The Darwin Protocol: A Thriller (The Last Peak Book 1)

by William Oday

  Cesar smiled.

  Cuts stood by the table holding a shotgun.

  “Let’s smoke ‘em, Jefe.”

  Cesar chuckled in appreciation. “You got one answer for every question.” The words could’ve been an insult, except that Cesar said it with all the appreciation of a teacher addressing a star pupil.

  “The problem is, I’m liking esta morena.” He punctuated the preference by rubbing his hand over the silk cloth covering Holly’s crotch. He licked his lips and grinned.

  She didn’t respond, like her body didn’t work.

  Elio couldn’t let this happen. He had to do something quick. But what?

  “And Evil here is liking the other one. He has a thing for flat-ass white girls.”

  Elio stumbled forward as a body shoved him hard from behind.

  Oh no.

  Elio turned to see a snarl of malignant glee directed at him. Cesar’s right-hand lieutenant walked in. Evil pushed him aside and sidled up to Theresa. She shook out of a daze as his arm wrapped around her waist.

  She looked at Elio and recognition sparked in her eyes. She glanced over at Holly and stared for a moment, as if she didn’t believe what her eyes were telling her.

  Evil squeezed Theresa. “You like me too, eh flaca?”

  Elio tried to hide the horror in his heart. The terror in his mind.

  As if that was possible in the crowd.

  Fear and weakness attracted these wolves like bloody meat. They could smell it a mile away.

  And right now, every pore on his body oozed panic.

  CHAPTER SIXTY-NINE

  If Evil figured out they were friends, nothing good would come of it for Theresa. If he found out Elio liked her, God help them both. She’d suffer. Bad.

  Evil turned to Cesar. “Jefe, tu madre esta despierta.”

  His mother was awake?

  Cesar jumped up and shoved Holly to Cuts.

  “Keep them here,” he said as he left the room. Evil followed close behind.

  Elio watched Cuts, wondering if he could grab a gun off the table and cap him without hitting the girls, then escape with the girls, somehow carrying Holly, all before anyone heard what happened and decided to stop them.

  “Elio, vamos,” Cesar said.

  There went that plan.

  He followed Cesar to an open door halfway down the hall. As soon as he entered, a foul stench assaulted his senses. So bad it made his eyes water. They filed in and shut the door.

  Cesar dropped to his knees at the side of the bed. An older woman lay in the bed. Elio recognized Cesar’s sister sitting in a chair next to the bed. She wore a white dust mask that had seen better days. Dark splotches of dried blood covered it. She dipped a rag into a bowl of iced water and then dabbed the woman’s forehead.

  The moisture evaporated the instant the cloth left her skin. Blistering red sores covered her exposed skin leaking creamy, yellow pus on the bedsheets. Streaks of red mixed with the lighter discharge.

  With a tenderness Elio wouldn’t have thought possible, Cesar twined his enormous hands around the woman’s gnarled, wasted hand.

  “Mama?” Cesar said in a whisper.

  She turned her head toward him. Blood leaked from the slits of her closed eyes and down onto the pillow.

  “Mijo?”

  “Si, Mama. How do you feel?”

  “I’ll be with God soon.”

  The words cracked and rattled in her chest as they came out. A faint smile etched through the pain evident on her face.

  “No.”

  “His hands now.”

  “How did this happen, Mama? You were fine yesterday.”

  “Only God knows, Mijo.”

  “Then I’ll rip the answer from his bloody chest.”

  “Mijo!” Her thready voice transformed. “Never speak of the savior that way!”

  She coughed and blood and spittle ejected from her lips and onto the bed sheets. She collapsed to her former weakened state.

  “Tell me who did this, Mama.”

  “It’s God’s plan.”

  “Did they have you cleaning something dangerous? You shoulda quit years ago.”

  She patted his much larger hand.

  “Cleaning kept food on our table.”

  The words brought more blood up. Her body heaved and collapsed onto the bed.

  Cesar adjusted the pillow behind her head.

