One of the men grabbed his arm and yanked him up. “You want to go to America?”
“No,” Armando’s voice deepened. “I already tried that.” The strength in his menacing tone surprised the men, making them hesitate. With his free arm, he pulled the long heavy knife from the desert out from under the poncho, a motion he’d been practicing for weeks. With one smooth arc, he cut the man’s arm off just above the wrist, then on his reverse swing, he brought the knife back around and sliced through his throat. The blade, razor-sharp from hours on the whetstone, did its job efficiently. The two other men reared back, blood spraying all over them.
Eyes ablaze now with a red glow, Armando seized the element of surprise and lunged for them. In moments, they lay in a bloody heap and Armando slipped through the door. He walked in, surveyed the inside quickly, then proceeded down a hall, which opened up into the large office where the man-sits-behind-the-very-large-desk.
The man sat facing away from Armando, preoccupied with some papers. The boy walked around the back of the desk, dirty bare feet making no sound on the dusty wooden floor. He stood behind the man, watching him rustle papers in his swivel chair.
“I want my bag of coins back,” Armando demanded, red sparks popping from his eyes.
The man spun quickly around, a look of shock on his face. “You.”
Before he could react, Armando drew the knife back and shoved the tip into the soft part of his throat. The man grabbed at the blade. “You did not fulfill your side of the bargain. Now you owe me.”
The man could only gurgle in response.
The boy pushed the knife deeper as the man stared into the violent red eyes of a boy barely four feet tall. Without a word, he worked the knife handle around until it went through the man’s throat. Then he pulled it out in a smooth motion and the man fell forward and onto the floor as Armando stepped back.
He stalked his way silently through the building, blood dripping from his blade. He knew many men would be in various rooms asleep or with women. He went through the entire building, every room, unleashing the remnants of his fears upon the men of the Knife Cartel, the power of his demon driving him. Time became a blur of blood and blade as he ventured out into the night, searching the streets and bars, slaughtering all he could until word got out—there was a demon boy on the loose, hunting the Knife Cartel. The remaining members fled the village that night.
𓂓
Jackie maintained her defiant tone when she asked The Alphabet King, “How is it that we owe you?”
“Shut up,” he growled. “Get up, grab the girl, and get in that SUV.”
Jackie froze.
ABCs walked up and put the gun to her forehead, forcing enraged words through clenched teeth. “Don’t make me say it again.”
Jackie refused to move.
He looked over at Clay who had removed his hands from the wound on his bloodied face. He turned the weapon toward him. “Or how about I take care of your landscaper boyfriend for you.”
Jackie looked to Clay, unsure what to do.
“MOVE!” ABCs snarled at Jackie as he tensed up to pull the trigger.
“Okay, okay, don’t hurt him!” She scrambled over and picked up Elena, who stayed balled up in silent shock.
Clay managed to look over, his face covered in blood. “Jackie. No, don’t...”
ABCs kicked him with his left leg, landing a blow under Clay’s chin that knocked him to the ground at Martha’s feet.
“I should finish you off right now,” ABCs growled, the flints of red in his eyes becoming more pronounced as he jammed the gun in the air at Clay’s fallen form.
Jackie clutched Elena, watching helplessly. There was complete silence except for the labored breathing from the exhausted victims. There was no motion inside Michael’s SUV.
The sound of a distant siren broke the silence. ABCs leaned in over Clay’s prostrate form. “I’ll look forward to seeing you again, gringo.” He spat on Clay as he grabbed Jackie by her ponytail with his free hand, spun, and dragged her toward the SUV. She let out a sharp cry as she stumbled backwards, trying to keep up with him and hold on to Elena.
Clay huffed out a strained breath, blood oozing from his mouth as he saw ABCs release her hair and grab Jackie by the arm.
As she planted her feet to resist, one of the other men came up and grabbed her other arm. Horror and panic came over Jackie as she continued to struggle. “No, don’t!” she yelled in a guttural animal-like voice, eyes wild.
The third guard came up and smacked Jackie in the side of her head, dazing her. ABCs pushed him back. “Don’t damage the merchandise.” A grin spread across his face as he reached his Excursion. His red-tinted eyes burned as he opened the back door. Tugging Jackie forcefully, he looked down at her. “Oh, yes, I have plans for you.”
