by Jasmine Walt
He had been there for some of humanity's biggest triumphs, and for humanity's biggest falls.
Sometime after Amarillo, I saw the car. A brand new black Escalade with tinted windows. At first, it hung back about a hundred yards from me, while on the open stretches of road that were straight and uninterrupted, it kept pace with us, even with me going under the speed limit. It caught up to us and stayed just behind the Prelude.
I remembered what Tisiphone told me while I was asleep, that we had hitmen after us who were not necessarily human. With the tinted windows, my imagination went wild.
“Shit,” I muttered under my breath, as the light on the fuel gauge came on.
“What?” Plutus asked.
“We're being followed.”
He stilled. “How do you know?”
“They've been behind us for the past fifty miles,” I said. “I'm going so slow, they would have passed me a long time ago if they weren’t up to something.” I gripped the steering wheel even harder. “And we're low on gas.”
Plutus sighed. “We're running out of good luck.”
That's because Tyche can't help us anymore.
We were out in the middle of nowhere, somewhere between Amarillo and Oklahoma City on the flat plains of Texas. There was nowhere for us to hide, and there weren't any cities for me to really turn off and lose them between buildings.
We were on our own.
We drove by a sign advertising a gas station in a mile.
Would they take a shot as us with people watching us?
My gut told me yes. “Shit,” I muttered again.
“We're running low on options, aren't we?” Plutus asked sardonically.
“Yep,” I said. “We have to stop at the next gas station. Otherwise, we'll be stranded. And I'd rather take our chances with other people watching.” I laid the God Gun across my lap, within easy reach. “We're not going down without a fight.”
Unfortunately, the gas station wasn't the popular, big place I'd hoped it would be. There were literally two pumps, a small service station, and no cars out front. Despite my hopes that there would be people watching, we were pretty much limited to the gas pump jockey inside.
Maybe he'd call the cops and they could take care of whatever was after us. I dismissed that thought, though—it would be bad if he did call the cops, because they'd be able to detain us for questioning, and then they'd find out who we were.
I pulled up to a gas pump, stopped, and turned off the car. The Escalade pulled up behind us. I fought to get my breathing and racing heart under control. I was scared, even more so because I didn't know what was in that car. I'd been in shootouts and burst into homes before. I hadn't been scared then because at least then I knew what the possibilities could be.
I had no idea what was behind us, however, I was going to face it head on.
I sucked in one last breath, rallying my last shreds of nerve, and got out of the car. I shut the door and paused when I heard the echo of the passenger door shut as Plutus got out, leaning against that cane of his.
“Get back in the car, Plutus,” I commanded without turning to look at him. I didn't want to take my eyes off the car.
“No,” he answered back. “If you're out here, I'm out here too.”
Three of the doors to the Escalade opened.
Two men came out, one from the driver's side, one from the passenger's side. They were both equally short, barely reaching my shoulders, while their arms and their legs were too skinny and too elongated to be proportionate to their short, squat bodies. Their ears were long and pointy as well, their heads round with scraggly unkempt hair.
“Kobaloi,” Plutus muttered under his breath. “I can smell them from a mile away.”
I repeated the Greek word, although I completely mispronounced it and it felt like I was rolling marbles in my mouth. “What are they?”
They leered at us, not moving any closer.
“Tricksters. Nothing more.”
Stephen Cross wouldn't just send tricksters, I thought. So what were these, henchmen?
My question was answered a moment later as another man left the Escalade. This man wasn't like the other two. He was huge, over seven feet tall and built like Arnold Schwarzenegger in his Conan the Barbarian days. He had a full head of red hair and a full beard that made him look almost like a lion. That wasn't all, although I couldn't quite put my finger on it. He kept blurring at the edges like I was looking through a foggy mirror.
“What the...?” I asked as Plutus cursed under his breath. I glanced at him from the corner of my eye. “Can you smell that too?”
