Blood of the Masked God (Book 1): Red Wrath

by Gehrke, Gerhard

  I shook my head. “How am I supposed to do that? I can’t exactly force him to fly home. He’s faster and stronger.”

  “Yes. But as you said, he’s sick. The changes the world is going through are proving difficult for all of us. But if he is brought back here I can restore his senses.”

  “Then why don’t you go? Or send that psycho with the hedge clippers or one of your other hicks. Can’t you all fly?”

  “No, we can’t. We don’t all manifest the same gifts. Leaving here is painful and difficult. Your city is too far away. Some of us have tried in years past. Few survive. Before Diligence, one of us spent much of his time away and fought the evils of your world. But this was years ago. He went to war alongside your country. Perhaps you’ve heard of him. True Justice is what your people called him. But he was known as Patience to us.”

  “I heard of him.”

  “Of course you did, dear. I’m sure most schoolchildren were taught about him and his sacrifice, neh? And he went off with the greatest intentions. Was going to kill Hitler, he said. Turn the tide of the conflict. There was nothing any of us could say to change his mind. He went to England and met with the OSS. Downed a number of Axis planes during the Blitz.”

  “I’m hazy on my history,” I said impatiently.

  “Hmm. This is where the official record and what actually happened differ. Poor Patience. He went mad before he could do much to affect the outcome of the war. He was gone too long. When he didn’t return to his base, the Allies searched for him and didn’t find him. Two days later he showed up and started attacking Allied shipping near Ireland. It took the British hero Lady Britannia to stop him. She had to snap his neck. Like Diligence, he was sick.”

  “How did you learn all this?”

  “I went and searched for him. But I didn’t dare venture too far. Then I looked for someone I could interrogate who worked for the government. They concluded the Germans had an enhanced individual or some gadget that could control minds.”

  “You were alive then.”

  My comment wasn’t a question but she waved it off. “You’ve demonstrated your resilience in coming here and surviving long enough to return. You can make the journey back to the city to bring Diligence back. It has to be you.”

  I sat up straight on the bench. The ache in my stomach now felt like a case of bad gas. My head was clear, my senses crisp. I knew I could take the bench I was sitting on and knock Mercy to the ground. But then what?

  “You’ve gone out before. Why can’t you be the one to reel Chronos back in?”

  She shook her head. “It was easier when I was younger. But now each step away from home brings me great pain.”

  “So you’re blackmailing me to go save your boy.”

  “After everything he’s given your world, I don’t think this is asking much.”

  My jaw set. “You have no idea what you’re asking. If Chronos is going to die, then I say let him.”

  “But don’t you understand that he won’t die? He’ll only get worse. Like Patience when he lost his senses, Diligence remains strong. But as his mental state deteriorates, he will destroy and hurt people. Call it blackmail if you wish, but you’ll do this to save lives.”

  The tea that had settled my stomach was now making it sour. “How long will I be sick like this?”

  “You’re feeling better even now, neh? I can tell.”

  “Yes, I am. But will the sickness come back?”

  There followed the slightest hesitation. “Not if you return quickly. You’re young. Strong. I can sense that about you. But there isn’t much time. The longer Diligence remains away, the harder it will be to help him return.”

  “And if I refuse?”

  Mercy’s face hardened. “Don’t refuse.” I understood the implied threat perfectly.

  “Your son tried to kill me once already.”

  She untied a tasseled scarf from around her neck and handed it to me. “Show him this. Give it to him. Tell him Mother is waiting.”

  I looked at the scarf before stuffing it into a pocket. The stolen figurine was still there and the locket remained around my neck. Did Mercy know about them? Did she not care?

  Mercy refilled the cup and I swallowed it down.

  “Good girl,” she said.

  The younger woman appeared with a plate of cut apples and slices of buttered bread. I ate.

  “The tea and the food here—it will keep me from getting sick for a while, won’t it?” I asked with my mouth half-full. “If that’s the case then you better give me a to-go bag. I don’t want to have a relapse while I’m bringing your boy back home.”

