All the things we should never see, but most certainly did.
We've spent the last couple days eating, sleeping, and walking along the beach among all the beautiful women and older men that should never wear Speedo bikini-trunks . . . ever. We've talked to Billtruck and Hal about everything that happened in Ecuador. He sees it as a success in that we nailed four of the original 23 Evils. And we did save all those kids. Obviously, it's more than disconcerting that we only got four of them.
19 to go.
Billtruck says we'll have gained invaluable knowledge and experience during all of this. Hal is going to adjust his future estimates to include basic psychological indicators and parameters. I tell Hal that I don't think we can accurately assume psychological processes.
He disagrees. Yeah, that's right. Our computers disagrees with me, out loud, probably laughing at the simple-mindedness of humans. He explains that eventually every possible predictor of behavior can be qualified, quantified, and mapped.
“What about the Uncertainty Principle in physics?” I counter as I talk to our computer through my cell phone while the warm water of the Yucatan canal laps up against my ankles. Little foamy, salty bubbles are left on my toes to slowly dissolve and pop.
“Have you been watching Nova in your hotel room, Jack?” Hal asks me, though it's more of an accusation.
Yes , I admit, but it's more of an indignant so what .
“Keep up the good work,” Billtruck says. “Enjoy your vacation, because we've found some disturbing things going on in Eastern Europe. How's your Russian?”
What?!
“When you get back, Jack. Just have fun. We'll see you in a few.”
Click .
I put my cell phone back into the pocket of my board shorts. They're silver and black with the words ' Tapout ' in bold black print across my butt. Ricky says it's like warning evil that we're going to get'em in a choke-hold!
I think it's just bold enough to get my ass kicked on the beach. But Mr. Green assures me that with the amount of spooky looking tattoos I've got, nobody's going to try me, just in case I am some lazy-eyed psycho.
Ricky, Mr. Green, Mr. Blue, and Juan are at the hotel bar getting tanked off of huge tourist drinks filled with umbrellas and fruit and cheap tequila, and those straws that look like pieces of garden hose.
Ms. Josephine is walking behind me, her white linen dress blowing gently in the wind, her stubby little feet leaving these slowly evaporating footprints in the wet beach sand. With each passing wave, a bit more evidence of her past is erased. By the time we get to the next curve in the beach, nobody will know how we even got here.
Our past being erased as quickly as we make it.
In my hand I have the blue envelope that Angela gave me. I kind of want to read it one more time, just in case I read it wrong. But that's just me being a stupid, hopelessly-romantic fool. I've read it 15 times. 20, maybe.
I lift it to my nose, sniffing it one last time for hints of apples and cinnamon vanilla and Angela.
Her shampoo, her skin, her beautiful brown eyes.
But all that's gone, now.
As another wave comes in, I gently toss the envelope so that the current carries it out into the deep abyss. As the paper swells with water, the light blue fibers become dark. The sun setting behind us is a reddish-violet, now. The color of life-force, or just a sunset. The way I'm feeling, it's easy to ascribe some really deep, thought-provoking meaning to otherwise average, every day occurrences. But the sun sets every evening, nothing magical about that.
I watch the envelope float away, trying in vain to come back.
Half of me wants to run out into the water and grab it.
Rescue it.
But I don't. I just watch the gentle back and forth motion of the submerging envelope, stuck between two waves that have no intention of letting it escape.
“Do you want to talk about it?” Ms. Josephine asks thoughtfully as she lays one of her hands on my shoulder.
The letter she wrote me, it says that she was starting to fall in love with me. But then she writes that she knows she can't love somebody who spends most of his time with the dead. Dying , Angela wrote, was no way to live .
She wanted to end us before she couldn't.
“I'm sorry, child,” she whispers as she hugs me from the side. “We're not like everyone else. It's just one of da cruel facts of life.”
“This feels worse,” I say, “ . . . than if I'd never even met her. How do you walk away from someone you care about like that?”
Ms. Josephine doesn't answer. For the next several minutes we both watch the envelope disappear completely into the water.
We turn back towards the hotel, fearing that perhaps we've left the 'boys' alone a little too long. I expect to see people flying out of windows and cartwheeling through saloon doors at any moment.
I feel my phone vibrate. I pull it out and notice a number that's not familiar, with an odd area code. My heart starts to race just a bit. Maybe it's her. Maybe she's changed her mind.
“Hello?” I answer, hoping to hear her voice.
“Hello . . . Jack . . . ” the voice says. I'm paralysed, frozen in my tracks.
Who is this ? I ask, but I already know. I can feel it. Part of me wants to smile, the other parts of me tremble.
“You know who this is,” she says hauntingly.
Kristen ? I say as Ms. Josephine suddenly stops and turns towards me.
“We've been watching you, Jack. You've been quite busy playing bounty hunter, lately.”
I don't speak.
I don't whisper.
I can't even breathe.
“ . . . you shook my hand. You looked right at me and yet you couldn't see me.” I half panic, realizing she's come into contact with me . . . here. If she was close enough to touch me, she was close enough to have . . . But I know what I have to do. There are only two ways this story can end:
We win, or she does.
Basically good versus horribly evil.
“I . . . I have to take all of you back,” I say, the air in my lungs barely making it past my vocal cords.
And she doesn't say anything for a moment. The longest few seconds of my life.
“This is our world, now. Leave us alone. It's in your best interests.”
You know I can't do that.
“You don't need to visit Deadside, Jack. Deadside is coming to visit you .”
Click .
And the call was dead way before it ended.
The 19 Evils, following the prophecy, had declared their stand against God. They have taken a posture of ambush and offense, warning the Pagan that they will not be denied their place on earth.
And now, it is the Pagan who will be hunted.
The number of days until the end are growing shorter with each passing sunset. It won't be long now.
µ
The story of Jack Pagan is starting to unfold.
The 19 evils have decided to fight back.
Now Jack becomes the hunted.
Coming soon . . .
See Jack Run.
A Jack Pagan Adventure
A novel
by
Nicholas Black
The 23 evils must be captured . . .
See Jack Hunt.
Agent of the Dead
A novel
by
Nicholas Black
Table of Contents
Prologue
Part II
Epilogue
See Jack Hunt (See Jack Die) Page 34