by Josh Law
Marilyn burst into happy tears as Federal and Mexican agents came popping out the woodwork. She even recognized U.S. Marines and Mexican military officials coming over the sand dunes. This nightmare had felt isolated up to this point, but now she knew that the world was watching. The accused had condemned themselves. It looked like the Durango Drop Science trials would no longer be necessary.
“Honey, allow me.” Chief Riggs charged into the fray of the attack dogs and pulled out his Smith and Wesson Model 29 dropping them like locusts in the desert wind.
Marilyn’s joy had been a moment’s too long of distraction. She heard a piercing shriek and spun around. Chance was already running in that direction.
Alex had been the one to scream. The bait setup had been hoisted up onto dollies by the swarming mercenaries and wheeled to a front row seat of the sacrifice. Ashe’s speech had been concluded now and she dropped the torch into the piles of money. Cipriano’s boys were outnumbered 20 to 1. They couldn’t force their way to Alex’s setup or the stage.
It was up to Marilyn now. She was going against around 200 Modern pirates, cutthroat turncoat U.S. Naval officers, and Ashe’s crazed followers. One woman, a burned, underfed, exhausted and terrified woman at that. She took a deep breath.
“Okay, it’s show time. No pain no gain, baby.”
Chapter 16:
Just because he’d done this before didn’t mean Nick had somehow become an expert on the art of dying. He was still terrified like both times before. It had become a familiar cranking sickness in the bottom of his gut, particularly when he remembered that the Prescott Project had failed to invent a way to induce Lazarus syndrome after the subject had been burned. He was going to die and he was going to stay dead.
Emotion is generally suspended in that critical moment of terror. He didn’t feel any of the pain that came with disaster, but his consciousness took on a camera view, witnessing everything with a cinematic autopilot. He watched with wide eyes and trembling lips the look on Bacardi’s twisted face as the fire spread up the stake. He heard his brother scream and looked over to see that he was suspended over a chemical vat and thrashing to be rid of Snake who had a rocket launcher to his head while five other guys were cutting him down. Alex’s eyes met his for just a moment. They were already dead. He knew that in a few moments flames would consume Nick and all of this would be for nothing. He would go back to the Lab to end his days in an inconceivable Hell.
Nick thought he was hallucinating when he saw his mother running head down through the midst of the chaos. Bullets whizzed around her. Mercenaries and gangsters were dropping like dominoes from the line-up.
She used the chaos to her advantage, pressing through. Nick held his breath. She’d made it to the stage before he realized that this was happening for real.
Springing with a cougar’s shriek, Marilyn pounced on Ashe and rolled her into the bills.
“Pay your own damn debts!” Marilyn took Ashe by the throat. The woman had used intimidation and the influence of superstition to gain power, but she had no great physical strength to speak of. Her struggle was futile. Hell had no fury that could best a mother scorned. She rolled Ashe into the flames. The woman pleaded, but the smoke began to fill her lungs.
“Mom?!” Nick thrashed. His eyes trained to Ashe, who was asphyxiating at a rapid rate from the various chemicals the Hell Money was treated with. Her glassy eyes told Nick that she was most likely already dead.
Marilyn ran into the flames. She barely felt them, her clothes and body already singed from the bus crash. With all her might, she reached up and grabbed the barbwire that bound Nick to the stake. She screamed as it bit into her hands, but pulled it loose. He was able to wriggle free of it and tore out of the flames.
“Mom! You’re bleeding and burned!” Nick’s face twisted. Marilyn nodded.
“Your brother!” She gasped. Nick turned to help Alex when he saw something totally unexpected. Chance Vierra had broken through the back of the line, swung his elbow into the nape of Snake’s neck and knocked the rocket launcher mid-air. He caught it as it came down the other way and shot it in the direction of the beach. Fire spread in a massive donut around the brawl. Gangster, soldier of fortune, and hired pirate alike dove to the fringe of the flame screaming, rolling in the sand.
Peyo managed to roll through the flames. He climbed up and assisted Nick and Chance as they pulled Alex free from his chains.
Marilyn came to the edge of the collapsing stage, an unconscious Bacardi on her shoulders. She looked out over the chaos. The U.S. Navy had closed in on the bay and were firing on the pirates. The Mexican Army began to evacuate the beach and lock down the City. The U.S. Marshall, Federal Agents, and Chief Riggs had taken Anahi’s gang into custody and were now moving in on Snake and his men and Ashe’s colleagues all of whom were still sprawling in the flames.
Nick hauled a shaky Alex down from the chassis on his shoulders and set him on his feet, pulling him close to himself. Alex collapsed against his wheezing brother completely catatonic for the moment.
