by Jeremy Mac
She wraps his hand back up with fresh bandages and gives him a small bottle containing forty pills.
“Dimorahl,” she says. “Take them sparingly. I don’t have very many.”
That puts a monkey of a grin on his face. He wastes no time opening the bottle and tilting it up to his mouth, dumping three pills onto his tongue. He chews them up and washes it down with a swig of bootleg.
“Ahh. Feeling better already.”
“Then my work here is done,” Jizell says, closing her bag.
“What’s the rush? Stay a while.” He pats the empty space of bed next to him. “It’s been a while since we’ve enjoyed each other’s company.”
She notes the sexual innuendo in his tone with the eyes that seem to suddenly zero in on her ample bosom, but she is far from titillated. Most women – actually, all women – lie in Vincent’s bed when called upon for fear of what he may do if he is rejected, but not her. Not anymore, anyway. She’s fully aware of how far she can push Vincent before his patience crumbles entirely. Therefore when it comes to sex she will have it only when she wants to and with whom she wants to have it.
“Excuse me, sire,” a shaky voice dares to speak in the doorway; Jacko bent partway around the side of the door, timid as ever for having to disturb his master while propositioning a young maiden. Not that he’s been eavesdropping. Not for very long, anyway. Only for a couple of minutes. Although there’d been times when he has spied on him doing things to women he’s only imagined doing. He is way too bashful to visit one of the brothels so he looks forward to the times he can catch Vincent in action with them. At least he’s able to get off on secretly watching. But he dares not be caught. Vincent will have his prick cut off for sure.
“What is it?” Vincent says, agitated.
“Pan and Bruno are here to see you, sire. They say it is of the utmost importance. They have the Mongoose.”
“The who?”
“I believe it is the boy you were wanting to see. The one who killed a few of your men, whooped Pan and Bruno, and stole your food, sire.”
“Oh, yes. Send them in.” Vincent regards Jizell apologetically. “I have some business to attend to, so maybe some other time, huh, love?”
Jizell tilts her head to the side and says with thick sarcasm, “Aw, geez, too bad.” She wastes no time leaving the room.
30
Pan, Bruno, and Mongoose stand waiting down the hall when Jizell comes walking through. She immediately notices Max sitting obediently next to Mongoose’s leg.
“What a beautiful dog,” Jizell says, eyes aglow, kneeling down to rub Max’s head. “What’s his name?”
Mongoose is stunned stupid. First of all, she is the prettiest woman with the prettiest pair of knockers he’s ever seen. Second, she pets Max with no hesitation at all. And third, Max allows her to do so with not one tiny growl of protest. Wow to it all. Even Pan and Bruno are stunned.
Jizell glances up at Mongoose expectantly, captioning him with honey brown eyes.
“Wha’?” Mongoose is able to say.
“I asked what his name is.”
“Oh. Uh, Mongoose.”
“A dog named Mongoose?”
“Yeah. I mean, no. My name is Mongoose. His name is Max.”
“Hello, Max. It’s nice to meet you.” She fluffs the dog’s ears and then lets him lick her on the chin. She giggles. “Nice dog.” Rising to her feet she faces the boy who is an inch shorter than herself. “I just heard about you, the things you’ve done. Impressive. My name is Madam Jizell, or Doctor Jizell. Whichever’s your need. My brothel and office is just down the street. Everyone knows me. Come see me sometime. ‘Kay?”
“Okay.” Mongoose nods dumbly.
Jizell peeps Pan and Bruno’s unstrung situation. Pan’s left hand is taped to Bruno’s right hand, making it appear as if the two are holding hands. She then averts her eyes from Bruno to Max, realizing something.
“Ahh,” she says, eyes aglow. “So this is the vicious dog that did that.” Pointing at Bruno’s mangled mug. She takes a moment to soak this in, and then says, “I guess I better go. It seems that you’ve got some things that you need to take care of. Hope to see you soon, cutie.”
They watch her leave, that little round butt swaying side to side.
“Ahem,” Jacko clears his throat, getting the trio’s attention. “He is waiting.”
31
“So you are the great Mongoose,” Vincent says with mild spirit. He is beginning to feel the relaxing and numbing effects of the pills. All is well in Vincent Maddick’s world.
“And you are Vincent Maddick.”
A smug smile curves Vincent’s lips.
“I am he.”
“So what do you want?”
Vincent is about to respond but something peculiar catches his eye. He focuses on Pan and Bruno’s hands. “Would you two like a private room?”
Pan speaks up in their defense. “He made us tape our hands together. If we had not agreed to it he would not have come with us. We had no choice.”
“Uh-huh. And now that you are here, why are they still taped together?”
The two brutes regard each other as if asking themselves that same question.
Annoyed, Vincent excuses the two and after they’ve left he says, “I trust they were good company on your way here?”
“Where do you get these idiots?”
“There’s an endless supply of them, if you haven’t noticed.”
“I’ve noticed. Now what do you want?”
Vincent inhales deeply and exhales long and slow, as if the very act is orgasmic.
“What do I want?” he says to himself. “I want that which all men want. None other than peace, love, and happiness.” Vincent’s blithe suddenly turns cold as he gazes directly into the boy’s eyes. “No. I want it all. Everything. The whole shebang.”
