“Val, is everything alright?” Joe said to her.
Valerie finally turned and looked at him. “I’ve been resting for the past few days so other than looking like Frankenstein, it’s been fun.”
Joe smiled and looked down on the floor. “It’s great you still have that sense of humor, Val.”
“Did you come just for a casual visit, Lieutenant?”
“Actually, not just that. I came to see if one of my detectives is fit for duty again. The bottom line is that there aren’t many of us left. If you don’t want to come back, I understand, two other officers already told me so this morning. Things are getting really bad and there’s not much we can do to stop it.”
Valerie shrugged. “I don’t have much of a face left and this bandage is giving me double vision. Are you sure you want me back on the force at this time?”
“I need anyone I can get right now. We’re putting together a task force to try and retake lower Manhattan, volunteers only. Have you been updated on the news?”
“Just the radio because we still have some batteries,” Valerie said. “But it’s sporadic and we only get the news once in awhile. Most of the time it’s just white noise.”
Joe sighed. “We’ve had to withdraw all the way north from Hell’s Kitchen, down to Tribeca, and over to the Lower East Side. That whole area is now designated as a no-go and it’s getting bigger. Anybody who can is leaving the whole city, but from what I’ve been hearing, I don’t think anywhere in the country is safe. We’ve set up checkpoints along Brooklyn Bridge and all of the other bridges, but I don’t think it’ll hold. If whatever’s causing this decides to move towards Staten Island or Brooklyn, I don’t think we could stop them, not with the few officers we have left.”
“Still no idea what’s causing it?”
“We think it’s some sort of cult. But I don't know how they grew to this size in such a short time. We’ve been getting reports of monsters in Central Park, but I just don’t believe it, it’s too fantastic already.”
“Monsters?” Valerie said. “What kind of monsters?”
Joe shook his head. He had a hard time believing in what he was saying. “Some of the news reporters showed us video feeds of people in the park getting attacked by things. They looked like naked white women, only they are so thin, they 're like walking skeletons, but they had the strength to rip people in half.”
Josefina placed a tray with a ceramic pot and cups on the short wooden table between them and started pouring some hot, steaming coffee. “They are the tzitzimitl.”
Joe’s eyes widened. “The what?”
Valerie rolled her eyes. “Mama, please. We don’t have time for a mythology lecture.”
Josefina shook her head. “Mi hija, you keep trying to deny what is there, what you saw.”
“Mama, what you’re saying cannot be true,” Valerie said. “Those old stories were myths and legends, they cannot be real.”
“Wait,” Joe said. “Those things you just said, what exactly are they?”
Valerie looked at him disapprovingly. “Lieutenant, come on, surely you don’t want to listen to this nonsense?”
Joe held up his hand. “I’m sorry, Val, we don’t have any idea what we’re dealing with and I’ve seen things that I cannot accept as real, but now I don’t know what to believe.”
Valerie frowned and crossed her arms, but didn’t say anything as her mother sat down on the easy chair and looked at the police lieutenant approvingly.
“I am going to tell you some stories that were passed down from my family since I was a child,” Josefina said. “The tzitzimitl were goddesses from the stars and the Aztecs believed that when they would attack the sun, it would cause an eclipse. They lived in darkness and were fated to return when the gods could no longer keep the world alive. The Aztecs believed that they had to enact rituals to keep these demons at bay by lighting fires and praying to keep the sun over the earth. The tzitzimitl only dwell in darkness, so if you are in daylight then they cannot harm you.”
“Okay,” Joe said. He was intrigued. “How do we kill these things?”
Josefina shook her head. “The tzitzimitl are gods and you cannot kill them.”
Valerie frowned. “So you’re saying that we might as well surrender now and get eaten alive, Mama?”
“Mi hija, you should listen to your elders rather than disrespect them,” Josefina said. “The tzitzimitl can be both good and evil. They may inflict disease on one person, yet heal another. You must find the cause as to why they are here.”
