Gods of Manhattan

by Scott Mebus

  “There has to be more!”

  Rory threw up his hands. He looked toward Toy, who was being backed into a corner. Soon he’d be trapped. It was hopeless. Why is it always about money? He never had enough. He slumped in defeat. And that’s when he saw them. Right in the middle of the floor: glittering silver and copper coins. They must have fallen out of his pocket when he tripped. Rory pointed them out to Hex, who let out a worried sigh.

  “Perfect! So who’s gonna get them?”

  Rory looked back at the giant beetle, floating above Toy and ready to kill.

  “I’ll do it. I’m faster than you.”

  Hex didn’t argue. He clapped Rory on the shoulder.

  “Just run out, grab the money, and run back. Don’t stop for anything. Okay? Go!”

  Rory leaped out into the open floor, heading full speed for those tiny, shiny dots. He heard Hex gasp behind him.

  “Rory, the beetle sees you. Come back!”

  But he couldn’t come back. Even though he could hear the buzz of those huge wings coming closer, he couldn’t stop now. Skidding to a halt, he bent down and grabbed the coins. He straightened up just in time to see the beetle hovering directly above him. He screamed before he could stop himself.

  The huge black eyes stared at him as the mouth opened wide. Rory could smell the sulfur in the air. He could imagine what came next. The bright tongue of flame would rush over him all at once. He’d be burned to a crisp. To his surprise, however, the mouth slowly closed again. Evidently the beetle decided that Rory must have been like Toy, impervious to flame. So instead of being burned alive, he’d be impaled on one of the beetle’s front claws. Wonderful. Rory stared upward, frozen, waiting for the strike to come. The front leg came shooting down, headed for Rory’s chest. It was just about to plunge into his heart when a small blur leaped toward him, pushing him out of the way. The leg crashed into the floor, a small body impaled on it. Toy. The paper boy turned his head to Rory, and for the first time, sound breathed out of his paper mouth.

  “Oooooo!”

  Go. Rory scrambled to his feet and raced back to the door. The beetle rose behind him, Toy still impaled on its front claw. Rory reached the door and grabbed the rest of the money. He turned to Hex.

  “What do I do now?”

  Hex stared out at Toy dangling from the beetle’s leg with horrified eyes, frozen by the sight. Rory struck his shoulder.

  “Come on! What now?”

  Hex sprang to life.

  “Place the money on the paper.”

  Rory dumped his fistful of money onto the paper. The bills began to fly around the coins, twirling like a hurricane. The coins began to swirl as well, until all the money spiraled like water going down a drain. It spun faster and faster before sinking down into the paper, leaving no trace. Hex breathed out slowly.

  “Somebody’s bank account just went up by a tiny bit.”

  The paper came free of the door, falling into Rory’s hand. It was his. Thinking fast, he reached up and untied the string, which quickly pulled free.

  Rory turned to look up at the beetle. It darted around, waiting for the line to tug it back. The string whipped around behind it, flapping loosely. Finally, the beetle discovered it was free. With a blinding rush of speed, it rose toward the stained-glass window in the ceiling. Crashing through, it sent small glass shards raining to the floor. Then it disappeared through the black hole in the ceiling. Falling with the glass was a small shape, which thudded to the ground in front of them. Hex and Rory ran up to it. Toy looked up at them from the ground, feeling for the large hole in the middle of his chest.

  Hex kneeled down beside him and spoke tenderly. “You’re all right. You’re almost there! You did very well.”

  He leaned over and kissed Toy on the forehead again. Toy struggled to his feet, his hand dangling from his wrist. His paper skin bubbled in places, with small black cracks running through the scarred surface. His skin tone no longer shone pink, but rather yellow and brown from where the flames had covered him. He stood, swaying slightly. Rory looked at Hex.

  “Is he all right like this?”

  “Don’t worry. We’ll fix him up. Everything will be all right soon enough.”

  Toy staggered toward the door and tried to turn the big metal wheel in the center. Hex walked up to him, gently pushing him aside. He gave the wheel a big spin. It twirled around before stopping with a click. Hex turned back toward Rory.

  “Magic time.”

