by Josh Law
Alex thrashed back and forth. He’d been stunned by what his brother had done, but it was stupid. Any bullet that was aimed for Nick was one that he had to take. He tore himself free of the belt and slid like a baseball player under the fence. He threw himself on top of Nick and rolled him out from under the crush of hooves.
Nick heard his heart laboring in his ears. This was that feeling he’d gotten just before he’d blacked out and woken up Elsewhere. Convinced he’d died again, he laid there with his eyes closed unwilling to accept this. He’d needed to save both of his mothers and all of his siblings.
“Nicky? You okay, man?” It was Alex’s voice. Nick sat bolt upright taking both sides of his face in his hands. Oh God, Alex too? How had he let that happen on his watch?
Cipriano had opened the gate. Horses and bulls ran free, to wind down from whatever high these cruel gang lords had subjected them to in greener pastures. The sicario stood over them now thumbs twisted in his belt.
“I have never seen anything like this before, in my entire life. You have put my boys to shame. That makes you one of mine. If you need a favor anytime, you’ve got it. I’ll take you to Ashe if that’s what you’ve gotta do. This whole sacrificial death thing, though? Yeah no, we’re going to have to find a way around that.” Cipriano hauled the boys to their feet and clapped them on the back.
Nick ripped the make-shift turban down from his mouth and gaped at Alex.
“I’ve already told you, brother. Don’t make me say it again.” Alex hung his head too tired to try and talk about it anymore. Cipriano was right. There had to be a way around Nick’s sacrifice. If there was, then he would find it no matter the cost.
Chapter 10:
She hadn’t felt this helpless since she’d realized she was carrying Nicky.
Marilyn thrashed against the bus’ seat. The razor wire dug into her abdomen. Renee pressed two fingers to her collar bone.
“Stop. You need to keep it together. You’re no good to the boys bleeding out on me, girl.”
Marilyn turned to look at Renee. She had her jaw squared, looking straight ahead. They’d been separated from Chance. The Spec Ops renegades were “talking” to him.
‘Talking’ meant more or less taking a tire iron to the small of his back and beating him as retribution for firing at Snake. He was taking it like a man. There were no cries, but they still knew he was suffering the full blow of the renegades’ wrath for their insurgency.
Marilyn couldn’t take it any longer. This was a question she’d been asking the darkness inside her own soul for so long it was about to burn a hole in her.
“How does one do this?”
“Do what?” Renee turned to look at her. Marilyn studied the worry lines in her face. The white rage that streaked down her taught lips. The grit of smoke that had clung to her pale skin and golden hair when they’d passed through the border gate fire. She’d been through Hell. Had done it gladly, mad-dashing after those boys just as if they’d been her own. It made Marilyn think of her as a sister.
“Stay strong and smile? Keep your chin up, grin, and force yourself to bear the false hope that you might actually pull your child to safety, even if it means you’ll roast the sinew off your bones first? I’ve never gotten to keep Nicky. At first, I didn’t want the responsibility. Didn’t think that I could…Then, when I was finally woman enough to accept the challenge of being his mother, he was already dead. Now a crazy practitioner wants him for god-only-knows what. All I can do is sit lashed to this bench. Smiling and entertaining that false hope. That it will all end happily ever after. That nobody else has to bleed and everybody will be home for Christmas this year.” For the first time, Marilyn allowed a crack in the porcelain she’d wrapped herself in. This whole time she had steeled her nerves. She’d just kept moving, thinking that if she didn’t slow down for one second she couldn’t entertain even the remote possibility that her son was out of reach. She was forced to sit still now in this bus parked on a remote street of sinking Mexico City. The whole world sank with it, so far as Marilyn Avalon was concerned.
Renee leaned forward eyes on fire.
