled, and swallowed.

  “Don’t do it,” Jorge said.

  Jake stepped into the circle.

  Kalfu charged at him, his eyes blazing.

  Jake stood still and rigid, awaiting his fate. Please let this work.

  Kalfu flung his arms around Jake and opened his mouth wide, bearing sharklike teeth that had grown too long for the inside of his mouth. But his arms never closed around Jake. Instead, the impact of the collision threw him backwards and knocked Jake out of the circle. Kalfu landed on his ass, his penis slapping his right thigh. He shook his head with a dumbfounded expression.

  Jake glanced at Maria, who wore a similar look of bewilderment. Then he stepped back into the circle.

  Kalfu ran at Jake again, but this time Jake shoved him aside.

  “What have you done?” Kalfu said in an enraged voice that echoed around the chamber.

  Jake tore open his shirt, revealing the medallion he had taken from Russel. “Surprise.”

  Kalfu screamed. Sores appeared all over his body, and six-inch horns emerged from the sores, splitting his flesh apart. The horns protruded from his torso, limbs, and forehead, even between his legs. Blood seeped from the wounds and formed red steam.

  “The Anting-Anting,” Jake said. “Russel took it from Tower, and I took it from him. Tower’s research files revealed the amulet only has power within a summoning circle. Old Nick’s entire penthouse was a summoning circle, which is why he wore an Anting-Anting when he faced Cain. Too bad I don’t have a magic sword to go with it.”

  Kalfu closed his hands into fists, the thorns that had formed on his inner fingers digging into his palms. His body trembled as he crouched in a fighting stance. “You tricked me!”

  Jake smiled. “It happens. Get over yourself.”

  Kalfu turned to Malvado once more. “Give me the woman!”

  Screaming, Malvado looked down at the white snake that had wrapped itself around his ankles.

  Pharah! Jake thought.

  Without hesitation, Maria charged Malvado. To Jake’s amazement, she leapt into the air and kicked his back with both legs. Malvado flew past Jake and crashed into Kalfu, impaling himself on several of the Loa’s horns like a man in an iron maiden. Maria landed on one side and scrambled back to her feet. Malvado stared straight into Kalfu’s glowing red orbs, his mouth opening but nothing coming out.

  The white snake uncurled itself from around the dictator’s ankles and slithered toward the circle’s edge.

  With Malvado’s larger body still impaled on his horns, Kalfu ran after the snake and attempted to stomp on it, but the snake vanished and his foot struck the floor. Seeing the glint of the pommel protruding from Malvado’s belt, Jake drew the sword free. Kalfu peeled the giant man from his bloodied horns and flung him to the floor. Blood gushed from Malvado’s multiple wounds, and he didn’t move.

  Kalfu faced Jake, who braced his stump against the demon’s chest for leverage, and drove the bloodstained blade into his sternum and out his back. Kalfu screamed, then pitched forward, bringing his monstrous features within inches of Jake’s face. Malvado’s dark soul flickered behind them.

  “You lose,” Jake said. “Now go away.”

  Kalfu continued to scream, red steam engulfing him. Then he dropped through the floor as if a trapdoor had opened. Malvado’s sword clattered on the floor, and the demon’s scream and the dissipitating steam lingered.

  Jake left the circle and Maria ran into his arms.

  “Did you kill him?” Jorge said.

  “No,” Jake said. “I only hurt his pride.”

  Maria examined the Anting-Anting on his chest: a warrior slaying a demon with a sword. “How did you know that would work?”

  “I didn’t. But it was the only chance I had.”

  She swallowed. “Then he really could have taken your soul?”

  “The odds were in his favor.”

  Maria kissed him again, but this time it wasn’t good-bye.

  THIRTY-EIGHT

  Emerging from the church, they surveyed the bodies littering the road. Great flames consumed the palace, with no fire trucks in sight. The horse Jake had ridden had disappeared. Maria still wore only her undergarments; she had refused to wear the clothing of any of the people killed below or the zonbies or anything in Catoute’s church. Jake held her in his good arm.

  “If anyone hears me,” Jorge said into his hand radio, “come in.”

  A burst of static. “This is Renaud.”

  “What’s your status?”

  “Pavot is a free island, thanks to all of us. Those … things helped us, then stopped moving. They’re all dead now.”

  “Andre is dead, too. So is Pharah. And Malvado, Maxime, and Catoute.”

  “A lot of good people and a lot of bad people. There’s dancing in the streets. Come join us in Pavot City.”

  “I’m at the palace.”

  “We can see the flames from here.”

