by P J Gilbers
I heard myself screaming.
“Mom!” I screamed, terrified.
Welsh dragged me through the hole in the kitchen wall. I watched the floor collapse.
A giant explosion hit.
He threw me over his shoulder smacking my face into the brick wall. We were down in seconds. I heard shouts, gunfire, and then we were in a truck. With lots of packages.
He set me down. Gently. And dabbed at the blood on my face with the corner of his shirt.
Eddie tore at my clothes scratching me.
“Stop! What are you doing?”
“Looking for your tracker.”
I reached under my breast and handed him the metallic transmitter. Grinning he took a rubber ball out of his pocket, attached the transmitter to it, and threw the ball out the window. It bounced into heavy traffic. The three of them laughed.
“Did you see that shit, man?” Eddie asked. “You really did it, Bobbie boy! Damn fine job.”
“You still got that FBI’s name?” Oscar asked.
Robert was laughing uncontrollably.
“Yeah, Dennington. She’s in charge, but they’re probably going to call in a negotiator,” Robert said. I didn’t understand why they had Dennington’s card.
The world had become surrealistic to me. Here was the man I had been terrified of for almost two years looking like one of the Three Stooges.
Eddie smiled at me and licked his lips.
“Spread those legs, angel,” he laughed, poking at my thighs. “Or should I call you Sandra?”
Robert threw a box at him.
“Whatever you touch her with I’ll cut off. Slowly. And feed it to you with ketchup.”
This was the Robert I knew.
Eddie looked away.
They pulled into a grocery store parking lot.
“Get out,” Robert grabbed me and pulled me out the side. Oscar had a van open already. It said “Simmon’s Plumbing” on the side. He helped me in.
“They still following us?” Eddie asked.
“Just that black cop. He’s on us. Don’t see the FBI pricks. No Dennington.”
Silverman is coming, I thought. I wish he’d get away. ‘Don’t want him hurt. And then I realized how it was odd that Dennington's name came up...
Oscar drove six more blocks. I counted. I’m not sure why.
And then he turned left behind a vacant furniture store. He pushed the garage door opener and the large door cranked up.
Once we were in the warehouse Robert helped me out.
Oscar and Eddie went to get a beer. It was obvious they had been living there and that they had enough weaponry to blast the entire Los Angeles police force.
Robert put his gun down.
He offered his hand.
I walked to him.
“At last,” I said. “At last we are together.” The words I’d rehearsed for so long came out sounding human.
I was surprised.
“I am your Lilith. Your warrior queen. The mother of your son.”
He kissed me and the taste of his yellowed teeth nearly made my gag.
I slowly removed his knife from its sheath. He grabbed it angrily.
I shook my head and took my shirt off.
His eyes were wide as he stared at the scars.
“Touch it, my lord,” I said, and guided his hand over my belly.
He was panting. I tried not to think, tried to only plan my next move, when I could strike.
He kissed the scar and pulled my pants down, feeling me, playing.
I jerked every time he touched me but he didn’t seem to notice.
I took his hand, now holding his knife, and sliced myself down the center of the pentagram. I winced but made no sound.
He gasped when he saw the blood. I ran my left hand through the blood.
“Come to me,” I whispered and slunk to the floor.
He knelt down on top of me, pulling his pants down.
Suddenly the fear left me and I realized the future didn’t matter, that I just had something I had to do.
I put my bloody finger in his mouth. He sucked, his eyes closed.
I sat half-way up, reached into my boot, pulled out my knife, and struck his neck. And then I pushed further.
Blood gurgled out as he crumpled to the ground.
His alive eyes held mine. He was desperate, so frightened. In that instant I felt all of his pain, the agony of his tortured life. And I was engulfed in sorrow.
“It’s okay,” I whispered, feeling like I was holding a puppy who’d been hit by a semi. “Lilith loves you.”
His eyes died, pulling me down into the depths of his hell. I had killed him. It was over, finally over.
The plate glass window shattered and Silverman jumped through.
Eddie was screaming, running towards me.
He fired just as Silverman shot him.
I screamed, the power of the hit was a shock.
Oscar dropped to the floor, his hands above his head.
I felt another hit, this one taking my breath and I fell to the floor. It didn’t make sense. Eddie was down.
Then Silverman was holding me.
“Princess, come on now. You hang in there with me.”
I wasn’t afraid. Peaceful really.
The wound was bad. I knew. The struggle was finally over. Blood bubbled out of my chest like a little fountain. He pressed it with his hand.
I smiled at him.
“Thank you. Tell my sweet Jack I…”
…and I died.
I saw Fritz and Roger and Jack running in the back door. I was so happy they were okay. I lifted higher, the euphoria stronger.
I watched Dennington walk out to Fritz and Roger and Jack. It was like watching a movie. It was fascinating. I worried about the blood on Silverman’s nice suit. What would his wife say?
“She’s dead. Eddie shot her. She killed Robert Welsh. They’re doing CPR on her,” Dennington was almost laughing and I knew where the second bullet had come from.
She said to Fritz, “Don’t get your hopes up, cowboy,” and smiled.