“How? You’re asking me how? There is no how, darling. This is do and die. You don’t survive this. But you’ve got to ask yourself the question. Are you going to let the sun go down on everything you care about? See, this fight isn’t over until you let go of it, kiddo. If you can tell the last bit of light inside you to stay in the sky just long enough to guide your path, you’ve got half a chance. If you can tell that fatal whisper in the wind “No” just one more time, you might be able to make a claim at something. He’s your child. He was yours first before the world got in the way. It’s going to tear you apart, but you’re going to have to take over for Atlas, move Heaven, Earth, and Hell below to stake that claim. Love means incinerating everything you are to cast in all the chips you’ve got for a shot at that claim, even if it means you fold. It’s worth missing out on the whole World.” Renee smiled slowly. Finally, Chance was released from interrogation. They threw him into the center of the floorboards and left him there, panting and bleeding.
“Are you making it, little brother?” Renee let the tears fall but tilted her head to the light. Marilyn might be shaky, but she wasn’t ready to crack yet.
Chance lifted his head, giggling mischievously even though blood was pouring down his lips.
“Making it? I’m living it up! They thought they were interrogating me, but I ended up owning them. I know what the crazy witch chick wants Nicky and Alex for!” He tossed his hair out of his eyes, groaning painfully as he drug himself to his knees.
“Spill!” Both women were bouncing in their seats despite the restraints.
“You’re not going to like it?” Chance spat out a molar and raised his eyebrows at it, wondering if it was a big deal or not.
“Well, duh, the crazy braud has my son!” Marilyn tossed her head viciously.
“Not quite. See, the Practitioner put together some kind of convention for superstitious religions the world over after she heard what happened in hometown Durango, yeah? They banded together thinking that when press conferences finally called on Nick to give his account of Happily Ever After, they’d finally know whose religion was the right one. Supposedly, Ashe is the one who has the most to gain from nabbing the kid. She has a lot of debts she needs to pay off with Satan. Instead of going down there herself, she wants to send Nick because she honestly thinks he knows the terrain better. The belief is that Bacardi-the Devil’s Swan’s little girl-sprung the boys from capture and took them to an old assassin that can get them to Ashe, fly them under the radar of all Anahi’s vultures looking to scope them for testing. My best guess is that Nick is going to make a deal with Ashe, his life for your protection. He doesn’t know this, but Ashe does human sacrifices in pairs-heir and a spare sort of thing. Alex must have guessed at something like this-he reads a lot of weird blogs about hybrid religions and stuff- and went with him for collateral.”
Marilyn felt adrenaline shoot like cola fizz to the top of her head.
“Say what? Your hands are free! Can you move at all, Chance?”
“Well, I can still use my hands? They must not have known that.” Chance’s eyes twinkled. He saw the plan in Marilyn’s eyes.
“I guess it’s time to tell the sun to stand still. You think you could cut me out of these wires?” Marilyn smiled with sheepish hope.
Chance snapped his fingers.
“I keep a bottle opener for that. You’d be surprised all the scrapes you can get out of with a bottle opener. I’ve even jimmied a lock with one before…” He snuck up to them both and popped the loose bench screws out of the seat fabric. The wires came free and Marilyn hopped up.
“Okay, so we’re escaping and then what?” Renee licked her lips, eager to get back out there and find her boys before Ashe roasted them alive.
“I’m going to hotwire and steal a bus.” Marilyn rolled her neck on her shoulders and flounced to the driver’s seat. She la
ughed, realizing that Renee was right. As long as she was breathing this race was still on.
Anahi stood outside within clear sight of the windshield. She turned around, a perfect brow arched in a “dare you stupid” expression. Marilyn waved her hand in the “surf on” symbol as the ignition fired up.
“FYI, kids. I’ve never driven a bus before. That being said, let me take you to school!” She kicked the gas. Immediately the spinning bus was met with heavy machine gun fire.
Showtime commenced. Murphy’s Law was in full effect. Marilyn drank in the burning rubber smog and lifted her hands to the celestial realms. She’d have to take this rodeo on faith.
Chapter 11:
It seemed that all roads led to Acapulco.
Cipriano and his boys rolled out a fleet of motorcycles to take them all to Ashe’s door. They’d furnished two old ones for their “guests”. Nick rode by himself. They seated Bacardi behind Alex and she clung to his shoulders fearfully.
