I spent the entire morning alone—well, except for the other gods whose lovely buzzing voices were still just as incomprehensible as before—pacing around Guy's quarters, cleaning up the mess I'd left on the patio from burning our hair, chewing my nails, and asking Bill and Ted, or Bing and Bong—whatever—about any updates from Command Central.
Finally, right before noon, there was a knock at the door. Xavier entered with a long, dread-filled face. I knew it wasn't good news. “But I didn't ask. I swear,” I said aloud unintentionally pleading with fate.
“I don't want you to be alarmed, but—”
“Did they find Tommaso? Is Guy all right?” I interrupted.
Xavier raised his palms, cautioning me to slow down. “We don't know what's happening. The last communication we received, the men and Guy arrived and were getting into position. Then there was a lot of noise through the satellite feed and everything went dead.”
“Dead? Oh, god. No!”
“Oh, heavens. I meant silent.”
I took a deep, calming breath. Okay. Okay. Get a hold of yourself. “So, what's next? What are they going to do?” I asked.
“I don't know, my dear. The chiefs are deciding now.”
“This is awful.” I turned my back, whisking away an escaped tear.
“Emma?”
“Yes? Please don’t tell me there’s more,” I answered quietly.
“I didn't say anything,” Xavier responded.
“Emma?”
My eyes moved around the room suspiciously. “There it is again.”
“There’s what again?” said Xavier.
“Emma, I can hear Xavier’s with you. Is there anyone else? Can you go somewhere private?”
“Holy shit, this can’t be.”
“Shhh. Don't let them know I'm here,” Guy said.
I started backing away from Xavier, stumbling over my own feet. “Nothing, Xavier. I'll be right back. I, uh—forgot to condition my hair.” I scrambled to the bathroom, praying I wasn't hearing what I thought.
I shut the door and turned on the shower. “Guy,” I whispered. “Is that you?”
“Who else?” he said. “Don't tell me you’ve got another god set up on mental I.M.? That would be so disappointing.”
“Are you okay? Why can I hear you again?”
“I'm sorry to say that we have a little situation here in Mexico. Seems someone has been sharing real-time information with the Maaskab. Luckily, we're better armed, but there are more of them than we'd thought. And since our communication channels are compromised, I voluntarily jumped into a hexed cenote.”
“WHAT!? You’re stuck in the cenote again?”
“Yes, but it’s actually a different cenote—this one is quite warmer. A bit larger too. I wish I’d had this—”
“Un-bel-ievable,” I interrupted. “I thought you were supposed to be an all-powerful deity. Couldn’t you have just conjured up a satellite phone or something?”
“Emma, I am a god, not the Creator. We cannot simply manifest objects in such a way. We manipulate energy, which is quite impress—”
Oh, jeez. I’d opened up the ego worm-can. “Well, you’re damned lucky I renewed my subscription to Guy Talk before you left.”
“Funny girl. Listen, I need you to do me a favor. And please hurry.”
***
Two cutthroat looking guards, garnished with automatic rifles across their chests, stood in front of the steel plated door. The larger man, Mr. Dark Buzzcut—I didn’t know his name since they never wore name tags—shook his head no.
“Sorry, Miss Keane. You’re not allowed in,” said Number Two Buzzcut.
“But, I have an important message. It’s for your chief, Gabrán.”
“Tell that moron that I’ll peel the skin right off his bones if he doesn’t let you pass.”
“I can’t say that. He’ll break my arm,” I responded to Guy.
“Excuse me?” said Dark Buzzcut.
“See,” I whined to Guy, “this is silly. Isn’t there a secret password or handshake? They’ll never believe me.”
“Why not? They all know that you and I are…close.”
Oh great. Did that mean everyone now knew we’d gotten frisky? Of course they did, dammit! No secrets in Uchben Land. “Fine.” I looked up at Number Two. “Listen, Guy says that he’ll peel the skin right off your bones if you don’t let me pass.”
“And that I’ll be sure the other walks with a permanent limp.”
“Oh, God. That’s so mean,” I told Guy.
