TWENTY-SIX

IT WAS A PERFECT LOS ANGELES MORNING IN THE PARKING lot by the Brown Star Organic Co-op stall in the Farmers Market. Bright, but not hot, and with a slight breeze. The market was bustling with customers from all over L.A. and the San Fernando Valley. Tourists crowded the stalls, looking for a late breakfast and local delicacies. Some of the more charitably minded stopped by the bake sale table of a new environmental group most of them weren’t quite sure they’d heard of.

Marian White of Enid, Oklahoma, stood by the bake sale table and cocked her head. “‘Scourge the Earth.’ That’s an unusual name for an environmental group. Can you tell me about it?”

Susie smiled at her. “We’re a fairly new group. Local mainly, but we hope to be going global soon.”

“How nice. And what are you working on these days?”

Tommy said, “Our ultimate goal is to poison the seas, scorch the land, and bring the end of days to all vile human life.”

“Excuse me?”

“Save the trees,” said Susie. “We want to save the trees.”

“And the baby seals,” said Janet from over her shoulder.

“Oh, I love them,” said Marian.

“Would you like to try a sample?” said Susie.

Marian looked over the long spread of pies and cakes. “What’s that one?”

“That’s a hate-in-a-blistering-inferno-of-agony bar.”

“That’s an unusual name.”

“Thank you.”

“What flavor is it?” said Marian.

“Lemon.”

“Could I try one of those?”

“Certainly.” Susie cut off a small piece of the bar and handed it to her on a paper napkin. “Here you go.”

Marian popped it in her mouth and chewed. “It’s delicious. I’ll take two, please.”

“Wonderful. Lord Caleximus will smile upon you and devour your soul quickly and mercifully. There will be little pain.”

“Are you sure you’re an environmental group?”

“Save the whales,” said Susie.

“Of course,” said Marian. She narrowed her eyes. “It’s just that I get the feeling you have some other agenda, too.”

“No nukes,” said Janet.

Susie wiped her hands on her apron. “If you think we’re raising money to summon our unholy death god from a black well of eternal suffering to ravage mankind, you couldn’t be more wrong.”

“Well, all right then. What’s that?” said Marian, pointing.

“Carrot cake. With a frosting of cream cheese, chopped pecans, and bottomless horror.”

Marian frowned. “I’m not sure I like the sound of that. Do you have anything with little to no horror? My daughter-in-law is trying to lose some weight.”

Susie picked up a plate. “We have some gluten-free chocolate chip venomous rage Toll House cookies.”

Marian shook a finger at Susie. “See, that’s why I think you might have another agenda.”

“Butterscotch brownies. Do you like butterscotch?”

“I’m not sure. May I try one?”

Susie handed her a sliver of brownie. “I think you’ll like it.”

Marian took a bite and nodded. “How much rage is in this one?”

“Hardly any. And they’re on sale. Three for five dollars.”

“Lovely. I’ll take three.”

Susie used a spatula to scoop up the brownies and slip them into a paper bag. “Here you go.”

“Thank you,” said Marian.

“Have a nice day. Hail Caleximus.”

“What was that?”

“Save the whales.”

“You said that earlier,” said Marian.

“Don’t you like whales? Why do you hate whales?”

“I don’t hate whales.”

“Good, because we love them,” said Susie. “Their blubber will serve to light our lord’s way as he wipes clean all life and hope from the surface of this accursed world.”

“Well, as long as the baby seals will be all right.”

“The seals are fine. Everybody likes seals.”

Marian took her brownies and put them in a Brown Star woven tote bag. “Thank you. Have a nice day. Good luck with the scourging.”

“Thank you. Be sure to tell your friends. We’ll be here all weekend.”

As Marian went back into the Farmers Market, Steve came over. He was wearing a white apron and a chef’s hat with DELICIOUS DESTRUCTION on it in a light green cursive font.

“How are things going, hon?”

“Just terrific. Making money hand over fist. Though, you know, that last woman, I don’t know if she believed we’re one of those tree-hugging groups.”

“Just remember that we have deep concern for the environment. We want to destroy it. Burn it to ashes and salt the Earth with mortal tears. It might not be the kind of environmental plan Greenpeace has, but they’ll be screaming in boiling bile soon, so all we need to do is keep going until we can get back the summoning box.”

