by William Oday
She reached for the rifle, but a few feet away may as well have been miles. She couldn’t breathe, much less move an inch.
She didn’t need it.
She gripped the dart tightly, extended her arm above her head, and aimed it at the thick muscles in the arm smashing a hole through her chest. The anesthetic would take more time hitting a muscle group so far from the brain. It might take a few minutes to knock him out.
She wouldn’t survive a few more seconds, much less a few minutes.
She jabbed the dart at the meat of his arm.
Faster than seemed possible, a blur of movement, Jack’s other hand swatted the dart away just before the needle pricked his skin. The brute force tore it from her grip and sent it skittering across the floor.
That was it.
That was her last chance to stop him.
His attention followed the dart as it came to rest.
Beth lifted her hands above her face, knowing her weak arms were no more an obstacle for him than a silk scarf was to a samurai sword.
“Dr. West!”
Ralph shouted as he pushed the cart off and levered himself up against the wall on visibly shaking legs.
Jack turned his head toward Ralph as the hand on her chest seemed to gain another thousand pounds. She couldn’t breathe. Her ribcage creaked, close to cracking like an eggshell.
Between her upraised arms, something caught her attention.
The dart. The first one. Entangled in his matted fur.
She yanked it free. Unfortunately, the movement also got Jack’s attention.
He lowered his head and his lips curled back. Enormous teeth that appeared white at a distance looked more yellow up close. Saliva dripped from his lips and down onto her neck. His body was preparing to consume her.
To swallow her in bite-sized chunks.
He opened his mouth and lunged. Huge teeth closed the distance to tender flesh.
Beth turned away as her hand shot up.
The dart found its target and caught Jack in the throat, just below his jaw. It must have spiked a vein because the effect was instantaneous.
His head stopped inches from her face. One long canine pressed into her cheek. His hot breath reeked of blood. His eyes unfocused.
He reared back to his feet in a drunken stupor.
Beth heaved and sucked at air. Searing hot pain tore at her ribs as her lungs inflated.
Jack wobbled back and forth, trying to stay upright. It was no use. Another second passed and his eyes rolled up into his head. His legs collapsed and he fell to the floor.
Beth’s heart thundered in her ears, so fast it was hard to distinguish one beat from the next.
The blind terror left her stomach a swirling cauldron. She turned her head and her torso clenched tight. Vomit sprayed out onto the concrete floor. A shaking hand wiped away the tendrils clinging to her chin.
She looked up and a dark form blocked the fluorescent light above.
Her heart skipped a beat.
Ralph stood over her, his skin a waxy, dull hue. “You okay?”
Her ribs ached and a jolt of pain tinged every breath that drew a little too deep. The laceration in her thigh throbbed. “I’ll make it. How about you?”
He glanced at his shoulder and smiled. A weak, uneasy thing like the sun in winter.
“Going to need a few stitches, but I’ll be all right.” He extended his good hand. “Can you get up?”
“I can try,” Beth replied as she took his hand. The pain in her ribs flared as she got to her feet. She held her sides and knew some nasty bruises were in store. But it didn’t matter. She’d survive. Her years of experience treating wounded animals told her that much.
A more important question bubbled up in her mind. Would Jane survive? She was still out there.
Ralph stared at Jack’s inert form. His eyes transfixed by the beast that nearly killed them both.
Beth shook his good shoulder to grab his attention.
“Get a team in here. Drag him into the holding room. Lock it and leave someone to guard it.”
“Okay.”
“Afterward, bring the rest of the team inside the enclosure. We need to move Jane into the lab immediately.”
Beth didn’t know if she was still alive or not. And even if she was, there was no guarantee she was going to stay that way.
Beth headed for the door and stumbled a step before catching herself.
“You sure you’re okay, Dr. West?”
“Call the team now!” Beth yelled as she disappeared down the hall. Two thoughts circled in her brain as she went.
How did a locked cage end up open?
And were Jane and her unborn infants already dead?
13
ELIO LOPEZ sat in the school office, slouched over in a hard plastic chair, wishing he could be anywhere else in the world. Harsh fluorescent lights buzzed in the ceiling above. Snippets of conversation floated by in the hallway. The excited hum of students after another day at the education mill.
After the final school bell rang in his last period of the day, he thought he was home free, too. But he didn’t have that kind of luck.
The principal had been waiting outside the classroom and ushered him back to the office. He’d been sitting here for a while now. It was all part of the punishment. First, they made you sit out in the front office and wonder. After you stewed in anxiety for a while, only then did you go into the principal’s office and receive the punishment.
The first part was working. Elio tried not to imagine what his mom was going to say. She’d be furious. That’s all he knew for sure. His head hung so low it looked like his neck had given up.
Suspension was the likely outcome of the coming conversation. These disciplinary meetings were always called conversations. As if two old friends were just sitting down to sort through some misunderstanding. Conversation didn’t cover it. It was a lecture of disappointment. His job was to sit there and listen while coming across as regretful for whatever they got him for this time.
Fine. He’d play his part.