“Do it!” Guy screamed.
“I hate you.” I turned to Dark Buzzcut and repeated Guy’s words in a not so very menacing voice.
“Sorry, Miss Keane. Make all the threats you want. You’re not getting past us.”
“See! They don’t believe me,” I barked at Guy.
“Emma, you have to stun them.”
“I can’t, I don’t know how to,” I pointed out.
“Close your eyes and imagine me grabbing you.”
“Ugh!” I rolled my eyes.
“Em, this isn’t a game. Lives are depending on you.”
“Fine” I threw up my hands and then shut my eyes, focusing hard. Nothing happened.
“What are you doing, Miss Keane?” asked one of the guards.
I held out one finger. “Hold on, I’m thinking.”
They looked thoroughly amused, but not the least bit worried.
“Emma,” Guy said in a deep hypnotic voice, “you are stupid and weak! I don’t know why I thought I could depend on a silly little girl like you. Of all the humans in the world, I had to get stuck with you.”
“What?!” How could he be so cruel? The anger began to blister in the back of my brain, stoking the tiny spark struggling to ignite deep inside.
Oh. Sneaky bastard, I thought as the light bulb went on. “You're doing it on purpose. Aren’t you? Okay. Now what?”
“Now focus on that feeling and imagine it growing. Feed it.”
The tiny fire began glowing hot inside my head. I imagined my anger being wound into flaming logs, then being tossed on top of the fire. I let the flames grow and spread their tendrils through my body.
“I’m doing it! It’s working,” I whispered.
“Push it down your arms. Then—”
I reached out both my hands and both men flew against the steel door with loud, painful grunts and then sank to the ground.
“Oh, no.” I crouched beside Dark Buzzcut who writhed in pain. “I'm so sorry! Are you okay?”
“Emma, what are doing? Go! Go! Before they get up. They'll be fine, but the men here with me won’t be if you don’t hurry.”
I jumped over the two very unhappy men and then slammed the door shut. There was a large sliding lock, so I bolted the door before turning down the long, dimly lit hallway. At the end was another steel door with a touch-pad on the side and a video camera mounted above. It all looked very 007.
“There's a door with a keypad. What do I do?”
“Punch in four, eight, fifteen, sixteen, twenty-three, and forty-two.”
“Long enough?” I mumbled while hitting the key pad.
The door clicked open. I cautiously peeked my head through the crack. Inside was a massive NASA-like control center with a tiered stadium layout. At the bottom was a podium with a large floor-to-ceiling screen behind it. The screen itself looked like something right out of the show 24 with multiple views from different cameras. Everyone was working frantically on all levels, either talking on their headsets or typing at their stations, much too busy to notice little old me.
I cleared my throat. “Excuse me?” I said sheepishly, getting no one's attention.
“Louder Emma. For gods’ sake, this is no time to be polite.”
I cleared by throat. “Hey!! I'm looking for Gabrán.”
Like someone had stopped the music, everyone froze and turned toward me.
“Um. Gabrán? Is he here?” I looked around the room, flashing an awkward smile
.
The man to my left blurted out, “You can't be in here.”
Next thing I knew, someone sacked me with such force, my teeth rattled in my head as I hit the cement floor.
“Emma, what's going on? Did they hurt you? I’ll kill them!”
“Get off me! I have to talk to Gabrán. I have a message from Guy.” I grunted my words, unable to take a full breath.
I heard the men screaming to remove me and was suddenly pulled to my feet then shuffled toward the door by two―maybe three, men. One of them wrapped his arms around me from behind. I couldn't turn.
“No. You don't understand...” I struggled, but it wasn't making any difference.
“Hit the man, Emma! Stun him!”
“Oh, Christ. You so owe me.” I quickly pulled and tugged on that little ball of energy swirling in the pit of my stomach. This time it came easier, like it knew the way. With my arms pinned to my sides, I wiggled my hand free and touched the man's wrist.
The man fell to the ground, and I swiveled on my heel, holding out my hands in some comical looking position a child would use pretending to be a tiger. Grrrr!
