by Dancer, Jack
“Wait. Let me go down and see if I can't head Drusilla off,” Nanette says.
“What do you mean, head her off'? They have the ticket, and there's no way she's going anywhere without that,” I say.
“What I mean is, I'll make a distraction, do something for you two to get out of here. I'll tell her you and Monica already escaped the room, and probably out of the castle by now. She's not going to waste time looking for you two. She'll want to take the ticket and run, now, while she can.”
“And what about you?” I ask.
“She has no reason to hurt me. She'll let me go, and I'll meet you two back at the apartment in the El Raval.”
“Are you sure that's what you want to do, Nanette?” asks Monica. “Are you certain she won't harm you?”
“Sure, I'm sure. What's there for her to gain harming me?” Nanette says then turning to me, "are you going to let her have the ticket, Tucker?"
“Don't worry about that part. I've got it covered,” I say and notice Monica giving me a curious look. “Okay. Take off now, and we'll see you back at the apartment. If there's any trouble just remember that people will be showing up here by three o'clock. Use that distraction to hide yourself somewhere.” I reach over and take her into my arms and give her a kiss on both cheeks, French style.
“Don't make me cry, Tucker Blue,” she says.
“Get out of here and get back to us safely; you hear? I'm counting on it.”
“I am too, Nanette,” Monica says giving her a big hug. "Please don't take any chances.”
Nanette leaves the room and heads downstairs.
“Let's get out of here, Tucker,” Monica says.
“Wait a minute. I want to see that nothing happens to her first and besides, we're not leaving without the ticket,” I say and crawl over to the windowsill and peek over. The IndyCat is coming through the gates. Drusilla and Pau come out of a door, both holding pistols, then, tuck them quickly away into their waistbands at the small of their backs.
“What a way to welcome your sons home, huh? No wonder kids today are so screwed up. Had a bad day at school only to come home to Ma Barker,” I say.
Monica taps me on the shoulder. "Hey, Tucker, let's get out of here while the gettin's good, huh?” she pleads.
“What're you talking about? Five minutes ago, you wanted the ticket. You were ready to kill Drusilla for it. Now you don't want the ticket?”
“I want you, Tucker. Screw the ticket. We don't need it. Let 'em kill each other over it. C'mon, let's get out of here.”
"Wait a minute. I want to make sure Nanette's okay first."
"I'm not waiting, Tucker, Goddammit . . ."
"Shush!"
Nanette walks out the same door startling both Drusilla and Pau. Both reach for their pistols but don't pull 'em when they see that it's Nanette.
"They've broken out, Drusilla. They're gone. Probably, out of the castle by now.”
“How did that happen?” Drusilla asks, "Never mind. Why didn't you leave with them?”
“I was never with them Drusilla,” Nanette says.
When the car comes to a halt, both boys are leaning into each other saying something before getting out.
"If those boys come out armed this is going to be the weirdest family reunion ever," I say. "I've gotta have a video of this. No one'll ever believe it." I pull out my iPhone, bring up the camera, and start shooting out the corner of the window.
"What the hell're you doing, Tucker? Are you crazy? Let's get out of here now," Monica says.
"Just hold on a minute. I'm not leaving until I see what happens here. Do you want this ticket or not?"
"No, I don't want it. I want to get out of here and now, Goddammit."
What the hell's gotten into her? Why's she suddenly so anxious to leave without the friggin’ ticket?
"Wait, look at these guys," I say motioning her over. She comes and peeks out the window.
"Holy shit," she whispers, "their faces are still a mess."
"Yeah. Just hope Drusilla doesn't kill 'em for it."
"What?"
Both boys come out of the car and walk up to Drusilla falling to their knees in front of her and start begging. "Mama, Mama."
Tiber hands over a piece of paper and Drusilla reads it.
She lets it fall to the ground.
"Uh oh. Must not be the ticket. What the hell?" I say.
BLAM, BLAM. She shoots both boys, and they fall over dead.
"AAAAIIIIEEEEE," screams Pau.
"AAAAIIIIEEEEE," and Nanette.
"AAAAIIIIEEEEE," then Monica.