  “You said you’re working in labs now, right?”

  “So shiny… glass and metal… so clean… Beautiful… except…”

  She paused and took a labored breath. It rattled in her chest.

  “Except what?”

  “Got lost… stained floors… the walls… cages.”

  Her head lolled to the side and she opened her eyes to look at her son. The pupils were huge empty discs surrounded by red. The blood vessels in what should’ve been the white part were enormously swollen. One burst and blood streamed down her cheeks.

  “Mama, what did you see?”

  She whispered something. Her voice cracked and the faint words got lost in the muted background of music from downstairs.

  Cesar leaned closer.

  “What?”

  Her body convulsed and went deathly still.

  “Mama?”

  Her fingers fluttered in his wide palm.

  “Tell me.”

  She swallowed hard. The effort almost too much. Cesar turned his head and placed his ear by her mouth.

  The faintest whisper escaped her lips and then she died.

  Elio wondered at how her body somehow felt empty where a second before it felt occupied. As weak as she was, she was still there, animating it. Now, it felt like a vacated home. Shabby and dark without the light of the soul inside.

  Cesar stood and kissed the top of her head. He tenderly laid her hands to rest on her chest. He reached across her body and squeezed his sister’s hand.

  “Take care of her, Julia.”

  His sister nodded and dropped her head. Tears streamed down her cheeks as she returned her heavy gaze to their mother.

  Elio never expected this. That Cesar had a heart. That he was vulnerable. That he loved and could experience loss. The two pictures in his head wouldn’t line up.

  “I’m sorry, Jefe,” Evil said. “You’re mother was a saint.”

  “She was.”

  Cesar turned to face them. Whatever warmth or softness might have animated his eyes seconds ago was gone. Cold fury burned in them now.

  “What’d she see, Jefe?” Evil asked.

  “Sangre. Por todos lados.”

  Blood. Everywhere.

  CHAPTER SEVENTY

  They filed out and returned to the war room. Evil awkwardly patted Cesar on the back. The shot caller batted his hand away.

  “What do you think happened?” Evil said.

  “Don’t know, but I bet her boss does.”

  “We gonna pay him a visit?”

  “Si. I’m gonna find out what happened. And then I’m gonna murder him.”

  “What can I do?”

  “Round up some trigger pullers,” he said to Evil. He then turned to Cuts. “Two rides.” He pointed at Theresa and Holly. “Those two with me. Maybe we party after.” He reached over, grabbed Holly’s jaw and yanked her close. He leaned down and shoved his tongue into her mouth.

  She didn’t flinch. She barely remained standing. She was messed up.

  Elio didn’t want to think about what kind of party Cesar had in mind. He was sure Holly and Theresa wouldn’t willingly do it. He was just as sure they wouldn’t have a choice.

  Cesar yanked her top up over her breasts and then Cuts pushed them out the door.

  Elio picked up a heavy shotgun and wondered if it was loaded. He could turn it on Cesar and pull the trigger. He should do it. It might be loaded. But what if it wasn’t?

  Cesar would kill him. And then what would happen to the girls? To Theresa?

  If only he could think of a way to save them. Like a traffic accident that
you see just in time and swerve around at the very last second. But he couldn’t. He wasn’t the one driving.

  Cesar took the shotgun out of his hands and loaded a shell into the tube.

  SHUCK-SHUCK.

  “Gotta load it if you want to do some damage.”

  Elio couldn’t let them go alone. They’d have no chance if he got left behind.

  “Let me go with you.”

  “You?” Cesar laughed. “You got it in you to kill somebody? It ain’t like a video game.”

  “I want in. I’m ready.”

  Cesar narrowed his eyes, measuring the words. He clicked off the safety and turned the gun on Elio. The barrel came to rest on his chest.

  Elio watched as Cesar’s finger curled inside the trigger guard and rested on the trigger. Half an inch of a curled finger stood between him and his heart and lungs painting the bedroom wall. A cold sweat broke out all across his body. He shivered and bit down to stop his teeth from chattering.