“Back!” I yelled. “I'm not leaving until I speak to Gabrán. Get back or I'll...”
What should I call it? Zap? Stun? That would sound silly.
“I'll...make you wish you were never born.” There. That sounded threatening.
“Good job, my sweet. Now, find Gabrán.”
An oak tree of a man, with a flaming red beard and equally red hair pulled into a long braid, stepped forward. His eyes, though an icy cool turquoise blue, looked ready to shoot missiles. “I’m Gabrán,” he said with a thick Scottish accent. I recognized him from the dinner. He’d been the giant man wearing a kilt standing with Guy. Only, at the time he looked rather handsome and resplendent, in Celtic relic kind of way. Now he just looked terrifying. “And ya have ten seconds to start talkin,’ o’ I'm gonna have my man put a bullet in you.”
My eyes darted up to a small balcony overlooking the room where a man stood with his rifle pointed straight down at me. I noticed a tiny red dot over my heart. These people really took security seriously. “Guy, you better start talking. They have a gun pointed at me.”
“Tell that Scottish bastard that he's a sorry excuse for a chief. And the first chance I get, I'm going to make sure he gets sent back to the dungeon in Caernarvon where I found his pasty, sorry ass.”
I cleared my shaky throat and repeated, word for word.
Gabrán’s eyes lit up with anger. “You tell that slimy bastard he’s the worst God of War anyone’s ever seen. I’ve seen better battle tactics from a tree stump!”
I heard a soft chuckle in my head.
“So?” I asked. “Can we talk somewhere private? Or, are we going to have a peeing contest now? Because I’m pretty sure I’d lose.”
“Come with me, lass. The rest o’ ya back to work! Find my men!”
I pushed through the crowd of soldiers encircling me and trotted smugly behind Gabrán. We went into a small drab room with maps and dry erase boards filled with formulas.
“Okay. We’re alone,” I said to Guy.
Guy began recounting what had happened after they arrived in helicopters to the planned coordinates north of Bacalar. The Maaskab were already waiting for them, but the meeting place was set at the very last minute. This is how he knew someone on the inside had notified the Maaskab. The good news was that he was fairly certain most of his men, having scattered into the jungle to take shelter from the attack, were unharmed. The Maaskab were fast, but used mostly archaic weapons like arrows and knives. They didn’t believe in anything modern, which got me wondering how the hell they got around town. Evil bicycles?
“Gabrán, there are a few hundred of them, I think. If I manage to round up some men, we could pick them off, but with traitors in our midst, I’m afraid we’ll lose too many on our side.”
I repeated.
If I thought the chief looked miffed before, he was incensed now. After pacing for several moments and yelling some incomprehensible garble in some odd language, Gabrán turned to me. “Okay. We have to call the men back. We cannot flush out the traitors in the field like this.”
“That’s ridiculous! We can’t leave the other gods trapped. We need to get them out to deal with the Maaskab.”
I repeated, but Gabrán didn’t look convinced.
“He’s right,” I said, crossing my arms. “You can’t retreat. There’s no way to give your men instructions without the Maaskab knowing. They’ll be ambushed trying to leave. But I have a better idea. Send a message telling the men to stay put, but that you’re sending reinforcements to handle everything. Make sure the Maaskab hear some phony landing coordinates to draw them away. In the meantime send a small group from here, your most trusted men, to free the other gods. It will be safer with the Maaskab distracted. Once the other gods are free, then we can kill the Maaskab, and round up your men.”
Gabrán folded his thick arms, lifting one red brow. “Guy, you’ve got a smart woman there. Verra well, but I’m leading this.”
“And, Guy says you need to make sure I go, so I can help coordinate.”
“Emma! No! Dammit, you foolish woman. You’re not coming down here. It’s too dangerous, and I’m not in a position to protect you!”
“He insists,” I said sweetly.
“Emma, this is betrayal. I’ll punish you for this.”
“And he says you should give me a quick lesson on automatic handguns.”
“A gun? Emma, are you insane? What are you doing? You’re not a soldier. You’ve never killed anything in your life.”
