by Kenny Soward
Bess knew fade rippers led long lives, but no one knew exactly how long. ECC experts thought it was in the hundreds of years, but to hear them say it was staggering. Fascinating. “Okay, wow. That's a lot to cover.”
“Yep.”
“So tell us about yourself, Bess.” That was Ingrid, leaning forward around big Crash and leveraging herself with a hand on one of his forearms to give herself a lift. “What is this work you do?”
“For the ECC, right?” Selix said.
“Yeah, I work for the ECC.”
“Refresh me,” Lonnie said.
“The ECC,” Selix said. “Eminence Command Central. A gang of dangerous religious zealots backed by the Vatican whose purpose, among other things, is to wipe us out. They call their warriors Holy Avengers, like Bess here.”
“Yeah,” Lonnie said, nodding at Bess’s backpack where it rested on the table near her hand. “I worked out the dangerous part, just wasn’t sure what ECC stood for.”
Bess stuck out her jaw, lips pressed firmly together. “We’re not zealots. The ECC protects innocent men and women from you. We aren’t perfect. That’s why we go to church. To bond with the Spirit of Christ and discover a more perfect path.”
Elsa rolled her eyes and snorted.
“Sit, Elsa,” Selix said, annoyance creeping into her voice.
The snippy whorchal scooted over a couple of inches but that’s all the real estate she'd relinquish.
“We’ve been around a long time, my sister and I.” Ingrid leaned on her arms across the table. “Admittedly, many people have benefited from their devotion to the church. But as a whole, it has made your kind weaker.”
It was Bess’s turn to snicker. “A lesson in human nature from one of you? No thanks. I’d say you spent most of your time on Earth leeching off God’s children.”
“Oh, please, dearie.”
Bess’s heat rose. “You don’t kill and eat us? C’mon, I’m not stupid.”
“Yes, of course we do. Many of you are delicious. Some, not so much.”
“I’ll bet we are. Probably hunt little boys and girls. So brave of you.” Bess's stomach churned, that nervous tension right before a fight returning.
Selix’s cool words drifted into the argument, one hand sliding forth to capture Elsa’s elbow, the other placed on Ingrid’s startlingly pale shoulder. “You see us as monsters, Bess. I can’t deny you that opinion. Wouldn’t even begin to refute it. But we have our place. We kill other criminals more than anyone else. Do a lot of your work for you.”
It made a sort of sick sense. Criminals ran with fade rippers, died hand-in-hand with them, too. They killed each other off sometimes, too Is that what happened to this gang? Should she be thanking them?
Ingrid got up from the table with a spin, breaking Selix’s hold, moving around Crash to sit on the other side of him, three seats away.
Bess pressed back in her chair, hand sliding inside her backpack.
“Ingrid.” It was Lonnie this time, his voice carrying a low warning.
Ingrid retreated, a playful glint in her pale eyes. “Oh, Lonnie. I'm just interested in why Bess is here. I want to know what kind of trouble she got into.”
“Me too.” Elsa eased around Lonnie, mimicking her sister’s move. He was too slow to grab her.
Bess’s finger settled on the MP5’s trigger even as she nudged the barrel in Elsa’s direction. She was about to pull when the whorchal spun one of the folding chairs, slammed it down, and banged her ass into it.
Both sisters were a handful of feet away, dangerously close.
“Code o’ Peace,” Gruff said again, raising his voice as if it could stop the approaching altercation.
Elsa was outside the last respectable comfort zone Bess would allow. Another foot, and she'd paint the walls in whorchal blood.
But Elsa feigned innocent concern. “Yes, Bess. Tell us your story. Who beat up on you so bad you had to come here with us lowlifes?”
Bess’s eyes ticked back and forth between the two sisters, daring them to test her further. A quick glance at Selix, and the young woman seemed content to watch Bess parlay with the whorchals. Lonnie’s expression remained uncomfortable, but he made no further mood to stop them.
Bess got a picture of the makeup of this group. The order of things. These two whorchals were the enforcers. The killers. The most expendable. Crash was the muscle, the protection, the sea of calm to the others’ storm. Selix was the leader. No, it was more likely she was a team with Lonnie. They were partners. Lovers, for sure.