“Callista Saunders?” the man called out in a loud, booming voice. “Plutus?”
I swallowed, gripping my gun even tighter behind my back. I didn't want to draw attention to us and have the attendant call the cops. I wasn't going to shoot until this guy made a dangerous move. Still, he made me uneasy. I felt that at any moment, he would make a dangerous move.
“Who wants to know?” I yelled back.
“You know who,” the man said.
The man grinned and even from twenty yards away, I could see rows upon rows of pointy teeth. Which wasn't…right in a human being.
“You can fuck off!” Plutus yelled.
Don't antagonize him! I wanted to shout. While the man didn't make any hostile movements towards us yet, he oozed evil. It felt like I was choking.
“Oh, you see, I can't,” the man said. “My...employer...isn't happy that you shot off his face.” He gestured at me. “And he also wants you,” he gestured to Plutus. “Alive.”
“He's a manticore,” Plutus muttered under his breath. “Part man, part lion, wings, and the tail of a scorpion.”
“Wait...what?” I asked, turning my head to look at Plutus.
Of course, that was when the manticore chose to attack.
A barb whizzed by my face. I immediately crouched to the ground and moved along to the front of the car, using it as a block. Other barbs flew by me, embedding themselves into the ground with an unhappy sizzle.
What the hell?
Plutus joined me at the front of the car a second later, feeling his way around the car.
“Spines?” I asked him.
He was breathing heavily. “Poisonous spines,” he elaborated. “He shoots them from his tail.”
It wasn’t the first time I’d have like a little warning.
I peered around the car. The manticore gestured for the kobaloi to circle us. “Okay, so watch out for the spines,” I said.
“And the tail and the teeth,” Plutus cautioned.
I cursed under my breath. “I wish you had stayed in the car,” I said through gritted teeth.
“I'm the reason why they haven't killed you yet,” he told me. “They need me alive.”
“I need you alive too,” I reminded him, peering around the side of the car. The kobaloi were a little too close to us for my liking. “Stay here.”
I didn't wait for him to respond. I rushed our attackers. I didn't have a plan, but it didn't really matter. I surprised the kobaloi nearest me and tackled him, bringing it to the ground with my weight. His head hit the concrete with a sickening crack, and when I moved on to the second guy, the first didn't get up from his spot on the ground. A concussion hopefully.
The other kobaloi was more prepared. He growled and leaped towards me. I grappled him and punched him in the face, so hard that I busted the knuckles of my right hand. He instantly went limp and I threw him aside.
They were pathetic little worms though I was glad they weren't more trouble. It could have been very bad if they were a bit harder to immobilize.
A poisoned spine sizzled by me. I screeched involuntarily and backpedaled away from it. Quick movement flashed on my other side and I stopped abruptly.
Scorpion tail, remember the scorpion tail! my mind screamed.
I turned to face the manticore head on. I was no longer seeing the man in disguise; I saw the manticore in all his terrifying glory, cl
oser to me than I had thought he was.
I couldn't help it: I screamed. The manticore reared back, and one, vicious lion claw flung out, catching me by the throat. He lifted me up by the neck, automatically blocking my windpipe and causing me to choke. It had been a while since I was restrained like this, and I forgot how much it hurt.
I fumbled for the gun, but my hands weren't working the way they should. The gun clattered to the ground, desperately far out of reach. I would have cried out in frustration, except that I couldn't because my throat was closed.
The manticore demanded my full attention. I was staring into his mouth, three rows of terrifying teeth that could rip me to shreds if he wanted. Which he probably did.
I uselessly pummeled at the lion's paw with my bloodied fist. He held me fast, and my punches on his arm weren't really doing anything except making me look pathetic.
The manticore picked up on that.
“Some form of protection you are,” he sneered at me. “You're not even worth the effort. I don't know why Hades decided to put the fate of his only son in such...incapable hands,” he crowed. He actually turned me from side to side, as if he was inspecting me. Like a cat plays with a mouse.
