AS THE BLUE PULSED through Kyle’s broken right wrist the pain was excruciating, but it had to be done. The Gray Man was losing his battle. It was obvious that he’d been assigned the three toughest of the group. The Nazi men were strong and vicious, each holding one of The Gray Man’s upper arms with one hand as they beat on his body, ribs, stomach and throat in alternating waves and with stunning accuracy.
The salamander woman, meanwhile, seemed to be relishing his torture, tightening her tail around The Gray Man’s face as his hands struggled to free himself from her grip. His hat had been knocked to the ground and was being stepped on by his own two feet as he stumbled backwards and forwards, swinging his body from side to side in an effort to shake her loose.
Meanwhile, the coyote creatures had continued wave after wave of bites and tears at Kyle’s body. He would spin one off just long enough for the other to sink his teeth into his thigh, spin that one off just as the other returned to bite his waist. They were no coyotes of this world. They moved way too fast.
As the blue pulsed into his arms they again attempted to attack him there, but by blind luck, the unthinkable happened; he fell on to his knees. This was what he’d been trying to avoid all along, being dragged down to their level. Down here they could get at his face and throat. But, instead, it finally got him a bit of distance, for just a split second, and that was all he needed to bring his hands up and release the power within them. The aim of his right hand, being in such bad shape, was poor, but the blast still clipped one of them in the shin, blowing the limb to pieces as the demon teetered for a moment, still trying to advance on three legs, before it fell sideways and began to thrash around.
The aim of Kyle’s left hand had been true, though; it caught the other one dead center in the stomach, its guts blowing out before it fell over dead.
Upon seeing his partner go down, the remaining creature snarled, righted himself and began a wobbly charge.
Kyle tried to retreat on his haunches but it was no use. The creature bit into his foot and started crawling up his leg. Without really thinking, Kyle reached out, grabbed it on each side of its head and, as its fangs snapped, into the empty air, Kyle pulsed the blue from his one hand to the other, straight through the creature’s head, leaving behind the stump of its neck pierced by what was left of its spine, a sharp white bone charred black around the tip.
That was close. Man. Another four feet and it would’ve been at my chin.
Kyle was exhausted, but there was no time to rest. Lying on the ground, he realized that the three creatures attacking The Gray Man were unaware of what had transpired. That or they simply had their hands full with The Gray Man, who’d managed to pull Salamander Lady’s tail off of his face, revealing one eye glaring out for help.
Kyle couldn’t risk taking a shot at her, so instead he leveled both hands at the shorter Nazi. Noticing that his right hand was hanging limply, Kyle tightened it into a fist, the pain again less so now, as if he were going into shock or something. The double bolt that escaped his hands cut one of the men into threes, one bolt carving through him just below the armpits, the other one right through his hips. He fell, akimbo and lifeless, to the sand.
The tall Nazi screamed and turned towards Kyle. His eyes darted side to side as he seemed to debate on what to do next: relinquish his grip on The Gray Man to go after Kyle or hold his ground. It was the only delay The Gray Man apparently needed, because in that split second he reached up with his one free hand and punched a hole into the Nazi’s chest, a white light bursting forth into the creature and imploding him in a starlight flash that sent meat and bone in every direction.
Gasping through a small hole beneath Salamander Lady’s tail, The Gray Man stumbled forwards, but seeing that her comrades had fallen, the salamander doubled down on her grip, eliciting a scream of pain from The Gray Man as she once more engulfed his face in her dry skin.
Kyle rose to his feet and ran towards them, stumbling on a half-buried rock. Regaining his balance, he launched himself at them both and knocked them over. As they all fell to the ground, he scrambled to get a hand in Salamander Lady’s face, determined to blow her head off.
Instead, she released her grip on The Gray Man and lashed her tail at Kyle, striking him upside his head so hard that he almost lost consciousness. The world blurred and spun, then snapped back into focus. She was on the ground between The Gray Man and him, spinning in tight circles as her eyes rotated sideways.
Salamanders weren’t supposed to have large teeth. Kyle was almost sure of that.
But this one did. Oversized, sharp and jagged.
All her movement had kicked up the sand so much that a cloud had enveloped them, making it harder to see.
Kyle could make out motions through the cloud. Her tail came at him again and he ducked, barely in time, hearing its meaty weight swing over him, sensing that that blow most likely would’ve broken his neck had it connected.