Fritz slapped her. Two agents were on him, handcuffing him.
“Let him go,” she told them rubbing her jaw. “He’s distraught.”
The three of them stared into the crowd, looking for me.
“There she is,” Roger pointed to the ambulance. I saw my body on a stretcher and they were still doing CPR. I was covered in blood, my chest bare. They closed the doors and were off. Eddie was taken away in another ambulance and Robert had a blanket over him.
Jack took Fritz’ gun away from him and stomped over to the body. He pulled the blanket off, stared at Robert’s face, and fired into Welsh’ silent chest.
“I hope you felt that, you goddamn son of a bitch!”
Silverman, drenched with my blood, took the gun away from him.
“Go to the hospital, Jack. Say some prayers if you got ‘em. It’s over here. Go.”
He walked away.
I saw my body and the paramedics working on me. I saw Dennington in the background.
Slowly at first and then at a tremendous speed I moved into a white light. Amazingly I felt no more pain but complete, excited peace.
My mother was before me and I wept to see her. She was glowing, smiling, tears in her dark sweet eyes.
“It is not time,” she said and instantly I was back.
George sat in the office of the powerful Senator Ward.
The Senator was flirting with an aid at the door. He winked and closed it, then poured himself a drink.
"I see you helped yourself."
"Glen Levit. How could I not?"
Red Ward was nearing forty-five. He was no longer the boy wonder and he knew his time in Washington was running out.
"Hear you got the Governor's endorsement."
Red nodded. "Finally. Bastard. He's on the road to the White House, for sure."
George nodded.
"So what's this shit about? Why are you ba
ck here?"
George put a thumb drive on his desk.
"I have it all. Testimonies of what happens. What happened. And, more importantly, where sixty-two percent of that money is going. The wonderful schools and roads and hospitals. Made of crap, aren't they? Next earthquake they'll tumble. I even managed to get your Hong Kong account numbers. Nearly impossible, right?"
George laughed.
"If this checks out, what do u want?"
"One mil to start. And your help to bring a man to justice. The man responsible for the death of the woman I loved. Frank McMorris."
Red's eyebrow went up.
"Prague. I've been doing a little spy work of my own since we talked last."
George began to rub his fingers together.
"Prague."
"Why not just remove him?"
"The great Frank McMorris? No...I wanted him paraded through the streets. Then...I'll kill everyone he cares about in this world. But I'll let him live a good, long, miserable life."
The Senator glared at him. He sighed.
"Where do you want the money?"
Tuesday
“Sam,” he whispered. “It’s Jack, sweetheart. You’re going to be okay.”
I felt his hand. I knew it was Jack. I tried to squeeze it but I wasn’t sure I moved.
“’Saw my mother,” I tried to say.
I realized I had a tube in my throat.
“You’re ice cold.” He pulled the blankets over me. “’Wish I could climb in there and hold you.”
I opened my eyes. It seemed like a monumental amount of work.
The pain hit like a car door smashing your hand.
I moaned desperately.
He took my hand and held it, holding it to his chest, kissing it.
I wanted to tell him I loved him.
“Sam, relax. You have to rest. You’ll be better soon.”
Another blast of burning pain. I moaned again.
The nurse came in and put an injection into my IV.
He smoothed my hair and I drifted into a stuporous limbo.
“I love you so much,” he wept. “Stay here with me, stay with me, stay with me…Please God, let her stay with me.”
And I knew that I would.
Even though Frank was under cover he took the call. He was surprised at the number.
"Where are you?" his brother asked.
"What's wrong?"
"Can't a brother ask his brother to a little dinner party?"
"Howard, you never call me. What the fuck is the problem?"
"Where are you?"
"San Diego."
"I'm fixing a nice pot roast on Sunday."
Frank paced, heading outside the tech company.
"What's going on, Howard? You're in trouble."
"I was planning on inviting a few friends. I need a few friends, Frank. One I'd like you to look up because I've lost his number is Detective Hershal Silverman. I hear he's great at pot roast. He's shy, Frank. Will take a special invitation."
"I understand. He's the one with the Hollywood star's wife. Saved her life..."
"He is a very social man, Frank. He has lots of friends."
"Yes. I noticed that on the press conferences. I'll take care of it. Sunday."
"And Frank, Mom and Dad, they're not invited."
Frank rubbed his forehead. Something bad was happening. Something too bad.
"Of course. Dad's not fond of pot roast."
"That's right."
"Should I bring anything? You love those olives of mine."
"No. Not a thing. Just you."
He hung up, walked back into the building to an empty office, and searched for Silverman, Hershal.
He punched in the number.
"Now if I only knew what the fuck I was inviting him to...Detective Silverman...you don't know me but I would like a few minutes of your time..perhaps this Sunday....I'm Leonard Miller...."
Thursday
Fritz was flirting with Tess, my nurse, as usual. Tess was making the final preparations so that I could finally go home. It had been three days in the ICU and five days on the surgical floor. Tess had agreed to work private duty for me and no one was more pleased than Fritz.
