Edge of Survival Box Set 1

by William Oday

  He watched flickering shadows cast by dim flashlights. Conversation went quiet as more of the squad drifted off.

  What a long day.

  The longest.

  Day.

  Someone kicked his boot.

  “Sarge,” a forced whisper hissed.

  Mason came to the surface. Disoriented. Grumpy to so soon be back in the waking world.

  His face itched. Like a feather tickled his cheek.

  Another hissed word.

  “Sarge.”

  It was Lopes, on his right.

  Mason wanted to itch his face, but his arms were too heavy. Too beat to comply.

  “Don’t move, bro!”

  The words louder now.

  A flashlight blinded him and he saw the shadowed silhouette of long, articulated legs. Inches above his eyes.

  “You got a camel spider on your face, dude!”

  50

  The Last Day

  Venice, California

  ELIO jumped off the South Lincoln blue bus at Venice Blvd. Towering palm trees lined the road west toward the beach. Cool marine air breezed in off the ocean less than a mile away. The salty tang sometimes strong enough to notice. A handful of stars peeked through a thick blanket of light pollution. Even on the clearest nights, you never saw more than a sprinkling of stars in Los Angeles.

  He didn’t mind.

  Too many stars made your place in the universe too obvious. Like they were a thousand reminders that you were infinitely small and unimportant.

  The usual dull orange that tinted the sky had a brighter color to it. Especially to the north, where the fires were going off. The hum of traffic faded as he got further away from Lincoln Boulevard. He cut north to avoid Abbot Kinney. It was a swanky street that always promised good cruising, but he wasn’t in the mood for people watching tonight.

  Venice had it all. He hoped to live here someday. If he could ever afford it.

  But how could he ever? He barely made passing grades. No college would accept him. What were his prospects for a good career? None that were obvious. He’d be lucky to get a job washing dishes. There were always five guys in line ahead of him who wanted the same job. They had families to support and no school to interfere with their work hours.

  The highway to the good life seemed to have all the entrance ramps shut down.

  Which brought him back to the Venice 10. He knew banging wasn’t a life that offered long-term security. He knew there were a hundred ways to die once you became a member. But his life wasn’t panning out to be all that viable either.

  As hard as his mom worked to give him options, it wasn’t enough. She could barely keep them in a shared apartment in Inglewood. He didn’t blame her. He just didn’t look to her to solve his problems.

  One thing above all others attracted Elio to Cesar and the life he promised.

  No fear.

  Those guys feared no one.

  And for Elio, that was unimaginable. He lived in fear. Of disappointing his mom. Of not living up to the memory of his father. Of showing his feelings for Theresa. Of what might happen if he joined the gang. Of what might happen if he didn’t.

  Fear was his constant companion.

  He pushed the jumble of thoughts in his mind aside as he arrived at the front gate of Cesar’s house. The place was going off. He heard it from a block away. Crazy. The only reason nobody called the cops was because the whole street were either fellow members or lived in fear of retaliation.

  If Elio had to choose, he wanted to be the one instilling the fear, not the one drowning in it.

  Speaking of fear, he wondered how Cesar was going to react to what happened that morning. Elio had nothing to do with it, but that didn’t guarantee anything. You could never tell with the shot caller. It might be nothing. Or he might be walking into the final minutes of his life.

  The one thing he knew for sure was that Cesar could never find out that Elio knew Mason. He’d force Elio to give up his address. He’d go there to hurt Mason. Maybe to hurt Theresa.

  Stupid Mason. Why did he have to stick his nose where it didn’t belong? Did he have any idea of the tight spot Elio was now in because of him?

  If Cesar thought Elio was holding out on him…

  Elio shivered. He didn’t want to think about how that would turn out. Best to claim ignorance and hope for the best.

  “Yo Elio, pasale pasale,” one of the guys at the front gate said. They all knew him. He knew some of them from kids, before they joined. But this was the first time he’d been to Cesar’s house, the informal headquarters of the gang.