“The Pinnacle,” Mongoose says.
“Exactly.”
“Impossible.”
“Do you think? Is it so hard to believe that The Pinnacle cannot be taken? That’s exactly what the world thought about the city of Troy. It’s walls could not be breached. But in their ignorance they let their guard down, opened their gates, and unknowingly allowed the enemy to enter the city in the form of a huge, wooden Trojan horse, never suspecting that at that very moment was the moment of their demise. And later in the night, when all the good people of Troy were nestled safely in their beds, believing they were safe from all the bad things in the world outside their walls, their enemy came crawling out of that Trojan horse, slaying the guards and opening the gates of Troy to let in the rest of their soldiers and then they took the city.”
“That’s a great story,” Mongoose says bluntly. “Especially with all the dramatics you added to it. Nice touch. But what the hell do you want with me?”
“At first, I wasn’t sure I would need you. Yesterday I believed that today we would already be well into the thick of battle at The Pinnacle. Oh but how we were surprised. So now plans have changed. From what I’m told you’re an excellent fighter and you have no qualms about killing. Talents I am very fond of. You are also very young, your age can be a deceptive tool, and because of that you are able to do things most of us cannot. I can give you a life plentiful of many things. But first I need you to do only one thing for me.”
“And what is that?”
Vincent crooks a mean grin and says, “I want you to become a Trojan horse.”
32
Darkness – that which defines the very essence of evil. He keeps himself within its veil. Even in daylight he is in darkness. The mask shields him from the light and from the eyes of others. Very few have ever seen his face, but those who have can’t remember what he actually looks like anymore. Many are curious about his face, if it is grossly deranged from either birth or by accident, but the discretions are carefully weighed only behind closed doors. No one is so naïve as to speak unfavorably of him, as if he is an oddity, in the presence of an unknown. No one d
isrespects him, nor does anyone disturb him while he is in his room. Only Jacko is allowed to summon him and that disturbance is only to be for Vincent’s bidding.
Other than a couple of candles his room is dark, and only when he is inside the room does he take off the mask. No need in keeping it on while in his own personal quarters. His left forearm is wrapped in a cast, it broke when he was slammed against the truck-tank, also popping his shoulder out of socket. The doctor set them back in place. An interesting experience to say the least. Considering the pain, that is. He’s had broken bones before but never a compound fracture. The way the bone protruded through the skin was fascinating, and then to see it pushed back into place. The pain was excellent. Awe inspiring. Having the opportunity to fight the man who’s the result of all of this is an inspiration within itself. Pity the man was taken down by two bullets, snatching away his lone victory in defeating him himself. But there isn’t a doubt in his mind that he isn’t dead. A man like that doesn’t die off easily. Many believe him to have been accompanied by a team of men who killed all those Maddick’s, but he knew better. It was only the one man – the dark swordsman.
He opens a closet door, reaches inside, and takes out twin swords, shorter than the katana but longer than a conventional dagger. He places one aside and unsheathes the other. It’s been too long since he’s unsheathed them. Too long since he’s used them. He twirls the short sword, thrusts, strikes, familiarizing himself with it all over again. Life has now been reinvigorated with new ambitions. An exhilarance shoots through him like he hasn’t felt in ages. Finally someone worthy enough to hold their own, and of all things, in the way of the ancients.
The dark swordsman will be his.
33
Many think there will be another wave of Maddick’s to storm The Pinnacle’s gate, but two weeks pass since the short lived battle without further incident. Word buzzes that Vincent was blown to bits by the explosions, leaving the remaining Maddick’s without someone to lead them and are currently in hiatus. Other rumors are that Vincent’s hand or arm was cut off in the ensuing battle and before he was able to make it back to Maddick he died from blood loss, and the most optimistic rumor is that Vincent did in fact make it out alive but was so distraught with humility that he left the city entirely. Optimistic thinking indeed, trying to dispel through avid rumor something so frightening out of existence in order to more easily carry on through one’s day without the mental burden of worry or conflict. Whatever works.
Although many Pinnacle civilians were hesitant to venture from their homes so soon after what occurred at the gate – typical aftermath fear trying to burrow itself to the bone – it only took a few days for things to pick back up to how they were before. The markets bustle with life once again as everyone moves forward.
34
The day Dr. John released Lathan from his care was a prime day in The Pinnacle. Everyone hailed him with flowers and gifts. Three women at different intervals, in their obvious joy and infatuation, proposed marriage to him and one of them even grabbed him and shot her lips to his, to which Taya instantly responded by clinching her teeth and politely pulling the overzealous woman away.
All he wanted to do was go back to his place, let Taya ride him like a bull for a while, and then fall into a calm quiet state of meditation for the rest of the evening. But what he wanted and what he got were two different things.