Then she was gone, the sound of struggle off in the distance now, where The Gray Man had been, before she was back again, her head darting at him through the sand cloud, her teeth gnashing at Kyle’s face. Instead, she caught his broken hand, which he’d raised to protect himself. He cried out in pain, and almost in reply the air around him crackled and vibrated.
Her eyes widened in terror as, behind her, the dust and sand was blown away by…
Kyle gasped.
The Gray Man stepped forwards in a light gray tunic fastened by a leather belt at the waist, his wings massive and glorious, his eyes glowing white and his chin set firm.
Salamander Lady tried to scramble off Kyle and get away, but The Gray Man had her by the tail and was pulling her, hand over hand, towards him.
She twisted onto her back, claws exposed and slashing, her teeth snapping in defiance.
Kyle could do nothing but watch, dumbstruck with amazement at the sight of his friend as The Gray Man reached forwards, grabbed the creature around its neck, and began to speak in a blend of languages that appeared to cause the creature far more distress than any blow ever could.
It screamed in hellish wails as, slowly, it began it fall apart. Back limbs first, then its right front leg, before its head popped open and its brains oozed down its back, a final hiss escaping its throat.
The sounds of heaven and hell, meeting in this little spot of desert on earth, receded as quickly as they had arrived. Kyle lay still as the blue ebbed away, a pocket of it pooling and throbbing at his wrist, healing him.
After a few moments, the cry of a lone hawk cut through the sky above.
“Gray?” Kyle said. “What’s wrong?”
His friend, who’d been looking at the ground, perhaps in prayer, looked up at him. When he spoke his voice was his own, but deeper and more resonant. Of all things, he looked sad. “I am revealed,” he said.
“What does that mean?”
“It means… Kyle, listen to me. You know how to find Tamara. You must now. On your own.”
Then he simply blinked away, as if a switch was flipped and he had been turned off.
“Who’s Efren?” Trudy said, looking first to Parker and then to Napoleon, her eyes still partially glazed over with shock.
Stunned, Napoleon could barely speak. “What did you just say?”
“I asked, who’s Efren?”
Parker looked hard at her. “Why, Trudy?”
“That man. Ben. Right before I shot him, he was telling me that the kids weren’t safe, that they’d never be safe, and to tell ‘him’ that neither would Efren. But I don’t know who he was talking about or who Efren is.”
Napoleon’s stomach went sour. Now he felt like the one in shock. “He meant me. To tell me. Efren is my nephew.”
“Shit,” Parker muttered. “What else did he say?”
“Just that. But it was the way he said it that was weird.”
“What do you mean?” Napoleon asked firmly.
“It was like, at the end there, when he knew he was going to die, he got really sad, ya know? Like maybe it was all a game until that point, and then it became real. He was like a scared little kid about to go on a roller coaster ride he wasn’t ready for.”
“And?”
“He wasn’t ready. Not at all. He was terrified. It was like…” Trudy faded away into her thoughts as she looked out the window.
“Like what, Trudy!” Parker yelled, snapping her out of it.
She looked at Napoleon. “Like the Efren comment was an attempt to make amends, like maybe he was tipping you off to something.”
Pure fear clutched at Napoleon. “Parker. Give me your phone, man.”
“Yeah. Sure thing,” Parker replied, reaching into his pocket.
Once the phone was in his hand, Napoleon froze again.
“What’s the matter?”
“Parker… I can’t remember the number.”
“For who?”
“Efren’s mom.”
“Call the station, they’ll—” Parker stopped short.
There was no way Napoleon could call the station, and they both knew it. And with sirens approaching from a distance, time was running short. He felt Parker take the phone back from his hand and call in himself. Murillo and Klink weren’t in, but Dane, the Desk Sargent, was. Covering the mouthpiece quickly, Parker whispered to Napoleon, “What’s her name?”
“Anita. Anita Villa. She lives on Boylston. Middle name Ana.”
In short order, Parker relayed the information to Dane and was put on hold as the sirens loomed louder.
“Did you notice?” Parker asked.
Napoleon squinted at him as impatience began to rise like lava from his stomach into his chest. “What?”
“Nothing froze or disappeared this time. Like at McDonald’s or the 7-Eleven.”
“Yeah,” Napoleon answered. “Nothing back at McDonald’s now but a bunch of confused people looking at a shattered window and a bunch of overturned chairs that, last time they noticed, were whole and upright.”
“But here, with Ben?” Parker pressed.
“He wasn’t from there, I guess,” Napoleon surmised.
Trudy’s face wrinkled again with confusion. “From where?”
“Hell,” Napoleon said bluntly.
