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Psychological Damage (Gray Spear Society)

Page 28

by Siegel, Alex


  A moment later a women with frizzy blonde hair emerged from the shadows across the street.

  "Hold your fire, men," Norbert said to the Brotherhood.

  Yvonne held her hands high above her head. She was wearing black body armor over a frilly, pink blouse and blue jeans. The combination looked odd. She made a slow, complete turn to demonstrate she had no weapons, at least none that were obvious.

  She walked towards him at a casual pace. Her pretty face was sunburned red. As she approached, he saw that her muscles were so swollen they looked like balloons under her skin. Clearly, she was a fanatical body builder and steroid abuser, and the results were very unattractive. Still, she seemed relatively harmless. She didn't move at a remarkable speed, and even with her extra muscle mass, she was smaller than most men.

  "Hello," she said pleasantly. "Beautiful night, isn't it?"

  Norbert came forward. "You're my prisoner now."

  She lowered her arms. "You can search me."

  He patted her down and found no weapons. Her oversized muscles felt strangely tight, and they didn't match her slender frame. He didn't understand why a potentially beautiful woman would make herself so grotesque.

  "Do you mind if we talk?" she said.

  He put his hand on the butt of his gun. "Go ahead."

  The men formed a haphazard circle around her with their guns pointed inwards.

  "You're Catholic, right?" she said. "All of you?"

  Norbert nodded. "Yes."

  "I was raised as a Methodist. I don't know any Catholic prayers, but I'm sure you have one for people who are about to die. Now would be a good time to use it."

  "Is that a threat?"

  She shrugged. "I'm just trying to be considerate. It doesn't matter to me."

  He didn't understand. She was alone and unarmed. A large number of anxious men with assault rifles surrounded her. What could she do besides flex her ridiculous muscles aggressively?

  "Since you don't want to pray," she said, "I'll just make a statement. I know you're not scumbags, but you have to die just the same. As long as the Brotherhood exists, Wesley will be in danger. Sorry. I'll try to make it quick."

  Norbert heard a clattering noise. He turned to see a smoke canister on the ground nearby. Thick, gray smoke poured out. Two more canisters landed a few seconds later. A wall of smoke quickly enveloped the Brotherhood. Norbert looked back at Yvonne, but the circle of monks was empty. She had vanished.

  Somewhere in the blinding smoke a man cried out in pain. A wet mist splattered onto Norbert. He lifted his hand and saw specks of fresh blood. The body of a monk landed at his feet, and its head was turned completely backwards.

  Suddenly, deafening gunfire erupted all around. Nobody could see what they were shooting at but they didn't care.

  Norbert realized Aaron had tricked him again. Yvonne was just as much a monster as the rest. Maybe even worse.

  Norbert remembered he was here to kill the Child, and this was probably his last chance ever. His men would him buy time with their lives, and hopefully it would be enough. They would die as martyrs. If he succeeded, it would all be worth it.

  He ran into the chapel. There had to be a secret compartment somewhere. He grabbed a piece of brick and started pounding on the walls frantically.

  The sounds coming from outside were truly horrifying. There were odd thumping and crunching noises. His loyal, brave monks prayed for mercy, when they weren't screaming in terror. Norbert heard single gunshots from far away. He concluded Aaron was picking off anybody who escaped Yvonne.

  Norbert found a spot in the bathroom where the wall sounded different when he struck it. He felt around. There seemed to be some kind of concealed panel. He grabbed the edge and yanked it open with both hands.

  A thing made of black claws and rage came out of the hole. He was knocked onto his back. He groped for his gun but his holster was already empty. The point of a sharp knife pressed against his throat.

  He looked up into the green eyes of an astonishingly beautiful woman with strawberry blonde hair. Freckles on her nose gave her face some character.

  "Stop!" a boy yelled. "Marina, don't kill him. Let me talk to him."

  Norbert turned his head and saw the Luciferian Child in the flesh. Norbert had studied sketches drawn by Father, and this was certainly the right boy.

