by J W Kiefer
The lights dimmed and the curtains pulled apart. In the darkness, an electric guitar wailed loudly and angrily. The crowd roared, an amped-up human tide jumping, thrashing, dancing to the music. In a dazzling light display, Steve appeared on stage. He grabbed the microphone in one hand and the stand in the other, swinging his head to the thundering drumbeat. Jared smiled and saw Dana smiling too. Sure, this really wasn’t their type of music, but he couldn’t deny the concert’s power and excitement.
When the intro ended, Steve began to sing the first song. Jared couldn’t help but be proud of his brother. He wished his sister could’ve been there to share this moment. Of course his parents would never come, and that saddened him a bit. At least Dana and he were here, and he was sure that that would be enough.
Before long the concert was over, and Dana and Jared made their way through the rowdy crowd to the edge of the stage where the doors to the dressing rooms were. Two large men stopped them before they could enter the door. Both men were well over six feet tall and looked like they could be professional wrestlers. The one to the right put out his hand and stopped Jared in his tracks. “No one gets by here without a pass.”
Jared smiled up at the man as Dana quietly scrutinized the man. “We have passes.” He reached into his jacket and pulled out the lanyard he had hanging around his neck. “See?”
The man examined it before looking up. “What about her?”
Dana pulled her lanyard out for the man to examine as well. He did so, and when he was satisfied that they were legitimate, he waved them both through. Once they entered the small door, they were immediately assaulted by the noises and smells of a large party. People were everywhere, doing every kind of vice imaginable. The two detectives found it difficult to suppress their cop nature and ignore the obvious breaking of the law that was not so subtly being performed around them. It did not take them long to find Steve’s bandmates among the chaos. Steve, however, was not with them.
It took them forever to find someone sober enough to know where Steve might have gone, and as soon as they did, Dana left to go to the restroom. Jared was directed to a door in the corner of the large room and he headed for it. He shot Dana a text before pushing through the door, so she would know where to find him. The door slammed shut behind him with a bang. He stood staring at a long maintenance hallway that led from the dressing rooms to the rear exit doors. The lights were dim, and a few flickered in the dark.
He made his way down the hallway, passing a few other doors and the occasional straggler. One couple was pretty much having sex against one of the dirty walls, and to Jared’s great relief, they ignored him as he hurried past. He eventually came to the door marked “exit” and pushed through it.
“Steve, you out here...”
His words caught in his throat when he laid eyes on his younger brother. Steve was hunched over the prostrate form of a young woman. He jumped, startled by the sudden interruption, and his head snapped up, his eyes wild. The woman on the ground was covered in blood. So was Steve.
Disoriented only momentarily by the scene before him, Jared snapped to life as his training took over. He took in the scene before him as his mind came into complete focus, running through every possible scenario. First, he went to the girl on the ground and checked for vital signs. She was completely covered in blood. If she wasn’t already dead, she would be soon. He looked up at his younger brother who had moved away from the body and was now resting up against the wall. He was covered in blood, staring at his hands.
“I... I... found her this way, Jar. I tried to save her. Oh God, I tried to save her, but there was so much blood.”
He slid down the wall to the ground.
“Steve,” Jared said, leaving the body and walking over to his brother. “We need to call 911 and make sure no one else contaminates the scene.”
His mind was now in full-blown detective mode, and he knew he needed to lock down the scene and call the local authorities.
“Oh God,” Steve moaned as he put his head in his hands, smearing blood into his hair and all over his face. “What am I going to do? Jared, what am I going to do?”
Jared moved to where his brother was sitting and knelt beside him. “It’s going to be okay, Steve, I promise. But right now, I need you to calm down and think for me. Did you see what happened?”
Steve looked up at his brother, his face stained with tears. “No, I came out to have a cigarette and I found her like this. I tried to help her, you know, give her mouth to mouth or something, but nothing I did seemed to work.”
