Mr. O asked the others to wait at Ms. Cab’s, because what he had to show me was a secret. We made our way across the road and through the side gate to his greenhouse.
“You cannot believe my discovery,” he said as we stepped inside his little oasis. There were rows and rows of pepper plants: red, green, purple, and yellow. And they came in all sizes. Some of the peppers were as small as walnuts and others were as long as bananas.
The place was warm and smelled fresh, like the desert after a summer rain. I didn’t want to offend the guy, but I didn’t see why I had to drop Mission Puke to see his garden. Especially when the future of the world was at stake.
Mr. O paced, rubbing his chin. “I’ve done it, Zane.” He pointed to a single red pepper shaped like a bulging tomato. It clung to a tiny green plant, its weight bending the stem. “Meet La Muerte.”
“You named a pepper after the Grim Reaper?”
“The Guinness Book will put my name in writing now.” He pushed back his straw hat and smiled.
“For a pepper?” I didn’t mean to sound unimpressed, but I didn’t get what was so special about La Muerte.
He tugged on his pant leg and smiled, still pacing. “If I get in the book, Antonia… she will find me famous. She will go to dinner with me.”
My face must’ve been blank, because he clapped me on the shoulder and laughed. “I asked her, ‘When will you go out with me?’ and she said, ‘When you are famous.’ Do you see now? If I’m famous, she will love me.”
Oh. OH.
I had to give the guy credit. I mean, he had a goal to marry Ms. Cab, and no matter how many times she told him no, he never quit. I didn’t have the heart to tell him I didn’t think his being in a book could make someone love him. “So how’s the pepper going to get you in the world record book?”
“The one in the book now—it’s the hottest in the world. It—how do you say?—it paralyzes only the brain.”
Only?
“Like, forever?” I asked.
His eyes glittered with excitement. “For maybe dos horas. But my pepper, it lasts many hours longer. One bite and she will freeze your legs, then your arms and hands.” He stood stiff to illustrate. “Then the brain. So La Muerte is now the hottest. I break the record.”
Definitely respected the guy.
Mr. Ortiz had taught me about how, long ago, the Spanish used to grow peppers in monasteries and thought they had magical properties. I knew he grew weird varieties, but all this time his top secret mission was this?
What he said next was an even bigger surprise.
“But that isn’t important anymore.” He grabbed my arm and shook it excitedly. “I have spent years to make this, Zane. All the other fails were good steps to this moment.” He swept his arm in front of him. “All these plants, they grew only to give me this. It was their destiny. Don’t you see?” he said, still grinning like a kid on his birthday. “I thought all this time I was trying for the world record, but it was for you. Destiny had a different plan. Yes?”
The thought grew slowly, and… I finally caught on. Mr. Ortiz wanted to give me his pepper to stop Ah-Puch! Could it work? It was one thing to paralyze a human, it was something else to try and paralyze a god. He tugged the pepper off the vine and very carefully set it in a small burlap bag. “For you,” he said, placing the sack in my hands. “To stop the Stinking One.”
“What about the Guinness Book and Ms. Cab?”
“No good to have a world record if the world is gone.”
He had a point.
I didn’t know what to say. “What… what if it doesn’t work? What if I can’t do it?”
He clapped my shoulder. “I always knew you were very special, Zane. I believe you can stop this monster.”
It felt really good that Mr. Ortiz had so much faith in me, but it also felt like a heavy burden, because I didn’t know if I deserved it.
“Destiny smiles on me, Zane. She was asleep for many years, and now she has come to my door so I could give you this chance. All I had to do was open it.”
I gripped the sack. “But if your destiny had been something else, something dangerous… would you still have opened the door?”
Mr. Ortiz thought for a second, rubbed his chin, then looked at me. “If you don’t open the door, she will come in through the window.”
Before I left, I turned to face Mr. Ortiz. “Could you not say anything about all this to my mom? I—”
“I will honor your wishes to keep her safe.” He placed his weathered hands on my shoulders, tightening his hold. “No te preocupes. I will protect both of them.”