In any case, they needed to be put in their places quick. Needed to understand her rules.
“Ever heard of silvershaker rounds?”
Elsa and Ingrid exchanged looks.
Ingrid shook her head. “Why, it seems we have not. What are they?”
“The latest ECC invention. Kind of an all-purpose round. An advancement on the silvershard rounds. Hollowpoint type infused with UV grains, blessed salt, and silver shard. Hits you and explodes.”
Ingrid made a face. “I hate these silvershaker things.”
“Sounds nasty,” Crash admitted. “The UV grains don’t bother me, though.”
“These UV grains are fresh from the labs. Each grain gives off UV-B light at triple the previous dose. Pure radiation, I guess. Not sure. Want to find out?”
“How many grains are in one of your little bullets, dearie?”
“About a hundred.”
Elsa deflated. “I hate labs.”
“Yeah, so, I'm going to be honest here and hope you appreciate that. I’ve got my MP5 trained on you.” She nodded to Elsa. “Thirty-round magazine set to three-round bursts. Got a pistol under the table.
“Code o’ Peace,” Gruff muttered weakly, looking back and forth between everyone, hoping to find a single soul to help him settle things.
The sisters exchanged another look. Elsa admitted, “Doesn’t sound like a fun time.”
“No,” the other agreed.
Bess fired her last verbal salvo, hoping they'd back off for good. “Yeah, Krag wasn't too thrilled either.”
“Krag?” Ingrid pitched forward but not in a threating manner. More like a teenager leaning into a juicy piece of gossip. “He’s one big fellow. What about him?”
“You wanted me to tell you how I got here. Well, that’s how. Tangled with him a few days ago.”
“And you’re still alive?”
“Yep. Put several rounds of these babies into him. Stopped him in his tracks.” She let that linger.
Lonnie said, “Look, Bess. You're safe. No one's going to attack you.”
“Then back them off.”
Lonnie looked at Selix. For what? Approval? His eyes returned to Bess as if searching for trust in return. “All right, ladies. Give it a rest.”
“But Lons…”
“Step off.”
Ingrid shrugged and sighed, yet she complied, rising out of the chair and backing into Crash. The man wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her into his lap, corded muscle and tendon clamping tight on the dangerous creature.
Elsa struggled with the idea a moment, contemplating how much further she could push things. Her lips squeezed together in a sideways smile, eyes narrowing with a flash of mirth. She shoved herself backwards with hard-muscled, wiry legs until her chair tipped back.
Lonnie shifted in his seat and caught her as she went limp with a sigh, dragged her into his lap, and trapped her with his arms. A mixed expression, relief and slight discomfort, passed over his face.
Elsa nuzzled against Lonnie, cheek pressed into his neck. “See, we’re nice. We like cuddles, too.”
Lonnie rolled his eyes and then fixed them on Bess. “Okay?”
Bess allowed herself to relax. Took her finger off the MP5’s trigger. “Okay.”
Selix’s smooth tone drifted in. “Now that we’re getting along, can we talk?”
“Yeah.” Bess got her angle. “I, uh, I thought I might tell you guys what happened when I went to
take out Krag. Thought you could help me with something in return.”
Selix nodded. “Go on.”
Chapter 19
Bess gave them a straightforward account. Her orders to come to Covington and engage the whorchal. Kluga, a real tough mother. She recalled the trip up from Louisville, avoiding any details that might jeopardize ECC communication tactics, and leaving out her father. She described the last-second message she’d received to pickup someone named Anderson at a rest stop on the way.
She explained that she didn't trust Anderson right away despite him having the correct codes. Told them about entering Krag’s lair and Anderson’s betrayal. Bess left out any mention of her godsight. She recalled her capture, Krag’s blood distillery in the attic, and the guy hanging up to drain.
“Oh, that sounds delicious,” Elsa remarked.
Revulsion kicked up in her stomach. She wanted to squeeze the trigger more than ever but rejected the feeling, trying to keep her goal in mind. Ignoring the whorchal, she continued, leaving out any reference to the sucker creature and making it sound like Krag planned on using her for food.