“Okay, just relax if you can. You did the right thing in trying to help her.” Jared put his hand on his brother’s back. “Just try to remember what you saw. Any detail, no matter how insignificant, will help the police in their investigation.”
Steve quieted down a bit. He looked over at the dead girl. “I just came out to get some air and I found her like this. After I saw her, I panicked.”
“I understand, that’s natural. At least you were able to... Wait, I thought you came out to smo—” His words came to an abrupt halt as he no longer had the breath to continue talking.
His vision blurred as he looked down and saw the hilt of a knife sticking out of his side. He gurgled and coughed up blood as he lost feeling in his legs. He stumbled and started to fall. His brother rose with supernatural speed and caught him, holding him like a limp rag doll. Jared tried to move, but his body refused to obey him.
Steve leaned in and whispered into Jared’s ear. His voice was strangely calm. “Sorry, big brother, I really wish you had not caught my little slipup. I want you to know that it isn’t personal, nor do I hate you. I truly do wish you had not come out here tonight.
“Mom and Dad are going to be heartbroken. I thought you had caught me in upstate that night when you stumbled into me. I kept waiting for you to try to arrest me. I thought for sure you knew what I was. It really is bad luck that you did not stop me then. If you had, then you would not be dying here today in this dirty alley so far from home.”
Recognition brightened in Jared’s eyes at Steve’s confession. It all made sense to him now. How could he have missed it? It was so obvious. The murders in upstate New York coincided perfectly with Steve’s sudden arrival. He knew his brother had been acting strange that night, but he had shaken it off. Had he not been overreacting to his breakup with Jasmine, he would have seen it.
Steve drew the knife from Jared’s side, and he jerked involuntarily in pain. Steve released his grip on him, and he flopped unceremoniously to the ground. He could neither breathe nor speak. His brother had known exactly what he was doing when he stabbed him. He had slid the knife precisely into his lung, collapsing it and making it impossible for him to cry out for help.
Jared gaped like a fish out of water and he spat up blood as he futilely attempted to draw in air. The world around him spun and his vision blurred. He grabbed at his throat in a desperate attempt to… do what? His lungs were filled with blood and he was choking to death.
He swooned and fell forward, limp. Steve caught him and settled him down on his back. His eyes were sad as if he regretted what he’d done.
No sooner had Steve set him down than the door to the building swung open. Steve’s head snapped up and his eyes went wide when he saw Dana emerging cautiously into the alleyway. Her face went white when she saw Jared lying on the ground. She ran to where he lay.
“What happened?” she asked. She slid to a halt next to Jared’s now convulsing body. She clenched her fists as she cried, “Jared! Oh God no!”
“I don’t know what happened.” Steve rose to his feet. “I found them both like this. I am going to go get help. You stay with him, okay?”
He bolted off toward the door, shouting for help as he ran. Dana was so distraught that she barely heard him. Jared’s eyes were unfocused, his body convulsing from lack of oxygen as she tried to lift him into her lap. She was crying so hard she could barely speak.
“It will be okay. Just han
g in there. Steve went for help.”
At the mention of his brother’s name, Jared’s eyes flared to life. He grabbed her head and with all the strength he had left, pulled her close to his face. His mouth moved but all that came out was unintelligible gurgling.
He accidentally spit blood onto her beautiful face, and he attempted to wipe it off, but his hands no longer obeyed him. She just stared down at him with those beautiful brown eyes that were now stained with tears and sadness. He wanted to warn her, to tell her about his brother, but he was too far gone.
God, she is beautiful, he thought. He regretted that he had not seen it sooner.
“Jared,” she sobbed, her tears falling onto his face. “Please don’t leave me. Not now, not when we finally found each other.”
Jared’s eyes rolled back into his head and convulsed one last time and went limp in her arms. Steve came barreling through the door. He stopped dead in his tracks when he saw Dana with her head down holding Jared’s lifeless body in her lap. Her face was contorted into such a look of anguish, that even his dark heart was moved. She looked up at him shattered by grief and let out a guttural wail of pain. Dana held Jared’s head in her hands and rocked back and forth and wept. It was not a girly or cinematic movie cry, but a hard and ugly heartbroken cry.