It wasn’t that he loved his regular visits to the office. He didn’t. He just knew there were worse places you could end up. And avoiding those places sometimes required him to do things that landed him here.
It was a stacked deck and he played the hand he was dealt. At this rate, there was no guarantee he’d finish high school.
He was vulnerable and the Venice 10 bangers knew it. They could sense it like you had a neon sign over your head. Once you pinged on their radar, it was almost impossible to disappear.
At least not in a good way.
He’d been late for first period that morning and racked up another tardy. They wouldn’t let it slide. They never did.
Elio didn’t pay attention to the exact number of his tardies and absences, but he was well within the serious discipline zone.
Suspension might be nice. No school for a week or two. Take it easy at home. His mom would spit fire though. She’d rip him up one side and down the other.
Maybe he could hide it from her. Forge her signature. Pretend to go to school until after she left for her nursing shift. She never made it home before eleven each night anyway.
A figure appeared at the entrance to the office and Elio groaned thinking that the conversation was about to begin. He looked up with a grimace.
And was relieved to see Theresa West standing there. She smelled like flowers. Looked like a goddess. Glossy, long black hair fell around her shoulders in waves. Light brown eyes that even the fluorescents couldn’t diminish with their white-blue haze.
She stood there with her hand on her hip and lips pursed tight. “Is seeing me so great a disappointment?”
His mind swirled while his tongue fumbled to say something that wasn’t idiotic. “Uhh, what?”
“That look couldn’t be less enthused.”
“Oh, yeah. Sorry. I thought you were somebody else.”
“The principal?”
“Yeah.”
“You about to have a conversation with him?”
“Yeah. You?”
“Same. Lucky us,” she said as she nodded toward the empty seat next to him. “Mind if I join you?”
“Doesn’t sound like you have a choice.”
“True,” she said as she plopped down. Her arm was inches away from his. The empty air between crackled with anticipation. He wondered if she felt it too.
Probably not.
He tried to think of something to say. Something casual.
Nothing came.
She filled the empty space. “So, what are you in for?”
He blinked. She made it sound so easy. “Tardies. You?”
“Same.”
He nodded, hoping she would say something else so they could avoid another awkward silence.
“Holly said your gangster friends are having a big party tonight.”
They were. He knew about it. Cesar told him about it. Invited him—no, that wasn’t quite accurate—told him to come.
“They’re not my friends.”
“Really? I’ve seen you hanging out with them lately.”
It was complicated. She wouldn’t understand.
“Yeah, they’re having a party. How’d Holly know?”
“She knows about every party happening within ten square miles. She’s like the oracle of weekend social activity.”
Elio nodded. “Those guys are okay for me. Not for you.”
He didn’t want her getting anywhere near the Venice 10 members. They were from totally different worlds while he floated in the uncomfortable space between.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Nothing. Never mind.”
A terrible silence descended.
Thankfully, she broke it.
“Listen, maybe we can hang out sometime.”
Did he just hear her right?
His insides twisted up. He panicked. A deer in a headlight. The moon staring at the sun. He didn’t respond.
“Or not. If you don’t want to.”
He wanted to!
He wanted to!
A crease formed between her delicate brows.
No. No. No. He was losing the moment. He blurted out words before they processed through his internal filter.
“I’d love to hang out with you anywhere!”
The words were awkward enough, but the way they spilled out of his mouth in a vomit jumble made it ten times worse.
“Elio Lopez, are you asking me out on a date?”
Crimson fire singed his face. He didn’t know what to say. “No!”
She was so gorgeous. So smart. So everything. He didn’t have a chance. He was an idiot to think he might.
She looked at him like he was a Martian.
Why did he just say no? He should’ve said yes. Wasn’t she basically telling him to say yes?
Another figure appeared in the doorway.
“Miss West, thank you for taking the time to see me. I’ll be a few minutes with Mr. Lopez and then we can discuss the difficulty you have with arriving to class in a timely manner.”
She dropped her head in shame. Elio couldn’t tell if it was an act or not. In the office, it was always best to look sorry, whether you felt it or not. Elio knew of more than a few girls who turned on the waterworks to get out of deserved punishments.
Unfortunately for him, Elio couldn’t bring himself to fake cry to save his hide.
The principal headed toward his open office door.
“Follow me, Mr. Lopez.”
Elio stood and followed. A sheep to the slaughter. He looked back just before disappearing through the doorway.
Theresa flashed a smile that left him breathless and no longer caring about what might happen. She mouthed two words to him.
Good luck.
He could face anything with her at his side. If only she’d give him a chance.
14
An impossibly long conversation later, Elio escaped the office with a promise to have his mother call the school. Despite the depth of the trouble that he was definitely in, he strolled out casually and winked at Theresa as he left. He exited the school, headed for the bus stop and was intercepted by his friends that weren’t friendly.
The V10 gang members.
The afternoon sun beat down as he struggled to hide the tension in his face. The fear. With these guys, showing weakness was the quickest way to become prey. The quickest way to survive was to join them. And for someone like Elio, being on the inside would offer a sense of belonging he’d never felt in life.