  Elio nodded as he parted through three bodies that welcomed him in as their own. They knew he might be a fellow soldier soon and so extended him a little respect. Maybe word got around about him facing up to Evil. They either respected the move, or figured he was a dead man who deserved a last kindness.

  Four dark figures loitered on the porch. Elio couldn’t make out who was who until he got to the bottom step.

  “You got a death wish, chavala?”

  One of Cesar’s soldiers bled out of the shadows and stepped into Elio’s path. A long dagger glinted in a pocket of light.

  “Nah man. Just showing up like Cesar wanted.”

  “Smart move. Maybe.”

  Elio dropped his gaze to show he didn’t intend a challenge.

  The soldier nodded toward the door.

  “Jefe’s gonna want to see you. Go ahead.”

  Elio nodded, trying to keep his legs from collapsing under him. One of the other guys pushed the door open and he headed inside.

  The music buffeted his body with a physical force.

  It was loud.

  He wandered right and ended up in what appeared to be a living room. Not that it looked at all like one. Nothing his mother would recognize.

  Elio had drunk more than his share of beer and even smoked enough weed to build a tolerance. But what he saw in the living room sent a stutter through his carefully orchestrated stride. The surface projection of confidence cracked.

  He was glad Theresa couldn’t see him here. This was so not her scene. Not that it was his either. But it was hundreds of miles from hers.

  What would she think of him choosing to be around all this?

  She’d see him for the lowlife thug the world had already decided he was. Maybe the world was right.

  He glanced around. Obvious piles of weed, coke, smack, meth, and other stuff he couldn’t identify buried the coffee table. There was enough to get everyone here locked up for life.

  To get him locked up for life.

  There was even a messed up couple in the corner going at it like doped-up bunnies. Elio shook his head and continued on, hoping to run into Cesar before Evil. He just had to show some face time. Let the shot caller see him hanging with the others. Assuming it went okay, he’d take off after that. His brain definitely wasn’t prepared to soak up a full night of what was going on here.

  He wondered if he ever wanted to call this normal.

  He strolled into the kitchen and thought about raiding the fridge for a beer, but decided against it. His luck he’d be sipping a beer, one of Evil’s beers.

  Elio seriously wished he hadn’t popped off that morning. Especially now, knowing he could run into Evil any second. It did feel good to lash out. Amazing to have gotten away with it. With nothing more than a bloodied nose and busted lip. But it might not be over. The scales not yet balanced.

  Now, it seemed like a huge, stupid mistake. Standing up to the Venice 10 lieutenant was like a Chihuahua barking at a wolf. It was wasted noise. The outcome was never in question.

  He left the kitchen and passed a bathroom on the right. A fat guy inside was passed out on the floor by the toilet. No shirt and his pants around his ankles. A girl sat on the toilet with her panties around her knees. Her black boots rested on his big belly like it was a foot stool. She raised an eyebrow at him and beckoned him in.

  Elio didn’t want to know more.

 
He kept going and saw some Goth Latina girl he didn’t know stabbing gashes into the wall. He gave her a wide berth as he walked past. She muttered to herself as she slammed the thin blade home, again and again. “…gut that pretty pig…”

  He nodded at a couple of guys he’d met before. He took a left, and bumped into a huge guy he’d seen once or twice. Like the gangster Shaq version.

  “Sorry, man,” Elio said as he edged to the side and made for the stairs. Maybe Cesar was up there. He’d check the backyard next if not.

  The guy bumped him back and shook his head. A flat look in his eyes warned against any nonsense.

  “Just looking for Cesar,” Elio yelled to make sure he was heard over the music. “He said I should come by tonight.”

  “Wait here. Don’t do something stupid,” he said as he raised his shirt to reveal a semiautomatic pistol tucked into his pants.

  Elio nodded. He had no intention of pushing this behemoth’s buttons.

  The guy lumbered up the stairs and disappeared. He reappeared a moment later and waved down to Elio. It felt like he was being ushered behind the velvet rope. Back to the secret party. The one all the regular folks never got to see.