  The shot caller was going to murder him and then rape Theresa and Holly. So much for a brilliant rescue. Like so much of his life, Elio’s final act would be a disappointment too.

  “You know what you’re saying?” Cesar asked. He pushed the barrel forward, pinning Elio to the wall.

  Elio nodded, the signal subtle to avoid causing Cesar to accidentally pull the trigger.

  “Okay. Blood in. Blood out. One way in. No way out.”

  Cesar let the weight of the barrel dig an impression into Elio’s chest.

  The gun clicked and his knees almost collapsed. He wondered what his heart looked like on the wall.

  It was just the safety, he realized with a start.

  The barrel pulled back. The hole at the end looked big enough to drive a car through. Cesar set the shotgun on the table.

  “This one’s too big for you.”

  He picked up another gun and slammed a long magazine into it. A flick of the wrist and a 9mm round fed into the chamber. He rotated it, looked it over with appreciation, and then handed it to Elio. “TEC 9. Thirty-two round magazine. Fully automatic. Sprays like a water hose.”

  Not like any water hose Elio had ever used.

  “You gonna kill somebody tonight, ese.”

  Elio’s knees went weak again. His legs buckled backward, locking out and keeping him up against the wall.

  There was only way to become a member of the Venice 10. Blood in. You had to kill somebody. Once you committed, there was no going back. If you failed or changed your mind, you were a dead man.

  In trying to save Theresa and Holly, Elio had signed up to become a murderer.

  CHAPTER SEVENTY-ONE

  Theresa noticed the dark tunnel strangling her world starting to open. The black edges around her vision shrank as the inner core of color expanded to closer encompass her normal vision. Sound still echoed in a disturbing way, like everything was on a time-delayed, fading loop. Her head spun and her stomach reeled.

  She knew it was weed that Cesar had forced her to smoke. But there must have been something else in it. Her limbs felt like they were only half-connected to her body. She stumbled as Cuts shoved her forward.

  “Guests of honor, tonight,” he said as he marched her and Holly through the living room. His words seemed to play in her head, then play back and play back. Three or four times before fading away. Like echoes traveling through a canyon. Maybe it was the music dropping sledgehammer bass notes on her brain.

  Everything was familiar in a distant and not totally significant way.

  Everything but Elio. He was there. He’d come for her. But then warned her away. She didn’t know what to think of it.

  They exited the house and walked down the concrete path. The guys she’d seen hanging out earlier in the front yard were nowhere to be seen.

  Holly pitched forward and Theresa caught her before she planted face first.

  “Are you okay?” she asked in a whisper.

  Holly didn’t respond.

  She wrapped Holly’s arm around her shoulder, partly to steady her and partly so she could whisper in her ear.

  “Holly, are you okay?”

  Holly turned her head as if hearing a sound she once knew, her eyes unfocused and jaw loose. Cesar had filled her lungs many times. The first time was more than enough to shut her down.

  Theresa had choked on the puffs that Cesar forced her to take. Partly because it burned her throat and lungs. And partly because choking and coughing got it out faster.

  Two four-door cars waited in the street. The one in front was sky blue. The one in back was the same red one in which she’d ridden earlier. Both were classics with shimmering paint and polished chrome. The frames inches off the pavement. Dark windows hid whoever was inside. The back door of the second car flew open and a cloud of smoke wafted out.

  Cuts shoved them both toward it. As they neared the dark opening, Theresa leaned back, not wanting to go inside.

  “Get in,” Cuts said.

  She grabbed the doorframe and braced herself to resist.

  SCHWICK.

  A knife appeared at her throat. The hard line of the blade bit into her skin.

  “Don’t make me tell you again.”

  She dropped her head and climbed in.

  The same black leather bench seat. Empty beer cans on the floor. The driver looked at her in the rear view mirror. Holly fell in on top of her and Theresa scooted and pulled until she got them both up and seated. The door slammed shut.