  He pulled the door open and stepped inside the vault. Toy hurried in after him. Rory folded the paper and placed it in his pocket. He gave the white room one last look before rushing over to step through the door…where he saw the very last thing he expected, even in his darkest dreams.

  18

  TOY’S SECRET

  Cars buzzed by the northern edge of Central Park despite the late hour, but inside the park it was quiet. Soft yellow streetlamps lined the paths that twisted along the man-made hills and valleys, giving the still park a magical, otherworldly feel. One of those paths opened out onto the sidewalk that ran along the northern edge of the park. A dark figure loped up to this opening from the street outside and peered in. A car passing by lit the figure for a moment, but the driver could not see the Indian crouched down, leaning up against thin air as if it were solid, pushing but not able to step through the seemingly open entrance. Wampage, for it was he, turned to the panting dog that had followed him.

  “Find her,” he said. The dog yipped once, not wanting to enter the park. Wampage knelt down and stared into the dog’s face.

  “Please. Find her.”

  The dog licked Wampage’s hand and took off, rushing through the entrance and quickly disappearing into the trees. His face pained as if this were the last place he wanted to be, Wampage sat back against the wall to wait.

  The moon had long set by the time a rustle in the bushes on the other side of the wall roused Wampage from his vigil. He turned just in time to catch the leaping dog in his arms, pulling back as the canine licked at his face. He listened to the wind blowing gently from the park, but he could hear nothing else. He set the dog on the sidewalk.

  “Thank you for trying,” he said sadly to his companion’s eager face.

  “Wampage?” a voice called out from the other side of the wall. Wampage rushed to the entrance, leaning up against the invisible barrier with his ear to the air.

  “Sooleawa?” he said. “Is it you?”

  “It is, Wanderer,” her voice answered. “You sent that brave hound to fetch me, and here I am. I have missed you, old friend. We all miss you.”

  Sooleawa—the sister of his oldest friend, Tackapausha. Medicine woman and one of the wise, her voice carried much weight among the Munsees. Sachem Penhawitz had taken no wife in the spirit world, leaving his daughter to speak for the women. Her knowledge of magic was unrivaled, and she led them all in their rites. Wampage had called to her since he valued her wisdom above all others. He leaned his forehead against the invisible wall, his stone facade cracking at her voice.

  “It is beyond suffering to be left behind.”

  “What did I tell you about blaming yourself?” Sooleawa’s voice said sternly. “Now why did you call for me? Not that I am not glad of it, but we have not heard from you in a century. Is the last shell pit in danger?”

  “It is safe. You will make wampum there once again, I promise. I bring news. About a young Sabbeleu—”

  “Is this the young man spied strolling through our prison grounds yesterday?” Sooleawa interrupted.

  “Yes. Rory is his name.”

  “Rory. I will tell Soka. She spoke with him, you know. I think she is enamored, though it is hard to tell with her. She calls herself levelheaded, but she is like a bird flying from want to want.”

  Wampage had never met Sooleawa’s daughter, Soka, nor her brother, Tammand. They both had been born after the Trap. He had only heard about their birth during those first years when he still came down to the Trap for news. Woul
d he now finally get the chance to see his dear friend’s children?

  “Who was the one who shot at Rory?” he asked.

  “Oh, that was Tammand. He meant only mischief; I do not think he would have hit the boy. My son has fallen in with bad friends. He is very angry. He does not realize that there is no hope in his path. Only destruction. But he is not alone in his feelings. In fact, you would be surprised to know who has turned to such dark thoughts as the years pass and we remain imprisoned.”

  “That is my news,” Wampage said. “I believe that the Sabbeleu is attempting to free you as we speak. A mighty newcomer has discovered the way to unlock the Trap, and I believe Rory is going to attempt to help him. I do not want to give any of us false hope, but there is a chance you might be freed very soon.”

  “What!”

  Wampage was surprised to hear fear in Sooleawa’s voice rather than the joy he was expecting.

  “Can he truly accomplish this?” she asked.

  “Yes, I think so.”

  “Then you must stop him!”