  This is what membership could be. Open doors, protected by his brothers. He skipped up the stairs and followed the hulking form down the dimly lit hall. He passed an open door on the right.

  A half-dressed girl lay on a bare mattress on the floor. Her top was missing and she didn’t seem to care. She scrambled around the room like she’d been bitten by a cobra and the antidote was hidden somewhere in the room. She caught his gaze and turned to face him. The tracks on her arms showed she’d been bitten by something, again and again.

  “Don’t look at me!” she screamed. Her voice raised another octave, to a shriek, “Don’t look at me!”

  His escort laughed, “Puta loca,” never breaking stride.

  Elio stayed on his heels, wondering if he should glance back to make sure the girl wasn’t coming after him.

  They arrived at the door and the giant literally ducked his head in the doorway.

  “Kid’s here.”

  He turned back to Elio and nodded toward the open door.

  Elio flattened into the wall to get by.

  He entered the room and nearly fell over.

  His heart spasmed in his chest. Clenched so tight the pain shot through to his back. The music seemed to fade to silence. Twin bare bulbs hanging from the ceiling painted a surreal scene.

  A nightmare.

  51

  Cesar sat in an old chair that looked like it could barely hold his muscled bulk. Theresa’s best friend Holly sat on his lap. Her black tank top stretched under her boobs. Her nipples exposed and all. Cesar had an arm wrapped around her with his other hand snaked between her legs. Holly barely turned as Elio entered. She looked through him like he didn’t exist.

  Her eyes were glazed over and unfocused. Her head lolled from side to side. He doubted she had any idea what was going on. He hoped she didn’t.

  That was horrible enough. But the person standing by a table piled high with a huge collection of weapons made it infinitely worse.

  Theresa!

  What were they doing here? Why were they in their pajamas?

  “Elio! Come in!” Cesar said with a grand wave. He took a huge hit on a nearly done roach and then turned Holly’s head to his. His lips attached to hers and he blew his lungful of smoke into hers. She didn’t pull away.

  She was blitzed. In serious trouble.

  Elio took a step in and watched Theresa. She leaned against the table, her eyes a little less dulled. She looked at him and recognition flared in her eyes. He shook his head and turned away, hoping she understood his meaning.

  Cesar pulled back from Holly and squeezed her boobs. He finally turned to Elio.

  “Glad you came.”

  Elio stood still as stone, at a total loss of what to say or do. As much as he wavered about entering this world, he wanted Theresa to have no part of it. She was better than this. She was too innocent. She had no idea what could happen. He had to get them out of here. But it wasn’t like he could just tell Cesar to let them go.

  That would gain him nothing more than a beating and the girls would still be no better off. Probably worse off. He did the only thing he could do. He played along.

  “Hola, Cesar,” he said, “you preparing for war?”

  “Preparing to win one. You know what’s going on out there?”

  “Not really.”

  “The beginning of the end, ese. Chaos.” He smiled like a shark. “Opportunity, for those willing to take it.”

  “Who is the enemy?”

  Elio prayed his name didn’t spring to mind.

  Cesar ignored the question and leveled dead serious eyes at him.

  “Did you know that hero from this morning?”

  The threat in his voice was unmistakable.

  “No, Cesar. No idea. Some wannabe Bruce Wayne.”

  Cesar watched him, studying him like a player at a high-stakes poker table. Because he was, betting his life instead of chips.

  “I ran into him again. Found his house. Look what turned up there.” He looked from Holly to Theresa.

  Elio had to get them out of here. Before it was too late. It already felt like it was too late.

  “A couple of dumb blancas? You should kick their asses out on the street. Send ‘em back to the Third Street Promenade where they belong.”

  Cesar smiled.

  Cuts stood by the table holding a shotgun.

  “Let’s smoke ‘em, Jefe.”

  Cesar chuckled in appreciation. “You got one answer for every question.” The words could’ve been an insult, except that Cesar said it with all the appreciation of a teacher addressing a star pupil.