She pressed her face against his shoulder cautiously as they grew closer to the old beach town. He didn’t shift or act annoyed by it which surprised her. Men had always treated her as either an annoyance or had tried to take advantage of her. Thankfully, her mother had been considerate enough of her tender age to teach her self-defense. Growing up in a cartel/brothel is never a safe of healthy development environment.
She’d been utterly bewildered by Army Prescott’s sons. The love they had for one another was enough to move the earth and even the stone heart of Cipriano that had never beaten another day after his own brother was murdered in cold blood by the mob.
Would Nick have to die for her freedom? She barely knew him and yet she could see that he was unlike any person she’d ever known before. I didn’t seem right that she should be liberated by his misfortune. For the first time in her young life, Bacardi Tanaka knew what conscientiousness was.
They pulled over once for fuel. One of the teens in the gang, Peyo, bought several boxes of Jarritos and started tossing them to everyone.
“Think fast, ‘mano!” He smirked as he tossed one to Alex who stared absently into space leaning against the pump. He caught it with one hand barely looking up and turned to look at Peyo with a brow curled questioningly.
“Put this on my tab?”
“No, it’s on the house.” Peyo clapped his hands together playfully and turned on his heel. He retreated to the other gangsters mumbling something in Spanish.
“Ay! Mi habla Espanol!” Alex tossed a pebble at Peyo. The other boys started laughing wildly and retreated behind the gas station to talk about the “gringos that showed the boss up”.
“They like you, ya know. They think it’s a shame that you’re going to have to die.” Bacardi slid up casually to Alex hands in her pockets.
“Didn’t you get a soda, kid?” He tilted his head to the side and offered her a sip. She smiled and took a pull off of it, studying him intently. Alex was studying her in return.
“Do you have an Asian relative, by any chance?” He smiled still bewildered by her prevalently Japanese features.
“Yeah. My full name is Bacardi Tanaka. See, my mom, she’s like what you gringos call a prostitute…There was this break-out big business guy vacationing in Mexico about 13 years ago? He must have been from Japan because he left me his Japanese name. You’d mistake me for fully Japanese except for my Spanish-Mexican mother’s lighter brown hair.” Bacardi smiled. This was the first friendly conversation she’d ever had. The rest of her life had been behind the bar, haggling with clients over her mother’s ridiculous prices or kill-for-sport ways.
“Hey, listen. You and your brother. You’ve changed things around here, you know? I don’t think it’s right for Nicky to have to give himself up so I can get free of my mom and I’m really tired of this gang-banging life, yeah? So I was thinking about making a better deal with you. While your brother’s talking things out with the boss, it would be the best time.” She nodded, deciding that it was either now or never. Her hands were quaking. She had no idea why she was so nervous to talk to this boy.
Alex took a long sip of the soda and then leaned down to look closer in the eye.
“You thinking what I’m thinking?” He flashed an impish grin.
She chuckled and nodded.
“If I help you conspire a way for you and Nick to escape Ashe’s altar, then maybe…Maybe as payment, you can talk to your home mother and I can come live at Santa Bianca’s? I-I heard it was a charity so it’s got like allowances from the U.S. government for international kids, right? Really, I didn’t want to hurt your little sister or damage the property! Honest!” Her knees were knocking now. She was surprised that he took notice. He laid a hand on her shoulder and she felt almost instantly calm.
“Take it easy! My home mother would probably be cool with that even if you don’t help me and Nick! But, seriously, you think we can do it? You know this Ashe chick, right?” His eyes were owl-wide with hope. She let out a shaky breath.
“Well, Cipriano said something about it. If he thinks it can be done, then I’m pretty sure it can. Of course, she’s not somebody you can sneak around. She’s surrounded by former contacts of Prescott’s, like the disbanded Spec Ops unit turned soldiers of fortune that were lined up for a shot of your Pappi’s serum. My mom contracted with Ashe to take a few of these mercenaries to actually infiltrate and capture all of your brothers and sisters and take them to Acapulco. Ashe was going to harvest your organs, extract bodily fluids to make the juice, and then sacrifice you all on the altar one at a time to appease her debts. She had a special ritual lined up for Nick because he’s been to Hell before, so they say. Well, my mother wanted first dibs on that serum. She persuaded the mercenaries to believe that Ashe would only cross them again and so they should instead follow her lead and perform research to extract their fair share before turning over the spoils to Ashe. She left the mercenaries behind in Mazatlan under the command of a real creep known only as Snake and took me with her to Durango.
