Carnival of Mayhem (Gray Spear Society)

by Siegel, Alex

  Nobody answered.

  Marina handed her a can of pepper spray. Ethel walked over to one of the captives and sprayed him directly in the eyes. He thrashed and moaned.

  "When somebody asks a question politely," Ethel said, "you should answer."

  She went around the room and sprayed the rest of the captives the same way.

  Smythe wanted to step outside. There was no good reason for him to watch. When he saw people suffering, he felt compelled to do something about it, which was why he had become a doctor. The Eternals deserved to pay for their crimes, but he didn't need to be part of the punishment process. It was enough for him to know justice was being served.

  However, Ethel wouldn't approve if he walked out. He had to endure.

  "You're going to die," Obsidian said.

  "We all die, eventually," Ethel said.

  "For you, it will be very soon. My people will find you, all of you."

  "I doubt it."

  "We have money and powerful friends. We even have cops on our payroll."

  She smiled. "We have more money and more powerful friends."

  "It doesn't matter," he said. "The Order of Eternal Night has a destiny. We will be the last survivors on Earth. We will preside over the death of humanity."

  "Sure, and I'm the Queen of England."

  "You don't understand."

  "I guess not. Knife and battery, please."

  Marina handed a small knife and a nine volt battery to Ethel. Ethel crouched down near the head of the nearest captive.

  "Nobody else can see what I'm doing," she said, "so I'll explain as I go. I'm slicing away the skin covering his right shoulder. I'm trying not to damage the delicate arteries underneath. Don't move."

  The captive moaned.

  Smythe looked down at his feet. This was intolerable.

  After a minute she said, "There. The skin is peeled back and the bleeding isn't bad. The next step is cleaning away the excess tissue around the clavicle. Really, you shouldn't move."

  The moans became louder.

  "Perfect," she said. "The Brachial Plexus is beautifully exposed and intact. That's the main nerve for his arm. Now, I just have to brush it to produce a strong reaction."

  The captive gasped and sobbed.

  "But when I use the battery, the reaction will be truly intense. Every arm muscle will contract at once. Nine volts doesn't sound like much, but it feels like nine million when applied to a bare nerve. Young man, this will be a new kind of pain for you."

  He screeched. Smythe had never heard a grown man make a sound like that before.

  "Oh," Ethel said. "I think your bicep tore loose. Is there anything you want to tell me, or should I use the battery again?"

  "Don't tell her anything!" Obsidian called out.

  She walked over to him. "You talk about destiny. Look into my eyes and see destiny. These are the eyes of God, and they are judging you."

  Smythe didn't know whether she was just trying to intimidate Obsidian, or if she actually believed what she was saying. Smythe looked around to see everybody's reaction. Aaron's face was tight and pale. Marina stared at Ethel with an expression of worship.

  "Out!" Ethel said abruptly. "Everybody, get out. I need to work alone."

  Smythe practically ran out of the mausoleum. Aaron and Marina followed, and she closed the heavy, brass door.

  The night was cold, but the fresh air felt good in Smythe's lungs. He looked to the east. There was no sign of a sunrise but it would come soon. It had been a long night.

  "That was intense," he said.

  The three of them stood together and surveyed a field of grave markers. The cemetery, which covered several acres, was completely full. A line of tall oak trees marked the perimeter. There was a road in the distance and Smythe could see the headlights of cars driving on it.

  He heard a scream of agony coming from inside the mausoleum. He tried to ignore it.

  "This is my second torture session with this team," he said. "Are all your missions this brutal?"

  "Not really," Marina said. "There is always... messiness, but it usually happens at the end. This one got ugly at the start. Actually, the true mission doesn't even begin until we have proof the Eternals are an enemy of God. We're still just gathering evidence. To be honest, we shouldn't be torturing or killing anybody, yet. I'm not sure how we jumped so far ahead. Ethel must have a particular dislike for these assholes."

  There was another scream, and the anguish it conveyed made Smythe wince.

  "Don't take this the wrong way," he said, "but Ethel seems a little psychotic to me."