  “The problem is, I’m liking esta morena.” He punctuated the preference by rubbing his hand over the silk cloth covering Holly’s crotch. He licked his lips and grinned.

  She didn’t respond, like her body didn’t work.

  Elio couldn’t let this happen. He had to do something quick. But what?

  “And Evil here is liking the other one. He has a thing for flat-ass white girls.”

  Elio stumbled forward as a body shoved him hard from behind.

  Oh no.

  Elio turned to see a snarl of malignant glee directed at him. Cesar’s right-hand lieutenant walked in. Evil pushed him aside and sidled up to Theresa. She shook out of a daze as his arm wrapped around her waist.

  She looked at Elio and recognition sparked in her eyes. She glanced over at Holly and stared for a moment, as if she didn’t believe what her eyes were telling her.

  Evil squeezed Theresa. “You like me too, eh flaca?”

  Elio tried to hide the horror in his heart. The terror in his mind.

  As if that was possible in this crowd.

  Fear and weakness attracted these wolves like bloody meat. They could smell it a mile away.

  And right now, every pore on his body oozed panic.

  If Evil figured out they were friends, nothing good would come of it for Theresa. If he found out Elio liked her, she’d suffer. Bad.

  Evil turned to Cesar. “Jefe, tu madre esta despierta.”

  His mother was awake?

  Cesar jumped up and shoved Holly to Cuts.

  “Keep them here,” he said as he left the room. Evil followed close behind.

  Elio watched Cuts, wondering if he could grab a gun off the table and cap him without hitting the girls, then escape with the girls, somehow carrying Holly, all before anyone heard what happened and decided to stop them.

  “Elio, vamos,” Cesar said.

  There went that plan.

  He followed Cesar to an open door halfway down the hall. As soon as he entered, a foul stench assaulted his senses. So bad it made his eyes water. They filed in and shut the door.

  Cesar dropped to his knees at the side of the bed. An older woman lay in the bed. Elio recognized Cesar’s sister sitti
ng in a chair next to the bed. She wore a white dust mask that had seen better days. Dark splotches of dried blood covered it. She dipped a rag into a bowl of iced water and then dabbed the woman’s forehead.

  The moisture evaporated the instant the cloth left her skin. Blistering red sores covered her exposed skin leaking creamy, yellow pus on the bedsheets. Streaks of red mixed with the lighter discharge.

  With a tenderness Elio wouldn’t have thought possible, Cesar twined his enormous hands around the woman’s gnarled, wasted hand.

  “Mama?” Cesar said in a whisper.

  She turned her head toward him. Blood leaked from the slits of her closed eyes and down onto the pillow.

  “Mijo?”

  “Si, Mama. How do you feel?”

  “I’ll be with God soon.”

  The words cracked and rattled in her chest as they came out. A faint smile etched through the pain evident on her face.

  “No.”

  “His hands now.”

  “How did this happen, Mama? You were fine yesterday.”

  “Only God knows, Mijo.”

  “Then I’ll rip the answer from his bloody chest.”

  “Mijo!” Her thready voice transformed. “Never speak of the savior that way!”

  She coughed and blood and spittle ejected from her lips and onto the bed sheets. She collapsed to her former weakened state.

  “Tell me who did this, Mama.”

  “It’s God’s plan.”

  “Did they have you cleaning something dangerous? You shoulda quit years ago.”

  She patted his much larger hand.

  “Cleaning kept food on our table.”

  The words brought more blood up. Her body heaved and collapsed onto the bed.

  Cesar adjusted the pillow behind her head.

  “You said you’re working in labs now, right?”

  “So shiny… glass and metal… so clean… Beautiful… except…”

  She paused and took a labored breath. It rattled in her chest.

  “Except what?”

  “Got lost… stained floors… the walls… cages.”

  Her head lolled to the side and she opened her eyes to look at her son. The pupils were huge empty discs surrounded by red. The blood vessels in what should’ve been the white part were enormously swollen. One burst and blood streamed down her cheeks.