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Even though he was supposed to be driving towards his salvation, Solomon felt as though he had wanted to drive to his destruction.
He hadn’t wanted to leave the inn and thus, Yasmina. There were so many questions he had wanted to ask her. But he couldn’t. He didn’t want to dare thinking of tomorrow until today was sorted.
He tried to set his mind on the task ahead. He had always thought of Nathaniel as his enemy. The man who came into his world, lording it over with his wealth and a non-existent background that was supposed to make envious. Solomon had wanted him out of the way, certainly. And wasn’t above letting Seth beat him black and blue to do so. But could he actually kill him?
He had never killed a man before, Solomon told himself. Never come close to killing one.
But that wasn’t strictly true. He thought back to when he was first taking tourists out into the sea. He remembered one woman who seemed so delicate and fragile, almost like a bird that was on the verge of being wounded. He would have liked to have made a conquest out of her, but the man accompanying her – her boyfriend, presumably – had made a point of watching her watching everyone else. There was something about the boyfriend that Solomon hadn’t liked. The way he moved and stood perhaps a little too close to his girlfriend. But not like a man about to take his lover in his arms, but like a coiled snake waiting to strike.
Solomon figured that he didn’t want to bring any negative attention to his then-burgeoning business, so he backed off and tried to keep it professional.
But a few days later, he saw the woman walking through the town centre by herself, looking down on the ground. Solomon had gone over to ask her if she was OK. When she looked up at him, Solomon had assumed that the woman had overdone it on mascara, but as he looked closer, he could see the black eye starting to swell.
He hadn’t asked her why it had happened, only where the boyfriend was now. She had directed him to the beach where he was staring out into the sea. No words were exchanged, only a flurry of fists as Solomon lay into the man until by the end, he looked as though a train had hit him.
Solomon had held the man under the seawater, as his opponent thrashed madly for air, clawing at Solomon’s face in an attempt to get him to loosen his grip. Solomon could feel the life leaving him. But he returned to his senses, and pulled the boyfriend out of the water, throwing him onto the beach. No one dared make any eye contact with Solomon.
The man had gone to the local hospital, and despite only being a tourist, news travelled fast, and Solomon found himself waiting for the moment the police would come for him. But they never did.
It was around that time he had started socializing with Seth. And as he got to know Seth, and the kind of grip he held over Formentera, he found himself wondering whether the feared man had pulled some strings to keep Solomon out of trouble, taking it upon himself to act as a guardian angel. He had expected Seth to ask for a favor in return. But Seth made no such requests.
Even though it had never deterred him, Solomon had always known that his philandering would bring about a heavy price. And he wondered if now, by killing Nathaniel, he was about to pay it.
He tried to mentally gear himself up for the task, picture Nathaniel’s body lying bloodied and broken beneath Solomon’s triumphant form. He tried to imagine that all of his problems would die with Nathaniel, and he could renew life with Sarah, the way it was supposed to be. He imagined she wouldn’t be too happy to find out what he had done. But he would help her get over it.
It did briefly occur to Solomon that it might not be too late to deviate from this course of action, call it off and walk away with his humanity intact.
But he looked at Seth, hands clasped tightly around the wheel, a man set on his current course with no interest in deviating. Even if he wanted to, there was no going back now. He had already come too far.
He looked to Hyienna, who was sat in the backseat, looking as though he’d rather be anywhere, but here. But he had a part he needed to play in this. “Hyienna... it’s time for you to work your magic. I need you to get Nathaniel somewhere remote. Somewhere where we won’t have... interference.”
Seth looked over to him. “You’d do well enough to help us, Hyienna. I doubt you’ve ever taken a stupid step before. Don’t start now.” The tone was polite and calm, but there was a slither of ice present.
“Call him,” said Seth. “He trusts you.”
Seeing he had no other choice, Hyienna got out his phone. “Remember” warned Seth. “We’ll be listening to every word. So, we’ll know if you try and give him a heads up.”
Even without the cramped space in the back of the car, Hyienna could feel the walls closing in. He dialled the number on his phone for Nathaniel and held the phone to his ear, praying that Nathaniel wouldn’t pick up.
But to his dismay, there came a “Hello?”