“A trigger,” Joe said. “How do we do that?”
Josefina took out a necklace she was wearing underneath her sweater. “This is an old Aztec charm given to me by my grandmother. She said that this will save me if I ever encounter an Aztec demon. Valerie has one too, that is why she survived her ordeal.”
Valerie got up. “Mama! How dare you talk about what happened to me like it was some sort of crazy religious story. I was attacked by a bunch of crazy cult members and my partner is dead! How dare you!”
Joe also stood up as he placed a hand on Valerie’s left forearm. “Val, I’m so sorry about Myron, but what your mother is saying is the only thing that makes sense right now. We need to know more.”
As she sat down, Valerie began to cry. She remembered only brief glimpses of what had happened a few nights ago. The horror still lived in her mind. Of Myron lying on top of her as they tore him to pieces, Her partner’s screams mixed in with gunfire all around them, as the Emergency Services Unit team got there just as she almost drowned in sea of blood. She could still remember the pungent, metallic taste and the smell of it all. She recalled the night at the hospital when they had to wheel her out of there when it too was attacked. And most of all, she remembered the first time since the attack when she looked at herself in the mirror, with the long red slit with black stitches that ran along the length of her face. At the time, she wanted to kill herself but couldn’t because there wasn’t a gun lying around. And finally when her mother asked her to live with her, so she could take care of her daughter. Valerie had had a few visitors, including the vice-mayor, who wanted to give her a medal. Even when she felt she didn’t really do anything except survive a situation where her partner, half a dozen ESU team members, and two paramedics had died. How could she have survived when so many did not?
Josefina stood up, walked over to her daughter and placed her hands gently on her shoulders. Valerie buried her face in her mother’s dress as the tears continued to flow. Joe looked away. He knew this stage of grief and he thought about leaving and coming back some other day, but a slight gesture from Valerie’s mother indicated that he should stay, that made him slump back into the sofa.
After a few minutes that seemed like an eternity, Valerie had at last calmed down as she wiped away the tears with her mother’s handkerchief. Josefina went back to the kitchen and brought out a plate of baked, sweetened breads with a sugar glaze on top of them. Even in lean times Mama Josefina always prided herself on being able to provide food for the family.
Joe smiled as he shook his hand in a polite refusal when Josefina offered him some of the sweet bread, but then he took a piece anyway after she gave him the evil eye. “Muchas gracias,” he said. “So what do you call these kinds of breads anyway?”
“De nada. They are called pan dulce,” Josefina said as she sat down on the easy chair once more. “Very popular in Mexico.”
“Freshly baked?” Joe said.
“Si, I baked them this morning.”
Joe took another bite out of the bread. Thank goodness everybody was calm again. “How did you manage that? I thought all the gas mains in the city were out.”
Valerie blew her nose. “When the troubles started, Mama immediately bought two propane gas tanks and had me set them up for her. I think she has enough gas in the stove for a few months, at least.”
Joe smiled as he looked at her mother. “Smart, real smart. Did you have an inkling as to what was gonna hap
pen?”
Josefina looked down on the floor. “I had been having dreams for the past few months. Very bad dreams.”
“She would call me in the middle of the night,” Valerie said. “She was absolutely terrified. I tried to calm her, saying they were just dreams of things that could never happen, but she insisted they were real.”
“These dreams of yours, Mrs. Mendoza, did they include the monsters we’re seeing on video?” Joe said, leaning forward.
“Yes, I dreamt of the tzitzimitl, and of other gods too,” Josefina said. “They have come back from the past and plan on revenge.”
Joe furrowed his brow. “Revenge? What do you mean? What are they getting back at us for?”
“Many reasons,” Josefina said. “We no longer worship the old gods and they feel disrespected. We have killed many animals and have pillaged the earth—we have grown too numerous and wicked.”