  "She is a pure warrior," Marina said. "Duty is all that matters to her. I'm sure you met similar people in the Army."

  "Yes, and I wanted them to seek psychiatric counseling. It's not healthy to be so intense all the time."

  "She knows how to relax. When the mission is over, maybe you'll catch her doing it."

  "It doesn't happen often," Aaron said. "Ethel has been channeling God's wrath for a long time. She lost a chunk of her humanity along the way, but she knows God's will."

  "Oh?" Smythe looked towards the mausoleum. "Right now she is committing unspeakable acts. Is that God's will? What happened to 'thou shalt love thy neighbor as thyself?'"

  "We're more Old Testament. 'Upon the wicked He shall rain snares, fire, and brimstone.'"

  The door opened and Ethel peered out. Blood had splashed across her chest. "This could take a while," she said. "These guys are tough. Aaron and Marina, go back to the carnival and continue the surveillance. I don't need you here."

  "What about me, ma'am?" Smythe said.

  "Stay. Your medical expertise may be useful."

  "Oh." Horror gripped him.

  "Is there a problem?" Ethel raised her eyebrows. "As I recall, you were the one who demanded I do something about the Eternals. You should be delighted."

  He gritted his teeth. "Yes, ma'am."

  "Start acting like a soldier instead of a wimp." She went back inside and slammed the door.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Dawn had arrived by the time Aaron and Marina returned to the location of the carnival, but the carnival itself was gone. The parking lot was empty except for some dumpsters and loose garbage. He kept driving.

  "Why didn't you stop?" she said.

  "I'm sure the Eternals left a spy behind in case we came back. It's what I would do."

  "That's good thinking. You're more than just a pretty face." She winked.

  He drove another quarter-mile and parked in front of a convenience store.

  "What's your plan?" Marina said.

  "We obviously need to figure out where the carnival went."

  "We can sift through all the garbage but that probably won't help. I'm sure they were careful about leaving evidence."

  "Maybe we'll get lucky," Aaron said.

  "Or maybe we should call Ethel and ask for permission to go home. I'm dead tired."

  "Me, too." He rubbed his eyes.

  She furrowed her brow. "I just had an idea. If there is a spy hanging around, he'll know where the carnival went. We can ask him."

  "More torture?" He grimaced. "No, thanks. I've exceeded my quota for the week. But if we follow him, he might lead us straight to his friends."

  She nodded. "That could work. I guess we're not going home, yet. Let's grab some gear."

  They had driven a plain, blue sedan with rust spots on the body. The trunk was packed with the usual field supplies, which included surveillance and tracking equipment.

  Aaron looked in the trunk to see what might be useful. He chose a briefcase with a video camera hidden inside. A wire ran from the briefcase through his sleeve to a special pair of mirrored sunglasses with a tiny video display. He could turn the briefcase to aim the camera, and buttons on the handle allowed him to zoom the image up to ten times magnification. It was better than a pair of binoculars and much more covert.

  Marina chose a similar rig, but her camera was inside a white, q
uilted hat. This was less convenient because it meant she had to turn her head to aim the camera.

  Finally, he put three different kinds of tracking devices into the briefcase. He didn't know which kind he might need.

  "Ready to go?" he asked.

  She nodded.

  They walked towards the former site of the carnival. Instead of taking the direct route, they circled around and examined the surrounding buildings. Aaron wished he had a hot cup of coffee. The combination of exhaustion and cold was making him sleepy.

  Marina was the first to spot the spy. Two men were sitting in a black sports car with tinted windows. A camera mounted on the dashboard had a telescopic lens.

  "I'll plant a tracking beacon under the rear bumper," Marina said, "if you'll provide a distraction."

  "No problem," Aaron said. "Meet back at the car."

  He unhooked his briefcase from the wire connected to his glasses, and he gave the briefcase to her. Then he rubbed some dirt on his face and clothes so that it appeared he hadn't bathed in a while. It helped that he hadn't shaved in a couple of days. In the meantime she selected a long range beacon from the contents of the briefcase.

