MIdnight Diner 1: Jesus vs. Cthulhu

by Chris Mikesell

  Vega turned his head to the window, smiling where she couldn’t see him. “You ready?” she asked. When Vega nodded, she leaned out the window

  and pressed the intercom button by Glass’s gate entrance.

  The phone on Glass’s desk beeped rather than ringing, signaling an internal call. Glass reached over and pressed the speakerphone button.

  “Yes?” he said.

  “Mr. Glass, sir. There’s a young lady at the front gate claiming to be from the Kitty Club. She says she has a special invitation from Mr. Bakke that he wished to be delivered in person, with his regards.”

  Glass smiled devilishly, “Bakke usually sends two of them, but who am I to complain? Very well, let her in. Hold all my calls as well.” He leaned back in his chair, stretched. He could see the silver Mustang on his security monitor roll through the gate and make its way along the large, teardrop shaped driveway.

  The closer it drew, the faster Alfred Glass’s blood pumped. He stood and went downstairs.

  GLASS REACHED FOR THE DOORKNOB at the first ding of the doorbell. Opening it, he leered eagerly at the young lady on his doorstep, all petite and curvaceous and blonde, dressed in those tight jeans and even tighter Kitty Club tee shirt that showed off that perfect belly. He started to sweat.

  “Hey there,” Jiana greeted, mustering a mischievous smile.

  “Hey, baby. You new to the club?” he asked, cocking an eyebrow as he looked her over.

  “Only just started.”

  “I like your belly ring, honey. Those hair beads, too.”

  Creep, she thought to herself. “You’re cuter than Bakke mentioned,” was what she said, instead.

  Glass blushed like a schoolboy.

  Jiana entered, brushing past his right shoulder, capturing his eyes with hers.

  He turned away from the door, not wanting to lose her gaze . . .

  That was when Vega stepped through the door and punched him in the back of the head.

  Glass stumbled toward Jiana, who tripped him, sending him to the floor. Vega tossed Jiana her gun. She held it to Glass’s head while Vega cuffed him. All the while, Alfred Glass whimpered like a newborn puppy.

  After being unceremoniously dragged into the nearest room, which happened to be a secondary office just past the foyer, Galls found himself being thrown into the closest chair.

  Jiana locked the door while Vega simply stood in front of Glass, hands crossed behind his back, staring Glass down, his brow furrowed and his jaw set. Vega noticed that Glass, even in the midst of all his terror, couldn’t help a fleeting glance at Jiana when she bent over to tuck her gun into her boot.

  Vega shook his head.

  Glass’s eyes darted back and forth between Vega and Jiana. In that way that terror can also bring about a total lapse in common sense, Glass asked, “So, is there really no party at the club?”

  Vega finally spoke, voice calm and menacing, saying “I can give you a lap dance if you like.”

  Glass turned a look of both fear and confusion upon him. Vega shrugged, “Best offer you’re getting today.”

  The room hung in silence for a handful of long, thick seconds. Then, Vega took a breath and said, ominously, “Tell me about the Candy-Man.”

  Glass spoke through nervous breaths, “What?”

  Vega sighed, frustrated. “Let’s try again. The Nighttime Candy-Man.” “I don’t know that freak!”

  “How about Vandric Cane?”

  “Who? I—I don’t know any—“

  “You’re lying!” Glass jumped visibly at the sudden rise in Vega’s tone. “I—I’m not, I swear to God.”

  “Oh, well then. If a guy like you swears to God, he couldn’t possibly be lying.”

  “Well, uh, look, I . . .”

  “You’ve been paying his people for child sex slaves.” “I didn’t say that!”

  “I didn’t ask if you did.”

  “I don’t know who you people are but you can’t do this!”

  Vega looked past Glass at Jiana, who had gone to the computer on the desk and hooked up a remote modem which transmitted the contents of the hard drive everything to Tech in a van three blocks away. After a minute, Tech’s voice crackled in Vega’s ear piece. The voice was uncharacteristically upset for Vega’s wise-cracking friend.