Joe sat back and sighed. He had been raised Catholic but forgotten all about it ever since he became a cop. Now it all came back. “Like the book of Genesis and the flood? Because man had grown too evil, too lazy, is that it?”
Valerie looked at him. “Of all the people who would believe this, I thought you’d be the last person who would, Lieutenant.”
“For the first few days I didn’t believe it,” Joe said. “But now with everything that’s going on I’m beginning to change my mind. The city council has held meetings with CDC, doctors, psychologists, even brought in military advisors, but nobody can come up with anything that makes any sense. But here I am in your mother’s apartment and what she’s saying is the only thing that fits the narrative.”
“Somebody famous once said ‘when you’ve eliminated the impossible, all that’s left must be the truth,’ or something like that,” Valerie said. “Do you think you could convince the city council and the mayor with this?”
“Well, considering that we’re about to lose the city and everything we’ve tried isn’t working, I think I can make a case, but I’ll need to talk with Commissioner Donovan about it first,” Joe said.
“Donovan?” Valerie said. “You think he’s gonna believe all this?”
“He’s tough as nails and very practical,” Joe said. “He actually made the suggestion for this task force. If I can get some results, then maybe the rest will listen to us.”
“There is something else,” Josefina said. “From what my daughter told me she found in Baruch House, you will have to deal with a very powerful god.”
“What? The pile of skinless corpses?” Joe said. “It must be some sick serial killer cult that’s doing this. We shot a lot of them, but we had to get outta there because we couldn’t hold the building. It seems there’re more and more of them around.”
“You are dealing with Xipe Totec,” Josefina said. “The Flayed One.”
“Xipe what?” Joe said.
“Xipe Totec is the Aztec god of fertility,” Valerie said. “Mama used to teach me the old Aztec stories when I was growing up. This god requires human sacrifices and when the priests sacrificed those sacrificial lambs, they flayed them and took their skins to wear them.”
Joe shook his head. “That’s just sick. What kind of sicko mind would dream of wearing another man’s skin?”
“The flaying of the skin represents the symbol of fertility in old Mayan culture,” Josefina said. “It is like the casting off of old vegetation in order for new crops to grow. This was extremely important to the ancient people of Mexico. Without abundant crops, they would face starvation. When Xipe Totec needed to be reborn, the skin he wore would dry and crack until it peeled away to reveal his true self, his golden skin.”
“They must have had one hell of a way to look at things back then,” Joe said. “That kind of reasoning now would land you in prison nowadays, if not shot dead first.”
“The ancient Mexica lived in different times and they had different values,” Josefina said. “One cannot judge what they did then with the very different set of values we have now.”
“So you’re saying those skeleton demons are under this Xipe Totec god?” Joe said. “How could we fight against them? What can we do?”
“The gods of the Azteca had their destructive side,” Josefina said. “But they could also be beneficial to mankind. Xipe Totec was the god who blessed the crops and would sometimes cure the sick, or he could cause floods and pestilence to others.”
“So they can be good or evil then,” Joe said. “How can we get them to reveal their good side?”
Josefina wagged a finger at him. “You must find the reason why the gods have returned. You must find a way to please the gods so that they will leave us all in peace once more.”
“Where do we start?” Joe said.
“We may need to look at old reports right at the beginning when this whole thing began, any sort of investigations or complaints made by people who we thought were crazy, but who might somehow corroborate what we know now,” Valerie said.
Joe looked at her. “Does this mean that you’re on the task force now, Detective?”
Valerie nodded. “I owe it to Myron to see this through. He didn’t deserve to die like that. And I have to do my part to help fix this city before it’s too late.”
Joe smiled. “That’s great news. We have a new HQ set up over at the Empire Fulton Ferry dock. We’re calling in the National Guard too. You can report in tomorrow morning.”
“Tomorrow my ass,” Valerie said. “I’m gonna report in tonight. We’ve got lots of things to cover.”