You guys are kind of an urban legend now, FYI. We knew that we’d have to take you and Nick. Ashe always sacrifices in pairs. You probably figured that out yourself because we took both of you and not just your brother. We had to choose wisely. If we took any less than two we wouldn’t have a minimum good faith deposit to buy her graces back. If it was just a random two of your siblings, then she could just opt to sic hired pirates to the Mazatlan coast and off us all, collect the two we had, and send other handymen for the Durango Drop Science kids. See, it had to be the two of you, because she wouldn’t make any unnecessary messes to collect pearls when her diamonds were already in Mexico. She’d just bide her time, plan it out, maybe even let my mother get her way to an extent, so long as the package wasn’t damaged.
We knew from your reputation that you’d both probably try to defend your siblings. Manipulating you by threatening your sister was just the guarantee we could bag you without a hassle. We were supposed to take you both alive, extract the Life juice, and then hold you as collateral until Ashe was ready to talk. Nicky is the wild card in the entire game. As long as he’s alive, Ashe’s hands are tied.”
“So, we just keep him alive until we find a way to bust Ashe? Contact the U.S. government to come, collect, and court marital their runaway troops?” Alex’s eyes popped realizing that this might actually be possible.
“We have to stall Ashe as long as possible. Our escape threw a monkey wrench into everybody’s plans. Bad timing. Sorry! I just couldn’t do another delivery. It was then or never. It was time for us to get out. I figured we could run to the end of the World if we had to. Saddle up the banditos and ride to the defense of your infamous little family. I didn’t count on burning half of Mexico down! The scuttlebutt is American agents are trying to come and collect you and there’s been gang war from the border all the way to Mexico City.”
“Oh my God! That’s Detective Avalon and Papa Vierra coming for us! I’d be willing to lay down some serious dough on it!” Alex had sucked s
oda up his nose and rubbed it in pain.
“You won’t like this,’mano. I do have one theory to run by the Boss. She won’t sacrifice Nick by himself. But they need to bargain. He could go in without you. Not alone or without some kind of weapon. I would go with him. No one ever expects me of being armed, I’m just a kid. We could play her Devil’s poker. There are several ways she likes to preheat the oven before the actual ritual. The longer he lives the more chance we have of getting inside.” Bacardi swallowed. Alex, to her surprise, was listening very intently and nodding agreeably.
“It’s really funny how great minds think alike, you know?” Bacardi jumped as the Boss stepped up behind her.
“Because you see, we were just talking the same thing over. Now, I have a follow-up. My plan for busting Ashe is suicide, Alex( Nicky finally told me your name) But after what I saw you do in Buenavista, I believe you’d be up the challenge.” He smiled around another Te Amo. Nick stepped up.
“FYI, I hate his plan. As much as it scares me though, it’s the only thing that really makes sense in keeping us both alive. I know you. Especially after Buenavista, I’m convinced that you’re not going to let me die, not by myself anyway. I can’t let you die either. You said to come up with a plan and stick to it. So we split up. Buy time for our Mamas. Boss here is going to meet up with them himself. Take on Anahi and all. The boys from the Death Angel’s gang are going to set you up as pirate and Prescott mercenary bait. Then I’m going to play guinea pig with Ashe until the Calvary arrives.”
Alex studied his brother’s face, smiling placidly.
“Alright, let’s do this!”
Chapter 12:
Marilyn manned the stolen bus like a warship for two hours with Anahi and company hot on her heels. Renee and Chance had lost the firearms Chance had brought and yet were not at a total loss. Under the backseat, they had discovered an old Gatlin gun and were keeping the brass rolling from it spilling it all over the rickety bus floorboards like popcorn on a trampoline. Crossfire pelted the walls of the old Greyhound like a dirt storm on Mars. Marilyn kept her eyes ahead. She incessantly chanted her son’s name like a mantra and kept that bus rolling. If she could just say no to the fear one more time, she still had a chance.