“Hi, Nathaniel” said Hyienna, trying to put on his best ‘calm and relaxed’ tone, as Seth watched him with an eagle eye. “Just wondered how you’re doing?”
“OK, all things considered” said Nathaniel on the other line. “I was wondering if you talked to Sarah... about what we discussed.”
Now Solomon briefly took his eyes off the road to look at Hyienna, now quite aware of the lapse in information Hyienna had been providing him with. “I... haven’t, really” said Hyienna. “I figured that was a conversation that was best left to the two of you.”
“Thank you, Hyienna. I really appreciate your integrity throughout all this.”
Hyienna gulped at the oblivious guilt-slinging Nathaniel was unknowing piling on him. “Not at all, Nathaniel. Not at all.” Seth gave him a pointed look which was clearly a sign that he was losing patience, so Hyienna spoke quickly. “I was wondering if we might be able to have a catch-up to chew the fat, see where we stand with everyone else.”
“Be happy to do so,” said Nathaniel. “I’ve just got to finish up a bit of fishing-”
“Oh, where are you fishing?” asked Hyienna before quickly reminding himself to dial back the eagerness.
“On S’Palmador,” said Nathaniel. “Lovely little patch of land. Thought I’d do some fishing down there. Sometimes it’s nice to get out and enjoy the simple things.”
“Yeah” said Hyienna wistfully. “I might see you later.”
“Let’s hope so” said Nathaniel, who had no idea what he was inviting his way.
Hyienna hung up before his emotions gave away how he was feeling. “For what it’s worth,” said Seth. “I think you’re doing the right thing.”
“Remind me again how killing Nathaniel is going to solve anything” asked Hyienna, hoping, even at the edge of the abyss, that he could pull Solomon away from the edge.
Solomon didn’t quite answer straight away, so Seth answered for him. “Nathaniel is a Nephilem, Hyienna. Imagine a jewel perfectly crafted by the Gods. The type of jewel that would drive others mad with envy. Imagine if that jewel was thrown down to the world of the mortals. Let’s say... a group of peasants, who have never experienced such riches in their lifetime. They all want this jewel, and they will gladly bury each other in blood. An entire land decimated. Now you could easily imagine the peasants being at fault. But if you really think about it, introducing this rich element into their lives changed their very nature. That is what Nathaniel is. He needs to be removed altogether-”
“-returned to the Gods?” finished Hyienna, suddenly feeling brave. “And you’re OK with all of this, are you, Seth? I know for you, Seth, brutality is as natural as breathing, but are you really buying into this supernatural bullshit?”
“We all answer to a higher power,” said Seth. “I do not control which direction the wind blows me in.”
“Funny” retorted Hyienna. “I didn’t think a hammer could be blown.”
Seth’s face darkened at the reminder of his lack of autonomy, but Solomon quickly interjected. “Let’s just focus on the task at hand. I sort this out; you get to go off and live your life, Hyienna. And Sarah and me can recover from this. Everyone’s a winner.”
“Everyone except Nathaniel” said Hyienna.
***
NATHANIEL GATHERED up the fish that he had caught and was hanging them up by the tree.
He loved visiting S’Palmador, it was a tranquil and beautiful place that had yet to be touched by the outside world. He felt that this stretch of the island had looked much like it did centuries ago, and today, felt like a stronghold from the likes of industry.
He had once heard that appearance was reflected by experience. Once you had been exposed to the elements that had altered your way of life, they were immediately set in stone, and you were given the face to accompany that. That was what Nathaniel loved about S’Palmador more than anything, its untainted purity. Based on this expression, Nathaniel had found himself wondering how he might look if life had taken a more optimistic course with him.
He thought about his brother, about the type of man that he would have become had he lived.
He pushed these thoughts to the side, tired from his fixation with the past and daring to dream of a brighter future.
But even that seemed difficult given the current events taking place. He had been naïve enough to think that he could outrun the Moirae and hide from them, disappear from sight altogether. But that was the folly of youth; one always overestimated how safe they actually were.
He imagined that they would always be there in the shadows, waiting for the moment to strike. Nathaniel wondered if they would be the ones to kill him, granting him this borrowed time until they arrived to take it back.