  Theresa glanced at the door on the opposite side. She had a vision of throwing it open and running away before anyone could catch her. That would still leave Holly in trouble. Holly could barely walk, much less run.

  Theresa couldn’t leave her.

  Cesar had already violated her best friend. The disgusting son of a bitch wasn’t going to do it again if Theresa could help it.

  The only problem was, she didn’t know if she could help it. She wasn’t her dad. She had no weapons. No training in how to use them, even if she did. She’d never killed anyone. She’d never even fought anyone.

  She needed her dad. Now more than ever. If anyone could save them, he could. But he had no idea she was taken, or where to go even if he knew. It was hopeless.

  Or was it?

  Wait. The app. The app on her phone!

  The tracker, big-brother app that she’d fumed over. Activating it would send an alert to his phone showing her phone’s location on a map.

  Tracker 911, or something.

  Hope sparked in her breast. Her dad might save them. That was his job.

  She dug in her back pocket and pulled out the phone. She thumbed it on and the screen flashed in the dark interior. Her fingers trembled as she raced to turn down the brightness. She peered up into the rear view mirror just as the guy in the driver’s seat looked back. She smiled and he looked away with a snarl.

  Evil, Cuts, and three other guys piled into the blue car in front.

  Theresa looked back down and swiped through screens packed with apps. She was terrible at clearing out the old junk and enthusiastic about adding whatever new thing sparked her interest. She swiped all the way to the last screen and saw nothing that looked like Tracker 911.

  Movement to her left caught her attention. Cesar and Elio walked through the open gate and toward the car.

  She swiped through again. It had to be there.

  Cesar opened the car door.

  Then she remembered. It was in the Junk group. She found the group and tapped it to open the contents.

  Cesar slid in next to Holly, shoving her and Theresa over as he entered.

  There it was. Tracker 911. A little red cross with antennae waves coming off. Her finger shot toward it and smacked into Cesar’s rough hand as he ripped the phone out of her grasp.

  “Don’t need this tonight,” he said and passed it to the guy driving. The driver dropped it on the bench front seat.

  Elio opened the passenger front door and slid in. The dark silhouette of a pistol-machine-gun-
thing with a long magazine in his hand.

  What was he going to do with that?

  Elio slammed the door shut and caught Theresa’s eye before looking away.

  Cesar pounded on the back of the driver’s seat.

  “We going down the rabbit hole tonight! Vamos!”

  The driver kicked up the music and speakers somewhere behind the seat shook Theresa’s insides.

  Holly’s head lolled back on the seat. She stared at the ceiling like it was playing a silent movie.

  Theresa wondered if this evening would turn out to be a horror flick.

  CHAPTER SEVENTY-TWO

  The blue car in front pulled off with a screech. Theresa slid back into the seat as theirs did the same. Headlights came on as they rolled down the street.

  Cesar pulled out a walkie-talkie and clicked it on.

  “Hey, we’re going to the Milagro Building downtown. Head up Lincoln and over on Pico. Stay on surface streets.”

  He leaned forward and smacked Elio’s shoulder.

  “Our boy Elio is gonna smoke somebody tonight.”

  The walkie-talkie screeched and then a blast of incoherent howls and yells responded.

  “Pinche animales,” Cesar said with something like love in his voice.

  They continued on, leaving behind the seedier streets of Venice, and took a left, going north on Lincoln. They threaded through heavy traffic and entered Santa Monica as Theresa tried to think of something. Her brain moved thoughts like cars through waist deep mud.

  What could she do?

  She had to get her phone back. Her dad was their only hope. He could save them. And he had to it before Elio did something he could never take back.

  But it wasn’t like she could just reach over and grab it. How then?

  The cars continued east and passed Santa Monica College on the right. Theresa figured her plans for going there for two years to help bring down the cost of a degree were meaningless now. Dreams for the distant future were meaningless when your life wouldn’t extend much beyond the present.

  They pulled up to a red light and stopped. Next to them, a police car eased to a stop. Two troopers looked over in their direction.