“So pathetic,” he spat in my face. Those teeth were so close to me, that tail so menacingly near my face. My eyes widened when I realized this could be it. I could be dead any second now.
Abruptly, he reared back, dropping me gasping to the floor.
“Not quite!”
Plutus appeared behind him. At that moment, I saw what he did. He had taken one of the poisonous barbs and driven it into the manticore's shoulder blades. The monster was screeching, reaching unsuccessfully to get the barb out of his back.
I didn't have time to marvel. I grabbed the God Gun and scrambled to my feet, drove the barrel into the creature's chest and fired. The blast was so loud, like the sonic boom of a jet engine, and I was sure the entire world heard it. The manticore's face went slack and he crumpled to the ground, revealing an ichor-covered Plutus behind him.
The manticore wasn't done with his taunting. Even dying, he was still trying to insult us.
“Heh, you are so foolish, mortals,” the manticore sneered, spluttering blood. “You...really...are...stupid...”
He stilled. The image of the man/lion/scorpion beast flickered once and reverted to the big, hairy man from before. Then, to my utter shock, his body disintegrated into a fine dust.
“What?” I asked. God, my voice sounded hoarse and gross.
“Did he disappear?” Plutus asked, wiping the gunk off his face. It was crumbling and disintegrating as he did so.
“You can't smell that?” I managed to joke. Plutus allowed a grim smile. “Yes, he disappeared. Like dust.”
“It's because he's a monster,” he explained. “They don't really have physical bodies on this plane, so they disappear when they're killed.”
“Makes cleaning up easier.” I'd been worried that I would have the body of a monster on my hands, and I wouldn't quite know what to do with that.
Clean up. Shit, the gas station attendant would have seen everything and had probably already called the cops.
“Stay here,” I told Plutus.
I flipped my hoodie over my head to hide me from prying video cameras. I jogged into the gas station to deal with the gas station attendant. To my utter disbelief and great relief, the attendant's counter was facing away from us. In addition, the teenaged attendant had a pair of earbuds in, listening to music that I could hear even from the entrance to the gas station.
Apparently, he had gone to the same hospitality school as the motel attendant in Las Vegas. He couldn't have cared less about what happened to the gas station.
There might have been video cameras, but if the attendant didn't suspect anything, they wouldn't check them until far later, if ever.
I paid for twenty-five dollars' worth of gas and two bottles of water. The attendant didn't even look up at me; he was texting on his phone the entire time.
I breathed a sigh of relief. We were so lucky.
I jogged back out to the Prelude and started pumping gas. I wanted to get out of here as soon as I could, just in case the station attendant wizened up.
“All good?” Plutus asked.
“Hopefully,” I told him.
One of the kobaloi stirred, waking up from his stupor. I saw my chance to get some answers. I moved over to him and hauled him up against the Prelude. That completely woke him up. At first, he snarled at me, but I increased the pressure on his chest and he started whimpering like a few spineless gangsters I've dealt with in my time.
“Please don't hurt me!” he whined. His voice was high-pitched, like a squeaky mouse. In fact, I felt a shred of sympathy for the little guy.
Then again, he had just been hunting us with a manticore, so I didn't feel too bad that he was frightened of us.
I swallowed, putting on my bad cop persona. “How are you following us?”
He sniveled and started crying. I repeated my question and gave him a rough shake, at which he only cried more.
Apparently, I needed to ratchet up my bad cop routine.
“If you don't tell me, so help me, I'll...” It was a bit much, but he really believed me.
“Meester Stephen Cross!” the critter cried. “He has eyes on every highway watching for you...”
Of course he does. I sighed. Leave it to a billionaire to have hitmen all over the place looking for us. So there really was no other option left for us except to hurry to New York. Although I could take a circuitous route to the East Coast, all that would do would add driving time, making us more tired, and less ready to take on monsters, like manticores.