But one thing that Nathaniel knew for certain about the Moirae was that they took every slight, no matter how small, personally. And when they came to collect the bill, they would ensure that their victim knew exactly what they had done to bring them to this point. However, he hypothesised, death would wear a familiar face...
“NATHANIEL!” shouted Solomon who was rushing over the island to get to him.
Nathaniel rolled his eyes at the interruption to his tranquillity as Solomon came rushing forward. He did not have time to deal with this-
And then he saw a glint of metal in Solomon’s right hand, brightened by the sun.
It was a knife.
Nathaniel had barely enough time to knock Solomon’s arm to the side before he was tackled to the ground, the knife lying a short distance away in the sand.
But Solomon was already on top of him, pummelling Nathaniel over and over, bloodying his fists in the process. “Not so pretty now, are you?” shouted Solomon. “Let’s see if you’re going to be picking up anyone with that face!”
Nathaniel didn’t retaliate. At least not straight away. Instead, he gathered up a handful of sand in his outstretched hand and thrust it into Solomon’s face, temporarily blinding him and giving Nathaniel the opening, he needed to shove Solomon away.
“Is this all about, Sarah?” demanded Nathaniel, getting to his feet, spitting out a broken tooth.
“Don’t you fucking mention her” growled Solomon. “Sarah was fine before she met you. In fact, more than fine. She was perfect. And then you ruined her, you Nephelim bastard.”
Nathaniel stopped dead in his tracks, alarmed at hearing the word that he had tried so hard to elude.
“Oh, yeah” said Solomon, soaking up Nathaniel’s surprise. “I know everyone else in Formentera is too chickenshit to mention it, but not me. I know exactly what you are! And soon, everyone else will!”
The idea of the peaceful life he had envisioned with Sarah being snuffed out like a candle was enough to rouse Nathaniel to action and he kicked Solomon in the leg and began returning with blows of his own. He elbowed Solomon sharply in the ribs, recalling a lesson Kal had once given him.
“Always go for the weak spot” he had once said. “There’s no such thing as a clean fight. If one of you is marked for death, you make sure it’s the other guy.”
The irony of relying on the advice of a man who had caused him nothing, but grief to get him through this was not lost on Nathaniel.
Solomon returned the favour with a sharp punch to the throat.
As the two men grappled with one another, ironically, they found focuses for each other’s anger.
In Solomon, Nathaniel saw Kal, the Moirae and everyone else who had permanently marked him as damaged in the world.
In Nathaniel, Solomon saw the assailants who had stolen his and Yasmina’s child and denied him the chance to be a father.
Yet unable to target these forces directly, the two men only found each other as a means of venting their hate.
Nathaniel was quicker on his feet, able to dodge various blows and kicks from Solomon.
But Solomon was the bigger man, and when his blows connected, it knocked the wind out of him.
The two men were evenly matched. It was just a question of whose determination would die out first.
***
MEANWHILE, SETH WAS waiting with Hyienna in the car parked by the side of the road. Hyienna wanted to jump out of the car and warn Nathaniel, but he knew that Seth could be quick on his feet when he wanted to and if he tried anything, it would well be the last thing he ever did.
“How can you do this?” asked Hyienna, still uncomprehending despite all that he had seen. “How can you allow this to happen?”
“For what it’s worth,” said Seth. “Nathaniel’s card was marked long before you came into his life. We just needed to find an appropriate instrument.”
“Too afraid to get your hands dirty?” asked Hyienna, daring himself to be brave.
Seth smiled thinly. “Let me be clear, while we’re on the subject of getting our hands dirty. We all answer to higher powers. There are forces at work that you cannot possibly understand so it would be pointless to try and understand. The Moirae will have their blood oath restored no matter what. At the end of the day, Hyienna, we are all, but links in the chain. You should be grateful that the Moirae isn’t coming after you simply by guilt of association.”
“So, that’s it, then?” asked Hyienna. “Solomon kills Nathaniel and that’s the end of it all?”
“I would imagine so,” said Seth.
“Except it never is, is it?” said Hyienna. “I don’t know enough about the Moirae to be an expert, but I know that they won’t stop destroying lives or finding people to do their dirty work for them.”