“Now you’re lying.” Elsa, again.
“What?”
“Krag wouldn't have fed on you. We don’t drink `Venger blood. It tastes horrible.”
“But you wanted mine a minute ago.”
“I was teasing with you, dearie.”
Lonnie nodded. “They do that. Fuck with me all the time.”
“Mmmm,” Elsa said, turning her face up and giving Lonnie a lick along his jawline.
“You’re not going to give us the full story,” Selix said. “That’s okay. We understand that someone infiltrated the ECC and tricked you into picking up Krag’s familiar. Then you got jacked. Could be they wanted payback for you being such a big ECC hero. Krag is older than any of us, and he runs the show.”
Lonnie shot a glance over his shoulder at Selix, but said nothing.
Bess swallowed. “Well, I thought the same thing. Payback or something, but—”
“But what?”
Bess shook her head. How much information should she give these monsters? She’d told them too much already, yet Selix had tactfully given Bess token info. An opening to reciprocate. While the ECC knew there was a loose organization among fade ripper gangs, this was actual proof. An interview she’d be a fool not to continue. And the way Selix talked about the ECC being infiltrated, her breadth of insight made Bess feel woefully in the dark. A darkness upon which she wanted to shed light.
Yet, her nerves were fraying, the tension in the air so thick.
Ingrid grinned. “I know what you’re thinking, `Venger. Maybe there’s big trouble for you in your holy war. So much more you want to learn, but can you trust us beasts? Are we full of lies and deceits?”
Bess nodded. “Something like that.”
“We are certainly full of lies and deceits, sister.”
“You, perhaps.” Ingrid leaned forward, stretching in Crash’s grasp and leaning on the table. “But I think Bess would find the rest of us rather accommodating with sharing information. We play well with others, when they play well with us."
Bess chuckled. “Right. You’d kill me in an instant and brag about it to your gang friends.”
“Code o’ Peace,” Gruff murmured.
Lonnie smirked. “We don’t run with any other gangs. We're all that’s left of the Eighth Streeters. And let me tell you, we’re not real high on the fade ripper VIP list.”
“True enough,” Selix said. “How do you think we ended up here?”
"We almost died," Elsa nodded. "A lot."
Bess believed them. That’s what she’d overheard, and they had no reason to lie. Someone named Makare hunting them. Still, she hoped she was making the right decision parlaying with the enemy. But leaving without valuable information would be plain stupid. With a sigh, Bess put her Glock on the table and leaned forward. “Okay. They strapped me to this table, I heard Krag and Anderson in the next room discussing their boss. Someone called the Turu Tukte, the House of Bet-Ohman, or something. Anderson wanted to please this Turu Tukte, and I got the impression it was a woman. Thirty minutes ago, I overheard y’all talking. Sounds like something that could add up.”
The gang grew quiet. Lonnie turned to Selix, slow dread spreading on his face.
“I just love her accent,” Elsa said, staring at Bess while they waited for Lonnie or Selix to say something. “So cute.”
Bess sighed again.
Lonnie leaned forward, his gaze intense, arms gripping Elsa tight.
“Ow, Lons,” Elsa mewled. “Not so rough. Or rougher.”
Lonnie said, "This woman. This Turu Tukte. Did they say where she was from? Did they mention Xester?”
Bess shook her head. “No, they didn’t mention Xester. Who is she, this Turu Tukte, Bet-Ohman woman? Is she Makare?”
Selix stood but left her fingertips linger on the table. “Makare is from Hell. She rules a prominent family there called the Bet-Ohmans, in a city called Xester. Our Lonnie was born there. Makare—”
“She’s my sister.”
“Oh.” Bess’s mind reeled with the information. She was sure no one in the ECC had ever gotten such personal details from fade rippers, and it made her realize how much they didn’t know. She wanted to get out her tablet and take notes but that would mean taking her hand off her machine gun. “So, she’s a demon. Are you?
Lonnie laughed and then pulled a face like he was explaining the birds-and-bees to a pre-teen. “No, I’m not a demon. We’re not demons. But she’s definitely not a friend. She’s the reason we left Hell. She killed my mother, took over the ruling house, my ruling house. We tried to stop her.” Lonnie struggled with the old memories. He shook his head, eyes distant. “But she was too ruthless. So, we found a gate, made a tether, and crossed to Earth. We've been here for three or four-hundred years. Honestly, I lost count.”