I didn't think I could handle that again.
The gas pump finished. We really had to get going.
“I'm going to leave you and your friend alive,” I nodded with my head over at the other limp kobaloi. The one I was holding sighed with relief. “But you have to do something for me.”
“Yes! Yesyesyes!” the little guy chirruped excitedly.
“You have to tell Stephen Cross to back off.”
The little guy's face fell. I saw it. He was more terrified of Stephen than he was of me. Whatever I did to threaten him, Stephen was still scarier. And that scared me in return.
He nodded gravely. I wasn't sure if it was an okay or if he was trying to get rid of me. I finally let him go. He quickly dusted himself off, watching me warily. I waved him on, and he scurried to grab his partner and throw him into the Escalade.
“Come on,” I told Plutus, “let's go. Hopefully that kobaloi can turn a few hitmen and monsters from following us. I doubt it though.”
He was grinning. “Kobalos,” he corrected. “Kobaloi is plural.”
“I like them even less now,” I grimly declared as I got into the car. Plutus felt his way around to the other side and got in. I watched the mirror as the kobaloi...kobalos threw the car into a U-turn and careened away.
While I doubted they would do anything, I was glad that we were at least in the clear for now.
19
Perhaps it was because of the kobaloi telling Stephen about what happened or maybe we were that lucky, but we didn't hit any more trouble on our drive. We stopped in Oklahoma City that night at another seedy hotel.
After another pizza delivery, I made Plutus take the bed with my promise to him that I would sleep in the bed the next night. Luckily there was a couch at this place, so I got some decent sleep on it.
I was exhausted, so I appreciated the extra bit of comfort. Driving so much by myself was brutal, and after my coma, I was pretty wiped. I slept for a good ten hours that night, slipping into a dreamless sleep. Tisiphone wasn't there on the other side to warn me about anything else. It seemed like everyone was giving me my space to sleep.
However, I did have trouble with my thoughts about Plutus. He'd saved my life today, and as much as I didn't want to admit it, I wanted to find some sort of reason why. Some reason o
ther than a professional one.
The next day, our drive to Columbus was blissfully free of any sort of trouble. Both Plutus and I were exhausted, so much of the drive went by in silence. One of the major shortfalls about the Prelude was that it only had AM radio, so the listening material sucked. I managed to stay awake through sheer determination and biting the inside of my cheek. A few times, I even felt myself drifting off.
Gotta get to New York, gotta get to New York, gotta get to New York.
It became my mantra.
At a small pharmacy somewhere in Missouri, I stopped to pick up a pair of scissors and hair dye to make my hair lighter. It was going to ruin my hair, which was my one feature that I loved. It was a small price to pay for a bit of anonymity. In my haste to get away from the kobaloi and any other hitmen waiting for us, I'd pretty much driven both the car and myself into the ground. I had forgotten to dye my hair the night before, but if we were going to New York tomorrow, I wanted at least a little bit of a disguise. So, no matter how tired I was, I was still going to change our hair styles.
I pulled into a decent-looking hotel around 8pm. At that point, I didn't care if we were recognized. All I wanted was a decent bed without loud neighbors and without feeling like I was destitute.
To my delight, they had a room option with two twin beds. They also had room service. If we both got caught tomorrow, at least we would have had a good night's rest and a full stomach.
I collapsed on my bed as soon as we entered the room. After inspecting his bed and the surroundings with his hands, Plutus let out a loud, contented sigh as he eased into it.
“We should've been staying in hotels like this the entire way,” he said.
“Should we order room service?” I groaned, reaching for the table card on the night stand. “Something other than pizza and burgers?”
He flashed a grin at me. “That'd be great.”
I dialed the kitchen downstairs and ordered some pasta and a Caesar salad. As an afterthought, I also ordered a bottle of pinot noir. A few glasses might help me to relax. I had no idea what would happen tomorrow; I was going to enjoy tonight.