I pull Monica to the floor. "Shut the hell up! We've gotta get outta here, NOW.” And just as I start crawling toward the door pulling Monica along, Drusilla hollers out.
“Tucker Blue. Stop where you are or Nanette dies.”
I stop.
“Come to the window, Tucker Blue, NOW,” Drusilla yells.
I do, and when I peek over the sill, she has Nanette by the hair with one hand and a pistol in the other pointed at her head. She says something mean to Pau that I can't hear and follows it with a kick toward her, and Pau scurries back through the door they came out of.
She turns back to my window. "Come down here, Tucker Blue, you and Señora Reyes, now, or I will end this woman's life. You know I will; you've already seen.”
“She killed 'em, Tucker; she killed 'em, her own sons,” Monica says hysterically, "We can't go down there; she'll kill us for sure.”
“What's the matter Drusilla? They didn't have the ticket so you killed 'em? Is that it? You think we're coming down there after seeing what you just did to your own sons? Why'd you do that?"
"I've got spares, Mister Blue."
"What? You're not just crazy Drusilla, you're stupid if you think we're coming down there just so you can shoot us. No fucking way.”
I look over to the bed and notice the Wham-O lying there. Funny, Nanette must have left it. There's a handful of red paintballs and a few ball bearings lying beside it too. I grab up the Wham-O and a red paintball, load and walk to the window with the Wham-O cocked. Drusilla's looking up this way, and before she knows it, I fire away.
SPLAT, and Nanette's forehead bursts bright red. She drops out of Drusilla's hand, crumpling to the ground. Drusilla swings her pistol toward me. BLAM, BLAM, BLAM, misses.
“Backup bitch,” Pau screams from behind me, standing inside the doorway that Monica had just opened to run out of. Before I can turn around . . .
BLAM, and my arm's slammed like a roundhouse from a baseball bat, only it was a bullet from Pau's 32.
“Oops, sorry, Tucker. It was an accident. I didn't mean it, really,” Pau says covering her mouth with her free hand and walking toward me.
“JULIA!” Pau freezes.
“Yes, Mother?” Pau says.
“Bring those two down here, Julia. NOW.”
“Yes, Mother.” Pau swings her pistol toward Monica and stepping back, swings it back at me and says, "Okay, you two, start walking.”
“Jesus, Pau, why'd you have to shoot me? It hurts like a son-of-a-bitch,” I say grabbing my wounded arm with my other hand, "and look, I'm bleeding like a stuck pig.”
“I'm sorry, Tucker, really; I am. I didn't mean to . . ." she pauses, then, "fuck you, Blue. Get moving or Mother'll shoot you, and she won't miss.”
When we come to the door to the courtyard, Monica hesitates. "I'm not going out there. She's just going to shoot us.”
“Open the door, Monica,” Pau orders.
“Fuck you, Pau. I won't. You go out there first. If she doesn't shoot you, then Tucker, and I'll come.”
“No, fuck you, Monica. I'm not going out there first; you go.”
“No way I'm going . . .”
“Wait, wait, you two,” I say, "For crying out loud, let me say something to her." I step forward and crack open the door and yell out, "Hey, Drusilla. No one wants to come out there with you. Everyone's afraid you'll shoot. Even Pau won't come.”
&
nbsp; “That's not true Mama,” Pau yells out shaking all over. "Why'd you say that? You wanna get me in trouble?”
“JULIA! Come out here at once young lady. No one's going to shoot anyone.”
“Promise?” Pau yells back.
“Yes, I promise honey. Just bring those two out here and help me with your sister, please. They've hurt your sister.”
“Nanette!” Pau screams, pushing us through the door. A wobbly Nanette is getting to her feet. Her hand over her forehead. When she removes it and sees the red covering her hand, she screams. Pau screams too and runs over to Nanette dropping her pistol to the ground.
“Don't even think it, Mister Blue,” Drusilla warns, her pistol following me. "Turn around and march yourselves right back inside, back to the room I had left you in. Julia, pick up your gun and help Nanette along.”
Oh Christ, I'm thinking, we really are dead now. She's going to kill us for sure. Nanette's our only chance.
"I told you she'd come back and kill us, Tucker. Why didn't you listen to me?" Monica says.
"I'm sorry, I should have," I say.