Hondo wrote six versions of the note for Mom before I finally approved this one:
Hey Sis,
Me and Zane went fishing. Wanted some fresh air, some bro time, after the bank heist. Back in a few days.
I picked up the pen and added:
We can talk about my dad
My hand hovered. I didn’t know if I should write when I come home? If I come home? Later? I finally wrote later then signed my name and stuck the note on the fridge. Where could she have gone after she talked to the cops? At least I felt a little better knowing Mr. O would keep an eye on her and Ms. Cab.
Hondo left to get money from the ATM, and when he came back, he tossed a stack of hundred-dollar bills onto the kitchen table, where Brooks had the gateway map spread out.
“That’s a lot of money,” Brooks said, leaning across the table for a better look.
Hondo smiled. “Been saving for a speaker-system upgrade for the truck, but… I figured we’d need some coin for food and stuff.”
“I can’t let you waste all your cash,” I said.
“On saving the world?” Hondo laughed. “What good does it do me if we get blown to smithereens?”
“Can’t argue with that,” Brooks said.
Hondo grabbed a big sack off the counter, reached inside, and pulled out a leather tool belt. Then, one by one, he began stuffing tools from the sack into the loops: a hammer, a screwdriver, a small ax.
“What’s all that for?” Brooks asked.
“Some war stash,” Hondo said. “Gotta be prepared.”
I highly doubted his tools were going to save us. But how do you prepare to save the world when you’re a featherweight up against an immortal heavyweight?
Hondo swung his arm around my neck. “So what’s the plan? Go find a few gods to help us take this guy down?”
I’d thought the same thing until Brooks saw the flaw in that plan. “Tell him, Brooks.”
“Wouldn’t do any good,” she said. “The gods are pretty much equal in strength and power. It would only start a war that would bring about the same result: everyone dead.”
Hondo didn’t even flinch. “Okay, then we find a magical gateway to the underworld and pummel this guy ourselves?”
I wished it were that easy. But I knew Ah-Puch wouldn’t be in Xib’alb’a. He’d had hundreds of years to plan his revenge, and I figured he wasn’t about to just waltz into hell and ask for the keys back. Besides, battling Ah-Puch ourselves would only end in disaster. He’d head-drop us in less than a second.
I had something different in mind. A backup plan, because I couldn’t balance the whole world’s survival on a single chile pepper. Despite my promise to Mr. O to keep it a secret, I’d already shown the pepper to Brooks and Hondo. I had no choice—too much was at stake. And they’d agreed: We definitely needed a plan B.
“You ever heard of the hero twins?” I asked Brooks. Her face went blank. I waved my hand in front of her eyes. “Earth to Brooks.”
“What?”
“Have you heard the story of the hero twins?”
She rolled her eyes. “Jun’ajpu’ and Xb’alamkej?”
“Yeah. Whatever you just said.”
“What about them?”
“They defeated the gods of the underworld.”
“And they never let anyone forget it, either,” she argued. “Big braggers, if you ask me.”
&n
bsp; “You actually know them?”
Brooks looked back at the map and twisted her mouth like she was trying to keep it closed.
“You do know them, don’t you?”
“Might’ve met the dirtbags once or twice.”
A vein in my forehead throbbed. “And you didn’t think you should tell me?”
“Why would I ever want to tell you about those losers? What do they have to do with anything?”
Hondo rubbed the back of his neck and his eyes bugged out like he knew a storm might be brewing.
I threw my hands up. “Oh, I don’t know. Maybe the fact that they’re the only mortals to have defeated Ah-Puch. They have to have his playbook, right?” I knew Brooks was too smart to have overlooked this connection.
Her nostrils flared. “Those guys are nothing but trouble. And they’re not exactly mortals,” she added. “Their mom was the daughter of some lord in the underworld, and their dad was the god Jun Jun’ajpu’. Except he wasn’t actually alive… I mean, when the mom met him, he was just a head, a skull.”
Hondo grimaced. “She fell for a skull? Was she desperate or something?”
“I don’t even want to know,” I said.
Brooks shrugged. “Not worth knowing.”