  He walked over to the black sports car and stood directly in front of it. Casually, he unzipped his pants and urinated in the gutter. He made sure the men in the car had a clear view as he slowly emptied his bladder. Everybody on the street could see him.

  One of the men rolled down a window and yelled, "Hey! Asshole! Piss somewhere else!"

  Aaron ignored him.

  Out of the corner of his eye, he watched Marina. She dashed forward with her head down, planted the tracking device, and sprinted away. She was gone before he finished peeing.

  He zipped up and walked off nonchalantly. Mission accomplished.

  When Aaron got back to the car, Marina was already inside. He sat in the driver's seat, where warm air from the heater felt good on his face.

  She was adjusting the controls on a small, gray device. "The beacon is working," she said. "If it moves, an alarm will go off, which means we can sleep here while we wait."

  He smiled. "Sounds great, but we'll have to turn off the engine."

  "But I was just getting warm..."

  "We don't want to run out of gas."

  She pouted. "Fine. I'll bundle up."

  "Good night." He kissed her on the lips.

  He turned off the engine, tilted back his seat, and closed his eyes. He was asleep in under a minute.

  * * *

  A beeping noise woke Aaron. He realized he was shivering from cold. He groped around until he figured out how to turn off the alarm on the tracking device.

  Marina was huddled down inside her coat, but her face was exposed and pale. Hypothermia was a real possibility. He turned on the engine and cranked the heater to full.

  "Marina!" he said. "Wake up!"

  Her eyes opened. After blinking for a moment, she said, "I'm c...c...c...cold." Her lips were quivering.

  "I know. I'm sorry. It was stupid to fall asleep in the car. We should've found a motel room."

  He gunned the engine to heat it up faster.

  "How long were we asleep?" she said.

  He looked at his watch. "About three hours, I think. The alarm... oh, shit!"

  He remembered the reason for the alarm, and he checked the tracking device. The display showed the Eternals travelling west. In another few minutes they would be out of range.

  Aaron drove in that direction. He tried to maintain a distance of about a quarter-mile from his quarry.

  The car was finally heating up. As the temperature rose, the color returned to Marina's face. She straightened up.

  "I'd better call Ethel." She took out her phone and turned up the speaker so they could both hear.

  Ethel answered, "Hello?"

  "The carnival was gone when we arrived, ma'am," Marina said, "but two spies were left behind. We are pursuing them now, headed west. We planted a beacon on their car."

  "Very good. I'm just finishing up here. I extracted all the information I could, which wasn't much. The prisoners admitted they're systematically poisoning visitors to the carnival, and the food is the means of delivery. The Eternals are definitely the source of PRooFS. They call the poison the 'nectar of the night.'"

  "How is it made?"

  "They didn't know," Ethel said. "It's produced at a place called 'the Farm,' but none of the prisoners could tell me the location. That information is known only to the leadership of the Eternals. The Farm seems to be their secret headquarters."

  "Sounds like we need to find this place," Marina said.

  "Yes. The prisoners claimed the Eternals aren't working for a government or any criminal organization. Assassination is their main source of revenue. Obsidian also mentioned an entity called the 'Spirit of the Night,' which appears occasionally to give guidance. However, none of the prisoners ever saw it, so it might be legendary."

  "It could also be an enemy of God, ma'am."

  "We need proof. Smythe and I are going back to headquarters. We have to analyze the clothes and equipment taken from the prisoners, and he still has his bag of food samples. He wants to try to isolate the poison in the lab. You two should continue your pursuit. Locate the carnival."

  "Then what?"

  "There is a ride," Ethel said. "It looks like a flying saucer."

  "I remember. It spins."

  "The prisoners told me the Eternals use it as a chamber for midnight blood rituals. It has a hidden compartment that might contain the artifacts we want. Collect them and bring them to headquarters."

  "I understand, ma'am." Marina nodded. "What level of force is authorized?"

  "I just tortured eight guys to death, so it would be unfair to tell you to avoid all violence. Be judicious. I don't want a bloodbath."