It took us an hour to get checked out, get the final doctor orders, and pick up all of my prescriptions.
The radio reported that Senator Ward's aid, a woman named Cindy Wolff, had been killed when her brakes failed in the Sequoia National Park.
"Damn," Jack said. "I've met her, several times. Damn. That's a shame."
"This tragedy is beyond understanding. Such a beautiful spirit, a loving spirit. She will be missed. Our deepest sympathies...."
Senator Ward finished the press conference. William Finley walked with him back to his office.
"That went well," William's voice was calm, quiet, cautious. "I love it when problems are resolved."
"So unnecessary..if she'd only been reasonable. But, always pays to hire the best," the Senator smiled.
William nodded.
At last we drove up the curved driveway and I was home.
Sarah, and Roger had decorated with balloons and flowers. I walked into the den, my new bedroom, and my legs were shaking by the time I made it. David sent a hilarious singing telegram.
“Time to rest,” Tess demanded. “Everybody give her one more hug and it’s off to nap time.”
“I’m home,” I kept whispering to Jack.
“You don’t know how good it is to hear you call this place home. Finally, I have my Sam home.” He kissed me and Tess ordered him out of the room.
Later Jack and I ate dinner together by the koi pond.
“Remember when we first ate out here together?” he smiled. “You were unbelievably hungry.”
“That seems like a life time ago.”
“I thought I’d stay down here with you tonight.”
“Where’s Tess going to sleep?”
“The green room upstairs.”
“But my bed is so narrow…”
“I’ll manage. Maybe tomorrow we can try going upstairs.”
After dinner we walked around the grounds watching the sun journey down the horizon in paths of brilliant golds and purples.
For so long I had been afraid of the sun setting and the dark. But now it was comforting.
“Tired,” I muttered and leaned on Jack’s shoulder.
He walked me to my bed, helped me undress, and lay me down. We watched The Book of Eli.
A gun fight blasted across the screen and I shut my eyes. I could feel the bullets hit again and I saw Welsh’s dying, frightened eyes.
“’Want you,” he said in his deep, rumbled voice.
“’Want you, too. Just don’t know if I can.”
“Tell me if anything hurts.”
Arnie's aunt handed him the envelope full of cash.
"You headin' out tomorrow?"
"Yes."
"Got a map?'
"Yes."
"You never was too bright. Better let Luther help you with it. You know where she is?"
He scowled at her while he counted the cash.
"Yeah. The whole world knows where the fuck she is."
"Sure am glad I had my boys heavily insured, aren't you, Poppa?"
Luther grunted.
"Yeah," she laughed. "Bobby finally did somethin' right. Got hisself killt. Hot damn. Now you got it all down?"
"Yes, Aunt Mae. Got it down."
She slapped him.
"Don't be disrespectful. I raised you to be respectful you little bastard. Luther..."
The old man stood up, unbuckling his belt.
Arnie stood, then quickly walked out the door.
We made love tenderly, exploring as if we were new lovers, despite the narrow bed. He kissed my wounds and finally entered me.
I moaned scaring him.
“Hurt?”
“No, so wonderful. Makes me feel alive again. I love you so much.”
“I thought I’d lost y
ou,” tears slowly ran down his cheeks. “Don’t you ever leave me again. Never ever…”
At last there were no more tubes, no more monitors, just the warmth and comfort of Jack. I felt like the richest, luckiest human on the planet. I slept in peace, home at last.
Biggs stood in the middle of the rubble. A small grocery store that now was a crime scene. The bodies were strewn about, none complete. Matching body parts would be easy, though. Only one baby. Only one little girl. Only one pregnant woman. Only one incinerated man.
He took his phone out.
"Emmett, we got nothing. They'll do their thing but I guarantee you nothing will be found...uh huh...homeland...how...oh, I see."
He closed his phone and smiled.
"Listen up! I just got word, this is Homeland's jurisdiction right now. Thank you for your time. You are no longer needed."
The fire chief stormed over to him.
"By who's authority?"
"The Mayor. The Governor. And mine, Randolph. Gotta problem with that? I know you hate to call Eugene this late at night."
He smiled and jiggled the coins in his pocket.
A Month Passed
I had just gotten off the phone with Silverman. He'd been pushing the FBI on filing charges against Dennington but it was going nowhere. I knew and he knew the answer. Proving it was another matter. The Chief of Police had mysteriously lost all of the scene evidence and the FBI had no knowledge... Silverman was always agitated when he called.
I had distanced myself from it. Made peace with it. It was over.
The party had started about an hour ago, and, as usual, Jack was missing. He finally wandered in, hot, sweaty, smelling like a goat. He gave me a kiss then went upstairs to get a shower.
He came back wearing old jeans and a tee shirt, towel drying his hair.
“What’s wrong?” Jack asked.
“Last night? ‘Could’ve called.”
“Sorry. I had to go over some scenes. They were crap.”
“You were late today but the crew has been assembling for the party. How could they be here and you were working?”
“Finishing up…don’t be mad. It’s a party. And you look fantastic. You’re getting some color back in your cheeks.”