Back in the tile room, she orders us to take chairs. "Julia, get another chair for Nanette.” Pau walks across the room and returns with a straight-back chair.
“Tie them to the chairs, Julia,” Drusilla orders. Once she does. I pull on the nylon zip ties once again to check if Pau might've gotten it backwards. My right arm, no but my left arm . . . holy shit.
"Nanette too?" asks Pau.
"No, not Nanette. She's not with them. She only pretended to be with them. Right Nanette?" Drusilla says walking to a medicine cabinet on the far wall and extracting a kit. She removes two syringes and a small bottle and begins filling the syringes. She squirts out a little from each syringe and walks back over.
"Right Nanette?" she repeats. Groggy, Nanette lifts her head and nods once but it's hard to tell if she was answering Drusilla or just nodding. When Nanette looks over to me and her eyes brighten I can see it's a ruse.
Come on, Nanette. You better have something up your sleeve to turn this situation around because I don't, I'm thinking.
"Ouch," I hear from Monica and when I look over Drusilla is standing over her with a syringe pressed into her neck.
"You're a woman of your word princess," Drusilla says in Monica's ear as her head drops to her shoulders.
"What are you doing?" I yell.
"Treating her to a Kevorkian cocktail, Mr. Blue. Just as you're about to enjoy. Nighty, night," she says as she stabs me in the neck with the other syringe. Just then I see Nanette suddenly rise from her seat and Pau's pistol rise. BLAM and Nanette's head blows apart with bone and scalp and brain matter thrown all over the tiled walls and floor. Pau drops the pistol, screams and I jump up pulling my left arm free and grab Pau by the neck pulling her up to within inches of my face. I am so pissed I squeeze my grip around her windpipe until her eyes bulge and I can feel her throat crush in my hand.
"MISTER BLUE!" Drusilla screams. "Drop her Mister Blue, NOW!" I do and just as I turn I see the pistol she has pointed at me; I take a step toward her. CLICK. Nothing, and my whole body falls out from under me like somebody pulled the rug. Never did feel the tile floor slamming against my face. But I can see. Monica's face is laying so close to mine I can almost kiss her.
Jesus Christ, she's dead.
She must be. She's lying right there in front of me, so close. And her eyes. Black holes, empty. Oh, fuck, she's dead; she's really dead.
What's this? Can't move. Nothing. Not a twitch. Eyes dry, blink, can't. Can't move. Holy shit. I'm trapped, inside of me.
Holy shit, I must be dead too.
sixty-eight
14:45 Hours, Friday, 12 September.
Castello Llivia.
Funny thing is; I can hear everything. I can hear Drusilla yelling "fuck" as she runs up to Pau laying on the floor, then turning her over and pulling her by the arms across the floor into an adjoining room.
“Put these clothes on, Julia,” Drusilla orders. “Shut up and put them on if you want to live."
“Now, get on the table and into the bag, Julia. Good girl, now I'm going to put something over your face so keep your eyes closed and don't move or say a word. I'm going to give you a shot and you'll go to sleep just like when you were a little girl. I'm going to do the same for me and when we wake up, we'll be out of here and on our way to safety. Don't worry my little sweet potato, everything's going to be all right; mother will take care of you.”
Then nothing.
sixty-nine
14:45 Hours, Friday, 12 September.
Castello Llivia.
The thump, thump, thumping of helicopter blades is getting louder. Someone's yelling over a loudspeaker, "Drusilla Libica; this is the police. We are entering the castle Llivia compound with air and ground personnel. Do not attempt to resist. The castle is surrounded. Come out with no weapons and your hands on your head. Order your men to lay down their weapons and come into the castle courtyard.”
As the thump, thump, thumping of the helicopter blades fade; a siren yips, blues and reds burst off the porcelain tile walls. The door to the room is thrown open, slamming against the tile wall and boots enter.
“That's them on the floor. Ay Caramba! There is a woman on the floor dressed . . . Ay caramba! She is . . . Déu meu! She has been shot in the head. Santa Mare de Déu. Half her head is missing! The other two . . . I’ll see if they're alive. You men check the adjoining room. Be careful. These people are armed,” a voice says.