Jackie’s head hung partially slack, swinging back and forth, her grasp of Elena weakening as the guard in front of her tried to pull the girl from her arms. Feeling her daughter slip from her grasp, Jackie’s adrenaline surged and she came to life, refusing to give up. “No, let her go.”
Jackie let out another guttural scream as she fought to keep hold of Elena, who started screaming too. “Mommy!?! Mommy!?!”
Michael began to stir. He had fallen on his side and still gripped the Glock in his right hand. He lifted his head from the pavement and saw blood on the ground where his face was. He wanted to lift his left hand up to his head and check but couldn’t. His left shoulder throbbed in pain. He rolled onto his stomach and dragged his right arm under to prop himself up and see what was happening. He looked over in horror to see Jackie struggling against three men who were dragging her toward a huge SUV.
Elena began to slip from her grip. Her little girl writhed in the hands of the men. She tried to fight just like her mother. ABCs pulled Jackie’s left arm away and held it back as the other man worked to relinquish the grip on Jackie’s right hand, which held the forearm of Elena.
During the struggle, Clay had managed to get up to all fours unnoticed. Blood dripped profusely from his face and mouth. He gagged as he cleared a mixture of fluids from his throat. He lifted his head to see Jackie struggling with the man who had hit him. Elena screamed. The sound of a siren rang in his ears. He pulled his right leg up under him in a distorted lunge position, then moved his upper body upright through an excruciating mix of pain. He reached up to grab something to help him to his feet, but the smooth door handle of the Suburban offered no grip. He leaned into the door and willed his left leg underneath him. Managing to stand unobserved, only one thought remained, I have to stop this.
Michael looked toward his Suburban and saw Clay swaying as he stood up. Blood dripped from his face, staining his white t-shirt red. Then he saw a look of stern determination come over Clay’s face, and he understood. Clay intended to help Jackie, somehow.
A quick glance into the Suburban revealed no signs of Sean. Smart. Sean was unarmed and couldn’t help. Michael was relieved to see that, rather than become another victim, he stayed out of sight waiting for a chance to help. These thoughts raced through his mind as Michael swung his right hand up and, propped up on his elbow, took aim on ABCs and his SUV.
Martha had wisely been kneeling beside Clay in silence, still tugging at the energy of the pishtaco. During the fight, Evan had been in a complete rage right beside them, unable to do anything. But now that Clay was moving, Martha noticed that Evan had stopped yelling. He was now focused intently on Clay, who managed to stand.
Clay pushed off the side of the SUV and dragged his right foot forward. Anger rising to the surface, his only thought—help Jackie and Elena.
Then, several shots rang out from Michael’s direction, shattering the glass in the back side of the Excursion. It provided the distraction Clay needed. Startled by the noise and flying glass, Jackie’s grip on Elena faltered and the man in camo fell back into the SUV, barely holding on to a squirming, screaming Elena. ABCs, Jackie, and the other man in camo fell back a step in unison, turning their heads to shield themselves from broken glass flying out in all directions.
Suddenly, a flash of bright white light lit everything up. As Clay and Evan merged their metaphysical energies, Clay’s body took off like a sprinter from the line. As he did so, Clay let out a roar that sent spider cracks racing through all the remaining glass of the two SUVs. He reached Jackie and her would-be captors in a handful of strides, smashing rugby-style into the man in camo, who held Jackie’s right arm. There was a dull crunch as he drove the man into the side of the SUV. The man in camo fell to the ground in a lump. Clay stood over him slightly stunned with a savage look on his face, white light faded from his eyes as blood dripped from his face and mouth.
In that instant, Jackie’s training took over and she swung her newly free right arm over in a smooth arc, landing a hard fist in the soft area of ABCs’ throat just below the Adam’s apple. ABCs staggered back, choking. The red flints disappeared into his eyes. “Asshole!” she screamed as she stepped her right foot slightly forward and slid her left foot around, squaring her stance on him. In one fluid motion, she pulled her right arm back and swung a left low and up into ABCs’ ribs. His right hand let go of the gun and it clattered on the ground. He absentmindedly brought his empty hand to his side and took another two steps back, wheezing.