  Norbert had expected a small demon with horns, or maybe a false angel. Instead, Wesley almost looked like a normal kid. He was tall and skinny for his age. His straight, brown hair needed to be combed. He wore black body armor made for a child over a brown sweat suit. His only remarkable feature was his eyes, which looked like small jewels the color of the sky at noon.

  Wesley approached Norbert and looked down at him. After a moment, Wesley grinned like he had won a prize.

  "Marina, get off of him," the boy said. "This is the man I'm supposed to help."

  "Not a chance." Marina shook her head. "He'll kill you."

  "And give him his gun back."

  "Are you crazy?"

  Wesley stared at her. She sighed and stood up.

  Norbert scrambled backwards. With a shaky hand he accepted his gun from her and immediately aimed it at Wesley. All Norbert had to do was pull the trigger and the nightmare would be over.

  Wesley just stood there calmly. He looked at Norbert with compassion, not fear. Those eyes were truly amazing.

  "Do you know who I am?" Wesley said.

  Norbert wanted to shoot. It had taken years of sacrifice and frustration to reach this point. Almost the entire Brotherhood had died heroically to give him this singular opportunity. He just had to squeeze his finger. Yet, he hesitated.

  "The Luciferian Child," Norbert said. "The son of the devil."

  "No," Wesley said. "My dad wasn't the devil, and the name he gave me was Wesley. What's your name?"

  "Norbert."

  "Do you know who I am?"

  "You already asked that," Norbert said.

  "I'll make a deal with you. If you can answer that question truthfully, you can kill me if you want."

  "I can kill you anyway."

  "But you should know who you're killing," Wesley said. "Isn't that right? Murdering a stranger is a sin."

  Norbert looked at Marina. She held a long serrated dagger in her right hand and an old fashioned .45 caliber revolver in her left. The huge gun was aimed straight at his face. She winked at him.

  He turned his attention back to Wesley. "You want to talk about murder? Let's talk about what Yvonne is doing to my men right now."

  "She's doing her job," Wesley said.

  "She's a monster."

  "She's a very smart person who tells funny jokes to her close friends. She loves playing hide and seek. She's a great plant scientist. And she can break a man's legs with her bare hands. Once you get to know her, you'll really like her. But that's not important now. You still have to tell me who I am."

  Aaron entered the room with a Vz. 58 in hand. Norbert recognized him from photos, but he was far more impressive in person. Aaron had the huge muscular body of a professional football player. His square jaw, broad shoulders, and straight posture lent him a commanding presence.

  He spat a glob of yellow liquid at Norbert's gun. Foam bubbled up, and the weapon fell to pieces in Norbert's hand. He stared in amazement as the fragments dissolved before his eyes.

  "Give him another gun," Wesley said.

  Aaron widened his eyes. "What? This man has a sworn duty to kill you!"

  "He won't. We were talking nicely. Please, he needs a gun."

  Aaron looked at Marina, and she shrugged. He took a small pistol from an ankle holster and handed it to Norbert. Norbert immediately aimed it at Wesley's handsome face.

  "Where is Yvonne?" Wesley said.

  "She got shot up pretty bad," Aaron said. "She's eating right now so her body will heal. I think she'll be OK, but who knows with her? Except for this moron, we wiped out the Brotherhood. The battle is over. In fact I think we can go home now."
<
br />   The news hit Norbert hard. The Brotherhood was more than just a religious order. They had spent so much time together they had felt like true brothers. Now they were all gone.

  Norbert's hand was shaking but not enough to ruin his aim. He just needed to pull the trigger and Wesley would be dead.

  "These are my friends," Wesley said to Norbert. "Do you know who they are?"

  "Aaron and Marina. The Gray Spear Society."

  Wesley nodded. "They make sure nobody messes with God's plan. They're really good at it too. I'm lucky they decided to help me. Did you know my mom and dad were in the Society before I was born?"

  "No," Norbert said. "I didn't know that."

  "I loved them, but I'm not mad at you for killing them. I can tell you're a good man. You smell right. Besides, they were tired of running and hiding all the time. I think that's why God took them to a happier place. And I needed a lot more protection than they could give me. I needed the whole Gray Spear Society on my side."

  "Nobody can protect you from the bullet in this gun."