Seth shook his head sadly. “I feel for you, Hyienna. You complain about the Moirae, about the work we do on their behalf, but the truth is, you have only scratched the surface. You have no idea the reach that they possess. Tell me; are you familiar with the legend of the Vampire of Barcelona?”
“You’ve got to realize my answer is no” said Hyienna sardonically.
“Around the early 20th century, the people of Barcelona believed that there was a vampire haunting the streets. Now, unlike the vampires you know from Stoker’s fable, these vampires were said to roam during the day, looking for children to abduct before draining their blood to make potions.
“For many years, this vampire eluded the authorities, and their legend rang out for the world to hear.
“But in 1912, the authorities arrested a woman named Enriqueta Marti, a woman who had quite a colourful background, having worked as a nanny, a prostitute and a witch doctor. It was discovered that she also operated a brothel that specialized in providing child prostitutes to wealthy patrons.”
“Jesus” whispered Hyienna, horrified.
“Jesus didn’t have anything to say on the matter,” said Seth. “The Moirae on the other hand...
“The police found the remains of several victims in her home. But despite the overwhelming evidence against her, she never faced trial. It’s funny how despite the limitations she faced in that time because of her gender, she was still able to avoid a sentence that would have certainly seen her executed. Some believed that this was because of her clientele who were terrified of her own name being dragged through the mud. But, fifteen months later, she was beaten to death by her fellow inmates.”
“Is there a point to this historical horror or am I supposed to guess?” asked Hyienna.
“She was supposed to be bringing those children to the Moirae,” said Seth. “She went against the oath that she swore and used those children for her own benefit and profit. And she damn near shone a light on their workings. The Moirae would not let such a slight go unpunished. And justice was eventually served. As certain as is death, the Moirae will eventually collect all debts. It has been their way of existence long before you and I came into the world and will continue to operate as such long after we have returned to the soil. We’re puppets that exist to be pulled on the strings. And the only thing we get to decide is whether we are the lapdogs of the higher power or their cattle.”
***
THE FIGHT BETWEEN NATHANIEL and Solomon continued to rage on, and Solomon was quickly finding the advantage. He headbutted Nathaniel repeatedly, dazing the man, before dragging him by his shirt to the sea and thrust his head underwater.
Solomon had been here once before, when he had almost drowned the abusive boyfriend, and back then, he had wondered whether he had the nerve to kill. Now, time would tell if he had overcome this weakness.
Nathaniel thrashed underwater as Solomon kept his grip on Nathaniel’s throat.
Solomon found himself swept away in the animalistic rage of drowning Nathaniel. Only a few more seconds and all his problems would be over.
But then Solomon caught a glimpse of himself reflected in the water. And to Solomon’s horror, he did not recognize this monster staring back at him. It took him a moment to realize that this monster was him.
In that moment, Solomon knew that there were many things he had been in life. A partner, a diver, a father, a philanderer. Patterns of life that he had fallen into, some of which had been his own making.
But he could not bring himself to become a murderer.
He released his grip on Nathaniel and stood up.
Nathaniel came bursting out of the water and pummelled Solomon repeatedly, punching him over and over until the blood flying from his face meshed with the water.
But when Nathaniel saw that Solomon wasn’t fighting back, he relented, suddenly gasping for breath, as though he had never tasted oxygen before. He was surprised by Solomon’s lack of action, having been moments away from drowning him. Reason told him that he should kill Solomon while he had the chance. But Nathaniel’s mind was working quickly. He was only alive because of this act of mercy. And he saw not a dangerous opponent lying before him, but a man who had been broken by unseen forces.
Possibly the same forces that had broken him.
“You don’t like me. I get it. But I think I have a good idea as to why you’re out here. And I’ll be damned if I’m going to die for another man’s sins” he gasped between breaths.
He stood up tall over Solomon who looked lost and confused, like a child.
Taking this in, Nathaniel said, “Let me guess; someone put you up to this, right?”
Solomon nodded.
“I think I have a pretty good idea who that is. Now, we can either keep going until one of us is dead, or you can tell me what you know and find the bastard who deserves to sleep with the fishes. What do you say?”