  “I’m with the Americanos.”

  “Bring them. They’re national heroes.”

  Jorge looked at Jake and Maria, who shook their heads.

  “They need medical treatment, nothing too seriou
s. I’m going to take them to a safe location. I’m sure the celebrating will continue tomorrow.”

  “Copy that.”

  Jorge hitched the radio to his belt. “Now we need to find a vehicle.”

  Jorge pulled up to the resort in an open jeep. Music blasted from all over the grounds.

  “Our old suite?” Maria said.

  “It’s only been a few days,” Jake said. “Our reservation’s still good. We just need a key to our room.”

  “I’ll stop at the front desk,” Jorge said.

  “I wish I still had my clothes,” Maria said.

  Jorge climbed out of the jeep. “I’ll stop by the Church of the White Snake in the morning. If I can, I’ll bring your clothes. If not, we’ll get you new ones tomorrow.”

  “Will you ask the front desk for some bandages? I’d like to change Jake’s dressing.”

  “Oui.”

  They watched him enter the office.

  “Thank God he made it,” Maria said.

  “Thank God all three of us did.”

  “Poor Edgar.”

  After Jorge left them in their suite, they showered together and scrubbed each other clean. The front desk didn’t have any suitable dressing for Jake’s arm, but Jorge promised to bring some in the morning.

  Maria washed their clothes in the sink and hung them outside on the patio to dry in the warm night air, and then they crawled into bed nude and held on to each other. They didn’t make love but slept face-to-face.

  An hour later, Jake stirred when Maria sat up beside him. “What is it?”

  Light flickered outside the window, and he thought he heard a distant rifle shot.

  Maria got out of bed and walked over to the glass door, which she opened. “Come here.”

  He followed her onto the balcony. Fireworks exploded in the sky, casting dazzling colors onto Maria’s naked body. He slid his hand around her smooth waist.

  “Happy July Fourth,” she said.

  “Yeah. Happy Bastille Day.”

  This light show they watched together.

  Jake and Maria pulled on their clothes when they heard a knock on the door. Morning sunlight streamed through the windows. Jake opened the door for Jorge. To his surprise, Ramona stood beside him.

  “You remember my cousin?” Jorge said.

  “Of course. I understand I owe you my life.”

  “I’m sorry I couldn’t do more,” Ramona said.

  Maria joined them.

  Jake gestured inside. “Come on in.”

  “Ramona’s come to change your dressing,” Jorge said. “We brought you an eye patch, too.”

  “Great.” Jake sat on the cane-framed sofa, and Ramona sat beside him and unwrapped the dressing on his stump. Jake put on the black eye patch.

  “We can’t get through to the airport,” Maria said.

  “The telephone lines were down. They’re working now. Try them again.”

  Jake watched the dressing come off his stump and examined his arm. Sutures held the pink folds of flesh together. It was his first time seeing the wound since Russel had cut off his hand. He glanced at Maria, who looked away.

  “Let me see if I can get us a flight out of here,” she said and left the room.

  Ramona inspected the wound. “It looks clean. You should heal nicely.” She applied some disinfectant, than wrapped the fresh dressing around the remainder of his forearm.

  “What are the casualties?” Jake said.

  Jorge sat in a chair. “It’s too soon to tell. We suffered losses, of course. Malvado’s forces suffered far worse.”

  “What happens now?”

  “La Mère is returning in a few days. She has graciously accepted to serve as our interim president until elections can be held.”

  “She’s a symbolic choice.”

  Jorge nodded. “Symbolism is important right now. Andre’s story must have a triumphant ending.”

  Propaganda, Jake thought. “And Malvado’s forces?”

  “El Miedo is no longer empty. It’s overcrowded. So are our municipal jails. Some of his soldiers will serve life sentences for war crimes. Some will serve shorter sentences. And others will be permitted to rejoin society. But all of them wear the black snake on their arms and will pay a price.”

  “What about you?”

  “I’m a musician. I’ll go back to playing music. At least now I can audition for the national orchestra. But first we must bury the dead and honor them.”

  Maria returned a few minutes later. “I got us onto a flight leaving at 2:00 p.m. Um, I need some clothes.”

  “We’ll take you shopping,” Jorge said.

  “I need clothes just to go shopping.”

  Ramona reached into her bag. “I brought you shorts and a T-shirt.”

  “Thank you so much.”

  Jake stared at his stump. He could have sworn he still felt his missing hand. “What about our passports?”

  “I have them,” Jorge said.