  “Vega, there’s stuff on his hard drive I can’t even look at. Kids, dozens of them. He’s into some serious, hard-core child pornography. It looks like—“ Tech’s voice cut off, obviously deeply troubled at some picture or video that had popped up on his screen. His voice came back, straining to be composed, “It looks like he’s been dealing with Cane for a while now. As far back as a year or more, according to his financial records. Hold on—it looks like he was supposed to meet with him today for . . . my God, Vega. This guy’s not just buying from Cane. He gets his pick of the new kids from every shipment, and one’s going down today. It doesn’t say where or when, but it’s definitely today.”

  A surge of heat swelled through Vega’s entire body. He started to tremble in a fit of barely-contained rage. He looked at Jiana again, who also heard what Tech had to say. She was turned three-quarters away from him, but he could see her face was red. She pulled her hair back behind her ear and wiped her eyes.

  Vega heard her sniffle.

  “Tell me about Vandric Cane.” “I don’t know—“

  “Tell me about today’s shipment!”

  The change in Glass’s eyes told Vega that he knew all about the shipment. “I just said, I—“

  “TELL ME ABOUT VANDRIC CANE!!!” Vega charged at him, pushed him backward out of the chair and to the floor. Grabbing him by the lapels, Vega jerked Glass’s head off the floor, corkscrewing his gun into Glass’s temple.

  Glass screamed in wordless terror, tears forming in his eyes.

  “Now you want to cry, Glass? Like those children cried when they saw you coming?”

  Vega’s gun was trembling in his hand.

  Glass finally spoke, weeping, his voice and his will broken, “Cane has a new shipment of kids coming within the hour! I don’t know where!” His head slumped to the floor, defeated.

  “Is he the Candy-Man?”

  “No. The Candy-Man is a nobody, a pawn. He’s Cane’s bookkeeper. I don’t know his name. Cane sets him up with a new kid every month for payment. He’ll be at the Best Sleep Motel to meet the new kid just before the shipment goes down. Room 19. Please,” he whimpered, “that’s all I know.”

  It took a full thirty seconds of pure will, but Vega finally pulled the gun away from Glass’s head. He adjusted the collar of his coat, then said to Jiana, “Let’s get him out of here.”

  ALFRED GLASS, NOW HANDCUFFED to his own front gate, was unable to argue for his freedom. Not willing to impede a federal investigation, Glass’s men could do little to stop the two bounty hunters from taking him.

  Jiana was at the car trunk pulling out a light tan sweatshirt, eyes now dry and diverted to the ground, yet still she sniffled.

  “You okay?” Vega asked.

  “I hate this stupid shirt. I feel like a slut.” Her voice was weak, and cracked with that last word. She put the sweatshirt on to cover the more revealing one she wore, flipping her hair out of the collar.

  “I think you look nice.”

  She smiled, just barely. “I think you’re a lying bastard.”

  That made Vega smile a little in return, but quickly his smile faded. He nudged Jiana’s chin with his finger. “We’re gonna nail these guys, Jiana. Every last one of them.”

  “I don’t know if I can. These kids—if we let them down—if we fail—I . . . I can’t live with that.”

  Vega took her by the shoulders and forced her to look him in the eyes. “All you can do for them is try.”

  Jiana nodded, eyes back to the ground, “I’ll try.” She jutted her chin toward Glass, “I can’t believe I used to dance for guys like that. Makes me feel so damn worthless sometimes.”

  “Don’t say that.”

  “And wh
y you’d ever bother to give me a chance—“

  “Don’t say that!” Vega was stern now, angry. “Don’t ever let these people tear you apart. That’s what they want. They want to destroy everything that’s good and innocent and right. They want to destroy your will, your heart, and make you theirs. They can’t do that—you surrender. That’s what weakness does, and you’re not weak. You’re not worthless. You’re better than that! Don’t let anyone tell you you’re not.”

  “I’m not better!” Jiana screamed, pushing Vega on the chest. “I’m afraid! I can’t do this! I can’t look these kids in the eye and know that I danced around in my little girl outfits and my pigtails sucking on a lollipop and talking in my cutesy little voice while I rubbed myself all over them! I was their fantasy! I drove them to fulfill that with these kids! I . . . can’t . . . accept . . . that!“ Jiana had tears in her eyes again. She sat on the edge of the trunk, face buried in hands.