  ***

  My request to see Carter and Megan fell on deaf ears. They wouldn’t even tell me if Princess Pike and her goon were also prisoners or if the villagers had figured out we weren’t exactly friends. I almost felt sorry for my new nemesis. I didn’t want to see her murdered by the residents of Dogwood.

  Mercy packed for me a small bundle of food—tiny corn muffins, a few carrots, and some jerky that smelled gamy. I wasn’t looking forward to noshing on dried and cured squirrel or opossum meat. But with each moment that passed after my snack, I was feeling stronger. A mild euphoria had come over me. All signs of the sickness had gone. I considered the possibility I had been drugged, but if so there was nothing I could do about it.

  A group of the villagers, including Mercy and Temperance, stood by in front of Mercy’s home. It was time for me to leave.

  I knew I wasn’t going to go to the police. This village had been around for a hundred-plus years. They knew how to deal with the authorities. Even if I believed the cops had a chance of saving Carter and his sister, I didn’t want to waste time.

  Part of me wanted to launch myself at them, to break faces and make them regret bringing me into their fold. But I didn’t. It wasn’t just the fact they had hostages. If Mercy believed I was the only one to stop Chronos, then I wanted to do it. Not just to save the city from his rampage but to be the one who took him out. There was a new sense of strength coursing through me. If the tea and a snack could do that, what could more of their food do for me? Between that and the locket I had the best chance ever of stopping Chronos. Even without a weapon I dared hope that I might beat him.

  Mercy was going to regret giving me the edge I had been praying for.

  The road out of Dogwood remained dark, as sunrise was still an hour or two away.

  Mercy wanted me to bring her boy home. And if I managed to do that, what would follow? He would get better and the world would go back to square one, with the Star Son saving some and claiming his share of blood whenever the itch arose. Mercy and her brethren weren’t ready to give up on their secret. What were another five victims in their grand scheme? They would put me, Carter, his sister, Pike, and her goon down as soon as they had what they wanted.

  I wasn’t sure what to expect as I stepped into the air, but my feet left the ground. My silent audience watched as I lifted into the air.

  “If you harm any of my friends, I’ll come back here and kill you,” I said.

  “Your friends are safe,” Mercy said. “Now go.”

  I floated upward long enough to survey the town and to listen for any clues as to where Carter might be, but I heard nothing. The early morning was coming alive with birdsong. The smell of woodsmoke permeated the air. With a thought I began to move higher and higher, until the earth was far below me and I was heading into the clouds.

  Chapter Thirty

  I kept going faster and faster until the bracing wind whipping my face made it hard to see. Chronos flew at speeds in excess of 300 miles per hour. I didn’t know how he managed and still was able to navigate. Goggles or a helmet would have helped. Plus the chill in the air was making me shiver.

  As I soared, the sun began to rise. A mist hung over the mountains to the east. The cascading light bloomed upwards in an array of colors that made me pause, if just for a moment. Wisps of vapor lingered as I exhaled. I checked my pockets. Everythi
ng was still there, nicely buttoned up. If I was going to fly more often, I would definitely need a backpack.

  I put it into gear and went as fast as I could while still having some idea of where I was. I saw birds and planes crisscrossing the sky. I almost lost myself in the rush of hurtling over the towns below. This had never been my fantasy, but it certainly was a thrill.

  With the sun at my left, I spotted a highway that headed south and followed it. Soon I was crossing into Massachusetts. As I had time to think, doubts and worries set in.

  Would I even find Chronos where I had left him? I hadn’t checked the news. Was there any reason to believe he would stay in one place? And when I did find him, how exactly was I going to attack him? I had no gauge for my own strength. Perhaps all I was feeling was the buzz from Mercy’s tea. Dueling Chronos head-on was a recipe for suicide.

  Unintentionally, I had flown lower to the ground.