  On the drive to Pavot City in Ramona’s white sedan, they saw people with exuberant expressions waving the Pavot flag from the side of the road. Jack and Maria sat in the backseat. Neither spoke.

  The charred ruins of overturned cars filled the streets of Pavot City, but that didn’t stop the crowds from celebrating. Streamers and confetti flew from the windows of apartment buildings, and musicians played in the street while men, women, and children danced upon the discarded billboards depicting Malvado. Smoke continued to billow from abandoned factories.

  It’s good we came, even if we let Edgar down, Jake thought.

  They drove through a citizen’s brigade outside the airport. Ramona and Jorge convinced the armed civilians that Jake and Maria were friendly to their cause.

  At the curb outside the terminal, Jorge shook Jake’s hand. “Thank you for everything.”

  Maria hugged Jorge. “Good-bye. I hope we see you again someday.”

  Jorge smiled. “I don’t think you will. Neither of you will ever return to Pavot Island. But I’ll think of you often.”

  “Libération de I’île Pavot,” Jake said.

  “Libération de I’île Pavot.”

  Jake and Maria boarded the airplane with a beleaguered-looking group of American businessmen. The plane was filled to capacity, unlike the trip over.

  “They don’t realize it, but this island is safer now than it’s been the whole time they were here,” Jake said.

  “They’re probably just upset they’re going to have to pay the workers higher wages.”

  Jake rested his head against his seat and sighed. “It feels weird to be heading home.”

  “The vacation’s over. Back to work.”

  Jake laughed and Maria squeezed his hand.

  As soon as the plane touched down Jake felt at home again, even though Florida was as alien to him as any foreign country. They passed through the arrival gate in Miami International Airport, and Maria held on to his left arm. He assumed she was being considerate by leaving his remaining hand free. All he wanted to do was retrieve Edgar and return to New York City, where he hoped a new life awaited him.

  Two well-groomed men in crisp black suits, one slim and the other heavyset, approached them.

  Federales, Jake thought.

  “Jake Helman and Maria Vasquez?” one of the men said.

  Jake blew air out of his cheeks. “Yeah …”

  The man flashed a State Department ID. “Adam Weissman with State. This is my partner, Bob Freeman.”

  “What can we do for you boys?”

  “We need to question you about what just happened on Pavot Island.”

  “We don’t know anything. We were tourists, and we’re just glad to be home.”

  Weissman gestured at Jake’s stump. “According to our records, you had two hands when you flew over there. Follow us, please.”

  Jake sat in one interview room with Weissman while Maria sat in another with Freeman. The room was much tighter and more claustrophobic than those he had occupied before. />
  Weissman opened a file folder on the metal table between them. “Five days ago, you and Miss Vasquez landed on Pavot Island. Three days ago, our satellites detected increased helicopter traffic over the island. Two days ago, we detected what we believe to have been napalm in the jungle. Yesterday a full-scale revolution overthrew Ernesto Malvado’s government. And today you and Vasquez came home.”

  Jake studied Weissman. Clean-cut, professional, and slick. “We’re a two-man mercenary team, only Maria’s a woman. They call us Rambo and Shambo wherever we go.”

  “Please tell me what happened on that island.”

  Jake sighed. “My girlfriend and I”—the words sounded strange to him—”took a cheap vacation on Pavot Island. We stayed at the Pleasant Mountain Resort, where we booked a suite for one week. On our second day there, we visited Pavot City, where we met an artist at a café. I asked him to draw Maria’s portrait. He had just finished when soldiers arrived. A man and a woman sitting behind us drew guns and fired at the soldiers, who mowed them down. Our artist companion told us to run. The soldiers mowed him down, too.

  “With the soldiers in pursuit, Maria and I split up. I was captured in an abandoned factory and taken to the Ministry of Defense. An ex-CIA spook named Bill Russel interrogated me. When I insisted I knew nothing about the people the soldiers had killed, he cut off my hand with a machete. I woke up in a clinic, where I was treated. Then I was relocated to a work farm. A group of—what shall we call them? freedom fighters?—rescued me and took me to a cave where Maria was waiting. We stayed there when the fighting broke out. And now here we are. I feel like a prisoner all over.”

  Weissman took notes. “How do you know Bill Russel was ex-CIA?”

  “I crossed paths with him once before when I worked for Nicholas Tower.”

  “What did Mr. Russel have to do with Tower?”

  “He designed the Tower’s security systems.”

  “Where is he now?”

  “Wherever spooks go when they get scared.”

  “We picked up several radio and TV transmissions that mentioned you and Miss Vasquez by name. Did either one of you kill anyone while you were there?”