  Marina smiled. "Yes, ma'am."

  "Aaron, keep an eye on her. Bye."

  Marina closed her phone.

  Aaron glanced at her. "I will keep an eye on you."

  "Because you love me?" She blinked innocently at him.

  "Because you haven't had a bloodbath in a while, and I'm sure you feel like you need one."

  * * *

  Smythe walked into the laboratory in headquarters, holding his bag of food samples. Filipe Ramirez was already waiting there. He wore his usual brown business suit, which fit him like a second skin. He always dressed as if he were attending a professional conference. His brown hair was perfectly combed and he had shaved.

  "Sir," Ramirez said, "you look terrible."

  "It was a long, hard night," Smythe said, "but a very productive one. We learned a lot about PRooFS. It's definitely a poison, and the Eternals are distributing it."

  He set the bag down on a counter. From the odor he could tell that the food was already spoiling. The samples needed to be analyzed quickly.

  Ramirez raised his eyebrows. "The food from the carnival?"

  "Yes. Be very careful."

  "We're sure the food actually contains the poison?"

  "The prisoners confirmed it," Smythe said. "Ethel's interrogation methods were... extremely effective."

  Memories of the torture session still crowded his mind. Some of the images were so startling and horrific they were permanently burned into his brain. Ethel had demonstrated a kind of cruelty that was literally inhuman. Her victims had never stood a chance of resisting her.

  "Then the next step is isolating the poison. I'll begin the analysis immediately."

  "We both will."

  "Sir," Ramirez said, "you're very tired, and this work will require clear thinking. You'll be much more effective after some sleep. I'm more than capable of getting started without you. There will be plenty left to do when you wake up."

  "But..."

  "Sir."

  Smythe sagged. "You're right. I should try to sleep, but I don't know if I can after what I saw last night."

  "Good night, sir."

  Smythe shuffled out of the room.

  * * * />
  Aaron looked up at a rusty sign, which read, "Berwyn Brothers Quarry."

  "Pull off here," Marina said. "This must be the place."

  He turned onto dirt, weeds, and rocks. The small sedan rattled and thumped across the rough surface. He drove about fifty yards and parked behind some bushes so the car wouldn't be visible from the road.

  "I hope we can get back out," he said.

  She took out her phone and made a call. "Edward," she said, "we're at the Berwyn Brothers Quarry, near Poplar Grove. Tell me about it." She turned up the speaker so Aaron could hear.

  "I found a satellite photo, ma'am," Edward responded after a moment. "It's a big, empty hole in the middle of nowhere. The main entrance is on the south side."

  "Is it a real quarry?"

  "Let me check." He paused. "It was, but not anymore. Berwyn Brothers went bankrupt five years ago."

  "Sounds like a great place to hide a carnival," she said.

  "There is a cliff on the east side with tree cover on top. It might be a nice spot for observation."

  "You're one step ahead of me. How is the computer search for 'the Farm' going?"

  "Not well, ma'am," he said.

  "I have confidence you'll figure it out. Bye." She closed the phone.

  Aaron looked at the foliage around them. It was a mixture of grass, brush, and trees.

  "Not much cover," he said. "We have to be careful. If we spot a patrol, let them go by. Don't kill people if you don't have to."

  "I know."

  "Just making sure."

  Marina gave him a dirty look.

  They left the car and headed north until he glimpsed the quarry through the trees. It was a giant excavation, hundreds of yards across. They turned to the east. Eventually, the tree cover improved enough for them to get close to the edge safely. They crouched in the shade of an oak tree.

  The carnival was parked at the bottom of the quarry. About sixty trucks and motor homes crowded together in a compact, rectangular formation. All the rides were disassembled and strapped down for transport. Alert sentries wore black robes and carried long knives on their belts.

  Plenty of open space surrounded the carnival on all sides. The rest of the quarry contained only rocks, sand, and puddles of water. There was absolutely no cover. A straight, dirt ramp sloped down from the south side.