The V10 controlled the criminal underground in Venice with a ruthless zeal. No map marked the lines of their territory. But bullets flew and bodies fell when rival gangs probed the boundaries.
He followed them over to one of their favorite spots, a dead-end alley one street over from Venice High School. It had a hill in it half way down so that any cars driving by the entrance couldn’t see what was happening at the end. They posted a guy at the top of the alley as a lookout. If the black and whites rolled up, the members had a choice of quick exits through adjacent backyards. The neighbors were smart enough not to interfere.
They also liked it because of its proximity to the high school. A couple members still attended. They liked keeping a few soldiers on the inside. It gave them access and information they wouldn’t otherwise easily get.
Elio looked around, wondering if this would ever feel like home, wondering if he wanted it to.
Old couches lined the covered chain-link fences. Gang signs and names covered every nook and cranny. V10 and VX (X being the Roman numeral for ten) were the most predominant tags. Empty forty-ounce bottles littered the ground, mixed with the shards of other bottles. An old import sedan sat up on blocks with the doors gone. It had been stripped down to the point where the make and model were no longer identifiable, the paint worn raw to primer over most of its surface.
Two guys sat in the vehicle, huffing down a huge spliff. The rank stink of old booze mixed with the skunky scent of dank weed. One of them exploded in a coughing fit as the other fell through the nonexistent door and hit the ground with a thunk. He rolled to his back and lifted his arm, noticing countless glass slivers sticking out of his forearm. A mouthful of gold sparkled as he laughed, plucking them out one at a time.
They were insane.
Elio didn’t want to have his clothes smelling like a skunk. He hoped they didn’t offer any his way. But he knew what refusing would mean—the unmasking of a bleating sheep in a den full of lions.
Six members surrounded him, not counting the one in the wreck and the one on the ground. He was the sole outsider in the midst of a group that considered outsiders one of only two things. A target or a threat. Either case was dealt with the same way.
Elio tiptoed through the no man’s land as a potential recruit. It wasn’t a safe place to linger.
The members were at ease, as the alley was well inside their turf. Had been since they’d violently ripped it from the Westside Crips in a bloody two-month battle that left twenty Crips dead and half that number of V10 members the same. The biggest blow had been the loss of their previous shot caller.
That’s when Cesar took command.
In no time, he’d assumed the status of a street legend. Under his control, the V10 were pushing south, east, and north. Displacing rival gangs in every direction but west, because there was no play in claiming the vast expanse of the Pacific Ocean. Dolphins didn’t buy drugs. Sharks didn’t rent prostitutes. It was nice to look at, but that was it.
Elio stood in front of Cesar, at attention like a rookie in boot camp. Only in boot camp, the worst that could happen was you’d get yelled at or have to do a ton of push-ups. If you made Cesar mad, you ended up dead. Even if you didn’t do anything, you still sometimes ended up dead. He was as unpredictable as he was ruthless.
There were rumors that the previous shot caller didn’t end up dead at the end of a black bullet, but a brown one. Nobody said anything, thoug
h, because soldiers didn’t ask questions. It didn’t matter who the shot caller was so long as order remained.
Elio stared at Cesar’s huge, muscled chest and not up into his eyes. He didn’t want to spark an unintended challenge. The air caught in his lungs as the reek of alcohol-soaked breath rolled over him. He suppressed a grimace. He stilled any reaction whatsoever.
Anything could set Cesar off. At twenty-two, he was only five years older than Elio. But it wasn’t his age that gave him authority. It was his size and aggression. He was two hundred fifty pounds of muscled, pitiless ambition. He had exactly one gear.
Domination.
But that same domination could be protection. But that protection came with a cost.
If he joined, any normal future would be lost. And if he didn’t join, the same thing might happen anyway. The V10 weren’t known for their patience and understanding.
The indecision he clung to was quickly wearing thin. He got the distinct feeling that if he didn’t jump in soon, he was going to end up with a bullet in his head.
Probably delivered by the man standing in front of him.
15
“What else you got, vato?” Cesar said, his words spitting down to Elio’s level.
“Solo mi madre,” he replied. “Nothing else.”
“That’s right,” Cesar said. “Think about it. You get picked off and who’s gonna watch after your mama? Nobody. And that’s assuming she doesn’t take a round herself.”
The threat in his voice was inescapable.
Acid climbed up Elio’s throat. His jaw clenched and teeth ground together. He wanted to smash this cholo’s face in. Leave his nose a pulped mess.
But this wasn’t fantasyland where you got even just because you deserved to.
This was LA and the shot caller of the V10. Deserving had nothing to do with it. Good and deserving people ended up dead in a dumpster every day. Cesar put many of them there.
“Entiendo, Cesar.”
“Knowin’ and doin’ is different thangs. You better get to doin’.”
Elio nodded and chanced a glance up at all the ink that laced Cesar’s arms and shoulders. More crawled up his neck and covered his jaws and cheeks. The tattoos resembled old photos of Maori warriors. They were a history book if you could read the language. He openly claimed every hit, every murder, every conquest on his body.