  The vault looked nothing like Rory expected. For one thing, there was hardly anything in it. No gold bars, no piles of money or jewels, not even some old baseball cards. Instead there stood a simple glass case in the middle of a small room the size of his family’s living room. The walls were an ugly gray with a large, impressive door across from him that he decided must lead to the bank proper. Inside the case was the white belt, gleaming in the dim light. He recognized it from his dreams. But that wasn’t what grabbed Rory’s attention. What shocked Rory was the small skeleton lying at the base of the glass case, dressed in a tattered shirt and jeans.

  Toy let out a piercing cry and ran over to the skeleton, throwing himself at its feet. He threw back his head and out of his mouth came a sound that turned Rory’s stomach into water. The anguish and the despair that poured from the small paper boy tore Rory to pieces. Handing the lock and the key to Rory, Hex ran up to Toy, his eyes wild.

  “It’s too late! We can mourn later. Quickly, Rory, put on the belt!”

  Hex swung and smashed the glass case with his arm. He reached in and snatched the belt. Toy ignored him, continuing to wail. Rory looked over at Hex in confusion.

  “What’s going on? What’s wrong with him?”

  Hex hurried over with the gleaming white belt in hand.

  “I’ll explain later. We don’t have time. Tobias could be here any moment so we must act quickly. Put on the belt!”

  He held out the belt, but Rory didn’t take it.

  “No. I want to know what’s going on. Whose skeleton was that? Is it from that last mission?”

  “Yes,” Hex said impatiently, still holding out the belt. “I’ll tell you all about it after. But we must act quickly, or we’ll lose our chance to make this right.”

  Rory could tell something was wrong. The wild look in Hex’s eyes. The screaming of the paper boy bent over the skeleton. He stepped back.

  “Tell me now. Whose skeleton was that?”

  A new voice broke in.

  “That’s Jason, isn’t it?”

  Hex whirled around as Rory tried to see who was talking. To his immense surprise, his sister stood in the doorway, waving her arms at him. But it had been a male voice that called out….

  Hex was looking down near Bridget’s feet.

  “Fritz. What are you doing here?”

  “You’re supposed to be dead, Tom,” the voice said.

  With a shock, Rory realized that the voice was coming from the small cockroach at Bridget’s feet. The cockroach sat on the back of a large rat. It was the same creature he saw on the sidewalk in front of his house! But what was wrong with the cockroach’s head? Why was it all pink?

  “I go by Hex now, Fritz. Tom failed. Hex won’t.”

  “That’s Jason, isn’t it?” Fritz repeated. “That’s your son in that paper thing.”

  A flash of pain flew across Hex’s face.

  “I couldn’t let him die. They would have taken him like they took all the others.”

  “So you put his soul in that paper body?”

  “It was the only way. I thought, hoped, that Tobias would keep his real body alive, considering how valuable someone like him is. I never thought he’d leave it here to mock me!”

  “Is that what you told Jason?” Fritz said flatly. “Did he think his body would be waiting for him, magically preserved?”

  “What else could I have done? I had no choice!”

  “Rory! We’re here to save you!” Bridget burst in, not understanding what was going on.

  “You left your son’s body to rot for fifty years,” Fritz continued.

  Comprehension slowly dawned on Rory. He turned to Hex in astonishment.

  “Toy is your son? What’s going on!”

  “I thought you all died,” Fritz said. “How did you escape?”

  Hex pointed to his forehead.

  “A little trick I know. You just need some blood and dirt, both of which I had suddenly found myself surrounded by. The rest perished when the Brokers of Tobias caught us in the vault. I barely made it out myself. Eventually I came upon Bertold right outside the bank and he told me where he had hidden the lock and key. With some…persuasion.”

  “Did you…did you do something to him…?” Fritz’s face was ashen. Suddenly, Hex pulled out a pistol and trained it on Rory. Bridget screamed.

  “Put on the belt, Rory!” Hex yelled. “We don’t have time for this!”

  “Don’t hurt him!” Bridget ran for Rory’s side, but Hex stopped her with his gun before she could reach him.

  “Stay out of this, Bridget. Put on the belt, Rory.”