  I buzzed a parking lot where a dozen or more men and women were setting up what looked like a midweek farmers market. Trucks were loaded with crates of produce and canopy tents were being assembled. Then they saw me. People pointed. Some waved. To add to my worries, I might have been flying low enough to be filmed or photographed. Chronos was the exception as far as heroes not wearing a mask. The need for anonymity was obvious enough. Besides paparazzi and fans, there were always other crazies looking for a fight.

  I once again soared higher, until the bite in the air reminded me that going numb might result in my falling a couple thousand feet to the ground.

  Connecticut was next. The well-manicured highway flowing with sparse early morning traffic continued leading me to my city. Chronos’s city. One of us or both of us would be leaving it before this was over.

  Guilt over Carter wormed its way around my insides. If only I had robbed him of his credit card information and moved on, he would be a little poorer but alive. And now his sister was involved. This too was Chronos’s fault, but for the next hour I made it mine.

  I mulled over my meager assets. My allies were hostages. A direct fight would result in my death. Mercy had given me her scarf and the more I thought about it, I realized it was my only option. With no weapon, I would have to talk to the mad god I had sworn to kill.

  From my altitude the city appeared at peace. Then I saw white plumes of smoke rising from downtown. I slowed myself but experienced a moment of panic. The streets seemed suddenly far away as I cruised above the rooftops. I focused on the cars and pedestrians below me. I was overthinking it. Big mistake. My arms waved about as I went end over end and tumbled downward.

  My mind went blank as to what to do. Closing my eyes just made it worse as I kept spinning. So I opened them and spread my arms and legs wide. Let out a breath. The air was a medium I could control, so I let my fingertips drag me to a stop. This meant ignoring the fact that if the ground had been closer, I would be street pizza. My panic ebbed slowly. I hung there and tried to calm myself. Then I descended to a roof lined with drying laundry hanging on clotheslines.

  I touched down on the brick structure, hoping to find an entry to the stairwell.

  Only when I was down did I realize how hard my heart was hammering and that I was sheathed in sweat. I was dizzy. Hungry. My stomach complained. Flying, much like any other exertion, needed fuel, and I had been at it for a couple of hours. It made sense, even though I didn’t ever remember Chronos stopping to grab a bite during his rounds. Maybe he carbed up before each outing.

  I hated stopping.

  With each minute that ticked by, there was a chance Chronos would hurt somebody. Seeing the rising smoke let me know the situation was ongoing. But food first. I took one of the muffins out of my pocket and shoved it into my mouth. It was like chewing on sawdust. Did Mercy not realize there was such a thing as sugar? A small cooler sat tucked under a bench near a raised planter box replete with tomato plants. The lid of the cooler had No Tocar written on it in black marker. I opened it. Inside I found a few cans of beer and helped myself to one. The warm beer that morning was one of the best things I had ever tasted. As I opened a second can and took a swallow, someone came up to the roof through the door.

  A young Latina in a stained yellow dress froze when she spotted me. I saluted her with the can and finished it. My head and stomach felt like it was settling down. I ate another half of a muffin but thought it a good idea to ration it out. If the food was the only thing keeping me from getting sick, I couldn’t eat it all in one go.

  The girl just stared, her dark brown eyes taking in everything I did.

  “Thank your papi for me,” I said. I took out a few crumpled dollar bills and placed them in the cooler before closing it back up. It was time to fly. Taking to the air with no trouble, I again felt my excitement grow. I waved at the girl as I ascended and hoped she wouldn’t get into trouble by trying to explain what she had seen. It wasn’t every day a flying gringa landed on your roof and had a beer.

  I put the pedal down, pushing through the air as fast as I could to make up time. I didn’t even feel the edge of a buzz from the beer, but I started to think I could actually pull this off. As before, no aircraft flew above the city. Soaring higher, I scanned the tops of the buildings as I made my way over uptown Manhattan. A large crowd appeared to have gathered in Central Park. A few fingers pointed in my direction as I passed. The streets remained jammed with traffic and nothing was moving. I quickly realized many of the cars were abandoned, even though people still milled about in the streets. Blue flickering lights from police vehicles were visible here and there, but even New York cops couldn’t clear up the mess.