Renee charged through the smoke, legs still bleeding, holding her bus frame club like a Louisville slugger, ready to kick butt and take names.
“Is he okay? You boys okay?” She coughed up smoke and shook her itchy new hair cut out of her eyes.
“Everybody’s going to be fine.” Marilyn handed Bacardi’s limp form to Chance and reached and gathered the brothers close to herself.
Peyo looked up suddenly, eyes going wide, hair standing on end. Alex noticed it and leaned up and they all turned around.
Cipriano came walking through the smoke. He had a sword in one hand trailing blood across the beach. He’d gripped Anahi’s head in the other, letting it swing like a pendulum from his fingers and trail blood in X-shapes across the ground.
“How’s that song go? I used to love her but I had to kill her?” He threw the head at Nick’s feet. Stood up straight, jaw clenched.
The scene behind them was beginning to resemble some kind of order. They all knew deep in their bones that this was just the beginning of something far bigger than this day. Would they have the strength to face tomorrow?
“Your Pappi has set the world on fire, you know that, kid?” Cipriano looked back. Given their situation, no one was really all that appalled that he had savagely killed the Lady Sicario.
“I’ll be paying off his debts from now until Kingdom Come won’t I, Senor?” Nick’s shoulders sagged. Alex studied him in silence, eyes seeming older than God. Cipriano swallowed and nodded knowingly, feeling for the boy who would always be running from the World.
“You’re right. This isn’t the end. It’s just the beginning. The sins of your father ended with half of Mexico on fire.” Marilyn looked into the wind.
Cipriano looked from one person to the next in silent contemplation.
“My boys and I, we’ve got to make tracks. We’ve got debts to pay too. Looks like everybody’s rushed Mexico for gold again, ‘manito, only, this time, your blood is the mine. You should come with us. All of you, come with us. We can’t make promises but we can give you protection. The kind that one outlaw gives another. Because face it, nino, there’s no law and no country that can protect you from the black market. You’re a high-value item now. You and your whole family…If it were me making the choice I’d consider going underground.” Cipriano swallowed, studying Marilyn. He knew if there was any resistance it would be from Nicky’s feisty mama.
“You make a living disappearing people, right?” Nick swallowed, looking from Cipriano to Renee. She nodded and stepped forward.
“Nick and Alex are adults and have to speak for themselves when it comes to staying and going. I, on the other hand, am legally responsible for all of the other Prescott kids. If we’re going to talk disappearance, then let’s talk abducting 30+kids from Durango, Colorado.” She gritted her teeth and folded her arms.
Cipriano looked from Renee to Marilyn.
“What I’m suggesting will be a life on the
run. Moving from place to place, country to country. Mostly island countries and places south of Brazil. Might even check into my personal hotel in the Darien Gap for the winter, who knows? It’s illegal. It’s risky. You’ll be looking over your shoulder from now on.” He looked to Marilyn knowing she would have the final say.
“We get that. Hey, we kind of left legal concerns behind when we roasted the fence that separates Mexico from Texas. So, yeah, let’s talk payment.” Marilyn nodded. She couldn’t believe what she was agreeing too, or the course her life had taken.
Cipriano nodded.
“No charge, Senora. Disappearing you and the Prescott kids saves all our skins. You see, I’m offering to let you tag along for the ride, but the rest is up to you. Forging for food, survival, that’s up to you. You’ll all have to totally be remade. New clothes, new names. This is the end of life as you know it and the beginning of colonizing your own little right to Life.”Cipriano looked to his men who crowded around with affirmations of agreement.
Marilyn sighed. She looked to Renee, who nodded. Marilyn closed her eyes and silently counted to three.
“Alright, boys, I guess our next stop is Durango. We’re going to get your siblings. And then…Well, God knows what then.”
=Norwegian version=
Helvete penger~
Kroken~
Hun lente henne skuldrene mot en av marmor byggverk av amerikanske historicity. Dette vil markere dagen at livet etter døden og luftet i ett. Hun en ydmyk privatdetektiv var den eneste person med kunnskap om det.
Hun poserte folen 45 følelsen hennes hjerte bankende i hennes lett tilgjengelig. Hun kunne høre sine fotspor. Grit av sand var på sine sko, arkivering av fortau med deres vrede. Men den amerikanske Capitol tok ingen varsel av dire situasjonen om til metastasize innenfor dens parametere.
Marilyn Avalon hadde ingen tanke for livet hennes. Hun holdt pusten følelsen av adrenalinet som truer med å kvele henne. Dette avbrekk hadde å arbeide. Hun ville ha å leve med selvbygde hun hadde vært vitne til. Hennes sønn er nylig vekkes til liv var avhengig av det.