“The twins might be our only shot,” I said.
Hondo popped open a bag of Cheetos and stuffed a few in his mouth. “I get where you’re going with this. Maybe they’ll share their war strategy with you.”
“Exactly.”
“Okay, first of all,” Brooks said with a huff, “they’re arrogant, selfish, obnoxious, weaselly…” She crossed her arms. “They’ve never told anyone the real truth of how they defeated Puke. Mostly they’ve let the story build them into some stupid legend status so they can keep the magical powers the gods gave them for being such”—she made air quotes—“‘heroes.’ I mean, who cares that they took down stupid Seven Macaw? As if that’s hard or something.”
“Seven who?” Hondo said.
“Some guy who wanted to be the supreme god,” Brooks offered.
(Was there ever a time you arrogant gods weren’t trying to knock each other off to gain more power?)
“Okay,” I said. “So aside from their being jerks, do you know where to find them?”
Brooks reached into the bag of Cheetos, grabbed a handful, and tossed them into her mouth.
“Brooks!”
She groaned. “Venice.”
“Italy?” Hondo rubbed his chin. “We don’t have enough cash for that kind of mileage.”
Brooks shook her head, looking suddenly sour. “Venice Beach, California.”
That was in Los Angeles. Los Angeles. It started to make sense. “Crap!”
“Crap?” Brooks wiped some orange powder off her mouth. “Crap what?”
I told her what Ah-Puch had said: But they can’t hide from me for long. “I bet Old Puke is there for the twins.”
“Why would he care about them?” Brooks asked.
“Hondo, why would old Puke want the twins?” I said, knowing he was following my logic.
Hondo smashed his fist into his palm and a slow grin spread over his face. “Revenge… of course.”
“I mean, he didn’t just pick that city out of the blue, right?” I said. “But if I can get there in time to warn them he’s coming for them, they’ll owe me. A favor for a favor.”
“Zane,” Brooks said, “they won’t help you. They don’t care about anything but themselves. Even if we made the trip, they wouldn’t agree to see you.”
“Why not?”
“You have to earn their attention… it’s a Maya thing.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I should say it’s a Maya supernatural thing. Those with power want to keep it, which means they only hang with those who have the gold. They don’t wallow with common humans. No offense, Hondo.”
Hondo shrugged.
“But I’m not common,” I said. “My dad’s a Maya god!”
“Right,” Brooks sighed. “But we can’t tell them that, now can we?” She leaned across the table. “Please forget about it.” Her voice quivered. “It’s too risky.”
“Riskier than facing demon runners? The god of the dead?” I looked from Hondo to Brooks. “Does anyone have a better idea?”
“You’re right, Zane,” Hondo said. “Can’t rush into a match without a game plan.” He rubbed his chin, turning to Brooks. “Risky how, Brooks?”
She looked glum, like what I was asking her to do was worse than jumping into a fire pit. “They’re tricksters,” she said. “People wait years to get in to see them, to ask for favors. Like once, this guy needed some protection for his family—they lived in a really bad neighborhood—and you know what those idiots told him?” Brooks scowled. “They laughed and told him to learn how to fight.”
“What are they, like in the Mafia or something?” Hondo asked.
“Not in the Mafia,” Brooks said. “They’re the kings of it.”
I shook my head. “Hang on—the hero twins? The ones who defeated the underworld? They run organized crime now?”
“Not crime,” Brooks said. “Organized magic.”
“Oh,” Hondo said, smashing the now-empty Cheetos bag. “That sounds better.”
I leaned closer to Brooks. “If you don’t want to go, I get it.”
Brooks twisted her hair around her pinkie. “You’ll need to bring them a gift.”
“Why?” Hondo asked. “Is that like some kind of honoring-the-king thing?”
“Not a king thing—a birthday thing. Tomorrow’s their birthday,” Brooks said. Then she mumbled, “Trust me, they don’t even deserve a birthday.”
Trust? Ms. Cab had said not to trust Brooks. I’d ignored the advice, because I didn’t want it to be true. But I suspected Brooks wasn’t telling me everything. She’d been weirdly quiet at Ms. Cab’s, and I could tell wheels were turning in her mind.