Steve really was sad that this had to happen. He never wanted to kill his brother, but Jared had forced his hand. It had told him he would have to, but he had never really believed It. In the end, It was right. It was always right.
He sighed and moved closer to Dana. He put his hands on her shoulder and knelt beside her and his brother’s body. Sirens wailed in the distance and first responders would arrive soon. He did not worry that he would be caught; It always made sure he wasn’t. The only wild card that he could think of was Dana. What did she know? What had she heard or seen? Had Jared managed to warn her before he died?
“Dana,” he said, “I know this is hard, but did Jared say anything before he... before he passed away?”
She did not look at him when he spoke, but kept her face close to Jared’s. They sat there quietly for what seemed to Steve to be an eternity. The paramedics came around from the street out front, directed by bystanders to the alley. One EMT bent down to check the girl Steve had killed, while the other came over to where Dana was still holding Jared’s body. Steve stood and went over to him. They talked quietly and then walked over to where Dana was sitting holding the body.
He bent down and put his hand on her shoulder. “Dana honey, the paramedics need to take him.”
She shook her head and pulled him closer. “No. Not yet.”
Steve sighed and looked up at the waiting paramedic. He turned back to her and tried again. “Dana. We need to let the paramedics see if there is anything they can do.”
She looked up at him with tear-stained eyes, pleading. She knew she had to let go, but she couldn’t. How could this have happened? It was so unfair; he had finally seen her, had finally loved her. After all these years, he loved her, and now, he was gone.
She held on to him for a few minutes longer, before finally releasing him to the paramedics. She felt hollow inside, as they took him from her and checked his vitals. Steve reached down and gently lifted her up off the ground.
As he led her away, she saw the paramedics shaking their heads and checking their watches. Dana had been to enough crime scenes to know what that meant; they were recording time of death. One paramedic walked over with a large black sheet and handed it to the man who’d been checking his watch. He laid it over Jared’s lifeless body, and with that, Dana knew he was gone.
Twenty-Six
It was late and the normally swamped city streets were barren of any semblance of human activity. But not dead. Night was when the nocturnal denizens of the metropolis came out to play. These were the creatures, both human and otherwise, who wandered the streets at night, as either predator or prey. They all stayed safely hidden in the shadows, watching as the Musketeer made his way toward the club where Jared had been murdered.
The area around the club was quieter than it should have been, and he noticed that the entire region was closed off by yellow crime scene tape. The scent of death and tragedy hung heavy in the air, keeping most creatures away. The Musketeer, however, reveled in the glorious aroma.
Rishut glowed brightly as the Musketeer ducked under the police tape and made his way down the small alley to where the violence had taken place. Two outlines, one of a man’s body and one of a woman’s, were drawn out on the pavement and bloodstains were still visible in many places. He bent down and touched the ground, feeling for the spiritual echo that had been created by the severity of the violence. He smirked, his nightmare black eyes darkening as the reflection of the tragic events that had taken place here played out before him. He ignored the death of the woman since she was of no consequence to him and fixated on the point where Steve had plunged his knife into Jared’s body.
“Oh, what sweet irony,” he murmured as he watched Jared’s body fall to the ground. “I knew this would be interesting, but I never imagined that it would be so amusing. Oh, Tzedakah, you are black-hearted.”
He started to rise when he saw Dana’s specter come rushing to Jared’s side. “Oh, what is this?” He stopped in his tracks as he observed her weeping and holding him as he died. The echo of Jared vainly trying to tell Dana about Steve. Dana bursting into tears, unable to save the man she loved. The futility of it all was sweeter than the sweetest of wines.
The Musketeer was so entranced by the scene, he did not notice his blade glowing brighter. By the time the warning registered, it was too late. He turned in time to see a fiery blade surge toward his head, and just barely got his own blade up to block the strike.
