by William Oday
Between her upraised arms, something caught her attention.
The dart. The first one. Entangled in his thick hair.
She yanked it free from the matted fur. Unfortunately, her movement also earned Jack’s attention.
He lowered his head and his lips curled back. Enormous teeth that appeared white at a distance looked more yellow up close. Saliva dripped from his lips and down onto her neck. His body was preparing to consume her.
To swallow her in bite-sized chunks.
He opened his mouth and lunged at her. Huge teeth closed the distance to tender flesh.
Beth turned away as her hand shot up.
The dart found its target and caught Jack in the throat, just below his jaw. It must have spiked a vein because the effect was instantaneous.
His head stopped inches from her face. One long canine pressed into her cheek. His hot breath reeked of blood. His eyes unfocused.
He reared back to his feet in a drunken stupor. Beth’s chest heaved and sucked at air. Searing hot pain tore at her ribs as her lungs inflated.
Jack wobbled back and forth, trying to stay upright. It was no use. Another second passed and his eyes rolled up into his head. His legs collapsed and he fell to the floor.
Beth’s heart thundered in her ears, so fast it was hard to distinguish one beat from the next.
The receding edge of blind terror left her stomach a swirling cauldron. She turned her head and her torso clenched tight. Vomit sprayed onto the concrete floor. A shaking hand lifted to her mouth and wiped away the ropy tendrils clinging to her chin.
She turned her back toward the ceiling and the fluorescent light above was blocked by a dark form.
Ralph stood over her, his skin a waxy, dull hue.
“You okay?”
Beth’s ribs ached and a jolt of pain tinged every breath that drew a little too deep. The gash in her thigh throbbed. She swept through her body, wondering what other damage might present itself.
None did.
“I think so. How about you?”
He glanced at his shoulder and smiled. A weak, uneasy thing like the sun in winter.
“Going to need a few stitches, but I’ll make it.” He extended his hand. “Can you get up?”
“I can try,” Beth replied as she took his hand. The pain in her ribs flared and she wondered if she’d luck out with some horrific bruising or if the bones had succumbed to something more serious.
It didn’t matter. She’d survive. Her years of experience treating various wounded animals told her that much.
A more important question bubbled up in her mind. Would Jane survive? She was still out there.
Ralph stood staring at Jack’s inert form. His eyes transfixed by the beast that seconds ago nearly killed them both.
Beth shook his good shoulder to grab his attention.
“Get a team in here. Drag him into the holding room. Lock it and leave someone here to guard it.”
“Okay.”
“Afterward, bring the rest of the team inside the enclosure. We need to move Jane into the lab immediately.”
Beth didn’t know if the female chimp was still alive or not. If she was, there was no guarantee she’d stay that way.
Beth headed for the door and stumbled a step before catching herself.
“You sure you’re okay, Dr. West?”
“Call the team now!” Beth yelled as she disappeared down the hall. Two thoughts circled in her brain as she went.
How in the hell did a locked cage end up open?
And, more importantly, were Jane and her unborn infants already dead?
CHAPTER TWENTY
Elio Lopez sat in the school office, slouched over in a hard plastic chair, wishing he could be anywhere else in the world. Harsh fluorescent lights buzzed in the ceiling above. Snippets of conversation floated by in the hallway. The excited hum of students free after another day at the education mill.
After the final school bell rang in his last period of the day, he thought he was home free. He didn’t have that kind of luck.
The principal was waiting outside the classroom and ushered him back to the office. He’d been sitting here for a while now. It was all part of the punishment. First, they made you sit out in the front office and wonder. After you stewed in anxiety for a while, only then did you go into the principal’s office and receive the punishment.
The first part was working. Elio tried not to imagine what his mom was going to say. She’d be pissed. That’s all he knew for sure. His head hung so low it looked like his neck had given up.
Suspension was the likely outcome of the coming conversation. These disciplinary meetings were always called conversations. As if two old friends were just sitting down to sort through some misunderstanding. Conversation didn’t cover it. It was a lecture of disappointment. His job was to sit there and listen while coming across as regretful for whatever the hell they got him for this time.
Fine. He’d play his part.
It wasn’t that he loved his regular visits to the office. He didn’t. He just knew there were worse places you could end up. And avoiding those places sometimes required him to do things that landed him here.
It was a stacked deck and he played the hand he was dealt. At this rate, there was no guarantee he’d finish high school.
He was vulnerable and the Venice 10 bangers knew it. They could sense it like you had a neon sign over your head. Once you pinged on their radar, it was almost impossible to disappear. At least not in a good way.
He’d been late for first period and racked up another tardy. They wouldn’t let it slide. They never did.
Elio didn’t pay attention to the exact count of his tardies and absences, but he was well within the serious discipline zone.
Suspension might be nice. No school for a week or two. Take it easy at home. His mom would spitfire though. She’d rip him up one side and down the other.
Maybe he could hide it from her. Forge her signature. Pretend to go to school until after she left for her nursing shift. She never made it home before eleven each night. It’s not like she’d know he didn’t go to school.