He walked into a surprise party festooned with a WELCOME BACK, LATHAN banner. The place was packed with people, all smiles and cheers and food and gifts galore. Although it was all done in good spirits and gratitude he could have done without it. They labeled him as something he is not, nor did he desire or deserve to be. They have no idea that what he’s done thus far has been only for himself. Or, rather more to the point, to keep a promise he made to someone else. And the longer he stays here the harder it is going to be to accomplish. Every day he wills his shoulder and leg to heal faster. The bullet to the leg nicked the femur bone so he is hobbling around on a crutch. Only the one crutch because he can’t put any stress on his left shoulder. Now he is forced to wait it out before he is able to sneak back to the Harrington International.
35
Taya keeps him company as the days crawl by. With her unwavering spirit, good humor, and insatiable libido she is making it difficult for him to stay dispassionate and he often finds himself lured into thought patterns of “what if’s?”. Especially during the times they lie sexually spent in bed, their arms and legs entangled, listening to her tell him about her life prior to The Pinnacle and what filled the days thereafter. Everyone has their own horrific story, each different in its own way, but the one similarity everyone shares is the exact day their old life ended and their new life began. Those are the stories that resonate, capturing the listening ear and never become tiresome to hear.
James often drops by to see how he is doing. Conversations with James are interesting to say the least. Obviously intelligent, James is a man of many facets, his mind working in vast areas, and has a well thought-out plan and natural instinct for leadership. It was once brought up.
“People instinctively desire to be led,” James said. “Although there are many who possess that take-charge quality, most people want and need to feel dependently secure with another person who is comfortable and confident to carry the weight of responsibility of others’ lives, their futures, and tasks at hand on their own shoulders. If you can effectively sell that idea to the people then they will not only follow you but they will vehemently support and defend your own personal causes. The political leaders of yesteryears did it all the time. And even though it was politics that initially ended us, it will be a new form of politics that rebuilds us. Lathan, not only have you saved lives, but you have also assured people of their wellbeing, and whether you like it or not you are now immortalized as a hero and for that reason alone they will follow you in whatever cause you may seek. You can be a great leader, Lathan.”
Lathan was shaking his head side to side, rejecting the idea, before James finished speaking.
“No way is that who I am. I am not a leader. And I have absolutely no desire to be one. I admire what you’ve done here and are continuing to do, but James, we are cut from two completely different cloths. Everyone seems to hold on to this wonderful idea of who I am, having come out of nowhere just to save this place, when realistically all it’s ever been is circumstance. I am here for completely different reasons.”
James nods in agreement. “Yes, I understand. Truly I do. But I refuse to believe that circumstance is why we ever met. It is much more than that. And do you know why I believe that? Because I feel it, right here,” James rapidly taps the tip of his finger into his chest. “That’s why I believe it, because every time I’ve felt something right here, I’ve never been wrong. But let me say just one more thing and I will be finished with it. Maybe you’ll stay, maybe you’ll go, only you can decide, but which ever it is you choose to do I truly believe that you are destined for great things no matter where you may be.”
That is the last time they spoke on that particular matter, which suits Lathan just fine. Trying his damnedest to keep from being the humble hero is one thing, but playing with the idea of him building a life among these people, with James’ insinuations of leadership, is another. The word “preposterous” comes to mind.
Other than Taya and James no one else drops by. James advises everyone that Lathan isn’t to be disturbed; their hero deserves to be left alone to insure a speedy recovery. Many well-wishers are sent with respects and prayers. All very kind and thoughtful, if you dig those sort of things. Lathan understands the sincerity of them all but tries to stay numb against their caregiving. Within himself, that is. After all, he doesn’t want to appear to be ungrateful, that would make him an asshole. Difficult and set in his ways he may be but he’s not an asshole. At least not a deliberate asshole. So when Taya and James comes with the messages and homemade Hallmark’s he smiles and nods his appreciation.
&nb
sp; He intended not to show his face to the world again until he is fully recovered, and then soon after do a disappearing act in the middle of the night. But there are other things to consider, like his SUV in the parking garage with his goods, gear, and weapons. He does not intend to leave that behind. The trip ahead is a long one and is sure to have its fair share of obstacles. There are many things that can be done with his SUV but why be inconspicuous. It only makes sense, the vehicle can use a few adjustments and reinforcements. He asks James for help and James happily says that he will have everything taken care of.
Maybe it’s time to make a local appearance after all.
36
Everyone does their part to keep The Pinnacle machine running smoothly. Those who live here all have specific jobs and responsibilities they share in shifts. Most guardsman and grounds police were at one time actual officers of the law. A small number of them are those who were once common citizens but showed an interest in the job, and such duties have required shifts of twelve hours. A fair justice system has been practiced since the beginning and makeshift jail cells are used only when absolutely necessary, which in the beginning was often, but since the bad apples were picked and tossed from the bunch (exiled from The Pinnacle) the jail cells are rarely used. Other duties such as gardening and farming and butchering and baking is luckily a thriving market and trade. The concept is that if it is your duty to work such a job then you will be able to reap the most benefits, and who really enjoys going hungry. Not that anyone goes hungry. If you are healthy and able then you are required to work, whether it’s guardsman or sanitation and maintenance worker or whatever, and economic work equals your wellbeing. People understand the importance of their duties because without them things will revert back to draconian times and no one wants that. Complaints run low. Most everyone is very content with how things are and the direction they are taking. Happiness is on the brink.