Hun holdt pusten. Vridd mot vinden for å høre deres diskusjon over lyden av hennes hjerte.
"Vi har mistet henne…" mannen sparket en offentlig søppel kan og begravde sine fingre i håret hans.
Følgesvennen hans var en middelaldrende kvinne med en tung Boston-parfymert aksent.
"Hvis hun får tilbake til kid, da planen er gått rett tilbake til helvete! Vi trenger ham! Han var død for 7 måneder. Han hadde absolutt å ha sett noe på den andre siden. Ashe vil forhøre ham…" hun kastet hodet hennes absolutt.
"Du tror det er crazy." mannen var for fet for sitt eget beste.
"Slå opp! Du får meg flambert for sikker!" kvinnen hullete ham i brystet. Han la ut et stønn og ristet på hodet.
"Du gjør, men. Innrømme det, du vet du trenger. Hvis det er noen sannhet å hva som crazy braud holder raving om, da det er enda verre. Hun har gjeld til å sende nedenunder. The Walking Dead er utilsiktet skade som vi ikke har råd. Nå har vi fått den øvre hånd fordi ingen politiker kommer til å bli opptatt med blod rite forbrytelser." mannen spratt hans krage og himlet med øynene.
"Jeg ville være forsiktig hvis jeg var deg. Kanskje hun bat-house crazy, men hele gjeng av dem ta henne hvert ord som bokstavelig. Som kid er en høyt prioritert post i vår lukrative markedet av overtro. Han kommer til å fortelle oss om det er noen realitet til deres bazaar religion. Hun vil sende ham tilbake ned til Helvete for å takke henne gjeld." kvinnen smilte med henne tenner gritted ondskap.
"nr. Vi er dusørjegere, Linda, ikke mordere." mannen støttet bort fra henne forferdet.
"Åh, nå er ikke tiden for deg å være så pavetro, Jeremy! Vi vet begge at hvis vi ikke isen som kid Ashe vil ringe på hennes spisser Lady Sicario for å få jobben gjort. Du og jeg vet begge at vil være dårlig for Devil's produserer. Hun ønsker ingenting mer enn å sette hæren Prescott's gutter unna. Helvete, hun har gjeld til å samle nedenunder for. De alle det. Det er grunnen til at de gjorde en tilslutning til sine bisarre religion. Det er grunnen til at de har tatt hele denne "sameksistens" ting til neste nivå med rare." Linda var ruller med latter nå.
"Hvorfor som kid likevel? Det er en hel passel av dem i rehab et sted i jomfruøyene. Noen som hadde vært død for lenger og sannsynligvis kjenner sin vei rundt en mye bedre. Ontroller, hørte jeg det ene gamle cowboy de gravde ut av Durango's historiske boneyard som hadde vært skitt-napping siden 1862!" Jeremy gnidde bryst fortsatt såre og anstøt fra lindas blås.
"Enkel, dumme. At gutten er selvfølgelig leder av pack. Den eneste med guts å røve hans lånt tid, eh? Han er som Herren Lasarus i underverdenen. Seriøst, kunne han cowboy opp og starte løpet zombie rebellion. Ikke alle som dritt fra Halloween filmen netter av våre forslitte gutter enten, blei. Jeg snakker med rett opp taktisk krigføring fra virkelige folk som faktisk var opstanden fra de døde!"
"Ja, OK, hold den opp, doll face. Du er alle bare snakker smack hvis du spør meg. Han er en high-school graduate ikke Zombie på panseret!"
"Han kunne være! Gi ham et par år, la ham komme til stewing i hans juice…Pluss, han var i dødsriket, ja? Hvis alle som religiøse tullete ting er sant, så er det evig. Han kunne ha hang rundt i Twilight Zone i årtusener i underetasjen. Han kunne ha blitt gitt leksehjelp til ved veldig Lucifer for alle du kjenner! Én ting er sikkert, så langt den atenske menn verden er bekymret for at barn er fair game. Du og jeg gjøre en levende av fair game. Vi enten ta gold rush på dette, eller mister vi våre sjanser til sicario kvinne!"
Stemmene sine begynte å vokse med ujevne lyse som de avrundede et annet hjørne.
"Nicky…" Marilyn var hyperventilering. Hun prøvde å tenke raskere enn hennes hjerne kan holde opp med. Hun ble frisk ut av kontanter. Det var ingen flyvninger til eller ut av hovedstaden på grunn av tung opprop som opphisset frykt av hjemmelagde terrorisme rundt Prescott prosjekt og Durango slipp vitenskapelige eksperimenter.