A figure appeared at the entrance to the office and Elio groaned thinking that the conversation was about to begin. He looked up with a grimace.
And was relieved to see Theresa West standing next to him. She smelled faintly like flowers. Looked like a goddess. Glossy, long black hair fell around her shoulders in waves. Light brown eyes that even the fluorescents couldn’t diminish with their white-blue haze.
She stood there with her hand on her hip and lips pursed tight.
“Is seeing me so great a disappointment?”
His mind swirled while his tongue fumbled to say something that wasn’t idiotic.
“Uhh, what?”
“That look couldn’t be less enthused.”
“Oh, yeah. Sorry. I thought you were somebody else.”
“The principal?”
“Yeah.”
“You have a conversation with him?”
“Yeah. You?”
“Same. Lucky us,” she said as she nodded toward the empty seat next to him. “Mind if I join you?”
“Doesn’t sound like you have a choice.”
“True,” she said as she plopped down beside him. Her arm was inches away from his. The empty air between crackled with anticipation. He wondered if she felt it too.
Probably not.
He tried to think of something to say. Something casual.
Nothing came.
“So, what you in for?”
He blinked. She made it sound so easy.
“Tardies. You?”
“Same.”
He nodded, hoping she would say something else so they could avoid an awkward silence.
“Holly said your gangster friends are throwing a big party tonight.”
They were. He knew about it. Cesar told him about it. Invited him—no, that wasn’t quite accurate—told him to come.
He did
n’t respond.
“They’re not my friends.”
“Really? I’ve seen you hanging out with them lately.”
It was complicated. She wouldn’t understand.
“Yeah, they are. How’d Holly know?”
“She knows every party happening within ten square miles. She’s like the oracle of weekend social activity.”
Elio nodded.
“Those guys are okay for me. Not for you.”
He didn’t want her getting anywhere near the Venice 10 members. She and they were from two totally different worlds. He floated in the uncomfortable space between. Each world pulling at him with a force as sure as gravity.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Nothing. Never mind.”
A terrible silence descended.
Thankfully, she broke it.
“Listen, maybe we can hang out sometime.”
Did he just hear her right?
His insides twisted up. He panicked. A deer in a spotlight. The moon in the face of the sun. He didn’t respond.
“Not if you don’t want to.”
He should’ve responded!
A crease formed between her delicate brows.
No. No. No. He was losing the moment. He blurted out words before they processed through his internal filter.
“I’d love to hang out with you anywhere!”
The words were awkward enough, but the way they spilled out of his mouth in a jumble made it ten times worse.
“Elio Lopez, are you asking me out on a date?”
Crimson fire singed his face. He didn’t know what to say.
“No!”
She was so gorgeous. So smart. So everything. He didn’t have a chance. He was an idiot to think he might.
She looked at him like he was a Martian.
Why did he just say no? He should’ve said yes. Wasn’t she basically telling him to say yes?
Another figure appeared in the doorway.
“Miss West, thank you for taking the time to see me. I’ll be a few minutes with Mr. Lopez and then we can discuss the difficulty you have with arriving at class in a timely manner.”
She looked down in shame. Elio couldn’t tell if it was an act or not. In the office, it was always better to appear sorry, whether you felt it or not. Elio knew of more than a few girls who turned on the waterworks to get out of deserved punishments.
Unfortunately for him, Elio couldn’t bring himself to fake cry to save his hide.
The principal headed towards his open office door.
“Follow me, Mr. Lopez.”
Elio stood and followed. A sheep to the slaughter. He looked back just before disappearing through the doorway.
Theresa flashed a smile that left him breathless and no longer caring about what might happen. She mouthed two words to him.
Good luck.
He could face anything with her at his side. If only she’d give him the chance.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
An impossibly long conversation later, Elio escaped the office with a promise to have his mother call the school. Despite the depth of the shit that was now his life, he strolled out casually and winked at Theresa as he left. He headed for the bus stop and was intercepted by his friends that weren’t friendly.
The V10 gang members.
The afternoon sun beat down as he struggled to hide the tension in his face. The fear. With these guys, showing weakness was the quickest way to become prey. The quickest way to survive was to join them. And for someone like Elio, being on the inside would offer a sense of belonging he’d rarely felt in life.
The V10 controlled the criminal underbelly in Venice with a ruthless zeal. No map marked the lines of their territory. But bullets flew and bodies fell when rival gangs probed the boundaries.
He followed them over to one of their favorite spots, a dead-end alley one street over from Venice High School. It had a bump in it half way down so that any cars driving by the entrance couldn’t see what was happening at the end. They posted a guy at the top of the alley as a lookout. If the black and whites rolled up, the members had a choice of quick exits through adjacent backyards. The neighbors were smart enough not to interfere.
They also liked it because of its proximity to the high school. A couple members still attended. They liked keeping a few soldiers on the inside. It gave them access and information they wouldn’t otherwise easily get.