  Vega slammed his hand down on the trunk, making Jiana jump. He yelled back, “Then don’t accept it! But do something about it! Stop pretending like you’re the one who has to bear everyone’s sins. You forced them into nothing. Nothing!” Vega paused to compose himself, then took her by the chin and gently made her look at him. He softened his tone. “You don’t have to be perfect to do the right thing. You just gotta have a little faith.”“ “In what? God? Spare me the Sunday School lesson, ‘Wolf-Man,’ I’m not buying.”

  “Why not?”

  “Why should I ‘just have faith’?” she said, her hands doing a strange little dance.

  “Because He has faith in you.”

  Jiana took that in, staring at the ground. When she looked up, her chestnut-brown eyes were worried and she was shaking her head. “I’m not sure that I’m strong enough to finish this.”

  Vega took hold of her scarred wrist. “Strength won’t come from the good moments. It’s not about how easily you handle adversity, but how much further you’re willing to push when you have nothing left.”

  Jiana exhaled a deep breath, then bit her lower lip, considering. “Do you

  have faith in me?” she asked. “Always.”

  “Why?”

  “Figure out why God has faith in you, then you’ll know why I do. Now go change out of those sky-highs and put on your guns, we have to roll.”

  Just as he spoke that last sentence, police sirens arose in the distance. Their lights came flashing from the end of the street. They were coming for Glass. Slowly, Vega and Jiana separated and got into the car, headed for the Best Sleep Motel, room 19.

  THE MOTEL MANAGER CHECKED HIS RECORDS. The room was paid for under a name Vega didn’t recognize. Almost certainly an alias.

  With weapons drawn he and Jiana approached the room. Vega was on the phone with Tech. “So they have Glass in custody? And you sent them the information off his computer? Good. Tell Alexis to stand by. As soon as we have the Candy-Man we’ll get a location from him on Cane and the kids.”

  “You think he’ll talk?” Tech asked.

  “He’ll talk to me. When he does, Alexis will need to have ACPD move in on the location as quickly as possible.”

  “You two be careful, ah-ight.”

  “Careful is for the timid.” Vega hung up the phone. The two of them stopped on either side of the door, away from the windows. Vega took a key card from his trench coat. They would enter quietly in case it was the wrong room or if any more of Cane’s men were in the motel somewhere.

  Jiana, carrying a compact DC-14 tactical sub-machine gun courtesy of the Guild’s arms locker, placed her hand silently on the door handle to the room. Her heart pounded.

  Back against the wall, HK side-arm in hand, Vega slid the card into the lock. The instant the door clicked Jiana pulled the handle. Vega turned into the room, gun thrust out in front of him, and Jiana followed, her weapon tucked into her shoulder, muzzle out in front to cover Vega.

  The first thing that Vega saw was a small boy sitting in the corner on the floor, hugging his legs, with tears streaming down his cheeks. In the same second Vega swept his gun left, bringing himself face to face with the

  Nighttime Candy-Man.

  The Candy-Man looked upon Vega, and a look of surprise and grief came upon him. He stumbled away from Vega as if struck in the heart by an arrow, collapsing into a chair by the bed. He could not tear his eyes away from the hunter as he struggled for words. Finally, pained and grieved, he said “James?”

  Vega, once so stoic and hardboiled, found himself without words. Numb. Lost . . .

  He was looking upon the Candy-Man: his brother, his friend, Roddy

  Darlington.

  “It was me, James? You were hunting me?”

  Jiana was behind Vega, dumbstruck. An air of sadness in her face. She went over to the little boy in the corner, kneeling down. In some far away part of Vega’s consciousness he heard Jiana whisper, “Are you okay, honey?” to the boy.

  Vega was shaking his head. “My God, Roddy. What have you done?” Everything in him screamed its want for this to be some mistake, some joke. But it wasn’t. “All this time, you’ve . . .” Vega stopped. There just weren’t any words.

  Roddy’s eyes drifted away from Vega’s. They moved all over the room absently, as if waking up to what he had done. Roddy’s face took on a look of resignation, wandering, pain. “I never meant for it to go this far.”

  “Don’t give me excuses,” Vega snapped back.

  Roddy spoke quietly, contritely, as if in confession. “It just started out as pictures. Videos. They were all adults. It was all legal. And then I . . .” he cleared his throat. “I started going places to see it. Then one night I picked up a prostitute.” Silent tears rolled from his eyes. “It’s like it wasn’t me. I wanted to stop, but I couldn’t.”