Even though he had managed to fend off the blow that surely would have removed his head from his body, the force of it sent him sprawling hard into a concrete wall. The wall cracked; cement particles rained down on the Musketeer’s head.
He rose to his feet, removed his large-brimmed hat, and brushed off the debris. “I was wondering when you would show up, mon ami.”
Nonchalantly he replaced the hat. The entire alley was bathed in a fierce glow that emanated from the blade of his assailant. The very dangerous Sanctuary stood at the mouth of the alley with his weapons at the ready, blocking his retreat.
The angel growled and raised his sword to strike again, but this time the Musketeer was ready for him. The Musketeer was lithe, and he moved with frightening supernatural speed. He was on the angel before he even had time to react. His blade was thin and quick. But despite the fact that Sanctuary’s blade was large and clumsy, he still managed to deflect each well-placed rapier strike.
Sparks of arcane energy and tongues of supernatural flames exploded with each blow, showering the small alleyway with color. The Musketeer jumped over a low swing from Sanctuary’s fiery blade and ran along the wall, his body horizontal with the ground. He leaped over another fierce cut from Sanctuary and landed behind the warrior. He thrust his rapier forward, attempting to drive it through the angel’s exposed back, but Sanctuary was already one step ahead of him, and bent backward, his back nearly reaching the ground, and batted the blade away.
The Musketeer used the energy of the parry to send himself into a full cartwheel, and with catlike reflexes, he flew into a backflip to evade yet another strike from Sanctuary. As he flew past the overextended angel, the Musketeer managed to strike a glancing blow to the warrior’s exposed head. It was not a killing blow, but it did knock him off balance.
That was all the opening the Musketeer needed. As soon as his feet hit the ground, he brought his rapier down in a wicked slash that struck Sanctuary in the back. The angel staggered from the strength of the blow and fell forward. Sanctuary, however, was a skilled and experienced warrior, and he used the momentum from the force of the blow to send him into a forward roll. The maneuver took him far enough away from the Musketeer’s second strike, that it whistled passed him, just bar
ely missing his neck.
Sanctuary ended his roll too close to one of the building’s walls. He tried to slow his momentum but slammed into it harder than he would have liked. He grunted in pain, but none of the wounds he had suffered were life-threatening. The Musketeer did not move to press his attack but stood a few paces away, his blade at the ready.
“Are you done, monsieur?” he asked. “I will admit this little diversion was fun, but we both know it will only end in a stalemate.”
Sanctuary glowered up at him but knew what the Musketeer said was true. He might be able to hinder him, but even at his full power, Sanctuary doubted he could kill him. Likewise, the Musketeer could not completely destroy him. Even so, he needed to know what the Musketeer was doing here. If he had killed the new bearer before he had a chance to bond with the sword, then he needed to know. He himself could not wield Tzedakah, but he needed to make sure that it was not hindered or imprisoned by the Musketeer.
Sanctuary staggered to his feet and braced himself against the wall. “Why are you here, Renault?”
The Musketeer raised one eyebrow. “I always wanted to see the great city of New York, so I decided to come here on, how you say, holiday. Why, would you like to show me the sights?”
“Don’t mock me, dog! I know why you are here in the city, but what I don’t know is if you killed the man who died here last night.”
“Ah.” The Musketeer smirked. “Do you mean Tzedakah’s new bearer? No, angel, I did not. I did follow him here, but I was merely curious, that is all.”
“Don’t toy with me, faithless one,” he spat back. “I know you are here for more than just curiosity. Where is Tzedakah and his new bearer?”
At the mention of the name, the Musketeer’s sword blazed angrily, and he hissed in disgust. “I have no idea where it is, and at this current moment, I don’t care. You are worried that I came here to kill the little bastard, but what fun is there in that? I like a challenge and killing a fledgling bearer would be as much sport as, how you say, hunting fish in a barrel.”