Hun måtte få tilbake til bilen sin. Det var på tide å gå desertert. For å drive hele natten og modige helvete og høy vann gangbusters stil hvis hun hadde til. Hennes neste reisemål var Durango, Colorado. Hun gikk hjem for hennes sønn.
Kapittel 1:
"Tenk raskt!" Nick mishandlet en kan av Pepsi til sin bror.
Alex følte hele hans legeme rush med glade latter som han fanget soda mid-air. Hans bror satt på ny Harley bombe Runner at politiet hadde gitt både av dem som en takk til stede. Nicky ble coursing med likte jeg latter har klarer skvetter hans bror.
"Ok, ta det enkelt, tiger!" Alex løp en hånd over hans hode med en nervøs knising. Nick slengt hans kne cap og gliste bredt impishly.
Sommeren natt steg over dem velduftende med villblomster og Tiki lommelykter som omgitt Santa Bianca er tilbake på verandaen. En kunne lukte fyrverkeri og ristede bursdagskake fra retningen av barnas hjem.
I dag var en svært spesiell anledning. Flere av Prescott prosjekt barn hadde slått 18 og var blitt uteksaminert fra high school og fremme system, klar til å gå ut på sine egne. To av disse heldige enkeltpersoner var Nick Avalon og hans halv-bror Alex Prescott. Dette, men kritisk til deres nærmer seg babystadiet det kan vises, var ikke den eneste grunn denne kvelden var så betydelig. Det var enda mer fordi det skal aldri ha oppstått på alle.
Nicolas Avalon hadde døde et år siden i dag. Men her han satt, smilende som katten som spiste den canary, en Pepsi balansert på hans ekstra lange ben's kne.
Alex følte hans strupe voksende stramt. Det siste året hadde vært absolutt helvete for ham. Hadde Nick forble i hans grav ved denne datoen, Alex ville ha begått selvmord i dag. Han hadde planlagt å måneder siden på jubileet, slik at de kunne symbolsk la verden på samme dag.
"Flytt over." Alex kom og dyttet sin bror, slik at han kan også sitte på motorsykkel. Han var svært glad for nå at Nick hadde returnert fra land til de døde. Det var godt å være levende og hele. Her med ham på en sommerkveld.
Han compulsively nådd en arm rundt Nick's skuldre. Deres hyppige fysis
ke affirmations på hengivenhet var helt underbevisst. Etter at dual-blod dannelse medisinsk prosedyre som hadde reddet livet deres i natt som sin far og hans makker var død, ville de vedtok atferdsmønster av identiske tvillinger på noen måter. Det var et fenomen som ingen av undersøkende leger som dekker den ulovlige Prescott-prosjektet hadde vært i stand til å finne ut.
Kvitter pervaded og Alex stirret ut i verdensrommet, soda uåpnet i den andre hånden.
"Spytte det ut allerede, Yahtzee!" Nick klappet en åpen palm over sin brors hjerte.
"Spytte det ut?" Alex blunket på hans bror stirre intenst på ham i lang tid, hans nese muskelsammentrekninger.
"Kom, Alex. Jeg tror du vet."
"Dude, jeg har ingen anelse om hva du snakker om…"
"Det var i dag. Siste år. Du har vært fungerende rare hele dagen uten å sette det opp. Jeg har også fått mye glad vekker oppsikt og tilfeldig klemmer fra alle andre. Det er blitt weirding meg ut litt." Nick svelges og nikket. Dette motivet var vanskelig for alle, men ham mest av alle. Han sjelden sporvidde som bakken. Nicky ble ikke håndtere resurrection. Den inntrykt ham og gjorde ham føle blendende ut av sted.
Alex shuddered og støttet sig til hans bror, klemte ham fra siden.
"Jeg-eh…Jeg kan ikke snakke om det. Jeg beklager, mann. Du…ser du. Jeg så det skje begge ganger." Alex hostet.
Nick buede den ikke Alex's hals i hans åpne palm. Han shuddered i sving, følelsen av at det aldri ville bli en dag når han kunne legge det bak ham og stoppe følelsen merkelig hjemsøkt av den. Ikke før han sa det likevel.
"Jeg husker…" han var motvillige, redd for at Alex skulle tro han var en freak.
"Du husker hva?"
"Jeg husker at…ikke her…jeg husker-ehem- hva det er som i heretter." Nick satt opp taller, ser inn i Alex's skremt emerald øyne.
Alex svelges og nikket.
"Du kan fortelle meg ..." etter alt som hadde skjedd, ville han bli en dåre ikke å tro Nick.