  "Before you shoot me," Wesley said, "tell me who I am. It's an easy question. You're looking right at me."

  Aaron chuckled. "This is going to be good."

  "What is?" Norbert said.

  "You'll understand in a few minutes."

  Wesley smiled pleasantly. "What's your job in the Brotherhood?" he asked.

  "I'm the field commander," Norbert said. "I run all the operations. I'm Father's right hand man."

  "He picked you because you're the best?"

  "He had his reasons."

  Wesley looked up at Aaron. "Do you see why he came here?"

  "Yes," Aaron said. "To kill you."

  "No!" Wesley shook his head. "He survived the battle. He found me when nobody else could. Destiny placed him in our hands."

  Aaron raised his eyebrows. "I hope you're not thinking what I think you're thinking."

  "What are you talking about?" Norbert said.

  Aaron looked down at him with a sour expression. "There is one odd thing about the Gray Spear Society. We never seek new recruits. God arranges for them to find us when the time is right. I joined because I met Marina in the woods. We literally ran into each other. Wesley may have a good point about you."

  "Are you joking?" Norbert said angrily. "You actually expect me to join your merry band of monsters and murderers?"

  "I'm tired of you spewing that garbage. Frankly, I don't want you to join either. I don't think you meet our minimum standards of membership."

  "You don't know anything about me. I can run ten miles with a heavy pack. I can break down and rebuild a rifle with my eyes closed. I don't drink. I don't smoke. I don't curse. I am the model of self-discipline, dedication, and faith."

  Aaron snorted. "The fact is you failed to accomplish your mission tonight. I led you around the battlefield like a dog on a leash. You should be dead now just like all your men. It's a genuine miracle you're not. That kind of incompetence isn't acceptable in the Society. And if were you, I wouldn't brag about my physical conditioning. You look soft to me."

  Norbert felt wetness on his cheeks. The words hurt because they were so accurate. I can still finish the mission, he thought. I can make this right. He carefully aimed his gun at Wesley's forehead.

  "Who am I?" Wesley said.

  "Stop asking that!" Norbert yelled. "I don't know!"

  "You know everything now. Speak the words."

  Wesley's blue eyes were hypnotic. It was impossible to hide from that steady gaze. Those eyes exposed every lie, every mistake, and every weakness. They only saw the truth.

  Norbert dropped his gun.

  He replayed the last eight years in his mind and understood exactly where it had gone terribly wrong. Father Wulfram was a confused, old man. A lifetime of performing noble deeds didn't make him infallible. Norbert should've demanded answers to the obvious questions from the beginning. His ambition to become a hero like those in the Bible had blinded him. The sins of pride and vanity. I thought I was immune.

  "You're a living gift from God to mankind," Norbert said softly.

  Wesley smiled. "That's a nice way to say it."

  "I'm sorry. I'm very, very sorry."

  Wesley came over and put his small arms around Norbert. "I forgive you."

  Norbert was shaking with emotion. "I need God's forgiveness," he whispered. Tears blurred his vision.

  "You'll get that in a few years."

  "Oh?" Norbert looked at Wesley curiously. "Why then?"

  "You're going to save my life. You'll protect me when nobody else can."

  Norbert's eyes opened wide.

  Yvonne entered the room, covered in dried blood. "What the hell?" she said. "Oh, Wesley did his instant therapy thing again."

  "Yeah." Aaron nodded. "You're looking chipper. A few minutes ago you were leaking blood from a dozen bullet holes."

  "I told you I heal fast. I just needed a snack to recharge my body. We should get going. The police will be here any minute, and they'll find a big mess outside. What are we doing with this guy?" She nodded towards Norbert.

  "Apparently, he's coming with us."

  "A prisoner?"

  "No," Aaron said, "as the newest recruit in the Gray Spear Society. Blame it on Wesley, not me. I take no responsibility."

  Yvonne stared.

  Norbert shook his head. "No! I don't want to join you."

  "Too late." Aaron put his finger on the trigger of his Vz. 58. "You just received a lifetime membership in the Society, free of charge. Congratulations. But if you want to quit, I have your termination notice right here."