Parker nodded. Trudy, evidently topped off on stress for the day, seemed to take Napoleon’s words and file them away for a later time.
“Still nothing,” Parker said, still on the phone.
“They’re almost here, man. I gotta go. I’m just going to go to the house. It’s not far.”
“How? If you take the rental they’re gonna wanna know where it went, especially if they want to head back to the station house for statements.”
“The bus will take too long,” Napoleon said, speaking mostly to himself.
“Plus, how will you know if I even reached her if you don’t have your phone?”
Napoleon felt as if he were outside his body, confused beyond rational thought. These were alien feelings, and they were overcoming him when Trudy spoke up out of nowhere.
“Take my phone and take the car,” she said bluntly, handing Napoleon her phone and the keys. Then, looking at Parker, she said, “They don’t even know I have the rental, but if they ask, we parked it miles away and walked here to throw Ben off. We’ll have them drive us all to the station and tell them we’ll worry about the rental later.”
Parker looked at Napoleon and nodded. “Go,” he said.
Napoleon wasted no time. As he exited the room he looked down at the small crowd that had gathered around Ben’s body. The facility manager was keeping most of them at bay, comically using a mop to do so. Someone in the crowd had a small white dog though, which had pulled its leash taught and thus far had gone unnoticed as it licked at a small trickle of blood that had made its way down the pavement. Trying not to be obvious, Napoleon went down the stairs at the opposite end of the balcony and thanked his lucky stars that very few people noticed him as he made his way to the car.
He backed up, pulled out of the driveway and was just making his way down the street when he saw in his rearview mirror three black and whites pull into the motel, sirens blaring.
He drove as calmly as he could, watching as random pieces of trash danced across the street, caught in the tug-of-war of the cars that were passing in opposite directions. He clenched his teeth, thoughts of Efren being in danger bouncing around in his mind like shards of glass. He wanted to peel out, but that would be stupid. As if to prove his instincts right, another black and white was making its way down the boulevard from the opposite direction. There was nothing like a speeding car leaving the scene of a shooting to raise suspicion.
Instead, he calmly drove at the speed limit, down the street and to the freeway on-ramp. Then, once on the freeway, he punched it.
Traffic was moderate but the cars seemed to be spaced out intentionally to frustrate him, with no gaps to exploit. A green Altima blocked him in on the left, a Ford F-150 on his right. To make matters worse, the slow lane had been gobbled up by semis trying to make their delivery deadlines. He banged the steering wheel with his right hand and tried to think. What could Efren possibly have to do with any of this? How did they even know about him?
“Shit!” Napoleon screamed into the empty car, hoping to relieve some of his panic but actually doing just the opposite, only ratcheting it up another notch.
As he made his way to East LA it felt like hours, not minutes, until Trudy’s cell phone finally rang. He reached down and punched the speaker button on it. “Yeah?”
“Your sister is a major fucking pain in the ass.”
“Why?”
“She wasn’t about to tell me anything. Not a thing. I was a strange man calling, saying I was with the police and asking where her kid was. I get that, but man does she have a mouth on her.”
“Tell me something I don’t know. So where is he?”
“He’s at a little league game. Evergreen Park. His team color is—”
“Dodger blue. I know.” Tears were filling Napoleon’s eyes. How could he have forgotten. When he’d seen Efren last, his nephew had told him that he had a special double header, for Cinco de Mayo.
He wanted Napoleon to come and Napoleon had said he’d try to make it.
Now he had to make sure he didn’t make it too late.
“Hey, Nap. I’m down the hall, sneaking this call to you. So I’ll make it quick. I’m sorry.”
“What? Why?”
“I couldn’t get her to shut the fuck up. She wouldn’t listen. I had to tell her…”
“Tell her what?”
“That you’re alive. That you’re the one trying to get to him.”
“What?”
“I lied too. I told her that you’re on your way there with a few units, so she wouldn’t worry.”
Napoleon laughed. “Are you crazy? She’s not going to worry, man.”
“Okay then. That’s good, right?”
“No, Parker. Instead of worrying, you know what she’s gonna do? Call every member of Cuarto Flats in the area and send them there. To a park full of Evergreen gang members.”
“Screw it. As long as someone gets to him first, right?”
“No, Parker. Wrong.”
“Why?”
“We know which side is after Efren. So let me ask you something,” Napoleon said with the heaviest sigh of his life. “How many gangsters you ever met in your life that were right with Jesus?”
The other end of the line went dead quiet.