“And two guns. That ought to do it,” I added.
“He’s yelling at you, isn’t he?” said Gabrán, cracking a smile.
“Yep.”
“Good. Serves the arrogant bastard right. I’ll have my men teach ya, arm ya, and get ya ready to kill those repugnant beasts. I have no problem with ya fightin with us, lass. Even better, if it fashes your man.” He paused, turquoise blue eyes glimmering, and moved his mouth to my ear. “Did ya hear dat, ya old crusty bastard?”
This man was so going on my Christmas card list.
“Son of bitch. I’m going to break his legs, then yours Emma!”
“Yep,” I said cheerfully to Gabrán. “He heard ya.”
Chapter THIRTY-THREE
I watched with fascination as the dozen soldiers moved with silent precision, loading the sleek camouflaged jet inside the private hanger. They glanced at each other, but didn’t speak. Were they reading each other’s thoughts?
Lifting crates, carrying duffel bags filled with gear, and securing equipment, everyone knew exactly what to do and where to stand at the precise moment for maximum efficiency. Within twenty minutes, we were up in the air and on our way. They even remembered to bring my guns—empty, of course—to teach me how to use them.
Within one hour, the shades were shut, lights were out, and the men simultaneously closed their eyes, going into some disturbing group naptime. The air buzzed with their energy. Very unsettling.
“What are they doing?” I whispered to Gabrán, who was the only one awake, busily reviewing topographical maps on his laptop in the seat next to me.
“'Tis the way the men prepare for fightin’,” he responded quietly. “The ancient Seido mediation of the Japanese warrior. Clears the mind.”
The Uchben were like a giant melting pot of rituals and traditions, technologies and science, and culture and wealth. “You Uchben seem very…eclectically resourceful.”
“It’s our way. We come from many countries and different t—” he stopped to catch himself from saying something.
“What?” I prodded.
As if wondering if he could trust me, he turned his head and gave me a quick once over, sizing me up. “Our strength comes from adopting the best of everything the world has to offer regardless of when, or where it was created.”
The answer sounded airbrushed; he’d landed on no
t-trusting me.
“Emma. Tell the chief something’s going on outside.”
“What?” I asked.
“It doesn’t sound good. But, at least we know there are still loyal men out there fighting. But gods, I can’t see shit.”
I grabbed Gabrán’s arm. “Something’s happening.”
“I think some of the men are attacking the Maaskab outside the cenote.”
I relayed to Gabrán then asked, “How much longer until we’re there?”
“This is the fastest plane we have—nine hours at best.”
“Guy?”
“I heard. There’s nothing you can do, Emma. I’ll keep you posted if I see anything.”
I sat back in the chair and tried to mimic the sedate-looking men around me, but every nerve in my body was firing on all cylinders. I had no clue what I was going to do when I got to Bacalar, and seeing these well trained Uchben, who acted like we were going to a day spa—yes, that relaxed—well, it struck me that I’d be getting in the way. Was I out of my ever-loving mind? Just because I could exude some preternatural energy that shocked people, didn’t mean I could fight a Maaskab or kill another person. But a part of me, the irrational side, needed this. I needed to fight. For me. For my family. For grandmother. For those women.
I got up and went into the tiny bathroom. Déjà vu. My airplane conference room. “Guy. What am I going to do?”
“About what?” he answered.
“I should have listened to you. It’s obvious that me going there’s a mistake. But I couldn’t sit back and let this play out while I stayed in my cozy room. It’s not right.”
“I know.”
“You’re not mad?”
“Worried, yes. Mad, no.”
“You always surprise me. You’re so different now. I would have expected you’d be yelling at me, or telling me how stupid I am.”
“As much as I’d like to do that, it wouldn’t help increase your odds of survival.”
“Why couldn’t you have been like this when you used to be in my head? You were never this calm.”
“Actually, I was.”
Oh right. Guy was to calm as Emma Keane was to war. “Then why? You were so explosive and controlling all those years?”
Accidentally in Love With a God (2012) Page 22