  “That’s a soul pistol, Tom,” Fritz said flatly. “That’s what you used on your son, isn’t it? You’re the monster Bertold was raving about.”

  “PUT ON THE BELT!” Hex screamed. “We have to do this now! The Brokers will be here any minute! This is all for the greater good.”

  “Then why the gun?” Rory’s voice trembled.

  “I don’t want to shoot you. Just put on the belt. We’re almost out of time.”

  “How could you sacrifice your own son like that?” Fritz asked, keeping his voice calm.

  “I didn’t plan to. Everything was going fine until the time came to turn the key. Then he refused! Refused me! He was the last person I ever expected to betray me…anyway, I thought I could fix it! I thought he was too valuable for Tobias to waste! But that’s not important right now. There are sacrifices that have to be made to right great wrongs. There are tasks that have to be accomplished, no matter what the personal cost. This is the right thing to do, I promise you. I can’t dwell on who gets hurt; I have to think about who is helped.”

  Hex became more and more agitated as he spoke, desperately pleading with them.

  Toy stood up, letting what had once been his own body fall to the ground. His eyes were black as coal.

  Fritz’s voice grew even softer. “If you barely escaped with your life, Tom, when did you have time to gather up Jason’s soul? Unless you shot him before the guards came—”

  “He wouldn’t turn the key!” Hex screamed. “That was what he was made to do, and he wouldn’t do it! This has taken too long! I’m sorry, Rory, truly, but it has to be done.”

  He aimed his pistol at Rory’s chest and fired.

  “RORY!”

  Bridget screamed, leaping at Rory. She slammed into him, pushing him aside. The bullet intended for Rory ripped instead into her. Rory watched her mouth open in shock.

  “Bridget…”

  She fell, her eyes closing as her body hit the ground. Everyone stared at the small girl lying at Rory’s feet. Hex was shaking with anger.

  “Damn it! That wasn’t meant for you, you stupid girl!”

  Rory fell to his knees, cradling his sister in his arms.

  “Bridget. Bridget, can you talk? Oh God. Bridget, please don’t die. Please.”

  Tears poured down his devastated face as he held her. He
felt a hand on his shoulder. He looked up to see Toy staring down at him. Toy gestured toward Bridget’s body. Rory held her tight.

  “No. Don’t touch her.”

  Impatient, Toy pushed Rory aside and felt along Bridget’s back. Finally, he grunted in satisfaction and held up his hand. In his cracked paper palm lay a single bullet. It must have traveled all the way through Bridget’s body. But it looked strange. Instead of being dead silver, it glowed blue from within. Hex called over.

  “Please, Jason. Bring it to me.”

  Toy didn’t even turn around. He brought the bullet up to Bridget’s mouth. Suddenly, he was shoved to the ground. Looking up, Rory saw Hex looming over Toy.

  “Don’t you dare, Jason. I am your father! Give me that bullet!”

  “Don’t give it to him, Jason!”

  Fritz had finally recovered himself and rode into the fray. Rory felt something pushed into his hand as Toy brushed by him. He ran his thumb along the smooth bullet in his palm. It was warm, almost burning his hand. He backed away as Hex stood up, advancing on Toy.

  “I did so much for you! I carried you out of that death trap in my pocket, Jason. I had a new body made for you so you could go on!”

  Toy moaned, pointing to his mouth. Hex shook his head sadly.

  “You were just a child. I know children. They talk. They can’t help it. I was on the run. I couldn’t allow it. If you could talk…we wouldn’t have lasted a day, you know that. It was for the greater good. Now give me that bullet!”

  Suddenly, the sound of heavy footsteps drifted through the large door. Hex sighed.

  “It doesn’t have to be like this, Rory. This is the way you want it, remember that. All you had to do was turn that key.”

  Getting up, he grabbed Bridget’s body and slung it over his shoulder. Rory ran forward, but Hex grabbed Bridget’s neck.

  “She’s not dead, you know. I don’t want to hurt her, but I will if you make me.”

  Not dead! Those words cut through Rory’s grief like an arrow of hope. A loud clang came from the front of the vault, where the large gray door led into the bank. Hex backed up toward the door they had entered by.