  “They’re kids, Roddy.” Vega was trembling all over. He felt he might collapse. His eyes welled.

  “But eventually I just . . . it became frustrating. I wanted to find someone to love, but there’s so much compromise with people today, even in church. I couldn’t find any good, innocent girls. It . . . it turned into an obsession. I wanted someone innocent to love. I didn’t want used goods. I needed someone pure. My business education helped me to get a job as Cane’s bookkeeper. As payment, he gave me easy access to a child once a month. It was like everything just worked out. It became so easy. I fell in love with the innocence—“ “Don’t!” Vega’s teeth were clenched. A tear streaked his cheek. He

  shook his head, angered. “Don’t call it love.”

  Roddy’s eyes found Jiana, still by the little boy, and he referred to her as he said “Do you ever think about her . . . that way? She was a stripper when you met her. She was seventeen. Did you ever have thoughts about her?”

  “I never touched her, Roddy. “” “We all sin, James.”

  “That’s a choice.”

  “We’re all born into sin.”

  “That’s an excuse.” Vega’s hands tensed even more around his gun. Roddy fell silent again. Jiana walked the boy out of the room.

  “I would never hurt you, James. You can put the gun down.”

  No, he couldn’t. He kept it aimed at Roddy. “Did you touch that boy?” “Didn’t have the chance.”

  “Did—“ Vega didn’t want to ask, but had to. “Did you ever touch any of the kids in the youth group?” Vega wanted desperately for the answer to be no. Not just for the children’s sake, but for the fact that if it was yes he was afraid he would shoot Roddy in the head.

  Roddy took in a long, trembling breath and looked up at Vega. Finally, “No.”

  “You’re going to tell me about Vandric Cane and the shipment of children. Then you’re going to jail.”

  Roddy slowly reached behind himself and pulled out a gun. “Stop,” Vega warned.

  Roddy set it in his lap. “I can’t go to jail. You know what they do to guys like me?”

  “Am I supposed to feel sorry for you?” Vega asked. But strangely, some small part of him looked at the brok
en and fallen man before him and felt very sorry for him.

  Jiana, having left the boy with motel security, came back into the room. Roddy’s eyes became vacant, empty, as if he were watching something

  tragic happen that Vega could not see. “Cane is in the warehouse across the street, James. The deal is going down right now. He has a laptop with him that he uses for all of his illegal transactions. It’s my laptop. It has the locations of the other sixteen kids I kidnapped and the kids from Cain’s past purchases, as well as records of all Cain’s dealings, suppliers, and his entire client list. The list . . . it’s a virtual Who’s-Who of Antioch’s richest and most powerful. Even has a few famous names from around the country.” Roddy’s hand tightened around his gun. “You two are going to ruin a lot of lives.”

  “And save more.”

  “I know. That’s why I told you about it. Maybe now God will forgive my sins.”

  “You have to stop, Roddy. Time to repent.”

  The tears now poured from Roddy’s eyes. He said, hoarsely, “I can’t stop.” “I’ll help you.”

  “No. I’m sorry, James. I can’t face the church. Not after this.” Roddy raised the gun up under his own chin.

  Vega pulled his trigger first. Jiana jumped, yelped at the blast. Roddy’s head snapped back, as blood splashed the wall behind him. The Nighttime Candy-Man slumped forward, his gun falling, unfired, to the carpet.

  Behind Vega, Jiana fell deathly silent.

  Vega’s chin quivered. He wiped his eyes, and holstered his weapon. He felt Jiana’s hand gently take hold of his. He didn’t fully know why he had pulled the trigger first. Maybe he thought Roddy was going to aim at him. Maybe he couldn’t stand to see the once-youth-pastor blow his own brains out . . .

  Maybe he just wanted to kill him for what he had done. At this point, Vega just wasn’t sure.

  An entire silent minute passed. Neither wanted to move, to push any further. They had nothing left.

  But they had a job to do.

  Jiana squeezed Vega’s hand, and labored to say, “There’s no time to wait for the cops. We have to go.”

  As they exited the room and jogged for the warehouse, Vega whispered a prayer. “My Lord, and my Savior, grant us a peaceful resolution to this hunt, if that is Your will. And if not, then grant us victory in combat.”