But what choice did I have? Brooks knew important stuff I didn’t. And we didn’t have time to argue. I had to trust her. I rolled up the map and headed for the door.
Brooks caught me, grabbed my arm, and twisted me around. “Zane, are you one hundred percent sure you want to do this? No one ever leaves without owing them something.”
She released her hand quickly, probably thinking I would jump into her mind.
“I already owe a debt to Ah-Puch, and after tonight we only have two moons to change that,” I said more boldly than I felt. “We have to try.”
She twisted her mouth to the side and let out a long breath. “You risked your life for me, made a d—” She stopped herself before spilling any more to Hondo. “Okay… I’ll take you there. It’s the least I can do.”
“You don’t have to,” I said, feeling suddenly guilty. “I mean, I want you to come, but if—”
“You’ll never get in without me. Let’s just hope we don’t run into any more demons.”
“I know you’re scared….”
“I’m not scared, Obispo. I’ve lost all my demon-tormenting flashlights and I’m not about to go back to that cave to retrieve them.” She tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. “Now about this map….”
“Are we using a magical gateway?” Hondo’s eyebrows shot up.
Brooks said, “There aren’t any close enough.”
“How do you know?” I asked. “Did you… You learned how to read the map?”
“No, I… I mean, I told you I could probably figure it out and…” She sighed and unfolded the map. “See how it’s in panels?” she said. “Well, when folded the right way, the hieroglyphs connect and their meanings change, so it’s always fluctuating. But if you follow this blue line…”
Hondo and I leaned closer, trying to follow.
“It travels to California, right?” she said. “But there aren’t any flashing gateways between here and there. The closest one is in Texas, which would lead us to the North Pole, and…” She folded the panels a different way, giving us a new view. “
Once there, we’d have to go to Iceland….”
“What? No direct flights?” Hondo said. “What a rip-off.”
“Okay, okay,” I said, my head spinning. “I get it. We’ll have to drive.”
Brooks nodded. “But we need to be there by nine p.m. if you want to see the twins. Or else you’ll have to wait another day, and we don’t have that kind of time.”
“What’s so special about nine?”
“Doors close after that.”
“How do you know?”
Brooks rolled her eyes. “Their birthday is, like, a universal event, and invitations went out. I… I sort of got one.”
Hondo nodded slowly, and grinned. “So you’re an it girl. Niiiice.”
Brooks slugged Hondo in the arm. “Call me that again, and I’ll drop you from the top of a mountain.”
Brooks? An it girl? I wasn’t even sure what that was, but I guessed it meant she was part of the cool crowd. But that made no sense. I mean, cool girls don’t usually wear beat-up combat boots, basic black hoodies, and zero makeup. And they for sure didn’t talk to me.
18
We piled into Hondo’s black F150 truck. The thing was a beast on huge wheels. Hondo spent much of his free time waxing her to a shine, and most of his money tricking her out.
We were on the open highway a few minutes later. I let the window down and leaned out. The cool night air whipped through my hair. I’d put Ms. Cab’s pinkish eyeball (it looked like it once belonged to a giant rat) in a plastic sandwich bag and carefully stashed it in my backpack on account of not wanting it to pop like a grape in my pocket.
“Looks like we should take I-10 straight through Tucson and Phoenix,” Brooks said, studying a road map Hondo had picked up.
Hondo grinned and turned on some really bad punk rock that rattled my bones.
I’d never been out of New Mexico, so crossing the state line into Arizona felt like a get out of jail free card. The whole landscape changed from familiar yucca and mesquite to funny-shaped cactus with arms—Hondo called them saguaro. In the dark, the tall cactus looked like living things that could uproot themselves and chase after us. Okay, so I was paranoid. But who wouldn’t be after the day I’d had? Fighting off demon runners, swimming through darkness, cutting deals with the lord of the dead, talking to a very angry chicken, and saving a life. Bet that’s even more than you gods typically do in just a few hours.
The Storm Runner Page 13