  The action was all on the waterfront. The smoke rose from a few burning vehicles and the Staten Island Ferry Terminal. One wrecked car smoldered nearby on the approach to the Brooklyn Bridge. Dozens of vehicles had collided with one another. A blue BMW was standing straight up on its front end as if it had been dropped on top of the other cars. One upside-down vehicle was a police cruiser.

  Over a hundred cops, some wearing assault gear, were clustered near the streets on the Manhattan side of the bridge. They had cordoned off a section of South Street along the East River. I descended towards them. The notion that I needed a mask to protect my identity went by the wayside. Near a row of ambulances, a few paramedics were working on injured people lying on collapsed gurneys. More than a few civilians were helping out.

  Then some of the police officers saw me approach. Rifles and pistols pointed my way. Most of the cops looked nervous and tired. I could smell their fear.

  “Stop there!” one cop ordered, a Glock in his hands. “Come no closer!”

  I paused in midair a few feet above the ground. My hair was a tangled mess around my face.

  From the shadows of a larger emergency service vehicle a group of officers headed my way. Among them were two costumed heroes. One was an older guy wearing a caped outfit that was a greenish yellow. He was portly and large, with a silver headpiece that looked like an upside-down horseshoe resting on his head. Loremaster, a mentalist. He had been on the news from time to time. The police sometimes called him in as a hostage negotiator and someone who could successfully talk jumpers down from high places.

  The second man looked like a biker, clad in brown leather with dark riding goggles and a pair of fighting sticks strapped to his back. He was the Jersey City brawler named Shieldbreaker. From the stories I had read, he was indestructible. He could regenerate and was also quite strong. A bit of a vigilante too. The cops had recently been hunting him after he violently beat down some arms-smuggling gang members. At the moment it looked like all was forgiven between him and the police.

  I had studied both heroes and knew neither man was a match for Chronos.

  “Put her down right there,” the cop barked.

  It was my most graceful landing ever. I lit down on the sidewalk as gently as a falling leaf. But as the police closed in and the two heroes in their showy uniforms approached, I felt underdressed.

  Before I could say anyt
hing the cop was shouting, “Hands where I can see them. Get down to the ground.”

  Another officer moved from behind to take me down. I spun and pushed the cop away. Two others closed in, their batons drawn. I stepped back as one tried to thump me but a circle of police hemmed me in. One cop raised his Taser and fired. It was as if he was moving in slow motion. Evading the twin darts that popped from the front of his weapon was easy. They snaked past me and miraculously missed everyone, stretching to the limits of their wires and falling loose to the ground. But my impulse to duck and dodge was overwhelming as I now had threats from all sides. Someone was going to fire their service pistol at me and get someone killed.

  “Stop,” Loremaster said in a loud, commanding voice. “Be calm. Be still.”

  The cops stopped trying to hit me. Everyone paused to look at him. I raised my palms to show I wasn’t armed and wasn’t trying to hurt anyone.

  “Get them to back off,” I said. “I’m here to help.”

  “We don’t know you,” Shieldbreaker said.

  “That’s because we haven’t met. I’m kind of new here. But I know Chronos and how to stop him.”

  Loremaster moved through the ring of officers, his hands touching them on the shoulders, his voice like warm milk. “Officers, she’s on our side. She won’t hurt us, and we won’t hurt her. Thank you.”

  The officers complied and gave us some space.

  Shieldbreaker gave me a hard look. Even under his simple black mask, his caramel-colored eyes looked tired and he sported a thick five o’clock shadow. He spat the shell of a sunflower seed onto the sidewalk.

  “Besides fly, what can you do?” he asked.

  “Introductions first,” Loremaster said. “I’m Paul. This is Jeremy.”