“I’m sure you’re right. Anyway, she liked my lemon bars and the butterscotch brownies.”

Steve put an arm around her. “You’re a terrific saleswoman.”

“How are the others doing?” Susie asked.

“Real well. I’m glad you talked me into having one last sale. We’re pulling in cash and everyone is having a good time.”

“And isn’t that what Armageddon is all about?”

“That’s the way I learned it,” said Steve. “Say, have you seen Caleximus’s silver blade? We want to cut up some accursed fudge bars and I thought it might be fun to make a little ceremony out of it.”

“I think Jerry has it,” said Susie.

“Great. Thanks.”

“Talk to you later.”

Steve walked over to where Jerry was putting a couple of virulently blighted blueberry scones into a plastic container for a little girl in a Smurfette T-shirt. The girl ran to her parents and waved at Jerry. He waved back as the family took their infernal pastries to one of the outdoor tables for a snack.

“Hey, son,” said Steve. “Your mom said you might have Caleximus’s dagger.”

Jerry rearranged the scones on his tray, not looking at his father. “No. I haven’t seen it. Maybe Jorge has it.”

Steve sighed. “Well, damn. I sent him for more paper plates. Oh well. We’ll just have to make do with a regular old kitchen knife.” Steve looked over his son’s shoulder at the almost empty scone tray. “Looks like you’re doing a good job there.”

“Thanks.”

“How are your ribs feeling?”

“Just fine. Really good.”

“Great. Okay. I have some fudge bars to get back to. Keep up the good work.”

“Thanks, Dad. I will.”

A plump man in sunglasses and a Mickey Mouse jean jacket walked over to where Susie was working. “Hi. Can you tell me what this is?”

“It’s peach cobbler. My own recipe. Would you like to try a little?”

“Yes, please.”

Susie put a dollop on a napkin for him and gave him a plastic fork. He tasted it and smiled. “That’s terrific.”

“Thank you. The special ingredient is love. And the burning desire to see all of humanity savaged by giant fire-breathing wasps. But mostly love.”

The plump man threw the napkin in a nearby trash can and said, “I’ll take the whole thing.”

Susie beamed at him. “Wonderful,” she said. “Would you like me to wrap that up for you?”

The man picked up the cobbler and said, “No thanks. I’ll have it here.” He raised the dish over his head and smashed it down on the table. It exploded, sending peach cobbler in all directions and knocking other cakes and pies onto the ground.

Behind the man, a van screeched to a stop. The side door slid open and a group of men and women in monster masks piled out.

“Acolytes and adepts to work!” shouted the plump man.

The crowd from the van attacked the tables, smashing pastries, throwing them at the Caleximus congregation and people browsing in the market. They overturned tables and smashed display cases. Jerry tried to grab one of them, but got an elbow in the ribs that sent him to the pavement in agony. Steve managed to get one of the attackers in a headlock, but two more jumped on him and pulled them apart. Another smeared whipped cream in his eyes and he tripped over Leonard, who was already on his back, trying to climb out of a slippery trail of jelly donuts. Janet threw a Bundt cake at one of the masked women. She ducked and hit Janet with a tray of macaroons.

As a couple of security cops ran over, the man in the Mickey Mouse jacket shouted, “Acolytes and adepts! Withdraw!” The cake- and pie-smeared vandals piled back into the van and it burned rubber across the parking lot, scattering shoppers out of the way, and disappeared into traffic.

Steve ran over and helped Susie to her feet. “Are you all right?”

“I’m fine. Where’s Jerry?”

Steve found him still doubled over and sat him upright. “Is everyone else all right?”

The group nodded and mumbled yes miserably, wiping cake, jam, and fruit from their faces and clothes.

“Who was that?” said Tommy.

“It could have only been one bunch: those Cladis Abaddonis bastards,” said Steve.

“Why go after us?” said Tommy.

“And how did they know where we’d be?” said Susie.

“They came after us because they’re heathen assholes, that’s why,” said Steve. “And I bet I know how they found us. It was that Coop guy. He probably saw one of our pendants the other night and sent the Abaddonians after us.”

“Maybe he’s been with them all along,” said Susie.

“Son of a bitch,” said Steve. “I’m going to kick that private eye’s ass until he finds him.”

Leonard pulled Jerry to his feet. “Dad,” he said. “I might be able to help.”