  Norbert looked at the rifle. "That's not fair."

  "For the first time we agree on something." Aaron helped him to his feet with a distinct lack of gentleness.

  Norbert noticed Marina and Yvonne were looking at him with interested expressions. He didn't have to ask what would happen if he continued to protest.

  The whole group left the bathroom.

  The blue van was wrecked, but Aaron wanted to take some of the luggage. He selected one bag for each of the women and gave two to Norbert. It was a lot of weight for Norbert to carry, but he didn't want to look like a wimp so he kept his mouth shut. Aaron took three bags for himself.

  Norbert gasped when he stepped outside. Yvonne hadn't exaggerated about the mess. Some men had been shot but most were mangled. He saw broken necks, crushed skulls, and gruesome compound fractures. One monk was missing both his arms. It looked like a fleet of trucks had run them over.

  "Nice work, Yvonne," Marina said calmly. "Just like the old days."

  "Thanks," Yvonne said. "It felt good."

  Norbert turned to her. "Edward told me you were harmless."

  "When I left Chicago, he was right. Wesley helped me remember my true purpose. This is it." She nodded towards the field of bodies.

  He smelled rotting fish again, and the source of the odor was obvious. One body was shriveled as if the juices had been sucked out. Brown muck oozed from the mouth.

  "Is that your work, too?" He pointed.

  "That's how I get so strong," Yvonne said. "I digest my enemies."

  Nausea made him turn away. Aaron grabbed his head and forced him to face the carnage again.

  "Look!" Aaron said. "This is your fault."

  "I didn't kill them," Norbert said.

  "Your poor judgment and sloppy execution put them in harm's away. You were the commander. Every casualty is on your head."

  Norbert didn't have the emotional strength to defend himself. He wanted to crawl into a hole and weep.

  "But we'll train you," Aaron added. "We'll teach you how to be a Spear. You'll spend so much time in the gym it will feel like a prison cell. You'll get blisters on your fingers from shooting at targets. You'll learn to move silently and hide in plain sight. When the training gets so hard you want to quit, remember tonight. In the Society, the price of failure is human misery and death. Move." He gave Norbert a hard shove. "And while w
e're walking, tell us what the hell has been going on in Chicago."

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Aaron examined the Avanessian Wellness Center critically. The three story brick building had been handsome once, but now it was missing half its windows. Native weeds had taken over the lawn, and a dead tree was leaning against a wall. He didn't understand why the place hadn't been condemned.

  He was waiting in the shadows at the far corner of a parking lot. Marina, Yvonne, Wesley, and Norbert were with him. Everybody wore dark gray camouflage.

  Aaron felt an unexpected hand on his shoulder. He drew his gun and spun around. A man grabbed his wrist before he had a chance to fire. It was Smythe, and he was grinning.

  "I got you!" he said. "Finally, I snuck up on you."

  Aaron's heart rate settled down. "That's a dangerous game."

  "I just wanted to see if I could do it after all my hard training."

  "Where are the others?"

  "Here," Ethel said.

  She, Atalanta, and the legate came out of the darkness. The whole team was back together.

  The legate walked up to Norbert. "You're the new recruit, eh? I believe we spoke over the radio. I told you to give up and go home."

  "Yes, sir." Norbert stared at the ground. "I wish I had."

  "Will you follow my orders next time?"

  Norbert nodded. "Of course, sir." He was shivering.

  The legate pointed his finger at Marina. "And I haven't forgotten you. Aaron told me about your conversation with Edward. We will deal with that matter in due time."

  She swallowed.

  Ethel approached Norbert. "I remember your face," she said.

  "I remember you, too." He flinched away from her with obvious fear. The infinite darkness in her eyes was still there.

  "I could tell you were different. Everybody else was running around like frightened children, but you were in control. You still wanted to win. You even nicked me with a bullet. Well done." She patted his shoulder.

  "Thank you."

  "I run the Chicago cell," she said. "I'm your boss now. You will address me as ma'am in a respectful tone, or I will personally kick your ass."

  "Yes, ma'am."

  "Norbert," the legate said, "what can we expect inside the building?"

 

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