A boot sprouting from a leg of camo appears at eye level, and man's face leans down, "Señor Blue, are you alive?”
Holy shit. It can't be. Impossible. It's the face of the man who crashed through the train compartment door and fell on Monica. It can't be. He's dead. Paulo. Oh, my God I must be dead because the dead are here, now, around me, talking to me. I try to answer but . . . nothing. I can't move even a muscle to tell him I'm dead too.
He moves over to Monica, shakes her. No response. He shines a flashlight into her eyes then turns and shines it into my eyes. He rolls me over onto my back and runs his hands up and down and over my body. He then turns to Monica, rolls her over and does the same body check.
He yells out, "I can't tell if they're dead or not. The man has been shot in the arm. It is minor. The woman shows no wounds. I think they may be alive and have been drugged with the NMBA, just as I was.”
NMBA? What the fuck?
“Get a medic in here to patch the man’s arm,” Paulo yells.
A scream comes from the other room, "Santa Mare de Déu, és les dues noies que falten!” (Holy mother of God, it's the two missing girls!) "Oh, Déu meu, què tens fer-los?” (Oh, my God what have they done to them?) "Ells han tallat els rostres!” (They have cut off their faces!)
What are they saying?
Paulo jumps to his feet and runs into the other room, "Ah, Jesús ens ajuden.” (Oh, Jesus help us.) I can see him partially through the open door. He pulls a walkie-talkie from a holster on his belt and yells into it, "Enviar a quatre metges amb dues lliteres. Tenim baixes.” (Send in four medics with two stretchers. We have casualties.)
More men are coming through the door, this time pushing gurneys. A lot of talking is going on, some in English, some in Catalan, some in French. They're saying these are the two missing girls.
"Be careful, do not upset them. Oh, my God, their faces! Where are their faces? Their faces have been skinned off. Oh, my God!”
Then,
"Where are the butchers? We must find the Raven, the bruixa. Take your men, split up, and search every inch of this house of the devil until you find them. Try not to kill them. I want them alive," yells Paulo.
Paulo's face comes back into my view again. "Tucker Blue, I do not think you are dead. I think Drusilla Libica has injected you and your friend, Señora Reyes, with a neuromuscular blocking agent (NMBA) just as she did with me on the train. If she did and you are not dead, then you should be able to hear every word
I'm saying to you, and you can see me, as well. Do not worry. It will wear off, and you will become perfectly normal again. I don't know how long this will take because it depends on how much she injected into you; it may be a little while, or it may be a long while. But no matter my friend, we will catch this Raven, and she will do you, nor Señora Reyes, no further harm; you have my word.
You should also know other authorities are arriving, some you may recognize, others you may not. In the meantime, please lie here and rest. We will have photographers coming to photograph this crime scene along with other criminalists. They must gather all the evidence. We will move you and Señora Reyes just as soon as they have concluded their job.” Paulo's face then disappears from my view.
“Load them onto the gurneys. Zip the bags and cover their faces. No one should see these girls like this. Take them away. Load them into the ambulance waiting outside. Get them out of here and don't let anyone else see them, or we could have a riot on our hands,” Paulo says. "Bring in the other gurney and load the woman's corpse, the one with the head shot. Take her to the medical examiner's office in Perpignan. Tell the ME to perform an autopsy and prepare a report as soon as possible."
“Have any other bodies been found on the premises?” Paulo asks in general. His walkie-talkie bleeps, and he picks it up. "Yes? Oh, my God. How many? Are they all dead? What's that buzzing sound? Wait, who's screaming? Carlos? Carlos? Do you read me Carlos? Shit, something's wrong. Guillem, take three men and find Carlos. He said they found an entire roomful of corpses, the Raven's men I think, all dead. When you find him call me.”
“Tucker, Tucker, are you okay, Tucker? Oh, Christ, is Tucker dead?” yells Captain Pat. "And Monica, is she dead too?”
“Bring two more gurneys down here fast,” yells Paulo into his walkie-talkie. "No, Señor, I do not think they are dead. I think they have been drugged.”
I hear the gurneys coming through the door. I'm being lifted from the floor. I can feel nothing. I'm laid on the gurney. A man's face hovers over me with a stethoscope plugged into his ears.