Elio looked around, wondering if this would ever feel like home, wondering if he wanted it to.
Old couches lined the covered chain-link fences. Gang signs and names covered every nook and cranny. V10 and VX (X being the Roman numeral for ten) were the most predominant tags. Empty forty-ounce bottles littered the ground, mixed with shards where a bottle had faced the destructive impulse of one member or another. An old import sedan sat up on blocks with the doors gone. It had been stripped down to the point where its make and model were no longer identifiable, the paint worn raw to primer over most of its surface.
Two guys sat in the vehicle, huffing down a huge spliff. The rank stink of old booze and piss mixed with the skunky scent of dank weed. One of them exploded in a coughing fit as the other fell through the nonexistent door and hit the ground with a thunk. He rolled to his back and lifted his arm, noticing countless glass shards sticking out of his forearm. A mouthful of gold sparkled as he laughed even harder, plucking them out one at a time.
Insane animals.
Elio didn’t particularly want to have his clothes smelling like a skunk. He hoped they didn’t offer any his way. But he knew what refusing would mean—the unmasking of a bleating sheep in a den full of lions.
Six members surrounded him, not counting the one in the beater and the one on the ground. He was the sole outsider in the midst of a group that considered outsiders one of only two things. A target or a threat. Either case was dealt with the same way.
Elio tiptoed through the no man’s land as a potential recruit. It wasn’t a safe place to linger.
The members were at ease, as the alley was well inside their turf. Had been since they’d violently ripped it from the Westside Crips in a bloody two-month battle that left twenty Crips dead and half that number of V10 members no better. The biggest blow had been the loss of their previous shot caller. That’s when Cesar took command.
In no time, he’d assumed the status of a street legend. Under his control, the V10 were pushing south, east, and north. Displacing rival gangs in every direction but west, because there was no play in claiming the vast expanse of the Pacific Ocean. Dolphins didn’t buy drugs. Sharks didn’t rent prostitutes. It was nice to look at, but that was it.
Elio stood in front of Cesar, at attention like a rookie in boot camp. Only in boot camp, the worst that could happen was you’d get yelled at or have to do a ton of push-ups. If you pissed off Cesar, you ended up dead. Even if you didn’t piss him off, you still sometimes ended up dead. He was as capricious as he was ruthless.
There were rumors that the previous shot caller didn’t end up dead at the end of a black bullet, but a brown one. Nobody said shit about it, though, because soldiers didn’t ask questions. It didn’t matter who the shot caller was so long as order was imposed.
Elio stared at Cesar’s huge, muscled chest and not up into his eyes. He didn’t want to spark an unintended challenge. The air caught in his lungs as the reek of alcohol-soaked breath rolled over him. He suppressed a grimace. He stilled any reaction whatsoever.
Anything could set Cesar off. At twenty-two, he was only five years older. But it wasn’t his age that gave him authority. It was his size and aggression. He was two hundred fifty pounds of muscled, pitiless ambition. He had one gear only.
Domination.
No, Elio didn’t want to tangle. But a beast like that on his side could provide serious security. The problem was that he’d have to join them to gain the protection. And joining the V10 came with the added danger of rival gangs pegging him as the enemy.
Hence h
is struggle to creep through the dangerous middle ground.
Every moment out of school was a clearer version of what was going on inside. Tiptoeing the line between rival gangs that all saw him as too valuable an asset to ignore. Or too dangerous a one to let their rivals have. Whatever the case, the neutrality he clung to was quickly running out. He got the distinct feeling that if he didn’t claim allegiance soon, one of them would blast a cap in his ass to force the decision.
Probably the man standing in front of him.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
“What else you got, vato?” Cesar said, his words spitting down to Elio’s level.
“Solo mi madre,” he replied. “Nothing else.”
“That’s right,” Cesar said. “Think about it. You get picked off and who’s gonna watch after your mama? Nobody. And that’s assuming she doesn’t take a round herself.”
The threat in his voice was inescapable.
Acid climbed up Elio’s throat. His jaw clenched and teeth ground together. He wanted to smash this cholo’s face in. Leave his nose a pulped mess.
But this wasn’t fantasyland where you got even just because you deserved it.
This was LA and the shot caller of the V10. Deserving had nothing to do with it. Good and deserving people ended up dead in a dumpster every day. Cesar put many of them there.
“Entiendo, Cesar.”
“Knowin’ and doin’ is different thangs. You best get to doin’.”
Elio nodded and chanced a glance up and wondered again at the meaning of all the ink that laced his arms and shoulders. More that crawled up his neck and covered his jaws and cheeks. The tattoos resembled old photos of Maori warriors. They were a history book if you could read the language. He openly claimed every hit, every murder, every conquest on his body.
It was part of his legend.
Other members, even shot callers of rival gangs, thought he was crazy to give the cops a detailed report of his crimes. Captured in indelible ink right on his skin. If only they could pin one on him and then break the code of hieroglyphs. The white wife-beater he wore covered yet more history scrawled across his chest and back.