“You’ve been in hiding from your sister on Earth for centuries?”
“That’s right. But now—”
“She caught up with you.”
“We weren’t sure, but it looks that way.” Lonnie said. “Three days ago we were attacked by just about every gang in the city. Took out one of our friends."
Crash raised his fist. “The Brit.”
“But we got our revenge. Burnt them to cinders. Did your job for you, I guess. I got hurt real bad. All of us did. Came here to heal up. At first we thought it was regular gang bullshit. But after hearing what you have to say, makes me wonder.”
“It still might not be her.” Selix brushed hair from her eyes and smoothed it back against her head.
Crash shifted Ingrid from his left leg to his right. “It is Makare, people. C’mon. You know her.”
“Yeah,” Ingrid said. “What are we going to do about her?”
“If it is her, we have to fight,” Crash said. “We've been paying too high a price for running.”
Selix shot another glance at Lonnie, eyes grown glassy with emotion. “If what we’re thinking is true, we just fought her. The first wave of whatever bullshit she’s concocting. Look what happened. We almost died. You want to end up like the Brit?”
Crash eased his bulk back, chair creaking. “The man died fighting.”
Bess couldn’t say she held a modicum of sympathy for these creatures, but one thing was for sure, she shared their predicament. World turned upside down, or at least tilted sideways. To Lonnie, she said, “Well?”
He shook his head. “Can’t go topside yet. Still hot as hell, packs of ghoulkine and who knows what else.”
Bess nodded, that uneasy sensation in her stomach rising. Even if she left the Under River, there was no telling what awaited her. Another fight, most likely. “I have no idea what’s up with the ECC or how far we've been infiltrated. There’s no juice down here, and I’ve used up my extra chargers. Can't reach the outside world, anyway. But if I could get my laptop up there, plug in, and get a satellite signal, I could check things out.�
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“So, we're stuck together another day or two.”
“A day, tops,” Bess admitted.
An uneasy silence fell across the group as each of them digested the conversation.
Gruff waited, then grinned. “Good. Tempers coolin’. All friends here. You want to see the children now, Mr. Lonnie?”
Lonnie gave a brief nod, his eyes gone distant for a moment before snapping back into focus. “Yeah. Can I have a smoke first?”
“Can smoke in the receivin’ room.”
Lonnie turned to the others. “You going to be okay?”
“We’ll find something to keep us busy,” Elsa said, her voice flat and sober.
“Stay out of trouble.”
“Yes, Lons,” Elsa said with pointed annoyance, eyes rolling like a frustrated teenager. And damned if her T-shirt didn’t make perfect sense at that moment.
Lonnie patted her cheek and let the whorchal go. Elsa started to rise but bounced back into Lonnie’s lap once for good measure. Before sauntering off, Elsa stopped and regarded Bess, a hungry, lustful look in her eyes. “You can come, too. We promise not to hurt you, unless you want...”
Bess shook her head, a chill crawling up her spine. “No thanks. I’ll opt for the tour.”
Lonnie conferred with Selix for a moment. They butted foreheads and briefly hugged. Kissed. Bess had to admit they fit well together, a fine looking junkie fade ripper couple. She almost laughed at that, laughed at the fact she’d made a quick and somewhat suitable truce with a pack of monsters with the primary goal of not killing each other. What would her father think? He’d be proud that Bess was working the situation to survive, to retrieve information for the ECC, to serve the Lord, no matter how dangerous the job.
Bess got out of her chair and stepped back, pulling her hand from her backpack and putting it on her hip in case she needed to get to her pistol. “I’m bringing my guns,” she told Lonnie.
“I’d expect nothing less,” he said, brushing by her to follow the waddling Gruff down another set of tunnels in the vast Under River.
As he passed her, Bess triggered her godsight. Lonnie’s aura still wafted off him in tendrils of bright yellow fire. With a glance at the others, Bess followed Lonnie and Gruff into the bowels of the Under River.