Josefina looked at her daughter. “Remember to keep wearing that talisman, mi hija. It will protect you. These gods cannot be beaten by force, but they can be tricked. I have taught you everything I know, and you must use that knowledge now to help humanity in its darkest hour of need.”
17. The Chosen People
Kansas
Steve Van Dyke parked his bright red Chevrolet SUV in front of the ministry building and got out. A fair-haired man in jeans and a checkered shirt walked down the steps and asked for his identification. Steve could see the man had an assault vest over his chest. It contained at least half a dozen spare magazines for the modified AR-15 semi-automatic rifle he had slung over his shoulder. Steve was pretty familiar with the weapon and it was obvious the other guy needed some more training on using it. Steve noticed he had the safety off. The civilian version of the US military’s M16 would probably go off and injure an innocent bystander, but since the barrel wasn’t pointing at him, and he had yet to speak to the pastor, then he felt it was better to let bygones be bygones, for now anyway.
The man gave him back his driver’s license. “Okay, the pastor has been waiting to meet you. It may take awhile though because he’s currently taping a broadcast. I’m Art, by the way, head of building security.”
“Nice to meet you,” Steve said as he looked up at the sky and adjusted the black Stetson on his head. “Can we go inside? I think it’s gonna rain again.”
“Oh, sorry,” Art said as he turned around and began to walk up the steps. “Follow me, I’ll take you through the administration block and over to the studios.”
After walking up the white steps, they went through a glass double door and entered the lobby. Steve noticed about a dozen armed guards with an assorted range of semi-automatic rifles. But without uniforms, they looked more like a ragtag posse than the supposedly well-trained defense force the pastor had promised him. Each one had a white armband that signified they were part of the Rock of God Church security. Although there was a metal detector situated near the entrance, Art just waived the both of them through by winking at one of the other guards, who was lounging around the folding tables and waved back while sipping on a mug of coffee. Very sloppy, Steve thought. They didn’t even search him, or pat him down, otherwise they might have found the Glock 26 that he was carrying in a concealable holster near the base of his spine.
As they walked past the main corridor leading to the auditorium, they immediately turned right and bega
n moving into an enclosed glass walkway that served as a connection to the annex building. Steve noticed that there was a hive of activity along the offices located nearby. He could see from the glass windows a dozen huge eighteen-wheeler trucks at the back parking lot. The transports were being unloaded by volunteer staffers, while more armed sentries stood by as they rode on an escalator going up to the second level of the building.
Art slowed his pace so he ended up walking right beside him. “I heard you came up from Dallas. How are things going in Texas?”
Steve just shrugged, he was almost six and a half feet tall and had broad, muscled shoulders from his time as a linebacker in high school. “Some people back there were saying that the fate of the country would be decided along the Texas border with Mexico. So they were trying to get anybody with a gun and a car to go down to the border to try and defend it.”
Art glanced at him with obvious concern, but he kept walking. “Is it true about they say?”
“What do they say?”
“Pastor Burnley and the others are saying that Mexico is now the land of Satan. Is it true that nobody knows what’s going on down there anymore?”
Steve’s demeanor didn’t change. “All I know is there’s a massive fog and rainstorms covering anything south of the border and no radio communications. Anybody who went down south hasn’t come back.”
“Did you make your way through Oklahoma? What’s the situation over there?”
“I went through Amarillo. All I heard is things might be bad in Oklahoma too.”
“That sucks,” Art said. “My wife’s family is from Oklahoma City. I hope The Lord is doing all he can to protect the good Christians there.”
“I thought all the church members had brought their families over here,” Steve said as they walked into a large square building, then passed through another set of double doors before heading down a narrow white corridor.
“Her family ain’t members of this church, but of another,” Art said as they stopped in front of a black metal door that read SILENCE PLEASE above it. “This is where I leave you, just go in through that door and the pastor will meet you after his taping session.”
The Glooming (Wrath of the Old Gods Book 1) Page 19